Personalities

Alexandra Herald and Central Otago Gazette, Issue 422, 19 May 1904, Page 2

Personalities

MARIE CORELLI AND THE PHOTOGRAPHERS.

2*fC* FRIEND tells that the chief IjMfa amusement of the natives of 2K3k Stratford-on-Avon is watching the American pilgrim in bis or her efforts to snapshat Miss Marie Corelli. Mibs Corelli, since she took up residence at Stratford, has been often seen about, but she invariably carries an umbrella or a parasol, whioh 'goes up' the instant the authoress spies a camera fiend making towards her. She would seem to have about as much sympathy for the amateur as she is s»id to have for the professional photographer.

A YORKSHIRE SQUIRE'S PRECAUriON,

Lord Herries, who has boon having a big party for a 'cricket week* at Everingham Paik, his fine seat in the East Riding, tells this interesting story, a century old, about His grandfather, Mr. Mamaduke Constable-Max well, whose son, the late peer, was restored to his ancient honours in 1858. A hundred years ago the scare of an invasion by Napoleon was strong in the land, and the Squire of Everingham, bethinking himself that hard times might ba in store for him and his family, conceived the prudent idea of burying five hundred guineas, for future emergencies, in a corner of Mis great deer-park At the same time he made a memorandum of the exact spot where the board was hidden. Some years after his death the memorandum fell into the hands of his sons, along with a note in his handwriting to the effect that on a certain later day he. had 'taken up' 250 of the buried coins. Evidently, then, the remainisg half was still underground, and the youag men promptly proceeded to dig with maeh vigour in an indicated spot, but their toil, was unrewarded, and nothing turned up. It was not until some time afterwards that another memorandum was found, dated several years subsequent to the first, and briefly stating that the old gentleman had * taken up the other 250!'

BUSINESS.

Lady Cmzoa, the STankee wife of the Viceroy of India, makes a point of colleeting any amusing attempts made by Hindooß to write English that come under her notice, and has many ludicrous specimens in her scrap-book. Becently she got from Bombay a letter that two brothers sent out to their patrons on the death of their father who had been the head of the firm. Tbe letter ran:— .

* Gentlemen:—We have the pleasure to inform you that our respected father departed this life on the 10 ih inst. His business will be conducted by his beloved s< ns whose names are given below. The opium market is quiet and Mai. 1.500 rupees per chest. 0 death, where is thy sting P O grave, where is thy victory P We remain, etc'

ECONOMICAL GENEROSITY. * The following letter, written by the great apostle of prudence and economy, Benjamin Franklin shows how it ia possible to be generous and yet economical. The letter was addressed to a gentleman at Paris:— >' I send you herewith a bill for ten louis d'ors. Ido not pretend to give such a sum; I only lend it to you. When you return to jour country you cannot fail of getting into some business that will in time enable you to pay all your debts, In that case, when you meet with another honest man in similar distress you must pay me by lending this sum to him, enjoining him to discharge the debt by a like operation, when he shall be able, and shell meet with such another opportunity, I hope it may thus go through many hands before it meets with a knave to stop its progress. This is a trick of mine for doing a deal of good with a little money, lam not rich enough to afford much in good works, and so am obliged to be cunning, and make the most of a little.'

THE DALZIELS, Historians of art work daring the nineteenth century will poiHt to the three brothers Dalziel a3 having done much to raise the art cf wood engraving to a ?ery high level. George Dalziei died quite recently; he was the eldest of the tbree, and the first to start the business, his father having been an artist. He came to London when he was twenty, and was soon joined by his second brother. Their business lasted for fifty years, and they engraved the pictures of the leading artists of the time, Millais, Burne-Jones, Bossetti, Holman Hunt, etc.

tained a plan of its interior, Bat as it is I intended, in thiß article, to put every conceivable obataole in bis way, let us say that he has not, He has, however, cuefully noted the number and sixes of the windows, and the various dimensions of the house. By diligent watching of the lights behind the glass, and the smoke of the chimneys, he has found out which are the bedrooms, which is the drawing-room, the dining-room, and so on, He has learnt the time at which the family usually retires. He knows whether there is a dog or not, what is its breed, and whether it sleeps indoors or out. He lies concealed, waiting for the constable to pass. The constable passes, flashes his bull's-eye over the garden wall, and tramps oa. Our bnrglar knows, having ascertained all about it, that he has just forty undisturbed minutes in which to do his work.

He has been lying in a field at the back of the house. He sits up, lights his dark lantern, And shuta the slide. Then he rises and investigates the hedge. Barbed wire. Then he snips with pliers; and, still using the pliers, rolls each loose end round and ronnd two lengths of stout twig which he has prepared for this purpose. When he has wound about a foot of either end of the severed wire and stuck the pegs into the ground, there is ample space for him to wriggle through into the garden. There may ba stretched wires or some other man-trap to circumvent yet, however. Bat the owner of this is by way of being a bit of a gardener too. He is not likely to expetiment with such unkind contrivances amosg his pet flowerbeds. So oar screwsman crawls through them, Still he goes warily, feeling ahead with his hands. He leaves the wilder part of the garden presently, and comes to the edge of the lawn. He crosses th : B very slowly, never raising his feet, but progressing by a series of she flies, so that his toes may strifce against the slightest obstacle. Thus he escapes a maz,s of croquet-hoops that the 'casual buster' would inevitably have come a cropper over. Bat there is still the dog. A less experienced hand would throw him a bone or a piece of poisoned meat, Oar burglar throws him a small sponge, prepared in a particular and peculiar way. Whilst the dog, in a state of great excitement is engaged with the sponge, our burglar slip 3 safely past him.

Ha is now in the shadow of the house. The kitchen window is his chosen means of entry. It is at the side of the house, shuttered within and barred without. First, he attacks the bars. He takes out bis' spreader,' an implement resembling a huge pair of pliers with grips instead of blunt ends. This he fixes to two of the bars; and, putting out all his strength, he forces them apart until a space is left ffide enough for his slender body to equeeae through. He now inserts a stiff, strong, thin-bladed knife between the two middle sashes, and pushes back the hasp of the window—& simple matter. Cautiously, he tries to open the window ; but it remains immovable. A lump of putty is called into requisition. He fashions it into the rough likeness of a mushroom. The speading part he affixes firmly to the upper pane. With a glazier's diamond he draws a circle round the putty. He gives the putty a sharp tug and out comes a disc of glass. He thrusts his hand through the hole, and explores the mystery of the window. In an instant he knows why it would not open. A hole bas been bored through both sashes, and they are held together by a French nail—a very artful dodge. Oar burglar wrenches out the nail by means of pliers, using the middle junction of the sashes as a fulcrum.

He raises the lower window, and inserts the knife in the chink between the shutters. He gets the knife under the bar and heaves. It does not yield. Steel clip-catch. Still using the handy knife, he scrapes away the paint at a certain Spot and discovers the point of the screw that secures the bar. He takes out a little tube, with sharp, serrated -.edges, fits it on to the screw-point, and begins to drill. Presently he pauses, measures the thickness of the wood with his knife. It is very thick and hard. He changes his plan. He substitutes for the hollow drill a gimlet, very fine and keen. With this he speedily perforates the wood. Into the orifice thus made he slips a threadlike fretsaw. He saws away at the wood until he can substitute a stronger fretsaw, and then a stronger still. Soon he has made a hole strong enough to admit his arm. He then thrusts in his arm, releases the bar from the steel clip, ties a piece of string to it, and lowers it gently. He now squeezes in through tbe outside upright bars, pushes back tbe shutters, and drops sof riy on to the kitchen floor. He closes the shutters and opens his lanterh-slide. The kitchen d )or is lock d from the outside, The key has been left in the lock, for prudent householders imagine that this increases a burglar's difficulties, whereas, in reality, it lessens them. Oar burglar inserts ai very fine pair of pliers into the keyhole,: grips the key, and turns it. As tbe bolt is on his side, the door is now open. He wastes no time, but makes for the Btudy. The door is locked; the key has been taken away. Oar burglar, for the first time, uses his 'twirls' or skeleton-keys. A skeleton-key is a long piece of flattened steel, terminating in a simple bend at right angles with the shank. The 'twirl' that finally does the trick is not mote than one-eighth of an inch in thickness.. Our burglar is now in the study; and, as he divined, there is a safe in the corner. It is a eafe of the time-lock variety: the most difficult of all safes to tackle. But he is not daunted. A mistake now means that the safe can only be opened by the makers themselves, for obviously our burglar dare not use dynamite. He grips the glittering braes handle in his left hand. His right holds his 'twirls.' He lays his ear against the cold iron. He tries many of the skeleton keys before he has the right one. At last, listening intently, he hears the faint 'click' which tell him that one of the 'tumblers' has dropped into position. Firmly, but slowly and steadily, he begins to turn the big brass handle. One by one our burglar hears the 'tumblers' fall He is so exquisitely expert a mechanician that he knows just where they should fall as the handle turns, At last he is satisfied. He lets go the handle tenderly. Breathlesßly he iEsarts an experimental * twirl.' No good. He tries another, and yet another, until he finds the right one. At last he may pull the handle, and the safe is open. Its contents are sot to the purpose of this article.—Edwin Pagb.