bedroom, and taken to the country bank for safe keeping the first thing in the morning.

The dinner guests include Blake, Godfrey Ablewaite, Ablewaite's parents, Mr. Candy, the doctor at Frazinghall, Mr. Murthwaite, the Indian traveler, and others. Ablewaite, who is also a cousin of Rachel's, proposes to her privately, and is rejected. At the dinner Franklin Blake, in a jocular way, gets into a controversy with Dr. Candy, and sneeringly attacks the ability of the average doctor. Finally, after the dinner the guests retire to their rooms, all of them sleeping in the house but Dr. Candy, who leaves for his home in a driving rainstorm. Members of the family are very apprehensive about the diamond. Bloodhounds are let loose on the lawn to frighten off possible robbers. The house is securely closed. In the morning the diamond is gone.

Blake is greatly excited, and goes on horseback to notify the police at Frazinghall. Superintendent Seegraves examines the servants. He is angry because a freshlypainted door adjoining Rachel's room has been smeared, probably by coming in contact with a dress. Rachel is the only one in the house who will not assist the authorities. She refuses to talk. She declines even to see the police. Godfrey Ablewaite leaves the house. He deeply regrets having to leave, but has a Ladies' Charity meeting in London. The great Sergeant Cuff is then called in, and makes a real discovery. It is that the painted door has been dry for eight hours. The smear occurred when it was wet. Query: When was the paint last seen without a smear?

The house is searched for a garment with paint-stain. The wardrobe of every one is examined guests and servants. Rachel flatly refuses to have her wardrobe searched. She refuses to talk to Franklin Blake, openly snubs him, and leaves to visit relatives in London. Rosanna Spearman, a servant, is secretly in love with Blake. She acts queerly, is agitated, and finally commits suicide by jumping in the quicksand on the sea-coast near the house. In the meantime, Sergeant Cuff is dismissed from the case. When pressed for a reason for her

strange conduct, Rachel accuses Franklin Blake of being the thief. "You villain, I saw you take the diamond with my own eyes !"

Blake, dazed by the charge, gets a note left for him by Rosanna Spearman. It directs him to go to the quicksand and pull up a certain package, fastened by an iron chain. He does so, and gets a tin box containing a night-shirt. The garment has a smear of paint on it, and is marked with his own name. Rosanna had buried.it, to prevent it from being used as evidence to convict him of the robbery. Later Ezra Jennings, assistant to Dr. Candy, tells Blake that Candy had secretly put laudanum in Blake's sherry on the night of the birthday to prove that he could make him sleep in spite of himself. He had arisen in a trance. and had gone to the apartment adjoining Rachel's room and taken the diamond. He came into the hallway, and in his sleep handed it to Godfrey Ablewaite. When Blake awoke in the morning, he had no, recollection of what he had done. Ablewaite had then taken the diamond to London and deposited it with Mr. Luker, a broker, to cover a certain loan which he promised to redeem in a year's time. Luker places the diamond in the bank for safe keeping.

An experiment with Blake, watched by Ezra Jennings, Rachel, and others, proves that he did unwittingly take the diamond while in a drugged condition. Luker and Ablewaite take the diamond out of pawn at the end of a year, and later Ablewaite, who is disguised, is strangely murdered by the three Indians, who carry the gem back to India and restore it to its place in the idol's head.

The Construction.

It takes more than 225,000 words to tell this story, making it about twice the size of the average modern novel, and it is diffi cult to see how it could be reduced without spoiling the symmetry of the work. It is told in the first person, in the form of narratives contributed by each of the principal characters. The structure is as follows:Prologue. The Storming of Seringa

patam. How Colonel Herncastle

Gabriel Betteridge, house steward in the service of Lady Verinder, 22 chapters, 196 pages.

2. The Discovery of the Truth. First narrative contributed by Miss Clack, 7 chapters, 77 pages; second narrative by Matthew Bruff, solicitor of Gray's Inn Square, friend of Rachel, 3 chapters, 21 pages; third narrative by Franklin Blake, 8 chapters, 106 pages; fourth narrative, extract from journal of Ezra Jennings, 35 pages; fifth narrative, the story resumed by Franklin Blake; sixth narrative by Sergeant Cuff, 10 pages; seventh narrative, a letter from Mr. Candy; eighth narrative by Gabriel Betteridge, 3 pages. Epilogue. Finding the Diamond. (1) Statement of Sergeant Cuff's man; (2) statement of steamer captain; (3) statement of Mr. Murthwaite. The diamond restored to the idol's head.

The Characters.

Franklin Blake, the hero, who brings the diamond to Rachel. Gabriel Betteridge, the faithful steward, with his love for Robinson Crusoe, who is used to tell the story. Penelope Betteridge, daughter of steward, who is maid to Lady Verinder. Lady Verinder, aunt to Rachel. Rachel Verinder, who thinks she saw Franklin steal the diamond. Rosanna Spearman, a servant, secretly in love with Franklin, and who buries the night-shirt.

Godfrey Ablewaite, cousin to Rachel, a philanthropist and charitable meeting speaker a modified Pecksniff - the real thief.

Mr. Candy, the doctor at Frazinghall, who, to rebuke Franklin's tart talk about doctors, put laudanum in his sherry, which caused him to walk in his sleep and take the diamond from the drawer, and, while in a stupefied condition, hand it to Ablewaite. Mr. Murthwaite, the Indian traveler, to give the occult color to the narrative. The three Indian jugglers who are after the diamond, and will not hesitate at murder.

Seegrave, a bungling superintendent of police, who discovers nothing. Sergeant Cuff, the great detective from London.

Mr. Luker, the London banker, with whom Godfrey deposited the diamond.

Miss Clack, cousin of Rachel, a religious spinster, a character strongly drawn, a sort of foil for Ablewaite.

Ezra Jennings, assistant to Dr. Candy, who gave Franklin the first suggestion that he had been drugged on the night of the birthday party.

Octavius Guy, otherwise known as Gooseberry," office boy and assistant detective to Sergeant Cuff.

The Setting, or Atmosphere.

In two or three striking sentences the author presents the setting or background of the story, and he does it in a manner that is indelibly impressed upon the mind of the reader. This presentation might also be called the atmosphere of the story. Unconsciously it seems to linger, somehow or other, in every part of the narrative, like the odor of flowers or the refrain of a melody. Withal, there is the effect of something mysterious, something strange, the effect, in short, of some impending tragedy. Here it is - a perfect picture :

Our house is high up on the Yorkshire coast, and close by the sea. We have got beautiful walks all around us, in every direction but one. That one I acknowledge to be a horrid walk. It leads for a quarter of a mile through a melancholy plantation of firs, and brings you out between low cliffs on the loneliest and ugliest little bay on all the

coast.

"The sand hills here run down to the sea, and end in two spits of rock jutting out opposite each other, till you lose sight of them in the water. One is called the North Spit, and the other the South. Between the two, shifting backward and forward at certain seasons of the year, lies the most horrible quicksand on the shores of Yorkshire. At the turn of the tide something goes on in the unknown deeps below which sets the whole face of the quicksand quivering and trembling in a manner most remarkable to see, and which has given to it, among the people in our parts, the name of the Shivering Sand. A great bank, half a mile out, nigh the mouth of the bay, breaks the force of the main ocean coming in from the offing.

66

A lonesome and horrid retreat, I can tell you. No boat ever ventures into this bay. No children from our fishing village, called Cobb's Hole, ever come here to play. The very birds of

the air, as it seems to me, give the Shivering Sands a wide berth."

Specimens of Character Drawing.

The author's methods of character drawing are worthy of the most careful study. By reiteration and emphasis, he not only differentiates the children of his brain, but impresses them deeply upon the mind of the reader. They have significant traits. For instance, Gabriel Betteridge, the faithful old steward, constantly consults the pages of "Robinson Crusoe" in order to solve the problems of life; Sergeant Cuff is an enthusiast on the growing of roses; Godfrey Ablewaite is unctuous - he smiles and smiles and is a villain still; Miss Clack talks constantly of her tracts and her religious work. But here are the quick, effective strokes of the author :

Franklin Blake, the Hero of the Story.

'While he was speaking, I was looking at him and trying to see something of the boy I remembered in the man before me. The man put me out. Look as I might, I could see no more of the boy's rosy cheeks than his boy's trim little jacket. His complexion had got pale; his face at the lower part was covered, to my great surprise and disappointment, with a curly brown beard and mustache. He had a lively touchand-go way with him, very pleasant and engaging, I admit, but nothing to compare with his free-and-easy manners of other times. To make matters worse, he had promised to be tall, and had not kept his promise. He was neat and slim, and well made; but he was n't by an inch or two up to the middle height. In short, he baffled me altogether.

"The years that had passed had left nothing of his old self except the bright, straightforward look in his eyes. There I found our nice boy again, and there I concluded to stop in my investigation."

Rosanna Spearman, the Second House Maid.

"There was certainly no beauty about her to make the others envious; she was the plainest woman in the house, with the additional misfortune of having one shoulder bigger than the other. What the servants resented, I think, was her silent tongue and her solitary ways. She read or worked in leisure hours when the rest gossiped. . . . She never quarreled, and she never gave

offence; she only kept a certain distance, obstinately and civilly, between the rest of them and herself. Add to this that, plain as she was, there was a dash of something that was n't like a house maid and that was like a lady about her."

Rachel Verinder, the Heroine.

"If you happen to like dark women (who, I am informed, have gone out of fashion latterly in the gay world), and if you have no particular prejudice in favor of size, I answer for Miss Rachel as one of the prettiest girls your eyes ever looked on. She was small and slim, but all in fine proportion from top to toe. To see her sit down, to see her get up, and especially to see her walk, was enough to satisfy any man in his senses that the graces of her figure (if you will pardon me the expression) were in her flesh, and not in her clothes. Her hair was the blackest I ever saw. Her eyes matched her hair. Her nose was not large enough, I admit. Her mouth and chin were (to quote Mr. Franklin) morsels for the gods, and her complexion (on the same undeniable authority) was as warm as the sun itself, with this great advantage over the sun, that it was always in nice order to look at. Add to the foregoing that she carried her head as upright as a dart, in a dashing, spirited, thoroughbred waythat she had a clear voice with a ring of the right metal in it, and a smile that began very prettily in her eyes before it got to her lips and there behold the portrait of her, to the best of my painting, as large as life."

Godfrey Ablewaite, the Villain.

"In the first place, Mr. Godfrey was, in point of size, the finest man by far of the two [as compared with Franklin Blake ]. He stood over six feet high; he had a beautiful red and white color; a smooth, round face, shaved as bare as your hand; and a head of lovely, long, flaxen hair falling negligently over the poll of his neck. He was a barrister

by profession, a ladies' man by temperament, and a Good Samaritan by choice. Female benevolence and female destitution could do nothing without him. Maternal societies for confining poor women: strong-minded societies for putting poor women into poor men's places, and leaving the men to shift for themselves - he was vice-president, manager, referee to them all. . . . And with all this, the sweetest-tempered person (I allude to Mr. Godfrey) — the

simplest, and pleasantest, and easiest to please you ever met with. He loved everybody. And everybody loved him. What chance had Mr. Franklin what chance had anybody of average reputation and capacities against such a man as this?"

Sergeant Cuff, the Great Detective.

"A grizzled, elderly man, so miserably lean that he looked as if he had not got an ounce of flesh on his bones in any part of him. He was dressed all in decent black, with a white cravat 'round his neck. His face was as sharp as a hatchet, and the skin of it was as yellow, and dry, and withered as an autumn leaf. His eyes, of a steely, light gray, had a very disconcerting trick, when they encountered your eyes, of looking as if they expected something more from you than you were aware of yourself. His walk was soft; his voice was melancholy; his long, lanky fingers were hooked like claws. He might have been a parson, or an undertaker, or anything

else you like, except what he really was."

It should be said in conclusion that these characters and the incidents indicated are woven together with an almost matchless skill. The bare bones of this outline give little suggestion of the fascinating mystery story which has been produced by the gifted writer. Some one has said that every great man was once an unpromising boy; by the same token every great novel was once a puny little germ of thought. The man or woman who can cultivate this germ until it develops into a book that is worth reading will experience infinite satisfaction, if not fame and fortune. And if this imperfect at'tempt at an analysis of one of the classics of fiction should aid in leading to such a result, the literary diagnostician will feel amply repaid for his labor. George Barton. PHILADELPHIA, Penn.

Don't use the word "banquet," unless you are referring to a feast of much more than ordinary elegance. Even a public dinner is not a banquet, as a rule.

Remember that when you speak of man's "vocation" you mean his main life-work his "calling," in other words. His avocations" are his less important interests. Do not say: "He is some better," but rather: "He is somewhat better, or a little better, or slightly better." "Some" is not an adverb.

"Different to" is very English. The American usage is to say: "Different from." Our usage, that is to say, is different from the English usage. Remember that in case of a difference of opinion you would say: "I differ with you." If you are speaking of a difference in appearance or in character, you would say: "He differs from her."

The use of the word "penny" to mean an American cent is absolutely wrong. There

the air, as it seems to me, give the Shivering Sands a wide berth."

Specimens of Character Drawing.

The author's methods of character drawing are worthy of the most careful study. By reiteration and emphasis, he not only differentiates the children of his brain, but impresses them deeply upon the mind of the reader. They have significant traits. For instance, Gabriel Betteridge, the faithful old steward, constantly consults the pages of "Robinson Crusoe" in order to solve the problems of life; Sergeant Cuff is an enthusiast on the growing of roses; Godfrey Ablewaite is unctuous he smiles and smiles and is a villain still; Miss Clack talks constantly of her tracts and her religious work. But here are the quick, effective strokes of the author: -

Franklin Blake, the Hero of the Story.

While he was speaking, I was looking at him and trying to see something of the boy I remembered in the man before me. The man put me out. Look

as I might, I could see no more of the boy's rosy cheeks than his boy's trim little jacket. His complexion had got pale; his face at the lower part was covered, to my great surprise and disappointment, with a curly brown beard and mustache. He had a lively touchand-go way with him, very pleasant and engaging, I admit, but nothing to compare with his free-and-easy manners of other times. To make matters worse, he had promised to be tall, and had not kept his promise. He was neat and slim, and well made; but he was n't by an inch or two up to the middle height. In short, he baffled me altogether.

"The years that had passed had left nothing of his old self except the bright, straightforward look in his eyes. There I found our nice boy again, and there I concluded to stop in my investigation."

Rosanna Spearman, the Second House Maid.

"There was certainly no beauty about her to make the others envious; she was the plainest woman in the house, with the additional misfortune of having one shoulder bigger than the other. What the servants resented, I think, was her silent tongue and her solitary ways. She read or worked in leisure hours when the rest gossiped. . . . She never quarreled, and she never gave

offence; she only kept a certain distance, obstinately and civilly, between the rest of them and herself. Add to this that, plain as she was, there was a dash of something that was n't like a house maid and that was like a lady about her."

Rachel Verinder, the Heroine.

'If you happen to like dark women (who, I am informed, have gone out of fashion latterly in the gay world), and if you have no particular prejudice in favor of size, I answer for Miss Rachel as one of the prettiest girls your eyes ever looked on. She was small and slim, but all in fine proportion from top to toe. To see her sit down, to see her get up, and especially to see her walk, was enough to satisfy any man in his senses that the graces of her figure (if you will pardon me the expression) were in her flesh, and not in her clothes. Her hair was the blackest I ever saw. Her eyes matched her hair. Her nose was not large enough, I admit. Her mouth and chin were (to quote Mr. Franklin) morsels for the gods, and her complexion (on the same undeniable authority) was as warm as the sun itself, with this great advantage over the sun, that it was always in nice order to look at. Add to the foregoing that she carried her head as upright as a dart, in a dashing, spirited, thoroughbred waythat she had a clear voice with a ring of the right metal in it, and a smile that began very prettily in her eyes before it got to her lips and there behold the portrait of her, to the best of my painting, as large as life."

Godfrey Ablewaite, the Villain.

"In the first place, Mr. Godfrey was, in point of size, the finest man by far of the two as compared with Franklin Blake ]. He stood over six feet high; he had a beautiful red and white color: a smooth, round face, shaved as bare as your hand; and a head of lovely, long, flaxen hair falling negligently over the poll of his neck. . . He was a barrister by profession, a ladies' man by temperament, and a Good Samaritan by choice. Female benevolence and female destitution could do nothing without him. Maternal societies for confining poor women: strong-minded societies for putting poor women into poor men's places, and leaving the men to shift for themselves he was vice-president, manager, referee to them all. . . . And with all this, the sweetest-tempered person (I allude to Mr. Godfrey) — the