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It is easy,
ary return published in 1886 shows and set a self-sacrificing example, that the number of workmen then or think it incumbent upon them employed at these two places on to do anything at all in the matter. March 1, 1886, was 12,390. A
of course, for any certain proportion of these arti- writer with a fair knowledge of sans are employed in highly skilled the subject to declaim against all labour, for which no one supposes the mischief which is being done that Reserve men would ever be to the best interests of the army fitted. The return, however, shows by the present general condition of that there are 4225 men classed as the Army Reserve. The real diffi“labourers” employed, in addition culty, however, is to devise remeto bricklayers, masons, carpenters, dies for these evils which all must painters, writers, timekeepers, as so deeply deplore. well as 2389 men in “other and What, then, it may be asked, subsidiary trades."1 Now many of are the measures which it is adthese trades which I have named visable for the War Office to
abundantly represented in take, as a first step towards amelthe army, and there would be no iorating the condition of the men difficulty in finding plenty of good of the Army Reserve, so as to Reserve men for such employments render that force a help instead as these ; nor would there be any of (as it undoubtedly is at presdifficulty, in the event of these ent) a standing hindrance to the men being called out, in finding recruitment of the army? plenty of others, willing and fit The more obviously necessary for such ordinary employments, to of these measures may be summed take their places.2
up as follows: Of course it will be answered (a) To confine and limit the rôle that the employment of Reserve of the Reserve to its legitimate men,
here suggested, woull purpose—viz., to times of great very possibly be attended with national emergency. inconvenience and risk, both now (8) To form a special section of and hereafter. This is a point about one-tenth or so of the Rewhich no one doubts; but if the serve-i.e., of 4000 or 5000 men War Office is unwilling to disturb —with increased pay, who should its ordinary routine, and to put up be liable to be called out at any with and overcome such inconveni- time when their services may be ences as these, it is quite certain required for any of our small that neither the general public nor wars.3 any one else will take the initiative
(c) To announce officially that
1 At Woolwich arsenal, also, in addition to the skillel mechanics, there
I am informed, over a thousand unskilled workmen constantly employed.
2 When the National Association for the Employment of Reserve and Discharged Soldiers was first formed, the secretary sent l'ound a circular to the various civil Government departments, soliciting their support, and asking them to employ Reservists wherever it was possible to do so. It can scarcely be a matter for surprise that not one of the departments has in any way responded to the circular, inasmuch as they were well aware that, with the exception of a few men employed as clerks and writers, the War Office, which was naturally expected to lead the way, was making no effort to employ the Reservists.
3 The requirements of our small wars, as a rule, do not necessitate the despatch from England of more than 2000—4000 at the most—to the seat of war to reinforce the troops serving abroad which are ordered there. It should be a com
the remainder of the force should growing unpopularity of the serbe absolutely exempt from liability vice. Prominence has, however, to be called out, except in times in the present article, been given of imminent national danger and to this one because of its magnifor periodical trainings.
tude and importance, because it (c) To make every effort to em
lies at the threshold of our difploy as many Reservists as possible ficulties, and is the first problem in the establishments under its which must be dealt with, and for control. (The War Oflice will which a remedy must be found. then be in a position, which it Sooner or later, like it as little as certainly is not at present, to ask they may, the War Office authoriothers, including the civil depart ties, if we are to have any army ments of Government, to clo like- at all, will have to deal with this wise.)
problem, and to find a remedy for (e) To inaugurate a system it; and the longer the question is whereby a portion of every Re- evaded, the more money will have servist's deferred pay should, on to be spent in making good the his passing into the Reserve, be mischief that previous neglect has retained, so that, in the event of caused. Of one thing the country his being employed by the State and the taxpayer may rest quite or by any private employer, this assured – viz., that until this is money should be used to keep a done, the War Minister may inhold over the man, and as a guar
crease the soldier's pay, he may antee of his honesty to a certain build palatial barracks for his amount, without any risk to the accommodation and comfort, he public.
may appoint the ablest commit(f) To appoint some officer at tee on recruiting, he may expend army headquarters, whose special thousands upon thousands of the business it should be to look after public money to attract men into the interests of Reserve men. As the army, but military service will long as it is nobody's business to not become one jot or
one iota trouble himself as to whether Re more popular or respectable in the servists get work or not, the con eyes and estimation of the workdition of the great mass of these ing classes than it is at the presmen will certainly remain as de- ent time. If, however, the War plorable as it is at the present time. Ofice authorities are wise in time,
(9) To subsidise liberally the and are able to deal successfully National Association for the Em- with it, there are other useful reployment of Reserve and Dis- forms and measures which
be charged Soldiers—i.e., to grant it carried out with a fair and reasona liberal sum per head for every able prospect of success. The Reserve man whom the Associa- nature of these reforms and meation is able to provide satisfac- sures, and the manner in which torily for any length of time with they might best be carried out, employment or work.
are topics with which the writer There are many other causes, hopes in a future article to deal. of course, which contribute to the
F. CHENEVIX TRENCH. paratively easy matter for the military authorities to ensure that these 4000 men were kept etlicient (by periodical and regular training) in every respect.
1 This would be a first step towards repairing the mischief which has already been done, and by giving confidence to employers and the public generally, might render it far casier than at present for Reservists to obtain employment in the general labour market.
A NIGIIT IN A IIAYSTACK; OR, A TRIAL FOR TIIE DERBY.
BY JACK THE SIIEPIIERD.
THOSE who reckon time and ly thought that nowhere in the years by the names of Derby win- world could you find links for golf ners, as
"So-and-so happened in worth playing on except hard by Galopin's year," or "I came of age St Andrews, royal and ancient; in Ormonde’s year,” will puzzle and now what do we see? Why, their heads in vain to fix the date not only England but the whole of the memorable trial of which world is studded with “courses the following story gives an ac which even lely-Hutchinson himcount, as for obvious reasons the self would not despise. But it was names of the horses and spectators a hard thing then, and it is a hard are altered. Suffice it that it was thing now, to find a level cricketlonger ago than the writer cares ground on the Berkshire downs. to believe. Those of us who, in But youth overcomes obstacles ; this turmoil of life, in this far too and with the ardour of a bad busy age, still find leisure for re cricketer renowned only at Eton as trospection—so sweet yet so sad an an awful “swiper” in “aquatics indulgence !-may often murmur,
—that dear old club now, I fear, half believing, half convinced, defunct, but once so merry, where " accedente senectâ”.
cricket was a jovial game, not a dry - Is it so long ago,
weary science—I had in the holiThis life of colour and light?
days started a cricketclub composed Will it not show some afterglow of jockeys, farmers, and plough
Ere the day dips into the night? boys, with a stray curate or two, Oh! years, have you dimmed my and had even built a “pavilion ” sight?
on the Ridgeway. And a right Oh ! youth, have you left me quite ? Lo! the light is shade, and the colours good club we had, though Lord's fade,
would scoff at us, and “The Oval” And the day dips into the night.”
might smile at our style : but
didn't we just smash the BrazenYet this Derby trial might have nose first eleven, and send them happened yesterday, so distinctly back in their four-in-hand to Oxcan I recall each actor in it, the ford sadder if wiser men ! and how look of the horses, the very tone of those fat farmers used to block, voice of the men, —so vividly can how the ploughboys used to swipe I scent the sweet fresh smell of at every ball, and how my dear the crisp turf of the downs; and little jockeys used to run ! oh, even now,
naso adunco," I But to the pavilion, for thereby remember well the fustiness of hangs my tale. It was a modest that haystack (it must have been weatherboard erection, but weren't
got” after oceans of rain) where we just proud of it! It overlooked I lay ensconced in an ecstasy of a fair pitch, but a shocking bad mingled fear and expectation along ground, for if you caught a ball well with “Prettyman Bob,” the famous off and sent it to the north, it would tout.
run down the hill for ever; if you And thus it came about.
"cut” well to the south, innumerNot many years ago it was fond- able old cart-wheel tracks on the
green road from Wantage stopped " It's a blarned wet un, it be, your ball untimely, and proved a Bob. I'm blessed if I like the day delusion and a snare.
But, such or my job, and if I'm split on or as it was, what fun we had on it! nailed, it be just the jolly sack and How I wish I was on it now ! a d—d good hiding to boot." how gladly would I welcome the “Never mind, my lad ; here's grave reproof of my father seated five quid if you tell me when the on the steady old col) (I often trial comes off,” said a voice which wondered which of the two took I recognised as Prettyman Bob's. the most interest in the game, for “ The Arl he becoming to old “Compton” seemed to watch Didcot by special from Lunnon on the ball with eyes and ears), “No Thursday night, and the trial wull wonder you were out, John, hit- be on the old gallop, I thinks, ting at a well - pitched ball like finishing near Lanfear's ruck by that; you should play more stead- moonlight ’bout three o'clock in ily, my boy."
the morning. And now shell out "Ah, it is very well to talk of and let me be ofi,—I's just fearsteadiness ; perhaps some day I
I be seen talking with may be steady too,” was the un
you." filial thought, “ when I get stout, A passing of quids,-he rang and ride on a fat cob."
them on a flint, for there's not much Well, this pavilion was my pride, honour in thieves, and Ben Bolt my first building. I loved the knew his man, and feared flash classics, except when I was flogged coin, — then a silence; only a for translating at eleven o'clock match struck, and an occasional school, “ antenna gemunt,” “they spit and puff. groan in spirit”; and wet or dry, I “If the jock is flown," I said to walked to look at my building, and myself, “I think I can lick Prettyspouted, “Diruit, ædificat, mutat man alone: he's not much bigger quadrata rotundis,”-
--a tribute to than Hankey Minor, and I myself, I thought, though, as the thrashed him last half in Sisbuilding was square, not round, it penny. Any way, I'll chance it, seems to me now that the quotation and I'll see the trial for the Derby." was worthy of Mrs Malaprop. But Silently I undid the lock, quietly on an awfully wet day in the early I crept up to Prettyman Bob, part of May I sought my much shouted at the top of my voice, loved pavilion, and there having partly to frighten Bob, partly to enopened and locked the door, I lay courage myself. His pipe dropped down to think of my many virtues, from his mouth as he leapt up with oblivious to wet clothes, ignoring a start and a bound like a frightfuture rheumatism. And as I lay ened deer. in a half dream, the happy dream IIo, there! Now, Bob, I've of youth, building castles in the heard all, but I won't split if you air, I heard voices.
let me see the trial with you.”
1 “Sixpenny" is a part of the Eton playing-fields, in the good old days sacred to cricket and “milling”-i.c., fighting.
is What's the mill in Sixpenny?" was a common question in clay's gone by. Even before my long Eton career of nine years ceased, “ milling” was going out of fashion, and for good or for evil is almost
" Forgotten as the luscious peach
That blessed the schoolboy last September;
Which all men praise, but none remember.'
“T' young squire, by all that's lovely moonlight one it was : sleep holy! You gave me a downright there was none for me. The clock qualm. Oh, you never would go for struck ten, eleven, twelve; how to blab on a friend. I knows you long the hours were ! Then in better, and I'll tell you what, -I stockinged feet I crept down, won't bowl none of those darned trembling as I passed my father's twisters. I'll just let the balls come door, down into the dining-room, in softly to you, and you'll be no shutters shut (we were honest reckoned the best bat on the folk in Berkshire in those days, downs."
bar those rascally touts). I opened “I don't care a hang for your the window, shut it carefully, twisters, Bob; it was a beastly and was out on the lawn. sneak you got me out with last feel the “caller” night-air even match. But come, you shan't bowl now, and the chill to my
feet me out now : I mean to see this of the wet grass, for I put no trial and
boots on till I was clear of the “Well, if ever I seed such a lawn. Then with many an uneasy pertinacious young gent ! and what look at the up-stairs windows, I would your governor say? But if bolted across the meadows, avoided you must, well you must, but you the village, and emerged at the won't blab."
downs end of Cow Lane all too “Bob,” said I, proudly, “you soon, for my eagerness had brought talk to an Eton fellow. If we pride me out at least half an hour before ourselves on one thing, it's being the time. Oh, the weary waiting! gentlemen."
But everything comes in due “Well,” said Bob, "just square
time to him who waits—and at me with a quid, and I'll let you length came to me, not my love, know little
game. You knows
You knows but I'rettyman Bob. that haystack of Farmer Lanfear's “G’d night, Squire,” said he in what is in the corner of the field a husky whisper'; “we'll make as juts out on the downs a-close tracks." "The devil's whelp he be, to the gallop ? there bean't no hay sure enough,” he added to himself in the top of 'im, but just four in a deeper whisper; but I heard hurdles a-supporting of the straw. well in those days, and the air was Shepherd, he be a pal of mine, keen. So in silence we struck and many a good gallop I'se see'd across the downs a bit, then a long from that there ruck, and there crooked way over the ploughs and I'll be, please the pigs, on Thurs the young corn, cold and wet it day night. You mect me at the struck to the feet, up the ladder, bottom of Cow Lane at two o'clock a pushing away of the straw, the in the morning, and I'll show you ladder drawn up, a creeping in the trial. But how ever will thee between the hurdles, our opening get out of the house?”
covered up, and we are in darkness “ You mind your business, Bob, on the top of the haystack. and I'll mind mine. You act And then reflections. - If Bob's square, and I'll give you a sov. lair is known !-he says he's been into the bargain.
here before. If I'm caught, no We parted, and till Thursday more Eton for me.
If there's one night I lived in that strange thing my father hates, it's racing ecstasy natural to youth who have and trainers and jockeys and touts ; adventures in prospect.
and it's beastly cold. Oh! I wish Came the eventful night I was back in bed again.”