Robert Johnson was an essentially commonplace man, with no feature to distinguish him from a million others. He was pale of face, ordinary in looks, neutral in opinions, thirty years of age, and a married man. By trade he was a gentleman’s outfitter in the New North Road, and the competition of business squeezed out […]

“Is Dr. Horace Wilkinson at home?” “I am he. Pray step in.” The visitor looked somewhat astonished at having the door opened to him by the master of the house. “I wanted to have a few words.” The doctor, a pale, nervous young man, dressed in an ultra-professional, long black frock-coat, with a high, white […]

Scudamore Lane, sloping down riverwards from just behind the Monument, lies at night in the shadow of two black and monstrous walls which loom high above the glimmer of the scattered gas lamps. The footpaths are narrow, and the causeway is paved with rounded cobblestones, so that the endless drays roar along it like breaking […]

It was a dull October morning, and heavy, rolling fog-wreaths lay low over the wet grey roofs of the Woolwich houses. Down in the long, brick-lined streets all was sodden and greasy and cheerless. From the high dark buildings of the arsenal came the whirr of many wheels, the thudding of weights, and the buzz […]

My first interview with Dr. James Winter was under dramatic circumstances. It occurred at two in the morning in the bedroom of an old country house. I kicked him twice on the white waistcoat and knocked off his gold spectacles, while he with the aid of a female accomplice stifled my angry cries in a […]

It was the first day of the winter session, and the third year’s man was walking with the first year’s man. Twelve o’clock was just booming out from the Tron Church. “Let me see,” said the third year’s man. “You have never seen an operation?” “Never.” “Then this way, please. This is Rutherford’s historic bar. […]

A sword! A sword! Ah, give me a sword! For the world is all to win. Though the way be hard and the door be barred, The strong man enters in. If Chance or Fate still hold the gate, Give me the iron key, And turret high, my plume shall fly, Or you may weep […]

(Coronation Year, 1911) God save England, blessed by Fate, So old, yet ever young: The acorn isle from which the great Imperial oak has sprung! And God guard Scotland’s kindly soil, The land of stream and glen, The granite mother that has bred A breed of granite men! God save Wales, from Snowdon’s vales To […]

Captain Temple, D.S.O., With his banjo and retriever. “Rough, I know, on poor old Flo, But, by Jove! I couldn’t leave her.” Niger ribbon on his breast, In his blood the Niger fever, Captain Temple, D.S.O., With his banjo and retriever. Cox of the Politicals, With his cigarette and glasses, Skilled in Pushtoo gutturals, Odd-job […]

Peter Wilson, A.R.A., In his small atelier, Studied Continental Schools, Drew by Academic rules. So he made his bid for fame, But no golden answer came, For the fashion of his day Chanced to set the other way, And decadent forms of Art Drew the patrons of the mart. Now this poor reward of merit […]

I gave the ‘orse ‘is evenin’ feed, And bedded of ‘im down, And went to ‘ear the sing-song In the bar-room of the Crown, And one young feller spoke a piece As told a kind of tale, About an Arab man wot ‘ad A certain ‘orse for sale. I ‘ave no grudge against the man […]

Three women stood by the river’s flood In the gas-lamp’s murky light, A devil watched them on the left, And an angel on the right. The clouds of lead flowed overhead; The leaden stream below; They marvelled much, that outcast three, Why Fate should use them so. Said one: “I have a mother dear, Who […]

Squire wants the bay horse, For it is the best. Squire holds the mortgage; Where’s the interest? Haven’t got the interest, Can’t raise a sou; Shan’t sell the bay horse, Whatever he may do. Did you see the bay horse? Such a one to go! He took a bit of ridin’, When I showed him […]

(Being a Sequel to “The Groom’s Story” in “Songs of Action”) Not tired of ‘earin’ stories! You’re a nailer, so you are! I thought I should ‘ave choked you off with that ‘ere motor-car. Well, mister, ‘ere’s another; and, mind you, it’s a fact, Though you’ll think perhaps I copped it out o’ some blue […]

With acknowledgment to my friend Sir A. Quiller-Couch. ‘Twas in the shadowy gloaming Of a cold and wet March day, That a wanderer came roaming From countries far away. Scant raiment had he round him, Nor purse, nor worldly gear, Hungry and faint we found him, And bade him welcome here. His weary frame bent […]

They recruited William Evans From the ploughtail and the spade; Ten years’ service in the Devons Left him smart as they are made. Thirty or a trifle older, Rather over six foot high, Trim of waist and broad of shoulder, Yellow-haired and blue of eye; Short of speech and very solid, Fixed in purpose as […]

Faith may break on reason, Faith may prove a treason To that highest gift That is granted by Thy grace; But Hope! Ah, let us cherish Some spark that may not perish, Some tiny spark to cheer us, As we wander through the waste! A little lamp beside us, A little lamp to guide us, […]

There’s a banner in our van, And we follow as we can, For at times we scarce can see it, And at times it flutters high. But however it be flown, Still we know it as our own, And we follow, ever follow, Where we see the banner fly. In the struggle and the strife, […]

[Bendigo, the well-known Nottingham prize fighter, became converted to religion, and preached at revival meetings throughout the country.] You didn’t know of Bendigo! Well, that knocks me out! Who’s your board school teacher? What’s he been about? Chock-a-block with fairy-tales full of useless cram, And never heard o’ Bendigo, the pride of Nottingham! Bendy’s short […]

Great was his soul and high his aim, He viewed the world, and he could trace A lofty plan to leave his name Immortal ‘mid the human race. But as he planned, and as he worked, The fungus spore within him lurked. Though dark the present and the past, The future seemed a sunlit thing. […]