The above picture records a brave attempted rescue on the part of Private Frederick Lakeman Banks, of the London Rifle Brigade. When on the way to the Rainham Rifle Range some time ago, Banks and several of his companions were attracted to this spot by the cries of some bystanders, who stated that a child had fallen into the thick muddy water of the tidal creek and had disappeared. Banks immediately threw off his coat, plunged into the filthy water, and after a three minutes' search succeeded in finding the boy. Unhappily, the child was past help; but, all the same, the gallantry displayed by the rescuer was rewarded by the bestowal of the Bronze Medal of THE QUIVER Heroes' Fund.] [Illustration: MISS LUCRETIA'S NEW IDEA. H V Brock] _A COMPLETE STORY._ By M. H. Cornwall Legh, Author of "The Steep Ascent," Etc. I. "So poor Annie is dead!" Miss Lucretia repeated as she laid down the black-edged letter which she had just read through for the third time and wiped her eyes with a handkerchief already damp and flabby. "Poor Annie! So soon after poor Edward's death too! And now I wonder what will become of poor little Amy?" She repeated the adjective which seemed most appropriate as often as she liked, for she was only speaking to herself. Miss Lucretia lived alone in a very small house, which was one of a row, all just alike, with a bow-window apiece for their glory, and a little bit of garden and a fence and a gate. They were called Primrose Cottages, despite the fact that there were no primroses about them. Thirlambury was a very dull, behind-the-age little town, and people thought Miss Lucretia a very dull, behind-the-age little lady. She thought so herself; for she had always taken life meekly. Lucretia was the only one of the three sisters--of whose happy girlhood together the old maid was thinking as she wiped away her tears--who had been at all meek. Constantia and Ann had both been strong-charactered, masterful girls, in accordance with the traditions of their family. With Constantia this decided turn had met with the happiest development. It had enabled her to manage to perfection a husband and family, and it was with pardonable pride that she now looked at her six successful sons and daughters, all brought up just as they should have been, physically, intellectually, and morally; of whom the last had just left the nursery for the school-room. With Ann the family characteristics had gone in the wrong direction. Her strong will had led her to marry a very unsatisfactory little man, whom his family finally exported to New Zealand, with her and their four children, rejoicing over the happy riddance. Out there Constantia did not like to say, providentially, though that was the adverb which suggested itself--the four children took diphtheria, and every one of them died.