The Strand Magazine, Vol. 05, Issue 27, March 1893: An Illustrated Monthly — John Shaqi
The Strand Magazine, Vol. 05, Issue 27, March 1893: An Illustrated MonthlyVarious
General
The Strand Magazine, Vol. 05, Issue 27, March 1893: An Illustrated Monthly
Various
English literature -- Periodicals; Short stories, English -- Periodicals
It hung in Miss Grimston's boudoir--an apartment the walls of which were
decorated with pictures of the Comédie-Française Company, the original
designs for the dresses in "A Wife's Secret"; while over the
mantel-board are Mr. and Mrs. Kendal in "The Ironmaster," and many
family portraits are about.
[Illustration: MISS GRIMSTON'S BOUDOIR.
_From a Photo by Elliott & Fry._]
"It is so amusing to hear people talk and write about my eldest brother
Tom and me playing together as children," she said. "My mother was
married when she was eighteen, and my brother was born when she was
nineteen; I was born when she was forty-eight, and was her twenty-second
child! So my brother was a grown man with a moustache when I knew him. I
was brought up with his two children--little Tom and Maude, my own
nephew and niece."
What a delightful story it was! Little Madge Robertson used to dress up
as a policeman and take Maude into custody before Tom, the younger, as
the judge. And this was the trial:--
"What is the prisoner charged with, constable?" asked the judge.
"Murder, my lord," replied the representative of law and order.
"Prisoner, are you guilty?"
"Yes, my lord," answered the poor prisoner.
"Prisoner, have you anything to say why sentence should not be passed
upon you according to law?"
"Yes, my lord. _I'm the daughter of the author of 'Caste'._"
The prisoner always got off, and dear old William Robertson would watch
this little scene and roar with laughter.
"Yes," Mrs. Kendal said quietly, as we again looked at "Tom's" picture,
"my brother was kindness itself, even from his infancy. I remember
hearing how, when he was a very small boy and living with his aunt, he
went out one summer's day with a new velvet jacket on. He caught sight
of a poor little beggar child his own size, who was in tatters, and,
beckoning him across, at once divested himself of his new coat, put it
on the wondering youngster, and ran away home as fast as he could. His
aunt questioned him, and upon finding out the true circumstances of the
case, and not wishing to damp the kind spirit in the little fellow's
heart, said:--
"'Well, we'll go and try to find the boy you gave it to, and buy your
jacket back.'
"Fortunately the search was successful, and the coat was bought back for
no less a sum than half-a-sovereign.
"And in later years it was just the same with Tom. He could never pass
by a common cookshop, in front of the windows of which was often a crowd
of men, women, and children, looking on with longing eyes, without
getting them inside and giving them a fill to their hearts' content.
When out driving it was no different. He would stop the horse, and have
all the watching hungry ones inside, and the next moment they would be
revelling in the satisfying properties of thick slices of plum-pudding
and roast beef."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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