the sleeping camp behind him and the rain beating on his back. His blood warmed as he ran, and he might have sped on indefinitely, even to the defeat of his plan to return, but for a very little thing that checked his progress-only a few sparks drifting along the ground at a rise in the road before him. To his cavalry instinct it indicated the presence of a picket. It mattered little in which direction he turned. He was coated with ice like a frosted cake, and fairly crackled as he walked away from the high road through the brush of an old cotton field. A dog howled in the distance, and following this sound Babe came in good time to a low cabin in a lonely field within sound of the flowing waters of the Congaree. Red firelight glimmered mistily through the cracks of the stone chimney. Babe knocked at the door as confidently as he had rung the bell of the fine house in Covington. It was an old negro that opened it-just a crack-and peered out into the darkness. "Afo' I 'vite yo' in, Marsta, dese wah times," said the old man, "yo done 'bliged to tell me who yo' is." "Lord, Honey," he exclaimed, getting up and shuffling over to Babe, "yams that dry I reckon yo' wouldn't tell on a ole man. I is got a ham-bone in de cupboard, Honey. Sh-If dis yer storm hadn't come up, I 'lowed to bury hit in de 'tatah patch dis night. Might be a bite round de shank," continued Unc' Bijah, as he brought out the ham-bone, with the black skin flapping from the loop of twine by which it had hung in the white man's smoke-house. There were some scraps of meat still clinging to the bone, with a flavor of salt such as had not tickled Babe's palate for many a day, and when he had satisfied his hunger he rolled up the black skin, which but for the storm would have been buried deep in the sand, and put the roll in his pocket. The two men sat together before the cabin fire well into the night, until Babe's clothing had become quite dry and comfortable. The sleet had ceased to beat on the roof when he took leave of Unc' Bijah, but the night was still cloudy and dark. As Babe made his way back to the big road, which he knew ran close by the "I'm Lieutenant Highchester, from Bos- camp at the point where the extra guard ton," said Babe. loop would be thrown out at nine o'clock "Never year o' dat place befo', Sa. in the morning to take in the water, a new What is it yo' want, Marsta? Such ignorance struck through the coat of ice that enveloped Babe with an additional chill, and froze the words on his lips. "Is yo a Yankee 'scaped from Camp Sorghum," said the old man. "Is yo dat?" "Yes!" exclaimed Babe. "Lord love yo', Honey," cried the old darky, swinging the door wide, "come right in yer, an' set down close to de fiah. Is I got any meat, Honey? No, Sa, 'fo God I aint, Sa. I'se a hones' Nigga, but I allus has plenty o''tatahs in de ashes. Jes help yo'sef, Marsta," he continued, as he turned a heap of yams into view in the corner of the chimney. "Lord, Honey, look lak yo clean starved, an' yo' one o' Marsa Lincom's officas benedictionizin' Unc' Bijah's pore cabin an' 'similatin' dry yams lak a ordinary buck nigga." Unc' Bijah shook his head and shifted his position on the stool so that he could the better observe his distinguished guest. idea came to him, by which he could avoid giving the authorities the satisfaction of knowing that he had been at large. Before he came to the ford, which was near the guard line, he dropped down the stream to a safer crossing, and felt his way cautiously on to the ground which he knew would be a part of the camp after guard mounting. He could see the sentries before him against the first gray of the coming day, and all about him dark mounds which were heaps of pine-boughs. He crawled forward on his hands and knees, and worked his way under one of these mounds, where, after his fatigue and exposure, he fell asleep, only to be awakened by the glimmer of sunlight through the needles and the voices of the new guard behind him. No one saw Babe when he emerged from the brush-heap and trotted over to the miserable shelter where the Major should have been, but was not. As soon as he had concealed himself under the wet tent he unrolled his prize and cut it into small rectangles, which he packed in layers in the leather case that had held his field-glass. III THE mystery that surrounded the appearance of the bacon rind in camp engaged the gossips, to the exclusion of every other topic. Officers discussed the subject over their fires and in groups about the old field, and almost nightly in solemn conclave on the wood-pile by the road leading to the water. The rumor that Babe had been seen outside was laughed at. Once at large, he was not the man to come back voluntarily, and then it was known that his clothes were quite dry in the morning. The bacon rind had come to him somehow out of the great storm, but how or whence no man knew. There were some ignorant and superstitious officers who at tached to it a supernatural origin, and these were confirmed in their belief as the weeks passed and the bit of rind proved inexhaustible, like the widow's cruse of oil. In fact, Babe took good care to sustain this view by using first one piece and then another, never permitting any to lose its power to anoint a frying-pan. He broke in the new rinds on his own half canteen. His popularity sprang into existence full-fledged the morning after the storm. Representatives of the three colonels and of the six naval officers called and congratulated him that very day. Colonel Green came over in the evening and offered the use of the soapstone griddle, without stipulating any favor in return. This neighborly politeness Babe declined. to accept for deep and crafty reasons, leaving these high officers to enjoy the smell of his cooking while each morning he greased the frying-pan of some poor fellow who was unable to make any possible return for this favor. The vessels so treated retained for days a taste of salt and a flavor of bacon, and their use was bought and sold in the market. Babe was not above accepting a bonus or a favor in return for his office of greaser in general, and many a comfort for the Major and not a few small pieces of property came into his possession. cers were old prisoners. The Major had seen the latter peeling ripe tomatoes in the old fair building at Macon, and their white duck trousers went out regularly, in those days, to be laundered. But now their blue money had been spent and they ate meal and molasses with the others and washed their own clothes. For more than a week the aroma of Babe's cooking ascended into the nostrils of these higher officers, while the polished surface of the soapstone griddle was still a stranger to the bacon rind which had greased many an inferior pan. Since Babe had declined the use of that coveted piece of plate, tendered by Colonel Green, the members of the two exclusive messes had made no further direct overtures, but they lost no opportunity to court Babe or show politeness to the Major. The practice of such a dignified reserve touched the owner of the bacon rind, but he restrained his charitable inclinations, for certain diplomatic reasons, yet a little longer. He knew his power. In a camp where meat or salt had not been tasted for months, and where eating was the one compensation in life, the service of the bacon rind was a favor which no well-fed person can possibly comprehend. 66 Meanwhile Babe's popularity grew and fed on the mystery which surrounded its origin. Every prisoner in camp knew him by sight. He was commonly spoken of as the Man with the Bacon Rind." He was otherwise known as Captain Babe, although some said that was not his real name. No information could be pumped from the Major. It was ascertained with certainty that there was no such name as "Babe on the books at headquarters. Who was this man and where had he come from? Some believed that he was a spy sent inside to discover plots among the prisoners, and these avoided him accordingly. The Major had always been a mystery; his comrade with the unchristian name was a riddle. The belief, however, that the two were in collusion with the authorities was short-lived. There was something about the tall young fellow that won the confidence of the prisoners and compelled them to like him. Babe enjoyed the distinction and the mystery which surrounded his personality. The three colonels and the naval offi- It amused him to hear the remarks at night as his tall figure caught the light of a camp-fire in passing or crossed the disc of the moon. Human nature yielded at last in the breasts of the three colonels, or, rather, in the region below their diaphragms, and Colonel Black himself came over to make some arrangement by which his mess could enjoy the taste of that which it had heretofore been their rapture only to smell. He was the bearer of the compliments of Colonel White and Colonel Green, in due military form, to Mr. Babe and the Major. The Colonel was blunt and to the point. -d "Mr. Babe," he said, "I'll be dif we can resist the smell of that bacon rind any longer." "My dear Colonel," replied Babe, "I'll grease your griddle with pleasure. I've only been waiting for you to ask me." "Not out of charity, my boy," said the Colonel. 'My instructions are to ascertain if there is any service we can render to your mess in return for—ahem-the daily use of the rind." "I'll talk it over with the Major," said Babe, hitching the leather case around on his back. "He's a great admirer of your comfortable house. You see we are exposed to the cold and the wet ourselves, and the Major is not strong." "The Devil!" cried the Colonel. "You don't propose to demand our house for your services? "Certainly not," said Babe, "but we should like to have one like it." "No doubt you would," gasped the Colonel. "That's the point," continued Babe, "and I think, Colonel, I may venture to make you a business proposition without consulting the Major." The Colonel looked at the young fellow blankly, without opening his mouth in reply. "If you gentlemen," drawled Babe, in his most deliberate manner, “and the six naval officers will club together and build us a house, we will grease the soapstone griddle for a month." "Young man," cried the Colonel, drawing himself up to his full height, "your assurance is something sublime. Goodmorning, sir." marched back to his quarters, where the morning smoke was just beginning to curl out of the chimney of sticks. Babe knew that they were about to begin their miserable cooking. He felt that he had been a trifle hard in his terms with the Colonel and he longed to make some amends, so he walked over to the house and into the presence of the three colonels. The soapstone griddle was hot on the fire, and Babe held in his hand the tempting juicy rind. "Gentlemen," he said, 'you really must allow me the Major's compliments and mine; " and before the colonels could refuse or accept his services, he swept the bacon rind back and forth across the heated surface of the griddle, and retired bowing from the room, which was filled with the most seductive and appetizing odor. The soapstone griddle went its accustomed round that day, sowing the seeds of desire as it passed. So well had Babe per formed his office that the seductive flavor attended the progress of the griddle even into the bungalow of the six naval officers. Some inkling of Babe's astounding proposition to Colonel Black had evidently passed along the line, for several intermediate two-button messes volunteered to accept the terms which had been scorned by the Colonel. In his own mind, however, Babe had chosen his architects and builders, and he put off these eager applicants with a serene confidence that he should not be disappointed in his first choice. Later in the day when he glanced furtively in the direction of the Naval Bungalow, he observed Colonel Black in earnest conversation with the Lieutenant-Commander. The latter was washing his duck trousers in a pail, clad only in his gold-lace coat which was not so resplendent as it formerly had been. The bullion was dingy and frayed, and the stars were breaking away from their moorings. It was a conference between the heads of the two official families, in which the Colonel appeared to be earnest and persuasive and the Lieutenant-Commander interested and as dignified as was consistent under the circumstances. The legs of the naval officer were planted firmly at first, as if he were rooted on his own quarterdeck and master of the situation. Gradually, however, under the attacks of the Colonel, he began to shift The Colonel turned on his heel and his weight from one foot to the other. He was evidently in a choppy sea, for his expressive legs showed signs of weakening. The Lieutenant-Commander wrung out his vestments, and hung them over a pole to dry. Then he wiped his right hand on the skirt of his coat, and yielded it to the Colonel. Babe observed the firm grip and assenting nod which marked the end of the conference between the two officers. So eager had other messes become to secure the contract for building the house for the two mysterious prisoners, that the three colonels and the naval officers lost no time in settling the terms. The latter suspended work on their own bungalow, which was without a roof, and on the very next morning the new job of construction was begun with a will. The nine high officers piled up their uniform coats and fell to chopping and scoring and digging and levelling in a way that was highly entertaining to the prisoners who came to look on. To the Major the spectacle was embarrassing. It pained him to witness what he regarded as the humiliation of his superior officers. He absented himself at first, until he could get used to the change in his position. Babe, on the other hand, superintended the work without any disturbing sense of the exalted rank of his workmen. He was always polite and considerate in giving his orders, but firm in his adherence to his own plans. He would condescend to relieve the Lieutenant-Commander, whose duty it was to mix the mortar, or lend a hand to the colonels in placing a log in position; but when the foundation of the chimney was not to his liking the construction stopped until the error was remedied. None of these things escaped the observation of the prisoners, who came to admire Babe more and more. The romance and the mystery surrounding the Man with the Bacon Rind increased with the evidence of his power. The most distinguished officers from the highest set in camp were his servants. As the work progressed, Babe fulfilled his part of the contract to the letter, greasing the soapstone griddle generously at each end of the line. The colonels and the naval officers were more than satisfied, but as the days passed it became a cause of secret anxiety to Babe and the Major that the bacon rinds were fast losing their virtue. The house was just a month in building before the last shingle was in place and the wood laid for the first fire in the chimney. During all this time Babe and the Major had slept under the shelter of tent cloth, and cooked over an open fire on the burntout turf. The Major was no longer an invalid, having fully recovered his health and spirits; but during the last week before the house was finished the half canteen had never once been greased. The very last rind had been used up on the soapstone griddle, and its fellows had come to rattle like dry husks in the leather case. Babe and the Major looked ruefully at each other. They were far from happy on that great day which saw the completion of the house. They were gloomy, like the weather, and restless as the dark clouds trooping before the wind over the old field. The night that followed was cold. A scurry of snow, the first of the coming winter, whitened the ground between the poor shelters like a hoar frost. Prisoners shivered and cowered together in their tattered blankets. Some, who had no covering at all, sat up and coaxed the embers left from the evening fire into a blaze, which they fed with sticks. Crooning over these fires and lying awake in the tents and hovels, they marvelled at the cleverness of the Man with the Bacon Rind, and forgot to discuss the last rumors of exchange. The colonels and the naval officers awoke to regret that their work was at an end, for their pay ended with it. They had no idea that they had broken the bank. The Lieutenant Commander planned some additional comforts for the interior of the new house, and turned out at an unseasonable hour to offer his suggestions to Babe. When he came to the new house he found it empty. The fire had not been lighted on the hearth. It was sunrise now, yet scarcely a man was stirring on the old field. The LieutenantCommander turned from the house and came down to the canvas shelter. The blankets were gone and the leather case. The half canteen, whose handle was a forked stick, lay in the ashes on the burntout turf. The Man with the Bacon Rind had disappeared with his secret, and he had taken along with him the Maker of Maps. C CECILIA BEAUX By William Walton ONCERNING the work of any good painter there is much to be said, but the commentator's methods should be the reverse of the painter's. The artist's creations have distinction as they reveal his individuality, whilst the writer had better set forth his subject without any ego at all. It is more politic for him not to consider that his personal sympathies and impressions have peculiar value; that he is entitled to cherish his moods as the artist is his. It is safer to assume that the general reader VOL. XXII.-31 will not care for any putting forward of B when he wishes facts concerning A. This being so, a collection of intelligent statements respecting the painter's art may be a more useful contribution than any single one; and it sometimes happens, as in the case of the present artist, that the variety of renderings of the same general conclusions have that finer interest of subtle variations-much finer than that which attaches to gross contradictions. The distinguishing characteristics of Miss Beaux's portrait |