May 2, 1883.] classified in a like manner. In the peerage, it will be remembered, the various gradations are fixed by the Act of Parliament confirming the Union of Great Britain and Ireland in 1801. By this Act, all peers rank as of England, Scotland, Great Britain, Ireland, and of the United Kingdom, and this is their order of precedence. There is, however, no such statutory rule for the baronetage, nor is there any rule of an analogous character applicable thereto. Accord ingly, baronets of England, Ireland, Scotland, Great Britain, and the United Kingdom take rank inter se according to the dates of their respective patents. And where two or more patents are found to have been granted on the same day, the holders of them rank according to the order in which the patents were respectively made out. The first patent granted was to Sir Nicholas Bacon, son of the Lord Keeper of that name, and is dated May 22, 1611. Other patents bear the same date; but that of Sir Nicholas being the first one made out, his descendant, the present Sir Hickman Beckett Bacon, is the premier baronet of England. Of the Irish and the Nova Scotian or Scotch baronetage, Sir C. H. Coote and Sir R. Gordon are the premier baronets respectively; while of the baronetage of Great Britain and that of the United Kingdom, Sir E. A. Dashwood and Sir H. M. Vavasour are severally the premier baronets. To the decree of James I. made in 1612, which, as already stated, determined the precedency, &c. of baronets, there was subsequently added an order that all baronets and their eldest sons should be knighted, and that they and their descendants should bear on their coat of arms, or in an inescutcheon at their election, the arms Ireland, all baronets bear on their coats of arms If the daughter of a commoner marries a baronet, she becomes Lady So-and-so. If the daughter of a baron or a viscount marries a baronet, she becomes the Honourable Lady So-and-so; but the daughter of an earl, marquis, or duke doing so would retain her own courtesy title of Lady, and would be styled Lady Emily So-and-so, precisely as if her husband were an ordinary commoner. The widow of a baronet whose eldest son is married, though Dame So-and-so in law, is nevertheless generally styled the Dowager Lady; and although a dowager, her daughter-in-law would, in strictness, take precedence of her, as the wife of the person actually holding the title. The nominal expense of a baronet's patent is one hundred pounds; but probably before the recipient of the dignity is entirely free of all claims, he will have made a considerable hole in three hundred pounds, or even more. THE AUSTRALIAN 'SWAGMAN.' of Ulster. This badge-translating its description COMPLETELY unique in their way, and dissimilar from heraldic into ordinary language is a bloody from any other class whatsoever in any part of left hand on a white shield. The thumb being turned to the right of the shield, that is, to the the world, is that nomadic portion of the left of a person looking at it, the hand is accord- Australian population known as swagmen.' ingly an open one. Then, again, by the order Little has been written about these men outside just quoted, it was declared that all baronets the colonies, chiefly, I think, because visitors who should have place in the armies of the sovereign may happen to come across a specimen have in the gross near about the [royal] standard; put them down merely as vagrants, a kind of and this appears to be the most substantial of the privileges-beyond the hereditary dignity writer, who evidently knew nothing about them, wandering beggars, or, like a clever English as 'tramps.' itself of a baronetcy. The patent of baronetcy always describes the patentee as, say, A. W. of X.; and although it is of course competent to the sovereign to make a grant to A. W. of X. and his male heirs whatsoever, it is usual to limit the grant to A. W. of X. and the heirs-male of his body lawfully begotten-that is, to entail the honour on male lineal descendants. And inasmuch as it is in the power of the Crown to grant the honour to A. W. of X. and his heirs-general, there is no reason why a woman may not be a baronetess as well as a baroness, viscountess, countess, &c., in her own right. But, as Sir Bernard Burke tells us, there is only one instance of this honour having been conferred on a female-namely, 'Dame Mary Bolles of Osberton, Notts, who in 1625 was elevated to the baronetcy of Scotland, with at all bad, the station huts are often crowded At these homesteads, then, if the weather be remainder to her heirs whatsoever.' The wandering colonist seeking employment here, there, and everywhere throughout the land, finds it useless to take advantage of the many new lines of railway now pushing their iron feelers deep into the mighty interior of the continent. His business lies not with towns so much as at homesteads, situated as often as not many miles away from any railway station, thus involving the necessity of his making a kind of human snail of himself in his search for work, carrying on his back his house in the shape of a tent, and very often all his worldly goods into the bargain, rolled up in his 'swag.' The original baronets of Scotland or, rather, with swagmen, preferring the shelter of a shingled of Nova Scotia were allowed to place on their roof to that of one composed of calico alone. In shields the arms of that province. Now, how- fine weather, however, your true nomad likes ever, since the union of Great Britain and nothing better than to camp out under the sheltering arms of some huge box or gum tree; or, better still, in the deep recesses of a belar scrub, where the wind does not penetrate, and the long needle-like leaves form a soft and pleasant adjunct to his couch. Perhaps the reader would like a pen-and-ink portrait of the subject of our sketch. Here is one, as I saw him on the wallaby'-as swagging it through the land is called-a short time ago. Picture to yourself a muscular, low-set man walking along at a moderate pace. In one hand he holds a tin 'billy,' black with constant boiling of tea; in the other, a water-bag full of the precious fluid; whilst across the back of his shoulders, soldiers'-knapsack-fashion, is strapped a neat but apparently heavy bundle of round, oblong shape, showing only a white calico cover ing outside. This is the tent; and inside, rolled up in a pair of blankets, red or blue, are-what he will most likely tell you with a grim smile-his 'forty years' gatherings; consisting of, perhaps, a couple of shirts, ditto trousers, comb, soap, and towel, a small bag containing flour, and two yet smaller for tea and sugar. A broad-leaved straw hat, shading a face tanned and weather-beaten, cotton shirt open at the throat and breast, and round the neck a loosely knotted handkerchief. His trousers are tied pretty tightly between knee and ankle with a broad piece of calico, which, he says, not only lessens the chafe of his heavy moleskins, but stays the upward researches of innumerable creeping things which abide in the bush of Australia. Swagmen generally travel in pairs, and the two men, brought in contact perhaps by mere chance, often walk and work together for many years. If, by reason of some unforeseen accident, a separation of a few months, or a year or so, should occur, the bush-telegraph'-of which more anon-is set to work, and the whereabouts of the missing mate soon ascertained. Some, however, prefer to travel, and even to work, when they get it, quite alone, and these are known to the rest as 'hatters,' for what reason I have been unable to ascertain. But to return to our typical friend. He had travelled, with but a day's camp now and again, from three hundred miles north-west of Brisbane, to where he then stood, well towards the southern boundary of New South Wales, making altogether over one thousand miles of a steady walk, carrying a burden of perhaps thirty or forty poundsweight upon his broad shoulders. When asked if in all those weeks of travelling he could procure no work, O yes,' was the answer; 'lots of it. But you see I'd heard as the money was better down this way, so I thought I'd just have a look over an' see what it was like for myself. Chaps as I knowed sent me word as there was lots of fencing goin' on 'bout these parts, an' a fair price given; an' now'-relieving himself of his burden-could you lay a feller on 'bout here? I ain't altogether a lime-burner yet [that is, a person without money], but the notes is getting scattered. That's so!' It so happened that I could, and did, 'lay him on' to some work at fencing, which when finished, and the greater portion of his cheque 'knocked down,' he will, just as likely as not, start on another walking tour half across Australia. Thoroughly reliable, honest, and good workmen are the most of these swagmen, at least whilst in employment. The mischief is that they are never, nor ever care to be, at home; consequently, their work finished and paid for, they make for the only enjoyment they know of that the bush has to offer; that is, what they call 'a good bust,' or in other words, a drunken spree. No matter how good the employment they may have dropped into, no matter that they are making 'good money,' as they call payable piece or contract work, they will not stay for very long; and where they would willingly have been kept for a dozen years, as many months finds them rolling up their 'drums' for another trip on the wallaby.' Of course, the 'busting' process does not hold good with all of these people; there are creditable exceptions, who bank their money, working hard throughout their lives, without the relaxation of the annual spree. These men generally die suddenly, and the Crown profits accordingly. Others hide their cheques in hollow trees, first carefully wrapping them up and placing them in pickle bottles; and years perhaps afterwards, revisit the spot, only to find the face of the country completely changed. I have known several such cases. So much for the sober single swagman. Married ones are rare, and scarcely come under the heading of this paper, for they generally leave the 'missis an' the kids' in some kind of a home, whenever they do by chance take a trip on the road. As for the man who goes in for the 'bust,' when it is over, he at once starts on a walk of several hundred miles as a recuperative and prelude to another twelvemonth's work. Sturdy, independent kind of customers are these nomads of the bush. Money or no money, are they not free as air, bar the weight of their swags? Suppose your price for work does not suit one of them, well, he can afford to travel on till he gets a better figure, if such is to be procured, for well he knows that at station or shepherd's hut, bushman's camp or travelling sheep-dray, the word 'traveller' is an open sesame to food and lodging, rough but plentiful. if the swagman has money, he will always, as a rule, prefer to buy his rations at the station store, than have them doled out to him by the storekeeper as a 'traveller's ration,' and entered on the books accordingly. Still, There is no class or condition of people without its discreditable, hopelessly incurable residuum, and the swagmen of the colonies are no exception. 'Sundowners,' 'Whalers,' and 'Benders'--so the loafers of the community are known. These men fish or lie concealed in shady bends of creeks and rivers the whole day long, in sight of some great station; and then, when the evening bell rings for supper at sundown, they crawl wearily up and seat themselves at the long tables, speak sadly of the state of the roads, scarcity of labour, &c., and depart in the morning-after breakfastto repeat the same game at the next station. The nuisance caused by these 'Sundowners,' 'Benders,' &c., as they are differently termed in different districts, at length became very great, not to speak of the enormous expense incurred, when, as at many of Sir Samuel Wilson's Riverina and Victorian stations, it was nothing unusual to see three or four hundred of these men roll-up at sundown, out of whom perhaps not ten would have taken work had it been offered to them. This abuse of open-handed hospitality led to the regulations now in force in those districts, namely, that every traveller' receive his one pint-potful of flour, with, in some cases, enough tea and sugar to make a quart-potful. enough the only passenger, feeling truly 'a stranger in a strange land;' his luggage-consisting generally of an old carpet-bag, and perhaps a small box is put out, and he is told that for the present the line runs no further. Bush larrikins,' sharp-featured, freckle-faced, The 'bush-telegraph' is the term by which and precocious, with a precocity far beyond the news is conveyed by human agency over hun- most fertile imagination of English parents, gather dreds of miles of country; and it really is around to stare at the poor chummy,' with his wonderful how news is disseminated throughout fat red cheeks-about which already the everthe length and breadth of the unsettled districts hungry mosquitoes are buzzing-great heavy by means of these wanderers, passed from one boots, and clothes of, to their eyes, most outto the other at casual meetings on dusty main- landish cut. They criticise his every feature roads, in shady camps by gum-tree-bordered and all his belongings in a select vernacular, of river, or lagoon, or out back on scarcely dis- which, however, he does not clearly comprehend cernible bridle-tracks; especially the kind of one solitary word. Presently, some one takes news that is of interest to the fraternity. Does, the new arrival in hand, ascertains his prospects, for instance, old Sam Johnson of Bundelgobie shows him how to select from his kit the most want a lot of hands for ring-barking, fencing, useful articles, how to roll them up in his blankets or what not then, in an incredibly short space so as to form a swag, which shall rest on his of time, all unemployed workers within a radius shoulders by day, and help to form his couch of two or three hundred miles are steadily by night, whilst engaged in the search for labour. marching towards Bundelgobie, in hopes, as And if, as sometimes happens, the stranger is they would express it, of getting 'put on and almost penniless and entirely luggageless, he isknocking out a bit of a cheque." Has Bill more especially if broad of accent, with tongue Thompson, who lives out on the Barcoo, hap-idiomatic, and smacking freshly of breezy Yorkpened to lose the run of his mate, whom he shire wolds, rose-embowered Devon lanes, or fair last heard of eight hundred miles away on the midland county-amply provided and equipped back blocks of the Lachlan-then straightway for the road,' with not empty pockets, by the the cry for Bill Thompson's mate' is passed fathers of his urchin-tormentors, to whose very along from one to the other down the length of inmost heart of hearts comes the old story of the land; and the missing man must have got their youth in the ever-loved land; here, amidst into a very obscure corner indeed if, sooner or the loveless gum-trees, shadeless forests of gnarled later, the message does not reach him. Your box, or scorched-up plains of their adopted true swagman detests the sight of a horse, country, brought back to them vividly, almost together with all the trouble and bother attached in a flash, as it were, by the sight of perhaps a to the possession thereof. Give him 'shank's red-cheeked ploughboy, lamenting, in the Doric pony; then, when he is tired, he throws off his of their childhood, the evil hap which had brought swag, pitches his tent, and he is in camp at once. him across the ocean to scenes so dreary, and to No looking for grass and water, or walking as far a journey's end so unpromising. for his horse in the morning as he travels the whole of the day afterwards on his back. So says the swagman; and to a certain extent he is, especially in seasons like those of the few past years, on the right side of the argument; for of late many a man travelling on horseback has, after spending three times the worth of his horses in feeding them, seen them die, leaving him to throw his saddles away and swag it with the footmen. The new-comer on the wallaby'-in most cases a recent arrival from 'the old country,' or else some runaway sailor-may easily be told by his uneasy, and often limping gait, but perhaps more than all by his woe-begone and dejected appearance at first start of his novel experience, so different from the self-reliant aspect and measured, swinging tread of the long broken-in and inured bushman. It must be indeed a rough trial for the newly landed colonist who has elected to seek his fortune-having none of his own-in the bush. A few days after his landing, a 'free pass' from the government carries him by train as far as the railway runs, and in any direction he may choose or be advised to take; and after a weary journey, he is perhaps set down at a small bush township, to his eyes a miserable collection of wooden huts, hemmed in, perhaps, on every side by thick scrub, or maybe stuck out in the centre of an apparently boundless plain. He alights on the bare platform, likely B: The runaway sailor, on the other hand, who takes to the bush either from mere curiosity, a bad ship, or the ever restless desire for change inherent to the race, assimilates himself far more readily to his surroundings, stranger though they should be to him than to the landsman; and in the course of a few days you may meet Jack,' with the marks of the last 'tarring-down' still fresh upon his hands, sinking post-holes for a fence, ring-barking timber, splitting slabs, or even steering a team of bullocks or horses, with as much sang-froid as if guiding the course of the vessel so lately left behind him. Universally distinctive as a type of Australian life throughout these colonies is the swagman. You meet him everywhere. He is occasionally to be seen cautiously wending his way through the crowded streets of Melbourne or Sydney. On the decks of coasting steamers, and in second-class compartments of railway carriages, bound, perhaps, to far-off gold rushes,' but always in close proximity to that same oblong, neatly strappedup bundle which you saw on his back years ago, when you met him amidst the semi-tropical scenery of the Thompson or the Palmer, the rugged defiles of the Mount Lofty ranges, the scorching plains of Galathera, or the sandy deserts of the western seaboard. If one engages the average swagman in conversation as to his political, social, or religious views of life, you will most likely find within him an intense and almost touching belief in some frothy windbag of a politician, who in and out of season loudly champions the cause of the workin' man,' to serve his own miserable ends, an endless supply of this class of orator being always on hand in these colonies, and in whom, despite the poor failures of bygone years, the nomadic tribes of the bush still figure to themselves an apostle of glorious equality, who will at some future day enable them to throw their 'drums' from off their shoulders, with loudsounding thuds, joyfully, as for the last time, and to claim, each of them, a share in those many millions of broad acres, cattle, and sheep now owned by the all-devouring squatter. Yes, a socialist, an ungrateful socialist to the backbone of him, is our nomad, whose dearest wish is to see the man who gives him his 'note' a week and his 'ten, fifteen, two, and a quarter' respectively of flour, meat, sugar, and tea, as a weekly ration, compelled to cut up his huge estates, and to share them alike and equitably between himself and his nomadic brethren. He is great upon immigration, and eagerly watches the votes on supplies granted by the House' for this purpose, checking off upon his fingers the names of the various members who vote for or against the introduction of more 'new-chum cheap labour.' The country, he will tell you, especially if times are a bit slack,' is too full already; and if they intend to fill it up with new chums,' why, then, the only thing himself and his mates can do will be to, in their turn, emigrate to the 'old country,' and see how they fancy their style at home.' His hatred of Chinese almost amounts to a monomania. Germans share it, but in a lesser degree. Clergymen of all denominations he talks of en masse as 'parsons,' and perhaps does not seek to arrive at any very fine distinctions on the subject. Still, with all his apparent irreverence, he, after his own fashion, respects the Sabbath Day whilst on the wallaby,' in so far that, if possible, he will camp in some secluded nook, wash and mend his clothes, and con over some old book or newspaper. 'If I'm on the lookout for men,' said a squatter to me once, 'I always take those with the cleanest rig-out, and I'm not often mistaken in getting good ones. The dirtier the man, generally, though not always, the worse the workman.' Far out, where stations are few and far apart, and faint tracks, or blazed lines, alone point out the route over plain or through forest, swagmen are often bushed,' to be found sometimes in course of years as bleached skeletons; sometimes never, for eagle-hawks and dingoes carry away the bones, and every trace or sign of the obscure, unsought-for, because unmissed traveller, has vanished. But still he ever pushes on, in the wake of the foremost pioneers, confident that at the Ultima Thule of civilisation, wherever for the time that may be, his services will be needed, and that he will, in exchange for them, be given the highest wage. Enough, I think, has been said about the swagman, his habits, and idosyncrasies, to show that, incorrigible wanderer as he is, and inclined for a 'bust' as he undoubtedly is now and again, the first attribute only adds to his value as a not unimportant factor in the Australian labour market; and future writers will give him credit for the part he is playing, poor and insignificant though it may seem at present, in supplying muscle and sinew towards the settlement and civilisation of the Island-continent. A SISTER OF MERCY. Smiling all the clouds away. Tenderest grief her glance expresses, Where the wronged and suffering weep; And beneath her kind caresses, Woe and pain are lulled to sleep. All who drink the cup of sorrow, Love to feel her hovering near, For the saddest hearts must borrow Comfort from her words of cheer. Bluer seem the skies above her'; Round her breathes such heavenly grace, That we cannot choose but love her. On her bright expressive face Plays a smile all meek and tender, Borrowed from a world divine; And her eyes' angelic splendour Must the coarsest souls refine. When above the faint and dying, Feel a balm for every woe. Frail of form, yet strong and brave; Clasping close the stiffening fingers, Kindling hopes beyond the grave. All her holiest words are spoken To the ear of guilt and shame, So that spirits spent and broken Must in reverence hold her name. Sinners hear her gentle warning, And with loving words are led Through Redemption's radiant morning To that path where angels tread. Flowers of Hope, this gracious maiden For her unassuming worth Crowns her queen of all the earth. Printed and Published by W. & R. CHAMBERS, 47 Paternoster Row, LONDON, and 339 High Street, EDINBURGH All Rights Reserved. POPULAR LITERATURE, SCIENCE, AND ART Fifth Series ESTABLISHED BY WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS, 1832 CONDUCTED BY R. CHAMBERS (SECUNDUS) REYNARD ON THE SCOTTISH MOUNTAINS. Nor much has been written on the subject of fox-hunting in the Highlands; yet fox-hunting of a kind is pursued there every year. As the sport is commonly followed, no one who has not a 'steady head' would go in pursuit of reynard in the Highlands, for a fall into a bog or mire, or over the mountain rocks, might not unlikely be the result. The best huntsman that ever rode after a pack of hounds would soon lose sight of the fox in any of the northern counties of Scotland. The fox, in brief, cannot be hunted there as in the south of Scotland and in England. He is hunted in the Highlands like the polecat and gray crow, or like all the other animals which, from a sportsman's point of view, come under the category of vermin. Whilst he is carefully preserved in England, even artificial coverts or earths being provided for his accommodation where necessary, and his comforts assiduously attended to, a premium is offered for his head, or rather for his tail, in the Highlands. He is not regarded as an object of sport, but the enemy, the arch-foe, of the sportsman and sheep-farmer. Everybody thinks himself not only justified, but entitled to applause in killing a fox by foul or fair means-with gun, trap, or dog. Hundreds of foxes are killed in this way every year. But the genuine huntsman, the lover of fox-hunting as it is practised in lowland shires, will be glad to learn that, notwithstanding the efforts made to extirpate them, foxes are more numerous in the Highland hills at the present time than they have been at any previous period within the past fifty years. During the whole of the year, war is waged against the hill-fox; but it is in the summer and autumn that he is circumvented in the Highlands. The The vulpine war begins in July, when the cubs are a few weeks old, and is continued until the end of August, when the young foxes leave their dens and shift for themselves. PRICE 1d. The very name of fox, from its association with examples of cunning as set forth in the books of ancient and modern writers, in fable and story, excites a smile. He is a laughter-inspiring animal, and if better known, would, irrespective of his partiality to game, be more thoroughly appreciated and respected. Much has been recently said of the sagacity of the dog; but the fox is far ahead of him in natural ability. The dog may be trained to do almost anything. The fox, however, needs no training-he is naturally clever, and all his stratagems are solely due to the workings of his own consciousness. His many-sidedness forms an interesting psychological study. There is something intensely human in him. There is very much in his nature and individuality which binds him in sympathy with man. A person may be annoyed, but cannot remain long angry with him he is compelled to smile at the cool audacity of the animal. We have observed him in almost every circumstance and in many a fix; he will yield to no strategist in readiness of invention, and adroitness in managing his concerns and extricating himself out of his difficulties. In his family relations he is most exemplary; in his attachment to his mate, he actually displays a spicing of the chivalric spirit. He watches and guards her with solicitude all the year round; but when she has her cubs, he redoubles his attentions, and takes a great deal of the responsibility of the family on his shoulders, hunting for them and feeding them with parental pride, sparing neither lambs, grouse, black-game, hares, rabbits, nor anything toothsome that comes conveniently in his way. His whole thoughts—if the word is permissible, and, let individuals say what they please, the fox is a thoughtful animalseem to be centred in his mate and the little cubs. The fox's den-the place selected by the parents for the cubs-is easily discovered; but the fox is not altogether to blame for this, because he is unwittingly betrayed by the cubs, whose understandings have not been sharpened by contact |