We are the first nation in the world, sir, saving the Jews." This was late in the afternoon of a temperate spring day.

We were watching Desborough as he was giving the finishing touches to a beautiful watercolour drawing.
"Doctor," he said, "come and pass your opinion." "I think you have done admirably, Captain," said the Doctor; "you have given one a splendid idea of distance in the way you have toned down the plain, from the grey appearance it has ten miles off to the rich, delicate green it shows close to us.

And your mountain, too, is most aerial.

You would make an artist." "I am not altogether displeased with my work, Doctor, if you, who never flatter, can praise it with the original before you.

How exceedingly beautiful the evening tones are becoming!" We looked across the plain; the stretch of grass I have described was lying before one like a waveless sea, from the horizon of which rose the square abruptsided mass of basalt which years ago we had named the Organ-hill, from the regular fluted columns of which it was composed.
On most occasions, as seen from Major Buckley's, it appeared a dim mass of pearly grey, but to-night, in the clear frosty air, it was of a rich purple, shining on the most prominent angles with a dull golden light.
"The more I look at that noble fire-temple, the more I admire it," said the Doctor.