cate her from the crowd, and she looked in his face. Something that she found there made her tighten her hold on his

arm.

"We can't run away and leave Aunt Ellen," was all she said; but her voice sounded scared. Stoner repressed a gesture of anger, and came to a standstill just behind two big police

men.

The last-comer to that strange platform, after standing for some seconds with her back to the people and talking to Ernestine Blunt, the tall figure in a long sage-green dust coat and familiar hat, had turned and glanced apprehensively at the crowd.

It was Vida Levering.

.. The woman leaned down from the platform, and spoke her last words with a low and thrilling earnestness.

"I would say in conclusion to the women here, it's not enough to be sorry for these, our unfortunate sisters. We must get the conditions of life made fairer. We women must organize. We must learn to work together. We have all (rich and poor, happy and unhappy) worked so long and so exclusively for men, we hardly know how to work for one another. But we must learn. Those who can, may give money. Those who haven't pennies to give, even those people are not so poor but what they can give some part of their labour-some share of their sympathy and support. I hope you'll all join the Union. Come up after the meeting is over and give us your names."

As she turned away, "You won't get any men!" a taunting voice called after her.

The truth in the gibe seemed to sting. Forestalling the chairman, quickly she confronted the people again, a new fire in her eyes.

"Then," she said, holding out her hands-"then it is to the women I appeal!" She stood so an instant, stilling the murmur, and holding the people by that sudden concentration of passion in her face. "I don't mean to say it wouldn't be better if men and women did this work together, shoulder to shoulder. But the mass of men won't have it so. I only hope they'll realize in time the good they've renounced and the spirit they've aroused. For I know as well as any man could tell me, it

would be a bad day for England if all women felt about all men as I do."

She retired in a tumult. The others on the platform closed about her. The chairman tried in vain to get a hearing from the swaying and dissolving crowd.

Jean made a blind forward movement towards the monument. Stoner called out in a toneless voice

"Here! follow me!"

"No-no-I-" The girl pressed on. "You're going the wrong way."

"This is the way-"

"We can get out quicker on this side." "I don't want to get out.'

"What?"

He had left Lady John and was following Jean through the press.

"Where are you going?" he asked sharply.

"To ask that woman to let me have the honour of working with her."

The crowd surged round the girl.

"Jean!" he called upon so stern a note that people stared and stopped.

Others-not Jean.

GEORGE B. ROSE

[1860-]

WALTER MALONE

GEORGE B. ROSE was born at Batesville, Arkansas, July 10,

1860. He is the son of U. M. Rose and Margaret T. (Gibbs) Rose. U. M. Rose, his father, is one of the most distinguished lawyers in the United States; he was Chancellor of Pulaski County, Arkansas, from 1860 to 1865, and for many years was on the Democratic National Committee. In the years of 1901 and 1902 he was president of the American Bar Association. He is the author of Rose's 'Digest of Arkansas Reports,' also many articles on American and European jurisprudence in various law journals. In 1907, on the appointment of President Roosevelt, he was one of the delegates from the United States to The Hague Peace Conference.

George B. Rose removed with his parents to Little Rock, Arkansas, in 1865, and has since resided there. He was admitted to the Arkansas Bar in 1879, and on May 2, 1882, he married Miss Marion Kimball. Since his admission to the Bar his law office has always been in Little Rock, he being in partnership with his father and other gentlemen of the legal profession.

He speaks French and Italian fluently, has a fair acquaintance with Spanish, and has a working knowledge of German. He is a member of the Society of Arts of London, of the National Arts Club of New York, of the International Law Association, and of the American Bar Association. He was the fourth president of the Arkansas State Bar Association.

In 1891 he published a small volume of short lyrics entitled, 'Wasted Moments.' In this volume he shows a predilection for the Greek and Italian works of art which have brought forth so much loving labor from him in later years. The book is filled mainly with poems of travel in Italy, referring frequently to Italian masters and their work.

In 1894 appeared "Sebastian, A Dramatic Poem." This dram shows considerable vigor, combined with depth of feeling. But is to be regretted that Mr. Rose seems, to a large extent, to ha abandoned poetic efforts; and these earlier attempts, which sho have been revised, and also should have been supplemented by work of maturer years, have remained neglected and overlooked

their author. Therefore, in order to arrive at a knowledge of his best work, we must resort to his prose, especially to his critical essays on art and artists.

While still quite a young man, Mr. Rose published a pamphlet entitled "Dr. Ellison, A True Story of Little Rock." This tale is such as to make one regret that the author has not written more fiction. It is the story of a physician who compounded an elixir of life, after many prolonged efforts and much study; but before he had finished and perfected it a young girl, the object of his affections, died. With the aid of this elixir he restored her to life, but he could not give back to her a mind or a soul. So he found himself with the beautiful girl returned to life, but without the power of thought, without feeling, without affection or emotion. Barring certain crudities of expression and unskilfulness in development of the plot, the conception of this story and general treatment would place it with Mrs. Shelley's "Frankenstein," or the still more powerful stories of Edgar Allan Poe.

About the same time, he wrote another story and published it in pamphlet form, entitled "William Wilson, A True Story of Little Rock." The author here makes the error of giving this story the same chief title as that of one of Poe's most remarkable efforts, and commits the additional error of giving it the same sub-title as that of the other story just mentioned. The plot of this tale also is well conceived. Briefly, a man who has wronged a young woman of his acquaintance is pursued after her death by the phantom of a little child, their offspring, who had also died. In spite of the immaturity of the author at the time of the writing of this story, one is forced to admit a deal of strength and vividness in its execution. It is to be regretted that these stories have not been rewritten, and especially is it to be regretted that no others have since appeared to make good their promise.

On May 23, 1901, Mr. Rose delivered a thoughtful and well-expressed address before the Arkansas State Bar Association on "Literature and the Bar." He wrote the sketch of Arkansas history in a publication dealing with that State; also the history of Little Rock in Putnam's 'Historic Cities of the South,' as well as a history of the Supreme Court of Arkansas in a well-known legal publication. As president of the Arkansas Bar Association, he delivered an address dealing with the early lawyers of that State.

He has contributed many critical articles to different reviews. "The Feminine Soul of the Renaissance" appeared in the Sewanee Review for October, 1906; "Goethe: Man and Poet," appeared in the same review for October, 1901; "Arnold Boecklin" also appeared