Bret Harte - "East and West"

Victor Appleton - "Tom Swift and His Motor Cycle"

May Baldwin - "Sarah's School Friend"

Anonymous - "The London and Country Brewer"

Annual Bibliography of Commonwealth Literature 2007
This paper argues that discourses of love in Ghanaian market literature for youth offer a view into complex negotiations of agency and empowerment. Drawing on Deborah Durham's notion of youth as "social `shifters'" and Francis Nyamnjoh's conception of the "interconnectedness" of agency, I take Ghanaian market literature as one specific case of how African literature for youth foregrounds questions of continuity and change as African societies enter into increasingly complex global relations. In this literature for youth, received notions of love, often constructed out of impressions from American pop and hip hop music, carry new notions of agency that compete with existing "domesticated" forms. Authors like Ike Tandoh and Evelyn Tay employ discourses of love to offer youth alternative avenues for empowerment in a context of socio-economic disenfranchizement. In a creative process of "straddling", this writing both reveals and reproduces the contradictions that obtain in youth configurations of agency.

The Strand Magazine, Volume V, Issue 28, April 1893

V >> Various >> The Strand Magazine, Volume V, Issue 28, April 1893




Well, the eventful day came; and there were the old folks collected at
the railway station with their hampers and bags. The whole population of
younger folks had turned out to see them off; but not a single one of
them was to go, for old Joe wouldn't have anyone under the age of
sixty-five, as he said children were always a trouble at an outing. And,
what's more, his word seemed to be law, and that was the long and the
short of it.

The young people shook their heads forebodingly, and said they didn't
know what on earth would come of it all, that they didn't; and they only
hoped uncle and aunt and grandfather would come back all right!

But the train came in, and in hopped the old parties, and away they
went.

Old Joe Wilkings had his work cut out now, with a vengeance and all: for
as soon as they had got away from the younger folks who usually took
care of them, they began to think it was all over with them and to give
way; but Joe Wilkings roared and shouted at them, and chuckled and
threatened until he had brought them all round again. There wasn't to be
a single bath-chair, or crutch, or even a stick.

Then they got out at the station they had settled on; and old Joe
insisted on their carrying the hampers among them down to the river:
and, what's more, he chose a way across the fields where there were a
lot of stiles to get over; and he made 'em do it, if you'll credit it.
Old George Worble's aunt, Susan's mother, pretended she couldn't, and
sat down and wept: but Joe Wilkings had her on her feet again in a
twinkling; and over she had to go somehow.

[Illustration: "OVER SHE HAD TO GO SOMEHOW."]

Then old Peter Scroutts began to give way and grizzle for his bath-chair
and ear-trumpet, but when old Joe threatened to fight him if he went on
about that nonsense, why, he just had to behave himself.

Our doctor had made up his mind that something dreadful was bound to
come of the whole thing, and sneaked after them by the next train; but
when Joe caught him following them, he was so angry and furious about
it, that the doctor was afraid he would have an apoplectic fit unless he
went away as Joe commanded him to. So he retired; and subsequently
dressed himself as a rustic, and smeared his face so that he might not
be recognised, and hung about the party, offering to carry things, and
so on. But if old Joe Wilkings did not spot him after all; and got in
such a rage that the doctor thought it best to retreat while he had a
whole skin, and get back safely home.

So you see old Joe was a terrible fellow, and that determined it's awful
to think about.

[Illustration: "VERY NEARLY DROWNED."]

Well, they went on the river, and they rowed little races among
themselves; and old Ben Jumper and old Tobias Budd upset their boat,
skylarking--both of 'em being just turned eighty--and went in, and were
very nearly drowned. However, they were hauled out and made to run
about, and taken into a cottage, and rubbed down, and dressed up in
borrowed clothes; and with a good jorum of brandy-and-water apiece, why,
in half an hour they were as right as trivets, if you'll believe me!

The cold collation was a great success; and then the old boys had a
smoke, and were all as jolly as sand-boys. But, suddenly, one of 'em
looked round and said, "Why, where's old Joe Wilkings?" And after ten
minutes, when old Joe did not turn up, all those old folks began to
shake their heads doubtfully and dismally, and the old boys dropped
their pipes, and the old ladies began to weep and whinnick.

[Illustration: "OLD JOE WILKINGS--AFTER LUNCH."]

For old Joe Wilkings, being wild-like with merriment, had gone in pretty
heavily for the champagne and stuff, and had got a bit mixed, as you
might say, and he had gone off a little way to get some dry wood to make
a fire to boil the kettle over, and then he hadn't seemed to be able to
recollect which was his way back; and had wandered and wandered off in
quite the wrong direction; and at last he had got drowsy and fallen
asleep in a dry ditch with his wooden leg on the lower rail of a fence;
and then a local policeman who didn't know him had taken charge of him
and trotted him off to Winklechurch, which was the nearest village.

And those old people at the picnic got more and more depressed and
feeble and helpless; and some of 'em broke down completely, and wept and
doddered; for you see the influence of old Joe Wilkings's determination
was rapidly giving out. And at last, after the doctor had waited
anxiously at the railway station for them, and hour after hour went by
without any signs of them, he decided to look them up at any cost; and
at eleven that night he found them all sitting there on the bank of the
river that depressed and helpless you can't imagine. Not a single one of
them all had had the courage to move, and their fright and despair were
perfectly fearful. And a nice trouble he had to get them home--had to
send for flys, and bath-chairs, and litters, and goodness alone knows
what all!

Well, then they had to find old Joe Wilkings, and mighty anxious they
were about him; and a nice tramp they had up hill and down dale before
they discovered him; and when they did, they found him rolled up in a
shawl on the policeman's hearthrug, for, of course, Mr. Podder, the
policeman, was not going to lock up the likes of an old boy of his age.
Joe Wilkings had recovered a bit now, and he was that pugnacious he
wanted to fight Mr. Podder and all those that had come to find him; and
what should he do but put his back against Mr. Podder's parlour-wall
(smashing the glass of the chromo of "Little Red Riding-Hood" that was
hanging up), and invite the lot to "Come on."

However, they quieted him down and got him home at last; and when he'd
got home he was that dismal and depressed from the reaction that he sat
in his armchair all day and did nothing but grumble and burst into
tears, for, you see, he'd overdone it, and it was bound to tell upon
him. But after that all his natural pluck and determination got hold of
him again, and if he wasn't mad to have that dance that they had been
balked of!

Out he went to beat up all the old folks again; but most of 'em were ill
in bed--none the better for that picnic, I can tell you, though,
luckily, it had been a lovely day and night, as warm as toast, so that
they hadn't come to much harm beyond the exhaustion.

The younger people of the houses where he called met him with black
looks enough, you may be sure, but old Joe Wilkings wasn't the sort to
be daunted by that sort of thing; and bless me if he didn't succeed in
getting at most of those old parties again, and even getting some of
them out of bed and putting them through their paces as before.

[Illustration: DR. PILLIKIN. MR. SARME. MR. WEAZLE.]

It was really getting serious, so Mr. Sarme, the vicar, and Mr. Weazle,
the curate, and Doctor Pillikin (who lived in the house with the brown
shutters then, before he moved next door to the stores) went and tried
to get him out of the houses and make him keep quiet; but old Joe roared
at them that way that they were glad to get away home again in despair.

Ah, he _was_ a plucky one, was old Joe!

Well, he persevered and kept at it until he had persuaded all those old
parties to get up a dance in the schoolroom; they were to have printed
programmes, and champagne, and everything in style--for Joe had a bit of
money, and was as free as you like with it, and meant to stand a good
deal more than his share of the expenses.

Then the vicar and Doctor Pillikin consulted with the squire--the squire
and the vicar being justices of the peace--whether they hadn't better
give old Joe in charge and lock him up out of harm's way; for he was
getting a regular firebrand, don't you see; and they were afraid he'd be
the death of those old folks. But, after they'd consulted, they couldn't
hit on any legal excuse for charging him--(not that that little obstacle
mostly stands in the way of justices of the peace)--and they had to give
that up.

When the day arrived for the ball--for they called it a "ball" now,
bless you--all the young people agreed together to lock the old parties
in their rooms to prevent them going; but bless me if old Peter Scroutts
and old George Worble, and one or two other desperate characters didn't
manage to get out somehow, being so under the influence of Joe; and when
the hour came for the dance, there they were at the schoolroom!

And they--about nine of them--began dancing too, and a regular strange
kind of a hobble it was, as ever was seen: but at last the squire and
the vicar and Doctor Pillikin went down with the sergeant and a
constable and pretended that a new Act had been passed making it illegal
to dance after nine o'clock, and cleared the hall, with Joe dinging away
at 'em the whole time, and made the old folks go home.

Next day Joe Wilkings was going to do all manner of things--going up to
London to consult a solicitor in Lincoln's Inn, and appeal to the High
Courts, and give the squire and the rest of 'em penal servitude at
Botany Bay, and all manner; but he'd caught such a cold at that ball
that he had to take to his bed again, in spite of all his determination;
and when he got up again after three weeks he had lost the use of his
one leg, and was so weak he hadn't the heart to do anything. He was in a
bad way for a long time, but they say he's getting better again now; and
I've heard tell that the squire and that lot are beginning to get
nervous again, as there's no knowing when he'll break out.

[Illustration: "GETTING BETTER AGAIN."]

He's a tough one, is old Joe Wilkings, and, if you'll believe me, he'll
make it hot for 'em yet!

J. F. SULLIVAN.




[Illustration:

THE HORSE & ITS

Polo Pony

Heavy Cavalry Charger

Light Cavalry

Brougham

Artillery

Weight Carrying Cob

Shetland Pony]


[Illustration:

OCCUPATIONS

Racer

Cart

Park Hack

HUNTER

Funeral

The Well Known Hunter of JOHN HATCHELERE.]


[Illustration: TWO PROFILE VIEWS OF A REMARKABLE POTATO.]


[Illustration: A POTATO MASHER.

Found at Preston, and Photographed by Mr. Luke Berry, of Chorley.]


[Illustration: The above Photograph of a curious potato was taken by the
late Mr. Fox, and sent to us by Mr. J. S. Clarke, of New Wandsworth.]

VEGETABLE ODDITIES.

Copyright (c) 2007. topboookz.com. All rights reserved.