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My grandmother, who died at the age of ninety-nine, lived

in a state of incandescent amazement. One of her earliest recollections was the pained surprise occasioned by the fact that the family barouche was transported from Dover to Calais upon a public conveyance known as " The Steam Packet." She was equally entranced when Crippen was caught by wireless, and M. Bleriot flew the Channel. She taught us, in the energy of her unfading mind, not to spurn these delicious moments of astonishment. She would rap out at us with a sharp ebony stick if we showed any tendency to be less excited than she was by the Jules Verne world in which we lived. I am grateful for this lesson. To this day I refuse to allow the sense of wonder to shrivel in my soul.

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