motive power in my faithful and attendant legs, so I dodged from his Dobbin and climbed the hill. While I was leaning on the wall and looking out over the darkened valley, pairs of lovers strolled by me hand-in-hand. An automobile whisked its glaring nose around the bend in the road farther up and began charging down upon me. It didn't stop for a moment to apologize for its intrusion, but came burning its bright path down the hillside. How it shot its gleaming rays into the stones where the lazy lizards lay tucked snugly away in their beds. How it whizzed around an angle in the road and played for a moment on the modest meat shop where a strong-armed woman did a thriving business under the glaring sign, "Carne Tuorno." It headed point blank for a sauntering Romeo and Juliet and made them dance around right spry in the lime light, and then with a snort and a honk it vanished down the road, leaving in its wake a clack of limbered tongues.

How soon the hour had sped by. It was time to return from these blessed heights to Florence the fair. I have never viewed the valley from these heights when hill and vale were flooded with the golden sunshine. I have never stood on this elevation and watched the sun sink itself behind the empurpled hills. Yet the sweet promise of the dawn or the glorious fulfilment blazoned forth at sunset, could not have been more impressive than the mantle of darkness that enfolded this historic hill that balmy night in August.

I could look down from these mountain heights and see the sweet and silvery lights of the city that gleamed like scattered jewels of wondrous purity. How calm and still twinkled this meadow set with stars beyond the mountain side of blackest night. And then, above, I saw the North Star still starring and the Big Dipper still dipping and I felt quite content.

O

UR friend, and contributor, Harry D. Williar, of Baltimore, expresses his satisfaction with the reproduction of his pictures which appeared in our October number. "I think the marsh picture fine," he writes; “it could not be bettered; in fact, it looks to me better than the original. The horse head is also good, but the frontispiece does not do the original justice." Mr. Williar goes on to say that he had five of his pictures, on Cyko Paper, accepted by the Salon, and that he is now at work on a one-man exhibit for the New York Camera Club. Mr. Wilfred French, our esteemed contemporary, writing in regard to Mr. Williar's pictures, refers to one of them as "one of the finest photographic pictures of nature it has ever been my pleasure to see." Such praise is very gratifying to both Mr. Williar and ourselves.

SHELL COTTAGE.

BY E. LUMSDEN BROWN, F.R.S.S.A.

T IS not uncommon for the amateur photographer to wander far afield in order to find something new and interesting for the camera, and thus quite overlooking that which lies at his own door. Such, for example, is the subject of this article, "Shell Cottage." Its very appearance indicates it in itself, for it is one artistic structure of different varieties of shells blended together in the most harmonizing manner. Not only is the cottage itself decorated in this way, but the garden surrounding it is also laid out in an artistic. and clever manner, and in my opinion well deserves the name of "Shell Garden." Standing as it does within the easy reach of hundreds of amateur photographers and a prosperous photographic society, this beautiful work of art seldom sees the camera. I, myself, exposed twenty-seven plates, and not one too many, and I am now in the possession of a complete record of a retired sea captain's efforts at picture-making in shells of various kinds, sizes, hues, etc.

In the treatment of the garden itself a variety of subjects is introduced, which goes to mark the artistic taste, conception and instinct which prompted the captain to carry out such a scheme. He made use of the subjects which appealed most to him at the time. An engine and tender are to be seen coming

out of a tunnel, also an animal at the side of the door. Above the letter box is worked out the face of His Satanic Majesty, though not quite so fierce, as if keeping guard over all who enter. We see the figure of a horse, a sheep, the shaft of a coal pit, and at the side of the door the highland figure of Rob Roy. The effect in color of the kilt here is very good. A general view, including a shell weighing about two hundredweight, which does duty as a sparrow's bath, is shown herewith. Two ships are depicted on either side of the wooden door. Another view (but not shown herewith) shows a man on horseback, also some species of the farmyard. Also a horse race is clearly depicted. In this same picture a cottage is defined, as also a couple of hens. A railway conveyance, a hut, a tree, and various other small items, and the ever wary owl, are shown in another. A very clever representation is in the form of the Town Hall, shown in the entrance to the garden picture, which stands out very clearly. Along from this is to be seen a clown and a jockey. Above the door is a fish, and around the walls other styles of arrangement. A very fine specimen of the old cock that crows, and the turkey, shows fairly well, but in the original the color helps it very much. In the view "End of the Garden," we have on the left a running horse and a hound. On the right our world-wide honored Robbie Burns at the plough. Below, on the left, we have under the bird the famous Tom Thumb on his coach and four, also his cottage. In the general view of the Shell Garden, to the left, above the church, is a

very good representation of Livingstone, the well-known explorer, being attacked by a lion. The white part below indicates the man, and the massed dark part across, the lion, and the pointed bit above indicates his ever faithful black servant to the rescue.

The walks of this beautiful and interesting garden are paved with stone bottles, inserted neck downwards, which is well depicted in one of the illustrations. This lends a very effective tone to the whole scheme.

Though the artist of this unique cottage is now departed, he has left behind him a living testimony of a useful and well spent life. It is in this way, likewise, that we as amateurs can think out a scheme, and thus accomplish much if we only try, and when all is said and done ours is not a selfish pastime, for we can, at little cost, give great pleasure to thousands (not forgetting hospitals, etc.), who will welcome all, even what some of us may call our waste prints.

The day of my visit to "Shell Cottage" was a real pleasure to me, so do not pass by what may only seem to you to be a lot of common shells, or other similar thing, but see what you, dear reader, can do with what is before you.