means she could she hesitated for His loud breath down upon the other side, unless by some get rid of the clinging, terrified Lottie. But one brief second only. The bull came nearer. ing was now distinctly audible; any moment his horns might gore them, or toss them high into the air. Panic-stricken, Lottie uttered a piercing shriek, and then, gathering the child tightly in her arms, Elizabeth breathed a low and fervent prayer, and leaped from the top of the stile into the field below. The height was not great, and, in an ordinary way, the girl would have taken the jump easily and lightly. But between her terror of the bull, and the weight of Lottie, she now fell heavily, and on trying to rise to her feet she found it impossible to move. "Lottie," she said, with a moan, "I've hurt my footsprained my ankle, badly, and can't get up or walk." Lottie who had scrambled away, to a considerable distance from the stile, well and unhurt, now burst into tears, and running back to Elizabeth's side, cried and wept noisily. "Hush! dear," Betty whispered faintly. "It's nothing to cry about. The bull can't touch us here. So don't be frightened." But you-you- tan't walk-and I" "You know where your home is ?" "Oh! Yes. Not very far-just round there-it's called Rathkieran." "Rathkieran ! " Elizabeth flushed. "My grandfather's old home. Then, is your name Arrowsmith, dear?” Yes, Lottie Arrowsmith." "Will you run and ask someone to come and help me to get back to Docwra, where I live?" "Yes. But," with a sob, "you'll be lonely when I'm gone." "That can't be helped, Lottie." The little girl gave a sudden shout of joy. Her tears dried up, and though by magic, and she clapped her hands, and danced away, singing out gaily: "Why here comes CharliePunch went for him, of course. Charlie's my big brother, you know-just over from London for our dance. Oh! he's strong and will carry you home like a leaf." And she kept hopping from one foot to the other. "Charlie, Charlie! quick. The kind girl jumped and hurt her foot. She has to get home to Docwra, and tan't walk a step. You'll have to take her in your arms, as she did me, and carry her-I know you will. So be quick, old man. Be quick!" Elizabeth crimsoned to her hair, and made another effort to get up, as, hand in hand with Punch, she saw a tall, broadshouldered young man hurrying towards her. "Don't talk so much, Lottie, little woman," he said in a pleasant, manly voice, smiling down upon the child. "You worry Miss Tiernan with your chatter." "I'm not Miss Tiernan," Elizabeth answered, shyly, raising her blue eyes to his face, "only her cousin, Elizabeth O'Neill. I live with my uncle and aunt." He held her hand for an instant, then, laughing a little awkwardly, said: "I'm glad to make your acquaintance, Miss O'Neill, I am Charles Arrowsmith." But I'm "So Lottie told me. I am glad to meet you. afraid I'll be a troublesome acquaintance just now. I jumped from the stile, with your little sister in my arms, and I think I must have sprained my ankle." "It was very brave of you to throw yourself between these children and the bull," and he looked at the sweet girlish face with admiration. "Fortunately, we are not far from Rathkieran. So if you will allow me, I'll help you there, and then drive you to Docwra in the carriage." "There's only a pony-trap, Charlie," sang out Punch cheerily. "The carriage is an awfully ramshackle affair. Mother says it must be about a hundred years old." Elizabeth's eyes twinkled, and meeting young Arrowsmith's merry glance, she burst out laughing. A la bonne heure," Charlie cried, delighted. "Your lame foot hasn't interferred with your good spirits. But oh! I say, you won't be able to dance at our party to-morrow evening. I am sorry." "Oh! but I wasn't going to the ball, any way," Elizabeth said, her colour rising. "I'm only sixteen, and never go to balls." "But this isn't a ball. Only a country hop." "My three cousins will be there. That will be enough from one house," the girl said firmly, as though dismissing the subject. "And now, if you'll kindly help me-I-I'd like to get on. They'll be uneasy about me at home." "Of course. Forgive me, I'm very forgetful-now," raising her a little, “just put your arm round mine-so” Elizabeth clasped her hands round his, and pulled herself up. But as her foot touched the ground, a cry escaped her, and she fell back upon the grass, white as death. "You cannot walk," he cried, in a tone of deep sympathy. "Tis useless to try. Why, you're only a feather weight, I'm sure," and gathering her up in his strong, young arms he strode off with her. Before Elizabeth quite realized what had happened, she found herself lying on a sofa in a strange room. (To be continued.) CLARA MULHolland. SURSUM My life awoke upon a lonely mountain, Where wild birds skimmed along the glimmering waters, My shadowed soul had never seen the light, The Sun arose above the other mountains, Yet stood I up again to fuller living, R. M. G A DUBLIN FIRM OF LONG STANDING WHE THEN we begin by confessing that "Our Publishers " suggested itself as an alternative title, it will be at once perceived that the present paper approaches perilously close to the old case of Cicero pro domo sua. Without a word of notice we allowed the golden jubilee to pass by of the House which has been named on our cover every month for these three-and-thirty years. Half a century is a venerable age for a publishing firm in Dublin. In Edinburgh, indeed, Blackwood & Sons have survived their century, and the history of the House has taken its place in literature through the threevolume narrative which Mrs. Oliphant did not live to complete. The Murrays and even the Sampson Lows have permanent record as items in literary history. It is indeed characteristic of Scotch perseverance that Blackwood's Magazine is now in the third or fourth generation edited by a Blackwood, and Chambers's Journal is edited by a Chambers. The names of Longman and of Murray are still represented in their respective firms. The only approach in Dublin to this continuity is made by M. H. Gill & Son. There is not any Hodges in the firm that established itself first as Hodges & Foster; nor is James Duffy represented by anyone of his name or blood in the firm that his spirit and industry founded.* The firm of M. H. Gill & Son is conducted by the grandsons of the founder ; and there seems to be no danger of the name dropping out of it for many generations. Michael Henry Gill was born in 1794, of a King's County family. He was thus considerably older than two competitors whom he survived many years-the Dublin and London publishers named together at the foot of the page. He became, early in his manhood, the manager of the University Press, Trinity College, leased by Graisberry & Campbell, when this became the property of the widow of Mr. Graisberry. He himself became eventually the proprietor of the establishment, Some interesting particulars about James Duffy will be found in the IRISH MONTHLY, Vol. xxiii. p. 596. Also about James Burns, the founder of Burns & Oates. These two good and useful men were born in the same year, 1808, and died in the same year, 1871. and as early as the year 1833 books issued from the University Press bear the imprint of M. H. Gill. He printed about this time a great deal of work for a firm very prominent in Dublin between 1824 and 1860, but now quite forgotten, William Curry, Junior & Co.; and a little later for a spirited Scotchman, James McGlashan, from 1840 till 1856. Perhaps the daintiest piece of Dublin typography was the exquisite quarto which contained the first issue of the Ballads, Poems, and Lyrics of Denis Florence MacCarthy in 1850. McGlashan was chiefly identified with 21, D'Olier Street. He removed to new premises, 50, Upper Sackville Street; but there his business did not prosper, or at least he became insolvent. Mr. Michael H. Gill purchased his stock, copyrights, and premises, thus founding the firm of McGlashan & Gill. This was its style and title for twenty years, and "McGlashan & Gill, 50, Upper Sackville Street," is the imprint on the first three yearly volumes of the IRISH MONTHLY. But on the title page of 1876 this becomes "M. H. Gill & Son;" and so it continues to this day. Mr. Henry J. Gill, M.A., the eldest son of the founder, had indeed conducted from the first all the departments of the publishing and bookselling business with remarkable energy and ability, and it was he who established the House firmly in its present position. His venerable father died March 20, 1879, in the eighty-third year of his age. He himself reached only his sixty-seventh year, dying on the 29th of October, 1903. Some time before, he had turned the firm into a private Limited Liability Company with Mr. Michael J. Gill, B.A., and Mr. Richard A. Gill on the Board of Directors. The former, who entered the firm in 1888, became, upon his father's death, Managing Director. When the excellent man who may be regarded as the second founder of the "Dublin Firm of long standing" of which there is question in this paper, passed away in his turn, our Magazine, as in duty bound, recorded briefly his work and worth. We applied to him what we had quoted in an earlier volume as having been said of two others of the same holy calling. Yes, a holy calling, for, as Father Gallwey asks in one of his prefaces, "after the sacred work of the Priesthood what calling is there more profitable to souls than that of a hard-working publisher of good books?" As Cardinal Cullen said of James Duffy, Henry Gill also "deserved well of the |