MY CARD BASKET (continued).

The late Richard Dowling's card reminds me that several clever young Irishmen found their way almost direct from Ireland to my office. Two of several novels I published for Dowling should have given him a better stand as a writer of fiction than he ever gained—I referto “The Mystery of Killard,” and “The Weird Sisters.” But he never got beyond the level of the good work in those two books. Dowling introduced me to his cousin, Edmund Downey, who is now a publisher under the name of Downey and Co., and an author of good repute-in fact, two authors rolled into one, or one divided, which is it? for he not only writes books under his own name, but writes another series under the name of Mrs. Allen. Mr. Harry Furniss is also from the green isle. He drew a number of wood blocks for me early in his London career. And I wonder what has become of my then young giant friend Manning, author and actor. I have at least one of the blackthorn sticks he gave me years ago. What a splendid big fellow Manning was, indeed I hope is, for his heart was as big as his body!

I heard some years after many of my young Irish friends had found fresh fields and pastures new, that my office was a suspected haunt for Fenians and explosionists for a time, but I am sure those detestable deeds were never favourably discussed in my office or anywhere in my hearing.