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Eminent Masons At Home.

Eminent Masons at Home .

No . VI . —MR . AUGUSTUS HENRY GLOSSOP HARRIS AT THE ELMS , REGENT ' S PARK . THE beauties of the Outer Circle , Regent ' s Park , are not appreciated on a frosty morning in November , when the leafless tress are curtained in mist , and the inhabitants of this part

of the metropolis are not yet risen from their beds . Your steaming cab-horse canters on round an interminable circle , past innumerable " terraces" hidden behind gruesome-looking gardens , past the outskirts of the " Zoological , " where the animals are still within their houses , past the wretched-looking Regent ' s Canal , always

sluggish and lazy , until you approach the North Gate , where you turn out into the Avenue-road , and hence into the private drive leading to The Elms . You will not be too sentimental on a morning in November , or you would seek some

information as to the surroundings of the place . Those gates ! Have you not seen them somewhere else , weathered by the same elms , which meet and interlace their branches above your head ? And the church , too , with its " squatty " tower trying to creep behind the hedgerow and mist

for very shame at leaving its Sussex graveyard and planting itself in London town . And the tinkling bell whose sound is dulled by the moisture of the atmosphere . Surely that bell has called you to matins and to vespers in other lands ! But no , it is you who are mistaken in these things . It is no Sussex homestead you are

approaching with the Norman Church and the keep , neither is there any village blacksmith shop . The elm-trees and the beeches have never been rippled by a breeze " bio . ving over the meadows brown . " So you shake off those impressions and hasten through

Eminent Masons At Home.

the grounds to the house which Augustus Harris has inhabited since he vacated his hospitable mansion in Portland-place . You do not expect to find him warming his feet before the fire or enveloped in the pages of a daily paper , and you are not surprised when you are invited to step into the bedroom and chat to him after he has enjoyed his morning tub . If you expected to find him alone ,

you are again mistaken , for his private secretary is already at his desk plotting out the work for the coming day . A pile of letters has already received attention , and a dozen newspapers have been scanned over long before you appeared upon the scene , and yet your host has not completed half his toilet . In this early hour ,

whilst incessantly wandering from room to room , the manager of the greatest theatrical enterprises of the day matures his plans . He can attend to his dressing , discuss the morning news , and direct his secretary at one and the same moment , and everything is carefully and decisively executed . His collar must remain unbuttoned

while he edits a letter at his own table , and nothing , however trivial , escapes his memory . In the bookcase , which covers half one side of the room , is crowded a magnificent collection of works and

books of reference upon the costumes and decorations of all times and of all nations . " The Encyclopaedia Britannica " and Pierre Larousse ' s " Grand Dictionnaire Universal dn XIX Siecle " occupy the principal shelves ; but all the poets , from Shakespeare to Eliza Cook , with histories and guide-books , are here , beautifully bound and well preserved . Dozens of French plays , works on

textile fabrics , and the cultivation of the voice , shoulder each other on the shelves in rich profusion , and almost every volume has been scored over by their owner when he has flung himself into a chair for a few moments" relaxation before retiring for the night . In the bath-room , artfully hidden behind a screen , is a huge nest of lettered

pigeon-holes , into which the great impressario discharges the papers that somehow get into his pockets without his knowledge . It was not until after a stern siege that the material side of Mr . Harris ' s existence was allowed to penetrate into the domestic haunts of the bath-room ; but now his bedroom itself has been attacked , and the

inside of the plate-glass doors of his wardrobe—a unique specimen of modern tortoise-shell and ivory inlay , in walnut—is covered with papers pinned or gummed there for ready reference .

In the drawing-room , which is rich in beautnul vases , are the portraits of Augustus Harris ' s most intimate friends , but perhaps the most interesting souvenir is the revolving photographic stand in ormolu and onyx , presented to him by the principals of the late Italian Opera Company . Your eye picks out a couple of portraits , unblushingly placed in the most conspicuous position ; they are those

of your host and his wife , before the torrent of good fortune had borne them onward . Through the long casement windows , heavily curtained this chill November morning , you note the conservatory , given over to the palms and ferns of the season , without a solitary speck of colour to warm your heart . Beyond , the gardener is busy

with his rose-trees , preparing them for the siege of winter , and across the lawns , which stretch away to the church , half-hidden with the foliage of the never-d ying laurels and holly-bushes , come the sharp , crisp tones of the bell calling the early worshippers to prayer . It is

a peaceful scene this and one that you linger over with some sorrow . There is no breakfast for the master of The Elms , who starts the work of the day with an early and heavy lunch , to which all morning visitors are cordially invited . But here there is no repose . It is the time for telegrams and hasty letters . Half-a-dozen invitations to dine at the same hour must of necessity be declined . lie cannot be

at nine different parts of the Metropolis at the same moment , so the nine " summonses" he receives to " attend the duties of your Lodge" must also be disobeyed . The soup gets cold , as soup will , and the fish is disregarded because Lewis Wingfield has brought over his sketches for the new costumes in some future production .

These , of course , are discussed , and here you get a trait in the character of Augustus Harris which has had no little share in the success of his stage productions . He is a man of parts—of many parts—but one of those parts is the studied deference he pays to