X THOMAS HOOD'S HOMES AND FRIENDS "Jealous, I own it, I was once WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR. HUMOUR and Pathos linked their hands across the cradle of Thomas Hood to vow him for their own. And he was theirs till death. Over the events of his life, or the creations of his brain, that joint possession never slackened its hold for an hour. If, to visible seeming, Pathos holds supremacy to-day in the suffering of the poet's body, Humour claims the guidance of his muse; if to-morrow Humour should irradiate his outward life with laughter, we may be sure that Pathos will cast its shadow within. Tears and laughter are never far apart in that strangely mingled life. Behind the smile there is a thinly veiled sadness; through the tears there comes a gleam of mirth. It was a dual life he lived, an April day of shine and shadow. Hood once paid a visit to Ham House, which nestles so picturesquely among stately elms at the foot of Rich mond Hill, and within a stone's throw of the "silver streaming Thames." It was summer-time, and the historic mansion and its famous avenue looked their best. But that visit was responsible for the creation of "The Elm-Tree." Hood saw nothing of the bright sunshine, heard nothing of the songs of birds, or rather, he saw and heard them, and saw and heard beyond them. As he wandered down those avenues of loftly elms he caught no bird melody, but a “sad and solemn sound" filled his ears, which seemed now to murmur amid the leaves over his head, |