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Full Download Prepare Your Data For Tableau A Practical Guide To The Tableau Data Prep Tool Ebook PDF
Full Download Prepare Your Data For Tableau A Practical Guide To The Tableau Data Prep Tool Ebook PDF
Tim Costello
Lori Blackshear
Prepare Your Data for Tableau: A Practical Guide to the Tableau
Data Prep Tool
Tim Costello Lori Blackshear
Euless, TX, USA Fort Worth, TX, USA
Lori’s Dedication:
First and foremost, to my co-author Tim Costello, without
whom I would never have had the courage to imagine a
book and would have never had the guts to embark on our
current Brindle Solutions LLC adventure.
My husband Dan Blackshear, who has provided the
stability and support without which the risks would have
been too great.
My children Jasmine, Travis, and Colby who likely believe in
me more than I believe in myself.
Last, but not least, to my grandmother Virginia Joan
Hardman who has told me my whole life that I should write
a book. (I don’t think this is the type she had in mind.)
Special Thanks
Our special thanks to Wendy Zhou and baby Vina. Wendy
is an old and special friend. She is one of the brightest stars
in the Tableau community and someone I respect and
admire. Lori and I were thrilled that she chose to tech edit
this book. What we didn’t know was that she would be
editing the final draft of the last pages from a hospital bed
while she was in labor!
We welcome baby Vina to the world with all our love and
best wishes.
Baby Vina: We look forward to meeting you in person and
someday having you sign a copy of this book!
Table of Contents
About the Authors��������������������������������������������������������������������������������xi
About the Technical Reviewer�����������������������������������������������������������xiii
Foreword��������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������xv
Part I: Extract�����������������������������������������������������������������������������11
Chapter 3: Connecting to Data������������������������������������������������������������13
Working with Server-Based Data Sources����������������������������������������������������������14
Connecting to SQL Server������������������������������������������������������������������������������14
Initial SQL (Running SQL on Connection)�������������������������������������������������������16
Working with Tableau Data Extracts�������������������������������������������������������������������19
Working with File-Based Data Sources���������������������������������������������������������������20
Connecting to Microsoft Access��������������������������������������������������������������������20
Connecting to Microsoft Excel�����������������������������������������������������������������������22
v
Table of Contents
Chapter 5: Joins���������������������������������������������������������������������������������53
What Is a Table?��������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������53
Equijoins�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������54
Join Types�����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������55
Inner Joins����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������55
Left Joins������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������55
Right Joins����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������56
Outer Joins����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������56
The Shape of Your Data���������������������������������������������������������������������������������������57
Exercise 5.1: Joins����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������58
vi
Table of Contents
Missing Data�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������67
Finding Missing Records�������������������������������������������������������������������������������68
Bringing It All Together����������������������������������������������������������������������������������71
But Wait, There’s More!���������������������������������������������������������������������������������������74
Summary������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������76
Chapter 7: Cleaning����������������������������������������������������������������������������91
Exercise 7.1: Add Step����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������91
Exercise 7.2: General Cleanup����������������������������������������������������������������������������94
Merge and Clean�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������94
Make the Data More Consistent��������������������������������������������������������������������99
Split�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������104
Exercise 7.3: Split���������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������105
Recommendations��������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������108
Handle NULL Values������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������115
Filtering Records�����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������116
Summary����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������119
vii
Table of Contents
Chapter 9: Aggregate������������������������������������������������������������������������131
Aggregating Data����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������132
Summary����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������135
viii
Table of Contents
Dates�����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������180
Custom Date������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������183
Hierarchies��������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������185
Groups���������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������186
Comments���������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������188
Organize Dimensions and Measures�����������������������������������������������������������������190
Calculated Fields�����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������191
Live or Extract����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������192
Summary����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������197
Index�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������199
ix
About the Authors
Tim Costello is a senior data architect focused on the data warehouse life
cycle, including the design of complex ETL (Extract, Transform, Load)
processes, data warehouse design, and visual analytics with Tableau. He
has been actively involved with Tableau for almost 10 years. He founded
the Dallas/Fort Worth Tableau user group. He has delivered hundreds of
Tableau classes online and in person all over the United States and Canada.
When Tim isn’t working with data, he is probably peddling his bicycle
in circles around DFW airport in Dallas, Texas. He aspires to be a long-
distance rider and enjoys going on rides ranging over several days and
hundreds of miles at a time.
xi
About the Technical Reviewer
Wendy Zhou is a data visualization pioneer in ASB Bank who is passionate
about leveraging data and emerging technology to tell fascinating
stories. She tailors and facilitates Tableau training for her clients and
colleagues, in a way that everyone can enjoy the peace and love of data
with less drama.
She is a client-centric strategist with the heart of a revolutionary
artist. She has been traveling with her young family while simultaneously
working and solving data world problems for her clients from government
to healthcare, Fortune 500 to rocket start-ups in Canada, New Zealand,
and China.
She has a heart of giver, served as TUG leadership in Montreal,
Canada, and Auckland, New Zealand, from 2013 to 2016.
She is a mother to three beautiful children and lives in Long White
Cloud New Zealand. She loves cooking (but not baking!). She is also a
YouTube-taught hairdresser (check out her FB page Wendy’s Barber Shop)
and enjoys many activities from crocheting to violin playing.
xiii
Foreword
You’ve picked up a book on data, so that marks you as someone who had
to take data and turn it into useful information.
Wouldn’t it be wonderful if your data came to you complete, in the
right format, and without errors? Unfortunately, the world isn’t perfect,
and neither is the data that you have at your disposal. You must concern
yourself with the condition and completeness of the data. You also have
to find out about the who, what, where, when, why, how, and how much
questions related to the data before you can trust it. That requires some
curiosity.
One of the most curious people that I’ve had the pleasure to meet is
Tim Costello. I met Tim around 10 years ago after I gave a speech on data
visualization to a group of data architects at SQL Saturday event. I was
demonstrating a tool that made it fun and easy to transform data into
understandable data visualizations. The audience was totally disinterested,
except for Tim. After my talk he asked me myriad questions about the tool.
Later at the speaker’s dinner, Tim sat next to me and grilled me for another
2 hours about the tool, how I found it, what I had done with it, etc., etc. Tim
has curiosity.
I haven’t read Tim’s book (yet) but I will. I think you can count on Tim.
His curiosity about the world has led him to write this book and that’s good
enough for me to read it when I can get my hands on a copy.
What might some of the who, what, where, when, why, how, and how
much questions be pertaining to your data?
xv
Foreword
6. How: How will you get the data, how can you
improve the data, and how can you automate its
production and cleaning?
The truth about all raw data is that it almost never comes in a form that
is immediately useful. It’s almost always the case that most of your time
will be spent repairing, restructuring, and cleaning your raw data before
you can even begin to turn it into useful information for people to use. Any
tool, idea, or process that can help you do that reliably will help you be
more effective at this crucial step in analysis and presentation.
xvi
Foreword
This book may give you two to three good ideas that you can apply to
your work. Maybe one of these ideas will shift your perspective or provide an
insight that helps you deal with your raw data with a better understanding
and with an improved process. Let Tim’s curiosity be your guide.
—Dan Murray, Director of Strategic Innovation, InterWorks.
Dan has nearly 30 years of business experience as a CFO/CIO/COO/
VP Planning/VP Operations and decided to join InterWorks to provide
the best possible data visualization solutions available. He strives to
give clients high-value solutions that can be implemented quickly,
incrementally, and without significant risk. Drawing from his extensive
experience, Dan wrote the acclaimed Tableau guidebook Tableau Your
Data! His contributions to the Tableau community have earned him the
title of Tableau Zen Master.
xvii
CHAPTER 1
What Is ETL?
ETL is an acronym for Extract/Transform and Load. ETL is the engine
that drives your visual analytics. Without ETL you would be limited to the
shape (existing layout) of the data you start with. In many cases this is OK,
but as you progress in visual analytics, you will find yourself wanting to
combine data sources, combine fields within data sources, or maybe even
break some individual fields out into multiple fields. You might want to
replace some abbreviations or codes out into the values they represent.
You will certainly want to know the “shape” of your data, so you can make
judgments about its trustworthiness. These are all parts of ETL, and they
are all things that the Tableau Data Prep tool excels at.
Let’s start by breaking down the parts of a standard ETL operation and
look at what each part might mean to us and why we should care.
E xtract
In the Extract phase, we are focused on connecting to and joining data.
This is where we will explore the types of joins we can use and how each
could affect the overall shape of our data. This might seem like a simple
topic, but it will be one of the things we spend the most time on in this
book. Joining your data correctly and understanding the implications of
each choice in this step are critical and can have a huge impact on the data
you ultimately export.
Transform
In this step we roll up our sleeves and get hands on with our data. First, we
will do some simple auditing to see what we are working with, spot holes in
our data, and make notes about things we want to change. Next, we begin
to explore the concept of “shaping” our data. You will read a lot in this
book about the shape of data and how it plays a critical role in creating an
output that sets you up for success in Tableau. When I refer to the shape of
data, I’m talking about a couple things. At a high level, we make decisions
like do we want a few columns and a lot of rows or maybe we want a lot of
columns and a few rows (to pivot or not to pivot our data). Then, we will
look at cleaning our data. I think you will be impressed with the variety
and power of tools we have to work with in this step. We will also look at
combining fields to create a new field, separating the content of one field
into two or more new fields, as well as aggregating and grouping fields
over multiple records. We will explore applying business rules to control
which parts of our data make it into the final output or in some cases we
might even choose to create multiple outputs for different audiences based
on the same core data. As you can see, there is a lot to cover in this phase.
These choices will significantly affect how we can work with the data in
Tableau, and we will explore each in depth in this section.
Load
The final step might seem trivial, but there are some cool things we can do
in this stage. We will ultimately end up with a complete data set ready for
analysis in Tableau, yes … but we can also create intermediate data sources
that could be extremely handy for testing our process and in some cases
maybe even useful as data sources in their own right.
2
Chapter 1 What Is ETL?
Now that we have a general idea of where we are going, let’s dive right
in and start playing with some data!
3
CHAPTER 2
This is an interesting data source (but then, I think all of them are
interesting!). The purpose of this file is to give us a crosswalk (or data
mapping) between ZTCA codes and Census Tract details.
To understand this file, we first need to understand its parts. ZTCA
is an acronym for Zip Code Tabulation Area. This is a new code created
by the Census in 2000 and continued in 2010. There is a semi-strong
relationship between a ZTCA and a USPS Zip Code, but in the real world,
this relationship is not to be trusted in all cases. The ZTCA was determined
by looking at the majority of zip codes in use in each census block. A ZTCA
is intended to overcome difficulties in precisely defining land area covered
by each zip code. Zip codes can be tricky to work with because they can
cross state, county, and census boundaries. We will use this file to connect
data at the census tract level (average life expectancy by census tract) with
school district details by ZTCA. In addition to the ZTCA code, you will find
the 2010 state, county, and tract FIPS codes as well as a field called GEOID
that concatenates these three values together (quite convenient for us as
we will use GEOID to link to another file!).
For more information on ZTCA codes, check out the Wikipedia link
here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/ZIP_Code_Tabulation_Area.
The ZTCA file I include in this book was modified to include
descriptive headers on row. The original source file is available here:
www2.census.gov/geo/docs/maps-data/data/rel/zcta_tract_
rel_10.txt.
U
S_A.CSV
This file comes to us courtesy of the USALEEP program and the Center for
Disease Control. USALEEP records estimates of life expectancy at birth
for almost every census tract in the country. This is a really interesting
program, and I encourage you to check out its page and download the
original data (www.cdc.gov/nchs/nvss/usaleep/usaleep.html#life-
expectancy).
6
Chapter 2 About the Demo Data
7
Chapter 2 About the Demo Data
8
Chapter 2 About the Demo Data
These next data sources come to you from a somewhat unlikely source.
I found them while researching this book and couldn’t help but include
them. They have some interesting detail, and they should prove useful for
practicing joins to multiple data sources. The source? A blog for an app
that helps people share expenses.
If you want to learn more, check out the SplitWise Blog, specifically the
following link for an interesting discussion on working with census data:
https://blog.splitwise.com/2014/01/06/free-us-population-
density-and-unemployment-rate-by-zip-code/.
Note Not all the data sources described in this chapter made it
into the exercises in this book, but I think they are interesting data
to experiment with, so I included them in the source files for you to
explore on your own.
9
PART I
Extract
We begin the journey from source data to fully prepped analytics-ready
data with the Extract phase. In this section we will look at the types of data
we can connect to, ways we can join different data sources, and some of
the things we can do to (hopefully) avoid shooting ourselves in the foot by
becoming more aware of common mistakes and how to avoid them.
We will begin by exploring the different files and server-based data
sources we can connect to and talk through some of the implications of
working with data sourced from different systems.
Next, we will look at a join type you might not have used before, the
union join. I’m confident that after this chapter, you will find the UNION
join to be a handy way out of a lot of common data integration scenarios.
Once we’ve conquered the union join, we will take a close look at the
left, right, and inner and outer joins. We will discuss the strengths and
limitations of each and begin auditing our data as we create joins to make
sure we are getting the results we hope for.
Connecting to Data
Tableau offers a lot of ways to connect to data, and I do mean a LOT. One
of the challenges in writing this book is that nearly every month Tableau
releases connections to new data sources. Today I count 6 file-based
data connections and 36 server-based data sources! In addition to these
built-in connections, you can connect to a wide variety of data sources
not yet currently supported with native connections via an ODBC or a
JDBC connection. With all these options, you should be able to connect to
almost any kind of data you might encounter!
We will spend the rest of this book looking at file-based data sources
(specifically text-based files), so let’s start here with a look at the file-based
data sources.
B RIGHTER and brighter shone the moon, yet it was dark in that great
wood, into which the light could hardly penetrate. Solemn as a
cathedral, too, with far above them the black roof of interlacing pine-
trees.
Only here and there the chequered moonlight streamed downwards on
the soft carpet of needled foliage that lay beneath.
Pathway it could scarce have been called, save for the blazed trees, for
the boy Chops had done his work well, albeit he had wasted the properties.
There were places where the gloom was so complete that Frank Antony had
to feel for Lotty to make sure she was still by his side. And neither seemed
inclined to break the stillness just then.
The owls and other birds of prey were in evidence here, and once when a
pigeon was scared, and flew flapping upwards from its flat nest of heather-
stalks or its perch among the pines, some night-bird struck it speedily down.
No, not an owl; for owls do feed on mice and rats.
Then they came to a glade, and once more the moon shone merrily
above them, and the black shadows of Antony and his companion pointed
northwards and west.
'More than half-way home,' said Lotty.
'A strangely impressive scene,' said Antony.
'Are you very heavy, sir?'
'For my inches I scale a good deal, Lotty.'
'Well, you must walk round by the white stones yonder. All the centre is
a moving bog, you know. It bears my weight and Wallace's easily, and we
like to swing up and down on the turf. You'll see me swing in a minute. But
you might go through, then you would sink down and down and down
among the black slime, and not be seen again, never, never, never!'
'A very pretty prospect indeed, Lotty; but I think I'll go round by the
stones. I have rather an interest in myself.'
Lotty had her swing on the green, moving turf that covered the awful
abyss, and appeared to enjoy it very much; but presently they met again on
the other side. Antony paused for a moment to gaze into the star-depths.
'How beautiful!' he murmured.
'Are you very hungry, sir?' asked matter-of-fact Lotty.
'I could do with a bit of supper, I believe.'
'Because,' said Lotty, 'the light you see up yonder comes from Crona's
cottage. Crona is a witch; but she loves me, and often, when I am hungry,
she gives me milk to drink and sometimes an egg.'
'Well, by all means let us see this witch-friend of yours. Is she very
terrible, Lotty?'
'She has such kindly eyes!' Lotty answered. Then she guided Antony up
to the long, low hut on the cliff.
The girl simply lifted the latch and entered without ceremony. A peat-
fire was burning on a rude stone hearth, and near it sat Crona, warming her
skinny hands. A tame fox by her side yapped and howled, and a huge cat
put up her back. Crona closed the big Bible she had been reading, and laid it
reverently on the window-sill, with her spectacles above it.
'Oh, come your ways in, my bonny Lotty. But wha have you wi' ye? In
sooth, a bonny callant. And, oh me, Lotty, there is something tells your old
mammy this night o' nights that this callant, this bonny English callant,
will'——
She stopped suddenly.
'Forgive an old woman, sir,' she said to Antony, 'who is well-nigh in her
dotage.'
She hastily dusted a chair with her apron, and signed to Antony to sit
down.
The fire threw out a cheerful blaze, quite dimming the light of the wee
oil lamp that hung against the whitewashed wall.
Not very many miles from this same pine-wood is the 'blasted heath' of
Shakespeare; and this old woman, Crona, but for the look of kindness in her
eyes, might well have represented one of the witches in Macbeth. A witch?
Nay; but despite her high cheek-bones and wrinkled face, despite the gray
and elfin locks that escaped from beneath her white 'mutch' or cap, let us
rather call her 'wise woman,' for witches—if there be any such creatures—
never read the Book of Books.
Any age 'twixt seventy and ninety Crona might have been, or even more
than that; but Antony could not help noticing that she herself and all her
surroundings were wonderfully clean, the fireside tidy, and the delf that
stood on shelves or in cupboards shining and spotless. Her clothing,
moreover, was immaculate; and Antony, though a mere man, saw that some
of her garments were silk and almost new, so that they could not have been
cast-offs or misfits from the gentry in the neighbourhood. Indeed, old
though she was, she looked aristocratic enough to have repelled any well-
meant offers of charity.
But humble though the abode, there were several strange, richly inlaid
chests in it, and a cupboard or two in the antique that certainly would have
been valuable to the connoisseur.
Antony loved nature, but he also loved a mystery, and here surely there
was one.
The mystery was deepened when a remark that the young man made, or
a phrase used, in good French led the conversation into that language. But
when Antony made a somewhat awkward attempt to learn something of the
old lady's history she adroitly turned the conversation.
Crona's creamy milk, those new-laid eggs, and the real Scottish scones
with freshest of butter, made a supper that a prince would have enjoyed.
Crona now heaped more logs and peats on the hearth, for in these far
northern regions the early autumn evenings are apt to be chill.
The peats blazed merrily but quietly, the logs flamed and fizzed and
crackled, the jets of blazing gas therefrom lighting up every corner and
cranny of the old-fashioned hut. Fir-logs were they, that had lain buried in
moss or morass for thousands of years—had fallen, in fact, before the
wintry blast ages before painted and club-armed men roamed the forests all
around, fighting single-handed the boars and even bears in which these
woods abounded.
Frank Antony really felt very happy to-night. The scene was quite to his
taste, for he was a somewhat romantic youth, and everything strange and
poetic appealed to him. With Lotty, beaming-eyed and rosy with the fire,
sitting by Crona's knee listening to old-world tales and the crooning of old
ballads, the fox and the cat curled up together in a corner, the curling smoke
and cheerful fire, the young man was fascinated. Had London, he
wondered, with its so-called life and society, anything to beat this?
'Some one's knocking at the door,' said Lotty, whose hearing was more
acute than Crona's.
'It must be Joe,' said Crona. 'Poor Joe, he has been away in the woods all
the evening, and must be damp and cauld!'
Lotty hastened to admit a splendid specimen of the raven—or he would
have been splendid had not his wings and thigh-feathers been so draggled
with dew. He advanced along the floor with a noisy flutter.
'Joe's cold, and Joe's cross,' croaked the bird, giving one impudent glance
upwards at Antony, as much as to say, 'Who on earth are you next?' He was
evidently in a temper. 'Joe's cold, and Joe's cross—cross—cross!' he
shrieked.
Then he vented his passion on the hind-foot of the poor fox, which was
thrust well out from his body. Reynard quietly drew in that leg and showed
his teeth in an angry snarl. But the raven only held his head back, and
laughed an eldritch laugh that rang through the rafters. His next move was
to dislodge the cat and take her place on the top of Tod Lowrie, as the red
fox was called. Joe felt warm there, so he fluffed out his feathers and went
quietly to sleep.
When presently 'a wee tim'rous beastie' in the shape of a black mouse,
with wondering dark eyes nearly as large as boot-buttons, crept from a
corner and sat quietly down with its front to the fire and commenced to
wash its little mite of a face, Frank Antony thought he must be dreaming.
The cat took no notice of Tim (the mouse), and when Lotty bent down and
stroked tiny Tim with the nail of her little finger he really seemed to enjoy
it. Antony was prepared for anything that might happen after this.
When they were out again in the open moonlight, Antony said, 'Do you
often go to Crona's cottage, Lotty?'
'Oh yes, when I can spare time. Crona is a granny to me, and I love her
and Tim and Joe, Pussy, Tod Lowrie, and all.'
'A very happy little natural family.'
They were high on a hill by this time, and far beneath them, near the sea,
its long lines of breakers silvered by the moonbeams, white canvas tents
could be seen, and many moving lights.
'That is our pitch,' said Lotty. 'The big caravan is yours, sir; the little one
not very far off is mine. That long, black, wooden building in the centre is
the theatre and barracks.'
'How droll to have a theatre and barracks in a gipsy camp! I think I've
come to a strange country, Lotty.'
'Oh, you won't be sorry, I'm sure. Father can't thrash you, and Wallace
and myself will look well after you.'
'Thank you, Lotty.'
'I wonder who on earth Wallace is?' he thought.
He did not have long to wonder.
'I'm going to signal for Wallace,' said Lotty.
She stood on the very edge of a rocky precipice that went sheer down to
the green sea-links below, full three hundred feet and over. Close by was the
mark of a former fire.
'I always signal from here,' she said, 'and Wallace always comes. He is
never happy when I am far away, and keeps watching for me.'
It didn't take the little gipsy lass long to scrape dry grass and twigs
together. A leathern pouch hung from her girdle, and from this she
produced a flint and steel, with some touch-paper, and in less than half a
minute the signal-fire was alit.
A most romantic figure the girl presented as she stood there on the cliff,
looking straight out seawards, one hand above her brow to screen her eyes
from the red glare of the flames, her sweet, sad face a picture, with the night
wind blowing back her wealth of soft fair hair and the silken frock from off
her shapely limbs.
It was not the beauty but the sadness of Lotty's face that appealed to
Antony most.
Why sad? That was the mystifying question.
He had taken a strange and indefinable interest in this twelve-year-old
gipsy child. He had come down here to take away the caravan for which he
was to pay a solid five hundred guineas, and had made up his mind to stay
only a few days; but now on the cliff-top here he suddenly resolved that, if
he could be amused, he would remain at the camp for as many weeks. He
had no intention of travelling in the caravan during the wintry months. He
would take the great carriage south by rail, and, starting from Brighton, do a
record journey right away through England and Scotland from sea to sea,
starting when the first green buds were on the trees and the larks carolling
over the rolling downs of Sussex. So now he lay on the grass, waiting, and
wondering who Wallace would be.
Hallo! Lotty has gone bounding past Antony to meet some one, her face
transformed. No sadness now; only daft mirth and merriment, her arms
extended, her curls anyhow all over her face and neck. A scream of delight,
and next moment two very young and beautiful persons are rolling together
on the half-withered grass.
One is Lotty, the other is Wallace her Newfoundland. Jet black is he all
over, like the wings of Crona's raven—jet black, save for the glitter of his
bonny eyes, the pink of his tongue, and alabaster flash of his marvellous
teeth.
. . . . . . .
'See your room first, Mr Blake, and then come in to supper?'
The speaker was Nat Biffins Lee, master and proprietor of what he was
wont to call 'The Queerest Show on Earth,' a broad, square, round-faced,
somewhat burly man, with even teeth and a put-on smile that was seldom
unshipped. Dressed in a loose velveteen jacket, with white waistcoat
(diamond-mounted buttons), with an enormous spread of neck and upper
chest. His loose cravat of green silk was tied in a sailor-knot so far beneath
his fat chin that it seemed to belong more to the vest than to the loose shirt-
collar.
'Here, hurry up, you kinchin, Lot!—Down, Wallace; kennel, sir.' Biffins
cracked a short whip, and Lotty flew to obey.
The look of sadness had returned to her face. Her father's manner
seemed to frighten her. But she tripped like a fairy up the back steps of the
'Gipsy Queen,' and stood waiting him while he entered.
Antony stood for a few moments on the stairtop. He was dazzled,
bewildered. He had never seen so large a caravan, never could have
believed that the interior of a caravan could lend itself to such art-
decorations and beauty. This was no ordinary gipsy wagon, but a splendid
and luxurious home-upon-wheels. The curtains, the hangings, mirrors,
brackets, bookcase with pigmy editions of poetry and romance, the velvet
lounge, the art chairs, the soft carpets, the crimson-shaded electric bulbs
and the fairy lights gleaming up through beds of choice flowers above the
china-cupboard in a recess, all spoke of and breathed refinement.
But no sign of a bedroom, till smiling Lotty stepped forward and touched
a spring; then china-cupboard, with fairy lights and flowers and all, slowly
revolved and disappeared, and, in its place, gauzy silken hangers scarce
concealed the entrance to a pretty cabin bedroom, with curtained window
and white-draped couch which seemed to invite repose. A cosy wee grate in
a brass-protected corner, in which a cosy wee fire was burning, a small
mirrored overmantel—making the room look double the size—table,
looking-glass, books, pipe-rack, wine-cupboard, and a little lamp on
gimbals that was swinging even now, for the wind had commenced to blow
along the links, and the great caravan rocked and swayed like a ship in a
seaway.
There were wild-flowers in vases even here, and a blithe little rose-linnet
in a golden cage; but everything was so arranged that nothing could fall,
rocked and swayed she ever so much.
Frank Antony was more than pleased; he was astonished and delighted.
But who was, or had been, the presiding genius of all this artful beauty and
elegance? Ah! there she stands demurely now, by the saloon cabin, herself
so artless—a baby-woman. He drew her nearer to him to thank her. He
kissed her shapely brown fingers, and he kissed her on the hair.
'Good-night, Lotty. Oh, by the way, Lotty, tell Mr Biffins—tell your
father, I mean—that I am going to bed, too tired to take supper. Good-night,
child.'
Five minutes after, the little brass knocker rattled, and Lotty peeped in
again to say, 'All right about father, sir; and Chops will call for your boots
in the morning.'
Frank Antony switched off the saloon light, and, retiring to his small
cabin, helped himself to a glass of port and a biscuit, and then sat down by
the fire to read.
As he smoked his modest pipe, which soothed his nerves after his long
journey of over seven hundred miles, he felt glad he had not gone in to
supper.
Whether or not love at first sight be possible I cannot say—cannot be
sure; but no doubt we meet people in this world whom, from the very first,
we feel we cannot like. Nat Biffins Lee seemed to be one of these to Frank
Antony, at all events. There was that in his manner which was repellent,
positively or rather negatively repellent. The man was evidently on the best
of terms with himself, but his manners were too much of the circus-master
to please Antony. And the young man was discontented with himself for
feeling as he did.
Yet how could a man like this Biffins possess so gentle and sweet a child
as Lotty for a daughter? It was puzzling. But then, Mrs Biffins Lee, the
girl's mother—well, Lotty might have taken after her.
Perhaps Antony's thoughts were running riot to-night; one's thoughts,
when very tired, are very apt to. He had read a whole page of the little
volume he held in his hand without knowing in the very least what he had
been reading. He shut his eyes now very hard as if to squeeze away
drowsiness, then opened them wide to read the passage over again. It was a
translation from the writings of some ancient Celtic bard which he had got
hold of, strangely wild, almost uncouth, but still it seemed to accord with
the situation, with the boom of the breaking waves and soft rocking of his
home-upon-wheels. It was the lament of Malvina, the daughter of Toscar,
for the death of her lover Oscar:
'It was the voice of my love! Seldom art thou in the dreams of Malvina!
Open your aerie halls, O father of Toscar of Shields! Unfold the gates of
your clouds; the steps of Malvina are near. I have heard a voice in my
dream. I feel the fluttering of my soul. Why didst thou come, O blast, from
the dark rolling face of the lake? Thy rustling wing was in the tree; the
dream of Malvina fled. But she has beheld her love when his robe of mist
flew on the wind. A sunbeam was on his skirts; they glittered like the gold
of a stranger. It was the voice of my love! Seldom comes he to my dreams.
'But thou dwellest in the soul of Malvina, son of mighty Ossian! My
sighs arise with the beam of the east, my tears descend with the drops of
night. I was a lovely tree in thy presence, Oscar, with all my branches round
me; but thy death came like a blast from the desert, and laid my green head
low. The spring returned with its showers; no leaf of mine arose. The
virgins saw me silent in the hall; they touched the harp of joy. The tear was
on the cheek of Malvina; the virgins beheld me in my grief. "Why art thou
sad," they said, "thou first of the maids of Lutha? Was he lovely as the beam
of the morning, and stately in thy sight?"'
. . . . . . .
The 'Gipsy Queen' lay somewhat nearer to the cliffs than the barracks
and the other caravans and tents. She had been placed here probably that
Antony might have quietness.
Tall, rocky cliffs they were that frowned darkling over the northern
ocean—rocks that for thousands of years had borne the brunt of the battle
and the breeze, summer's sun and winter's storm. Hard as adamant were
they, imperishable, for ne'er a stone had they parted with, and the grass
grew up to the very foot.
The 'Gipsy Queen' was anchored fast to the greensward where the sea-
pinks grew, and many a rare little wild-flower. And this sward was hard and
firm, so that though gales might sweep along the links and level the tents it
could only rock and sway the 'Gipsy Queen.'
Silence gradually fell over the encampment. Guys had been slackened
round the tents, for the dews of night and the sea's salt spray would tauten
the canvas long ere morning. The shouting of orders ceased and gave place
to the twanging of harp-strings, the sweet strains of violin music, and voices
raised in song. But these also ceased at last, and after this nothing could be
heard save the occasional sonorous baying of some great hound on watch
and the drowsy roar of the outgoing tide. But soon
The tide
Would sigh farther off,
As human sorrow sighs in sleep.
It occurred to Antony to look out just once before retiring for the night.
So he passed through the saloon and gently opened the door. The white
tents moving in the moonlight, the big black barn of a theatre, the gray,
uncertain sea touched here and there with the sheen of moon and silver
stars. Was that all? No; for not far from his own great caravan was a cosy,
broad-wheeled gipsy-cart, from the wee curtained window of which a
crimson light streamed over the yellow sand.
It must be Lotty's and Wallace's he believed. And there was a sense of
companionship in the very thought that they were so near to him. So
Antony locked his door and retired.
. . . . . . .
Rat-tat-tat. Rat-tat-tat. Rat-tat-tat.
It is next morning now.
Rat-tat.
H AD Frank Antony Blake not been one of the least inquisitive young
fellows in the world several things connected with Biffins Lee's
Queerest Show on Earth might have struck him as curious. He might
have asked himself why the show should have settled down here, in this
comparatively out-of-the-way part of a wild north coast. He might have
wanted to find out the secret of the merman which Lee advertised so freely
as the only creature of its kind ever captured. Why didn't this business-like
showman journey south with it, or rather him or her, whichever sex the
animal may have represented?
If such questions did present themselves to Antony's mind they were
very speedily dismissed again.
'It is no business of mine,' he told himself. 'I like a little mystery so long
as there is poetry and romance in it, and so long as I am not asked to solve
it. Elucidation is a hateful thing. Let me see now. I used to be good at
transposing letters and turning words into something else. "Elucidation?"
The first two syllables easily make "Euclid," and the last four letters "not I."
There it is: "Elucidation—Euclid. Not I." Suits me all to pieces, for I never
could stand old Euclid, and I was just as determined as any mule not to
cross the pons asinorum' (the bridge of asses).
There was a quiet but heavy footstep on the back stairs, and when
Antony opened the door the beautiful Newfoundland walked solemnly in
and lay down on the saloon carpet.
'Hallo! Wallace, old man, aren't you at rehearsal?'
Wallace never moved, nor did he wag even the tip of his tail; but not for
one moment did he take his wise brown eyes off Antony. The dog was
watching him, studying him, and without doubt trying to get a little insight
into his character. The scrutiny grew almost painful at last, and Antony, to
relieve the intensity of it, went and fetched a milk-biscuit from his little
cupboard.
'Wallace hungry, eh? Poor dog then!'