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187 Before me?

Yes.

I don't know what the order was at all.

So it was a call out of the blue.

I think it was a text message and then a call.

Okay. But you knew who she was when you got the message.

When we talked on the phone.

Did you have her in your contacts?

No.

No. So this is Caroline Wren, and then it sets up.

Yes.

 * BY MR.

Were you expecting a text from Ms. Caroline Wren at this time?

When I received one out of the blue?

Uh-huh.

I don't believe so.

So no one had given you a heads-up that a random person in Trump world might reach out to you—

It's possible.

—about January 6th?

It's possible, but I don't recall anybody giving me the heads-up on that. But it's possible that I would have heard rumblings. But I don't—I don't—specifically Caroline Wren, no, I don't recall that.

Do you recall the President tweeting you, and then Arthur Schwartz getting Dan or someone else the POTUS access to un-retweet you? Do you recall that?


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186 logistically improbable to have an event near the Capitol with the President of the United States. Secret Service would freak out at something like that.

And so if we were to have an event—and I should say in that first conversation there was the possibility of the President's participation. And that's why—I think that's what kept everybody in line was, you know, if he can participate, then we better do whatever anybody who's a representative of Trump world says. And—

 * BY :

Let me just stop.

Yeah.

Just she was—Ms. Wren was saying that? She was saying there was the possibility of the President speaking?

That Trump could participate.

Okay. And what did she explain about that and why he was interested in doing that? Do you remember?

I can't recall. I just remember that being the significant, exciting detail.

In that first call she's telling you that.

I think it was our first call.

Yeah. Had she ever called you before?

No. I think I loosely heard her name because I, again, spent some time in Alabama politics years ago. And—and then I know I looked her up real quick.

Just simply, do you know how she got your number?

I don't recall.

Had she talked to Mr. Stone before she talked to you? Do you know?

I don't recall.

Do you know whether she had talked to Mr. Jones, Alex Jones?

license: Creative Commons - Attribution Share-Alike - https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/


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185 and she was very nervous because she had had poor interactions with other people. We had a positive interaction. I'm a political professional. I'm not going to say no to, you know, somebody from Trump world. And I folded my event in.

And so what people was she bringing in that she told you she was going to bring in for the January 6th event?

The Kremers—she—I do remember explicitly saying that, you know, like, they want to bring in anybody who had been supportive and they needed help identifying some of those people. And then some of the people she had already spoken to, to the best of my recollection, were obviously the Kremers, Cindy Chafian. And, you know, then she tossed around some other names as prospects, you know, likes Alex Jones and Roger Stone, stuff like that.

Was the plan when she brought you in—and I'll—I'm just going to say coalition partners. Is that okay to say?

Yes.

Coalition partners?

That's fair.

When she brought in the coalition partners, was the plan to have one big event? Or was it to have multiple events on January 5th and 6th?

When we initially talked about it, she needed my expertise on that. And my advice was to do multiple events and—you know, when the decision came down, it was, like, let's do multiple events on multiple days.

Why did you want to have—why was it your advice to give—to have multiple events?

Because as I understand it, again, based off of higher-income consultants and other people who know D.C. better than me and all this other stuff is that it seems


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184 fundraising. At any point did the fundraising mechanism for these websites change from Donorbox to anything else?

I don't believe so outside of our conversation when I said, when we gotdeplatformed and we moved to an independent credit card processor for stopthesteal.us

And I don't think I asked you, but do you remember when that was, the deplatforming?

Different websites deplatformed us on different days.

Ballpark? Like a month?

Well, January 6th is the fallout. So I would just say from January 6th to a week or two later.

Oh, it that was—okay. I thought—it was quick. Okay.

I was eviscerated.

Mr. Kamenar. Excuse me. Could we be able to take a 5-minute break?

Mr. We'll go on recess now for 5 minutes. We'll come back at 4:30.

[Recess.]

Mr. Back on. The time is 4:31 p.m.

 * BY :

So. Mr. Alexander, you said before you weren't working with the Kremers to plan January 6th at any point. That's correct, right? You were planning your own event at—you were planning your own event for January 6th Stop the Steal, correct?

Yeah, I wasn't directly working with them. I was working with Caroline.

Okay. So then we see Caroline. When did Caroline come into the picture for planning January 6th?

I'm not sure. I think the text messages reflect when she first reached out to me, and then we had a subsequent phone call. And she talked about a unifying effort,


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192 President Trump, when we, the few times that we've seen each other, you know, on campaign rallies and I'll be in a VIP backstage thing or something, you know, we exchange pleasantries, because we had our first positive interaction back in 2014.

All right. So is that a yes? It's your impression he knows who you are?

Yeah, I'm sorry. Yes.

And, in fact, I think you've told many people publicly that he referred to you once or at once as you look like Sammy Davis, Jr.?

Frequently.

Okay. All right.

Ms. Frequently he has said that, or frequently you've been told that?

The Witness. Whenever we see each other, he makes—

Ms. He—okay.

The Witness. —the comment to say "Sammy?"

Ms. Got it.

 * BY :

When's the last time you saw him and interacted with him in that way in person?

I can't recall. I can't recall the date. I think it was a rally in Minneapolis.

Preelection?

Yeah, certainly.

But in the 2020 election?

I don't know if it was in 2020.

You don't know. Okay.

Yeah.

But for the 2020 election cycle?


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 Nothing else in colour was distinct and separate, but all the beautiful colours seemed to be melted into one another, and joined together in one mass, so that there were no differences, though an endless variety, when one tried to find it out. The fields were of one sober yellow brown

Tuesday, 2nd November.—William returned from Keswick.

Friday, 5th.— I wrote to Montagu and sent off letters to Miss Lamb and Coleridge

Sunday, 7th.—Fine weather. Letters from Coleridge that he was gone to London. Sara at Penrith. I wrote to Mrs. Clarkson. William began to translate Ariosto.

Monday, 8th.—A beautiful day. William got to work again at Ariosto, and so continued all the morning, though the day was so delightful that it made my very heart long to be out of doors, and see and feel the beauty of the autumn in freedom. The trees on the opposite side of the lake are of a yellow brown, but there are one or two trees opposite our windows (an ash tree, for instance) quite green, as in spring. The fields are of their winter colour, but the island is as green as ever it was William is writing out his stanzas from Ariosto The evening is quiet. Poor Coleridge! Sara is at Keswick, I hope I have read one canto of Ariosto to-day

24th December.—Christmas Eve. William is now sitting by me, at half-past ten o'clock. I have been repeating some of his sonnets to him, listening to his own repeating, reading some of Milton's, and the Allegro and Penseroso. It is a quick, keen frost Coleridge came this morning with Wedgwood. We all turned out one by one, to meet him. He looked


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124Rh would have been useless, and the alliance which defeated Germany could not have been created.

Without the Anglo-Japanese Alliance, Japan could not have fought Russia alone, but would have had to fight France also. This was beyond her strength at that time. Thus the decisive step in Japan's rise to greatness was due to our support.

The war ended with a qualified victory for Japan. Russia renounced all interference in Korea, surrendered Port Arthur and Dalny (since called Dairen) to the Japanese, and also the railway as far north as Changchun. This part of the railway, with a few branch lines, has since then been called the South Manchurian Railway. From Dairen to Changchun is 437 miles; Changchun is 150 miles south of Harbin. The Japanese use Dairen as the commercial port for Manchuria, reserving Port Arthur for purely naval purposes. In regard to Korea, Japan has conformed strictly to Western models. During the Russo-Japanese war, the Japanese made a treaty guaranteeing the independence and integrity of Korea; in 1910 they annexed Korea; since then they have suppressed Korean nationalists with every imaginable severity. All this establishes their claim to be fully the equals of the white men.

The Japanese not merely hold the South Manchurian Railway, but have a monopoly of railway construction in South Manchuria. As this was practically the beginning of Japan's control of large regions in China by means of railways monopolies, it will be worth while to quote Mr. Pooley's account of the Fa-ku-Men Railway incident, which shows how the South Manchurian monopoly was acquired:—

"In November 1907 the Chinese Government signed


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125Rh a contract with Messrs Pauling and Co. for an extension of the Imperial Chinese railways northwards from Hsin-min-Tung to Fa-ku-Men, the necessary capital for the work being found by the British and Chinese Corporation. Japan protested against the contract, firstly, on an alleged secret protocol annexed to the treaty of Peking, which was alleged to have said that 'the Chinese Government shall not construct any main line in the neighbourhood of or parallel to the South Manchurian Railway, nor any branch line which should be prejudicial to the interests of that railway'; and, secondly, on the Convention of 1902, between China and Russia, that no railway should be built from Hsin-min-Tung without Russian consent. As by the Treaty of Portsmouth, Japan succeeded to the Russian rights, the projected line could not be built without her consent. Her diplomatic communications were exceedingly offensive in tone, and concluded with a notification that, if she was wrong, it was obviously only Russia who could rightfully take her to task!

"The Chinese Government based its action in granting the contract on the clause of the 1898 contract for the construction of the Chung-hon-so to Hsin-min-Tung line, under which China specifically reserved the right to build the Fa-ku-Men line with the aid of the same contractors. Further, although by the Russo-British Note of 1898 British subjects were specificially excluded from participation in railway construction north of the Great Wall, by the Additional Note attached to the Russo-British Note the engagements between the Chinese Government and the British and Chinese Corporation were specifically reserved from the purview of the agreement.


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 well. We had to tell him of the birth of his little girl, born yesterday morning at six o'clock. William went with them to Wytheburn in the chaise, and M. and I met W. on the Raise. It was not an unpleasant morning The sun shone now and then, and there was no wind, but all things looked cheerless and distinct; no meltings of sky into mountains, the mountains like stone work wrought up with huge hammers. Last Sunday was as mild a day as I ever remember Mary and I went round the lakes. There were flowers of various kinds—the topmost bell of a foxglove, geraniums, daisies, a buttercup in the water (but this I saw two or three days before), small yellow flowers (I do not know their name) in the turf. A large bunch of strawberry blossoms It is Christmas Day, Saturday, 25th December 1802. I am thirty-one years of age. It is a dull, frosty day.

On Thursday, 30th December, I went to Keswick. William rode before me to the foot of the hill nearest K. There we parted close to a little watercourse, which was then noisy with water, but on my return a dry channel We stopped our horse close to the ledge, opposite a tuft of primroses, three flowers in full blossom and a bud. They reared themselves up among the green moss. We debated long whether we should pluck them, and at last left them to live out their day, which I was right glad of at my return the Sunday following; for there they remained, uninjured either by cold or wet. I stayed at Keswick over New Year's Day, and returned on Sunday, the 2nd January William was alarmed at my long delay, and came to within three miles of Keswick Coleridge stayed with us till Tuesday, January 4th. W. and I walked with him to Ambleside. We parted with him at the turning of the lane, he going on horseback to the top of Kirkstone. On Thursday 6th, C. returned, and on Friday, the 7th, he and Sara went to Keswick. W. accompanied them to the foot of Wytheburn It was a gentle


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 day, and when William and I returned home just before sunset, it was a heavenly evening. A soft sky was among the hills, and a summer sunshine above, and blending with this sky, for it was more like sky than clouds; the turf looked warm and soft.

Monday, January 10th 1803.—I lay in bed to have a drench of sleep till one o'clock. Worked all day Ominously cold.

Tuesday, January 11th.—A very cold day but the blackness of the cold made us slow to put forward, and we did not walk at all. Mary read the Prologue to Chaucer's tales to me in the morning. William was working at his poem to C. Letter from Keswick and from Taylor on William's marriage. C. poorly, in bad spirits Read part of The Knights Tale with exquisite delight. Since tea Mary has been down stairs copying out Italian poems for Stuart. William has been working beside me, and here ends this imperfect summary


text: Journals of Dorothy Wordsworth/Volume 1/Chapter 6


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126Rh "Even if Japan, as the heir of Russia's assets and liabilities in Manchuria, had been justified in her protest by the Convention of 1902 and by the Russo-British Note of 1899, she had not fulfilled her part of the bargain, namely, the Russian undertaking in the Note to abstain from seeking concession, rights and privileges in the valley of the Yangtze. Her reliance on the secret treaty carried weight with Great Britain, but with no one else, as may be gauged from the records of the State Department at Washington. A later claim advanced by Japan that her action was justified by Article VI of the Treaty of Portsmouth, which assigned to Japan all Russian rights in the Chinese Eastern Railway (South Manchurian Railway) 'with all rights and properties appertaining thereto,' was effectively answered by China's citation of Articles III and IV of the same Treaty. Under the first of these articles it is declared that 'Russia has no territorial advantages or preferential or exclusive concessions in Manchuria in impairment of Chinese sovereignty or inconsistent with the principle of equal opportunity'; whilst the second is a reciprocal engagement by Russia and Japan 'not to obstruct any general measures common to all countries which China may take for the development of the commerce and industry of Manchuria.'

"It would be interesting to know whether a refusal to allow China to build a railway on her own territory is or is not an impairment of Chinese sovereignty and whether such a railway as that proposed was not a measure for the 'development of the commerce and industry of Manchuria.'

"It is doubtful if even the Russo-Japanese war created as much feeling in China as did the Fa-ku-men incident. Japan's action was of such flagrant


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 VII

RECOLLECTIONS

A TOUR MADE IN SCOTLAND


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 CONTENTS First Week DAY 	PAGE 1. 	Left Keswick—Grisdale—Mosedale—Hesket Newmarket—Caldbeck Falls 	163 2. 	Rose Castle—Carlisle—Hatfield—Longtown 	164 3. 	Solway Moss—Enter Scotland—Springfield—Gretna Green—Annan—Dumfries 	165 4. 	Burns's Grave 	166 Ellisland—Vale of Nith 	168 Brownhill 	169 Poem to Burns's Sons 	171 5. 	Thornhill—Drumlanrigg—River Nith 	171 Turnpike house 	172 Sportsman 	173 Vale of Menock 	174 Wanlockhead 	175 Leadhills 	178 Miners 	178 Hopetoun mansion 	179 Hostess 	180 6. 	Road to Crawfordjohn 	183 Douglas Mill 	187 Clyde—Lanerk 	189 Boniton Linn 	191 Second Week DAY	PAGE 7. 	Falls of the Clyde 	193 Cartland Crags 	197 Fall of Stonebyres—Trough of the Clyde 	200 Hamilton 	201 8. 	Hamilton House 	202 Baroncleugh—Bothwell Castle 	204 Glasgow 	208 9. 	Bleaching ground (Glasgow Green) 	209 Road to Dumbarton 	211 10. 	Rock and Castle of Dumbarton 	213 Vale of Leven 	217 Smollett's Monument 	218 Loch Lomond 	218 Luss 	221 11. 	Islands of Loch Lomond 	225 Road to Tarbet 	230 The Cobbler 	231 Tarbet 	231 12. 	Left Tarbet for the Trossachs 	233 Rob Roy's Caves 	235 Inversneyde Ferryhouse and Waterfall 	235 Singular building 	236 Loch Ketterine 	238 Glengyle 	240 Mr. Macfarlane's 	241 13. 	Breakfast at Glengyle 	243 Lairds of Glengyle—Rob Roy 	244 Burying-ground 	246 Ferryman's hut 	246 Trossachs 	248 Loch Achray 	252 Return to Ferryman's hut 	253


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and I parted from Mary on Sunday afternoon, August 14th 1803; and William, Coleridge, and I left Keswick on Monday morning, the 15th, at twenty minutes after eleven o'clock. The day was very hot; we walked up the hills, and along all the rough road, which made our walking half the day's journey. Travelled under the foot of Carrock, a mountain covered with stones on the lower part; above, it is very rocky, but sheep pasture there; we saw several where there seemed to be no grass to tempt them. Passed the foot of Grisdale and Mosedale, both pastoral valleys, narrow, and soon terminating in the mountains—green, with scattered trees and houses, and each a beautiful stream. At Grisdale our horse backed upon a steep bank where the road was not fenced, just above a pretty mill at the foot of the valley; and we had a second threatening of a disaster in crossing a narrow bridge between the two dales; but this was not the fault of either man or horse. Slept at Mr. Younghusband's public-house, Hesket Newmarket. In the evening walked to Caldbeck Falls, a delicious spot in which to breathe out a summer's day—limestone rocks, hanging trees, pools, and water-breaks—caves and caldrons which have been honoured with fairy names, and no doubt continue in the fancy of the neighbourhood to resound with fairy revels.


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 Tuesday, August 16th.—Passed Rose Castle upon the Caldew, an ancient building of red stone with sloping gardens, an ivied gateway, velvet lawns, old garden walls, trim flower-borders with stately and luxuriant flowers. We walked up to the house and stood some minutes watching the swallows that flew about restlessly, and flung their shadows upon the sunbright walls of the old building; the shadows glanced and twinkled, interchanged and crossed each other, expanded and shrunk up, appeared and disappeared every instant; as I observed to William and Coleridge, seeming more like living things than the birds themselves. Dined at Carlisle; the town in a bustle with the assizes; so many strange faces known in former times and recognised, that it half seemed as if I ought to know them all, and, together with the noise, the fine ladies, etc., they put me into confusion. This day Hatfield was condemned. I stood at the door of the gaoler's house, where he was; William entered the house, and Coleridge saw him; I fell into conversation with a debtor, who told me in a dry way that he was "far over-learned," and another man observed to William that we might learn from Hatfield's fate "not to meddle with pen and ink." We gave a shilling to my companion, whom we found out to be a friend of the family, a fellow-sailor with my brother John "in Captain Wordsworth's ship." Walked upon the city walls, which are broken down in places and crumbling away, and most disgusting from filth. The city and neighbourhood of Carlisle disappointed me; the banks of the river quite flat, and, though the holms are rich, there is not much beauty in the vale from the want of trees—at least to the eye of a person coming from England, and, I scarcely know how, but to me the holms had not a natural look; there was something townish in their appearance, a dulness in their strong deep green. To Longtown—not very interesting, except from the long views over the flat country; the road rough, chiefly newly mended. Reached Longtown after


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 sunset, a town of brick houses belonging chiefly to the Graham family. Being in the form of a cross and not long, it had been better called Crosstown. There are several shops, and it is not a very small place; but I could not meet with a silver thimble, and bought a half-penny brass one. Slept at the Graham's Arms, a large inn. Here, as everywhere else, the people seemed utterly insensible of the enormity of Hatfield's offences; the ostler told William that he was quite a gentleman, paid every one genteelly, etc. etc. He and "Mary" had walked together to Gretna Green; a heavy rain came on when they were there; a returned chaise happened to pass, and the driver would have taken them up; but "Mr. Hope's" carriage was to be sent for; he did not choose to accept the chaise-driver's offer.

Wednesday, August 17th.—Left Longtown after breakfast. About half a mile from the town a guidepost and two roads, to Edinburgh and Glasgow; we took the left-hand road, to Glasgow. Here saw a specimen of the luxuriance of the heath-plant, as it grows in Scotland; it was in the enclosed plantations—perhaps sheltered by them. These plantations appeared to be not well grown for their age; the trees were stunted. Afterwards the road, treeless, over a peat-moss common—the Solway Moss; here and there an earth-built hut with its peat stack, a scanty growing willow hedge round the kail-garth, perhaps the cow pasturing near,—a little lass watching it,—the dreary waste cheered by the endless singing of larks.

We enter Scotland by crossing the river Sark; on the Scotch side of the bridge the ground is unenclosed pasturage; it was very green, and scattered over with that yellow flowered plant which we call grunsel; the hills heave and swell prettily enough; cattle feeding; a few corn fields near the river. At the top of the hill opposite is Springfield, a village built by Sir William Maxwell—a dull uniformity in the houses, as is usual when all built at one time, or belonging to one individual,


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 each just big enough for two people to live in, and in which a family, large or small as it may happen, is crammed. There the marriages are performed. Further on, though almost contiguous, is Gretna Green, upon a hill and among trees. This sounds well, but it is a dreary place; the stone houses dirty and miserable, with broken windows. There is a pleasant view from the churchyard over Solway Firth to the Cumberland mountains. Dined at Annan. On our left as we travelled along appeared the Solway Firth and the mountains beyond, but the near country dreary. Those houses by the roadside which are built of stone are comfortless and dirty; but we peeped into a clay "biggin" that was very "canny," and I daresay will be as warm as a swallow's nest in winter. The town of Annan made me think of France and Germany; many of the houses large and gloomy, the size of them outrunning the comforts. One thing which was like Germany pleased me: the shopkeepers express their calling by some device or painting; bread-bakers have biscuits, loaves, cakes, painted on their window-shutters; blacksmiths horses' shoes, iron tools, etc. etc.; and so on through all trades.

Reached Dumfries at about nine o'clock—market-day; met crowds of people on the road, and every one had a smile for us and our car The inn was a large house, and tolerably comfortable; Mr. Rogers and his sister, whom we had seen at our own cottage at Grasmere a few days before, had arrived there that same afternoon on their way to the Highlands; but we did not see them till the next morning, and only for about a quarter of an hour.

Thursday, August 18th.—Went to the churchyard where Burns is buried. A bookseller accompanied us. He showed us the outside of Burns's house, where he had lived the last three years of his life, and where he died. It has a mean appearance, and is in a bye situation, whitewashed; dirty about the doors, as


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 With his so-called folly Vena provoked much merriment, and by what he said in earnest he raised the merriment a degree higher; it is often the fate of truth that we receive it with laughter.

And thus so many mouths were fed on and off the estate that if Loyka, the peasant proprietor, had shewn all these guests the door, he might have given three shares of the produce as a pension to his father and still have had enough for himself. But, of course, such an idea had never even occurred to any one; thus it had ever been on Loyka’s farm so long as he could remember; it had been thus all through the life-time of his grandfather and even earlier. And yet we have heard that Loyka, the peasant, went to law about every quarter of wheat with his own father. What congruity was there in all this?

All whom we have mentioned: the tinkers, the family of the kalounkar, the cloth-pedlar, the sieve-maker, the knife-grinder, the fiddlers, and the harpers, assembled at the Loykas’s when Frank’s grandfather died, and they were there when Frank led Staza to the farmstead. They assembled at his grandfather’s death as if they had been summoned.

The fiddlers and the harpers considered it their duty to present themselves to see whether their services would be required. It was the custom in our districts to go by easy stages from the burial to music, from music to lively music, from lively music to a downright banquet, and from a banquet to a debauch. Just as if at the funeral they had been sad against their will, and required a lively banquet quickly to counterpoise their weight of woe. They took good care to keep sorrow at arm’s length, and must need have something to divert them from it. Or perhaps genuine sorrow is so rare and portentous a thing that it is necessary to give it a fillip with a flourish of light music whensoever it reveals itself. Or perhaps true sorrow is a superfluous thing, if we needs must lay our dead in the grave with sighs and tears through which all the time we catch the sound of instruments which are tuning for a dance. Or perhaps our sorrow is but as a game of play from which we shake ourselves free in a moment, and which with a dance is ended. But at any rate such is the fact: after a funeral there must be music, and music of a light and cheerful sort.

So then the musicians came confident of employment, and the Loykas conscientiously and sedulously completed all their preparations.


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 Before the funeral procession issued forth from the door, Loyka’s wife had already arranged her kitchen; fat beasts slaughtered the day before were already in chops and quarters on the truncheons or were frying on the hobs. Then Loyka’s wife followed the corpse, in order to cry her prescribed modicum of tears to cry a good bottleful, and it was just as necessary and just as much belonged to her sphere as the sauces and the Sauerkraut.

After the funeral, then Loyka’s house wore all the appearance of a festival. The guests who were staying in the house and those who were invited for the day sat down to a richly furnished table, which in the form of a horseshoe occupied the whole of the principal apartment; the musicians seated themselves in the hall by the pantry, and after a few moments everything was as merry as at a wedding.

It was a custom in the Loykas’s family for the males to marry late in life. Thus our defunct centenarian had not married until wellnigh his fortieth year: Loyka, the peasant proprietor, not until after his thirtieth year, consequently he was now sixty and his wife fifty. Joseph, his eldest son, was now about four-and-twenty—we know the age of Frank. Loyka, the peasant, in contra-distinction to the vejminkar [pensioner] was called young Loyka. But after the death of the hundred-year-old grandfather, Loyka, the peasant, became all at once old Loyka, and his son Joseph was promoted to the dignity of young Loyka.

Joseph seemed fully alive to the importance of the day. He did not seat himself at the table, but with watchful eyes superintended and arranged the dishes and liquors as they issued from the kitchen and the cellar, and in the dining-room he attended to the wants of all.

This did not escape the observation of those present, and as soon as conversation became general some of the neighbours turned to Loyka, and remarked, “Your son makes an excellent hospodar.”

“Ay, ay, and doubtless his kind father will not leave him long to wait and why should you grudge yourself repose when you have so stout and goodly a successor.”

Loyka, the peasant proprietor, smiled self-consciously to himself at these words, as though he meant to say by that smile:—“Just wait a little, and you will soon hear what I have determined in my mind.”


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 Then when Joseph came into the apartment looking like a bouquet, and threw a glance around him like a recognized commander, the neighbours again said:—

“So Joseph, my lad, you have but to look out for a sweetheart somewhere, your father yonder says he should like to have a daughter in his house, the sooner the better, and his wife agrees with him.”

“You are rather late with your counsels,” suggested another, “he hath pretty well selected already.” And at this the speaker winked at Barushka, who sat near the middle of the table and who, when these words were uttered, bowed her head over her plate that people might not see her face.

“Prithee, who’ll have me”, inquired Joseph airily, and at these words Barushka again raised her head from her plate; Joseph went out of the room.

After this some of the neighbours said almost in a breath, “Oh! Barushka, pray, what makes you so hot?”

“I am not hot”, said Barushka, and looked about her with determination into which she had partially nudged herself in order that, if possible, she might still conceal what had now no further need of concealment.

After this a burst of music was heard from the hall, and in the dining-room all laughed at what they had said, and continued to say more like it.

When the music was over in the hall, Loyka, the peasant proprietor, rose and posted himself with some solemnity by the table. He wished to address the assemblage. Just before he spoke he looked at his wife, and when she nodded assent, he cleared his throat and thus began:—

“Dear neighbours and neighbours’ wives! As to us old folk,” and here he pointed to himself, his wife, and his neighbour Kmoch, the father of Barushka, “we have quite come to an agreement. And so if Barushka has nothing to say against it, we will settle the day of the wedding, and you are all invited to it.”

Here Loyka lapsed into silence: he looked all over the assemblage to see what sort of effect his words had produced. They had produced an effect.

“I could have told you so just this minute.”

“Yes, God grant them happiness, they will make a nice couple.”

“Barushka is at ease now, she is not hot any longer.”


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 “And where is Joseph?”

“Oh! not far off, I warrant. Perhaps he is listening somewhere.”

One of the neighbours rose in order that he might fetch Joseph; the others made a place beside Barushka, and when Joseph entered the apartment, he was greeted with a hearty volley of congratulations, and the neighbours who led him in pointed to the vacant place beside Barushka, and said, “There, that is your place.”

“We were surprised”, said the neighbours’ wives. “Hitherto we never had the least suspicion”, but they had had a pretty shrewd suspicion all the same, because they had already several times talked the whole matter over at home, on the way to and from chapel, on the road to and from market, on the village green and behind the barn.

Joseph seated himself beside Barushka, and when silence again prevailed, he said, “Oh! Barushka, prithee, why not? Since our parents wish us to wed why should we not be man and wife”, and after this he imprinted a smacking kiss on her lips, so audible, indeed, was it that every one yielded to an equally audible fit of laughter.

“And people say there was no understanding between them.”

“The deuce! they understood one another perfectly well. Such a smacking kiss is not given for the first time.” Glasses were now raised and were emptied to the health of the young couple.

When after this they again sat down, Loyka, the peasant, still remained standing; not having yet said everything he wished to say, he prepared himself for a further continuation of his speech in a solemn manner. As if at a secret signal a flourish of music resounded from the inner hall, and then there was complete silence throughout the apartment.

And Loyka, the peasant proprietor, began again. “And, verily, on the following terms: The farmstead will be adjudged to you young people, and I with my wife, look you here, will still be hospodar for six years in it. But again, if that is to say we grow tired of managing the estate as hospodari, we shall leave you the entire management, and you will give us for the term of those six years a quarter of all the produce of the farm. Only after the six years, shall we reserve to ourselves the pensioner’s [vejminkar’s] portion, but there is time enough to think about that.”


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 Now a pause occurred, and Loyka waited for a reply. But no reply came; Joseph did not stir, Barushka looked at her father, then at Joseph, and the rest of the company looked at one another. Loyka again took up the thread of his discourse. “If you are not contented with the conditions I have proposed, good. I and my wife, look you here, have the right to manage the estate for six more years, and only when those years are over need we discuss the question of your marriage. If, then, we are willing to grant the farm and house to you young people now at once, reserving to ourselves the management for the six years, we do this for the sake of you young people, because we know how you love one another, and that you are already all in all to one another.”

Now Joseph rose to reply, and the answer was at the tip of his tongue. “What you settle, dear parent, must be held binding. How, then, could we venture to prescribe to you how long you are to be hospodar? Be hospodar as long as you like. Grant that the farm be adjudged to us, permit us to espouse one another, and all the rest will arrange itself in the fear of God.”

Then Barushka rose, went to Loyka’s wife, embraced her round the neck, kissed her hand, and said, “Pani mamma, if you should wish to manage the household until the day of your death, I will bear you on my arm, and will love you above everything. Only let me be Joseph’s wife and your daughter. I desire nothing more.”

These words tripped quite glibly from Barushka’s tongue, and no doubt came from her heart, and yet she spoke them with a kind of forced energy as though she was anxious that they should not miss their mark. Loyka’s aged wife pressed her to her own bosom and embraced her. Loyka wiped away his tears, and at the same instant the neighbours wiped both their eyes and noses, because in all public assemblages tears take this direct route to the ground.

“Oh! what a daughter that is,” said the neighbours’ wives to her father Kmoch, “how well she expresses herself, too; you must love her, indeed, you must. And how proud you must be to have such a daughter.”

“How could I fail to feel delight in her”, said Kmoch. “She takes after me: that is just as I should have spoken.”

Then Barushka also stepped up to Loyka, kissed his hand, and repeated in somewhat different words all that she had said a moment before to her future mother-in-law. Here again during


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 these reciprocal endearments you might hear tears falling, only that this time they were still more audible, because just then a braying of instruments resounded from the inner hall whereby the solemnity of the moment gained a sort of official confirmation.

“Dear children,” said Loyka, “so long as we manage the estate, we shall also dwell here in the principal house, and you will be banished for the time to the pensioner’s [vejminkar’s] house, where dwelt your grandfather. When we cease to manage the estate we shall ourselves go into the pensioner’s house, and you will shift hither into the principal building.”

Barushka said, “Dear parent, say no more about it at present; what you settle, that same must be; and were you to settle that we should take up our abode for the six years even in the two chambers where lodge your humbler guests, I would still bear you on my arms.”

At these Barushkine periods Joseph only smiled and nodded as if to testify that he agreed with every thing that Barushka had said.

There are people who give way to genuine weeping as soon as they hear anything repeated in a solemn manner, even though the words repeated be wholly destitute of meaning to them. We hear parents weep to whom their children repeat the polite platitudes their instructor has taught them, and which are quite unintelligible both to the parents and to the children. We hear strangers and members of a family weep at a wedding as soon as a withered old parson begins to patter from a book divers reflections and pious admonitions; we hear strangers, too, weep at a funeral as soon as the priest begins to recite Latin words which nowadays certainly no one comprehends. And so how could all these good folk who were present have failed now to give way to audible weeping at the announcement of Loyka so solemnly pronounced, sanctioned by strains of music, further affirmed by the protestations of Barushka, reiterated with energy intelligently and eloquently expressed.

So infectious was the sobbing and gulping which occurred in the apartment, that there was not a single eye which remained undimmed with tears. Both Loyka and Loyka’s wife wept, only two people remained proof against this infection, and these were Joseph and Barushka herself. When what we have here described was all over, Loyka, the peasant proprietor, sat himself down by himself, and then looked greatly exhausted. Just as though he had toiled much and must


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 rest himself awhile. He held the table with both his hands; his head sunk on his breast; his eyes stared vacantly at his hands; his breast heaved stertorously. In this posture he remained for a considerable space of time without change and, save his stertorous breathing, was like a statue.

From his strange reverie he was rudely disturbed by Joseph, who bade clear away the table, because the guests wished to have a dance. And so they were to disengage the table from Loyka’s hands as best they might, and after this Loyka rose from his seat and roused himself from these his thoughts.

In the inner hall resounded from harps and violins the merry music of the dance, and in a brief space of time, all who had any pretensions to youthfulness were spinning in the waltz. Even old Loyka took a turn, because Barushka came especially to him and requested the honour of a dance. And then all the rest of the company stepped out from the circle and allowed Loyka and Barushka to perform a solo, clapped with their hands, snapped their fingers, and laughed when they saw how frisky and active old Loyka was, and how he in no respect fell short of any of the young men there present.

And here old Loyka himself wistled like a young man, as if he were celebrating his own wedding, until all who were present were struck with astonishment, who although they laughed with pleasure at the sight of his youthfulness, still thought in their heart of hearts that it was not quite in keeping with Loyka’s age and character.

After a while the rest of the company were again in the circle, this time Joseph also who had received Barushka from the hands of his father, and now all tootled and whistled, young and old.

Who would have said, if he had entered at this moment, that these people were at a funeral in the forenoon, and were now continuing the funeral solemnities?

And yet there were two small souls who kept it still in mind—Frank and Staza, who, from the inner hall among the musicians, looked at all that was passing in the dining-room.

And so, during an interval, while there was a pause in the dance and only the sound of whistling was to be heard in the dining-room, a kind of consultation here took place between Frank and the musicians, and before any one expected what was toward, Frank and Staza struck up with the hymn “Odpocinte v pokoji verne dusicky” [“Rest in peace ye faithful spirits”]. Rh


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last of the heroes left in Ireland was Ossian, the greatest of the warriors who were also bards. He was a son of Finn, but lived on into Patrick's time and would sit talking to the saint and even listening to him. The saint had sprinkled holy water on the hero, yet for a little while he was not sure that he ought to be talking to such a one except about Christianity, of which Ossian was too old to know anything. But two angels answered his doubts. They told him that he should write down the words of Ossian, especially his tales of the times of old, because they would give gladness to after times.

Ossian was now as gentle as any Christian. He could not ride, or run, or sing clear, but most of his time sat leaning forward on his spear, like some old apple-tree that has lost all but one of its branches and has long borne no fruit save pearls of mistletoe. He belonged to a race whose deeds and stature and way of life seemed more fitting to the earth than Christian men's, more in harmony with mountains, forests, stormy seas, and heavens. He would listen to tales of religion, but it was impossible to make him a Christian; he was altogether too old and gigantic, and his memory was too full. When Patrick or some duller priest tried to stir him by saying that Finn and his brothers and companions were not in Heaven, he replied: 'If they be not there, what should I do there? Why should I go there?' He was never tired of describing the godlike Finn.


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 When a priest told him that not even a midge could slip into Heaven without God's knowledge, he recalled the generosity and hospitality of Finn. If the leaves of autumn were gold, he said, and the sea waves silver, Finn would have given all away. Thousands of men could enter his hall, feast at his board, and leave without being questioned. The heroes, he said, used to speak truth and keep their promise as well as any priest. Patrick stood looking at him, his head not much above the end of the bloodstains on Ossian's spear. He would have been willing that all men should be giants if they had been as noble as the sons of Finn. He knew little men who were far more monstrous.

Whatever a priest said, Ossian was too old and mild to be often sad, except when the wind was from the east. Then the long and cold nights wearied him, and he remembered the chase and the warfare with the long-haired sons of Finn. He knew then that he could no longer hunt, or fight, or play, or swim in the torrents, that he was a poor old man without strength or music. He was left alone on the earth, and would have been glad to be with Finn his father and Oscar his son, wherever they were. It still irked him that he had not been there to aid his father in the battle when every inch of the great Finn was stretched cold and still beside the Boyne. Nor did he share the last battle of the Fena, when Oscar slew Cairbre and died himself, and only the swift-footed one of the tribe escaped. It was his own fault that Ossian had missed these battles. Strange it was that such an adventure of youth should have been the means of drawing out his life to so great an age! He told Patrick the tale.

On a misty spring morning Finn and the Fena, and Ossian among them, were hunting among the Lakes of


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127Rh dishonesty and such a cynical repudiation of her promises and pledges that her credit received a blow from which it has never since recovered. The abject failure of the British Government to support its subjects' treaty rights was almost as much an eye-opener to the world as the protest from Tokio.…

"The methods which had proved so successful in stopping the Fa-ku-men railway were equally successful in forcing the abandonment of other projected railways. Among these were the Chin-chou-Aigun line and the important Antung-Mukden line. The same alleged secret protocol was used equally brutally and successfully for the acquisition of the Newchwang line, and participation in 1909, and eventual acquisition in 1914, of the Chan-Chun-Kirin lines. Subsequently by an agreement with Russia the sixth article of the Russo-Chinese Agreement of 1896 was construed to mean 'the absolute and exclusive rights of administration within the railway zone.'"

Japan's spheres of influence have been subsequently extended to cover the whole of Manchuria and the whole of Shantung—though the latter has been nominally renounced at Washington. By such methods as the above, or by loans to impecunious Chinese authorities, the Japanese have acquired vast railway monopolies wherever their influence has penetrated, and have used the railways as a means of acquiring all real power in the provinces through which they run.

After the Russo-Japanese war, Russia and Japan became firm friends, and agreed to bring pressure on China jointly in any matter affecting Manchuria. Their friendship lasted until the Bolshevik revolution. Russia had entered into extensive obligations to


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128Rh support Japan's claims at the Peace Conference, which of course the Bolsheviks repudiated. Hence the implacable hostility of Japan to Soviet Russia, leading to the support of innumerable White filibusters in the territory of the Far Eastern Republic, and to friendship with France in all international questions.

As soon as there began to be in China a revolutionary party aiming at the overthrow of the Manchus, the Japanese supported it. They have continuously supported either or both sides in Chinese dissensions, as they judged most useful for prolonging civil war and weakening China politically. Before the revolution of 1911, Sun Yat Sen was several times in Japan, and there is evidence that as early as 1900 he was obtaining financial support from some Japanese. When the revolution actually broke out, Japan endeavoured to support the Manchus, but was prevented from doing so effectively by the other Legations. It seems that the policy of Japan at that time, as later, was to prevent the union of North and South, and to confine the revolution to the South. Moreover, reverence for monarchy made Japan unwilling to see the Emperor of China dispossessed and his whole country turned into a Republic, though it would have been agreeable to see him weakened by the loss of some southern provinces. Mr. Pooley gives a good account of the actions of Japan during the Chinese Revolution, of which the following quotation gives the gist :—

It [the Genro] commenced with a statement from Prince Katsura on December 18th [1911], that the time for intervention had arrived, with the usual rider "for the sake of the peace of the Far East." This was followed by a private instruction to M. Ijuin, Japanese Minister in Peking, where-


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129Rh under the latter on December 23rd categorically informed Yuan-shi-kai that under no circumstances would Japan recognize a republican form of government in China.…In connection with the peace conference held at Shanghai, Mr. Matsui (now Japanese Ambassador to France), a trusted Councillor of the Foreign Office, was dispatched to Peking to back M. Ijuin in the negotiations to uphold the dynasty. Simultaneously, Mr. Denison, Legal Adviser to the Japanese Foreign Office, was sent to Shanghai to negotiate with the rebel leaders. Mr. Matsui's mission was to bargain for Japanese support of the Manchus against the rebels, Manchuria against the throne; Mr. Denison's mission was to bargain for Japanese support of the rebels against the throne, recognition by Peking of the Southern Republic against virtually a Japanese protectorate of that Republic and exclusive railway and mining concessions within its borders. The rebels absolutely refused Mr. Denison's offer, and sent the proposed terms to the Russian Minister at Peking, through whom they eventually saw the light of day. Needless to say the Japanese authorities strenuously denied their authenticity.

The British Legation, however, supported Yuan Shi-k'ai, against both the Manchus and Sun Yat Sen; and it was the British policy which won the day. Yuan Shi-k'ai became President, and remained so until 1915. He was strongly anti-Japanese, and had, on that ground, been opposed as strongly as Japan dared. His success was therefore a blow to the influence of Japan in China. If the Western Powers had remained free to make themselves felt in the Far East, the course of events would doubtless have been much less favourable to the Japanese; but the war came, and the Japanese saw their chance. How they used it must be told in a separate chapter.


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 Killarney. They were in full chase when they were suddenly aware of a single rider galloping on a white horse towards them. The stag and the hounds ran on, but all men stopped to see the beautiful woman riding out of the West. She reined in the horse a little way from the motionless hunters. Her eyes had the blue of the dewdrop reflecting a cloudless sky; her cheeks were crimsoned white like snow at dawn; her curled golden hair concealed the diadem and rings of gold which were meant to adorn it. She wore a mantle of brown precious silk, golden-starred and clasped with a brooch of gold, flowing down over the red-golden saddle and the white horsecloth to the gold hooves and the green grass. She was slender and her white hand small, yet she rode the galloper with more grace than the swans rode the water. 'I have ridden,' she said, 'from a far country.'

Finn asked her name and country, and she said she was Niav of the Golden Hair, daughter of the King of Tirnanoge, beyond the west sea. She had come because she could love no other man but the high-spirited and famous Ossian, son of Finn. When Ossian heard her pronounce his name he loved her. As she governed the great horse with her little hand, so she governed him from that time with a sweet voice that sounded strangely among the company of hunters. Whatever her voice said he was bound to love Niav, but presently she began to utter things that might have made the voice of the jay seem sweet. For when Ossian had spoken his love and given her a true gentle welcome to his country, she said:

'Thou must come with me on my horse to Tirnanoge, the Land of Youth. It is the loveliest and most famous country under the sun. Leaf, blossom and fruit cover the trees at one time and for ever. Gold, silver and


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Author:Harford Powel

Works

 * What About Advertising? (1928), with Kenneth M. Goode

title: Author:Harford Powel


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 "I, sir! how dare you—"

"Yes, Madame Duflos, you have had lovers; you have really had them. Do you remember a certain night at Versailles?"

At these words, she looked at me attentively for a moment; the colour came to her cheek.

"Eugene!" she cried, and instantly hastened from the room.

Madame Duflos was a milliner whose clerk I had been for some time when, to hide from the search of the police at Arras, I had concealed myself in Paris. She was a droll sort of woman; she had a fine head, bold eye, good eyebrow, majestic forehead; her mouth, elevated at the corners, was large, but adorned with thirty-two teeth of dazzling whiteness; hair of a beautiful black, and aquiline nose, above a tolerably well-furnished moustache, gave to her physiognomy an air which would have been imposing, if her bosom placed between two humps, and her neck plunged into these double shoulders had not suggested the idea of a female Punch.

She was about forty when I first saw her: her appearance was most studiously attended to, and she gave herself the airs of a queen; but from the height of the chair whereon she was perched, so that her knees were elevated above the counter, she seemed less like a Semiramis than the grotesque idol of some Indian pagoda. When I saw her on this species of throne, I had much difficulty to be serious; but I preserved the gravity which circumstances demanded, and had just sufficient command over myself to convert into salutations of the most respectful kind a strong disposition to do entirely otherwise. Madame Duflos took from her bosom a large eye-glass, through which she viewed me, and when she had taken my dimensions from head to foot,

"What is your pleasure, sir?" she said.

I was about to reply, but a clerk who had undertaken to present me, having told her that I was the young man of whom he had spoken, she looked at me again,


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 all that delights the eyes, abound there. It flows with wine and honey. Thou shalt have there a hundred swiftest steeds, a hundred perfect hounds. Thou shalt have a coat of impenetrable mail and a sword that cannot be resisted or escaped. Thou shalt have jewels not of this world. Thy herds shall be without number. Thy flocks shall have golden fleeces. Each day shall be one of feasting and harp-playing. A hundred warriors in full armour and a hundred harpers with sweetest music shall be at thy call. Thou shalt wear the diadem of the king of Tirnanoge, which no other but he ever wore, and it shall preserve thee from all perils of day and night. Thou shalt have beauty and strength everlastingly. Decline shall never come to thee, and thou shalt not know decay or death, and I shall be thy wife in Tirnanoge.'

Finn and the Fena burst out into lamentation when they saw Ossian turning towards that maiden and towards the West. Finn took his hand and said:

'Alas, my son, thou art going away, and I fear thou wilt not return.'

Though Ossian said: 'After a little I will come back to see thee,' his father did not stop weeping as they embraced, nor yet when he mounted the white horse behind Niav. They galloped away westward, smoothly and swiftly to the sea-shore. They spoke not a word, because Niav had said, 'Let us be silent until we reach the sea.' The only sound was the mourning of Finn and the Fena.

Shaking himself and neighing three times as he touched the water, the horse raced forward as if the waves had been grass. He was swifter than a March wind on the mountain-tops. Now on this hand and now on that the riders saw strange coasts of islands


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 If the test of poetry were the power of expressing a theory more closely and pointedly than prose, such writing would take a very high place. Some popular philosophers would make a sounding chapter out of those sixteen lines. The Essay on Man brought Pope into difficulties. The central thesis, "whatever is is right," might be understood in various senses, and in some sense it would be accepted by every theist. But, in Bolingbroke's teaching, it received a heterodox application, and in Pope's imperfect version of Bolingbroke the taint was not removed. The logical outcome of the rationalistic theory of the time was some form of pantheism, and the tendency is still more marked in a poetical statement, where it was difficult to state the refined distinctions by which the conclusion is averted. When theology is regarded as demonstrable by reason, the need of a revelation ceases to be obvious. The optimistic view which sees the proof of divine order in the vast harmony of the whole visible world, throws into the background the darker side of the universe reflected in the theological doctrines of human corruption, and the consequent need of a future judgment in separation of good from evil. I need not inquire whether any optimistic theory is really tenable; but the popular version of the creed involved the attempt to ignore the evils under which all creation groans, and produced in different minds the powerful retort of Butler's Analogy, and the biting sarcasm of Voltaire's Candide. Pope, accepting the doctrine without any perception of these difficulties, unintentionally fell into sheer pantheism. He was not yielding to the logical instinct which carries out a theory to its legitimate development; but obeying the imaginative impulse which cannot stop to listen to the usual qualifications and safe-

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 guards of the orthodox reasoner. The best passages in the essay are those in which he is frankly pantheistic, and is swept, like Shaftesbury, into enthusiastic assertion of the universal harmony of things.

In spite of some awkward phrases (hair and heart is a vile antithesis!), the passage is eloquent but can hardly be called orthodox. And it was still worse when Pope undertook to show that even evil passions and vices were part of the harmony; that "a Borgia and a Cataline" were as much a part of the divine order as a plague or an earthquake, and that self-love and lust were essential to social welfare.

Pope's own religious position is characteristic and easily definable. If it is not quite defensible on the strictest principles of plain speaking, it is also certain that we could not condemn him without condemning many of the best and most catholic-spirited of men. The dogmatic system in which he had presumably been educated had oftened under the influence of the cultivated thought of the day. Pope, as the member of a persecuted sect, had learnt to share that righteous hatred of bigotry which is the honourable characteristic of his best contemporaries.

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 and asked me what I knew of business. Of business I was utterly ignorant; I was silent; she repeated the question, and as she evinced some impatience, I was forced to explain.

"Madame," I said, "I know nothing of the business of fashions, but with zeal and perseverance, I hope to give you satisfaction, particularly if assisted by your advice."

"Well, I like that; I wish people to be frank with me. I receive you; you shall fill Theodore's situation."

"I am at your orders as soon as you please, madame."

"Well then, I engage you at once; from this very day, you may begin on trial."

My installation was at once effected. In my situation as junior clerk, I had the task of arranging the magazine and work room, where about twenty young girls, all very pretty, were employed in fashioning gewgaws, destined to tempt the provincial coquettes. Thrown amongst this bed of beauties, I thought myself transported to a seraglio, and, looking sometimes at the brown and sometimes at the fair, I thought of circulating the handkerchief pretty freely when, on the morning of the fourth day, Madame Duflos, who had no doubt seen something not quite to her satisfaction, sent for me to her room.

"M. Eugene," she said, "I am much displeased with you; you have been here but a very short time, and already begin to form criminal designs upon my young people. I tell you that will not do for me at all, at all, at all."

Overwhelmed by this merited reproach and unable to imagine how she had guessed my intentions, I could only stammer out a few unconnected words.

"You would have considerable difficulty in justifying yourself," she added, "but I know very well that at your age we cannot repress our inclinations: but these girls must not be thought of in any way; in the first place, they are too young; then, again, they have no


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 were all running about the floor. The woman seemed scared at me when I entered the house. I inquired if I could get a little dinner, and my horse fed. She said, yes, if I would only be good enough to feed him myself, as her 'gal,' as she called her daughter, would be afraid of the horse. When I returned into the house again from the stable, she kept her eyes upon me all the time. At last she said, 'I s'pose you aint never bin in these parts afore?' 'No,' said I. 'Is you gwine to stay here long?' 'Not very long,' I replied. 'On business, I s'pose.' 'Yes,' said I, 'I am hunting up the lost sheep of the house of Israel.' 'Oh,' exclaimed she, 'hunting for lost sheep is you? Well, you have a hard time to find 'em here. My husband lost an old ram last week, and he aint found him yet, and he's hunted every day.' 'I am not looking for four-legged sheep,' said I, 'I am hunting for sinners.' 'Ah;' she said, 'then you are a preacher.' 'Yes,' said I. 'You are the first of that sort that's bin in these diggins for many a day.' Turning to her eldest daughter, she said in an excited tone, 'Clar out the pigs and ducks, and sweep up the floor; this is a preacher.' And it was some time before any of the children would come near me; one remained under the bed (which, by the by, was in the same room), all the while I was there. 'Well,' continued the woman, 'I was a tellin' my man only yesterday that I would like once more to go to meetin' before I died, and he said as he should like to do the same. But as you have come, it will save us the trouble of going out of the district.'" "Then you found some of the lost sheep," said Carlton. "Yes," replied Snyder, "I did not find anything else up there. The state makes no provision for educating the poor; they are unable .to do it themselves, and they grow up in a state of ignorance and degradation. The men hunt and the women have to go in the

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 and continents, with cities and white palaces and strong places shining on the green land above the water. They were far out beyond the course of ships, but once a hornless fawn tripped beside them, running before a white hound with red ears; and they saw a lovely maiden, on a brown steed, carrying a golden apple, and following her a young warrior on a white steed, clad in a mantle of crimson satin, and bearing a golden-hilted sword. Ossian asked who were the riders.

'There is nothing in these things,' said Niav, 'they are nothing compared with the marvels of Tirnanoge.'

They rode on until they saw in the farthest distance a sunny palace above the waves, and Ossian asked whose palace it was and who was the prince.

'It is the Land of Virtues,' said Niav, 'ruled over by the giant Fomor. His queen is the daughter of the King of the Land of Life. He carried her away by force and keeps her by force in the palace, where she waits for a champion to fight the giant. No man has been found of great enough courage.'

'I,' said Ossian, 'will be her champion and rescue the Queen.'

The beautiful young queen welcomed them and gave them chairs of gold, choice food, golden goblets of wine and mead; and Ossian promised to be her champion, to kill the giant or to be killed in the attempt. The giant approached, ugly and huge, bearing a great bar of iron for a club, and without bowing or saluting, offered to fight Ossian. For three days they fought; and Niav and the Queen stood by weeping. At last Ossian struck down the giant, and as he lay smote off his head. For a minute there seemed two giants instead of one, the gnarled head rolling its eyes and thrusting its tongue between its fangs, and the mountainous heav-


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 fields and labour." "What is the cause of it?" inin [sic]quired Carlton; "Slavery," answered Snyder, "slavery,—and nothing else. Look at the city of Boston; it pays more taxes for the support of the government than this entire state. The people of Boston do more business than the whole population of Mississippi put together. I was told some very amusing things while at Sand Hill. A farmer there told me a story about an old woman, who was very pious herself. She had a husband and three sons, who were sad characters, and she had often prayed for their conversion but to no effect. At last, one day while working in the corn-field, one of her sons was bitten by a rattlesnake. He had scarce reached home before he felt the poison, and in his agony called loudly on his Maker.

"The pious old woman, when she heard this, forgetful of her son's misery, and everything else but the glorious hope of his repentance, fell on her knees, and prayed as follows,—'Oh! Lord, I thank thee, that thou hast at last opened Jimmy's eyes to the error of his ways; and I pray that, in thy Divine mercy, thou wilt send a rattlesnake to bite the old man, and another to bite Tom, and another to bite Harry, for I am certain that nothing but a rattlesnake, or something of the kind, will ever turn them from their sinful ways, they are so hard-headed.' When returning home, and before I got out of the Sand Hill district, I saw a funeral, and thought I would fasten my horse to a post and attend. The coffin was carried in a common, horse cart, and followed by fifteen or twenty persons very shabbily dressed, and attended by a man whom I took to be the religious man of the place. After the coffin had been placed near the grave, he spoke as follows,—

'Friends and neighbours! yon have congregated to see this lump of mortality put into a hole in the ground. You

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 He considered the persecuting spirit of his own church to be its worst fault. In the early Essay on Criticism he offended some of his own sect by a vigorous denunciation of the doctrine which promotes persecution by limiting salvation to a particular creed. His charitable conviction that a divine element is to be found in all creeds, from that of the "poor Indian" upwards, animates the highest passages in his works. But though he sympathizes with a generous toleration, and the specific dogmas of his creed sat very loosely on his mind, he did not consider that an open secession was necessary or even honourable. He called himself a true Catholic, though rather as respectfully sympathizing with the spirit of Fénelon than as holding to any dogmatic system. The most dignified letter that he ever wrote was in answer to a suggestion from Atterbury (1717), that he might change his religion upon the death of his father. Pope replies that his worldly interests would be promoted by such a step; and, in fact, it cannot be doubted that Pope might have had a share in the good things then obtainable by successful writers, if he had qualified by taking the oaths. But he adds, that such a change would hurt his mother's feelings, and that he was more certain of his duty to promote her happiness than of any speculative tenet whatever. He was sure that he could mean as well in the religion he now professed as in any other; and that being so, he thought that a change even to an equally good religion could not be justified. A similar statement appears in a letter to Swift, in 1729. "I am of the religion of Erasmus, a Catholic. So I live, so shall I die, and hope one day to meet you, Bishop Atterbury, the younger Craggs, Dr. Garth, Dean Berkeley, and Mr. Hutchison in that

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 ing body. Niav and the Queen raised a cry of joy at the sight. They led Ossian into the palace and washed and healed his wounds, and when he was restored he covered up the hideousness of Fomor under a cairn.

'It was a lovely land,' said Ossian to Patrick, 'and if Heaven hath equal glories I should praise your God.'

Nevertheless the lovers parted from the Queen, who was as sorry for their going as she was glad of her release. They rode on towards Tirnanoge. Once more their course was over the sea. They saw the hound following the fawn, and the young warrior after the maiden carrying the golden apple. A storm arose, but not foam above or waves beneath troubled their course. In the brightness of lightning and in the after blackness they rode on happily and as quiet as the fish at the bottom of the deep. When the sun conquered they saw before them a land of flowers and long lawns, lakes and rivers shining, with chains of cataracts and high blue hills. Between the strand of gold and the hills rose a palace adorned with carving and overlaid with gold and many-coloured stones, and Niav said:

'This is Tirnanoge.'

A company of warriors came down from the Palace to meet them. After them followed the King of Tirnanoge in a crown of diamonds and gold and a garment of bright gold, and with him the queen and her maidens, and a host glittering with arms and armour and sounding with the music of harps, and in the intervals the blowing of trumpets. The king took Ossian's hand and welcomed him before the host and led him into the palace. There they feasted for ten days and celebrated the marriage of Ossian and Niav.

Tirnanoge was as beautiful and happy as Niav had said. Her words, indeed, even with the accompaniment


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 fortune; a young man should have some person who can assist him, some person of sense and reason."

During this moral lesson, Madame Duflos, carelessly extended on an easy couch, rolled about her eyes in a way that would infallibly have led to an overpowering burst of laughter from me, had not her head-woman entered very opportunely to tell her that she was wanted in the work-room.

Thus terminated this interview, which proved to me the necessity of being on my guard. Without renouncing my intentions, I only appeared to look on the young women with indifference and was skilful enough to set her penetration at default; she watched me incessantly, spied my gestures, my words, my looks: but she was only astonished at one thing,—the rapidity of my progress. I had only passed one month's apprenticeship and could already sell a shawl, a fancy gown, a cap, or a bonnet, as well as the most experienced hand. Madame was delighted, and had even the kindness to say, that, if I continued as attentive to her lessons, she did not despair of making me the cock of the mode, (le coq de la nouveauté).

"But," she added, "mind, no familiarity with the pullets; you understand me, M. Eugene; you understand me. And I have also another thing to recommend to you, that is, not to neglect your personal appearance; nothing is so genteel as a well-dressed man. Besides, I will undertake to provide your dress for the present; let me do so, and you will see if I will not make a little Love of you."

I thanked Madame Duflos, but as I feared that with her extraordinary taste she might make of me some such a Cupid as she was herself a Venus, I told her that I wished to spare her the care of a metamorphosis that appeared to me impossible; but, that if she would confine herself to her kind advice, I should receive it with gratitude and seek to profit by it.

Some time afterward, (four days before Saint Louis,) Madame Duflos told me, that intending as usual to go


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 all know the deceased—a worthless, drunken, good-for-no thing vagabond. He lived in disgrace and infamy, and died in wretchedness. You all despised him—you all know his brother Joe, who lives on the hill? He's not a bit better though he has scrap'd together a little property by cheating his neighbours. His end will be like that of this loathsome creature, whom you will please put into the hole as soon as possible. I wont ask you to drop a tear, but brother Bohow will please raise a hymn while we fill up the grave.'"

"I am rather surprised to hear that any portion of the whites in this state are in so low a condition."

"Yet it is true," returned Snyder.

"These are very onpleasant facts to be related to ye, Mr. Carlton," said Huckelby; "but I can bear witness to what Mr. Snyder has told ye." Huckelby was from Maryland, where many of the poor whites are in as sad a condition as the Sand Hillers of Mississippi. He was a tall man, of iron constitution, and could neither read nor write, but was considered one of the best overseers in the country. When about to break a slave in, to do a heavy task, he would make him work by his side all day; and if the new hand kept up with him, he was set down as an able bodied man. Huckelby had neither moral, religious, or political principles, and often boasted that conscience was a matter that never "cost" him a thought. "Mr. Snyder aint told ye half about the folks in these parts;" continued he; "we who comes from more enlightened parts don't know how to put up with 'em down here. I find the people here knows mighty little indeed; in fact, I may say they are univarsaly onedicated. I goes out among none on 'em, 'cause they aint such as I have been used to 'sociate with. When I gits a little richer, so that I can stop work, I tend to go back to Maryland, and spend the rest of my days." "I wonder the negroes don't attempt to get their freedom by physical force." "It aint no use for 'em

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 of her lovely voice, falling on a lover's ears, had represented the beauty and happiness of the country only as words can do to those who have not seen what they describe. It was more pleasant to Ossian to enjoy than it was afterwards bitter to remember. So many were its pleasures that when he recalled his life there a hundred things were forgotten, and yet it seemed impossible. For Tirnanoge had made young his soul and body. The battles of old which he had fought in Ireland, the wounds, the weariness, the anxiety, the mourning, no longer helped to stiffen his limbs and weigh down his heart. He rose up in the morning glad and he lay down at night content. He was never tired of doing pleasant things many times over. Each present hour was as happy to him as the long-past hour seems to men who have never been in Tirnanoge. Seldom did the old days in Ireland return to his mind. When they did he saw the heroes and their fights, all as beautiful and quiet as the pictures upon the walls. Thus he saw the mild, wise, generous Finn his father in many acts of his life, but above all on the day when he struck his dog Bran. The noble dog looked at him in wonder, and as Finn stooped to make up for the blow by a caress, he wished that the arm had been torn from his shoulder before it had offended. He saw the sweet-tongued bard, his uncle Fergus; his own mighty son Oscar, who won back a lost battle with a tree trunk for weapon; the one-eyed Gaul; the beautiful, chivalrous Dermat. He saw them in chase and battle, always triumphing by their truth-telling and the might of their hands. He recalled the trial-days for men seeking to join the ranks of the Fena. The candidate was bound never to refuse hospitality, never to insult a woman, to take no dowry with his wife. Having promised these things, he was tested for strength and


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 to try that, for if they do, we puts 'em through by daylight," replied Huckelby. "There are some desperate fellows among the slaves," said Snyder. "Indeed," remarked Carlton. "Oh, yes," replied the preacher. "A case has just taken place near here, where a neighbour of ours, Mr. J. Higgerson, attempted to correct a negro man in his employ, who resisted, drew a knife, and stabbed him (Mr. H.) in several places. Mr J. C. Hobbs (a Tennessean) ran to his assistance. Mr. Hobbs stooped to pick up a stick to strike the negro, and, while in that position, the negro rushed upon him, and caused his immediate death. The negro then fled to the woods, but was pursued with dogs, and soon overtaken. He had stopped in a swamp to fight the dogs, when the party who were pursuing him came upon him, and commanded him to give up, which he refused to do. He then made several efforts to stab them. Mr. Roberson, one of the party, gave him several blows on the head with a rifle gun; but this, instead of subduing, only increased his desperate revenge. Mr. R. then discharged his gun at the negro, and missing him, the ball struck Mr. Boon in the face, and felled him to the ground. The negro, seeing Mr. Boon prostrated, attempted to rush up and stab him, but was prevented by the timely interference of some one of the party. He was then shot three times with a revolving pistol, and once with a rifle, and after having his throat cut, he still kept the knife firmly grasped in his hand, and tried to cut their legs when they approached to put an end to his life. This chastisement was given because the negro grumbled, and found fault with his master for flogging his wife." "Well, this is a bad state of affairs indeed, and especially the condition of the poor whites," said Carlton. "You see," replied Snyder, "no white man is respectable in

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 to the fair of Versailles with some goods, she had decided that I should attend her. We started the next day, and forty-eight hours afterward were established at the Champ-de-Foire. A servant who had attended us slept in the shop; as for me, I lodged with madame, at the auberge; we had ordered two rooms, but in consequence of the influx of strangers, we could only have one: resignation was compulsory. In the evening, madame had a large screen brought, with which she divided the room into two, so that we each had our own apartment. Before we went to bed, she preached to me for an hour. Afterward, we went up stairs; madame entered her division, I wished her good evening, and in two minutes was in bed. Soon sighs began to escape her, doubtless caused by the fatigue she had experienced during the day; she sighed again, but the candle was out, and I went to sleep. Suddenly, I was interrupted in my first nap, I thought someone pronounced my name; I listened.

"Eugene."

It was the voice of Madame Duflos. I made no reply.

"Eugene," she called again, "have you closed the door properly?"

"Yes, madame."

"I think you mistake; look I beg of you, and see if the bolt is properly secured; we cannot be too careful in these auberges."

I did as desired and returned to my bed. Scarcely was I laid once more on my left side than madame began to complain.

"What a miserable bed! I am eaten up by the bugs, it is impossible to close an eye! And you, Eugene, have you any of these insupportable insects?"

I turned a deaf ear to the question.

"Eugene, answer me; have you any of these bugs, as I have?" [sic]

"On my word, madame, I have not yet found any."

"You are very fortunate then, and I congratulate you; as for me, I am devoured by them, I have bites of such


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 these slave states who works for a living. No community can be prosperous, where honest labour is not honoured. No society can be rightly constituted, where the intellect is not fed. Whatever institution reflects discredit on industry, whatever institution forbids the general culture of the understanding, is palpably hostile to individual rights, and to social well-being. Slavery is the incubus that hangs over the Southern States." "Yes," interrupted Huckelby; "them's just my sentiments now, and no mistake. I think that, for the honour of our country, this slavery business should stop. I don't own any, no how, and I would not be an overseer if I wern't paid for it."

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 place to which God of his infinite mercy bring us and everybody." To these Protestants he would doubtless have joined the freethinking Bolingbroke. At a later period he told Warburton, in less elevated language, that the change of his creed would bring him many enemies and do no good to any one.

Pope could feel nobly and act honourably when his morbid vanity did not expose him to some temptation; and I think that in this matter his attitude was in every way creditable. He showed, indeed, the prejudice entertained by many of the rationalist divines for the freethinkers who were a little more outspoken than himseif. The deist whose creed was varnished with Christian phrases, was often bitter against the deist who rejected the varnish; and Pope put Toland and Tindal into the Dunciad as scandalous assailants of all religion. From his point of view it was as wicked to attack any creed as to regard any creed as exclusively true; and certainly Pope was not disposed to join any party which was hated and maligned by the mass of the respectable world. For it must be remembered that, in spite of much that has been said to the contrary, and in spite of the true tendency of much so-called orthodoxy, the profession of open dissent from Christian doctrine was then regarded with extreme disapproval. It might be a fashion, as Butler and others declare, to talk infidelity in cultivated circles; but a public promulgation of unbelief was condemned as criminal, and worthy only of the Grub-street faction. Pope, therefore, was terribly shocked when he found himself accused of heterodoxy. His poem was at once translated, and, we are told, spread rapidly in France, where Voltaire and many inferior writers were introducing the contagion of English freethinking. A solid Swiss pastor -

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 courage. He had to stand in a pit exposed from the knees upward, and with only a shield and a hazel wand to turn aside the spears hurled at him by nine warriors together. Also he was given a short start and had to race through the forest before armed men: he could shelter himself only by tree trunks, but if wounded or caught—if even he had broken a branch in his course or unbraided his hair, or if his weapons at the end trembled in his hands—he could not become one of the Fena. He had to run at full speed and without slackening pluck a thorn out of his heel, jump a branch as high as himself, and stoop under one no higher than his knee.

His memory showed him these things, and they were curious and amusing. He did not know that they were memories. They belonged to a life so unlike that of Tirnanoge, that he saw them without knowing that he himself had once hunted with those hunters and warred beside those warriors. He laughed at some of them as at outlandish scenes. The life of Tirnanoge was all beautiful, being of a kind that men have always refused to think possible, because it was active and full of variety yet never brought death or decay, weariness or regret. This cannot easily be imagined by earthly men. They say that perfect happiness would be dull if it were possible. If they could imagine it, they would not love it so utterly when they possessed it like Ossian; many would refuse it because it wipes out the desire and the conscious memory of earth. The men of Tirnanoge remember earth without knowing what it is they are remembering, just as in dreams we may recall what we did not know had ever happened to us.

For hundreds of years Ossian lived with Niav in this forgetfulness. They had three children, two sons and a daughter, and they called the sons Finn and Oscar.


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 a size! If it goes on in this way, I shall pass a sleepless night."

I kept silence, but was compelled to break it when Madame Duflos, exasperated by her sufferings and not knowing how, between the biting and itching, to relieve herself, began to cry out with all her strength.

"Eugene! Eugene! do get up, I beseech you, and be so good as to ask the innkeeper for a light, that we may drive away these cursed animals. Make haste I entreat you, my friend, for I am in hell."

I went down and came up again with a lighted candle, which I put on the table near the lady's bed. As I was but lightly clad, that is to say, with my flags flying in the wind, I retired as quickly as possible, as well out of respect to the modesty of Madame Duflos, as to escape the seductions of an elegant negligénégligé [sic], in which there appeared to me to be some design. But scarcely had I got around the screen when Madame Duflos gave a piteous shriek.

"Ah! what a size, what a monster, I can never have the courage to kill it: how it runs, it will get away. Eugene! Eugene! come here, I supplicate you."

I could not retreat, but, like a second Theseus, I risked all, and approached the bed.

"Where, where," said I, "is this Minotaur, let me exterminate him?"

"I conjure you, Eugene, not to jest in that way—there, there, see how it runs; did you see it on the pillow? how it goes down the bed—what swiftness! It seems to know the fate you have in store for it."

In vain did I use all diligence; I could neither catch nor even see the dangerous animal. I looked and felt every where to discover its hiding place. I made every possible exertion to find it, but in vain. Sleep overpowered us in our endeavours; and if, on waking, by a return to the past, I was led to reflect that Madame Duflos had been more fortunate than Potiphar's wife, I had the pain of thinking that I had not had all the virtue of Joseph.


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 and professor of philosophy, (1663–1750), undertook the task of refutation, and published an examination of Pope's philosophy in 1737 and 1738. A serious examination of this bundle of half-digested opinions was in itself absurd. Some years afterwards (1751) Pope came under a more powerful critic. The Berlin Academy of Sciences offered a prize for a similar essay, and Lessing published a short tract called Pope ein Metaphysiker! If any one cares to see a demonstration that Pope did not understand the system of Leibnitz, and that the bubble blown by a great philosopher has more apparent cohesion than that of a half-read poet, he may find a sufficient statement of the case in Lessing. But Lessing sensibly protests from the start against the intrusion of such a work into serious discussion; and that is the only ground which is worth taking in the matter.

The most remarkable result of the Essay on Man, it may be parenthetically noticed, was its effect upon Voltaire. In 1751 Voltaire wrote a poem on Natural Law, which is a comparatively feeble application of Pope's principles. It is addressed to Frederick instead of Bolingbroke, and contains a warm eulogy of Pope's philosophy. But a few years later the earthquake at Lisbon suggested certain doubts to Voltaire as to the completeness of the optimist theory; and, in some of the most impressive verses of the century, he issued an energetic protest against the platitudes applied by Pope and his followers to deaden our sense of the miseries under which the race suffers. Verbally, indeed, Voltaire still makes his bow to the optimist theory, and the two poems appeared together in 1756; but his noble outcry against the empty and complacent deductions (which it covers, led to his famous controversy with Rousseau.

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As a result of the wide publicity given the half-million-dollar purse paid Messrs. Dempsey and Carpentier for a twelve-minute exhibition of assault and battery, prize fighting has driven the cleaner and healthier sports momentarily out of the limelight. It is, perhaps, not to be wondered that many a strapping young collegian, poring over his studies, sighs reflectively and allows a tentative hand to stray to his biceps. As opposed to the inevitable grind at meager pay before success comes at law, medicine, business, any of the arts or sciences, the prospect of getting half a million dollars within a couple of years for a few minutes' exhibition of the "manly art" is extremely alluring. That the vast majority of professional bruisers batter or get battered into disfiguring insensibility week after week for a few dollars, that the average paid boxer is "through" long before thirty-five, and that most of them, even ex-champions, die destitute and forgotten, is seldom, if ever, stressed by the prize-fight enthusiast.

According to its admirers, prize fighting develops physical and moral courage to the highest degree, even implants self-respect, good sportsmanship, and a sense of fair play where those elements have been lacking, and, in a word, is at all times a most edifying and character-building spectacle.

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iv A notable example of the latter was furnished last July at Toledo, when Dempsey pounded the blood-covered and half-conscious wreck of Willard from one side of the ring to the other, to the accompaniment of a chorus of such typically sportsmanlike expressions as "Kill the big bum!" As to the physical and moral courage inculcated by the prize ring, I have seen punishment assimilated in an intercollegiate football game that would make the average prize fighter jump out of the ring. For the moral courage, glance at the war record of the pugilists as a class. The majority of our own "fighters" went on the "See America First!" principle, and many from other countries, particularly England, slipped over here and stayed bomb-proof during the recent unpleasantness. Naturally, there were individual exceptions. A few American boxers saw service in France, and Carpentier himself won honors as an aviator, but I am sure that was in spite of the fact that those men were professional maulers and not because of it. Again, a perusal of the professions of those who were commended for extraordinary bravery in action will show clerks, bookkeepers, salesmen, farmers, etc.—few, if any, prize fighters. Our most decorated doughboy, Sergeant Yorke, was a minister.

The American Legion was very much exercised over the recent Dempsey-Carpentier bout, on the ground that Dempsey, the war-time shipbuilder, should not have been permitted to represent America as its "greatest fighter." Without going into the merits of this viewpoint, when one thinks that Dempsey, who never got nearer France than the Newark (N. J.) Bay Shipyards, got three hundred thousand dollars for fighting

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 one man a few minutes with a pair of eight-ounce gloves and that the average doughboy got thirty-three dollars a month for fighting a couple of million men for a year with a bayonet, it is not hard to sympathize with those indignant ex-members of the A. E. F.—thousands of whom are jobless and recovering from grievous wounds.

The impression of one who by some years of actual experience has accumulated a little first-hand knowledge of the sordid atmosphere surrounding modern professional pugilism (not amateur boxing)—an admirable exercise and a vastly different sport—is that it is a great thing to keep away from. It is no more conducted with the idea of improving the breed of the genus homo than present-day horse racing is devoted to the improvement of the breed of the horse. To the young, clean, husky youth who is regarding a career in the prize ring with a contemplative eye, I would suggest a ringside seat, not at a championship battle, but at some of the bouts between second- and third-raters, where he would naturally begin his own apprenticeship. Let him observe the contestants and their "handlers," listen to the supervile admonitions or expletives hurled at a battered loser by the crowd, absorb some of the general atmosphere—and then make his choice.

H. C. W.

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and Cockeyed Egan was tourin' "God's Own Country" (Russian for the West), where the natives would rather be Harold Bell Wright than be president, each with a stable of battlers, pickin' up beaucoup sugar by havin' 'em fight each other over the short routes, when Kane Halliday skidded across my path. Besides Beansy Mullen and Bearcat Reed, a coupla heavies, I had a good welter in Battlin' Lewis, and Egan had K. O. Krouse, another tough boy, which made up a set. Them last two babies mixed with each other more times a month than a chorus girl uses a telephone, "without either gaining a decided advantage," as the newspapers innocently remarks. They was steppin' out with each other about four times a week, playin' a different burg each night, and everything was jake till K. O. Krouse shook a mean dice and win $28 from Battlin' Lewis on the ways to Toledo, where we had 'em scheduled to go twelve fast rounds to a draw. Lewis broods and mutters over that for the balance of the railroad ride and knocks

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 Krouse dead in the first frame that night. On account of this cuckoo forgettin' he was a box fighter, and therefore not supposed to get mad, we lose five other bouts we are signed up for with Krouse, which outa petty revenge refused to fight my boy any more. Cockeyed Egan is all for goin' back to New York, because, as he says, if they have took wrestlin' bouts off of the list of felonies there again they certainly oughta stand for the Krouse-Lewis act, where the boys is positively guaranteed to try in the last second of the final round, anyways!

I'm just puttin' a handful of the hotel towels in my suit case on account of you never can tell when they will come in handy, when a bell hop appears at the door and makes me a present of the followin' cable:

''Guarantee you thousand Cleveland Bearcat Reed vs. One-Punch Loughlin. Wire if right.''

Now, this One-Punch Loughlin looked like the next heavyweight champ to the disrobed eye' right then. He had clouted his way through the rest of the large boys like Dewey went through Manila Bay, and his knockout record sounded like the first two pages of the phone book. Dummy Carney was his manager, and him wirin' me, instead of the club doin' it, was the office that friend Dummy had somethin' cooked up. Sendin' Bearcat Reed into a ring with this rough Loughlin person was like enterin' a armless wonder in a bowlin' tourney. If Loughlin was tryin', my battler wouldn't have a chance if they let him climb through the ropes with a ax in each hand; but for a guarantee of a thousand fish I would let Bearcat Reed box five starvin' lions and a coupla irritated wildcats in the

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