Class _ _ Book_. COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT \ ' •*«- • * \ SILVERN SECRET . . . OK . . . The Autobiography of a Silver Dollar ( COPYF!lQHT, I89fe . . . BY . . . I.IDA M. KECK M HAMILTON, OHIO THE REPTTBLIJAN PUBLISHING CO. HAMILTON, OHIO X >? TO MRS. BLANCHE HOOVEN GRIFFIS WHOSE KIND ASSISTANCE IN FURNISHING DATA MADE ITS PUBLICATION POSSIBLE, THIS BOOK IS GRATEFULLY DEDICATED * « 1 - PREFATORY - - In order that the reader may understand the true sense and significance of the following story, a few explanatory remarks may not be out of place. It will be observed that throughout the entire narrative the Dollar (who is the traveler) speaks as though personally addressing the reader. The reason for this is that the Dollar is presumably telling the story to the author. With this fact in view, it will at once be understood why in relating an incident such an expression as “I will tell you,” etc., etc., is used. In writing “A Silvern Secret,” the author was greatly assisted >y Mrs. Blanche Hooven Griffis, from whose journal, diary, pho- ographic collections and personal reminiscences of foreign travels, auch help was obtained. A number of the incidents described in the following chap- ters, were suggested by similar occurrences recorded by the above data. The relation of the Dollar to the world is meant to represent every individual’s position in regard to his fellow beings; and to show how often unconsciously we become instruments for good or evil in the hands of fortune. \Ve are the true coins of the spiritual realm. Let us see to it that we are each one a true legal tender, doing uncomplainingly the service, however humble, of the Great Ruler of the Universe; and being worthy to bear likeness of Him in whose image we are made. Thus we, like the Silver Dollar, may proudly bear upon our faces, not the Goddess of Uiberty, but the God of Heaven; not the American Eagle, but the Dove of Heavenly Peace; and honestly have for our motto, that of our own great nation, “In God we Trust.” ' A SILVERN SECRET OR THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A SILVER DOLLAR I came into -the world as a silver dollar in 1878, and conse- quently at this writing (1893) I am “sweet sixteen.” My existence has been a series of experiences, all more or less interesting, but like the figures made by the little pieces of glass in a kaleidoscope, always different. It shall be my aim in this brief history of myself to relate only such of the events alluded to as shall be entertaining or in- structive to my readers. I have concluded first to tell you how I happened to be a sil- ver dollar at all. My opportunities for research, however, have been somewhat limited, and .should I evince ignorance upon any of the subjects mentioned, I trust you will consider such errors as mistakes of the brain and not of the heart. Being of an inquiring turn of mind, I have availed myself of every opportunity of becoming familiar with my pedigree, and the first chapter of this little book shall be devoted to “The Dust Out Of Which I Was Formed.” CHAPTER I. THE DUST OUT OF WHICH I WAS FORMED. P'or countless centuries, the silver ore out of which I was made, was hidden from the sight of man. The wild flowers of spring-time, the roses of summer, the har- vests of autumn, the cold winds of winter, visited the earth again 8 and again before men came to know of the vast treasure in store for them beneath the rugged surface of Utah. But, one memora- ble morning, in the spring of 1869, a party of “prospectors” who were searching for lead, ascended one of the numerous hills of Juan County, Utah, and in searching for lead they found that rich veins of silver seamed the rocks beneath their feet. Being igno- rant, however, as to the appearance of silver ore, they wasted large quantities of the purest virgin silver. However, by-and-by, intelligent men came to see the mine, and it was christened “Eureka Hill.” The manner of opening up the mine was something on this order: — They made large cuts or openings on the surface with hammers and drills, and into these they put black powder, which shattered the adamantine rocks as though they were children’s toys. Of course a great many persons laid claim to the treasure, but after much litigation the whole interest was bought out by one company. Vertical shafts were driven to the vein, and the character of the ore was ascertained to be of superior quality. I was greatly gratified when I learned this, and I take a certain amount of pride in the knowledge. The most of the silver was taken to a place called Sandy, Utah, and underwent a process something like this : — The ore was first put into an immense “rock-breaker.” This machine resembles the human jaws and with these it grinds the ore un- til it is broken into small fragrants. Next it is placed in drying kilns, the weight being taken before and after heating so as to estimate the percentage of moisture it contains. The “battery,” or stamp, came next. These^ weigh about 850 pounds each. After this, the silver was in a pulpy condition and salt was mixed with it. This mixture was placed in a furnace andjroasted and the silver was brought into a free state so as to be taken up by mercury, or quick-silver. It was then placed in large pans containing quick-silver where the pulp was thoroughly mixed by mullers, or flat iron shoes. Then the mass was drawn off into settlers, the dross or tailings were washed away, and the pure sil- ver with the mercury was placed in large conical shaped strainers made of heavy canvas. The mixture was then called amalgam, and after straining out all- the quick-silver possible, the amalgam 9 was placed in a retort — a large iron pot shaped like an ordinary water glass. An iron cover was clamped over the top of the re* tort and intense heat was applied. Then the quick-silver pas- sed out through a pipe and the silver was in a moulten mass. It was now formed into bricks. Then it was taken to the assay office where small particles were chipped off to ascertain the fine- ness of the brick. I was glad to learn that the silver from the Eureka Mine was of very fine quantity, but I have always regretted that so much human toil was necessary before I could be a silver dollar. The men who brought the silver to the light, or rather who sent it up, have, it seems to me, the very hardest life of all the people of whom I ever heard, but I shall not harrow up your feel- ings by describing the hardships of these miners. My story is to be only of those persons with whom I came in contact, and I will return to the silver bricks, and in so doing will introduce to you Clarence G. Urban, of New York. He was a young man of eastern birth, whose father was the owner of one of the largest stove manufactories in the country. Clarence had a few more years of schooling to obtain, and then he too was to enter the business as a junior partner. His father now bore the much coveted title of millionaire. Clarence had pur- chased a large interest in the silver mine in question, and desiring to visit the western part of the country, concluded to take a trip to Utah to look after his mining interests. Accordingly, he made the long trip, and found so many interesting things in connection with the mine that he felt amply repaid for the journey. When he was ready to return, he was asked to oversee the shipment of a large quantity of silver bricks to Philadelphia where they were to be sold. He willingly consented, and the brick containing the dust out of which I was formed was among the number. Arriving in Philadelphia, he had us taken to a building called the Mint. Here he left the silver bullion, as it is called, and went — I know not where. But now having related the events which led to my entering the Mint, I shall give you a short history of that insti- tution before describing “The Way I Came Into Existence.” TO The need of such an institution was keenly felt by the colon- ists previous to tbe Revolution, and soon after the adoption of the Constitution, an Act of Congress provided for the establishment of the United States Mint. [That was on April the second, 1792.] Consequently three hundred years after Columbus discovered America, a new medium of exchange was added to the coins of the world. The first Mint was a plain brick structure, located on the east side of Seventh Street, near Arch, and its corner stone was laid by David Rittenhouse, director of the Mint, on July 31, 1792. This building was occupied for about forty years. It was then found that a larger and more commodious building was absolutely necessarj'. Therefore, on the 19th day of May, 1829, Congress passed an Act locating the U. S. Mint at the northwest corner of Chestnut and Juniper Streets. The corner stone of this edifice was laid on the Fourth of July, 1829. The building is of white marble after the Grecian style of architecture, and the roof is covered with copper. The Mint is a spacous building and contains a large number of apartments, but to- describe all of these would be to exceed the limits of this narrative. In giving you my autobiography, how- ever, I thought it well to acquaint you wdth a few T of the causes which led to my coinage. CHAPTER II. THE WAY I CAME INTO EXISTENCE. After Clarence Urban had sold his silver bricks to the Direc- tor of the Mint, many curious things took place before I became a bright, glossy silver dollar. First, in his presence and that of the proper officials, the sil- ver was carefully weighed. It was then locked in iron boxes and taken to the melting room where the boxes were opened by two men, each provided with a key to one of the separate locks. It was then placed in pots, being first mixed with borax, etc., and was then melted and placed in iron moulds and when cooled was again taken to the deposit room in bars, where it was reweighed and a small piece cut from the lot by a man called the assayer. The proportion of fine silver in this chip, of course, determined the fineness of the whole. The silver was then carried up stairs and the whole mass was thrown into a large tank of boiling nitric acid. Scarcely ten minutes had elapsed after the silver entered the tank until not a particle of that metal could be detected. The next thing to be - done was to recover the silver from the acid. This was done by pouring the boiling mixture into tubs prepared for its reception and adding some salt water to it. This done, the silver sank to the bottom, and the acid containing the alloy was poured off. The silver was now read) 7, for other and more curious treatment than it had yet received. It now somewhat resembled cheese and was carried to the drying cellar. Here it was put under eighty tons pressure and all the water pressed out. It was then dried with heat and conveyed to the furnaces. Here it was alloyed, melted and poured into narrow moulds. The bars of silver so formed are called ingots ; they are about twelve inches long and 12 an inch thick. These ingots are worth $60.00 each. These rooms have a fa^e floor, made in honey-comb pattern, so that it can be readily taken up. It is rough and thus prevents any par- ticles of the precious metals adhering to the feet of those who enter. The next place the silver entered was the rolling room, and here the ingots were reduced to planchets for coining. It passed through this machine eight times, and the bars were then six feet long and the exact thickness of a dollar. These bars were then placed in another furnace and were heated to a red heat. The silver bars were now soft and pliable and were allowed to cool slowly. The drawing bench was next used, and after passing through this machine, the silver was ready for cutting. This was done by a cutting machine, and after passing through this the planchets were taken to the adjusting room. Here they were very carefully weighed, and if one was too heavy or too light it went through a process called adjusting. This work was done by ladies. The time of my advent was now rapidly ap- proaching, but I was not yet /. The coining department is the most interesting to the visitor, and occupies the larger portion of the floor on the east side of the building. After we were received into this department, I was caught by the milling machine which gave me the raised edge which you may observe upon any of my brothers. The coining press was operated by a lady, and united beauty with strength. Here they stamped upon my face a Liberty head facing left, upon which is a cap, a wheat and cotton wreath, and a band inscribed “Liberty;” above, “E PLURIBUS UNUM,” beneath, the date, 1878, and the thirteen stars. On my back is stamped the American eagle with expanded wings, bearing in its right talon an olive branch w T ith nine leaves, in the left three arrows. In the field above appears the significant words “In God We Trust,” and beneath, a semi-wreath tied and crossed, reaching upward toward the wings, and these words, “United States of America.” I began to feel very patriotic, and for the first time my personality was established. I was now a full fledged silver dollar,/ Worth one hundred cents, and a legal tender all over the United 1 States, *3 Before leaving this department, however, the dollars were counted by a very ingenious contrivance called a “count- ing-board.” This board resembled a common washing-board with the grooves running parallel with the sides, but much larger than those of a washing-board. The board was worked by hand, over a box, and as we were counted we slipped one by one into a drawer prepared to receive us. I was then placed in a bag with nine hundred and ninety-nine other dollars and awaited shipment. During my short stay in the Mint, after becoming a silver dollar, I remained in the bag and was protected by a vault, which is made of steel and whose doors are safe doors six inches thick. These are protected by burglar-defying locks and guarded by two men. One of these men represents the Director of the Mint and the other represents the superintendent. Each was a check upon the other and nothing could be taken without being seen and recorded by both. The vault doors could not be opened unless both of these men were present. After leaving the Mint, I was sent to the United States Treasury at Washington, and placed in a vault to await shipment. My stay here was very short for ere long the bag in which I had been placed with nine hundred and ninety-nine other silver dol- lars, was sent to a distant city and entered a large bank. CHAPTER III. THE BANK AND MY DEPARTURE. The bank was a very interesting institution to me,, and here I spent some very happy days. The gentleman who took charge of us dollars when we entered the bank, was called a teller, and after ascertaining that there were just one thousand dollars in the bag, he placed the larger part of the money in the safe. As I am one of the dollars which was kept in the safe, I am able to give you a brief description of my temporary home. It was a steel safe and the door was round. The queerest part of its construc- tion was, however, that the door actually screwed into the body of the safe, and when it was closed and the time lock attached, not a particle of a air could enter the safe. One night we dollars heard a strange sound outside and wondered who could be coming to the bank at that unusual hour. We heard the fire proof vault doors forcibly opened, and discovered by the whispered conversa- tion of the men that they were burglars and were discussing the best way in which to rob the safe. Presently one of them sug- gested dynamite, and then we dollars began to feel rather uncom- fortable, for we knew what a dreadful loss it would be to the bank and the depositors, if these men succeeded in carrying us away. But all of a sudden I recollected having heard the president of the bank say that a Mosler patent screw door bank safe, like the one we were in, had never been opened by experts or burglars, though repeated attempts had been made by both. After that I was not frightened and listened with interest to the plans of the bur- glars. They endeavored to discover some place where they could introduce explosives, but to no purpose. They tried drills and ham- mers, and all manner of tools used in their profession, but each attempt was effectually bafRed, and they finally began to swear ^5 and gave it up. This was the only really exciting event that oe- cured while I was in the bank, but the daily business of the clerks afforded me much entertainment. They were busily engaged in making out checks, looking after collections, answering corre- spondence, etc., etc. I noticed that all money that came into the bank passed through the hands of the teller. People came in continually either to draw or to deposit money, and on those days that I happened to be taken out of the safe, I had ample oppor- tunities for studying human nature. Rich, poor, high and low came alike to this institution and their one theme seemed always to be mone3' . But one day I was handed by the cashier to a poor woman who asked for alms. She was a pale faced creature, with a care- worn face expression and tearful eyes. Her dress was of the cheapest material ; her wrap, a faded shawl, and she wore a decid- edly unfashionable bonnet, but I was a novice in the fashionable world, and thought it delightful to be pressed so affectionately by that toil roughened and wind reddened human hand. She thanked the cashier very sincerely and then her lips began to tremble and a warm tear dropped on my face. But she hastily brushed it away, and turning slowly, left the bank. She cariied me down the crowded street, and I began to hope she would always be my mistress, she was so careful of me ; but my hopes were rudely blasted, for coming to a butcher’s shop, she entered and purchased a pound of beef, murmuring as she did so, “she needs it, poor little dear, and she shall have it.” When the butcher handed her the parcel, she gave me to him and received some small coin in exchange. The butcher threw me carelessly into his cash drawer, and here I had my first experience of being thrown with counterfeits. One or two coins of that description were in the draw T er, and I at once conceived a bitter hatred for them. Their faces were similar to mine, but they were not silver and / am. You will no doubt conclude that I am an aristocrat, but such is not the case. I do not consider myself better than a quarter, a dime, or any lesser coin, if they are only legal tender, any more than you wealthy people would shun a poor person simply because of his poverty. The pass-port to good society all over i6 the monetary world is true worth, and it would be well if the unit of value were the same in the society of men and women. But to return to the butcher’s cash drawer ; I was very much dissatified. About noon I was taken out of the drawer and handed to a genial looking gentleman in a black broad-cloth suit and a fash- ionable hat. This man carried me to a large dry goods store, pre- sumably his own, and placed me in a drawer which, fortunately for me, he neglected to close. During that day I heard so much about bengaline, ladies’ cloth, muslins and laces that I imagined my education in regard to ladies’ attire was very nearly complete. The customers amused me greatly; they were sometimes so strange. Often a lady would come in desiring to see a certain material of a particular shade. It must not be the millionth part darker or the millionth part lighter — just that shade and nothing else. The clerks were untiring in their efforts to please, and fre- quently the counter groaned under its weight of material which might possibly suit her, but just as surely as this took place, the lady would say at last, that she would not purchase today, but would probably “call later,” which meant (the clerks said) that she would not buy anything at all. “Ye gods and little fishes” how the clerks would upbraid such customers. They tortured the language to find words fitting the occasion ; they fumed and fus- sed and sometimes swore, but to no avail. I was, on the other hand, rather glad when such customers came, for they afforded me so much amusement. But as evening was coming on, I was given out, in company with several others, to an ugly old man in change for a ten dollar bill. The man carried me to a decayed house on the outskirts of the city, and after carefully bolting, barring and triple locking the wooden door, he lighted a lamp and looked stealthly around him. The room into which I had been carried was a small, queer looking apartment with a few broken chairs, an old-fashioned bed, table, and stove as its only furniture. The old man did not allow me to remain here long, but taking the lamp began to descend a stairway. The man and the steps *r were both, so old and rickety that the descent was very difficult Finally, he reached such a musty cellar that — silver dollar though I am — it actually chilled me. He placed the lamp on an old box, and its light disclosed a heavy iron door which the old man began slowly to open. It was secured first with a heavy iron chain and was locked by several devices. When he had succeded in open- ing this door, we descended another flight of steps. These led into a subterranean vault where the weird light of the smoking lamp disclosed a curious picture. Lying on the floor were several bags filled with gold and silver money. He opened one of these and threw me in together with several other dollars. He then closed the sack and prepared to depart. I did not know then what I do now, and thought the old man was one of those despis- able creatures called misers. Here I remained for several years, Occasionally our old master would come down and add to our number, each time exclaiming, “a few more, a few more. I wish it were many more, but it will be a good thing for the child, and I hope she’ll appreciate it. I can’t use them, I’m too old and worthless. Yes, that’s what they say about me around the town! I’m a pauper, ami ! Oh yes, let them have their jokes. Maybe they’ll repent them someday.” And so the old fellow would go on. We thought him a harmless lunatic, but wondered where he got the money he brought each week and left among us. One Satur- day night he did not come. The next morning came and he did not appear, and we almost forgot to discuss the “silver question,” in our curiosity as to what had become of him. Several days passed then one morning we heard a girlish voice mingling with the old familar grating of the iron bars, and in another moment the old door yielded and we heard this exclamation of delighted surprise: “Who would have thought it ( that I, Margaret Howe, should have met with such a fortune? The idea of old Uncle Joe leaving me all this money when every one thought him a veritable beggar ! Poor old soul, he saved it all for me, and now he is dead and gone, I am to do what I like with it!” Then for an hour or two she emptied the coins, counted them and then refilled the sacks, after which she sent the bulk of the money to the bank. But before doing so she stooped over the bag in which I had so long languished, and thrusting her plump little hand down among us, drew a handful out. How glad I was that I was among that handful! And if I then had cause for self-congratulation, how much more reason have I now ! She carried us home with her, and what a plain little home it was. Nothing elegant or handsome about it, only Margaret. Sweet blue eyes had Margaret, a queenly head, and a pretty face. She was about seventeen at that time and a perfect little beauty. When .she looked down at us while we were still in the vault, I experienced a strange sen- sation. It seemed to me that I had seen somewhere before a face a great deal like Margaret’s, lint having been shut up so long in that dark old prison, I had almost forgotten everything I ever knew. But when Margaret carried me to her mother and told her that I was only one of several thousands which she now possessed, I knew at once where I had seen the other face,. for in Mrs. Howe I recognized my first mistress, the poor woman at the bank. She looked much better now and the care-worn look was gone, for fortune had turned in her favor, and Margaret being a studious girl, had obtained a position as governess in a .family of wealth and refinement. And now I will tell you how it happened that Margaret had fallen heir to the small fortune of which I was the one-five- thousandth part. Mrs. Howe was an orphan girl and had married a Clergyman, rich only in mind and heart. One child was born to them, but after a protracted illness, the father died, leaving the young mother with Margaret to care for. Mrs. Howe liad no relatives with the exception of one brother who never married and lived all alone in the tumble-down cottage where I spent such a long, long time. No one ever suspected that he had money, for he always appeared to be in the direst poverty. But, since earliest girlhood he had loved his little niece, Margaret, and when her father died he made a mental resolution that he would hoard his earnings until he should have enough to make her independent. He was a carpenter by trade and worked steadily year, in and year out, purchasing only what clothes he required and subsisting upon the plainest and cheapest food. Some supposed that he drank as he seemed to be so poor, others thought him a miser but could not imagine where he hid his gold, little dreaming that a -well guarded vault lay far beneath his humble dwelling. Seldom indeed did any one cross his threshold excepting Margaret. He had been angry at, his sis- ter for marrying her lover whom he hated bitterly, and while for Margaret’s sake he treated his sister with respect, she knew he did not love her. So Margaret claimed the only warm spot in his callous old heart. But lately he had been ill and Margaret had been much with him during the time she was not employed. A physician came daily, but his skill was of no avail, for as the old man himself said: “it’s no use takin’ medicine, for I’m done fer,’’ One morning, he called Margaret to his bed-side and told her that in a certain old chesty of which he handed her a key, she would find a will bequeathing to her all his worldly belongings. “You will think, Margie, that you are .receiving a poor legacy, but after I have gone to sleep for the last time, go down into the cellar of this house and from thence into the vault below, and then you will see how dearly your old -Uncle Joe has loved you.’’ Margie’s eyes were full of tears, and it was plain that the first part of his little talk had effected her deeply, for Margie’s heart was a tender one, and she loved the friendless, old uncle with all the pure affection of her young heart. Margaret’s w;as one of those natures whose likes and dislikes w T ere not affected by popular opinion. She lived in a little world of her own and only ventured out of it, when in the society of those she loved and trusted Among these were many a poor soul, who looked upon the fair young girl with a kind of .reverence fostered in their bosoms almost unconsciously. She was, in short, a ray of heaven’s sunshine, enshrined in a human heart. But we have wandered from the bed-side of old Jonas Jenkins much farther than Margaret would have thought of doing, and in the mean time the old heart has ceased to beat; the wrinkled hands that toiled for this little woman, unknown to all the world, were tenderly folded on the quiet breast by the hands of her he loved so well, and the next day a quiet funeral took place, and the poor old body was laid to rest. Margaret had supposed when her uncle told her about the vault beneath the cellar that his mind was wandering, and had given little thought to his words. But several days later she took the key of the old house, and thought she would make a tour of investigation through her new possessions. The result of her vi^it you already know. Her mother, as you may imagine, was greatly surprised and could scarcely believe the truth of Margaret’s statements, but after reading the will and an old letter left by her brother, explaining why he had lived in poverty all his life, she was convinced of the truth After a*few weeks Margaret and her mother moved in more roomy quarters, but they spent only a small portion of the money. Margaret pre- ferred tp continue her work until some feasible plan suggested itself to her whereby she could best use her money. One day Margaret and a young girl friend were walking down one of the streets of the city and I was in her purse with some pap^r money and various small coins. As they passed a jeweler’s window, the young lady w T ho was with Margaret sud- denly exclaimed “Say Margie, while I was away on my visit one of the girls I met proposed one day to a crowd of us that we have our initials engraved upon a dollar, and then see whether it would ever come back to us. Suppose we do the same.’’ Margaret, thinking it an odd little pastime at once agreed, and they entered the jewelry store. Now as I was the only silver dollar in her purse, of course, I was destined to be given over to the jeweler with instructions to engrave M. H. upon my face. The other young lady having given similar instructions in re- gard to her coin, they left the store. The engraving was an ex- perience that I hope I shall never be compelled to undergo again. I thought it must be similar to being vaccinated. However it was finally over, and we were laid away to await the coming of our owners. One afternoon Margaret and her friend came after us and I was glad indeed to fall into her hands again. She put me in her pocket-book, and she and Miss Blackburn (for such was the young lady’s name) started down town to attend (as I ascertained from their conversation) a lecture to be given by a lady from a distant city to the girls of the town. The lecture was called “A Talk With the Girls,” and when the girls entered the hall they found a number of others already there, and a sweet faced lady was sitting upon the platform. Soon she rose to speak, and as her lecture was of such a nature as I think will interest all girls, and as it had such a direct bearing upon my future fortunes and those of Margaret Howe I will give a part of it verbatim. She began thus : “Girls, I have come here this afternoon to tell you a story which I hope may help some of you, and if such shall be its effect, I will feel that my visit has not been in vain. “When I was a little girl scarcely ten years of age, my mother was taken from me by the hands of death. There were five children in all, of which I was the eldest. My father being un- able to hire help, I was compelled to take care of them as best I could. My father helped me a great deal, as he had learned to cook and do a little house work during my mother’s protracted illness, but the responsibility fell on me and a hard life I had of it. Here I remained, unable to go to school, and the only edu- cation I got was what I learned at home during the busy hours of the long, long days. Finally one of my sisters grew large enough to help ^ne, and I began to perfect myself in the art of cooking, and to learn how to prepare all sorts of fancy dishes. My sister became a teacher, and so I was still compelled to spend the greater part of my life in the kitchen. Still I would have my spelling-book and my reader before me and managed to learn a little of arithmetic and geography. One day however I met a young man who seemed to me to possess every admirable trait of which the genus homo is capable. He seemed to take an equal liking to me, and the consequence was that one beautiful winter night, as we were coming home from church, he asked me to be his wife. I accepted and one balmy morning in early June, the old house looked its gayest, for my sister had added a few graceful touches here and there, and all over the house were scattered bunches of old-fashioned flowers. I could not afford a fashionable wedding, and my dress was a plain white swiss. My only ornament was a bunch of old-fashioned white blossoms gathered from the rose bush down by the gate. But I was 22 happy and my future seemed to be one of ceaseless pleasure. My young lover came at the appointed time, and in the old parlor where I had come so often to weep and pray, I was now married to John Howard. He kissed me so proudly, and I felt so brave and strong and happy when I leaned on his manly arm, that I imagined I should never be sad again. We lived in a little cot- tage by the road-side, and John went away each morning to his work leaving a warm kiss on my lips and a kind word in my ear. A year rolled by, a year whose happiness can never come back to me, and then a little child came into our home — a darling baby boy, the very image of his father. And then we were happier than ever. I had a companion to share my bliss while my loved one was away. But one spring my beloved husband began to grow pale and wan. He grew steadily worse and one June day, a twin to the one on which he called me wife, he left me. Oh, God, can I ever forget that day, I wept and like Rachel ‘refused to be comforted.’ Several months passed, but the shadow grew only deeper. I could not become reconciled, but I was com- pelled to forget my grief at last and make plans whereby I could support myself and child, for our little fortune was rapidly dwind- ling away, and within a year it would be gone. My sister wanted me to come home and take my old position as house-keeper, promising me, also, a reimbursement for my work. But the very sight of the old home was worm-wood to me. I could not go back; for there every tree in the old lawn, every stone in the gravel walk reminded me of him, for had not the former yielded a friendly shade for his wooing? And had not the latter brought a grateful sound to my ears when he walked upon them? Ah, no, to go back there would be beyond my feeble powers, feut on the other hand, what was I to do? I had never learned enough to teach; poor soul, I sadly needed to be taught myself, and gradually the thought grew upon me that I must be taught, but how and by whom? Would anybody in the great cold world care enough for a poor widowed thing like me to spend a moment upon her} No, I must work my own way, and this I resolved to do. With this purpose in view, I took the few dol- lars which still remained, and started for a neighboring city. *3 Ever} r one ridiculed me, but I was determined. My little boy r Robert, went with me and after much difficulty I obtained a place as a cook. Here I earned a scanty livelihood for myself and my boy, but managed to save enough to clothe him and to buy ; a few books, with which I occupied every leisure moment, for I was determined to get an education. These books, of course, were primary in their nature, but I was obliged to begin, at the ‘foot of the ladder,’ in my educational undertakings. I lived this way for a year and was beginning to hope that I could keep my position until I had learned enough to obtain a more desirable place; but one morning my mistress told me that she could employ me no longer, as I was ‘always dczing over some old book, and reading and cooking were two separate and dis- tinct callings.’ So I was turned out into the wintry world, and that night I wandered the forsaken streets, carrying a precious burden wrapped up in an old shawl, without a friend in the whole town. ‘Oh, it was pityful, in the whole city-full,’ not one friendly door would have opened to me and my darling boy. So I walked to and fro, little knowing nor caring where, so that I kept awake and Robert was warm. Next day I bought a meagre breakfast at a cheap eating-house, and then we started out again. I went from house to house, with a strength born of despair and mother love, and finally just as evening was coming on, I secured a position as cook again. I told my story to the lady, who was truly worthy of the name, and her eyes filled with tears while I spoke. She took my baby in her own arms and soothed and comforted the poor little fellow, while I prepared the evening meal. I remained with her for some time, and still clung to my spelling book and reader. I had confided my plans to my mistress, and she did all she could to help me, and finally obtained a position for me as cook in the family of a professor. This gentleman gave me private instruction in different studies; and I was allowed to study a certain number of hours each day. This plan suited me exactly, and I was almost happy again. Robert grew strong and healthy, and by and by when he was six years old I started him to school. In these five years of work in the city, I had been very economical and at last a few hundred del- H lars were in my possession. One day I told the professor that I desired to enter the college where he taught, and told him that I was willing to do as much work as I could to pay the board oi myself and my boy, and besides to pay for my tuition. The pro- fessor had one of those warm throbbing human hearts which beat for all the world, and when I told him my plans, he took me by the hand, and looking into my face with those great soulful eyes which are now closed to earthly scenes, he told me that aside from a few light tasks which he would set for me about his household, I should have no work to do, and that I could devote myself entirely to my lessons, and after I had finished my college course and secured a good position, I could then repay him for the loan, for I was too proud to accept this tuition gratis. My boy attended the public schools, and in the evening we were generally busy with our books in the little room furnished us by the professor’s wife. I worked my way through college, and one June morning, I graduated and received my diploma. That fact alone would have made me very happy, but I had also received a few days previous a certificate to teach and an appointment to one of the lower departments in the college. I am still a teacher there, and my boy? Would you like to know where be is today? He is attending college in a distant city and expects to enter the ministry in a few years.” Some one ventured to applaud this last statement, and instantly the whole audience clapped their hands in approbation. The lady blushed and looked downward, and then alter a few other remarks continued as follow s : “I have told you the story of my life to show you that it is never too late to learn, and that even a married woman may go to school although she had no opportunities in her youth. “In my work among the girls, I take great pleasure in study- ing them, for if the ‘proper study of mankind is man,’ the proper study of womankind is certainly woman. I like to see the bright faces of the girls, as they are about their studies or at their amusements, and as I often sit and watch them, I find myself wondering what will be their future. If I could mold their lives for them, I should be tempted to allow no clouds to cross their pathways, not even a ripple of sorrow to trouble the placid *5 waters, but dear girls, there are very few of us whose ex- istence is not filled with disappointments, and in whose moral atmosphere there is not always a storm for every cloudless day, and we must prepare for the future shadows. I feel deeply the loss of my youthful vigor and wish I could have it back again, if by so doing I could make a brighter student and a bet- ter woman. But I did not have the advantages that the most of you have. I was compelled to learn in mature womanhood what you can learn now, but I will cease to make comparisons. “Now, girls, I am not acquainted with any of you, but I do know this, that you are all dear to me because you are girls and because very soon you will be women, and I am a woman wor- shipper. I admire a girl’s bright eyes, her silvery voice, her graceful carriage, her bouyant mind and her ability to work. But above all else, I admire a noble ambition — an ambition which compels her to rise above the mediocre and urges her onwaid and upward toward a noble womanhood. There is a great deal of pleasure in society, and for those who can afford it, it is a most excellent and commendable thing to mingle with associates in the social circle, but alas for the girl who makes her social life her only life; alas also for her who has been taught that marriage is the paradise for which she must strive, and that toward the attainment of this elysium she must sacrifice all other ambitions that might tend to interfere with it. Now girls, I want to assure you that I am not one of those women who speak of a man as the}" would of a poisonous reptile and who denounce the other sex in terms neither respectful nor lady-like. No indeed, I honor manhood wherever it is found, and in urging girls to be independent, I cast no reflections whatever upon their fathers and brothers. But, girls, while it is very nice to think of ourselves as beautiful flowers to be taken care of by a tender, indulgent hus- band, yet we must remember that whether we marry or not, we shall have cares and responsibilities that no one can share. Therefore I admonish you to prepare for the future. There is the girl who dwadles through life, She seems to have no other ambition than to ‘eat, drink and be merry.’ If she talks, her con- versation is generally about her dress, her neighbors, or the last 26 ball. In society she is pleasant and loquacious when the conver- sation is upon Some frivolous subject, but should it turn to some- thing useful or to literature she is as silent as the Sphinx. At home she lounges about, reading the latest dime novels, and very likely munching sweet-meats at the same time, thus ruining stomach, eye-sight, and brain at the same time. She is a total stranger in the kitchen, and her room, unless her mother is in- dulgent enough to put it to rights for her, is untidy to the last degree. The fact is she is lazy. -And why is she lazy? The truth is she has no ambition. That is the sum and substance of the whole matter. Such a girl is not necessarily a bad girl, she only needs something or somebody to push her. Now, there are thousands of girls like this in the world, and I venture to say that if questioned they would one and all complain that they were not happy. I hope I am not addressing any one of this nature, but if I should be, let me say to you that you can be noble women and a credit to society, if you will only muster up what ‘pluck’ you find lurking around in the cob-webs of your brain, and say to yourself from this day, ‘I am going to do some- thing.’ Then decide what your work shall be, and go at it with a vim. If your mission is to remain at home, do so, and make a study of house-keeping. Even though your tasks be of the most humble nature, have method in your work and it will not be in vain. But if your calling is teaching, be a teacher. If you are a rich girl and do not know what to do with your money, set your wits to work, and I think you will soon find a better way of disposing of your time, talents, and money than you have done heretofore. There are more avenues open to women now than ever before. The business world has opened its doors to us, and in almost every office in the country, the hand of woman may be seen, doing efficient work, at small pay, it is true, but that draw- back is only for the present. Time will help the ‘little women,’ and by and by their work will bring as large returns as that of their brothers. There are not so many professional woman as there might be, but every year the number is increasing. Women lawyers, teachers, architects, musicians, doctors, etc. While I admire all of these women, I think that I honor the 27 physician most, for a woman can understand and sympathize with a woman so much better than a man can, and while all praise and honor is due to our male physicians, I only suggest that we have an equal chance. Now it may be that some among you today have a faculty for law or a talent for medicine, and I ask you as a favor to think over this matter seriously, prayerfully, and if you have no ambition, no aim in life, let this day decide what you will do and then, as I said before, do it. “Now I am fond of hearing young ladies give their ex- periences upon these lines, and I will take great pleasure in listening for a few moments to any of you who would like to speak. The time is now yours, but before closing, let me sug- gest that you take this stanza of Tennyson’s home with you and make it the standard of your lives.” “Howe’er it be, it seems to me ’Tis only noble to be good, Kind hearts are more than coronets And simple faith than Norman blood.” ¥ For a moment silence fell upon the little assembly, and then one by one the girls began to speak. Such bright, cheerful, hopeful speeches, I wish I could hear them again. And finally Margaret, who was trembling with suppressed emotion, rose and said, “Madame, allow me to thank you heartily for that lecture. It has caused me to decide upon my calling in life. Recently I fell heir to a small fortune, and I have now decided to spend it in obtaining a medical education. I shall not hope to grow rich thereby. I only care to earn a living, and the rest shall be spent for the furtherance of the interests of poor and unfortunate women. The ‘die is cast,’ I shall be a physician.” I will not now stop to give an account of Margaret’s conver- sation with the lecturer whose exultant, happy tones came back to me even now, but beg you to go with me as I am carried swiftly along by Margaret on her return to her home. As soon as she entered, she sought her mother and dropping almost breathless at her side, commenced to tell her story, and this is the very abrupt way in which she began, “Mamma, I know what I am going to do with my money!” “Well, Margie,” said Mrs. Howe, smiling, 28 ‘let’s hear the decision. Are we to have a mansion on Fifth Avenue or a dry goods store on Wall street?” Margaret seeing that her mother evidently thought she was joking, assumed so grave an air and assured her so positively that she was really in deep earnest, that her mother’s face became attentive at once, and she leaned back in her arm chair prepared for anything; and thus Margaret spoke, ‘.‘mamma, I have been thinking seriously of late of the best way to use my money, and the lecture I have just heard has caused me to decide.” Here Margaret related such parts of the lecture as she thought best, and then ended her little oration by saying, ‘‘and when she ceased speaking, I rose and told her that ‘the die was cast,’ and so it is, and with your per- mission, mamma, I am going to be a physician. We can move to New York City, and I can attend the Medical college there, and when I have finished, I can make a living for us both. I do not expect to make a fortune, for I intend to do all I can for poor girls and women who are not able to pay a physician. I feel that this is the mission for which I am fitted, and I am eager to begin my studies at once.” As Margaret paused, her face all aglow with zeal for the new cause, Mrs. Howe hesitated a moment, but being a careful little mother, she could not help pointing out to her daughter the trials and dangers of the course she was about to pursue, but Margaret could not be persuaded to give up her plans, and her mother at last acquiesced in them. ********** I did not remain in Margaret’s possession long after this, for one day she carried me down town, and, stopping at a fruit deal- er’s, she spent me for some fruit. Dear little girl, how I hated to hear her walk away, believing as I did, that in all probability, I should never fall into her hands again, but I bore her monogram and that in itself was a comfort. CHAPTER IV. ON THE MARKET. To relate all my experiences during the two years following the one in which I became the property of the fruit dealer, would plunge me into a series of anecdotes so great in number that in size, my autobiography would rival the Encyclopedia Brittanica. I shall not, therefore, mention severally the many odd ex- periences of those twenty-four months, but only strive to give you some idea as to the character of my wanderings. After leaving the hands of the fruit dealer, I made a pretty thorough tour of the town, thanks to the unconscious kindness of my many masters; but I was destined for a season to be “a wanderer upon the face of the earth,” and in a few weeks I had been transported from a quiet New England hamlet to the shores of the Golden Gate. This journey was made, to be sure, in many different purses and gave me abundant opportunity for studying man-kind for whose special convenience we dollars are created. I also caught numerous glimpses of the beautiful coun- try through which we passed. And while I have since seen the most famous places in Europe, I can still say, as I did then, that in America, nature seems to have delighted in producing diversified effects. For the lover of mountain fastnesses, she has reared the two great mountain systems, one in the East and the other in the West, and spread around them the wild, sylvan beauty which delights the eye; for the lover of river scenery, she has, like a great, good-natured spider, spun a vast web whose every thread is a river; for the lover of high-lands she has fash- ioned a home; for the man who loves the peaceful breezes of a fertile valley, she has created shady nooks and verdant valleys even at the very feet of the mountain ranges. In fact the natural advantages of our own America compare favorably indeed with those of any other country. For this reason, as well as others, I take infinite pride and satisfaction in knowing that I bear upon my face the insignia of the United States ol America. But I have been digressing. To return to myself, I can truthfuly say that the thunderous echoes of the fabled nine-pins had scarcely died away among the nooks and crannies of the Catskill mountains, as I was carried through these wilds by a romatic adventurer, when I was thrust into the pocket of a western tourist, and traveled in his possession toward the set- ting sun. Strange indeed to relate I remained with this gentle- man till the snow-capped summits of the Rockies rose in majestic splendor before my view. I had an opportunity to see these beauties of nature, for even among these mountains, the tourist finds himself compelled to open his purse and pay for every trivial service. My master’s necessity was my oppor- tunity, and that I availed myself of my chance is evidenced by the fact that I can write my autobiography in the manner I am adopting. For six or seven months I was a resident of, or more properly speaking, a wanderer in the state of California. I was delighted w^ith the sight of its lucious fruit, its rare flowers, and its mammoth trees, and was rapidly becoming acclimated (if such an expression can be tolerated from such a cosmopolitan as myself) when I was carried on board a train by a lady whose destination was Utah. In that country where Brigham Young led his peaceful life in the bosom of his little family, I remained for many days, and was actually carried into the town from wdience the silver ore out of which I was formed was taken several years before. But just as I was congratulating myself up- on having reached this town, I was again carried aboard a train, and my next glimpse at the outside world disclosed the plains of Montana. And so I became a mere feather on the wind of fortune, now blown swiftly, fiercely forward, now laid softly down in some quiet corner, only to be hurried from my retreat by a furious gale or an idle zephyr. During those years in which I gained my experience of the world, I purchased happiness for many; but thinking of myself in the way the Scriptures look at money, I could not help acknowledging that I was one of the off-shoots of the great root of all evil, for men have lost honor and women virtue to obtain me; and once within their possession, I was heartlessly exchanged by the one for that which is not bread, or by the other for the gaudy finery which neither giveth pleasure nor addeth beauty. But on the other hand, I had many happy experiences, for again and again 1 have been spent in a righteous cause, and when I have become a medium of virtuous happiness, I have congratulated myself upon the consciousness that even while it was my fate to be the property of the unjust as well as the just, I could bring pleasure and happiness to worthy hearts and homes. During those two years of active service, I felt the hard rough grasp of the miser, the charitable hand of the philan- thropist, the soft dimpled fingers of childhood, the rash, loose grasp of youth, and the fipn, but not unyielding pressure of age, and I could truly say with Shakespeare’s Iago that I had been “slave to thousands.” You will, therefore, not be surprised when I -tell you that at the end of two years I had been carried into almost* every state in the Union; but one autumn night when the rain was coming down in torrents, the wind howling dismally among the naked trees, and the lightening dancing across the sky, I was lost by a drunken reveller and fell into a large puddle of muddy water. I sank to the bottom, and the fair face of Liberty was besmirched in such a manner as ill became that honored virgin, while the wings of the eagle were so bedraggled that I heartily pitied the noble bird. But morning brought relief, for I was noticed by a young man crossing the street, and having fished me out of the water, he wiped the mire from the brow of the goddess and relieved the proud eagle from his humiliating plight. The young man’s face wore a puzzled expression and he ex- amined me very closely. It was evident that he had noticed the 3 * monogram upon my face, and he seemed to make a mental reso- lution of some nature. He almost looked me out of countenance before he resigned me to the inmost recesses of his capacious purse. Then he turned down a street and entered the halls of the college, and thus I learned that my new master was a stu- dent. He studied diligently all afternoon and late into the night, but the dozen strokes of the college clock warned him to retire. This he did, but before retiring he showed me to his room mate, who had also been up late at his books, and told him where he found me. They made many surmises as to how those initials happened to be upon my face. “At any rate,” said Clarence Urban, my new master, “I’ll keep it for a pocket piece, for it’s certainly very odd.” So my fate was decided, and I have never regretted the accident which made me the pocket piece of Clarence Urban. Next morning the young men awoke with the dawn, and as they are taking a last peep at their text books before going to the recitation room, I will try to describe them to you; for as Miss Alcott says in her immortal “Little Women,” “Young readers like to know how people look,” and while she makes use of the adjec- tive young, I think that all readers have the same weakness. Clarence Urban’s surroundings when we left him at the Mint have already been described, but I have waited u'ntil the present moment to give you a sketch of his personal appearance. He was a tall, well-proportioned young fellow, with the muscles of a Hercules and the brow of an Apollo. His face was a noble one. An olive complexion relieved by a black mustache and very expressive brown eyes made Clarence Urban an enviable target for Cupid’s darts, but so far he had been proof against these missiles, and seemed to be entirely wrapped up in his col- lege work and in his room mate, whom I will now introduce to you as a delicate young man of twenty-three, Robert Howard by name. He was not so strong physically as his friend, and his form was too fragile for a man’s. His hair rivalled the raven’s plumage in its glossy blackness, and his eyes were black diamonds. His smooth, classic features showed traces of unre- mitting study. Altogether he did not deceive his looks. He was 33 a hard student, but happy withal, and many a pleasant hour these two yo J ung fellows spent in their room or elsewhere, for they were almost insepaiable. My master was kind hearted and liberal to a fault, and did not love a joke that was too practi- cal to be considered a joke by the one on whom it was played, but in all the innocent school boy “larks” he took a lively part. One day I remember that Clarence and some companions de- cided to play a trick upon the professor of Natural History. Procuring several kinds of bugs, they fastened the head of one to the body of another; then the legs of a third bug supplied the places of those of the one that was being “doctored,” and so on until a bug like the one they carried in to the professor was never seen in “the heavens above or on the earth beneath.” Now the professor was a near sighted man, and Clarence being the spokes-man of the crowd, walked gravely into his presence, and handing him the manufactured bug said very respectfully, “What sort of bug is this, professor?” The professor held it very close to his little gray eyes, and after affecting embarrassment for a time, said with a long-draw face/ “Why, why, I should say, young gentlemen, that this bug is a ‘hum-bug’.” Clarence and his friends were too mortified to laugh, but Clarence, disdaining to acknowledge a defeat so decisive and so apparent, bowed re- spectly to the professor and walked out of the rocm. The yells of laughter mingled with indignation rather belied his dignified exit, but I could picture to myself the professor’s satisfaction after the boys had departed. I have related this little incident to show you that Clarence was a very human fellow and liked a little nonsense as well as any of the boys. He was taking the Classical Course preparatory to a foreign tour, as his father had long promised him the trip. Robert Howard was taking a theo- logical course, and working his way through school. He taught several branches, and thus paid his tuition. Clarence had liked him from the first, and they had now been chums for the last three years and expected to graduate in the spring. They were a great deal to one another— those two young men, for the wealthy one often gave the poor one a tip in a financial way, and Howard returned the favor by helping Urban spiritually. They were 34 both book-worms. The time for commencement was drawing near, and examinations loomed omniously in the distance. The two young men did not have much time for society now, and almost every midnight found them at their books. Howard was a poet, and the professors had requested that his commence- ment address be in poetic form. Urban was a born orator, and the subject of his address was to be Our Country. These facts I gleaned from their conversations. But while serious thoughts occupied the greater part of their time and attention, the old school boy love of fun would intrude itself occasionally upon their deeper musings. One morning Clarence and Robert went together to the chapel for prayers. Both of the boys knew that some fun was on hand, but they were not apprised of its character. They soon learned the nature of the joke, however, for tied to the professor’s chair was a large sized goose, and the boys were awaiting in sup- pressed excitement the arrival of Dr. B . Urban and How- ard entered and quietly taking seats waited with as much amuse- ment as the others. Soon the familiar foot-fall was heard, and the professor entered. He proceeded toward his chair as usual, but noticing it already occupied, he remarked very quietly, “I see you are very well served, young gentlemen, very well served,” and turning quickly on his heel left the chapel, and again the boys experienced a humiliating defeat, and as far as I know, Clarence never participated in anything of the kind there- after. Now, as before mentioned, commencement was drawing near, and mingled with the thoughts of oration and poem, there came to Robert Howard’s mind doubts as to whether he would be able to purchase a new suit for the momentous affair. “True,” as he remarked to Urban, “my old one is not so very shabby, but it’s not new, you know.” Clarence replied, “No, that’s true,” very mechanically, but while his tones were not sympathetic his heart was. He was planning how he could help his friend and not offend his pride. To offer him the money would be out of the question, and might break up their friendship altogether, for Robert possessed that bug-bear to poetic minds, a very sensative nature, so Clarence did the only thing he could do then — viz nothing. But when about a week before commencement, he re- ceived from home a beautiful broadcloth dress suit, with a hand- some white tie, a diamond stud in a snowy shirt front, and every- thing complete, he examined them admiringly, but put them away saying, half aloud, “I’ll do it, though father a*d mother look icicles at me during all the exercises.” Now I had not the slightest idea what he meant by these strange remarks, but awaited developments. Graduation Day dawned bright and beautiful, and while Howard’s poem was excellent, having been approved and applauded by all the teachers, he felt and looked unhappy. “What is the matter, Howard, you look rather crest- fallen for a fellow who is honored as being the poet of the class?” Poor Howard could not control the trembling in his voice, when he said, “It’s all very nice to brag on a fellow’s paper, but it’s pretty bad to have to wear an old rusty coat and ‘shiny trousers, when all the other fellows have brand new ones and will look as though they have veritably ‘stepped out of a band-box’.” Clarence simply said, .“I am sorry for you, Rob, but don’t worry about it, you know ‘what can’t be cured, must be en- dured’.” As the time drew near for the carriages to call, How- ard rose reluctantly and brushed his raven locks, and adjusted his snowy tie. He did not say much, but finally exclaimed, “Why Urban, where’s your new suit ? You’d better hurry or you will be late. Why it’s only ten minutes until the carriage will be here.” Then Clarence placed his hand on his friend’s arm and said, “Rob, I am rich, and people will expect me to dress fashionably. Now Howard you have done me more good than any one I ever met, you have made a man out of me, and for your sake I wear this suit. The crowd will stare at me and in their surprise will quite forget you, for they know our circum- stances and expect more of me.” I wish I could bring before you a picture of Howard’s face, so pleased, so surprised, and so grateful he was, that he threw both arms around Urban’s neck and wept copiously. Urban would not permit this, however, as he did not want Howard’s eyes to look red and swollen when he “spoke his piece.” So Urban went to the commencement in id his old suit, and both young men were happy. As Urban carried me as a pocket piece, I went to the commencement also. The scene was a familiar one, the “sweet girl graduates” in their pretty gowns, the flowers, and the music lent a charm to the place that can only be appreciated by participation. After the exercises %rere over the parents and friends of the graduates thronged about them with congratulations. Clarence greeted his father and mother very cordially, but I heard them ask him al- most the first thing why he did not wear his handsome suit. To which inquiry he whispered, “I’ll tell you later, but in the mean time allow me to introduce to you, mamma, my best friend and room mate, Mr. Howard.” The ceremony of introduction being over, they all repaired to a fashionable hotel where the elder Ur- bans were stopping, and of course Howard accompanied them. At dinner the merits of the orations were discussed, and many pleasant topics touched upon until Howard was quite at his ease. Mr. and Mrs. Urban began to understand why Clarence admired the pale yoilng ecclesiastic so much. After dinner Clarence saw that his belongings were all placed in the vehicle which was to convey them to the station, and then he and Robert had a long farewell talk. Robert was to remain at the college for some weeks, and was then to take charge of a congregation. His last words to Clarence were, “I shall never forget this day, Clarence, for owing to your kindness, I was saved from the most humilia- ting of experiences.” Clarence pressed his hand in silence, and then boarded the train with his parents, who gave Robert a cor- dial invitation to visit them. After the Urbans had entered the train which was to bear them homeward, Mrs. Urban again asked Clarence why he appeared in his old suit instead of the ap- propriate one she had taken such pleasure in buying. Then Clarence poured forth his little story with such gentle pathos that tears stood in his mother’s eyes, and she said very low and sweet, “That was right, Clarence, and I’m glad you did it;” but Mr. Urban seemed displeased though he said nothing. However the trip was a pleasant one. When they alighted from the coach a colored servant accosted them and escorted them to a hand- some carriage. Entering this they were driven swiftly away. 37 On the outskirts of the city they entered the massive iron gates of the Urban premises. The park was extensive, and well kept, the gravel walks were shaded by the leafy arches of the graceful trees. The grass was fresh mown and velvety, and flowers freighted the air with their perfume. A fountain lifted its rain- bow spray in the center of the lawn, and the picture reminded one of fairy land. Especially was this true on account of the occasional glimpses of the gray stone mansion in the distance. All the way up the gravel drive Clarence expressed his satis- faction and delight at the improvements that had been made in his absence. Soon the entrance of the house came in sight, and he scarcely waited for the carriage to stop, before he sprang to the ground and ran up the marble steps. However he waited for his parents and they all entered together. From subsequent glimpses I obtained of the Urban mansion, I am now able to give you some idea of its magnificence. The floor of the hall was composed of black and white marble blocks, . highly polished and very beautiful. All along this hall were doors leading into richly furnished apartments. But when Clarence entered his home, he did not pause here, but hastened along the hall until he came to a massive staircase, built of antique oak, and richly carved. This he ascended, and hurrying along the upper hall, which was similar to the one just men- tioned, except that it was covered with velvet carpet, he entered his own room. At the entrance he gave an unconscious excla- mition of surprise, for it had been newly furnished and every- thing was in the best of order. He entered and sank into the depths of a crimson velvet chair, quite overcome with the ex- ertions of the. previous day and the excitement of the morning. While he sat there he took out his purse, and in looking through it, happened to notice me. He took me in his hand and again scrutinized the initials upon my face, and while he held me thus, I took a survey of the room. It was a large airy apartment with a double bay window in front. Before this window were hung ex- quisite lace draperies. The furniture was of oak and the bed was hung with silken curtains. Over the magnificent mantel hung a life-sized portrait of his mother, and on the mantel several rare vases ahd articles of bric-a-brac Were artistically arranged. In an alcove of the room were his books in an elegant case half co ncealed by silken curtains. Sleepy-hollow chairs were scattered carelessly about the room, and altogether the room was in perfect keeping with its handsome occupant. But even amidst all this beauty he murmered half audibly, “It’s all beauti- ful, but I’m so lonesome without Howard. He was my inspira- tion, my solace, my own true friend. How can I go abroad and see all the beauty of the Orient and leave him to work his life out at that college.” He sat studying deeply for a few moments, then jumping up as if suddenly inspired, he paced the room ner- vously exclaiming “I’ll do it, by George, I will, and then my journey will be a thoroughly happy one.” With this exclamation he threw his purse unclosed upon the bed, and began to prepare for dinner; and as his mother had told him that some guests were expected, he arrayed himseif as became the occasion, and when he had finished and surveyed himself in the long French glass mirror, I thought to myself, if I were a man, I would be another Urban, but being only a silver dollar, I was proud to be his pocket piece. After a few moments spent in putting the last touches to his immaculate attire, he closed his purse and putting it into his pocket descended to the drawing room. Here he was greeted with delighted exclamations from the lips of several young ladies; and if Clarence Urban had not been sensible as well as handsome, he would certainly have been badly spoiled. I shall not attempt to describe the details of the dinner, nor the several events of the next few weeks. I learned very shortly after my entrance into the Urban home that the first week of June had been set for the departure of Clarence. One day dur- ing a talk between father, mother and son, Clarence made known to them a darling plan which he had cherished for some days. What he said was substantially this. He requested that he might be allowed to take with him his old college mate, Robert How- ard. “It will be the very making of Rob mentally and physi- cally, for he is sadly in need of a change, poor fellow, and the aid he would acquire mentally would help him beyond measure. I am willing to pay his expenses for I know his company will be 39 invaluable.” Now Mr. Urban was proud of his handsome son, but his was that false pride that leadeth to destruction. He wanted his boy to shine and desired him to choose his compan- ions among the rich and the great. He had never approved of the friendship between his son and young Howard, but held his peace until the present moment. But now “fierce he broke forth,” “What, do you wish that miserable pauper to go with you on your European trip? I believe in philanthropy, but really Clarence this is too much. Why not choose some man of your own rank, one whose father can count his thousands as yours can? Such a youth would indeed be a worthy companion of our Clarence, but this fellow with whom you would share your good fortune, and even pay his expenses, has no standing whatever in the financial world, and is certainly not your equal in any re- spect.” At the beginning of this unexpected harangue Clar- ence’s brown eyes opened wide with astonishment, but surprise soon changed to anger, and by the time his father had finished, Clarence’s face was white and set, and his eyes were dangerous to behold. In spite of his manful efforts not to upbraid his father, his intense love for Robert proved too much for him, and he re- sented the insult to his friend with emphasis. Then remember- ing his mother’s presence, he lowered his voice and speaking in subdued, but angry tones, he pleaded his cause so eloquently to his father that Mr. Urban, much against his will, was obliged to give his consent. Clarence forgave him on the spot, for even a reluctant promise of this kind was better than none. Hastily ex- cusing himself, he fairly flew up the broad staircase and seeking his own room secured writing material, and the sound of the pen fairly racing aver the paper was all that could be heard for some minutes. He then rang for a servant and when the maid ap- peared dispatched her at once for his mother. Mrs. Urban was not long in answering the summons, and Clarence pushing a chair towards her,. begged her to listen while he read the letter he had just written. 40 New York, May 15, 18 — My Dear Rob: — Since my return from college, I have been busily engaged in preparations for my trip. Everything is being done for me, but all along I have felt that I cannot enjoy myself alone, and the only companion with whom I could be happy is you, my dear fellow, and therefore I write you today to offer you a free trip to Europe and back, if you will only go with me. You will be con- ferring a great favor upon me by accepting this invitation at once. Don’t be proud and imagine you are accepting charity. My motives are not philanthropic but selfish. The truth is I can’t go without you. I await your reply with anxiety, and shall expect an answer by return mail. Remember , no excuse will be accepted. Your old friend, Clarence Urban. When Clarence finished reading, he asked his mother’s opinion of the letter, and she told him that he could not have ex- pressed it more delicately. Then drawing Clarence to her kissed him tenderly, saying, “My precious boy, what a treasure you are! What a consolation to me. God has certainly been very good to me to give such a son. May your whole life be filled with deeds like this, and may I always have cause to be proud of my precious boy.” And so she would have gone on had not the modest heart of the young man told him not to listen to the fond emulation of this indulgent little mother. He interrupted her, saying, “now mamma, don’t spoil me with so much flattery. Why, in my de- sire to have Rob with me I am just as selfish as I can be. The truth is I feel so dependent upon him, that it would give me no pleasure to go without him. He has make a Christian out of me, and I want his help all the time to keep me in the rightway.” This was evidently the first time he had spoken to his mother of his new life, for she looked up in glad surprise as he said these words, and then said reverently, “my prayers are answered. My boy is a Christian, and next to God I have to thank that noble young Howard.” Thus mother and son sat together in sweet contentment, the dark head leaning protectingly over the 4i silvery one, and the strong young arm thrown lovingly around the drooping shoulders. The dinner bell broke in upon their reveries like an unwelcome guest, and quickly sealing and stamp- ing his letter, Clarence offered his arm to his mother and they descended the stairway together. Clarence paused a moment to hand his letter to a servant with directions that it be mailed at once, and then mother and son proceeded to the dining room. ^ ^ ^ > 1 < A few days later Clarence read the following letter to his mother : My Dear Urban: — Would that I could fittingly express my feelings upon read- ing your letter. I have always hoped to go to Europe sometime, but little dreamed that I was so soon to see the fruition of my cherished hopes. How truly a friend you are, Urban ! I should hesitate to accept this invitation did I not know you so well, but from you I am proud to accept a gift which I can never repay. My mother is in Vienna. She sailed about a year ago as chaperon to a young lady who is a medical student there. I am not acquainted with her, but it will be so delightful to meet mamma over there. I am in raptures Clarence, and you are the happy cause. I will write you soon again, but in the mean time accept my most cordial thanks for your lion-hearted lib- erality. Good-bye, and God bless you. Sincerely Robert Howard. Mrs. Urban liked the letter very much, and thus it was all settled. The sixth of June was fixed upon as the time of de- parture, and from that time forward all was bustle and confusion. Once when driving with his mother Clarence opened his purse for some reason and in so doing noticed me, and pointing to the initials upon my face said, “mamma here is a dollar I found one morning while at school, and the odd part of it is that it has somebody’s monogram engraved upon it. I think the letters are M. H. It struck me as being odd, and I have carried it ever 42 since as a pocket piece.” Mrs. Howard looked at me carefully and told Clarence to keep me for “good luck.” Clarence promised to do so, and so my fate was settled. When Clarence and his mother reached home he found a letter informing him that his friend would be with him the following day. The meet- ing of the friends was of the most cordial nature, but not of suffi- cient importance to describe in detail As Robert had never been in New York City, the few days which still remained before they were to take their departure were occupied in visiting the places of interest in the great American Metropolis. At last the day arrived and both Mr. and Mrs. Urban ac- companied the young men to the dock. Mr. Urban was the same as usual — calm, dignified, self-possessed, and shook hands with Clarence as carelessly as though he were going to see him again in a week’s time. On the other hand Mrs. Urban endeavored in vain to restrain her tears. But the hour for farewells had now arrived, and a few moments only remained before the time set for the departure of the vessel. CHAPTER V. THE VOYAGE. Mr. and Mrs. Urban accompanied the boys on board the ves- sel and saw their state room, which was a very cosy apartment ; and Clarence said that he did not believe the voyage such a dreadful thing as he had always imagined would be. Soon the ringing of a bell warned those who were not going out to leave the vessel, and in a few moments Clarence had seen the last of his parents, and at first felt rather blue; but Robert cheered him up by mentioning the wonderful sights they were to see on the other side, and by the time the vessel had reached the open sea, the young men were intensely interested in everything pertaining to their temporary home. A ship is a world in itself, and the people are not long in becoming acquainted. So very soon Clarence and Robert had made the acquaintaince of some very pleasant young ladies and some intelligent gentlemen, from whom they learned much in regard to the customs of the people across the sea. The vessel upon which they had taken passage was an English ship. In the course of a few hours the young men began to notice each other, and Clarence said to Robert, “Rob, what on earth is the matter? You are as pale as a sheet.” To which Rob replied in making a similar remark in regard to Clarence. At first they were some- what surprised, but soon discovered that these were the signs by which Neptune was reminding them that he was inexorable in his demands for homage, and they were soon obliged to render him a reluctant offering. Being independent to the back-bone, this assumption of power upon the part of the old sea god ruffled their spirits considerably and rendered them decidedly sea sick. Both declared that they wished they had never started and re- paired to the state room in high dudgeon. Here they remained 44 for hours, and even the supper bell failed to awaken any life in them. After the first day or two out they became accustomed to their new surroundings and were sick no more during the voyage and soon Robert began to wax poetical; but at the end the fourth day the sea began to grow rough, and the vessel was tossed to and fro like a mere toy. A dreadful storm followed soon after, but as Howard told the story in rhyme, and read it aloud to his fellow passengers just as Ireland came in sight, I will give you the poem instead of telling it in my own prosy prose. “Our vessel is a floating isle By steam’s enchantress moved along, A world sufficient in itself, Unfettered, buoyant, brave and strong. The transient dwellers on our isle Were strangers ere we put to sea, But now as friends we recognise A common bond — humanity. Last eve the murky clouds hung low And hid the heavens from our sight The lanterns on the silent deck Threw out a strange, unearthly light. Cold breathed Boreas stalked the wave, Bach step a dreadful tremor caused Until he reached the trembling ship He did not slack his pace nor pause. And we, poor creatures of the earth, Prayed to the Lord of Gallilee, But added ‘If it be Thy will Bor us to die, so let it be.’ The waves, by fierce Boreas lashed Reared snowy heads above the mast, And now his hoarse, demoniac laugh Rose mockingly upon the blast. And joining in the frightful mirth Thor raised his thunderous voice on high, And zig-zag gleams of awful light Held carnival throughout the sky. Our captain’s sea-bronzed face grew white As foam upon the billows tossed, And from his pallid, bloodless lips We heard him mutter, ‘We are lost.’ But as the echoes of his voice Grew faint and slowly died away, We saw a glimpse of faint gray light Betokening the birth of day. The ocean still in frantic throes Was roaring loudly ’round the ship And every moment now we thought That Of her cargo it would strip. In dread suspense we watched and prayed And watched the waves all capped with foam, And then at last Boreas turned And slowly sought his northern home. And then we dropped upon our knees And thanked the Eord of wind and wave, Because from wat’ry, woeful graves, He in his mercy chose to save. And now we’re drawing near the port, The Emerald Isle before us lies, Her fields are green, her flowers are bright And azure are the summer skies. We soon shall leave our transient home On earth perhaps to never meet, But let us hope that by and by, With voice ecstatic we shall greet Each other in the heavenly port Toward 'which we’re sailing o’er life’s sea, And when she lands, I hope that all Of us upon her deck may be.” Before going ashore the young men exchanged their money for foreign coins, and I was in terror lest I shall be exchanged with the rest of Urban’s money and thus Jose my golden or rather my silvern opportunity of visiting the countries we were now rap- idly approaching. But when Urban took the money out of his 46 purse, he looked at me and then put me back, saying, “I guess 1*11 not part with this dollar ; I’ve kept it so long for a pocket piece, that I do not care to lose it.” So back I went into his purse with shillings, florins, sixpence, pennies, half-pennies, etc., and hence- forth the fortunes of my master and myself are so closely allied that in giving my own history I shall be under the pleasant neces- sity of relating the greater part of his ; but as he was a very enter- taining young gentleman, and as we visited almost every point of interest in the British Isles and on the Continent, perhaps the story of our mutual adventures will not prove quite so foreign to my theme as 3^011 may now suppose. CHAPTER VI. “THE EMERALD ISLE." With the exception of the fear occasioned by the storm, tht voyage was a pleasant one; but it was with a sense of relief that my master and his friend caught sight of the distant shores of Ireland. The steamer’s destination was Queenstown, and here they first set foot upon the shores of the old world. There being nothing of importance or of peculiar interest here, we hastened on to Cork. A very short ride brought us to that city, and after leaving the train, the young men were be- seiged by a , band of individuals whom in America they would have called “cabbies,” but who in Ireland are known as the drivers of jaunting cars, and these vehicles lined the street for a long distance. The jaunting car is a distinctly Irish convej^ance and is seen no place else excepting on that island. It is a two-wheeled affair, and the seats hang over the wheels. Those who ride on them do not face the front of the vehicle but their faces are toward the sides, and their feet are just above the wheels. The driver assumes a position similar to our own drivers, having a separate seat in front of the car. Clarence and Robert secured one of these vehicles, and being warned of these drivers, before leaving home, they made the bargain with him before starting, thus giving me an opportunity to see the queer little carriage just described. They were driven to the Victoria Hotel and secured pleasant rooms for the night. Next morning they strolled through the streets of Cork, but did not find much to please them. It being strawberry time they purchased a basket of this fruit, and when eating it, Clarence laughingly remarked that it was the first time in his life he ever made “two bites out of one strawberry.” Next morning Clarence and Robert determined to visit Blar- ney Castle. Consequently they inquired of their host which would be the best way to reach the castle. Having his own pe- culiar reasons (which it is needless to say were of a mercenary nature) for so doing, he recommended a carriage. Being ignorant of the city, they were about to take his advice, when an American who was also stopping at the Victoria and who had heard their conversation, called Clarence aside and informed him that it was not necessary to go to the expense of a carriage, as there was a tram-way not far distant over which they could ride comfortably and cheaply to the castle. Thanking the man for this friendly “tip,” the young men started in quest of the tram- way, the terminus of which was not far distant. Entering a car they seated themselves, and as they were not very talkative during the ride, I judged that there was nothing of particular interest to be seen along the way. But when the old castle rose before them, they were talkative enough. From their remarks and from a glimpse I had of it when Clarence opened his purse at one time, I learned that Blarney Castle is a square stone pile about eighty feet high whose moss grown walls are occasionally pierced by small irregular windows. A battlement surmounts the tower, which is supported by small buttresses placed at regu- lar intervals. Between two of these is the famous Blarney stone, made prominent by two iron bars attached to it, both on the in- side and out. When Clarence and Robert entered the castle they came into an open court and ascended a stairway. When they arrived at the top, they found the space around the walls was about six feet wide, and at the edge of this and a little below it was the Blarney stone. The two young men submitted to being held by the heels and the small of their backs while kissing the famous stone. Both seemed very much elated, and Robert said that he trusted his future congregations would be kept awake by the eloquence which he had no doubt he should now possess, for “you know,” he continued, “the old Irish poet, Father Trout, says — ‘There’s a stone there that who-e’er kisses. Sure, he never misses, To become eloquent,’ 49 And who would dare doubt the truth of the old Irish stanza here upon the Emerald Isle and in plain view of the stone itself?” “Who indeed ?’ said Clarence, and so they started back to Cork with light hearts and merry jests. After returning to Cork, they gathered together their few be- longings and hastened on to Bantry, a small country town, whose houses are very low, and whose general appearance is anything but inviting. But at that time the annual cattle market was in progress, and this was of interest to my master and his friend simply because it was a novelty. A large hollow square was re- served for the Fair and this was crowded to its utmost limits with cows, sheep and pigs. As Clarence and Robert were com- pelled to pass through this market to reach their hotel, they soon found that looking at the market from the outside and passing through it in a carriage were two separate and dis- tinct pursuits and they were glad indeed when they were safely through it. In Bantry they remained but a short time and then took a conveyance called a “diligence” to Glengariff. I would have given anything to have been permitted to see the beauties of nature which spread themselves out in panoramic array all along the road, but not once during the journej^ did I get a peep outside of Urban’s pocket. I, however, had several glimpses of Glengariff itself, for Clarence was called upon not infrequently to relieve me of my English monetary companions. Glengariff is not a town but a site, and takes its name from a ravine over which a stream falls into the bay. Reaching there in the evening, the young men sought lodg- ing at one of the hotels, which was really the most important in- stitution of the place. Deciding upon one of these as their transient home, they retired for the night. The next morning they walked out a little distance from Glengariff to see the ruins of Cromwell’s Bridge. When they came in sight of the de- molished bridge so noted for its wild picturesqueness, Robert said, “Do you know why this is called ‘Cromwell’s Bridge’?” To which Urban replied, “Haven’t the slightest idea. Do you know?” “Yes” replied Robert, “I have read that when Crom- well passed here in 1649, he found that the natives of the place had torn down the bridge which crossed the Canrooska, in anticipation of his coming. This roused his ire to blood heat and he ordered them to rebuild the bridge and added by way of in- centive that he would ‘hang one for every hour of delay.’ These ruins,” continued Robert, “are a silent evidence of the fact that his orders were carried out, for as I have read somewhere the country people .said ‘they knew the old rascal was good at keep- ing his word’.” “How interesting that is,” exclaimed Clarence, “and what a romantic old spot it is to be sure. See that rugged tree yonder spreading its delicate branches out like a lady’s fan, and note what a perfect reflection the water gives of the emerald beauty all around. By George, Rob, for once I envy you your gift at rhyming, but as I can’t compose poetry, I’m going to do something I can do naturally and that is take a wade in this water.” That Robert was also in favor of the diversion was evi- denced by the fact that Clarence hardly preceded him a half min- ute in getting off his shoes and wading in the water. For half an hour the young men were boys again and splashed around deliciously in the cool water, and then they returned to terra firma, and putting on their shoes returned to Glengariff and civilization. The afternoon was spent in-doors because of a heavy rain storm, and the time was employed in letter writing. Next morning they secured a jaunting-car and drove all around Ford Kenmare’s place. The drive was three miles in length and was shaded the whole way by the umbrageous branches of graceful trees. Many beautiful things were seen by my master and his friend among which was Muckross Abbey — a sombre looking old pile, half hidden by the glossy ivy, and an ideal old place for a romantic loving nature like Howard’s. They did not explore the “hidden recesses” but were content to view the exterior. Farther on the “Meeting of the Waters” filled them with de- light. At that point three streams unite and flow away to. the sea. A rustic bridge spans the waters at their junction, and on either side the banks are covered with a rich luxuriance of shrubs and grasses. The graceful branches touched the water here and there and seemed like sylvan faries leaning over to catch sight of their reflections in the watery mirror below. As they drove on they soon came to a wooden door which they were informed was the entrance to The Tore Falls, called “wonderful” by their Irish guide. Being deeply impressed by his flowery descriptions of the “thundering waters,” they de- scended from the car, and paying the door keeper a sixpence, they entered the enclosure. For some time they wandered about, neither seeing norhear- ing anything of the cataract, but finally Clarence, who led the way, discovered a very scanty stream of water slowly trickling over some rocks, making about as much noise as a tea kettle, and these the guide informed them were the Tore Falls. At first they stood in silence as though deeply impressed by the marvelous sight, and then with a sarcastic smile, Clarence ex- claimed “Is that all?” The guide exhibited extreme surprise and chagrin at the lack of sensibility manifested by my master, and was further discomfitted by hearing them both burst into such a hearty laugh that he feared hysterics would result. Finally Clarence acknowledged to Rob in a whisper that they were “sold,” and both returned to the jaunting car and their journey with a very high opinion Irish blarney. After returning from the drive, they ate dinner and retired early. Next morning they took a coach for Killarney. This town is situated about a mile from the northern shore of Loch Leane, which is the southmost of the three lakes of Killarney. It is five and a half miles long and three wide at the broadest point. Connected with it by two narrow straits is Lake Tore or Muck- ross, and west of this is the Upper Lake two and one half miles long by one and one-half broad. The boys remained among these lakes for some days. One delightful feature of this trip was a boat ride on the Upper Lake, which they considered the most beautiful of the three. When Clarence took out a shilling to pay the boat-man I had an opportunity of judging for myself of the truth of the statements the young men made in regard to the lovliness all about them, and I am sure that it would be far be- yond the limits of the vocabulary of a silver dollar even to approach to an adequate description of the Lakes of Killarney. Robert remarked that the limpid lakes spread out before them suggested to him the thought that they were the mirrors of the giants (the mountains) who surrounded them like soldiers on every side, and the banks suggested emerald frames, quaintly carved by the artistic hand of nature. Clarence has since declared in my presence that the lakes of Killarney, are in his opinion, the most beautiful in the world. The boys were annoyed by beggars of all ages, and very often Clarence opened his purse during their trip through the lakes, much to my delight (for at these times I always got a peep of the scenes outside) but he did not seem so pleased, for he opened his wallet more reluctantly every time. From Killarney Robert and Clarence went to Dublin. After securing rooms at a hotel the boys began to talk over the best course of proceeding for the few days they had alloted to the Irish capital. “Suppose,” said Clarence, “that we visit Phoenix Park tomorrow.” Robert approved of the plan and accordingly the next day found them in Phoenix Park which they reached by means of a carriage. They took a lunch with them and made a long day of it. Phoenix Park contains over 17,000 acres of land, and possesses rare and exquisite beauty. Great elms rear their majestic trunks and form shady nooks and delightful picnic grounds for the never ceasing throng of visitors who enter its gates. Golden eyed daisies smile from the velvety green here and there, and deer roam at will through the splendid, undulating meadows. It is, aside from being a pasture or a flower garden, a mili- tary training ground where the soldiers drill. Besides the regu- lar soldiers, a number of Scotch soldiers are kept here at all times. The uniforms of the Scotchmen are wonderful to behold. They appear bare-kneed, with red and black stockings rolled back half way up their legs, white cloth gaiters, fastened by streamers of red woolen ribbon; a plaited kilt or skirt of blue and green tartan, blue cap with’ heron’s wing, white shoulder straps, a pouch of goatskin and undress jacket of white cloth. For full dress they wear a scarlet jacket with yellow collar. The checked plaid is fastened cros.s-wi.se over the shoulder and falls behind, 53 being secured on top by a brooch of the national emblem — the thistle. Clarence and Robert were much amused at these last troops on account of the gaiety of their attire, and wondered how they would look in time of war, but as they turned to go back to the hotel, Clarence remarked that he would much prefer to see a company of our own boys in blue, and I thought so too, for as I carry the American eagle with me always, I could scarcely fail to be true to the country over which that noble bird spreads its wings so proudly. Again at the hotel the boys discussed the events of the day, and it is from their conversation that I gleaned the few facts I have given you in regard to Phoenix Park. St. Patrick’s church was visited next morning. Here lie the remains of Dean Swift who wrote his own epitaph — “Ubi saeva indignatio ulterius cor lacerare nequit.” (‘‘Where the fierce hatred of another can not wound the heart.”) By the side of Swift’s tomb there hangs a marble tablet in- scribed to the memory of Miss Hester Johnson whom he calls “Stella” in his writings. My master lingered long before these tombs, and then passed on to view a statue of St. Patrick in an obscure corner and other things of lesser note. After leaving St. Patrick’s they repaired to the Church of Christ where many interesting relics were seen. Robert re- marked as they were passing through this church that he wished the Archbishop of Dublin, after the reformation, had not robbed it of the many interesting and valuable relics then within its walls. “What were they?” asked Clarence, who was already con- gratulating himself upon having such a well read companion as Robert. “Well, I cannot tell you about all of them, but one thing I should have liked to have seen was the Baculum Jesu. This was a staff, set with precious stones, and which they claim was once the property of Jesus Christ, and while we of course do not credit the story, we may believe that it was carried by St. Patrick (as his followers relate) during his many wanderings. This and other relics were burned, however; and there is not much of in- terest here now for me,” concluded Robert. “Thanks, old boy,” 54 exclaimed Clarence heartily, “I told you it was selfishness upon my part that led me to ask you to come with me, and now you see that I spoke the truth. You are a regular walking encyclo- pedia, an animated unabridged dictionary, a ” “There, let up a little, will you,” expostulated Robert. “It’s almost lunch time and we had better make the best of our way back to the hotel." All the way from St. Patrick to Christ church the boys alter- nately uttered exclamations of mingled pity, surprise, and disgust at the almost indescribable squalor they be held onevery hand, and hidden as I was in the inmost recesses of Urban’s pocket, there reached me at intervals odors that, to say the least, I was uncomfortably conscious did not come from the spicy heart of a damask rose. Clarence wrote that night to his mother, and afterwards read his letter aloud to Robert, and this is what he told her about that street, “Why, mamma, they actually offer meat for sale that a re- spectable dog in America would refuse. I never saw such filth and wretchedness in all my life. The woman are the most pitable and disgusting looking creatures I ever saw. None of them wear clothes that were made for them, and as for cleanliness — ye gods! A laundry man would be compelled to make an assignment if he had the courage to begin business. Flower girls there are in plenty, but the flowers they offer have long since lost both their fragrance and their beauty, but as open begging is forbidden this is the covert way in which they do it. Of course no one cares for the flowers, but these girls will fol- low you and give you no peace until you toss them a penny, or more if you feel so inclined. I confess that I didn’t.”' With this extract from Clarence’s letter, we will bid farewell to “dirty Dublin,” and hasten on to Belfast. We reached this city by means of a steam railway. Robert was especially desirous of seeing Belfast, for it was the battle- ground of Catholicism and Protestantism, and he wanted to learn all he could about the two factions, but I am not prepared to tell you his peculiar cullings in that direction. I did not see much of the city but what I did see, was sufficient to convince me that Clarence and Robert were wholly justified in their remarks in 55 favor of Belfast in comparison with Dublin. The streets of the former city are broad and clean and its shops are inviting in their appearance. Its houses are brick covered with stucco, and the windows instead of being hung with old petticoats as they were in Dublin, are shaded by handsome Venetian blinds. These pre- vent you from viewing the interiors which the boys discovered by occasional cautious peeps through door-ways, were well kept and cosy. “Belfast” remarked Clarence to Robert, “is noted, is it not, as being a very religious town?” “Yes,” answered Robert, “and so it is in outward appearances at least, and at all events it is rather more pious than Dublin.” At this bit of sarcasm both laughed heartily and entered a handsome shop where Clarence purchased a dozen linen handkerchiefs for his mother, for which he paid the modest sum of ten shillings. Robert looked at the beautiful kerchiefs admiringly and then a wistful look came into his eyes, but he said nothing. Clarence who could read the thoughts of his friend like the pages of an open book, knew at once that he was wishing that he could buy a similar gift for his mother. And turning to the shop keeper, he remarked that he “believed he would take another dozen just like the first.” After leaving the shop, he gave one package to Robert saying, “Send that to your mother with my compliments.” Robert thanked Clarence very kindly, but the look in his eyes spoke thanks more eloquent than ever his tongue could utter. In looking over their route that night Clarence remarked that the “Giants’ Causeway” was the next point of interest, For this point we started next morning taking the steam cars as far as Port Rush, which is the terminus of that mode of travel. There they boarded the electric car which runs between Port Rush and the Causeway. I will now describe the Causeway to you as well as I can from glances snatched at intervals. Before reaching the Causeway we passed Dunlace Castle, situated far above and with one room hanging over the sea. Its appearance is stern and severe. The block of basalt upon which it is erected rises almost perpendicularly a hundred feet above the sea. Robert made voluminous verses upon this castle, but as 5 ^ they failed to charm even the indulgent ear of Clarence, I shall not venture to inflict them upon you. After passing Dunlace, the sea is lost to sight, and shortly after two hotels came in sight. We we now at the Causeway. A short distance from the hotels, we entered a little boat in the creek Portnabo. The boatmen kept up an incessant chatter' and told innumerable stories con- nected with the place. It would be neither pleasant nor profitable to describe at length or in detail the various points of interest to be seen at the Giants’ Causeway, but I shall mention one or two experiences. We first entered the cave of Dunkerry. The open- ing of this cave is a perfect arch and the interior is dark and dis- mal. It is six hundred feet long and ninety-five feet high. But while it was all very curious and interesting, Clarence declared that he never was so glad to get out of any place in his life. The Causeway received its name from a tradition which is to the effect that in the days of old the Giants desired to go across to Fingall’s Cave and decided to bridge the narrow strait by means of solid stone columns fitted compactly into each other. The guide told the boys that for some reason or other the old Titans got tired of the job but this was the work they had commenced. Three tongues of rock extend out into the water known respect- ively as the Small, the Middle, and the Grand Causeways. At one place the rocks resemble the pipes of an immense organ, and hence the group has been fancifully named the “Giants’ Organ.” Another formation is known as the “Honey Comb.” The columns become gradually shorter and finally form an inclined pavement which extends to the water’s edge. The heads of these five, six and seven sided columns fit so closely into each other as to form a compact pavement. In this vicinity Clarence and Robert sat in the wishing chair or Ladies’ chair, and made three wishes which their guide told them would be “sure to come true.” Three old women infest this spot, who have all manner of wares for sale, and to stop their chatter Clarence purchased some cheap trinkets, and it was when he paid for these that I caught a glimpse of the chair, the seat of which is curiously formed out of one of the rocks while several others a little taller form the back and sides. 57 These are only a few of the sights to be seen at this place, but it would be unbecoming in me, a silver dollar, to endeavor to describe this spot which men and women have made famous with their pens. Robert, however, was more presumptuous than myself and composed a few stanzas about the Causeway which I shall take the liberty of inserting at this point. “ ‘THE GIANTS’ CAUSEWAY.’ See yonder mass of columned stone, So like an organ that we list To hear a loud and thunderous peal Roll upward with the morning mist. And see the Honey Comb hard by, Where Titan bees their sweets distilled, And where, perchance, those ponderous men Their mammoth bowls with honey filled. And half concealed by broken rocks The Wishing Chair falls on my view, Where all who think of wishes three Feel certain that they will ‘come true.’ But while we like the fancied tale Of giants who to cross the wave, Built up this Causeway strong and wide By which to cross to Fingall’s Cave, Still we, who of a smaller race, Have learned from Nature’s open book. Beyond the mythic tales of old Adown the centuries may look And see in yonder pillared mass The handiwork of Nature there, And glimpses of the dark blue sea But make the picture doubly fair. And when from Nature we have learned That ’tis her work we now behold We Tind a more enchanting tale Than of the Titan men of old. We know the iridescent hu£s Which make the picture nobly grand Are touches of Dame Nature’s brush And fashioned by her graceful hand. And when on Nature’s work we gaze, From vaulted skies to fresh green sod, 'Tis but a step to in it all Behold the ^vork of Nature’s God,” 5