it, as he had done, through the chinks in the wall. We followed his lead, and our eyes soon witnessed a sight most novel and surprising. Standing in rows in the forepart of the room were three-fourths of the children belonging to the best people of our neighborhood. These were intently gazing upon the dozen rude chairs or stools on which were ensconced as many nondescripts gotten up in the most grotesque and varied fashion, and each furnished with some sort of an instrument of noise. In front of this "Gideon's Band," costumed in flowing white wig (which my first glance assured me had once been worn by my honored ancestor) and further accoutered in a flowered-velvet vest (the property of our Dutch gardener), wielding a baton that would astonish Theodore Thomas,-stood Moses and Aaron!

Before I could speak the leader's voice announced that "de aujunse now be intertained wid de exploitshons ob de sillybrated Marmselle Jermarree, in de monstressible can-can." Immediately in one corner of the room arose a curtain (my best Paisley shawl) and with indescribable gyrations the danseuse vaulted forth. My next neighbor at the chink in the wall gave me a little tug. "Our Cassy," she whispered. "And that is my Mechlin lace collar and bow that I've spent hours in searching for. Only this morning she innocently assured me that she 'dun seed it somewhars not so mighty long time back.""

There are dances and dances; but I think this can-can of Ma'm'selle's must stand alone,

"Like Adam's recollection of his fall."

I cannot describe it. I freely confess that "monstressible" comes as near to it as anything in my poor vocabulary.

When at last the Marmselle can-canned off to her Paisley corner, the baton announced :

"Now den, dis yer lustritious jamboree company troupe gibs dis awjunse a puffawmunse in de united consut style. Min' yo', dis yers a 'ligious servis, an' de member ob de awjunse dat is sassy-moufed enuf fo' to make spo't is dun boun' to go to tawment, sho."

This in Moses and Aaron's most solemn voice, and delivered to the white children with an awe-inspiring gesture, and a fearful rolling of the eyes.

"Now, Brudder Bones, start up dat ar awkistry."

VOL. XIV.-35.

Forthwith began a direful din, neighbor Baker's Sam beating on an old tin saucepan with a broken tea-bell; friend Crane's Joe rattling two pairs of the noisiest bones; one of the performers squeaking an earsplitting accordeon; another blowing a piercing fife, and still another scraping a fiddle sadly in need of strings, with a bow equally in need of rosin, while my next neighbor's "contraband of war" stood vehemently blowing a French horn, my neighbor's particular pet and pride. This, in addition to a vocal performance of a youth who could imitate a Scotch bagpipe to perfection, came near routing the whole party of outsiders at the first, fierce blast.

All of a sudden the "awkistry" paused. "Fus brudder, gib yo' sperience," solemnly commanded Moses and Aaron.

Promptly, in a rich, sweet baritone voice, neighbor Baker's Sam sang to a chanting tune by no means at discord with his theme:

"A Mefodis, Mefodis I was bawn,
An' a Mefodis I will die.

I was babtize in de Mefodis church,
An' I eat dat Mefodis pie."

The whole troupe then joined in the chorus:

"Oh, hard try-ulls, gr-reat tribulations-
Aint dem hard try-yuls,

Suvvin ob dell law?"

"Now den, brudder Hawn!" from the baton. Upon which the blower of the French horn, in a gruff, unmusical voice, sang:

"A Babtis, a Babtis I was bawn,
An' a Babtis I will be.

I was babtize in de Babtis fait',
So go 'way an' le' me be."

Cho.-"Oh, hard try-ulls, gr-reat tribulations,” etc.

After which the baton signaled Brudder Bones, who was possessed of a fine falsetto voice, and moreover, had a gift of acting. His rendering of this "experience" was irresistibly droll:

"A Pris-be-te-rian I was bawn,

An' a Pris-be-te-rian I will be.

I was babtize in de Pris-be-te-rian fait',
An' de Pris-be-te-rian chu'ch fo' me.' "9

Then the whole troupe gesticulating animatedly at one another, sang, each on his own account:

"Yo' pull dis way, I pull dat,
We pull from do' to do,'

But ef yo' aint got dat lub in yo' haht,
De debbil will git yo', sho!

Cho.-"Oh hard try-yulls, gr-reat tribulations-
Aint dem hard try-yulls,
Suvvin ob dell law?"

After this ""ligious puffawmunse," came some wonderful and really dangerous trapeze exhibitions, at which the young and impressible "awjunse " clapped and shouted enthusiastically-the whole concluding with some acrobatic feats by special artists, and a miscellaneous performance somewhat in the style of a Memphis Mardi Gras. The baton had evidently seen something in his day.

"Awdah!" he shouted suddenly and peremptorily. "Dis high-toned jamboree company troupe hab now de satumfaction ob receibin' de conterry-booshins ob de awjunse fo' de berry hi s'perior intertainment dey hab 'fo'ded um. De awjunse, big an' little, now chalk up to de cap'n's awfus."

The children crowded into line, and filed up past Moses and Aaron, who had taken a seat and spread out a large bandanna handkerchief over his knees. As they reached him, each deposited some offering in his lap, in many cases pulling it out from under jacket or apron. I am sure that Johnny Baker never came honestly by that lace necktie of his sister Kate's, nor did Queenie

I did not wait to hear more, but, trembling with anger, darted around the house, burst open the door, and before the astonished group could comprehend the position, I wrested the "holy poker" from Moses and Aaron's hand, and with it let fall such a shower of blows upon my ancestor's white wig, as that once honored but now profaned relic had never before experienced. Moses and Aaron howled and begged, but mercy had no lodgment in my heart as long as the "holy poker" held its own.

The Jamboree troupe has never been re-organized, nor, I fear, has Moses and Aaron. As I said at the first, Moses and Aaron is the worst investment I ever made.

I.

CICERO CENTER, May 20th, 187-.

DEAR OLD FRED: So you are back again at last! It does my soul good to know it. The continent has looked quite deserted since you turned your back on it. Since your cheery old laugh died out of my ears, I have had strange misgivings regarding the wisdom of Providence; for it never was in the original order of creation that we two should dwell in separate pavilions.

I suppose you know that strange rumors are abroad about you. Your progress through the effete monarchies has, I understand, been verily a triumphal march. You have scratched the eyes of a blind nobleman (or prince, was it?) in such wise as to re-admit the broad light of heaven into his benighted Catholic soul; you have written a thesis on some polysyllabic medical subject which has made the ashes of old Hippocrates stir with envy in their urn, and performed sundry other miracles which have filled the German universities with the glory of your name. You see I have kept a friendly watch over you in spite of your silence; I know of all your far-resounding deeds, and what is more, I believe them. My faith, which, as you are aware, has always been of the mountainous sort, accepts your greatness as a fact of American history which in due time will have its place in "Bancroft" if Heaven is kind enough to spare him for another century. And even, leaving all your European achievements out of the question, you still possess a claim to greatness which our Concord sphinx has duly emphasized-I mean inconsistency; for your late career has, in my humble judgment, been an uninterrupted contradiction of the statement you had the audacity to make in your valedictory, viz. that it was the mission of America to repeat on a larger scale the blunders which have sent European republics to the deuce. If you had been consistentbut I will spare you the sermon I had intended for you, until I can deliver it with due unction in propria personá.

Now, dear Fred, the point I am coming to is this. After having sniffed so long the musty smells of the Vatican and Auerbach's "Keller" (for a little bird has sung to me that you have detected the charm of the Mephistophelean Johannisberger) a whiff of pure wholesome Ohio air is just the thing for you. It will, to use a medical metaphor, stimulate all the latent American juices in your composition, and bring you out a good sound patriotic spread-eagleist in less than a fortnight. And that fortnight you must spend with me. This point, I beg you to understand, admits of no argument. My demand is peremptory. The name of the town, I admit, does not sound very attractive (and if Europe has corrupted your Latin pronunciation and you insist upon calling it Kikero Kenter, which I hope to Heaven you wont, it is positively forbidding), but if you would kindly consent to regard me in the light of an attraction, I think you might find it endurable. By the way I took it for granted that you knew that I have lately added to my attractiveness by the introduction of the feminine element into my life, as it (I mean the element) is fond of asserting, for the purpose of protecting myself against the aggressions of the rest of its sex. May be it is

true; my modesty forbids me to decide. Now this little wife of mine, who is at this moment standing at my elbow, begs to observe that she dotes on cigar smoke (sotto voce, except in bedrooms), that she cherishes a peculiar weakness for bachelor friends, that she will ungrumblingly keep your breakfast waiting for you until noon if you dislike early hours, that (this you understand is the climax) she will not even be offended if you criticise her cooking, that in short she possesses all the virtues and accomplishments which a well-trained clergyman's spouse should possess.

L

"

I will not deny that I have some ulterior aim in asking you to make this visit. Both my wife and I are hoping that you may be induced to make your home here among us, at least for some years to come. Like all Western towns, we are of course literally deluged with doctors of every conceivable stripe and variety, most of whom are equally deficient in spelling and gentlemanly breeding. My wife, who has a talent for making herself miserable in a quiet way, once spent a whole day in debating whether in case of illness she would not prefer dying modestly and resignedly rather than have Dr. feel her pulse. For then you would have to bow to him whenever you met him in the street, you know, and stop to shake hands with him in the vestry," etc., etc. For know that this obnoxious doctor is a parishioner of mine and really a very worthy man, even though he does chew tobacco. But without flattery, Fred, there is not one among our leeches who could hold a candle to you. It is my opinion that you would sweep the field before you, and my heart would rejoice to see you making havoc in the ranks of these mediumistic charlatans and Indian quacks, and whatever else they may be called-these impostors that prey upon the credulity of our people. If none of my former arguments have had the power to move you, then look upon this journey as a crusade against quackery and charlatanism; you see it is your plain duty to come and plant the standard of medical orthodoxy among us. Until then, allow me to embrace you (metaphorically speaking) and remain your devoted friend, countryman and lover,

II.

LUTHER NORMAN.

THE above letter had the effect of rousing in the bosom of Dr. Fred Swart some of the sentiment which, since his college days, he had carefully shelved. He spent an hour or two in mental debate of his friend's proposition, and ended with packing his trunk and starting for Ohio. He had no very fixed plans for the present, and a couple of weeks spent in the genial company of his old chum were sure to do him good.

Fred Swart was a young man of about twenty-seven, with a large, well-knit, and finely proportioned frame. He gave the impression of being strong, though not athletic; his strength was that of Apollo, not Hercules. The type of his face was Teu

tonic, though softened and spiritualized by a century or more of American transplantation; and actually, a couple of generations back, it had its root in the soil of the Fatherland. The features were of a clear and decided modeling,-the brow high and well arched, the nose slightly curved, and the mouth drawn with a generous distinctness which was equally removed from sensuality and asceticism. The chin and the upper lip were covered with a full, blonde, Teutonic beard. The eyes were clear, blue, and sagacious, and with a pleasant suggestion of humor in them. On the whole, it was a strong, healthy face, such as Rubens would have delighted to draw, which Van Dyck would have been tempted to soften or sensualize, and which Fra Angelico would have pronounced to have too strong a flavor of earth in it.

As Dr. Swart emerged from his Pullman car at Cicero Center, he was received by his friend, the Rev. Mr. Norman, who was dithyrambic in his expressions of delight at seeing him.

"What a glorious old boy you are, Fred!" he exclaimed for the fifth or sixth time, as they were seated together in an open carriage, being jerked up and down over the uneven pavement. "I never felt so strongly the disadvantages of our American undemonstrativeness as I do at this moment. I should feel inclined to embrace you, if it didn't look so ridiculous. All the rest of the world looks sallow and dyspeptic by the side of your massive and genial health and good-nature. And then you always bring with you such an historical air of good breeding! I never look at your face without imagining a long procession of well-bred ancestors behind you. And here I have been living for three years seeing nothing but the angular and ungracious types which our Western civilization produces. Ah, Fred, if you would only conclude to stay with us now, we might just as well abolish our drug-shops. The daily sight of you would be enough to cure most of the disorders that flesh is heir to."

"Spare my blushes, Luther," retorted Swart, laughing (and his laugh was exactly what you would have expected from such a face and frame,-a mere audible epitome of his whole being). "The clerical cloth, I see, has not subdued your tendency to hyperbole, as I was afraid it would; and not even matrimony seems to have quelled your natural buoyancy. But how the deuce do you get on in the pulpit with your hyperbol

ical ardor? The old Luther himself, as I used to tell you, would hardly have been a match for you in that line, although I believe his intimacy with Satan and some of the other stories about him are gradually lapsing into the region of the mythical."

"You mustn't suppose that my cordiality toward you is a fair indicator of my everyday behavior," said Norman, gayly. "Moreover, I always preach from a manuscript; and any hyperbolical tendency that may be in me is duly restrained by the sobering effort of committing my thoughts to paper. And, as I have said, the sight of you rouses the boy in me again, and I promise myself many a glorious evening discussing old times with you, singing our old songs, and reviving the musical memories of former days. I suppose you play as well as

ever?"

"Rather better, I hope. I have been taking up Chopin of late, and have been attending the Gewandhaus concerts in Leipsic regularly."

"Good. There is a mine with a golden ore of pleasure. My wife, by the way is a capital musician, although she can't muster much enthusiasm for Chopin."

"Never fear; I shall do my best to convert her."

The carriage now stopped in front of the parsonage, a two-story slate-colored cottage of a nondescript architecture, in which baywindows, projecting gables, and Swiss balconies fairly ran riot. Norman dismounted first and conducted his friend over a neatly graveled garden-walk, and with fresh assurances of welcome, opened the door of his house before him. He was a tall, spare man, with dark and somewhat dreamy eyes, dark hair and a smoothly shaven face, to which the repressed beard on his chin and cheeks gave a slightly bluish tint. His dress was of the conventional clerical cut, and his whole manner and bearing had that air of gentlemanliness which pre-eminently distinguishes the clergy of his denomination. He was every inch an Episcopalian, and, I believe, cherished a well-bred, but well-concealed contempt for the noisier and less genteel religions. Although in no sense bigoted, he took care to confine his friendships and associations to his own church, while displaying at the same time considerable liberality toward those who stood outside the pale of all churches. Although ardent enough in other things, he seemed to have no taste for proselyting, and would probably have made a very indifferent mis

sionary. He liked the good things of this world, preached sensible but not very remarkable sermons, was scrupulously honorable and conscientious in all his dealings, and had fine æsthetic tastes which were the result of culture rather than of native talent. During his college days his musical enthusiasm had drawn him strongly toward Fred Swart, whose magnificent tenor had made him a sort of local celebrity. In their junior year, he and Swart had agreed to try the experiment of rooming together, and as they had proved mutually congenial, they had continued the arrangement until both were graduated. Norman prided himself on knowing a good thing when he saw it, and Swart had struck him as being the finest combination of music and manliness that had ever come within his vision. Since the day of their separation when Swart went abroad to study medicine and Norman en tered the divinity school, their correspondence had been rather desultory; but then the state of a man's affections can never be judged by the frequency of his letters; with women, I believe, the case is different, and with them the arithmetical ratio of love to letters, would at all events not be an inverse

one.

III.

A FEW days after his arrival in Cicero Center, Swart was invited by his host to accompany him to what was termed a "church sociable." It was to be the last of a long series which had extended through the winter and usually closed with the beginning of the summer vacation. The entertainment consisted of music, singing and small talk ad libitum, and frequently a little dance was improvised with the pastor's consent. Twenty-five cents was exacted from each of the gentlemen in return for a rather scanty repast of sandwiches and coffee, the proceeds of which were employed for church purposes. The present " sociable" was held at the house of Mr. Brewster, a prominent churchmember, distinguished as the founder of various short-lived insurance companies. As Doctor Swart entered with Mrs. Norman, the host advanced to greet them with that dignified suavity of demeanor which was habitual with him on state occasions, shook them cordially by the hand and made some spasmodic remarks about the pleasure he felt at seeing such rare guests under his roof, about the wonderful growth of the country, etc.

"Isn't he dreadful?" sighed Mrs. Nor

man, as they retired into the comparative privacy of a sofa-corner. And she fixed those large, handsome eyes of hers upon the doctor with such an urgent appeal for sympathy that he could not find it in his heart to withhold it.

"Well, he is not attractive," he responded, somewhat guardedly.

The lady's face brightened. Crossing her hands in her lap and leaning forward in that peculiarly feminine attitude of confidence, she cast a reconnoitering glance around the room and continued in a tone of sympathetic distress.

"Do you know, Doctor, Lew wont allow me to criticise any of the queer people here at all. He always tells me that they are so worthy, and the queerer they act the surer he is that they have some exceptional Christian graces to compensate for their oddity. Now, if I had only happened to think of it before I married him, I should have stipulated that I was to have absolute liberty in finding fault with my neighbors, that is, of course, in a good-humored way. It takes half the spice out of life, if you are to be so dreadfully conscientious and shut your eyes to all the funny things you happen to notice. When I come home from a party of this sort, I like to talk over the people I have seen, but Lew always ruthlessly checks my advances in that direction. Now, don't you think that is

cruel ?"

66

"Cruel ?" ejaculated Swart laughing. Why cruel is no name for it. It is atrocious, it is immoral!”

"I knew you would say so," replied Mrs. Norman with a contented little pout. "And when you get a wife, Doctor, I hope you will act on my suggestion and give her all the latitude in that line that she may wish."

"Your advice is timely, although I have no immediate prospect. I promise to do everything in my power to stimulate with aid and sympathy all the latent feminine uncharitableness in her character."

"Good. You will make a model husband. Now, tell me, when Lew and you were in college together, didn't you use to have nice times ridiculing your friends? Or was the clergyman already then sufficiently developed in him to check his tongue when you knew he was laughing inwardly at other people's absurdities ?"

"If I remember rightly, he at all events didn't extend his charity to the faculty." "How charming! He shall have that as soon as we are alone to-night."