Zigzag journeys on the Mediterranean


Material Information

Zigzag journeys on the Mediterranean
Series Title:
Zigzag series
Cover title:
Zig Zag journeys in the Mediterranean
Spine title:
Zigzags in the Mediterranean
Physical Description:
320 p. : ill. (some col.), ports ; 22 cm.
Butterworth, Hezekiah, 1839-1905
Snyder, Henry M ( Engraver )
Estes & Lauriat ( Publisher )
John Wilson and Son ( Printer )
University Press (Cambridge, Mass.) ( Printer )
Estes and Lauriat
Place of Publication:
John Wilson and Son ; University Press
Publication Date:


Subjects / Keywords:
Youth -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Voyages and travels -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Storytelling -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Natural history -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Adventure and adventurers -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Description and travel -- Juvenile fiction -- Mediterranean Sea   ( lcsh )
Description and travel -- Juvenile fiction -- Europe   ( lcsh )
Description and travel -- Juvenile fiction -- Mexico   ( lcsh )
Travelogue storybooks -- 1893   ( local )
Bldn -- 1893
Travelogue storybooks   ( local )
novel   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage:
United States -- Massachusetts -- Boston
United States -- Massachusetts -- Cambridge


General Note:
Some illustrations engraved by H.M. Snyder and pictorial endpapers printed in green.

Record Information

Source Institution:
University of Florida
Rights Management:
All applicable rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier:
aleph - 002223253
notis - ALG3502
oclc - 00494912
lccn - 05021385
System ID:

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Full Text

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Copyright, 1893,


All Rights Reserved.

tJLS iberSitg, Ce :I ,


HE purpose of this book is to explain the Consular
/ii-' Service of the United States, and to relate those
r,_- |curious stories which are often told in the Con-
'*': isulates of the East and which resemble the Thou-
sand and One Nights," or the "Arabian Nights'
Entertainments." The Consulates of the East sometimes become
famous story-telling places in which caravan tales, sea tales, and
travellers' tales are told in an original way; and it is with this.
peculiar lore that this, the fifteenth volume of the Zigzag Series,"'
seeks to interest the -reader. Many of the tales of Consulates are.
geographically and historically instructive, and some of them have
the peculiar flavor of old Oriental traditions. The pet animals and
birds of Consulates are also interesting topics, and are introduced in
these Consular museums.
The Zigzag books or annuals, like many magazines with a definite
educational purpose, make use of interpolated stories to illustrate and
to give interest to their pages. Most of these stories have been
written by the author, but helps from other pens have sometimes been
sought. In this book the author is indebted to George H. Coomes, of
Warren, R. I., an old sailor, and a popular writer of sea stories, for helps


which are credited in their places. He is also indebted to Messrs.
Harper Brothers for permission to reproduce here some of his own
stories, using the illustrations originally made for them. He has sought
in this, as in former volumes, to make clear a useful subject by that
sympathetic story-telling art, which, although a milange, leaves the
purpose at last clear in the mind. Few books have been written
to make our diplomatic and consular service better known to the
young people, and the author hopes that these Tales of the Consulates
may serve this purpose of popular information.
The Oriental stories in this volume are selected and edited out of
a careful study of books on Oriental folk-lore, it being the author's
purpose to give to young people those which most interested him.
The sources of these stories are fully credited, so that the lover of
Oriental tales can follow the study, if he have access to the best
H. B.






V. GIBRALTAR . . . .... I12


VII. MARSEILLES. . . . 146


IX. VENICE . . . . .. 165









The Mediterranean. Frontispiece
Pitti Palace, Florence . 15
On the Mediterranean . .. 18
"'Wait till the Sun goes into a Cloud,'
said the Doctor" . .. 41
Faneuil Hall . ... ... 44
The Valley of Mexico . .. 51
Popocatepetl .... 55
The God of Fire .. . 57
The President's Palace .. 58
The Sacrificial Stone . .. 59
Top of Sacrificial Stone . 6
Sculpture on the Side of the Sacrificial
Stone .. .. 62
The Cathedral . . 63
The Tomb of Juarez ... 66
Main Plaza, Monterey, Bishop's Palace. 67
Statue of Chitaahuac . .. 69
The Plaza and La Mitra, Monterey .. 70
Statue of Columbus, Mexico .. 75
Bolivar . . 8o
La Guayra. . ... 81
Statue of Bolivar, Caracas ... 83
A youthful Beggar of Caracas 84
Ancient House in Caracas. .85
Grand Opera House, Caracas . 87
A Donkey Car, Caracas . 88
Old Mission near Caracas . 107
The Rock of Gibraltar . 13
The Grinding over young . 117
The City of Morocco.. . .. 23
Nemours . . 127
Travelling in Algeria .. 131

An Algerian Antelope-Hunter .135
An Algerian Beauty . 141
Tailpiece. . . 145
Public Garden, Marseilles .. 147
"The Old Red Settle by the Fire 158
"The Quaker smiled neathh his Sunday
H at". . 158
"Silas the Bass-viol strung" . 159
" The Turnpike Coach .. .160
"Take that, and pay Ben's debts" 163
"The old Man powdered his Wig" 164
The Great Bridge of Rialto . 166
Pigeons of St. Mark's . 167
Venetian Glass. . 168
Foot of Flagstaff in front of St. Mark's,
Venice . . 69
Masquerading in Venice. . 173
Ca D'Oro, Venice. . 175
Library of St. Mark's, Venice . 179
A Venetian Garden . 183
Sciollo and Colleoni, Venice .. 187
A Vision of Egypt. . 193
A Camping-Place in Sight of Biskra 97
A Daughter of Egypt . 201
Florence . . 217
The Duomo, Florence . 221
Loggia di Lanzi, Florence 225
Fountain of Neptune, Florence 229
Turkish Woman . . 233
Interior of a Mosque . 235
Moslem at Prayer . 241
Appian Way . .. 244
Tomb of Cecilia Mattella, Appian Way 249


The Baptistery, Duomo, and Campanile
of Giotto, Florence .. .. 253
The Campagna . . 258
The Aventine . . 261
St. Paul Basilica . 265
Square of the Capitol, Rome .. 269
House of Cola di Rienzi . 274
Old Entrance to National Villa, Naples 278
Naples and Mount Vesuvius .. 279
The Aquarium, Naples . 282

Monument of Vico, Naples
Morning in Venice .
The Tower of St. Mark's
Capri . .
National Villa, Naples .
Roman Gate, Genoa .
Pilo Gate, Genoa .
South Bastion, Genoa .
Tailpiece . .

. 284
. 293
. 30
. 309
. 318
. 319
. 319
. 320






." -'-.--I-- HE days of the caliphs and the palaces of the

r .; I the English consular offices of the ports of the
S Mediterranean are the interesting story-telling
-'' places of to-day. How I have enjoyed the hours
spent in the consular offices of the Southern ports
of Europe! It was once my good fortune to visit all the American
and English consulates on the coasts of the Mediterranean and of the
Red Sea to the ports of Mecca. In other words, I made a journey
under Government instructions from Washington to Zag-a-zig, as a
town near Suez was called: a Zigzag journey of the Mediterranean
from Cadiz to Zag-a-zig. The evenings in half of the consulates I
visited were spent in story-telling, and I collected at the time a
library of English, French, and Oriental story-books."
The speaker was Captain John Van der Palm, a veteran in the
consular service of the United States. The place was the picnic-
grounds of the old Van Ness mansion near the White House in


John Van der Palm was a middle-aged man, a widower, with an
only son, named Percy. This boy had accompanied his father in
several journeys to consular ports, in the interest of the State Depart-
ment. Mr. Van der Palm had once served as a consul in several
ports, but in late years had been employed as a general agent of the
State Department in the consular service.
Percy Van der Palm was a story-loving boy. He early developed
a lively appreciation of sea tales, wonder tales, and Oriental imagina-
tion. It was his delight to accompany his father to the social rooms
of the State Department, and meet there old foreign ministers,
consuls, and commercial agents, and to listen to their narratives, which
often had all the interest and force of the best story-telling.
The Van der Palms were friends of the occupants of the old Van
Ness mansion, who used often to invite their friends to the famous
garden of the house to spend the spring and summer evenings.
These friends were usually consuls or commercial agents. So stories
of all lands came to be told here, in this unconventional way, greatly
to the delight of Percy. He himself began to wish to travel, and he
formed a plan to study to make himself an acceptable candidate as a
consular clerk.
Well, Percy," said his father one day, what profession will you
choose for life? Your education should now be turned into some
preparation for a single thing. Life is too short for many things.
The age demands superior fitness for one thing to open the door to
one's success. Your story-telling days are now over. The time for
fables has passed."
No, father; my story-telling days have only begun. Let me
study languages, commercial book-keeping, and commercial law. I
intend to apply to the President for a place as consular clerk."
And what would you do then? "
After such a clerkship? "
Yes, you would not wish to be a consular clerk for life? "



I would seek to become a secretary of legation, a diplomatic
agent, a naval attache, or a consul, such as you have been. Let me
qualify myself for some place in the service of the Department of
State. I would like a government position in that department above
all things. Such people are in touch with all the world. They study
everything. The world is their country, and their countrymen are
all mankind. Their minds have no latitude or longitude; they take
the world as a whole. Their very forms of conversation make other
men seem small. Other men suppose; they know."
Well, my son, I am glad that you take such a philosophical view
of the State service. I am pleased with your decision. But I once
heard of a man who had a son who wished to see the world, and- "
Well, father ? "
He went to his father and said, Father, I want to travel and see
the world.' "
And what did his father say? "
He said, 'My son, I am very willing that you should travel and
see the world, but I would be sorry to have the world see you.'"
"Oh, father, you do not mean that! "
"I should be unwilling that you should seek employment in the
office of the State Department without a long and a thorough prepara-
tion. Our diplomatic service in the past has often not been a credit
to our country. Politicians have been given places that should have
been filled only by trained men. Your education must begin now
It must be first in languages, then in mathematics, then in law, and in
general knowledge always."
Where shall I begin in languages? "
Your education in languages must begin in the countries where
those languages are spoken. I shall send you to the city of Mexico
to study Spanish, and then, perhaps, to my friends in Caracas. I shall
then send you for a year to the ports of the Mediterranean, to study
French, Italian, and the eastern tongues, and to learn commercial


usages. I have friends in nearly all those ports. I may be able to
go with you myself; we may be able to make together a sort of a Zig-
zag journey from Washington to Port Said, or Zag-a-Zig. Should
you go to Caracas to study, you would indeed make such a journey
around the world as well as across the Mediterranean. The famous
railway up the Andes from La Guayra to Caracas is called the Zig
Zag. I will think over your plan. Your education must consist largely
in educational travel; this is the highest education, and will become a


part of intellectual training of the future. Let us go down to the
Garden. I have been promised a story to-night by one who knows.
the history of the Van Ness house."
The ghost story ? "
The two passed down the avenue and turned into the monument
grounds. It was near sunset, and the western trees seemed glimmer-
ing with golden fruitage. Light airs rippled the leaves. The day had
been hot, but was cooling.
The Garden?
All Washington knows of that strangely beautiful place. How
shall I describe it ? I cannot better do so than in the story of


the place as it existed in former years, which an old visitor that
night related to the Van der Palms as they sat under the trees in
the mellow air: -



ONE keen December day, a few years after the war, I arrived in Washing-
ton to spend a few weeks with a friend who was making his home at this old
Van Ness mansion, near the White House, and adjoining the grounds where
the Washington Monument now stands. The mansion is almost a ruin now,
and its beautiful grounds are broken and faded, but it was in its glory then, with
its quaint porticos, its halls and gardens and beautiful trees.
In the same yard with the fine house, which had been associated with the
best social life of many administrations, stood the so-called Marcia Burns's
cottage, in which Sir Thomas Moore was entertained in Jefferson's days, on the
occasion of his unhappy visit to Washington. In this cottage lived Davie
Burns, the stubborn Scotchman, whom General Washington compelled to sell
his plantation for the site of the city.
Your position," said Davie Burns to Washington. makes you feel that
all is grist that comes into your hopper. Who would you have been, I should
like to know, if you had n't 'a' married the Widow Custis? "
I had loved the songs of Tom Moore in my boyhood. My mother used to
sing them. The Last Rose of Summer," the "Vale of Avoca," The Harp
that once through Tara's Halls," came ringing back in memory; and after an
hour with my friend in the Van Ness hall, I went out into the yard, and sat
down on one of the benches, and looked at the little gray cottage where the
famous author of Lallah Rookh" and the "Loves of the Angels had been
entertained when the city was new.
An old negress came sauntering by. With my Northern freedom I said
to her, -
Auntie, this all seems to me a place of mysteries !"
"A place of mysteries, dat is wot it is, Massa Nof, dat am wot it is.
Dat am de suller [cellar] whar dey was goin' to prison Linkem [Lincoln] in de
las' days ob de war. Wot you think of dat, Massa Nof? De 'spirators did n't
intend on killing' him at first; dey had planned to 'duct him, an' jus' hide him

I Originally published by the author in the Household." Used by permission.


in dat dar suller. An' den a still boat was to come ober de ribber, like de
white losses, wid still oars, movin' up an' down so still, an' dey were to steal
him away, an' hold him for a ransom. Dat story sort o' haunts dat suller yet.
It nebber happened, but de ghost of it all am dar jus' de same.
Dar be some ghosts dat nebber happened, Massa Nof. De white hosses
ain't de only ghosts that come round here o' nights. Marcia Burns, she come
on summer nights, when de roses all hang in de dews in de thin light ob de
moon, an' de mockin' bird am singin' his las' song.
De white losses, dey come on Christmas nights, six white losses on
seven Christmas nights, Massa Nof, widout any heads on dem an' dar necks
all smoking It may be you 'll stay ober Christmas time, Massa Nof, an' see
'em wid your own eyes."
Of what was this old negress talking? Her eyes dilated as she spoke of
the six white losses, and she raised her arm and looked like a seeress.
"What are the six white horses?" I asked. "I never heard of them
"You didn't! Now dat am strange I must call you Massa Up-Nof.
Eberybody knows about 'em here. Dey am ghosts, -- jus' ghosts. Dey are
de ghosts ob de six white hosses dat all dropped right down dead wid broken
hearts on de night dat Marcia Burns, as dey call Mrs. Van Ness, gabe up her
soul to de angels. Dat am wot dey am."
My friend came out of the house. The old negress heard the door close,
and gave her head a toss, and with an air of mystery moved away.
"It is rather cool for you to be sitting here," my friend said. You need
your overcoat. We have kindled the fires."
Dwight," said I, what is it the old negress has been telling me about six
white horses? one of the oddest things I ever heard."
"Oh, nonsense, Herbert. An old Christmas.tale; the negroes believe it
yet. Iam going to the station; will be back soon. You had better go in.
There's a chill in the air."
He passed out of the gate.
I did not go in. The ancient place seemed to throw over me a spell.
I had heard that the early Presidents used to be entertained here; that
Marcia Burns Van Ness was a kind of Washington saint; that she founded
the orphan asylum, and that the government stopped on the day that she
was buried.
"The government stopped," I said to myself, absently, "but did the six
white horses really fall down dead? "
Dat dey did."


The words seemed to come out of the air. I looked up, and the old negress
again stood before me. She was on her way to some place outside the gate.
"An' Massa Up-Nof, jus' you let me tell you something : De white hosses
am a mystery, but dar am a mystery ob de mystery. I'11 tell you some day, I
She passed out of the gate. The sun was setting; the last breeze seemed
to die, and I sat in the silence trying to picture to myself the past of this most
wonderful place.
Dwight refused to talk to me about the six white horses. I went to For-
tress Monroe to spend a week or two, and while there I wrote to a lady in
Georgetown, who well knew the history of the Van Ness place, and asked her
about the legend of the six white horses. The return letter intensely interested
me. It was as follows:-

GEORGETOWN, December 20.
DEAR HERBERT, Scrapbooks, old notes, a few letters from friends living near Seven-
teenth Street in Washington, bring to me about the same data you seem to possess.
The "headless horses number "six," because General Van Ness drove to his best
coach six, when guests were many and distinguished. He died at the age of seventy-six.
He married the beautiful Marcia Burns when he was thirty; he was then a New York
member of Congress. During all those years he gave annually a large, gay, fashionable
entertainment to all of Congress, during the holidays. They were the Christmas events
of society.
On the anniversary of that event, the six headless horses are said to appear "to this
day They are seen at twelve o'clock at night, any or all nights during Christmas week.
(You know, in the South, the Christmas revelry lasts all the week.) An old lady of eighty
tells me, The horses do gallop round and round the mansion in Mansion Square, and
sometimes stop right in front of the old pillars of the porch and rock to and fro and moan
and sigh. They are white as snow, with smoke and mist and white flame, like burning
brandy, going upward from their shoulders."
They stop in their midnight gallops and listen at the door for the old voices of George
Washington, Hamilton, Clay, Jefferson, the Taylors, and hundreds of distinguished men of
that time. They come over the river, as most of the men are buried there. The unseen
spirits of the great dead hover about the grounds, and make the aspen trees shiver, the
willows moan, as the horses dash past.
Old Mr. Van Ness comes with his own horses, and it is his spirit appearing in them.
Tom Moore spent one week there, and comes generally at Christmas time, his voice
repeating verses composed for the beautiful Marcia Van Ness, and as repeated at one
entertainment to her, is still heard as the clock strikes twelve.
One old man says, Dey los' dere heads [the horses] when ole massa was put in de
big, gran' mos-lem !" (The mausoleum now stands in Oak Hill Cemetery. We see it


often.) "An' dey lay in de dus'; an' when dey was seen nex' day, smoke was dere heads,
like onto de day ob judgment."
Another theory says: "The six beautiful, fiery horses died of grief, and were buried on
the place. A rise in the Potomac River washed them far away. The next Christmas they
returned "like death on the pale horse," in bodily form, with cloudy heads, and the
S-*.,!.>'., eyes flashing through the smoke and flames. Sometimes the very faces of the
guests appeared plainly."
Montgomery Blair used to say that the six headless horses did appear to the servants
annually, and that his own slaves had repeated to him their stories "until he himself
believed them."
The lonely Taylor family of The Octagon House," whose collection of curios are now
in the Corcoran building, told funny stories of the ghosts," credited up to the eighties:
Six headless horses gallop round the old house and grounds annually; always white
and large, and with heads of fire. The servants run, and more courageous, intelligent
persons spend the night trying to hold the horses. They fly past them, and dissolve before
their eyes I A noise of rushing wind and voices in the distance, a splash in the water,
and all is still."
One note of 1885 says: "The headless horses are, of course, a myth, but few of the
neighbors care to pass a night in the place, near Christmas time. We have hidden behind
the brick wall, but found it a ghostly spot."

The story had grown with the letter, and my imagination grew. The inci-
dents of the smoking necks of the horses, of Tom Moore's songs at Christmas
at the midnight hour, of the terrified servants, and the dissolving spectres, all
fixed themselves on my mind, and haunted my sleeping and waking dreams.
On the 24th of December I returned to Washington, to pass the holidays with
my friends at the old Van Ness house.
As I passed the gate into the great garden, I met the old negress again.
"De land! am you come back? Don' you be frightened now; you listen
right now to wot you' Auntie Wisdom's gwine. to say. Dar am a mystery ob
de mystery. I'se found it out, I dun has.
Dem beliebs dat dar are witches,
Dar de witches are;
Dos dat tink dar ain't no witches,
Dar ain't no witches dar.

Now, Massa Up-Nof, don' you be 'fraid. I '11 tell you something' befo' you
go. Dar's got to be a mental mind to see dem tings; de 'maginations

SThese are extracts from a real letter, for nearly every incident of this strange story is true. I
have used only a slight framework of fiction, and that framework does not include any essential historical


got to hab eyes; you 'member now wot yo' Auntie Wisdom says, an' don'
you get scared at anything dey tells you. Dar'll be libely times about mid-
night. Glad to see ye. But I mus' hurry on; wot Massa Blair, he say, if he
heard me talking' dis way wid a gent'man from up Nof! No account nigger
like me. But I'se yer true frien', I'se am I likes peoples wot live up Nof! "
It was a beautiful night. The Capitol seemed to stand in the air like a
mountain of marble, and when the moon rose and illumined the grand porticos
of the nation's halls, the air, as it were, became enchanted, as if it held a celes-
tial palace of light. The Capitol by moonlight is one of the most beautiful
scenes on earth. It rivals the visions of the Taj, and impresses the imagination
as the very genius of American destiny.
There was a gay party in the old house on that Christmas eve. Amid the
social entertainments I once or twice heard an allusion to the "six white
horses," as though the legend were merely a joke. The guests departed by
eleven o'clock, and a half hour later I found myself in the guest-chamber, look-
ing out of the window on Marcia Burns's cottage, the evergreens, and the
Potomac. The house became still, but sounds of merriment from time to time
broke on the air from the negro quarters. I wondered where Auntie Wisdom
might be, and, but for the impropriety, I would have been glad to talk with her
as the critical hour of twelve drew nigh.
Tom Moore probably wrote the once famous song, "The Lake of the
Dismal Swamp" here, on returning from Norfolk, or here formed it in his
mind. As I sat by the window, gazing across the Potomac, under the high
moon, I could almost hear my old mother singing that song again: -

They made her a grave too cold and damp
For a heart so warm and true;
And she's gone to the Lake of the Dismal Swamp,
Where all night long by her fire-fly lamp,
She paddles her white canoe.

Away to the Dismal Swamp he speeds,
And his path is rugged and sore;
Through tangled juniper, beds of reeds,
Through many a fen where the serpent feeds,
And man never trod before.

And near.him the she-wolf stirs the brake,
And the copper snake breathes in his ear,
Till he starting cries :


A shriek rent the air at this point of my mental recitation. It came from
the negro quarters. The yard was soon filled with colored servants, and among
them was Aunt Chloe, the woman of wisdom.
Comin', coming coming' on de wings ob de wind! the old negress began
to exclaim in a wild, high, gypsyish tone, bowing backwards and forwards and
waving her hands in a circle. The negroes around her seemed beside them-
selves with terror.
What was coming?
I looked out on the Potomac over the motionless trees. On the margin of
the river was rising a thin white mist, which formed itself into fantastic shapes
as it rolled along and broke over the marshes in the viewless currents of the air.
One of these mist forms began to condense, and drift toward the gardens of
the house.
Comin', coming on de winds! The Revelations am coming an' wot's
gwine to sabe us now? "
I opened the window. The clocks were striking twelve in the church
"The Powers above, sabe us!" shrieked Aunt Chloe. "Fall upon yo'
knees. The dead are upon ye all. You that has bref, rend de skies! "
Jerusalem and Jericho! cried a negro who was called Deacon Ned. He
seemed to think that in the union of these two words was prophylactic virtue,
and repeated them over and over again. Then a cry went up, which might
have reached the skies, had the celestial scenery been as near as it appeared
on that still December morning. Deacon Ned followed the piercing cry with
the startling declaration: -
De yarth am coming' up an' de hebens am coming' down! "
With this thrilling announcement in my ears, I left my room, and went
down into the hall, and out into the air. A Christmas carol from the chimes of
some unknown tower was floating through the sky like an angel's song.
Aunt Chloe, the woman of occult wisdom, rose up when she saw me.
Oh, Massa Up-Nof, dey is coming Wot you say now? "
"Dere--don' ye see 'em? Clar as de morning Hain't ye got de clar
She pointed wildly to one of the forms of the night mist, and stood with
one arm raised and white-orbed eyes.
Don' ye see dat white hoss dar, widout any head, an' smoking ? An' don'
ye see dem five white hosses dat am bein' created behind him ?"
Then she pointed again toward the marshes, and I saw them.


There, as plainly as I ever saw anything, was a white horse without a head,
his neck smoking. Behind him were five other white horses rising from the
"You see, now? "
"You hab de clar vision? Wot did I tell ye! "
I see."
"You can't discern dese tings widout de seeing' eye. Wot did I tell
ye "
The forms rolled over the marshes, and through the outward shrubbery of
the gardens, and disappeared, dissolving as they approached the higher part
of the city. The negroes stood like statues.
It has passed by," said Deacon Ned. Bress de Laud "
Aunt Chloe," said I, you said there was a mystery of the mystery. What
is it? I must know."
She heaved a deep sigh, but as of relief, and then said, slowly, "Massa
Up-Nof, nobody sees 'em as hosses until dey are told dat dey be horses. Den
dey hab de seeing' eye. Do ye see?"
I see." I did, indeed.
Dey was hosses, warn't dey now, Massa Up-Nof? "
Yes, Aunt Chloe, I saw them as plainly as I saw the President's horses on
Inauguration Day."
The negroes disappeared in the shadows.
I slept serenely, and when I awoke, all the Christmas bells were ringing.
There was a mystery of the mystery, and that key will unlock many doors.
But I shall never forget the impressions made upon my mind that night at
the old Van Ness house; and wherever Christmas may find me, that haunting
memory will always return again. No American Christmas story ever made
such a vivid impression upon me, or left in my mind so many suggestive
lessons. And the story is substantially true.



YOUNG mind with an inborn purpose is haunted
by ideals. Dreams of life which shall be realities
float before it. Percy Van der Palm loved to loiter
about the old Washington garden, and read books
that related to the duties and opportunities of the
foreign offices of the Department of State. The
Register" of the State Department is a very
simple document, but he was often found reading it, and making the
catalogue a wonder-book by associating with some name in it a
mental picture. For example, one would usually find pages like that
on our next page of little interest. Some (like that on page 28)
relate to the consulates of Spain and Italy, to which Percy's dreams
somehow seemed to be tending after what his father had said.
But however dry such pages of official history may seem to our
readers, they were leaves of story books to Percy, as we have said;
they were titles of fictions which were founded, like old novels, on
facts, which his interpretative fancy filled.
There was another book issued by the Department of State which
his imagination used in a like way. It was entitled United States
Consular Regulations." It was a large book for a record, handsomely
Many afternoons found him in the old haunted Garden, studying
in this book facts that he hoped might have a bearing on his future.





Offices, salaries, and names.

Secretary of State :
Assistant Secretar' of State
William F. Wharton .
Second Assistant Secretary of
State ($3,500).
Alvey A. Adee... .

Third Assistant Secretary of
State ($3,500).
William M. Grinnell .
Solicitor ($3,500).
Frank C. Partridge. .
Chief Clerk ($2,750).
Sevellon A. Brown . .

Chief of the Diplomatic Bureau
Thomas W. Cridler .

Chief of the Consular Bureaut
Francis 0. St. Clair .

Chief of the Bureau of Indexes
and Archives ($2,100oo).
John H. Haswell . .

Chief of the Bureau of Accounts
Francis J. Kieckhoefer .




Service in the Department.

Commissioned June 29, 1892.

Mass. Mass. Commissioned April 2, 1889.

D.C. .



Vt. Vt.

N.Y.. N.Y..

Va. .




Appointed Secretary of Legation at Madrid
September 9, 1870; Cha"g dI'.. at dif-
ferent times; transferred from Madrid and
appointed clerk class four July 9, 1877 ; ap-
pointed Chief of Diplomatic Bureau June II,
1878; commissioned Third Assistant Secre-
tary July 18, 1882; commissioned Second
Assistant Secretary August 3, 1886.

N. Y. Commissioned February II, 1892.

Commissioned June o1, 1890.

Appointed temporary clerk December 21,1864;
clerk class one July i, 1866; class two Octo-
ber 16, 1866; class four June I, 1870; Chief
of Bureau of Indexes and Archives July I,
1873; member of Board of Civil Service Ex-
aminers for Department of State August 7,
1873; Chief Clerk August 7, 1873; resigned
to take effect February I, 1888; reappointed
Chief Clerk February I1, 1890.

Appointed clerk of ,-,:.:. class October 1, 1875;
class one July I, I .:. class three November
I, 1881; class four February I, 1884; Chief
of the Diplomatic Bureau July, 15, 1889.

Appointed temporary clerk November 12,1865;
class two June 7, 1870; class three June 22,
1871; class four July I, 1874; temporary
Chief of the Consular Bureau June 7, 1881;
permanent Chief of the Consular Bureau
November I, 188r.

Appointed temporary clerk January 23, 1865;
class one August i, 1867 ; class two March
22, 1869; class three June 1, 1870; class
four June 22, 1871; Chief of the Bureau of
Indexes and Archives August 7, 1873.

Appointed temporary clerk August I, 1874;
class one December I, 1874; class three
November 20, 1877 ; class two July I, 1878;
class three Feburary 27, 1880; class four July
1. r880; Chief of Bureau of Accounts and
Disbursing Clerk January 28, 1884.

W. Va.








Place. Name and Title.

Castellammare Alfred M. Wood C.A.
Do Nestore Calvano .. V. C. A.
Catania. Carl Bailey Hurst* C.
Do Augustus Peratoner, V. & D. C.
Florence .James Verner Long .. C.
Do Spirito Bernardi V. & D.C.
Bologna Carlo Gardini . Agt.
Genoa James Fletcher (). C.
Do Frederico Scerni V. C.
San Remo Albert Ameglio Agt.
Leghorn .Radcliffe H. Ford .. C.
Do .Emilio Masi V. & D.C.
Carrara Ulsse Boccacci . Agt.
Messina. .Darley R. Brush . C.
Do ......... .V.&D.C.
Gioja L. Giffoni .. . Agt.
Milazzo Pietro Siracusa . Agt.
Milan George W. Pepper (n) C.
Do Anthony Richman V. & D. C.
Naples John S. Twells .... .C.
Do .Rob't O'N. Wickersham. V.C.
Do .Philip S. Twells. D. C.
Bari .Nicholas Schuck . Agt.
Rlodi T. del Giudice . Agt.
Palermo Horace C. Pugh .. C.
Do Carmelo G. Lagana .. V.C.
Girgenti Francis Ciotta .. Agt.
Licata Arthur Verderame Agt.
Marsala .George Rayson . Agt.
Trapani gnazio Marrone Agt.
Rome Augustus 0. Bourn .. C. G.
Do Charles M. Wood V. & D.C. G.
Do Charles M. Wood .. C.C.
Ancona A. P. Tomassini Agt.
,' .. Alphonse Dol .. .... .Agt.
Civita ecchia G. Marsanich . Agt.
Turin (b) St. Leger A. Touhay (n) C. A.
Do Hugo Pizzotti V. C. A.
Venice (b) Henry A. Johnson C.
Do .. Frederick Rechsteiner, V. & D.C.





Gt. Brit..






R. I..










S. Dak.




R. I.


D.C. .




July 13, 1878 $1,500
Sept. 30, 1891 ..
July 22, 1892 1,500
Nov. 22, 1883 ..
Feb. 27, 1891 I,500
Mar. 3, 1883 ..
June 2, 1881 .
May 14, 1883 1,500
Dec. 10, 1883 ..
Nov. 27, 1883 .
Jan. 6, 1892 1,500
Oct. 14, 1889 ..
June 10, 1882 .
July 22, 1892 1,500

Aug. 6, 1868 .
Mar. 12, 88o .
Jan. 30, 1890 1,500
Mar. II, 1885 ..
Feb. 27, 1890 1,500
Nov. 7, 1883 ..
July 1890 .
Feb. 8, 1892
Mar. 6, 1878 .
Oct. 16, 1890 2,000
Dec. 22, 1884 .
Apr. 21, 1892 -
Apr. 27, 1888 .
Dec. 21, 1874 .
Oct. 24, 1890 -
June 26, 1889 3,000
Feb. 12, 1884 .
Mar. 24, 1873 1,200
Mar. 19, 1875 -
June 7, 1879 .
June 14, 1862 .
Jan. 7, 1892 Fees.
Apr. 28, 1892
Mar. 29, 1886 1,000ooo
June 8, 1891 .





3,272 50

706 50

No fees.







Let me give a few of them; they will show how our foreign service is
conducted, and will serve as pictures of the beginnings of diplomatic
and consular life.


The Consular Service of the United States consists of agents and consuls-
general, vice-consuls-general, deputy consuls-general; consuls, vice-consuls,
deputy consuls; commercial agents, vice-commercial agents, deputy commercial
agents; consular agents, consular clerks, interpreters, marshals, and clerks at
Consuls are of two classes: (i) Those who are not allowed to engage in
business, and whose salaries exceed one thousand dollars per annum; (2) Those
who are allowed to engage in business. The latter class of consuls is again sub-
divided into-(I) Those who are salaried (known as consuls in Schedule C), and,
(2) Those who are compensated from the fees which they receive for their services.
These clerks, to the number of thirteen in all, are appointed by the Presi-
dent after examination, and can be removed only for cause stated in writing
and submitted to Congress at the session first following such removal. Appli-
cants must be over eighteen years of age, and citizens of the United States at
the time of their appointment, and must pass examination before an examining
board, who shall report to the Secretary of State that the applicant is qualified
and fit for the duties of the office. They may be assigned to different consul-
ates at the pleasure of the Secretary of State; and, when so assigned, they are
subordinate to the principal consular officer, or the vice or deputy at the post,
as the case may be.
If the applicant for the office of consular clerk is in a foreign country, he
may be examined by a series of written questions by the Minister of the United
States in that country, and two other competent persons to be named by him.
The result of the examination, with the answers of the candidate in his own
handwriting, will then be transmitted to the Secretary of State. Consular
clerks are required to discharge such clerical and other duties of the consul-
ate as may be assigned to them by the principal officer, whose instructions in
all respects they are carefully to observe and obey. Punctual daily attendance
at the consulate during office hours, diligence in the discharge of the consular
duties, a cheerful obedience to the directions of their superiors, a courteous
bearing toward all persons having business with the consulate, and uprightness


of conduct in all respects will be expected from them. Disobedience, want of
punctuality, neglect of duty, the abuse of their credit in pecuniary transac-
tions, or exceptionable moral conduct will be followed by the revocation of
their commissions.
The department is authorized by law to allow for the hire of clerks, when
the money is actually expended therefore, as follows: To the consul at
Liverpool, a sum not exceeding the rate of two thousand dollars for any one
year; and to the cohsuls-general at London, Paris, Havana, and Rio de
Janeiro, each a sum not exceeding the rate of one thousand six hundred dollars
for any one year; to the consuls-general at Berlin, Frankfort, Montreal,
Shanghai, Vienna, and Kanagawa, and for the consuls at Hamburg, Bremen,
Manchester, Lyons, Hong-Kong, Havre, Crefeld, and Chemnitz, each a sum
not exceeding the rate of one thousand two hundred dollars for any one year;
and the consuls at Bradford, Marseilles, and Birmingham, each a sum not
exceeding the rate of nine hundred and sixty dollars for any one year; to
the consuls-general at Calcutta, Port au Prince, and Melbourne, and to the
consuls at Leipsic, Sheffield, Sonneberg, Dresden, Nuremberg, Tunstall, Ant-
werp, Bordeaux, Colon (Aspinwall), Glasgow, Panama, and Singapore, each
a sum not exceeding the rate of eight hundred dollars for any one year ; to
the consuls at Belfast, Barmen, Leith, Dundee, Victoria, and to the consuls-
general at Matamoros and Halifax, each a sum not exceeding the rate of
six hundred and forty dollars for any one year; to the consuls-general at
Mexico and Berne and to the consuls at Beirut, Malaga, Genoa, Naples,
Stuttgart, Florence, Manheim, Prague, Zurich, and Demerara, each a sum not
exceeding the rate of four hundred and eighty dollars for any one year. The
allowance to be made from this appropriation to the several consulates named
being within the discretion of the Department of State, the amount of the
allowance will be determined by the requirements of each office. No clerk
will be employed without special instructions authorizing it, and the name
and nationality, as well as the proposed amount of compensation of each clerk,
will be reported to the department.


Consuls-general and consuls are appointed by the President, by and with
the advice and consent of the Senate. They qualify by taking the prescribed
oath (a copy of which is furnished by the department for the purpose), and
by executing a bond to the United States in the form prescribed by the


Consuls-general and all consuls and commercial agents whose salaries.
exceed one thousand dollars a year are required, before receiving a commis-
sion, to execute a bond (Form No. 2) containing an express stipulation
against engaging in business Those whose salaries are at the rate of one
thousand dollars or less, all of whom are entitled to the privilege of trading,
execute the bond given in Form No. 3; and those who derive their compen-
sation from fees (who may also engage in business) execute the bond prescribed
in Form No. 4. The prohibition as to transacting business may, however, be
extended, in the discretion of the President, to all consular officers, whether
receiving salary or fees. All principal consular officers are required by law
to take the oath in Form No. I. For instructions respecting the sureties on
the bond and the formalities of its execution see note to Form No. 2.
A consul-general or consul appointed to one consulate is prohibited from
holding the office of consul-general or consul at any other consulate, or from.
exercising the duties thereof.
Commercial agents are appointed by the President. They qualify for
their offices in the same manner in all respects as consuls-general and consuls.
Vice-consuls-general, deputy consuls-general, vice-consuls, deputy consuls,
vice-commercial agents, deputy commercial agents, and consular agents are
appointed by the Secretary of State, usually upon the nomination of the
principal consular officer, approved by the consul-general (if the nomination
relates to a consulate or commercial agency), or, if there be no consul-general,
then by the diplomatic representative. If there be no consul-general or
diplomatic representative, the nomination should be transmitted directly to
the Department of State, as should also the nominations for subordinate officers
in Mexico, British India, Manitoba, and British Columbia. The nominations
for vice-consul-general and deputy consul-general must be submitted to the
diplomatic representative for approval, if there be one resident in the country.
The privilege of making the nominations for the foregoing subordinate officers
must not be construed to limit the authority of the Secretary of State, as
provided by law, to appoint these officers without such previous nomination
by the principal officer. The statutory power in this respect is reserved, and
it will be exercised in all cases in which the interests of the service or other
public reasons may be deemed to require it.
Consular officers recommending appointments of this character must in all
cases submit some evidence of the capacity, character, and fitness of the nom-
inee for the office, and also information respecting his residence and the State
or country of which he is a citizen or subject. A nomination failing to give
these particulars will not be considered. The nomination must be made in a


dispatch addressed to the Assistant Secretary of State, transmitted through
the legation or consulate-general, or directly, as the case may be. A minor
will not be approved for any subordinate consular office. All persons nom-
inated for subordinate appointments must be able to speak and read the
English language.

These pages may seem dull, yet they illustrate certain facts that
American boys should know, as it should be a part of education to
show how the departments of our own government are conducted.
Reader, when you are travelling, always visit the consulates, and
also the stations of the missionaries of your own church. You will
find more information in these places than anywhere else. It is the
consul's business to answer your questions in regard to travel and to
treat you well, and he will usually do these things with great pleasure
to himself as well as to you. As for the missionary stations, they stand
for progressive education, and you may make yourself a kind of mis-
sionary by bearing good reports of the progress that such places usually
illustrate. Such visits will educate your heart as well as your head,
and perhaps stimulate your conscience. Go!
Percy was delighted with the tales of the East. Let me give you
from time to time some of the books that he read.
Count Lucanor," a Spanish book, written a century before the
invention of printing, was a favorite study. It had the charm of old
Spain and Moorish places. Its author was Don Juan Manuel, the
Spanish Chaucer. We will give you some tales from this curious
Folk-Lore Legends, Russian and Polish," as published by W. W.
Gibbings, 18 Bury Street, London, he also found rich in tales that were
almost as charming to the fancy as the story of the days of Good
Haroun Alraschid."
We shall give you adaptions of the best stories from these pages,
as they are still the delight of the Eastern ports.
Percy also liked those American stories that closely resemble those
of the East.


The long twilights of the story-telling garden had the atmosphere
for such curious tales and wonder-tales. His father's friends in the
State Department and old consular friends would gather under the
trees, and with them social travellers, and tell tales of many lands.
After the story-telling they would leave the garden to see the dome of
the Capitol gleaming over the city in the moonlight.

Let me give you some of these old stories by visitors from the New
England port cities, that have the Oriental curiosity and flavor. There
were two that particularly held Percy's fancy. The boy used to repeat
them to new visitors, and they seemed to many to have an almost
Eastern charm. The favorite of all these peculiar stories which he
used to relate with sympathetic coloring, after the Eastern way, and
which we reproduce in our own, was, -


GOOD-BY, Alice. It is a cold morning, and it seems hard to go away
and leave you all alone in the dark; but I must work. We have to work to
live; To-morrow will be Christmas. I wish I had something to give you; but
I have n't. Never mind, Alice, I love you."
The old man opened the door to go, then looked back on his blind daughter,
whom he was about to leave all alone for the day. He wished to say something
more to comfort her in the long hours of loneliness that were to follow.
"Well, be good, Alice. Perhaps the good fairies will come to you; they
come at Christmas-time, they say, to those who believe that the world is
He closed the door.
The world." The words had a strange far-away meaning to Alice. She
had never seen the world. She had felt the sunshine, she had heard distant
bells ringing on Sundays, and happy birds singing in the cool green trees of
the park on summer morns. She knew when the seasons came and changed,
but she had never seen the springs light up the hills, and burst into flowers, or
the summer dawns and groves and rivers and hay-fields, or the autumn fruits
and burning leaves, or the fleecy fall of white snows. The winds of the seasons
sang to her; she had listened to their music for sixteen years. When a young


child she had had the scarlet-fever, and it had left her weak and helpless, and
a slow darkness had come over her eyes, shutting out the light more and more
day by day, until at last the bright world disappeared, and was lost. She was
blind. She could now only dimly remember that she had ever seen the world.
Only two things had left pictures on her mind; they were the face of her
mother, who was now dead, and a canary-bird that had sung over her bed in
her sickness. She loved to dream of them always, the beautiful face and the
golden bird.
Late in the morning an old woman named Lucy came into the room. She
always visited the blind girl once a day, and in winter oftener.
Can I do anything for you, Alice?" she asked kindly.
Father says that to-morrow will be Christmas. It is the day of Christ, and
I suppose that everything is beautiful. Shall I ever see Christmas? I wish I
could! "
Oh, Alice, believe that you will, and you will. How bright the snows
glisten on the roof of the Perkins Institute for the Blind! I wish you could
see the wings of the doves that fly among the chimneys over there. It always
looks bright up there; all places look pleasant where people do good."
For the blind? Did you say for the blind? Could I not go there? Per-
haps they would help me."
But you would have to leave your dear old father. That is an asylum,
and your eyes are all grown over. But don't lose heart, child. Strange things
happen to those that believe. The believing heart receiveth all things. Ask
the Lord to send you the good fairies of Christmas, and the good fairies will
come. I have always noticed that the good fairies come to those who expect
Oh, Lucy, I do so wish I could see, like you The bells will ring, but I
shall not see the Day Beautiful. Don't you pity me, Lucy? Let me kiss you."
The old woman clasped the girl to her bosom. Lucy, 1 believe in you and
The faith of the girl touched the old woman's heart. There are few sweeter
words than these, I believe in you." The confidence made old Lucy wish to
help the sightless girl. Faith always has this influence. Lucy turned away,
and a happy thought came into her mind, like an angel flying across the sky.
She had a few pennies. She would buy some chestnuts from the grizzly old
chestnut-roaster on the street, and would put them in Alice's stocking. So she
stopped at the door as she was about to go, and said, -
Alice, other girls hang their stockings under the shelf on Christmas Eve,
and they do say that the good fairies come in the night and put things into


them. You hang up yours to-night above the stove. You cannot tell what
may happen. I see you have faith in your heart. It is a good thing to
believe in God and everybody. If all people did this, what a happy world
it would be !"
Alice did not comprehend all this homely philosophy, but she felt the spirit
of it. She heard Lucy going. A new delight came into her heart, her face
grew bright, and she said, -
Oh, Lucy, I feel that everything is good around me and above me, and
I believe in everything! I shall see Christmas--the Day Beautiful- some
day. Yes, Lucy, I surely will. I feel it here. I shall see."
She crossed her white hands on her heart, and sat smiling. Old Lucy went
away, but Alice sat there still, as lovely as a mute statue of Faith. She heard
the footsteps hurrying by on the street, a rift of sunlight came into the room
from the thinly parting snow clouds, and she felt the brightness of the light that
she could not see.
There was a little noise in the room-a rustle. Something was there,--a
tiny something. Was it a fairy's foot ? It was now here, now there, airy,
Alice listened. She heard nothing more for a time. She recalled the tales
of Grimm, Anderson, Fouqud, Haupt, and Hoffmann that her mother used to tell
her. Was it a fairy? It was not the wind, for the air was still.
Again an airy trip across the floor like a little wing. Was it the spirit of
the dead canary that she could see still in the dim twilight of memory? Her
heart beat. Again and again it sped across the floor, like a thing of air. Once
it came near her feet. Oh, that she could see !
What was that ? Music? Surely it was. In a corner of the room. Soft
music like the summer wind among the high wires over the street, like a harp
in the park, like the dead canary's remembered song, only not sharp like that
more light, more soft, more timid. Fairy music it might be. A fairy play-
ing a harp.
It came again. It could not be a cricket. Crickets sometimes came to
those tenement-houses iri the dead world, but it was winter now. How it sang
and sang.! Alice listened with a thrilled and wonder-delighted heart. She
moved her foot. The music was gone with a little rustle like a wing.
"Lucy! she screamed.
Old Lucy came. "What, Alice, girl?"
My old canary has come back, and has been singing to me. Something
good is going to happen. Do dead birds sing?"
Lucy did not know. She saw nothing and heard nothing. She kissed,


Alice, and only said, "You have been dreaming, child; but dreams of faith
often come true."
That afternoon the street was all bells. Door-bells were ringing. There
were bells on the horses, bells on the sleds of the children. The sun of the
short day faded out of the room, and all the air became melodious and palpita-
ting with chimes. At twilight all was music, bells, bells, bells.
Then fell a hush between the twilight and the evening festivals. The street
lamps were lit; one of them flashed into the window. There were a few still
moments, a rustle, and the same sweet harp-like, cricket-like music filled the
room again. Alice did not stir. It lasted long. There was a footfall on the
stairs, another little rustle and an airy run, and the music was gone.
The door opened. Oh, father, father, my dead canary has been here, and
has been singing to me! Oh, it was like silver; so beautiful-beautiful! I
wish that I could see! "
"Be patient, my little daughter. Perhaps it will all come by-and-by. I
told you that the fairies of good came to those who believe in them. I have
brought home a whole loaf of pound-cake and two oranges to-night because it
is Christmas Eve, and I have been thinking so much of you to-day. We will
eat them together."
Poor old Hugh Meadowcraft, the laborer at the docks where ships unloaded
their freight, felt a new vitality in his weary limbs as he rattled the grate, and
put the meat on the stove to fry, and poured out the coffee into the coffee-pot,
and prepared the evening meal. His employer, the ship-master, had added two
dollars to his simple wages for this week. He had paid his rent for his two
rooms, and bought a pound-cake for her, and he was a happy man. He heard
nothing but goodness in all the bells that were ringing near and far, and as he
sat down to his tea with his blind child, he said, I tell you what it is, Alice,
this is a good world to live in; and I think that the next will be better still.
There's nothing, child, like love and faith and hope; they are all the world of
happiness. A king can have no more. Smell the coffee, and hear the kettle
sing. The bells are all ringing yonder, everywhere."
They ate in happy silence. Suddenly there was a lute-like sound, like a
harp of air.
Listen, father."
Old Hugh moved his chair. The music ceased.
You have heard it, father the canary ? "
"It is very strange. It is nothing bad, Alice; it bodes no evil; only a
good fairy ever sang like that."


Night came, with the temples of the stars shining in the sky; the streets
thronged; there were merry voices in the clear still air. Old Lucy came in,
and laughed at Alice's fairy. Nine o'clock came, and Hugh went to his room,
and Alice for the first time in her life hung up her stocking for Santa Claus, or
the fairies, or the spirit of good that haunts the world's better self. She went
to bed it had been a thrilling day to her and went to sleep to dream of the
song of the golden bird.
She awoke early, or was awakened by a little noise. What was that? A
nibbling sound under the shelf and over the stovepipe; in the very place where
she had hung her stocking.
She rose softly, slowly. The nibbling sound continued, and there was a
rustle as of nuts. Hush The canary was singing again, in the dark, under
the shelf, over the stove-pipe, where she had hung her stocking.
She crept toward the place silently and listened. Could it be? Yes, the
music was in her stocking, away down in her stocking toward the foot. How
sweet and silvery and happy it was She put out her trembling hand and
grasped the top of the stocking; she felt a motion of some 1; 111 thing in it.
She pinched the toe; it was full of something. What had happened? She
Her father came to the door with a light. What is it, Alice?"
The canary in my stocking."
No, no, girl. Here, let me see."
Old Hugh opened the top of the stocking. Santa Claus has been to see
you, Alice ; and he has left a mouse, I do declare."
Old Lucy came, running. See here, will wonders ever cease? Alice has
found a mouse in her stocking."
Kill it! said old Lucy. It is after the nuts that- "
Oh, no, no; don't kill it! said Alice. I beg of you, don't kill it! It
Oh, no, girl, it don't sing; and it will eat up all the nuts. Let me call the
Oh, no; I tell you it sings like a canary. Let me have the stocking;"
and Alice seized it, and threw herself upon the bed. "Let me have it let
me have it until day! said she. "Let me be alone with it for a little while.
Oh, please do! It means good to me. I feel it does. Let me have it a little
"Let her be," said old Hugh. "Perhaps it is a singing mouse -who
knows? I have heard of them. They bring good luck. Likely it was that
she heard yesterday, and that we heard at tea."


Morning came, a splendor of billowy clouds, sunshine, and glistening
snow. Old Hugh rose late, and came into the room.
Oh, father, it has been singing again; and the stocking is half full of nuts,
and I have touched it with my hand. It is soft, and its heart makes its little
body tremble all over. Did Santa Claus leave it, father? "
I don't know; and it is n't much matter, I guess, as long as you are
The mouse continued to nibble the nuts and to sing. Hugh began to be
interested in it. He called old Lucy into the room to hear it sing.
Just you be still and listen," said he.
The mouse began to nibble, then to sing.
The doctor called to see a sick woman who lived in the house.
Doctor," said Lucy, did you ever hear of such a thing as a singing
mouse? "
There 's one in the other room, and I want you to hear it."
The doctor was in a hurry to go, but his curiosity was excited. He stepped
into Alice's room, saw the little mouse in the trap cage, and presently heard
it sing.
It looked so cunning standing there on its hind-feet, and moving its fore-
feet as though playing on a tiny violin so pretty, so toy-like, so comical -
that the doctor was delighted, and he lingered there for nearly half an hour,
notwithstanding his haste at first to go. Then his face turned to Alice how
happy and lovely she looked and he said, -
What is the matter with your eyes, my girl?"
I am blind. I cannot see you or father; I cannot see Christmas, the day
that they call Beautiful; I cannot see the singing mouse. Oh, doctor, I wish
I could see! I feel that some good influence is following me. Can't you
help me ? "
Come to the window with me, my girl, and let me examine your eyes.
You ought to be treated by an oculist," said he. I declare, I must tell my
friend Phillips about you. His wife is an invalid; she will want to see the
singing mouse. She likes to meet everybody who has trouble and to make
them happy. She feeds with coin all the organ-grinders in the street, and
watches at her window for faces in distress. Here is a case for her. My girl,
I have hopes that you may see again. There is a growth over your eyes; it
may be removed. I will be your friend. What is your name?"
Alice Alice Meadowcraft."
He went away slowly, leading Alice back to her chair. And the mouse
was singing.


Will be your friend." Alice's face was a picture of happiness, and beauti-
ful with hope. Friend! He might cause the heavens to lift again before
her eyes full of sunrises, moonrises, sunsets, rainbows, and stars. He might
cause the flowers to bloom again, the birds to come again, to her eyes. He
might bring again the face of her father to hers, and she might yet see the Day
There lived on Essex Street at this time a tall, patriarchal man, with grand
manners and a most beautiful face, whom the whole nation feared, but whom
all the poor people of that neighborhood loved. He would face a political
mob with perfect calmness, but he could never say No to an unfortunate
man or a homeless child. He was of distinguished family, and had inherited
wealth; a graduate of Harvard, and a correspondent of the greatest statesmen
of the world, yet he lived in a simple way, and died poor, having given away
all that he had. He sleeps now in a lot assigned him by friendly charity in
the beautiful Milton (Massachusetts) burying-ground, near the old house of
the Suffolk Resolves," which resolves" was the first Declaration of
This man, whose criticism even good President Lincoln declared that he
dreaded more than any other, and whose white hand waved mobs backward
like a prophet's, at this time towered through the streets near where the Old
Colony and Albany depots now are, loved, feared, hated, carrying his own
market basket in the morning, and at night thrilling assemblies with silver-
tongued eloquence such as is not now heard in Boston. His wife was an
invalid, and he was her nurse for a lifetime.
The next day the doctor came to the long rambling house where Alice
lived, and he brought with him this statesman who scorned public office, but
whose words moved the conscience of the people and led the struggles of the
How grand and noble he looked as he stood there in that poor room and
took the hand of Alice, the blind girl!
"I have come to hear your little mouse sing," said he. Then he started
back. He looked upon the blind eyes of that beautiful face. "I must let you
go over and see Ann. She will send you to Mrs. Anagnos."
The little mouse was induced to sing after a time, and the two went away.
I will call for you some day," said the patriarch.
Mrs. Anagnos!" Who was Mrs. Anagnos? The name rang in Alice's
mind. She asked the few that came into her room who was Mrs. Anagnos.
None of them knew.
At last the grocer came with a simple parcel. Alice asked him the question
that so haunted her.


Oh, she is the daughter of Julia Ward Howe she who wrote, -

'Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord.'"

And he hurried away. But the mouse was singing.
The line seemed a prophecy. Who wrote it, Mrs. Julia Ward Howe or
Mrs. Anagnos? She would ask the newsboy when he passed. She did. His
answer was odd, but satisfactory: -
She is the wife of Mr. Anagnos, who keeps the Blind Asylum over in
South Boston, and helps blind people to read. He might make you see.
Better go and see her. She is a great big woman, and she's just good to
everybody, like JMis' Phillips. She'd make you see, like's not. I'd try her,
Alice went back to her room, her mind all roses, and the little mouse was
singing again.
One day the patriarch came again, and he took Alice to the two-story brick
house on Essex Street, to meet his invalid wife. How tenderly they talked to
her And Ann kissed her, and said, -
"We will see your father, and I think I will send a carriage for you some
day, and you shall visit Mrs. Anagnos. I think, too, that Mrs. Anagnos will
want you to stay with her a while, and I perhaps will take care of your mouse
while you are gone. I love little animals, and I live in my room alone."
"Do you think that she will make me see?" said Alice, see father and
the day that they call Beautiful? "
The high rooms of the Blind Asylum at South Boston overlook the city,
the bowery suburbs, and the glorious harbor. The world of life, of spires,
towers, ships, parks, and gardens, lies under them. In one of these rooms
Alice found a new home. And here one day the doctors gave her a breath of
ether, and she went away to dreamland; and when she came back again, Mrs.
Anagnos stood over her, and kissed her, and a doctor said, -
The operation has been successful. You will see again."
When? said Alice, whose eyes were in thick bandages. Oh, when?"
"I will say on Christmas Day, -the day you call Beautiful. You must be
kept in a dark room until then. If your eyes do well, I will let your friends
come to see you next Christmas, and I will lift the curtain, and you shall see
the world again."
Touchingly faithful were the visits of Mrs. Anagnos to the silent room of
Alice. All the blind people loved this woman whom they could not see, but
whose presence was a spiritual benediction. Her heart Was always with them,

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and when she lay dying, her last request was, Don't forget my poor blind
Christmas was drawing near; streets were crowded and bells were ringing
again; the mellowness of autumn lingered, and there was an April blue in the
December sky.
"I shall see the world to-morrow," said Alice.
"Yes, to-morrow," said the doctor; "and your father and friends will be
It was Christmas afternoon. Alice sat in a dim room, the bandages had
long been removed from her eyes, and she had seen Mrs. Anagnos in the
shadows, and had kissed her face. For a few days, indeed, she had sat in a
room that was almost light. She had been tempted again and again to lift the
curtain, and open the blind, and steal one glimpse of the new world.
Her father came. She looked upon his old hard hands -into his eyes.
They were like her own. His hair was white not like hers. Were other
men's heads so white? One of the teachers had sent her a Christmas rose.
How lovely it was How pitiable it seemed that any one should be unable to
see it! Dr. Howe came, his soul of love shining through his noble face. The
doctor came he who had promised to be her friend and the patriarch.
Shadow people were they all, but such glorious shadow people !
The doctor's hair was not white; it was like her own. His face was not
white; it was olive, and a rose was on it. Alice was filled with wonder at the
stately shadow people, but her heart went out to the doctor at once. Was it
not he who had said, I will be your friend "?
Wait till the sun goes into a cloud," said the hospital doctor. A shadow
passed over the glimmering window. Now! "
The curtain was lifted.
There it lay- the Day Beautiful! The blue sky, with the sun curtained in
a cloud; the broad city, with its dome; the long harbor, with its white sails;
the streets full of people; the parks; the far horizons; there it lay, the world;
and she had come among the people of all this beautiful existence to be one
of them.
This is Christ's day," she said.
Are other days like this? "
Yes all."
"And I shall see them? Oh, what a bliss it will be to live! "
She turned to her friend the doctor with streaming eyes, and said, It was
you that promised to be my friend. I owe this all to you."


No," he said ; it was the mouse, the singing mouse."
It was not a common mouse. Do you think so?"
No; it was a singing mouse."
I did not mean that; it was all a finger of something." She held out her
hand and looked at her own finger. I can't tell what I want to say. Don't
you know, doctor?"

It was a wet day in February; I recall it well. It had rained and rained,
and all the tall houses were dripping. It had been announced that a private


citizen would that day lie in state in Faneuil Hall. The Shaw Guards were to
escort the remains thither, and stand guard over them. He had never held
an office; he had never led Senates or armies, or anything but the march of
human thought. Yet the great square filled with people in the rain. Faneuil


Hall market-places were full of drenched people, poor people, shivering
people, teamsters, old farmers, Irishmen, Irishwomen, colored men, colored
women, children, folk from out of town, men of the trades, an army of laborers.
Social leaders were not there; politicians were not there, men who trade in
the hopes of the poor were not there; nor any who, under any pretext, take
from the poor their birthright. But the squares were full. There was a dirge
in the rain, a procession of black faces, and then a stay in the pouring rain; after
which the great tide of hearts was allowed to pour into the hall.
A man and a very beautiful woman came with the surging crowd, and as the
woman bent over to kiss the white form of the dead, it seemed as if her heart
was broken. The man was compelled to force her away that others might rain
tears on the cold roses. That woman was Alice Meadowcraft Holly, and the
man was her husband, the doctor. Then I thought of the singing mouse, of
the Day Beautiful, and of the good Angel of Faith, whose hand, unseen, had
been in it all.

Another of these stories which the American practical mind, unlike
the Eastern, seeks to explain, was a mid-New-England fireside tale which
has found many versions, of which the following is one.


ONE April morning in the early part of the present century, a very curious
group of farmers might have been seen in an old blacksmith's shop near the
village of Henniker, N. H., intent on discussing a remarkable event that had
recently occurred in the neighborhood.
A common farm-horse, of no especial note, except it was white, had walked
in the night across the deep torrents of Contoocook River at a point where
the bridge had been lately washed away by a freshet, carrying a young woman
on his back. The river at the time was swollen, and from twelve to fifteen feet
deep. The night was dark and cloudy, and had followed an early spring tem-
pest, which the farmers had called the breaking-up of winter." The young
woman was not aware that the bridge had been carried away until the day after
this mysterious crossing of the swollen stream.
The event was regarded as well-nigh miraculous, and had caused great excite-
ment in the usually quiet little village. The proof was positive that the horse
had crossed the torrent, and people came daily to visit the old white animal in
the stable; and the poor creature that had led an uneventful life of good and


steady service among the roads, fields, and pastures of the Contoocook received
the name of The Miraculous Horse.
How many people in Henniker many years ago were familiar with the story
of The Enchanted Horse in the Arabian Nights," or with the Magic Horse of
Dan Chaucer's delightful fiction, we do not know. But many of them were
proud that their town had produced a horse that could walk upon the water,
even if he could not fly.
There were other people, in a very small minority, as is usual in such cases,
or was at that time, who believed that some natural explanation could be found
for the feat of the water-walking horse, and that time would bring to light some
curious solution of the mystery.
Such was the state of the public mind on this blue April morning that
found a gathering of rugged farmers at the old New Hampshire smithy.
The occasion of the extraordinary gathering was as follows: Smith Smart,
the honest blacksmith, had been told the day before, by Samuel Samson, the
owner of The Miraculous Horse, that the latter would ride over to the smithy
the next morning, and have the white horse shod. The interesting animal had
not been shod since he had walked upon the water on the cloudy night. Smith
Smart therefore regarded the shoeing of the horse as a matter of no common
concern, and he had told his friends to come around" and see the shoes set
on the miraculous roadster, and further discuss the mystery.
"What time did Samson say that he would be here? asked old Judge Camp-
bell, stamping the snow from his feet, and holding his great hands over the fire
of the smithy.
About nine, I guess," said the blacksmith, bearing down on the lever of the
bellows, and so sending a red flame into the air which touched the judge's coat-
Cracky! don't you burn me said the judge. I am not made of iron or
steel, if I do sit upon the bench and administer justice. There he comes now,
I do declare. I don't know how it may be with the rest of you, but I can't see
anything peculiar about that old white horse. He is just a horse, a white horse,
to me; and I wouldn't have given twenty dollars for him before he walked
across the Contoocook on the water.
Farmer Samson came riding up to the smithy. He had often done so
before, as now, on horseback, and neither he nor the horse had been objects of
any special interest to anybody. But he came now gravely and silently, as
though he were a prophet, and the heavens were about to fall; and the old
farmers gaped at the horse with open mouths and wide eyes. The farmer dis-
mounted, and left the horse standing in the April sun, that poured through the
great doors of the smithy.


"Well," he said at last, "there he is. If you can shoe the air and the
water, shoe him. These are solemn times, judge, solemn times Signs and
wonders, wheels within wheels, like Ezekiel's vision; and I don't know what
the world is a-comin' to. I sometimes think that the times of Cotton Mather
and ghosts and flying women are about to return again to New Eni.inJ.
It is a mystery why fate should set its sign on that old white horse, but so
it is."
The horse stood there, very quiet and demure. He did not look as though
he had been the medium of any special revelation. He did not so much as
wink. He was worn with hard work of many years ; had an intelligent, reliable
look; did not fear the forge; and seemed to be glad that spring had come, and
to enjoy the sunshine. No one would have taken him for an oracle.
Samson, did you ever notice anything peculiar about that horse before
that awful night? asked the judge.
No; only he is the most sure-footed animal I ever had. Whatever I set
him to doin', he will do, plough without a driver; furrow without lines ; go
home from mill all alone with a bag of meal on his back, and leave the grist at
the door. He never had no antics nor capers, nor nothing' of that kind; but he
has had the strongest horse-sense of any animal I ever knew. Seems as though
sometimes he had a soul. I always thought that I would hate to kill him when
he became old. He might haunt me.
"He carried me to be married, and bore away two of my children to their
graves; and Martha would have been dead, too, if he had n't a-walked over the
water like a spirit horse in the dead o' night, under the scudding clouds, and
brought the doctor just in the nick o' time. Poor old Jack! there are not
many more weddings and funerals for you to go to in my family. I do think,
judge, that there ought to be some law to protect an old family horse, a
hospital, or something. "
Samson twined his fingers in the animal's mane.
I always noticed that that animal had a kind of far-away look in his eye,
as though he was sort of pryin' into futurity," said old Deacon Bonney. It's
a case like Balaam, you may depend. It ain't no use talking ; your Martha is a
good woman, and she was goin' to die without a doctor, and the powers above
just let the good old white horse have his way; and he went over the river,
waterfalls and all, dry shod, like the Israelites of old, He was uplifted."
He never went over the Contoocook River dry shod, without there was
something' under his feet," said the village schoolmaster, Ephraim Cole, who
had come with the rest, as the day was Saturday and a holiday. Even the
Israelites had the winds to help them. There are no effects without causes,


and that horse went across the river in some perfectly natural way, you may
be sure. Wait and see. Time will tell the truth about all things."
Samson," said the judge, "I want you to tell us the true story of that
night, while Smart sets the shoes on that marvellous animal."
Smith Smart plied the lever again. The forge began to blaze. Some new
shoes were dropped into the fire, and the blacksmith began to pare down the
horse's hoofs with his steel scraper. The horse was quite used to these things,
and did not move, except at the will of the smith.
He is the patientest horse to be shod that ever I see," said Smart.
Always was. I noticed that years ago. I always thought that there was
something' mysterious about him."
The men sat down on sooty benches and boxes, and Samson began his
strange story.
Well, this is how it was, this way, as I remember. It was early in March,
of a Tuesday night. Wife began to feel sick in the evening: chills, and fever
flashes. Then she began to have a difficulty of breathing and I see that she was
threatened with pneumonia, and says I to Minnie, my daughter, 'You bridle
Jack and go for the doctor as quick as you can. 'T is a dark night, but
Jack knows the way. He's been after the doctor in the night before. Wrap
up warm, and don't mind the thunder. It will be cold when you cross the
bridge, so wrap up warm.'
I had n't heard then that the bridge had been carried away by the freshet.
Well, Minnie, she bridled up Jack and started. It was a troubled night; I
could hear the wind in the branches of the trees, and see the clouds scud across
the half-moon. The wind was keen, and Minnie drew the shawl over her head,
and gave Jack the rein, and let him go.
Well, when they came to the bridge, or the place where the bridge was,
Minnie drew the shawl more closely about her ears, and dropped the rein;
and Jack walked right across the river, carefully like, and Minnie never so
much as thought that there was no bridge there, except once during a flash
o' lightning. The water was pouring down from the hills in torrents. There
had n't been such a freshet for years. Minnie called the doctor, and returned
in the same way.
The doctor came late, and foufid wife very sick ; and I incline to think that
his coming' just saved her. After givin' her medicines, he said to me, said he,
I should have been here before, but for the bridge being washed away. It is
a bad road round.'
"'The bridge washed away?' said I.
No, doctor,' said Minnie, 'the bridge is not washed away. I went over it,
and came back the same way.'


"' No, no,' said the doctor, said he, in surprise, there is no bridge over this
part of the Contoocook. You must have been dreaming, Minnie. The horse
went round.'
"'No, doctor, I crossed the bridge direct. You will find it so by the
horse's tracks. There was a minute or two that seemed to me kind o' strange,
There came a flash of lightning and all around me looked like water.'
"Wife was better in the morning and I had to go to the river. I followed
the tracks of Jack goin' and coming The horse certainly went to the river, and
as Minnie was gone but half an hour, and it would have been an hour's hard
riding to have gone and returned the other way, the horse surely crossed the
But to make the matter clear beyond a doubt, Minnie's scarf blew off
while crossing' the river, and we saw it on the next day at the place that she
crossed on a rock in the river. My hired man found the horse's tracks on the
other side of the river.- No, sure as preachin', and the stars above us, that
horse crossed the river with Minnie on his back. It was a supernatural event
of some kind. The horse crossed the bridge, and there was no bridge to
There was another confirmation to this amazing story, a rheumatic old
woman living near the river, who stood by her window that night, looking out
on the breaking clouds. There came a flash of 11litnin;L, and she saw a white
horse with a black rider, walking on the water in the middle of the river. She
said that she had seen her death fetch."
A long silence followed the emphatic there! of the blacksmith. It was
broken by the mathematical schoolmaster.
Will you let me ride the horse down to the river after he is shod? If
Minnie could cross where there is no bridge, I can."
You can? exclaimed a chorus of voices.
"Just follow me," he continued. "I think I can show you all how a horse
can walk upon the water. What has been done, can be done."
Mounting the horse, the schoolmaster rode to the edge of the swollen river,
where the old bridge had been. But he did not stop there. Old Jack went on,
not stepping far into the water, but seemingly walking upon it. Very care-
fully went the horse, but steadily, as though feeling his way. The men gazed
in wonder.
That stream is ten feet deep," said one.
Was there ever such a sight before, a horse walking upon the water ?"
said another.
When Jack reached the other side, the old schoolmaster turned his head,


and waved his hat. He then turned the horse's head, and the two came back
again, like a general and his war-steed. It was noticed that before taking a
step forward, Jack lifted high his right fore-foot and very carefully felt for a
place on which to rest it, as though there were hard and reliable places in the
gliding water.
As soon as the schoolmaster returned, he clasped the horse around the
neck, and said,-
Jack, you are a good animal, and know more than most other people do."
The farmers began to investigate. They walked into the river. They
found that they, too, could walk upon the water. A line of posts covered by
wide strips of board belonging to the old bridge, had not been carried away,
but remained about half a foot under the surface, the foaming current passing
over them.
Time tells the truth about all things," repeated the schoolmaster, and
there are no effects without causes."
That was risky business," said the judge.
It was a very thoughtful procession that followed the trustworthy old white
horse back to the smithy. Then the old breadcart man came along, with a
jingle of bells, and the judge bought five cakes of gingerbread and treated the
company at the blacksmith's.
Cracky !" continued the judge, philosophically, fingers are fingers, and
thumbs are thumbs. If we haven't a miraculous horse, we have a miraculous
schoolmaster. Let us be thankful, deacon. What do you say? "
And the Deacon said, Amen."
And the bluebirds sang, and the woodpeckers pecked, and flocks of robins
chorused, Cheer up, cheer up! in the gnarled old apple-trees, and all the
world went on happily, as before.

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HE journey began to Mexico and La Guayra. One
day in the Garden Mr. Van der Palm said to Percy,
I have business which will take me to the city
of Mexico for some months, and then to Caracas
for a few weeks. I shall then go to Pernambuco,
and thence sail on a Portuguese steamer directly
for Lisbon, stopping for a short time at the Cape Verd Islands and
the Canaries. Here is a map; let me trace the route with a pencil."
Mr. Van der Palm slowly traced the route to Mexico, South
America, and Europe.
I should think such a journey," said Percy, "would be one of the
most delightful in all the world."
It is. I know the route well. The valley of the City of Mexico
is one of the most beautiful spots in North America, and there are few
places in the world more beautiful than Caracas and Valentia in the
Maritime Andes. The sea-route from Brazil to Portugal by way of
the Southern Islands is unequalled at the right seasons of the year."
You will be gone a year? "

"And I?"
I shall take you with me. You will begin your studies in educa-
tional travel in the City of Mexico. You will find it a good place to
commence Latin-America Spanish. You can continue the study in
Caracas and Valentia; take Portuguese in Pernambuco, and Castilian
Spanish at the port of Gibraltar and at Barcelona. You will be able
to learn at these ports the commercial law and usages of Spain and
Portugal, and to study the literature of those countries in the
original language."
Where shall we go from Lisbon and the ports of Spain ?"
To all the consular ports of the Mediterranean. It will be a zig-
zag journey, as I shall not follow the coast on either side, but pass
from the port cities of one coast to the other, as my commission
The journey thus planned was at once begun. In Monterey, Percy
spoke his first Buenos dias, Senor; Felizes trades, Senora; Como lo pasa,
used? In the City of Mexico he began to hear, for the first time,
those characteristic Spanish words, in which may be read the decline
of the Latin empire in the New World, Hasta manana (until
to-morrow). Here he also began to be familiar with those terms of
elegant and deferential politeness which form a part of all the dialogue
of Spanish America: Con mucho gusta; A los pies de used, At the
feet of you (to ladies); and Beso a used los manos, Caballero, I kiss
your hands (to gentlemen).
Here he was not rudely asked to sit down in cold business terms,
but, Be pleased to sit down;" and he received not one thank for any
favor that he did, but a thousand, mil gracias.
Here, too, instead of the old Washington garden, he used to go
out to study on the Paseo, which we must describe and picture.

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The Paseo, from the plaza of the City of Mexico to the castle and
gardens of Chapultepec, is probably the most beautiful street in the
New World. It is certainly the most historic. It was trodden by
ancient monarchs and priests of the Sun; by Montezumas, caciques,
and Spanish viceroys; and now, at last, by the people's presidents.
Its history and traditions cover a period of one thousand years, and no
other street in the New World has such a record.
The street, or boulevard, or paseo, is some three miles long, and
stretches from the place where the great Mexican pyramid once stood,
but where now is the cathedral and official palace, to the Castle of
Chapultepec, which was once the famous Halls of the Montezumas.
It is one long procession of statuary. It might be called the boulevard
of the Montezumas. One leaves the grand plaza, where once the great
pyramid stood, passes the old palace of Iturbide (the first Mexican
monarch after the overthrow of the Spanish power), the Alemada (a
music park of enchanting beauty), and comes to two colossal statues
of Montezumas. He is now in the Paseo proper. The vista before


him is one of the most beautiful in the world. The highway is lined
with Spanish cypress and eucalyptus trees, and is sentinelled, as it were,
with statues of heroes. Around it stretch meadows of flowers and
alfalfa grass. Clarinas sing in the air, and at the end rise the white
porticos of Chapultepec, over gigantic trees and beautiful gardens, and
shine down on the city like things of life and joy.
But this is not all; over the white castle and the gardens of giant
cypresses, gray with mosses and crumbling with the shadows of centu-

L _-


ries, loom Popocatapetl and Istaccihuatl like white clouds in the sky,
a pearly splendor of glistening snow. The first of these dead volca-
noes is higher than Mount Blanc, or any mountains in Europe. One
may here gather oranges and one hundred varieties of Mexican roses,
and tread the alfalfa meadows, and then glance upward to crystal
winters of the sky.

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~,---- ;1


The tourist who would see the glory and grandeur of this historic
highway would do well to devote to it a day, and to make his first visit
to the National Museum, which joins the palace in the plaza. Here
he will see Chae Mool, the Aztec god of fire, and the stone statue of


Death. The Aztec sacrificial stone is here, and the Calendar Stone.
A study of the latter great stone puzzle will give to his mind the proper
historical mood and coloring for the three-mile journey to Chapultepec,
over which he is to pass.
What is the meaning of this mysterious Calendar Stone ? The
view in Mexico follows a famous lecture by Philip G. G. Valentini,


published by F. P. Hoeck, that it was an altar for human sacrifices.
The learned archaeologist thus interprets it: -
"I will, in the first place, inform you in what year, by whose
order, and upon what particular festival occasion this stone disk was
first made.
It was, according to our reckoning, about the year 1478, or nearly
four hundred years ago, and only two years before the death of the
then reigning king of Mexico, Axayacatl, that he was reminded by
the high priest of the State of a vow that he had once made, who
spoke as follows (I will give the long text of the Indian writer,
Tezozomoc, in the fewest words): '" The building of the large sacrificial

IT J1.-1', I ,,. ', ,''. .. :-.- I-_. .. :. ,,'
;.. _. .. .. ,1 : -, '
; ... A

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pyramid which you have undertaken approaches its end. You vowed
to decorate it with a beautiful work, in which the preserver of man-
kind, Huitzilopochtli, could take pleasure. Time presses; do not
delay the work any longer." I think," said the king, "to replace
the sacrificial stone which my father once devoted to the god of the
sun, with a new one. Let that be laid aside, but carefully preserved.
I will give the laborers provisions and clothing that they may select
the most proper stone from the quarries, and I will send the sculptor
gold, cocoa, and colored cloth, that he may engrave a picture of the
sun as it is surrounded by our other great gods." So the workmen
went out and quarried the stone, laying it upon rollers, and fifty thou-
sand strong men rolled it along. But as it was upon the bridge of


Xoloc, the beams gave way, the bridge broke in pieces, the stone fell
into the water, and no one dared to remove it from the bottom of the
lake. Then the king was angry and said, "Let them build a new
bridge, with double beams and planks, and bring a new stone from the
quarries of Cuyoacan. Let them bring a second stone here, out of
which a trough may be made to receive the blood which flows as
expiation from the sacrificial stone." When the stone had been


condition, there was a feast of joy. Then was the question asked,

it was placed in position, we read that it was sunk in the surface of
K -- '.,

the length of twenty cubits. Before it the trough was placed. A

bloody festival was held for the dedication of this sacrificial slab, and,
quarrie and pr" epared -,.a had been rolled the bridg in oo
cdihe aae of.joy. Then was the qei asked,,
s in t e p o th 'r

the length oftwnits Bf ta '


quarried and prepared, and had been rolled over the bridge in good
condition, there was a feast of joy. Then was the question asked,
How should the immense stone be placed on the pyramid ? After
it was placed in position, we read that it was sunk in the surface of
an altar. The altar is of stone, of the height of eight men, and of
the length of twenty cubits. Before it the trough was placed. A
bloody festival was held for the dedication of this sacrificial slab, and


upon it thousands of victims were slain. The king, as chief sacrifice,
on the first day killed a hundred of victims with his own hand, drank
of their blood, and ate of their flesh; and so arduous was his labor,
and so much did he eat, that he became sick, and soon after died. He
had only time to have his portrait sculptured upon the surface of the
rock of Chapultepec, according to the custom of Mexican kings.' So
much for Tezozomoc's report.
That the sacrificial stone here mentioned is the one still extant,
I will, in addition to the description, bring a still further proof. No
doubt this stone served for all their bloody sacrifices up to the year
1521. In that year the Spaniards captured the city; and Cortez
ordered the destruction of the entire pyramid, and that the canals
of the city be filled with its fragments. Neither Cortez nor Bernal
Diaz, nor any of the chroniclers of the conquerors, make mention of
the existence of any such monument as the afore-described stone.
They did not undertake its destruction; nay, they even placed it in
the market-place, on exhibition, where the pyramid once stood. This
we have from a missionary chronicler named Duran, between the
years 1551 and 1569, who says he has always seen it in the same place,
and that there has been so much talk about it, among Spaniards and
natives, that finally his eminence, the Bishop of Montufar, took
umbrage, and ordered its burial in the place where it stood, in order
that the memory of the infamous actions that had been perpetrated
upon it might be blotted out. Until the year 1790 no one of the
many writers on Mexican antiquities has made the least mention of
it. In that year the repair of the pavement of the market-place was
undertaken. In a deep excavation the laborers struck a slab of stone
which gave such a hollow sound from the stroke of the iron that they
thought a treasure-vault might be concealed under it. When they
lifted the slab they found no treasure-vault, but were astonished when
they beheld on one side, the spectacle of this incomparable treasure
of ancient Mexican art. The clergy wished it to be again buried,


but the art-loving and liberal viceroy, Revillagigedo, ordered it to be
exposed. He caused it to be built in on the southerly side of the
cathedral, in the ashlar work of one of its towers, so that all could see
it. Here it remained until the year 1885, when it was removed to
the National Museum, where it now stands.
No one had then the least idea that such a stone had ever
existed, or for what purpose it might have served. The archaeologists
said at once that it must have some connection with the worship of
the sun. They thought the shield in the centre represented the
ancient sun-god; and as they found the always well-known twenty
pictures of the days of the Mexican month engraved about in a circle,
they gave to the disk the name by which it is still known,- the Mex-
ican Calendar Stone.
The ancient Mexicans had a superstition that the sun-god would
destroy the world in the last night of the fifty-second year, and that
he would never come back. To prevail on him to remain, they offered
to him of their own free will. the greatest sacrifices; not a human
life only, but also on all their hearths, and in all their dwellings and
temples, they extinguished their fires. They left it to the goodness of
the god to give them back this element so necessary to mankind.
They broke all their household furniture; they hung black masks
before their faces ; they prayed and fasted; and on the evening of the
last night they formed a great procession to a neighboring mountain.
Arriving, there is found a man lying on a circular stone, who gives
himself voluntarily as a sacrifice to the god. Exactly at the midnight
hour a priest thrust a knife into his breast, tore out the heart, and
raised it toward the starry heavens with uplifted hands, while another
priest laid a small round block of dry soft wood upon the open wound,
and a third priest, springing on the stone and kneeling over the body,
placed a hard stick perpendicularly on the block, which he then with
his hands caused to revolve. This violent friction produced a spark,
which was caught up, and was immediately carried to a neighboring


funeral pile, whose rising flame proclaimed to the people the promise
of the god to delay for a season the destruction of the world, and to
grant to mankind a new lease of fifty-two years of existence."

This is thrilling history. The tourist may now go out into the
open air, under the blue sky, pass the palace, the cathedral, the flower
and bird market, and enter San Francisco Street on his way to the
wonderful Paseo.
The great cathedral shines like the sun, holding its great bells in
air. The palace where the great pyramid once stood throngs with
bright, happy faces. The bazaars are gay with color. Women with-

r A


out bonnets, or any head covering, mingle with the gayly dressed
senors; and lazy, happy peons, as the poorer classes of Mexicans are
called, sit in the sun along the crowded way.
Passing the old palace of Iturbide, now a grand hotel, one pauses
at the Alemada, and rests among the statues and fountains in the
deep cool shadows of cathedral-like trees. Or perhaps he crosses a




~~ __~__ ~_ _~ ____~_ ___ __~_ i__i_ _=_ _~~~ __ _~_~____

II- ~~I



street or two beyond the Alemada, and visits the Mexican garden of
the dead, called the Pantheon, in the shadows of the crumbling church
of San Fernando. Here is the pyramidal tomb of Juarez, hung
with wreaths of immortelles from all the Mexican States, and bright
with living flowers. In the chamber of the pyramid is the effigy of

,.~ ,-.

the emancipator of Mexico in white marble. It represents Juarez as
lying dead on the lap of Mexico, the face of the goddess nation being
turned to the sun. It is one of the most beautiful works of art in
America. Iturbide was the first monarch of Mexico. He threw off
the Spanish yoke; but it was Juarez who made the Indian races free
and gave them the rights of men.
Entering the Paseo between the statues of the Montezumas, the
charm of the wonderful highway begins. Before the tourist rises a


most beautiful statue of Columbus, surrounded, as it were, by a court
of Montezumas and later heroes. One of these monuments is very
.painful, but long holds the eye. It
.. reprel.entst twvo Aztec kings, chained
I t:,- bIl<,k- ,:, oi stone, and being t..i.tured
ll by thiae :-'. o 'hv: e li ghted
fI1- -" slcii h eo s i,,und,-r thiir feet to make
], l .-^'- tlem disc-i,,~>e tlih ir t:srca.Ii r C ..u of gold.
.n :.a side ot thie Paseo is
thie uin ,f gigantic a:11 lidIct man-

... -, -:

ad nI


tied with vines. The way is lined with heavy stone seats. Cool
trees wave above them. Out of these shadowy vistas one sees the
houses of Mexican officials and foreign ministers, prison-like look-


ing structures on the outside, but beautiful within, where patios or
open courts, surrounded by zulas or halls, stand open to the sky.
Chapultepec glimmers in the distance, -a pile of simple beauty
that haunts one forever.
The castle and gardens of Chapultepec! Who can describe them?
Their charm is overwhelming, and yet money did not nor could not
create them. There is poetry and sentiment in the air. The birds
sing of the spirit of the place. One sits down under the ancient
cypresses, some of which are fifty feet in circumference, and pictures
the past. Here were the halls of the Montezumas; here a romantic
viceroy, Galvez, lifted his white palace out of the ruins of the past;
here Carlotta saw a few happy days; and here come the cantering
presidents of the last republic to spend their summers One won-
ders how the American soldiers ever scaled the walls of rock-ribbed
From the airy porticos one looks down upon the white city burn-
ing in pure, clear sunlight, and up to the mountains that glimmer in
the cerulean splendor of the far sky, and feels that this is the throne
of beauty in the New World. Below are the old baths of the
Montezumas, and close at hand is the military academy. Clarinas
.-i,, ; soldiers without occupation march to and fro; glittering officers
on slick ponies and gay saddles disappear in the winding ways of the
ancient cypresses; children play about the cages of native wild animals
in the cool gardens below, and afar the air is a melody of bells.
But the present vanishes from the mind. Here the tourist, be he
a poet or not, dreams. The visions of Prescott's history rise before
him. The vanished courts of the Montezumas glitter around him,
and in fancy he sees the localli smoking where the melodious city
now stands.
As he returns past the orange sellers, the flower-girls, and the
pulque dealers, he is perhaps glad that the native Indian races are
again masters of their own country. Juarez was an Indian; President


Diaz has native blood. The Indian races in all Spanish-American
countries are retrieving their ancient rights, and are seeking to put
education in the place of ignorance. The influence of the Latin
conquerors is failing and departing, and the halls of the viceroys are
being changed into seats of learning. In this movement, the Mexican
President leads, and the twentieth century will be likely to find the
beautiful Paseo of Mexico more glorious than in all the eventful and
picturesque centuries of the past.

After six months' studies in Mexico, under a Spanish teacher, Percy
accompanied his father to Caracas, whose port is La Guayra. At this
port he made the acquaintance of genial Consul Hanna; and at the
window of the consulate that looked out on a narrow street, he listened
to many stories of the Spanish Main, one of which we give here, -
our first story of a consulate: -


IF a feeling of superstition with regard to unlucky vessels were ever pardon-
able, it must surely have been so in the case of the brig Crawford," owned
first at Freetown, Mass., and afterwards for many years at Warren, R. I.
It would seem as if no nervous person, acquainted with her history, could
have trod her decks in the still midnight watches upon the ocean, without a
creeping sensation of dread.
The writer has a distinct recollection of this little full-rigged brig, as a
vessel which figured prominently among the notable craft of his boyhood.
There were dark stains on her deck which had the appearance of iron rust, but
which all knew were not iron rust. She had been the scene of a tragedy that,
with its associations, was one of the most remarkable upon record.
Her whaling voyages from Warren, of which she made a number, were
all unfortunate in a pecuniary sense. From one of them, after an absence of
fourteen months, she returned without having taken a drop of oil, her cap-
tain having actually been obliged to purchase a supply for the binnacle lamp
at some foreign port.
By Geo. H. Coomer, in the "Household," by permission.



But the one dreadful event of her history had occurred while she belonged
to Freetown. In fact, it was chiefly in consequence of this that she was sold
to her purchasers in Warren, her original owners feeling that they could no
longer bear to look upon her.
It was, I think, about 1829, that the Crawford sailed for the West Indies,
under the command of a Captain Brightman, whose crew consisted of his two
mates, a cook, and three foremast hands.
Her outward cargo was disposed of at Havana, and she was nearly ready
for the homeward voyage when four Spaniards came on board, seeking for a
passage to the United States. They were villanous-looking fellows, with
swarthy faces and flashing black eyes.
The mate advised Captain Brightman not to accept them, and urged his
objections with some force. The captain himself hesitated at first; but the
thought of the passage-money was too tempting, and he finally consented to
take the strangers on board.
One of the four passengers could speak English, but his companions knew
only Spanish. After the brig had been at sea a few days, the cook detected
this man, whose name was Tardy, in the act of sprinkling some white substance
on a quantity of food in the galley. Tardy explained that the article was a
kind of seasoning well known in Cuba, and that he wished the officers and
crew to try its flavor.
The cook scraped off as much of it as he could; but, although the fact of
his doing so shows that he must have had a suspicion of foul play, he unfor-
tunately did not make known the incident until too late. He may have thought
that his knife had removed all danger.
Immediately after eating, the captain and chief mate were taken violently
ill. The foremast hands also felt some bad effects from their meal, though in
a less degree; but the second mate escaped, as his duties on deck had kept
him from eating with the captain. As to the four passengers, they, of course,
had taken care not to touch the food on which the white powder had been
It was now that the terrified cook told the mate what had occurred in the
galley. But in a few moments his voice was silenced forever. He was struck
down by the murderous pirates, who, seeing that their work was but half accom-
plished by the poison, at once proceeded to complete it with their knives.
The captain and chief mate they killed in the cabin; the cook and one of
the foremast hands were murdered close by the windlass, on the forward part
of the deck; while another sailor was killed as he stood at the wheel.
Meanwhile, the second mate, whose name was Durfee, and a man named


Allen Bicknell, ofBarrington, R. I., who were now the only survivors, ran aloft,
in the forlorn hope of thus saving their lives. The pirates fired at Bicknell
with pistols, wounding him as he stood in the foretop.
Tardy now hailed the second mate, promising to spare his life if he would
come down, as they required him to navigate the vessel. He accordingly
decended, and was not harmed. Seeing the officer in present safety, Bicknell,
the poor sailor, already wounded, asked if they would spare him also. Upon
receiving a reply in the affirmative, he came painfully down the rigging; but
the moment he reached the deck he was killed.
The vessel was now entirely in the possession of these monsters, and the
feelings of Durfee must have been indescribable, as he realized the extent of
the tragedy and his own dreadful situation.
He knew, of course, that the pirates would never, if they could help it,
permit him to leave the vessel alive. It might serve their purpose to spare
him for a time, but unless he should be able to hit upon some manner of
deliverance, the fate of his shipmates must at last be his.
The bodies of the victims were thrown into the sea, and the four murder-
ous scoundrels then commenced searching the cabin, being apparently aware
that she had on board a considerable amount of money. This they brought
on deck and divided, all the while talking rapidly in Spanish.
Tardy now informed the second mate that the brig must be taken to South
America. Durfee well knew that should he carry the wretches to that part of
the world, his own doom would be sealed the moment they reached its shores.
He sought for some excuse to land elsewhere and fortunately found one.
I can take you to South America," he said, but for such a voyage we
must have more water. We have only enough to last for a short time, and we
may be sixty or seventy days on the passage."
Tardy uttered a Spanish oath or two, and then asked if a supply could not
be obtained by entering some inlet of the coast where there would be no
danger of capture.
Yes," replied Durfee, glad that the pirate had anticipated a proposition
which he himself had intended to make. We could run in at night and get
out before morning. Then we should be all ready for a voyage to South
America or anywhere else."
Tardy flourished his knife fiercely before the face of his helpless prisoner,
thus indicating what would be done in case of the least attempt at deception.
Durfee's nerves had already suffered terribly, and it was only by the greatest
effort that he could maintain anything like an appearance of calmness.
Hastily running over in his thoughts the various inlets of the coast, he

K;>, ti'l ". tS

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resolved upon making for Chesapeake Bay. He was far, however, from telling
the pirates of his decision, but led them to suppose that the destination was
some obscure nook among islands and promontories. It was fortunate for him
that they knew nothing whatever of the coast, and were ignorant even of the
existence of the wide water sheet which he had in mind.
He used to relate that while the vessel was running on the course he had
chosen, and he was filled with the most dreadful anxiety lest his plans should,
after all, miscarry, Tardy would come to him, and with oaths, boast of the
murders he had committed.
Great was Durfee's anxiety as the brig made the land. Soon his fate would
be decided. He thought with a sickening sensation of the pirates' threats, but
he thought, too, of the fort at Old Point Comfort; and upon this his hope
rested. It must, of course, be approached at night; and luckily the Spaniards
were as anxious for the cover of darkness as was he himself, so that he was
permitted to keep off shore until past sunset.
Then the little brig stood in under all sail. With a fine breeze she passed
Cape Henry, and continued her course up the bay. It was for Durfee an hour
of unspeakable suspense. At any moment the pirates might take alarm, and
he felt almost a surprise to find that they did not do so. Here and there
could be seen distant lights, but the shores were hidden in darkness, and the
evil-eyed wretches, wary as they were, seemed not to suspect treachery.
Being for the time in command, as navigator and pilot, the anxious officer
was at the wheel, while his unwelcome companions stood ready to shorten sail
and let go the anchor at his bidding. It may well be imagined that he
measured with every nerve alert each inch of the way.
The brig's yawl hung at the stern davits. He had made sure that its tackles
were in running order. How near to the fort would he dare to approach before
bringing the brig to?
Presently he directed his dangerous crew to take in the light sails and the
courses. Tardy repeated the order in Spanish, and it was obeyed.
Let go the topsail halyards," was the next command; and down came the
top-sail yards upon the caps.
Clearing his throat for another effort, Durfee felt that his heart-throbs were
almost suffocating. Nevertheless, he was able to command his voice.
Stand by to let go anchor! he cried, feeling that in another moment he
would know his fate. The four pirates ran to the windlass.
Let go "
There was a splash under the bow, and a swift paying out of the cable.
Just then Durfee sprang over the taffrail and into the boat, lowering it instantly,


and with a violent push sent it spinning from under the brig's counter; then,
seizing an oar, he commenced sculling with all his might. As he did so, he
heard the Spaniards rushing aft, but they were too late to get more than a
glimpse of him in the darkness.
The grim fortress at Old Point Comfort was not a quarter of a mile distant.
Durfee's calls drew the attention of the sentries, and in a few minutes there
were lights gleaming from a row of port-holes, with the black muzzles of cannon
looking threateningly forth into the darkness, and a dozen soldiers were at once
ordered to board the vessel. On reaching her, they found only three of the
pirates on deck. These were at once made prisoners. Hurrying into the
cabin, they found Tardy lying dead upon the floor. Struck with despair at
the impossibility of escape, he had chosen to die by his own hand rather than
to await the inevitable halter.
His three accomplices were tried and hanged at Norfolk. They died pro-
testing their innocence, and declaring that the entire guilt rested upon their
dead confederate.
As to poor Durfee, the second mate, after the dreadful scenes he had passed
through, he was never really himself. His nervous system had been thoroughly
Who can wonder that painful thoughts were always associated with the
" Crawford," or that a gloom should seem to invest even the old Warren wharf
where she used to lie?



ERCY was in Caracas on the first day of the last
revolution, when President Palacio issued his proc-
lamation that made the revolution inevitable.
Percy will never forget that scene as he stood in
the plaza of Bolivar.
It was a bright March day, and the circle of
hills a part of the "thousand hills "'of the Caraci shone serenely
in the clear purple sky. It is eternal springtime here. The port of
Caracas, La Guayra, three thousand feet below, is one of the hottest
cities in the three Americas, but the capital is cooled by its altitude.
Caracas stands on a plateau or valley in the maritime range of
the Andes, which here rise to a height of nearly ten thousand feet;
and the city itself is three thousand feet above its port and the sea.
It has a most romantic history, being associated with the names of
the early discoverers, with Drake, Raleigh, and the poetic cavalier,
Ponce de Leon.
Percy and his father had been wandering about the beautiful city,
among the crowds that stood telling each other with terribly serious
faces that great political events were at hand. They had seen the
solitary church that survived the great earthquake nearly a hundred
years ago, and had wondered how the worshippers in that church
must have felt on that eventful Saint's day, when they rushed to
the doors, to find that all the other churches and houses had gone
down, and twelve thousand people had perished! Every tourist who


is familiar with history sees in fancy that scene. They had been to
Calvario, or Calvary Hill, where Guzman Blanco, Venezuela's ambi-
tious ex-president, had made a park, as it were, in the sky, and placed
his own statue upon it, which was erected too soon, for the people
forced him into exile and tore it down.


On returning from the long walk they found the plaza and all the
public squares filled with excited people. They sat down in the plaza
near the statue of Bolivar.
The statue is a wonder, and commemorates the deeds of a most

i _

1 .e
7- *

- -



wonderful man. It was made in Germany, is equestrian, and to the
imagination, the horse of brass seems to have leaped proudly into the
air, leaving the hero in a most gracious attitude in his saddle to face
the people he had liberated. It is the pride of Caracas, as well it
may be, and one of the marvellous creations of art in the world.


The guards came out of the military palace in front of the plaza.
The press began to issue copies of the President's manifesto, and the
newsboys to sell them on the street. Every one knew what it was, but
desired to read it with his own eyes. His own life and destiny might
be involved in it.
Every copy was eagerly seized as it came out from the press, and
was read with staring eyes, and passed on to others.


It means war," was the one short sentence that passed from lip to
lip. In many cases those three words covered the thought, It means
me!" The Venezuelan well knows the meaning of a revolution.
The political situation may be briefly stated. President Palacio
desired a re-election by the House of Deputies. He saw that he
would fail to secure it, and imprisoned certain of the deputies for
political reasons; but it was popularly believed it was a
subterfuge that there might be left no quorum, and that he ;,j
might thus have an e::-- I f-r ,::!- s--
tinuing in office, in d ,cif ull -i .- -
election. He thus assiti A.:l di:t,-.-
rial powers, in the nani- ;ii',.l ii tlh,- e -, ',
interest of the liberal i:l t l iii
had done so much fi i -ii.:. i -
The Supreme Court dl.i-.li lrii- ii-
course illegal, and he iii.p-i- d ". -(
the judges. The coi.nlt -
rose against. -- '
,, ." =r -- T_- -_ .-- I-2_ --T .. ..I r--=_I

him; and Ca-
racas,the cap-
ital, found it-
self in a state
of siege.
The shad-
ows of the
high Andes
began to fall

-- ;

----- -f -
-- --


upon the valleys and the green palms and coffee plan-

stations of La Guayra. The top of Calvary Hill flashed in the paling
sun. The plaza and streets were black with men, each holding in
his hand- the white sheet of the manifesto.
The bells rang, it was Lent, and half-veiled women pushed
their way through the excited crowds to the golden churches.


It was not a noisy, but a silent crowd. There was an expression
of inquiry in every dark face. It was like those days of our own war,
when President Lincoln's proclamation made the pulses of great cities
to stand still. There was an awful silence in those crowds, and the
same was here.
A Venezuelan was with our travellers. He owned an estate in
the interior, twenty-four miles square, as large as a province. His


ILn I ,I
_. 1,_., "1

I I -
-"i -

_- -


brother had been killed in a former revolution, and he had lived much
in Europe and could speak English well.
He turned his face toward the grand statue of Bolivar, that looked
like a thing of life in the sunset of the Andes. He did not talk
politics. No one did. He simply said, They offered Simon Bolivar
the crown, and he answered them : I have achieved the liberation of


five countries. That is all the honor I desire!' His heart is in the
cathedral of Santa Martha, and his dust is in yonder Parthenon. I
would that his spirit were here!"
From Caracas, Percy sailed for Pernambuco. He was now in the
seas of the great American discoverers.

"The years roll back- we see again
Thy fleet, Columbus, dare the main,
Upborne by Faith, till rises fair
The new world in prophetic air !
The mighty waves yield to thy prow;
The stormy heavens before thee bow,
The sun stands still, and earth appears
A wheeling star 'mid circling spheres !
"Then Science rose ; then Learning woke;
And Freedom's voice to heroes spoke;
And Progress broke the chains of time,
And upward marched to heights sublime.
No day like this neathh purple skies
E'er met expectant prophets' eyes;
The drums of peace the roll-call beat,
And nations pass on children's feet!
0 Star of Faith, that led afar
Columbus, neathh the Hesperian Star,
Shine on the world's new march, and light
Hope's aspirations for the right !
Achievement waits yet bolder keels
Than broke the waves of old Antilles,
The unattained to find and prove
In virtue, brotherhood, and love "


"I keep the flag of my country always waving," said Consul Hanna
of La Guayra. Percy looked upon that flag as one of the most beau-
tiful objects in the narrow streets. It is one of the most beautiful
objects in. the world.
Do all consuls fly the American flag daily? asked Percy of his
father at the beginning of his voyage towards the islands of the Canary


"Consuls," said his father, have no claim to any foreign ceremo-
nial, but they may glory in the flag. The consular regulations as
issued from the State Department are something like this:-

'The consuls have a right to the private use of the flag, and the right to
place the national arms and the name of the consulate on the offices is given by
treaties with Austria-Hungary, Italy, and the Netherlands (and colonies); on



their offices or dwellings by treaty with Belgium and Germany; the right to
place the national flag on their dwellings, except where there is a legation, by
treaties with Austria-Hungary, Belgium, Germany, Roumania, and Serbia; the
right to place the arms, name, and flag on their offices or dwellings by treaties
with France and Salvador; and the right to place the name and flag on their
dwellings by treaty with Colombia.'

"And," added Mr. Van der Palm, the consular office in some coun-
tries, like the old Hebrew cities of refuge, is practically inviolable.


To quote the instructions:--
"' This inviolability of office and dwelling is secured by treaties with Bel-
gium, Bolivia, Corea, France, Germany (of consuls not citizens), Italy, Morocco,
Muscat, Roumania, Salvador, and Serbia; but the dwelling cannot be used as


S" ',,I .

suls are to be subject to the laws of the country, except as specially exmpt

y c n wh B G N, R,

-and Italy, the consul is exempted from arrest, except for crimes. By treaty with

an asylum. Ithe is agreentitled to suitable distinction and necessary aid and protectiwellings of con.
In Muscat he subject toys the involabilityws of the country, except as specially exempted
subjects of other powers.' '"

Department: -
"'By convention with Belgium, Germany, Netherlands, Rouania, Serbia

and Italy, the consul is exempted from arrest, except for crimes. By treaty with
an asylum. Ithe is entitagreed to suitabh Colombia that the personsion and necessary aid and protection-
In Msuls are to be subject toys the involabilityws of the country, except as specially exempted

In Muscat he enjoys the inviolability of a diplomatic officer. In Austria-


Hungary and France he is to enjoy personal immunities; but in France, if a
citizen of France, or owning property there, or engaged in commerce, he can
claim only the immunities granted to other citizens of the country who own
property, or to merchants. In Austria-Hungary and Roumania, if engaged in
business, he can be detained only for commercial debts. In Colombia, the
fourteen consuls of the United States have no diplomatic character. In Great
Britain, Liberia, Netherlands (as to colonies), Nicaragua, and Paraguay they are
regarded as appointed for the protection of trade.'

So you see that a consul in his little office somewhat resembles
the old Roman officer of that name. He has a little republic of his
Percy began to study Portuguese stories and poems on the ship,
which belonged to Lisbon. One of these stories, which we quote, we
found very curious. We give the version that we find in English



THERE lived once together a king and a queen, and a princess who was their
daughter. The princess had worn out every evening seven pair of slippers
made of iron; and the king could not make out how that could be, though
he was always trying to find out. The king at last issued a decree that who-
soever should be able to find out how the princess managed to wear out seven
pairs of slippers made of iron in the short space of time between morning and
evening, he would give the princess in marriage if he were a man, and if a
woman he would marry her to a prince.
It happened that a soldier was walking along an open country road, carry-
ing on his back a sack of oranges, and he saw two men fighting and giving
each other great blows.
The soldier went up to them and asked them, O men, why are you
giving each other such blows?"
"Why,. indeed should it be! they replied. Because our father is dead;
and he has left us this cap, and we both wish to possess it."
Is it possible that for the sake of a cap you should be fighting?" inquired
the soldier.


The men then said, "The reason is that this cap has a charm, and if any
one puts it on and says, 'Cap, cover me so that no one shall see me! no one
can see us."
The soldier upon hearing this said to them, I'll tell you what I can do
for you; you let me remain here with the cap whilst I throw this orange to a
great distance, and you run after it, and the one that shall pick it up first
shall be the possessor of the cap."
The men agreed to this, and the soldier threw the orange to a great dis-
tance, as far as he possibly could, whilst the men both ran to pick it up.
Here the soldier, without loss of time, put on the cap, saying, Cap, make me
invisible !"
When the men returned with the orange they could see nothing and nobody.
The soldier went away with the cap, and further on he met on his road two
other men fighting, and he said to them, 0 foolish men, why do you give
each other such blows? "
The men replied, Indeed, you may well ask why, if it were not that
father died and left us this pair of boots, and we each of us wish to be the
sole possessor of them."
The soldier replied, Is it possible that for the matter of a pair of boots
you should be fighting thus? "
And they replying said, "It is because these boots are charmed, and
when one wishes to go any distance he has only to say, 'Boots, take me here
or there,' wherever one should wish to go, and instantly they convey one to
any place."
The soldier said to them, "I will tell you what to do; I will throw an
orange to a great distance, and you give me the boots to keep. You run for
the orange, and the first that shall pick it up shall have the pair of boots."
He threw the orange to a great distance, and both men ran to catch it.
Upon this the soldier said, Cap, make me invisible, boots take me to the
city; and when the men returned they missed the boots and the soldier, for
he had gone away.
He arrived at the capital and heard the decree read which the king had
promulgated, and he began to consider what he had better do in this case.
" With this cap, and with these boots, I can surely find out what the princess
does to wear out seven pairs of slippers made of iron in one night."
He went and presented himself at the palace. When the king saw him he
said, Do you really know a way of finding out how the princess, my daughter,
can wear out seven pairs of slippers in one night?"
The soldier replied, I only ask you to let me try -"


But you must remember," said the king, that if at the end of three days
you have not found out the mystery, I shall order you to be put to death."
The soldier to this replied that he was prepared to take the consequences.
The king ordered him to remain in the palace. Every attention was paid to
all his wants and wishes ; he had his meals with the king at the same table, and
slept in the princess's room.
But what did the princess do? She took him a beverage to his bedside
and gave it to him to drink. This beverage was a sleeping-draught, which
she gave him to make him sleep all night.
Next morning the soldier had not seen the princess do anything, for he
had slept very soundly the whole night. When he appeared at breakfast the
king asked him, Well, did you see anything? "
Your Majesty must know that I have seen nothing whatever."
The king said, Look well what you are at, for now there only remains
two days more for you, or else you die! "
The soldier replied, I have not the least misgivings."
Night came on and the princess acted as before. Next morning the king
asked him again at breakfast, Well, did you see anything last night? "
The soldier replied, Your Majesty must know that I have seen nothing
"Be careful, then, what you do. Only one day more, and you die "
The soldier replied, I have no misgivings."
He then began to think it over. It is very curious that I should sleep all
night. It cannot be from anything else but from drinking the beverage which
the princess gives me. Leave me alone I know what I will do. When the
princess brings me the cup I shall pretend to drink, but shall throw away the
The night came, and the princess did not fail to bring him the beverage
to drink to his bedside. The soldier made a pretence to drink it, but instead
threw it away, and feigned sleep though he was awake.
In the middle of the night he saw the princess rise up, prepare to go out,
and advance towards the door to leave. What did he do then? He put on
the cap, drew on the boots, and said, Cap, make me invisible; boots, take me
wherever the princess goes."
The princess entered a carriage, and the soldier followed her into the
carriage and accompanied her. He saw the carriage stop at the seashore.
The princess then embarked on board a vessel decked with flags. The
soldier on seeing this, said, Cap, cover me, that I may be invisible," and
embarked with the princess. She reached the lands of giants; and when on


passing the first sentinel, he challenged her with, Who 's there? The
Princess of Harmony," she replied. The sentinel rejoined, Pass with your
The princess looked behind her, and not seeing any one following her, she
said to herself, The sentinel cannot be in his sound mind; he said 'Pass with
your suite; I do not see any one."
She reached the second sentinel, who cried out at the top of his voice,
Who's there?" The Princess of Harmony," replied the princess. Pass
with your suite," said the sentinel. The princess was each time more and
more astonished.
She came to the third sentinel, who challenged her as the others had done,
" Who's there? The Princess of Harmony." "Pass on with your suite,"
rejoined the sentinel. The princess, as before, wondered what the man could
After journeying for a long time the soldier, who followed her closely, saw
the princess arrive at a beautiful palace, enter in, and go into a hall for dancing,
where he saw many giants.
The princess sat upon a seat by the side of her lover who was a giant.
The soldier hid himself under their seat. The band struck up, and she rose
to dance with the giant, and when she finished the dance she had her iron
slippers all in pieces. She took! them off and pushed them under her seat.
The soldier immediately took possession of them and put them inside his
sack. The princess again sat down to converse with her lover. The band
again struck up some dance music, and the princess rose to dance. \\ !..n she
finished this dance another pair of her slippers had worn out. She took them
off and left them under her seat. The soldier put these also into his sack.
Finally, she danced seven times, and each time she danced she tore a pair
of slippers made of iron. The soldier kept them all in his sack.
After the ball the princess sat down to converse with her lover; and what
did the soldier do? He turned their chairs over and threw them both on the
middle of the floor. They were very much surprised, and they searched every-
where and through all the houses and could find no one. The giants then
looked out for a book of facts they had, wherein could be seen the course of
the winds and other agencies peculiar to their race. They called in a black
servant to read in the book and find out what was the matter.
The soldier rose up from where he was and said, Cap, make me invisible."
He then gave the negro a slap on the face; the negro fell to the ground, while
he took possession of the book and kept it. The time was approaching when
the princess must depart and return home; and not being able to stay lon-
ger, she went away.


The soldier followed her, and she returned by the same way she came.
She went on board; and when she reached the city, the carriage was already
waiting for her. The soldier then said, Boots, take me to the palace; and
he arrived there, took off his clothes, and went to bed.
When the princess arrived she found everything in her chamber just as she
left it, and even found the soldier fast asleep. In the morning the king said,
"Well, soldier, did you see anything remarkable last night? "
Be it known to your Majesty that I saw nothing whatever last night,"
replied the soldier.
The king then said, "According to what you say, I do not know if you are
aware that you must die to-day."
The soldier replied, "If it is so I must have patience, what else can I
do? "
When the princess heard this she rejoiced much. The king then ordered
that everything for the execution should be prepared before the palace
When the soldier was proceeding to execution he asked the king to grant
him a favor for the last time, and to send for the princess so that she should
be present.
The king gave the desired permission, and the princess was present when
he said to her, Is it not true to say that the princess went out at mid-
"It is not true," replied the princess.
"Is it true to say," again asked the soldier, "that the princess entered a
carriage, and afterwards went on board a vessel and proceeded to a ball given
in the kingdom of the giants?"
"It is not true."
The soldier yet asked her another question, "Is it true that the princess
wore out seven pairs of iron slippers during the seven times she danced? Then
he shewed her the slippers.
"There is no truth in all this," replied the princess.
The soldier at last said to her, Is it true to say that the princess at the end
of the ball fell on the floor from her seat, and the giants had a book brought to
them to see what bewitchery and magic pervaded and had taken possession of
the house, and which book is here?"
The princess now said, It is so."
The king was delighted at the discovery and happy ending of this affair, and
the soldier came to live in the palace and married the princess.


The voyage to the volcanic Cape Verd Islands was a delightful
one, over the smooth waters of tropical seas. The stars of the South-
ern Cross gleamed over the waters; the nights were clear, cool, and
refreshing; the days, long splendors.
There were on board English, Spanish, and Portuguese, some
forty in number. Time at last hung heavily, and Percy was sought
for diversions. He found himself able to speak Spanish well, and he
introduced to the passengers the simple educational amusements of
his old Washington life. Among these were Daft Day," in which
each one was expected to act the most simple character, like Simple
Simon. People were easily imposed upon and cheated. The origin
of this play is very odd, and Mr. Van der Palm, one evening on board,
gave the following history of it:-


Perhaps no poet has ever presented such a pleasing picture of the
old Yule Days, in the halls of the barons, as Sir Walter Scott. Who
does not love to recall it during mid-winter holidays, even now?
On Christmas eve the bells were rung,
On Christmas eve the. mass was sung,
Then opened wide the Baron's hall,
To vassal, tenant, serf and all."

When the white towers of Abbotsford rose over the Tweed, and
became Sir Walter Scott's home, its master delighted to reproduce the
old Christmas games and customs of the time of the barons. The
songs of the old minstrels of the camp and court were sung; the bag-
pipes were played, and the old legends of England and Scotland were
The stories have entered into Scott's prose works, and the songs
of the old harpers and minstrels, which he loved to revive on such
occasions, have been made familiar to the world through his poems,


especially through the Lay of the Last Minstrel" and the Lady of
the Lake." The Christmas days at Abbotsford were a picture of the
past. Scott wrote the Bonnets of Bonny Dundee" on Christmas
Christmas days, we say, for the old-time Christmas was not a single
day, but a season. It often lasted from Christmas Eve until Twelfth
Night, the sixth of January, and at Abbotsford, from Christmas Eve
until Hogmanay.
Hogmanay? What is that? It is a lost holiday of old provin-
cial France and England and Scotland. It meant "on to the mistle-
toe !" a cry of the minstrels and the children in the old provinces of
France on that merry day. It really means "the last day of the year,"
or the end of the Christmas season.
Daft Day" it was called in Scotland, because on that day the
people were at liberty to act as foolishly as they pleased. It became,
in Sir Walter Scott's time, a children's day, and Hogmanay was the
crowning event of the Abbotsford's Christmas holidays.
Scott was, at this time, at the prime of life, and was writing "The
Tales of the Crusaders." He was concealing the authorship of his
works, and was spoken of as "The Great Unknown." Every one
believed him to be the real author of the Waverley Novels, but none of
his guests could ever discover how or when he did his literary work.
Captain Hall thus speaks of an evening at Abbotsford during the
holidays: In the evening we had a great feast indeed. Sir Walter
asked us if we had ever read 'Christabel,' and upon some of us admit-
ting with shame that we never had seen it, he offered to read'it, and
took a chair in the midst of all the party in the library. He also
read to us the famous poem on 'Thomas the Rhymer's Adventure
with the Queen of the Fairies.' There was also much pleasing sing-
ing; many old ballads, and many ballads pretending to be old, were
sung to the harp and piano-forte."
We note this programme, for it is suggestive. The reading and


singing of old historic ballads is a worthy entertainment for the even-
ings of the Christmas holidays.
The mood of Scott, at this time, is thus pictured by Hall, in the
description of a breakfast after the holidays: "At breakfast, to-day, we
had, as usual, many stories.
I quite forget all these stories but one. 'My cousin, Walter
Scott,' said he, 'was a midshipman some forty years ago, in a ship at
Portsmouth. He and two companions had gone ashore, and had over-
stayed their leave, and spent their money, and run up an immense bill
at the tavern on the Point.
"'The ship made a signal for sailing, but the landlady said,-
"" No, gentlemen, you shall not go without paying your reckoning."
But they had nothing wherewith to pay.
"" I '11 give you one chance," said she. I am so circumstanced
here that I cannot carry on my business as a single woman, and I
must contrive, somehow, to have a husband. You may go, if one of
you will marry me. I do not care which it is, but one of you shall
have me, or you shall all go to jail, and the ship sail without you."
"' They agreed to comply. The marriage ceremony was performed,
and the three sailed away, including the husband. Some months after,
at Jamaica, a file of papers reached the husband, and looking them
over carelessly, he suddenly jumped up, and exclaimed in ecstasy,
"Thank heaven, my wife has been hanged!"'"
We give this story with slight abridgment.
"Yesterday being Hogmanay," says Hall, in his Journal, January i,
1825, there was a constant succession of Guisards, that is, boys
dressed up in fantastic caps, with their shirts over their jackets, and with
wooden swords in their hands." About one hundred boys, in fools'
costumes, used to visit Sir Walter on this Daft Day. They sometimes
acted a masque or pantomime.
Sir Walter used to give each boy and girl who visited him on Hog-
manay a "penny apiece" and an oaken cake.


The memories of the Christmases at Abbotsford were a delight to
the people of Melrose for many years. There are some yet living who
remember them, with their celebration of the old lost holiday of Hog-
m"A Christmas gambol oft would cheer
A poor man's heart for half the year."

The picture of the gracious face of Sir Walter Scott at the doors
of Abbotsford, with his dogs, the hills showing above the clustered
towers of the great mansion, and the Tweed rolling below; the pipers
with their bagpipes; the gathering children on the grounds, with their
harlequin caps, and shirts over their jackets, and wooden swords; the
funny play, the distribution of the pennies and oaken cakes is one
worthy of a poet or artist, and one in which any reader will love to
remember the Wizard of the North.
The spirit of it, too, has a Christmas lesson for all, the happiness
that makes happiness, and the equality of love that the herald angels
sang, Centuries ago."

Among the diversions that Percy used to entertain his English
friends were:-

The book party consists of a reading family, or several families,
who hold a meeting once a week, or at stated periods, to rehearse to
each other the contents of books that each member has lately read.
Each member of the circle presents a title of a book, new or old,
gives an analysis of its contents, perhaps reads a few selections from it
as an illustration, and criticises it and gives his view of its literary
value and moral worth.
A general discussion may follow the presentation of this subject-
It will be better that the books shall not be presented in a topical
way,- as, for instance, scientific books on one evening, fiction on


another, or travel, art, or poetry, at stated times. It is more interesting
if the analysis is made miscellaneous; there should be variety and
Parties of this kind stimulate good reading and educate the mind
to an acquaintance with the best thought. The social feature is healthy,
and the discussions are sure to be animating and entertaining.
A very pleasant amusement of this order is the play which we may
call "Animated Book Titles." A party is given in which each guest is
to appear as the representative of a title of a book, or as a character of
a popular and well-known book. A young man who comes with a
hoe may represent Ivanhoe" (I 've an hoe). The "dude" who appears
in contortions may be Oliver Twist (all-of-a-twist). We have seen
" Lucille" puzzle a company by being acted as a scene in a shoe-
maker's shop, Loose heel.
Such titles as The Ring and the Book," We are Seven," Never
too Late to Mend (a seamstress), are sufficiently suggestive.
The word Eurydice will admit of carefully prepared classical tableau;
The word may be used as a sentence, as You-ride-I-see," in a mock
dialogue between two persons of fortunate and unfortunate social
standing. The conductor of the entertainment may say, My whole
is one word, and represents a character of classical fiction. The whole
word will first be acted as a sentence, in the form of a dialogue between
a poor debtor, who has to go on foot, and an equestrian, who has just
alighted from a fine horse. The second scene will represent the
character in tableau."
The second scene will be Orpheus and his lyre (the music may
be played on a piano) at the door of a darkened room, and an appear-
ance of the shade of Eurydice. She follows Orpheus as he beckons
over his shoulder until she comes to a place near the door, when he,
contrary to the commands of the gods, looks around, and she vanishes
after the manner of the old mythological story, which should be care-
fully studied by the leader of such an entertainment. The tableau can
be made very beautiful.