to him, good, bad and indifferent. One very persistent poet, whose
knowledge of English was rather limited, bored him considerably. He
got so inflated over Paul's feigned praise, who had tried this ruse to
get rid of him, that he had his poem put in a German paper and
printed in English at his own expense. It was as follows:

Hall my boy! coming to us with a ton full of reason, Bringing that, what
now is most of season: The best of these we did meet since years In a
period of apprehensions and fears.

You are, no doubt of those good hearted fellows, Who like to lead the
men through friendly meadows; God bless always your noble, humane aim,
And give to it the success you do claim.

The people by his loud acclamation, May prove to you that it feels no
temptation To cut the throats, to break the necks around And make a
grave of all European ground.

It is a sort of cry that's rising, To prove that there are men enough
despising Armstrong and Krupp etcetera With Dyrose, Snyder, Mauser, yea.

Are you returned to Uncle Sam's cottage, Then make aware your countrymen
of every age: Your finding the German people sorry for human life, But
not for scorn and war and strife.

And now, farewell, my boy, with your ton of reason, May God you bless at
every season.

The trip on the Rhine concluded, Paul in company with Doctor Willis
visited several cities in Germany, Holland and Belgium, where he
gave exhibitions till the ice stopped his work. He then crossed to
England and took a steamer to New York on a flying trip home, where he
arrived December 28th, 1878. He had been gone about sixteen months.

CHAPTER XI.

After spending a few weeks with his family, Captain Boyton received an
invitation to visit a friend in St. Louis. While there the swift current
of the Mississippi, which was then flowing with ice, tempted him and he
made a voyage from Alton to St. Louis, about twenty-five miles. A boat
containing newspaper reporters was to accompany him down; but the
weather proved too cold for them and they abandoned him after a few
miles. The thermometer was below zero, and a man was frozen to death
that morning in a wagon at Alton. His reception in St. Louis was
something extraordinary. The deafening noise made by the steamers and
tug boats as they passed the bridge was heard far beyond the city
limits. Before he left St. Louis he gave a lecture for the benefit of
St. Luke's Hospital, and on that oc