nt, and presented
him with a document in the Russian language, which had to be interpreted
by the Russian minister. When it was interpreted they say old Abe danced
a highland fling, and hugged the Russians and danced all hands around.
That document has never been published, but it was to the effect that
the Russian fleet was at the disposal of the President of the United
States, to fight any country on the face of God's green earth that
attempted to mix in. See? It was not long before other nations
discovered that Russia had sent her fleet to stay, and every Russian on
every vessel acted as though he was spoiling for a fight, and seemed to
say to the world, 'Come on, condemn you!' And nobody ever came along to
fight. And Uncle Abe began to be in a laughing mood, and you know the
rest, if you have read up about the war. Nobody has ever suggested an
alliance with Russia, and yet we are under more obligations to that old
Czar than to anybody. In fact, we don't want an alliance with anybody.
We want the friendship of all. If I have any more love for one country
than another, I do not know which it is, only when I see a Russian, even
one of those Cossacks that rode so well, I feel like taking him by the
hand and telling him, when he goes home, to go up to the Winter palace
and give my love to the Czar, because I always have before me the
picture of that Russian fleet in New York harbor, when things were hot.
England has done a similar favor during this last war, and if we had
another war, and the newspapers would quit nagging him, you would find
the young emperor of Germany doing something for us equally as good. So,
boys, don't get stuck on one country, but give them all a chance to be
good to us."

"Gosh, Uncle Ike, I never heard anything about that Russian fleet," said
the red-headed boy. "England can go plum to thunder. I thought England
was the only country that was ever even polite to us."

"Come on, boys, let's go and play Cossack," said one of the Indians, and
they went rolling over the picket fence on their stomachs, leaving Uncle
Ike to go and put on some dry clothes.

CHAPTER XVII.

Uncle Ike had been having twinges of rheumatism in one of his legs ever
since he had the scrap with the Indians, and turned the hose on them and
got wet himself, and he sat out on the porch one morning with a blanket
over his leg trying to warm it up, smoking his pipe in silence, and
wondering why the good Lord arranged thing