very popular British novelist and playwright in
his day, but his works have now been largely
forgotten. As of July, 2004, two of his books,
_The Christian_ and _The Scapegoat_, can be found
in Project Gutenberg's library.]

"But what does this healthy, wealthy, and wise man do but reach his
arms up to the second-story windows and gape noisily.

"'Reckon I'll be going to bed,' says he; 'it's about my time. St.
Louis is a kind of quiet place, ain't it?'

"'Oh, yes,' says I; 'ever since the railroads ran in here the town's
been practically ruined. And the building-and-loan associations and
the fair have about killed it. Guess we might as well go to bed. Wait
till you see Chicago, though. Shall we get tickets for the Big Breeze
to-morrow?'

"'Mought as well,' says Solly. 'I reckon all these towns are about
alike.'

"Well, maybe the wise cicerone [31] and personal conductor didn't fall
hard in Chicago! Loolooville-on-the-Lake is supposed to have one or
two things in it calculated to keep the rural visitor awake after the
curfew rings. But not for the grass-fed man of the pampas! I tried
him with theatres, rides in automobiles, sails on the lake, champagne
suppers, and all those little inventions that hold the simple life in
check; but in vain. Solly grew sadder day by day. And I got fearful
about my salary, and knew I must play my trump card. So I mentioned New
York to him, and informed him that these Western towns were no more
than gateways to the great walled city of the whirling dervishes.

[FOOTNOTE 31: cicerone--a sight-seeing guide]

"After I bought the tickets I missed Solly. I knew his habits by then;
so in a couple of hours I found him in a saddle-shop. They had some
new ideas there in the way of trees and girths that had strayed down
from the Canadian mounted police; and Solly was so interested that he
almost looked reconciled to live. He invested about nine hundred
dollars in there.

"At the depot I telegraphed a cigar-store man I knew in New York to
meet me at the Twenty-third Street ferry with a list of all the
saddle-stores in the city. I wanted to know where to look for Solly
when he got lost.

"Now I'll tell you what happened in New York. I says to myself:
'Friend Heherezade, you want to get busy and make Bagdad look pretty
to the sad sultan of the sour countenance, or it'll be the bowstring
for yours.'