she recounted the story to me, if
he were not her cousin, how could she have known him when they met in
Paris and why should he have been willing to act on her intercessions?
He was her cousin--I reaffirm it!

He had come. He was now here. I repeat the former declaratory
exclamation--I was saved!

Mister President, the story is done. You now know all--or nearly all.
With a line I dispose of the release from custody of the writer and of
Zeno the Great, following suitable explanations carried on with the aid
of Miss Canbee's cousin. With another line--to wit, this one--I pass
over my affecting reunion that night at Calais with my eight young-lady
charges; as also the details of our return to England's friendly shores,
of our meeting with Miss Primleigh, of our immediate departure by
steamer for our own dear land, and finally of our reception at
Fernbridge, in which I was unable to participate in person by reason of
the shattered state of my nerves.

And now, sir, having placed before you the facts, with all the
determination of which I am capable I reiterate my earlier expressed
demand for condign official retribution on the heads of the persons
culpably blamable for my harrowing misadventures, whoever and wherever
those persons may be. If you feel moved, also, to take up the matter
with Mr. Bryan personally, you have my permission to do so.

Before concluding, I might add that a day or two since, as I casually
perused the editorial columns of a daily journal published at
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, I chanced on a delineation of Mr. Bryan,
depicting him in sweeping white robes, with a broad smile on his face,
and holding in one outstretched hand a brimming cup, flagon or beaker,
labelled as containing a purely nonalcoholic beverage; while on his
shoulder nestled a dove, signifying Peace. I have taken the liberty of
forwarding a copy of this communication to the artist responsible for
that pictured tribute, in order that he, too, may know our former
Secretary of State in his true light, and in the hope that he--the
artist--shall in future cease to employ his talents in extolling one who
so signally failed to give heed to one's appeals in the most critical
period of one's existence.

I remain, sir,
Your most obedient servant,
ROSCOE T. FIBBLE, D.D.

P. S.: Since penning the above, my attention has been directed to the
fa