er and came to me with his head down. His
informing and well-feathered tail signalled to Miss Lansdale that she
seemed to have forgotten herself.

At that moment, I think, the woman abandoned all her preposterous hopes;
then, too, I think, she learned the last and bitterest lesson which
great fighters must learn, to embellish defeat with an air of urbane
acceptance. Miss Lansdale relaxed--she melted before my eyes to an
aspect that no victor who knew his business could afford to despise.

I clambered in. Jim followed, remarking amiably to the woman as he
passed her on his way to the bow of the boat, "I _thought_ you couldn't
have meant _that_!"

And Defeat rowed Jim and me; rowed us past the feathered marge of green
islands quite as if nothing had happened. But I knew it _had_ happened,
for Miss Lansdale was so nearly human that I presently found myself
thinking "Miss Kate" of her. She not only answered questions, but, what
amazed me far more, she condescended to ask them now and then. To an
observer we might have seemed to be holding speech of an actual
friendliness--speech of the water and the day; of herself and the dog
and a little of me.

At length, as I caught an overhanging willow to rest her arms a moment,
I felt bold enough to venture words about this assumption of amity which
was so becoming in her. I even confessed that she was reminding me of
certain distinguished but truly amiable personages who are commonly to
be found in the side-show adjacent to the main tent. "Particularly of
the wild man," I said, to be more specific, for my listener seemed at
once to crave details.

"There is a powerfully painted banner swelling in the breeze outside,
you know. It shows the wild man in all his untamed ferocity, in his
native jungle, armed with a simple but rather promising club. A dozen
intrepid tars from a British man-of-war--to be seen in the offing--are
in the act of casting a net over him. It's an exciting picture, I assure
you, Miss Lansdale. The net looks flimsy, and the wild person is not
only enraged but very muscular--"

"I fail to see," she interrupted, with a slight lapse into what I may
call her first, or Lansdale, manner.

"Of course you fail! You have to go inside to see," I explained kindly.
"But it only costs a dime, which is little enough--the hired enthusiast,
indeed, stationed just outside the entrance, reminds us over and over
again that it is only 'the tenth part of a dollar,' and he somet