e of the
soldiers at the _cuartel_--no: that's so; they're allowed shoes only
when on the march. In barracks they turn their little toeses out to
grass."

"'Bout right," agreed the consul. "Not over twenty out of the three
thousand ever felt leather on their walking arrangements. Oh, yes;
Coralio is just the town for an enterprising shoe store--that doesn't
want to part with its goods. Wonder if old Patterson is trying to
jolly me! He always was full of things he called jokes. Write him a
letter, Billy. I'll dictate it. We'll jolly him back a few."

Keogh dipped his pen, and wrote at Johnny's dictation. With many
pauses, filled in with smoke and sundry travellings of the bottle
and glasses, the following reply to the Dalesburg communication was
perpetrated:

MR. OBADIAH PATTERSON,
Dalesburg, Ala.

_Dear Sir:_ In reply to your favour of July 2d, I have the
honour to inform you that, according to my opinion, there
is no place on the habitable globe that presents to the eye
stronger evidence of the need of a first-class shoe store
than does the town of Coralio. There are 3,000 inhabitants
in the place, and not a single shoe store! The situation
speaks for itself. This coast is rapidly becoming the goal
of enterprising business men, but the shoe business is one
that has been sadly overlooked or neglected. In fact, there
are a considerable number of our citizens actually without
shoes at present.

Besides the want above mentioned, there is also a crying
need for a brewery, a college of higher mathematics, a coal
yard, and a clean and intellectual Punch and Judy show. I
have the honour to be, sir,

Your Obt. Servant,

JOHN DE GRAFFENREID ATWOOD,
U. S. Consul at Coralio.

P.S.--Hello! Uncle Obadiah. How's the old burg racking
along? What would the government do without you and me?
Look out for a green-headed parrot and a bunch of bananas
soon, from your old friend

JOHNNY.

"I throw in that postscript," explained the consul, "so Uncle Obadiah
won't take offence at the official tone of the letter! Now, Billy,
you get that correspondence fixed up, and send Pancho to the
post-office with it. The _Ariadne_ takes the mail out to-morrow if
they make up that load of fruit to-day."

The night programme in Coralio never varied. The recreations of the
people were soporific and flat. They wandered about, barefoot and
aimless, speaking lowly