elt myself more at home.

From Montevideo I had forwarded a letter from Sir Edward Hairby to the
owner of the "Standard," Mr. Mulhall, and in reply to it was assured
of a warm welcome to the warmest heart, I think, outside of Ireland.
Mr. Mulhall, with a prancing team, came down to the docks as soon as
the _Spray_ was berthed, and would have me go to his house at once,
where a room was waiting. And it was New Year's day, 1896. The course
of the Spray had been followed in the columns of the "Standard."

Mr. Mulhall kindly drove me to see many improvements about the city,
and we went in search of some of the old landmarks. The man who sold
"lemonade" on the plaza when first I visited this wonderful city I
found selling lemonade still at two cents a glass; he had made a
fortune by it. His stock in trade was a wash-tub and a neighboring
hydrant, a moderate supply of brown sugar, and about six lemons that
floated on the sweetened water. The water from time to time was
renewed from the friendly pump, but the lemon "went on forever," and
all at two cents a glass.

[Illustration: At the sign of the comet.]

But we looked in vain for the man who once sold whisky and coffins in
Buenos Aires; the march of civilization had crushed him--memory only
clung to his name. Enterprising man that he was, I fain would have
looked him up. I remember the tiers of whisky-barrels, ranged on end,
on one side of the store, while on the other side, and divided by a
thin partition, were the coffins in the same order, of all sizes and
in great numbers. The unique arrangement seemed in order, for as a
cask was emptied a coffin might be filled. Besides cheap whisky and
many other liquors, he sold "cider," which he manufactured from
damaged Malaga raisins. Within the scope of his enterprise was also
the sale of mineral waters, not entirely blameless of the germs of
disease. This man surely catered to all the tastes, wants, and
conditions of his customers.

Farther along in the city, however, survived the good man who wrote on
the side of his store, where thoughtful men might read and learn:
"This wicked world will be destroyed by a comet! The owner of this
store is therefore bound to sell out at any price and avoid the
catastrophe." My friend Mr. Mulhall drove me round to view the fearful
comet with streaming tail pictured large on the trembling merchant's
walls.

I unshipped the sloop's mast at Buenos Aires and shortened it by seven
feet. I red