an
to show signs of impatience.

"What the dickens is he gassing about?" shouted some one in the street.

As the savant paid no attention to these signs the band struck up a
military march. Finally when order was re-established M. Panteloup
himself mounted the platform.

"This fountain, ladies and gentlemen," he began in a powerful voice,
"was built in 1836 at a cost of a million and a half francs. In the
twenty-four hours its output is 6,716 cubic yards of water. It is
composed, as you can see, of a basin of polished stone, decorated by six
tritons and nereids, each holding a fish in its mouth from which the
water flows out. Thus far there is nothing unusual and it is therefore
with justifiable surprise that we discover the fact that at certain
moments these fountains actually sing. Are we in the presence of a
phenomenon similar to that recalled just now by M. Anastasius
Baringouin? Are we, at the beginning of the twentieth century--the
century of Science and Precision--victims of hallucination or sorcery?
This, ladies and gentlemen, is what we are about to investigate, and we
will begin by consulting the celebrated clairvoyant, Madame Gabrielle de
Smyrne."

A murmur of approbation greeted the pretty prophetess as she appeared,
but at the same moment a police officer followed by fifteen men pushed
his way to the foot of the platform and ordered M. Panteloup to cease
attracting a crowd. The latter, however, was equal to the occasion.
After lifting his hand for silence he shouted the famous cry:

"We are here by the will of the people, we shall not go away except by
force."

The crowd cheered, and with the voices mingled the barking of dogs.

"Ladies and gentlemen," continued M. Panteloup, "you hear the wonderful
police dogs of Neuilly, Turk and Bellone. They are coming to help us to
scent out the mystery."

This was to be the termination of the ceremony, but an unlooked for
addition to the program appeared in the person of one of those Parisian
"Natural Men" or "Primitive Men."

He was a very old, long-bearded man and wore a white robe. He went by
the name of Ouaouaoua, and his portrait had been published in all city
papers. A hush came over the crowd and then in the silence a vague
metallic murmur was heard above the splash of the water.

This time there was no mistake. The Fountains were singing.

Thousands of witnesses were present and could testify to that fact.

The crowd at once associated the arriv