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　but　I　was　not　so　ill…fated。

I　wish　you　might　know　John　A。　　Pescud。　　He　is　of　the　stuff　that　heroes　　are　not　often　lucky　enough　to　be　made　of。　　He　is　a　small　man　with　a　　wide　smile；　and　an　eye　that　seems　to　be　fixed　upon　that　little　red　　spot　on　the　end　of　your　nose。　　I　never　saw　him　wear　but　one　kind　of　　necktie；　and　he　believes　in　cuff…holders　and　button…shoes。　　He　is　as　　hard　and　true　as　anything　ever　turned　out　by　the　Cambria　Steel　Works；　　and　he　believes　that　as　soon　as　Pittsburgh　makes　smoke…consumers　　compulsory；　St。　　Peter　will　come　down　and　sit　at　the　foot　of　　Smithfield　Street；　and　let　somebody　else　attend　to　the　gate　up　in　the　　branch　heaven。　　He　believes　that　〃our〃　plate…glass　is　the　most　　important　commodity　in　the　world；　and　that　when　a　man　is　in　his　home　　town　he　ought　to　be　decent　and　law…abiding。

During　my　acquaintance　with　him　in　the　City　of　Diurnal　Night　I　had　　never　known　his　views　on　life；　romance；　literature；　and　ethics。　　We　　had　browsed；　during　our　meetings；　on　local　topics；　and　then　parted；　　after　Chateau　Margaux；　Irish　stew；　flannel…cakes；　cottage…pudding；　and　　coffee　（hey；　there！with　milk　separate）。　　Now　I　was　to　get　more　of　　his　ideas。　　By　way　of　facts；　he　told　me　that　business　had　picked　up　　since　the　party　conventions；　and　that　he　was　going　to　get　off　at　　Coketown。


II


〃Say；〃　said　Pescud；　stirring　his　discarded　book　with　the　toe　of　his　　right　shoe；　〃did　you　ever　read　one　of　these　best…sellers？　　I　mean　the　　kind　where　the　hero　is　an　American　swellsometimes　even　from　Chicago…　…who　falls　in　love　with　a　royal　princess　from　Europe　who　is　travelling　　under　an　alias；　and　follows　her　to　her　father's　kingdom　or　　principality？　　I　guess　you　have。　　They're　all　alike。　　Sometimes　this　　going…away　masher　is　a　Washington　newspaper　correspondent；　and　　sometimes　he　is　a　Van　Something　from　New　York；　or　a　Chicago　wheat…　broker　worthy　fifty　millions。　　But　he's　always　ready　to　break　into　the　　king　row　of　any　foreign　country　that　sends　over　their　queens　and　　princesses　to　try　the　new　plush　seats　on　the　Big　Four　or　the　B。　　and　　0。　　There　doesn't　seem　to　be　any　other　reason　in　the　book　for　their　　being　here。

〃Well；　this　fellow　chases　the　royal　chair…warmer　home；　as　I　said；　and　　finds　out　who　she　is。　　He　meets　here　on　the　corso　or　the　strasse　one　　evening　and　gives　us　ten　pages　of　conversation。　　She　reminds　him　of　　the　difference　in　their　stations；　and　that　gives　him　a　chance　to　ring　　in　three　solid　pages　about　America's　uncrowned　sovereigns。　　If　you'd　　take　his　remarks　and　set　'em　to　music；　and　then　take　the　music　away　　from　'em；　they'd　sound　exactly　like　one　of　George　Cohan's　songs。

〃Well；　you　know　how　it　runs　on；　if　you　ve　read　any　of　'emhe　slaps　　the　king's　Swiss　body…guards　around　like　everything　whenever　they　get　　in　his　way。　　He's　a　great　fencer；　too。　　Now；　I've　known　of　some　　Chicago　men　who　were　pretty　notorious　fences；　but　I　never　heard　of　any　　fencers　coming　from　there。　　He　stands　on　the　first　landing　of　the　　royal　staircase　in　Castle　Schutzenfestenstein　with　a　gleaming　rapier　　in　his　hand；　and　makes　a　Baltimore　broil　of　six　platoons　of　traitors　　who　come　to　massacre　the　said　king。　　And　then　he　has　to　fight　duels　　with　a　couple　of　chancellors；　and　foil　a　plot　by　four　Austrian　　archdukes　to　seize　the　kingdom　for　a　gasoline…station。

〃But　the　great　scene　is　when　his　rival　for　the　princess'　hand；　Count　　Feodor；　attacks　him　between　the　portcullis　and　the　ruined　chapel；　　armed　with　a　mitrailleuse；　a　yataghan；　and　a　couple　of　Siberian　　bloodhounds。　　This　scene　is　what　runs　the　best…seller　into　the　twenty…　ninth　edition　before　the　publisher　has　had　time　to　draw　a　check　for　　the　advance　royalties。

〃The　American　hero　shucks　his　coat　and　throws　it　over　the　heads　of　the　　bloodhounds；　gives　the　mitrailleuse　a　slap　with　his　mitt；　says　'Yah！'　　to　the　yataghan；　and　lands　in　Kid　McCoy's　best　style　on　the　count's　　left　eye。　　Of　course；　we　have　a　neat　little　prize…fight　right　then　and　　there。　　The　countin　order　to　make　the　go　possibleseems　to　be　an　　expert　at　the　art　of　self…defence；　himself；　and　here　we　have　the　　Corbett…Sullivan　fight　done　over　into　literature。　　The　book　ends　with　　the　broker　and　the　princess　doing　a　John　Cecil　Clay　cover　under　the　　linden…trees　on　the　Gorgonzola　Walk。　　That　winds　up　the　love…story　　plenty　good　enough。　　But　I　notice　that　the　book　dodges　the　final　　issue。　　Even　a　best…seller　has　sense　enough　to　shy　at　either　leaving　a　　Chicago　grain　broker　on　the　throne　of　Lobsterpotsdam　or　bringing　over　　a　real　princess　to　eat　fish　and　potato　salad　in　an　Italian　chalet　on　　Michigan　Avenue。　　What　do　you　think　about　'em？〃

〃Why；〃　said　I；　〃I　hardly　know；　John。　　There's　a　saying：　'Love　levels　　all　ranks；'　you　know。〃

〃Yes；〃　said　Pescud；　〃but　these　kind　of　love…stories　are　rankon　the　　level。　　I　know　something　about　literature；　even　if　I　am　in　plate…　glass。　　These　kind　of　books　are　wrong；　and　yet　I　never　go　into　a　train　　but　what　they　pile　'em　up　on　me。　　No　good　can　come　out　of　an　　international　clinch　between　the　Old…World　aristocracy　and　one　of　us　　fresh　Americans。　　When　people　in　real　life　marry；　they　generally　hunt　　up　somebody　in　their　own　station。　　A　fellow　usually　picks　out　a　girl　　that　went　to　the　same　high…school　and　belonged　to　the　same　singing…　society　that　he　did。　　When　young　millionaires　fall　in　love；　they　　always　select　the　chorus…girl　that　likes　the　same　kind　of　sauce　on　the　　lobster　that　he　does。　　Washington　newspaper　correspondents　always　many　　widow　ladies　ten　years　older　than　themselves　who　keep　boarding…houses。　　　No；　sir；　you　can't　make　a　novel　sound　right　to　me　when　it　makes　one　of　　C。　　D。　　Gibson's　bright　young　men　go　abroad　and　turn　kingdoms　upside　　down　just　because　he's　a　Taft　American　aud　took　a　course　at　a　　gymnasium。　　And　listen　how　they　talk；　too！〃

Pescud　picked　up　the　best…seller　and　hunted　his　page。

〃Listen　at　this；〃　said　he。　　〃Trevelyan　is　chinning　with　the　Princess　　Alwyna　at　the　back　end　of　the　tulip…garden。　　This　is　how　it　goes：


〃'Say　not　so；　dearest　and　sweetest　of　earth's　fairest　flowers。　　Would　　I　aspire？　　You　are　a　star　set　high　above　me　in　a　royal　heaven；　I　am　　onlymyself。　　Yet　I　am　a　man；　and　I　have　a　heart　to　do　and　dare。　　I　　have　no　title　save　that　of　an　uncrowned　sovereign；　but　I　have　an　arm　　and　a　sword　that　yet　might　free　Schutzenfestenstein　from　the　plots　of　　traitors。'

〃Think　of　a　Chicago　man　packing　a　sword；　and　talking　about　freeing　　anything　that　sounded　as　much　like　canned　pork　as　that！　　He'd　be　much　　more　likely　to　fight　to　have　an　import　duty　put　on　it。〃

〃I　think　I　understand　you；　John；〃　said　I。　　〃You　want　fiction…writers　　to　be　consistent　with　their　scenes　and　characters。　　They　shouldn't　mix　　Turkish　pashas　with　Vermont　farmers；　or　English　dukes　with　Long　Island　　clam…diggers；　or　Italian　countesses　with　Montana　cowboys；　or　　Cincinnati　brewery　agents　with　the　rajahs　of　India。〃

〃Or　plain　business　men　with　aristocracy　high　above　'em；〃　added　Pescud。　　　〃It　don't　jibe。　　People　are　divided　into　classes；　whether　we　admit　it　　or　not；　and　it's　everybody's　impulse　to　stick　to　their　own　class。　　　They　do　it；　too。　　I　don't　see　why　people　go　to　work　and　buy　hundreds　　of　thousands　of　books　like　that。　　You　don't　see　or　hear　of　any　such　　didoes　and　capers　in　real　life。〃


III


〃Well；　John；〃　said　I；　〃I　haven't　read　a　best…seller　in　a　long　time。　　　Maybe　I've　had　notions　about　them　somewhat　like　yours。　　But　tell　me　　more　about　yourself。　　Getting　along　all　right　with　the　company？〃

〃Bully；〃　said　Pescud；　brightening　at　once。　　〃I've　had　my　salary　raised　　twice　since　I　saw　you；　and　I　get　a　commission；　too。　　I've　bought　a　　neat　slice　of　real　estate　out　in　the　East　End；　and　have　run　up　a　house　　on　it。　　Next　year　the　firm　is　going　to　sell　me　some　shares　of　stock。　　　Oh；　I'm　in　on　the　line　of　General　Prosperity；　no　matter　who's　　elected！〃

〃Met　your　affinity　yet；　John？〃　I　asked。

〃Oh；　I　didn't　tell　you　about　that；　did　I？〃　said　Pescud　with　a　broader　　grin。

〃0…ho！〃　I　said。　　〃So　you've　taken　time　enough　off　from　your　plate…　glass　to　have　a　romance？〃

〃No；　no；〃　said　John。　　〃No　romancenothing　like　that！　　But　I'll　tell　　you　about　it。

〃I　was　on　the　south…bound；　going　to　Cincinnati；　about　eighteen　months　　ago；　when　I　saw；　across　the　aisle；　the　finest…looking　girl　I'd　ever　　laid　eyes　on。　　Nothing　spectacular；　you　know；　but　just　the　sort　you　　want　for　keeps。　　Well；　I　never　was　up　to　the　flirtation　business；　　either　handkerchief；　automobile；　postage…stamp；　or　door…step；　and　she　　wasn't　the　kind　to　start　anything。　　She　read　a　book　and　minded　her　　business；　which　was　to　make　the　world　prettier　and　better　just　by　　residing　on　it。　　I　kept　on　looking　out　of　the　side　doors　of　my　eyes；　　and　finally　the　proposition　got　out　of　the　Pullman　class　into　a　case　　of　a　cottage　with　a　lawn　and　vines　running　over　the　porch。　　I　never　　thought　of　speaking　to　her；　but　I　let　the　plate…glass　business　go　to　　smash　for　a　while。

〃She　changed　cars　at　Cincinnati；　and　took　a　sleeper　to　Louisville　over　　the　L。　　and　N。　　There　she　bought　another　ticket；　and　went　on　through　　Shelbyville；　Frankfort；　and　Lexington。　　Along　there　I　began　to　have　a　　hard　time　keeping　up　with　her。　　The　trains　came　along　when　they　　pleased；　and　didn't　seem　to　be　going　anywhere　in　particular；　except　to　　keep　on　the　track　and　the　right　of　way　as　much　as　possible。　　Then　they　　began　to　stop　at　junctions　instead　of　towns；　and　at　last　they　stopped　　altogether。　　I'll　bet　Pinkerton　would　outbid　the　plate…glass　people　　for　my　services　any　time　if　they　knew　how　I　managed　to　shadow　that　　young　lady。　　I　contrived　to　keep　out　of　her　sight　as　much　as　I　could；　　but　I　never　lost　track　of　her。

〃The　last　station　she　got　off　at　was　away　down　in　Virginia；　about　six　　in　the　afternoon。　　There　were　about　fifty　houses　and　four　hundred　　niggers　in　sight。　　The　rest　was　red　mud；　mules；　and　speckled　hounds。

〃A　tall　old　man；　with　a　smooth　face　and　white　hair；　looking　as　proud　　as　Julius　Caesar　and　Roscoe　Conkling　on　the　same　post…card；　was　there　　to　meet　her。　　His　clothcs　were　frazzled；　but　I　didn't　notice　that　till　　later。　　He　took　her　little　satchel；　and　they　started　over　the　plank…　walks　and　went　up　a　road　along　the　hill。　　I　kept　along　a　piece　behind　　'em；　trying　to　look　like　I　was　hunting　a　garnet　ring　in　the　sand　that　　m