Dorothy and Miss Meechim and Robert Strong went over to an island on the bay to see the caves of Elephanta, the great underground temple, one hall of which is one hundred and fifty feet long, the lofty ceilin’ supported by immense columns, and three smaller halls, the walls of all on ’em richly sculptured.

Whose hands made them statutes? I don’t know nor Josiah don’t and I guess nobody duz. There wuz a thoughtful look on Dorothy’s sweet face when she came home, and Robert Strong too seemed walkin’ in a reverie, but Miss Meechim wuz as pert as ever; it takes more than a cave to dant her.

One place in Bombay I liked first rate, a hospital for dumb animals, it is kep’ by a sect called the Jains. Sick animals of all kinds are cared for: horses, cows, dogs, cats, rats and I spoze any ailin’ creeter from a mouse up to a elephant is nursed with tender care.

Sez Josiah, “No matter what her creed is, Samantha, that Jane is a good creeter and is doin’ a great work, I would send the old mair here in a minute if she wuz took with consumption or janders or anythin’, if it wuzn’t so fur, and I’d tell Jane jest how much I thought on her for her goodness.”

Sez I, “Josiah, it is a sect, not a female.”

But he wouldn’t gin in and talks about Jane a sight now when he recalls about the horrers of vivisection or when he sees animals abused and horses driv too hard and overloaded––he always sez:

“I would like to have Jane see that, I guess Jane would put a stop to that pretty lively.”

Well, it shows Josiah’s good heart.

The Hindus have several temples in Bombay. One of the great days is the Festival of the Serpents. Snake charmers bring to this place the deadly snakes which are then fed to propitiate them, by the priests, I spoze.

Oh, how Miss Meechim went on about the idee of worshippin’ snakes, and it wuz perfectly dretful to me too, I must confess. But Arvilly always puttin’ her oar in and always hash on our govermunt, sez:

“Why, what is this different from what we do in America?”

Miss Meechim’s eyes snapped, she wuz madder than a wet hen, but Arvilly went on, “Every ’lection time hain’t the great serpent of the liquor power fed and pampered by the law-makers of our country?”

Miss Meechim didn’t reply; I guess she dassent, and I didn’t say anything, and Arvilly went on:

“Our serpent worship is as bad agin as these Hindus’, for after their snakes are fed and worshipped they shet ’em up agin so they can’t do any harm. But after lawmakers propitiate the serpent with money and influence, they let it loose to wreathe round the bright young lives and noble manhood and crunch and destroy ’em in its deadly folds, leavin’ the slime of agony and death in its tracks all over our country from North to South, East to West. It don’t look well after all this for an American to act horrified at feedin’ a snake a little milk and shettin’ it up in a box.” She wuz fairly shakin’ with indignation, and Miss Meechim dast as well die as dispute her agin. And I didn’t say a word to harrer her up any more, for I knew well what she had went through.

We only stayed a few days in Bombay, and then took the steamer and went straight acrost the Arabian Sea, stopping at Aden for a little while, and then up the Red Sea; on one side on us, Arabia, and on the other, Africa.

Aden, where we stopped for a short time, is a dreary 251 lookin’ little place with seventy or eighty thousand natives livin’ a little back from the shore, while the few English people there live near the coast. Beautiful ostrich feathers are obtained there from the many ostrich farmers living near, as well as the Mocha coffee, which made over a Jonesville stove by a Jonesville woman has so often cheered the heart and put to flight the worrisome passions of a Josiah. But in most of these tropical countries, where you’d think you could git the best, I didn’t find coffee half so good as I made it myself, though mebby I ortn’t to say it.

We saw some wonderful jugglers here. They will draw out great bunches of natural flowers from most anywhere that you wouldn’t expect ’em to be, and call birds down or out of some place onseen by us; mebby they come from the mysterious gardens of a Carabi’s home, and those great bunches of roses, I d’no from what invisible rose bushes they wuz picked; mebby they growed up tall and stately on either side of the Ether avenues that surround us on every side. Mebby Carabi lives right under the shade of some on ’em, but ’tennyrate some of these flowers they made out of nothin’ I took right into my hands, great, soft, dewy roses, with seemin’ly the same dew and perfume on ’em they have when picked in our earthly gardens. And we saw some wonderful divers there; they did such strange things that it wuz fairly skairful to see ’em. If you would throw a small coin down into the water, they would dive way down, down with both hands full of balls and bring up the coin in their teeth, showing that they picked it up offen the bottom without touching their hands to it. Good land! I couldn’t do it to save my life in our cistern or wash bowl, let alone the deep, deep sea.

As we entered the Red Sea we passed through the narrer channel called The Straits of Bab-el-Mandeb, Gate of Tears, named so on account of the many axidents that have happened there. But we got through safely and sailed on towards Suez.

So we went on past the coasts of Abyssinia, Nubia. Fur off we see Mount Sineii, sacred mount, where the Law wuz given to Moses.

Oh, my soul, think on’t! To see the very spot where Moses stood and talked to the Almighty face to face. It is only three hundred milds from Suez.

We sailed directly over the place where the Israelites passed over dry shod whilst their enemies, the Egyptians, wuz overwhelmed by the waters. The persecuted triumphant and walkin’ a-foot into safety, while Tyranny and Oppression wuz drownded.

I wish them waters wuz swashin’ up to-day and closin’ in on the Oppressor, not to drownd ’em, mebby, but to give ’em a pretty good duckin’. But I spoze the walls of water like as not is risin’ on each side on ’em onbeknown to them, and when the time comes, when the bugle sounds, they will rush in and overwhelm the armies of Greed and Tyranny and the oppressed. Them that are forced to make brick without straw, or without sand hardly, will be free, and go on rejoicin’ into the land of Promise.

But to resoom: It is three thousand milds from Bombay to Suez, but it wuz all safely passed and we found ourselves in Cairo in a most comfortable hotel, and felt after all our wanderings in fur off lands that we agin breathed the air of civilization almost equal to Jonesville.

We found some letters here from home. I had a letter from Tirzah Ann and one from Thomas Jefferson. His letter wuz full of gratitude to heaven and his ma for his dear little boy’s restored strength and health. He and Maggie wuz lookin’ and waitin’ with eager hearts and open arms to greet us, and the time wuz long to ’em I could see, though he didn’t say so.

Tirzah Ann’s letter contained strange news of our neighbor, Miss Deacon Sypher. Her devotion to her husband has been told by me more formally, it is worthy the pen of poet and historian. She lived and breathed in the Deacon, 253 marked all her clothes, M. D. S., Miss Deacon Sypher. Her hull atmosphere wuz Deacon, her goal wuz his happiness, her heaven his presence.

Well, a year ago she got hurt on the sidewalk to Jonesville, and the Deacon sued the village and got five hundred dollars for her broken leg. He took the money and went out to the Ohio on a pleasure trip, and to visit some old neighbors. It made talk, for folks said that when she worshipped him so he ort to stayed by her, but he hired she that wuz Betsy Bobbett to stay with her, and he went off on this pleasure trip and had a splendid good time, and with the rest of the money he bought a span of mules. Miss Sypher wuz deadly afraid of ’em. But the Deacon wanted ’em, and so they made her happily agonized, she wuz so afraid of their heels and their brays, and so highly tickled with the Deacon’s joy. Well, it turned out queer as a dog, but just after we started on our trip abroad Tirzah said that the Deacon fell and broke his leg in the same place and the same spot on the sidewalk; the Jonesvillians are slack, it wuzn’t mended proper. And Miss Sypher thought that she would git some money jest as he did. She didn’t think on’t for quite a spell, Tirzah writ. She wuz so bound up in the Deacon and never left his side night or day, nor took off her clothes only to wash ’em for two weeks, jest bent over his couch and drowged round waitin’ on him, for he wuz dretful notional and hard to git along with. But she loved to be jawed at, dearly, for she said it made her think he would git along, and when he would find fault with her and throw things, she smiled gladly, thinkin’ it wuz a good sign.

Well, when he got a little better so she could lay down herself and rest a little, the thought come to her that she would git some money for his broken leg jest as he had for hern. She thought that she would like to buy him a suit of very nice clothes and a gold chain, and build a mule barn for the mules, but the law wouldn’t give Miss Deacon Sypher a cent; the law said that if anything wuz gin it would go to 254 the Deacon’s next of kin, a brother who lived way off in the Michigan.

The Deacon owned her bones, but she didn’t own the Deacon’s!

And I wonnered at it as much as Tommy ever wonnered over anything why her broken limb, and all the emoluments from it, belonged to him, and his broken leg and the proprietary rights in it belonged to a man way out in the Michigan that he hadn’t seen for ten years and didn’t speke to (owin’ to trouble about property), and after Miss Deacon Sypher had worshipped him and waited on him for thirty years like a happy surf.

Well, so it wuz. I said it seemed queer, but Arvilly said that it wuzn’t queer at all. She sez: “One of my letters from home to-day had a worse case in it than that.” Sez she, “You remember Willie Henzy, Deacon Henzy’s grandchild, in Brooklyn. You know how he got run over and killed by a trolley car.”

“Yes,” sez I, “sweet little creeter; Sister Henzy told me about it with the tears runnin’ down her cheeks. They all worshipped that child, he wuz jest as pretty and bright as he could be, and he wuz the only boy amongst all the grandchildren; it is a blow Deacon Henzy will never git over. And his ma went into one faintin’ fit after another when he wuz brought home, and will never be a well woman agin, and his pa’s hair in three months grew gray as a rat; it ’most killed all on ’em.”

“Well,” sez Arvilly, “what verdict do you think that fool brought in?”

“What fool?” sez I.

“The law!” sez Arvilly sternly. “The judge brought in a verdict of one dollar damages; it said that children wuzn’t wage-earners and therefore they wuzn’t worth any more.”

I throwed my arms ’round Tommy onbeknown to me, and sez I, “Millions and millions of money wouldn’t pay your 255 grandma for you.” And Tommy wonnered and wonnered that a little boy’s life wuzn’t worth more than a dollar.

“Why,” sez I, “the law gives twenty dollars for a two-year-old heifer.”

“Yes,” sez Arvilly, “the law don’t reckon Willie Henzy’s life worth so much as a yearlin’ calf or a dog. But they can do jest as they please; these great monopolies have spun their golden web round politicians and office-seekers and office-holders and rule the whole country. They can set their own valuation on life and limb, and every dollar they can save in bruised flesh and death and agony, is one more dollar to divide amongst the stockholders.”

“Well,” sez I, “we mustn’t forgit to be megum, Arvilly; we mustn’t forgit in our indignation all the good they do carryin’ folks from hether to yon for almost nothin’.”

“Well, they no need to act more heartless than Nero or King Herod. I don’t believe that old Nero himself would done this; I believe he would gin two dollars for Willie Henzy.”

And I sez, “I never neighbored with Mr. Nero. But if I could git holt of that judge,” sez I, “he would remember it to his dyin’ day.”

“He wouldn’t care for what you said,” sez Arvilly; “he got his pay. There hain’t any of these big monopolies got any more soul than a stun-boat.”

It is only nine hours from Suez to Cairo. How often have I spoke of the great desert of Sarah in hours of Jonesville mirth and sadness, little thinkin’ that I should ever cross it in this mortal spear, but we did pass through a corner on’t and had a good view of the Suez Canal, about which so much has been said and done. For milds we went through the Valley of the Nile, that great wet nurse of Egypt. The banks on either side on’t stand dressed in livin’ green. There wuz a good many American and English people at the tarven in Cairo, but no one we knew. In the garden at the side of the tarven wuz a ostrich pen where a number of great ostriches 256 wuz kep’, and also several pelicans walked round in another part of the garden.

Tommy and I stood by the winder, very much interested in watchin’ the ostriches, and though I hain’t covetous or proud, yet I did wish I had one or two of them satiny, curly feathers to trim my best bunnet in Jonesville, they went so fur ahead of any sisters in the meetin’ house.

Josiah hadn’t see ’em yet; he wuz layin’ on the lounge, but he sez: “I don’t see why you’re so took up with them geese.”

“Geese!” sez I; “look here, Josiah Allen”––and I took a cookie I had got for Tommy––“see here; see me feed these geese ten feet from the ground.” He could see their heads come up to take it out of my hand.

“Good land!” sez he, “you don’t say they stretch their necks clear up here.” And he jined in our astonishment then and proposed that he should be let down from the winder in a sheet and git me a few feathers. But I rejected the idee to once. I sez: “I’d ruther go featherless for life than to have a pardner commit rapine for ’em.”

And he sez: “If some Egyptian come to Jonesville and wanted a rooster’s tail feather, we wouldn’t say nuthin’ aginst it.”

But I sez: “This is different; this would spile the looks of the ostriches.”

And he said there wuz sunthin’ said in the Bible about “spilin’ the Egyptians.” But I wouldn’t let him wrest the Scripters to his own destruction, and told him I wouldn’t, and then sez I, “I never could enjoy religion settin’ under a stolen feather.”

As you pass through these picturesque streets memories of them that have made this city historic crowd upon your mind. You think of Saladin, Christian, Mameluke and Islamite.

You think of the Bible and you think of the “Arabian Nights,” and you almost expect to see the enchanted carpet 257 layin’ round somewhere, and some one goin’ up to the close shet doors sayin’, “Open sesame.”

And as you stroll along you will hear every language under the sun, or so it seems, and meet English, Italian, French, Bedowins, soldiers, footmen, Turks, Arabs, all dressed in their native costumes. Anon close shet up carriages in which you most know there are beautiful wimmen peerin’ out of some little corner onbeknown to their folks; agin you meet a weddin’ procession, then a trolley car, then some Egyptian troops, then some merchants, then mysterious lookin’ Oriental wimmen, with black veils hangin’ loose, then a woman with a donkey loaded with fowls, then some more soldiers in handsome uniform.

Agin every eye is turned to see some high official or native prince dressed in splendid array dashin’ along in a carriage with footmen runnin’ on before to clear the way. And mebby right after comes a man drivin’ a flock of turkeys, they feelin’ jest as important and high-headed to all appearance.

The air is delightful here, dry and warm. No malaria in Egypt, though nigh by are sulphur baths for anybody that wants them, and also a cure for consumptive folks.

In goin’ through the streets of Cairo you will see bazars everywhere; slipper bazars, carpet and rug, vase and candle, and jewelry bazars; little shops where everything can be bought are all on sides of you.

But if you go to buy anything you get so confused as to the different worth of a piaster that your head turns. In some transactions it is as much agin as in others. Josiah got dretful worked up tryin’ to buy a silk handkerchief. Sez he to the dealer:

“What do you mean by it, you dishonest tike, you? If you should come to Jonesville to buy a overcoat or a pair of boots, and we should wiggle round and act as you do, I wouldn’t blame you if you never come there to trade a cent with us agin.”

The man kep’ bowin’ real polite and offered some coffee to him and a pipe, and Josiah sez:

“I don’t want none of your coffee, nor none of your pipes, I want honesty, and I can tell you one thing that you’ve lost my trade, and you’ll lose the hull of the Jonesville trade when I go home and tell the brethren how slippery you be in a bargain.”

The man kep’ on bowin’ and smilin’ and I told Josiah, “I presoom he thinks you’re praisin’ him; he acts as if he did.” And Josiah stopped talkin’ in a minute. But howsumever he wouldn’t take the handkerchief.

Miss Meechim and I––and I spoze that Robert Strong wuz to the bottom of it––but ’tennyrate, we wuz invited to a harem to see a princess, wife of a pasha. Robert thought that we should like to see the inside of an Indian prince’s palace, and so we did.

Miss Meechim of course woudn’t consent to let Dorothy go anywhere nigh such a place, and I guess she disinfected her clothes before she see Dorothy when she got back; ’tennyrate, I see her winder up and her dress hangin’ over a chair. Arvilly didn’t want to go, and as she wuzn’t invited, it made it real convenient for her to not want to. And of course I couldn’t take my pardner. Why, that good, moral man would be flowed from by them wimmen as if he had the plague. Dorothy and Robert wuz a-goin’ to Heliopolis and offered to take Tommy with ’em. And Miss Meechim and I accordin’ly sot off alone.

The palace stood in beautiful grounds and is a noble-lookin’ building. We wuz met at the entrance to the garden by four handsome native girls with beautiful silk dresses on, handsome turbans, satin slippers and jewelry enough for a dozen wimmen.

They took our hands, each on us walkin’ between two on ’em, for all the world as if we wuz prisoners, till we got to the gates of the palace, and here two black males, dressed 259 as rich as a president or minister, met us, and four more gayly dressed female slaves.

These girls took Miss Meechim’s cape and my mantilly and laid ’em away. Then we went through a long hall and up a magnificent marble staircase, with a girl on each side on us agin jest as if we wuz bein’ took to jail. We then went into a large beautiful room where the Princess’ Lady of Honor wuz tryin’, I spoze, to be jest as honorable as she could be. But to my surprise she handed us the first thing some coffee and pipes to smoke. But such a pipe never entered Jonesville. Why, the pipe stem was six feet long, amber and gold, diamonds and rubies. Good land! it wuz most enough to get a perfessor and a member of the W.C.T.U. to smokin’. But I wuzn’t to be enticed; I sort o’ waved it off graceful and drinked a little coffee, which wuz good, and if you’ll believe it the little holders that held our cups wuz all covered with diamonds. Then six more slaves, jest as pretty, with jest as fine clothes and with as many jewels, came to tell us the Princess would see us. And we went with them through room after room, each one seemin’ly more elegant than the others, till we reached the door of a great grand apartment, and here the Princess wuz surrounded by more slaves, dressed handsomer than any we’d seen yet.

She come forward to meet us and led the way to a beautiful divan, where we sot down. Here they offered us some more of the beautiful jewelled pipes agin, and agin I stood firm and so did Miss Meechim, but the Princess smoked a little. But the tobacco wuz perfumed so delightfully that there wuz no tobacco smell to it.

Then coffee wuz passed agin in a jewelled cup and agin I sipped a little on’t, thinkin’ like as not it would keep me awake it wuz so strong, but knowin’ that I had got to be polite anyway in such a time as this.

She talked quite good English and we had a pleasant visit with her, and anon she took each on us by the hand––for 260 all the world they acted as if we wuz infants and couldn’t walk alone––and led us through the magnificent rooms with lofty mirrors, furniture covered with costly Persian cloth embroidered with gold and silver, great rugs of the most exquisite color and texture, mounds of flowers, baskets and vases everywhere running over with them, makin’ the air sweet with their perfume.

In one room there wuz no winders, the walls bein’ made of glitterin’ mirrors sot in gilded frames, light comin’ down through stained glass in the gilded ceiling.

On the Princess’ toilet table wuz a large gold tray holdin’ a basin of perfumed water, and white silk towels embroidered in gold and silver.

I remembered my crash and huck-a-buck towels and thought to myself I didn’t know what she would do if she ever come to see me, unless I took one of Josiah’s silk handkerchiefs for her to wipe her hands on. But concluded I would do that if she ever paid my visit. And I thought the minute I got home I would paint the bowl of the pipe we had used for tizik, a pale blue or pink, and dry some extra fine mullen leaves and catnip blows, they smell real sweet to me, and I knew they would be good for her bronkial tubes anyway. And I laid out to make up in a warm welcome what we lacked in luxury.

Well, the last room we went into we wuz served in tiny cups with a delicate drink. Lemonade, I guess it wuz, or orange and fruit juice of some kind. It wuz served to us in jewelled cups and we had gold embroidered napkins. Here the Princess thanked us for our visit and retired, followed by the slaves who had gone with us through the palace.

And we went down the staircase with a girl on each side on us jest as we went up, so if Miss Meechim and I had had any mind to break away and act, we couldn’t, and went to our carriage waited on jest as when we come. Miss Meechim said as we started back:

“Did you ever see the like? Was you prepared to see such magnificence, Josiah Allen’s wife?”

And I told her I wuz partly prepared, for I had read the Arabian Night’s Entertainment.

“Well,” sez she, “it goes fur beyend my wildest dreams of luxury.”

When we got back to the tarven we found that Robert Strong had been delayed by a visitor and wuz jest startin’ for Heliopolis, and Miss Meechim and I bein’ all ready we turned round and went with ’em.

Heliopolis hain’t so grand lookin’ as its name. It is a little Arab town six miles from Cairo. The low houses are made of mud and nasty inside, I believe; they don’t look much like Jonesville houses. The oldest and greatest college once stood here. Here, too, wuz the hant of that immortal bird, the Phenix, who raised himself to life every five hundred years. (Josiah don’t believe a word on’t, and I don’t know as I do.) But we do spoze that wuz the very place where Joseph married the daughter of Mr. Potiphar, doin’ dretful well, it wuz spozed by her folks, but he wuz plenty good enough for her, I think, and so Josiah duz.

And right in this neighborhood Alexander the Great marched round and camped on his way to Memphis. So you can see it wuz interestin’ in a good many ways.

But the Virgin’s Tree wuz what we wanted to see. It is a fig sycamore; its trunk is twenty feet in diameter and its branches spread out and cover a great space. But its size wuzn’t what we went to see. Under this tree Joseph and Mary rested whilst they wuz fleeing to Egypt from them that sought the young Child’s life. Our Lord himself had been under this very tree that wuz bendin’ over me. My emotions wuz such that I didn’t want any on ’em to see my face; I went apart from ’em and sot down on a little seat not fur off from the fence that protects this tree from relic hunters. And I had a large number of emotions as I sot there lookin’ up into the green branches.

I wondered how Mary felt as she sot there. She knowed she wuz carryin’ a sacred burden on her bosom. The Star that had guided the wise men to the cradle of her Baby had shone full into his face and she’d seen the Divinity there. Angels had heralded His birth; the frightened king looked upon Him as one who would take his kingdom from him, and an angel had bidden them to take the Child and flee to Egypt.

And how happy Joseph and Mary wuz as they sot down under this tree. All their journey over the weary rocky roads, over the mountains, through the streams and the valleys, and over the sandy desert they dassent rest, but wuz lookin’ behind ’em all the time as they pressed forward, expectin’ to hear the gallopin’ steeds of the king, and to hear the cruel cries of his blood-thirsty soldiers. Why, just think on’t: every other baby boy in the country put to death jest to be sure of makin’ way with the child that she held to her bosom. How would any mother have felt; how would any mother’s heart beat and soul faint within ’em as they plodded away on a donkey, knowin’ that the swiftest horses of the king wuz mebby follerin’ clost behind? But it wuz all past now; under the shade of this noble old tree Mary sot down, happiness in her tired eyes, ontold relief in the weary heart on which the Child leaned.

I believe they laid down there under the starry heavens and went to sleep; mebby the Star shone down on ’em as they slep’, seein’ they wuz safe now and Herod couldn’t touch ’em even if he wuz clost to ’em.

Egypt, blessed be thy turf and thy skies forever more, since thou hast sheltered the Lord!

And while back in Jerusalem the blood-thirsty soldiers wuz rushin’ to and fro seekin’ for the young Child that they might destroy him, and in his palace King Herod lay in troubled sleep under the close-drawn curtains of the royal couch, slaves watchin’ outside the room, slaves watchin’ his fearful thorn-strewn pillow, the little Child that he feared 263 and sought to destroy, slept with the clear midnight sky bendin’ over his sweet slumber, its matchless blue curtain looped up with stars, hung with the great silver night lamp of the crescent moon. His bed-chamber the broad plains and mountains and valleys of the world Which should yet own his peaceful sway. His guard the shining angels that had flown down to herald His coming on the fields of Bethlehem. Sleep well, little Child, with thy kingdom outstretched about thee, the hull grief-smitten world, upon which thou wast to lay thy hands and heal its woes and wounds. The divine clothin’ itself in the sad garments of humanity that it might lift it up into heavenly heights.

Well, we stayed there quite a spell. Robert, I could see, felt a good deal as I did and so did Dorothy; I read in her sweet eyes the tender light that meant many things. But Miss Meechim had doubts about the tree. She looked all round it, and felt of the low, droopin’ branches and looked clost at the bark. She is a great case for the bark of things, Miss Meechim is, you know some be. They will set their microscopes on a little mite of bark and argy for hours about it, but don’t think of the life that is goin’ on underneath. The divine vitality of truth that animates the hidden soul of things. They think more of the creeds, the outward husks of things than the inside life and truth. Miss Meechim said with her eye still on the bark that no tree could live two centuries and still look so vigorous.

But I sez, “Mount Sinai looks pretty firm and stiddy, and the Red Sea I spoze looks jest about as red and hearty as it did when the Israelites crossed it.”

She wuz examinin’ the bark through her eye glasses, but she said mountains and seas could stand more than a tree And I said I guessed the hand that made a tree could keep it alive.

And I knew that it didn’t make any difference anyway. This wuz the road they come and they had to rest anyway, and it stood to reason they would rest under a tree, and I felt 264 that this wuz the tree, though it might have been another one nigh by. And while Miss Meechim’s mind was all taken up lookin’ at the bark of that tree, my mind wuz full of this great fact and truth, that the Child wuz saved from his enemies. And while the kingdom of the wicked king has been covered and lost from sight under the sands of time for centuries, the kingdom of the Holy Child stands firmer to-day than ever before, and is broadening and widening all the time, teaching the true brotherhood of man, and fatherhood of God. This is the great truth, all the branching creeds and arguments and isms, they are only the bark.

Nigh by the tree stands a tall piller sixty-four feet high, covered with strange writin’. As I looked at it I thought I would gin a dollar bill to have read that writin’, no knowin’ what strange secrets of the past would have been revealed to me. But I couldn’t read it, it is dretful writin’. Josiah sometimes makes fun of my handwritin’ and calls it ducks’ tracks, but I thought that if he’d seen this he’d thought that mine wuz like print compared to it. They say that this is the oldest obelisk in Egypt, and that is sayin’ a good deal, for Egypt is full of former greatness old as the hills.

Here in the East civilization begun, and gradual, gradual it stalked along towards the West, and is slowly, slowly marchin’ on round the world back to where it started from, and when the round world is belted with knowledge and Christianity, then mebby will come the thousand years of peace, the millennium the Scriptures have foretold, when the lamb shall lay down with the lion and a young child shall lead them. I spoze the young child means the baby Peace that shall bime-by lead the nations along into the World Beautiful. And there shall be no more war.