Chapter 17 - Page 2

platforms, interrogating the horizon, which obstinately refuses to
reply, listening on all sides.

Hello! there are the actor and his wife apparently in animated
conversation. I approach. They sing in an undertone. I listen.

"I'm fond of my turkeys--eys--eys," says Madame Caterna.

"I'm fond of my wethers--ers--ers," says Monsieur Caterna, in any
number of baritones.

It is the everlasting duet between Pipo and Bettina; and they are
rehearsing for Shanghai. Happy Shanghai! They do not yet know the
_Mascotte_!

Ephrinell and Miss Bluett are talking away with unusual animation, and
I catch the end of the dialogue.

"I am afraid," said she, "that hair will be rising in Pekin--"

"And I," said he, "that teeth will be down. Ah! If a good war would
only break out in which the Russians would give the Chinaman a smack on
the jaw."

There now! Smack them on the jaw, in order that Strong, Bulbul & Co.,
of New York, might have a chance of doing a trade!

Really I do not know what to do, and we have a week's journey before
us. To Jericho with the Grand Transasiatic and its monotonous security!
The Great Trunk from New York to San Francisco has more life in it! At
least, the redskins do sometimes attack the trains, and the chance of a
scalping on the road cannot but add to the charm of the voyage!

But what is that I hear being recited, or rather intoned at the end of
our compartment?

"There is no man, whoever he may be, who cannot prevent himself from
eating too much, and avoid the evils due to repletion. On those who are
intrusted with the direction of public affairs this is more incumbent
than on others--"

It is Dr. Tio-King reading Cornaro aloud, in order that he may remember
his principles better. Eh! after all, this principle is not to be
despised. Shall I send it by telegram to our cabinet ministers? They
might, perhaps, dine with more discretion after it.

During this afternoon I find by the guide-book that we shall cross the
Yamanyar over a wooden bridge. This stream descends from the mountains
to the west, which are at least twenty-five thousand feet high, and its
rapidity is increased by the melting of the snows. Sometimes the train
runs through thick jungles, amid which Popof assures me tigers are
numerous. Numerous they may be, but I have not seen one. And yet in
default of redskins we might get some excitement out of tiger-skins.
What a heading for a newspaper, and what a stroke of luck for a
journalist! TERRIBLE CATASTROPHE. A GRAND TRANSASIATIC EXPRESS ATTACKED
BY TIGERS. FIFTY VICTIMS. AN INFANT DEVOURED BEFORE ITS MOTHER'S
EYES--the whole thickly leaded and