"Of course not. They are our own brothers, carried away by the King of Assyria. There can be not the slightest doubt that the Red Indians are the Lost Ten Tribes of Israel." "What?" cried Peloni, vastly excited. "I shall publish a book on the subject. Yes, in worship, dialect, language, sacrifices, marriages, divorces, burials, fastings, purifications, punishments, cities of refuge, divisions of tribes, High-Priests, wars, triumphs--'tis our very tradition." "Then I suppose one could lodge with them. I am anxious to settle in Ararat at once." "You can scarcely settle there till the forest is cleared," said the great man, arching his eyebrows. "The forest!" repeated Peloni, taken aback. "Ah, you are dismayed. You are a European, accustomed to ready-made cities. We Americans, we change continents while you wait, build up Aladdin's palaces over-night. As soon as I can manage to go over the ground I will plan out the city." "You haven't been there yet?" gasped Peloni. "Ah, my dear Peloni. When should I find time to travel all the way to Buffalo,--a busy editor, lawyer, playwright, what not? True, the time that other men give to domestic happiness the President of the Old Bachelors' Club is able to give to his fellow-men. But the slow canal voyage--" At this moment there was a knock at the door, and a servant inquired if Major Noah could see his tailor. "Ah, a good augury!" cried the major. "Here is the tailor come to try on my Robe of Governor and Judge of Israel." The man bore an elaborate robe of crimson silk trimmed with ermine, which he arranged about Noah's portly person, making marks with pins and chalk where it could be made to fit better. "Do you like it?" said Noah, puffing himself out regally. Peloni's uneasiness vanished. Doubt was impossible before these magnificent realities. Ah! the Americans were wonderful. "I had to go through our annals," Noah explained, "to find which period of our government we could revive. Kingship was opposed to the sentiment of these States: in the epoch of the Judges I found my ideal. Indeed, what is the President of the United States but a _Shophet_, a Judge of Israel? Ah, you are looking at that painting of me--I shall have to be done again in my new robes. That elegant creature who hangs beside me is Miss Leesugg, the Hebe of English actresses, as she appeared in my 'She would be a Soldier, or the Plains of Chippewa.' There is a caricature of my uncle, Aaron J. Phillips, as the Turkish Commander in my 'Grecian Captive.' Dear me, shall I ever forget how he tumbled off that elephant! Ha! ha! ha! That is Miss Johnson, in my 'Yusef Carmatti, or the Siege of Tripoli.' The black and white is a fancy sketch of 'Marion, or the Hero of Lake George,' a play I wrote for the reopening of the Park Theatre and to celebrate the evacuation of New York by the British in 1783."