“This country is New Amazonia. A long time ago it was called Erin by some, but Ireland was the name it was best known by. It used to be the scene of perpetual strife and warfare. Our archives tell us that it was subjugated by the warlike English, and that it suffered for centuries from want and oppression. The land was appropriated by English mercenaries, who exacted enormous rents, which they spent anywhere but in Ireland. Famines, attempted revolutions and conspiracies, unjust repressive laws, and all sorts of calamities are said to have ruined and depopulated the country until the wars arose which resulted in our coming here. But as all is so strange here to you, you shall, if you care about it, be taken out this evening, and then you will be better able to judge what sort of people we are. Meanwhile, our duties must be attended to. Hilda, be good enough to take this woman to your room, until we can make other arrangements, and—oh dear, there is the little gentleman! What shall we do with him?” The Honourable Augustus was being conducted through the principal reception rooms of the college, for such the building was, and the question of his ultimate disposal could be discussed without the embarrassment which his presence might perhaps have entailed. “Suppose we request Mr. Medlock to take him until he decides what his future arrangements will be?” suggested Professor Wise, a lady who had hitherto taken no part in the conversation. “It would never do to let him sleep in the college for a night! The poor little thing’s character would be irretrievably compromised.” “Of course it would,” agreed Principal Grey, and she set about making the necessary arrangements forthwith, while I, wondering if I had been asleep for five or six centuries, followed Hilda to the upper story in which her sleeping room was situated. But long before I reached it I felt tired to death. The marble stairs were exceedingly massive, and were apparently interminable, while the beautiful banister rails were too large for me to grasp them with my hand, and thus help myself up. I was at last compelled to sit down exhausted, feeling that not one more step could I mount. Hilda looked at me in astonishment, as I sat panting with my unwonted exertions. “Is it possible,” she cried, “that the walk up these few steps has exhausted you? You must be ill, or is it the fault of the queer clothes that you wear that you are incapable of taking exercise? But whichever way it is, you cannot sit here, so be kind enough to excuse me.” The next moment I was lifted up as if I were a child, and Hilda ran nimbly up another long flight of steps with me, finally depositing me in a room that was very handsomely furnished, though most of the articles in it were of a style the like whereof I had never seen before. Seeing that I had apparently been Rip-van-Winkelized for about six hundred years, this is not at all surprising.