in her mind all the rooms in her little box of a home. There was one, convenient, appropriate, and secure--the store-room. No sooner said than done. To see this fierce-looking Kickapoo clad in robes of savagery, and gleaming in all the paint of the war-path, seated on Miss Slopham's refrigerator, and looking about on either side with barbaric curiosity at her array of shelves of jars and bottles, while he ate raspberry jam out of a rare and elegant saucer with an exquisite silver spoon, might have seemed a ludicrous spectacle to anybody less austere than Miss Slopham. But she only gave a sigh of relief, and softly turned the key, and went away to prepare for her guests. Ogla-Moga did not miss her. He finished the saucer of jam, and finished the jar, and then began explorations. He found various relishes, condiments, and preserves, and what not, all of which he tasted, some of which he enjoyed, and some of which he seemed to objurgate in choice Kickapoo. At last--for his terrific figure was now erect on the refrigerator--he saw something that sent a gleam of joy across his fiery face. It was a dark bottle that bore an inscription which he could not read, "S. O. P. Brandy." But there is one sense which needs no education. He pulled out the cork, and put the mouth of the bottle to his nostrils; then he smiled grimly, and straightway sat down on the refrigerator. The time had arrived for Miss Slopham to read her paper. Mr. Michst claimed the attention of the company by tapping on a table with a paper-knife. "Laties and shentlemen," said he, "we haf come here dis efening as drue philossophers--not for our own selfish bleasure enti-er-_lee_, but"--Mr. Margent looked uneasy, and fidgeted in his chair--"in order to hellp in de solution of one of de great questions of de day--de Indian question. I haf met some off dese obbressed and downdrodden beoble. I know how amiable, how excellent, they are--like little shildren dey haf lissened to me ven I haf talked to dem of de _aura_ of Schrellenbach and de ofersoul--all vunder, and, I know, all pelief. But I vill not take down de time. My young and pyootiful friend, Miss Slobham" (the good, loyal man was sadly near-sighted), "vill read to you, and I belief she vill have some derrible dings to say."