“‘I says to mesilf thin, “This man is a thraitor.”  But th’ thrainin’ iv a sojer makes wan cautious.  I determined to fortify mesilf with ividince.  I put spies on this man, this perfiejous wretch, an’ discovered nawthin’.  I was paralyzed.  An officer iv th’ Fr-rinch ar-rmy, an’ nawthin’ suspicyous about him!  Damnable!  I was with difficulty resthrained fr’m killin’ him.  But I desisted. [Cries iv ‘Shame!’] I said to mesilf:  “Th’ honor iv Fr-rance is at stake.  Th’ whole wurruld is lookin’ at me, at me, Bill Merceer.  I will go to bed an’ think it over.”  I wint to bed.  Sleep, blessed sleep that sews up th’ confused coat-sleeve iv care, as th’ perfiejous Shakspere [cries iv ‘Conspuez Shakspere!’] says, dayscinded on me tired eyes. [The coort weeps.] I laid aside me honor [cries iv ‘Brave gin’ral’] with me coat [murmurs].  I slept.

“‘I dhreamed that I see th’ German Impror playin’ a Jew’s-harp. [Cries iv ‘Abase Rothscheeld!’ an’ sensation.] I woke with a vi’lent start, th’ perspiration poorin’ fr’m me rugged brow.  “Cap Dhryfuss is guilty,” I cried.  But no, I will confirm me ividince.  I darted into me r-red pants.  I dhruv with fury to th’ home iv Madame Cleepathry, th’ cillibrated Agyptian asthrologist an’ med’cin woman. [Th’ coort, ’We know her, she supplies ividence to all Fr-rinch coorts.’] I tol’ her me dhream.  She projoosed a pack iv cards.  She tur-rned a r-red king an’ a black knave.  “Th’ Impror Willum an’ Cap Dhryfuss,” I says, in a fury.  I burst forth.  I had Cap Dhryfuss arristed.  I dashed to th’ prisident.  He was a-receivin’ rayfusals f’r a new cabinet.  “I have found th’ thraitor,” says I.  “Hush!” says he.  “If th’ Impror Willum hears ye, he’ll declare war,” he says.  I was stupefied.  “Oh, my beloved counthry!” I cried.  “Oh, hivin!” I cried.  “What shall I do?” I cried.  They was not a minyit to lose.  I disbanded th’ ar-rmy.  I ordhered th’ navy into dhry dock.  I had me pitcher took, I wint home an’ hid in th’ cellar.  F’r wan night Fr-rance was safe.’

“They was hardly a dhry eye in th’ house whin th’ gin’ral paused.  Th’ coort wept.  Th’ aujience wept.  Siv’ral of th’ minor journalists was swept out iv th’ room in th’ flood.  A man shovellin’ coal in th’ cellar sint up f’r an umbrella.  Th’ lawn shook with th’ convulsive sobs iv th’ former ministers.  Gin’ral Merceer raised his damp face, an’ blew a kiss to a former minister at wan iv th’ windows, an’ resumed his tistimony.”

THE DREYFUS CASE.

II.

“‘It was about this time or some years later,’ continues Gin’ral Merceer, ‘that I received ividince iv th’ Cap’s guilt.  I made it mesilf.  It was a letter written be me fr’m th’ Cap to a German grocer, askin’ f’r twinty r-rounds iv sausage. [Turmoil in the coort.] It was impossible, mon colonel, that this here letter cud have been written be Estherhazy.  In th’ first place he was in Paris at th’