map of Warwickshire.  This had been newly labeled “The Rossmore Estates.”  On the opposite wall was another map, and this was the most imposing decoration of the establishment and the first to catch a stranger’s attention, because of its great size.  It had once borne simply the title Siberia; but now the word “Future” had been written in front of that word.  There were other additions, in red ink—­many cities, with great populations set down, scattered over the vast-country at points where neither cities nor populations exist to-day.  One of these cities, with population placed at 1,500,000, bore the name “Libertyorloffskoizalinski,” and there was a still more populous one, centrally located and marked “Capital,” which bore the name “Freedomolovnaivanovich.”

The “mansion”—­the Colonel’s usual name for the house—­was a rickety old two-story frame of considerable size, which had been painted, some time or other, but had nearly forgotten it.  It was away out in the ragged edge of Washington and had once been somebody’s country place.  It had a neglected yard around it, with a paling fence that needed straightening up, in places, and a gate that would stay shut.  By the door-post were several modest tin signs.  “Col.  Mulberry Sellers, Attorney at Law and Claim Agent,” was the principal one.  One learned from the others that the Colonel was a Materializer, a Hypnotizer, a Mind-Cure dabbler; and so on.  For he was a man who could always find things to do.

A white-headed negro man, with spectacles and damaged white cotton gloves appeared in the presence, made a stately obeisance and announced: 

“Marse Washington Hawkins, suh.”

“Great Scott!  Show him in, Dan’l, show him in.”

The Colonel and his wife were on their feet in a moment, and the next moment were joyfully wringing the hands of a stoutish, discouraged-looking man whose general aspect suggested that he was fifty years old, but whose hair swore to a hundred.

“Well, well, well, Washington, my boy, it is good to look at you again.  Sit down, sit down, and make yourself at home.  There, now—­why, you look perfectly natural; aging a little, just a little, but you’d have known him anywhere, wouldn’t you, Polly?”

“Oh, yes, Berry, he’s just like his pa would have looked if he’d lived.  Dear, dear, where have you dropped from?  Let me see, how long is it since—­”

I should say it’s all of fifteen` years, Mrs. Sellers.”

“Well, well, how time does get away with us.  Yes, and oh, the changes that—­”

There was a sudden catch of her voice and a trembling of the lip, the men waiting reverently for her to get command of herself and go on; but after a little struggle she turned away, with her apron to her eyes, and softly disappeared.

“Seeing you made her think of the children, poor thing—­dear, dear, they’re all dead but the youngest.

“But banish care, it’s no time for it now—­on with the dance, let joy be unconfined is my motto, whether there’s any dance to dance; or any joy to unconfine—­you’ll be the healthier for it every time,—­every time, Washington—­it’s my experience, and I’ve seen a good deal of this world.  Come—­where have you disappeared to all these years, and are you from there, now, or where are you from?”