e a perfect palace."
They arrived, and John was awed into silence by the magnificence and splendors of his surroundings until they went to the bath-room to wash off the dust of travel. There he happened to notice a cake of pink soap.
"Why," he said, "they've even got their soap painted!" Next morning he woke early--they were occupying the mahogany room on the ground floor --and slipping out through the library, and to the door of the dining-room, he saw the colored butler, George--the immortal George--setting the breakfast-table. He hurriedly tiptoed back and whispered to his father:
"Come quick! The slave is setting the table!"
This being the second mention of George, it seems proper here that he should be formally presented. Clemens used to say that George came one day to wash windows and remained eighteen years. He was precisely the sort of character that Mark Twain loved. He had formerly been the body-servant of an army general and was typically racially Southern, with those de