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wise engaged. I regret to say that I tried the experiment. I lighted a match--at least I think I did--but there was a haziness about the subsequent proceedings that prevents accuracy of statement. I distinctly remember striking the match. At that moment, however, I was fluently propelled upward; a tornado caught me--whirled me around eleven times. As I came down a pile-driver drove me in the stomach, and I came to earth with that sensation (only intensified) that a man feels who sits down in what he imagines to be a high chair, and which he afterward things was about seven feet lower than his estimate. I saw whole milky ways of constellations that never before existed. I realized for the first time the dense solidity of the earth, and made the astonishing discovery that under certain circumstances our planet, instead of revolving on its own axis once in every twenty-four hours, can rush around at the rate of at least one hundred revolutions a minute. There is not in the whole range of languages, ancient, modern, or profane, terms sufficiently expressive to describe the state of my feelings, the amount of mud on my person, or the chaotic condition of my brain. As soon as the earth settled down to the usual speed of her diurnal motion, I came to the conclusion that it was not always best to judge by appearances. I had been hasty in bestowing a distinctive cognomen on my erratic steed. He had no more deliberation in him than has a fugitive flea under the searching scrutiny of a determined woman. I re-named him. This time I called him "Delay," because delay is--but it does not matter.

Come to think of it since, the reason was weak. If, however, the reader should pierce the intricate labyrinth of mental ingenuity that constitutes the conundrum, I trust he will be charitable enough to consider the circumstances connected with its perpetration.

There are times that try men's souls. There are seasons in every Christian's life when he wishes he was not a church member for just about five minutes, that he might have a chance to do justice to the surroundings. Such to me was the trying moment when I gathered my bruised remains together, and, looking around, saw the festive "Delay" quietly eating grass, while a little distance off sat the doctor on his pony, complacently whistling, "Earth hath no sorrow that Heaven cannot heal."

GENERAL-CONSULATE OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.

MR. NATE SALSBURY. ROME, 3D MARCH, 1890.

RESPECTED SIR:--

The Roman papers report that COLONEL CODY has engaged with Don Onorio Caetani Herzogs of Sermoneta, Prince of Teano, etc., etc., that he will to-morrow ride in the Exhibition of thos town some of his untamed stallions.

I send you, therefore, some of this gentleman's reference lists, also information as to his family and his horses, which may be of interest at this time.

The great lordly family of the Cajetans is the oldest is the oldest amongst the noble families of Rome. The Cajetans were once the lords over the entire Roman districts of Velletri (twenty-five miles south of Rome), near Fondi (on the Terracina side).

They gave two Pontiffs to the Throne of St. Peter, Gelasius II. (1118), and Boniface VII. (1294), and were the close allies of the Connas and the Orsinis, in their long contests with the Papacy in the eleventh and twelfth centuries.

Their large estates were confiscated by Pope Alexander VI. (1492-1503), but were afterward restored under another Pontiff.

The present chief representative of the family is Don Onorio Caetani Herzog of Sermoneta, Prince of Teano, etc., etc. He is the son of the late Prince Michael Angelo Caetani, renowned for his studies and commentaries on the works of the poet Dante and his manifold services in the interests of Italian culture and art in general.

The family residence in Rome is the Cajetan Palace, where the family pedigree and archives is key.

These genealogies and documents are the most complete of all the great historic Roman families. Some of the branches of the pedigree are dated back into Cajetans of the ninth and tenth centuries.

The small village of Cisterna, where the untamed stallions are kept, lies about thirty-one miles south of Rome; it is situated on the same line as the old Appian Way. The archaeological and historic name of the village was "The Three Taverns," where the holy Apostle Paul (in the Book of Acts, chapter xviii, and 15th verse) arrived, and found some of his friends come to meet him, on his journey toward Rome.

This ancient site, and the whole surrounding district, is still the property of the Cajetans.

The Prince's horses, which will be chosen for this test from the Cisterna Campagna, are known in Rome as the Cajetan breed, and hold their own for the wildest and unmanageable in the country.