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“I did not indulge in the pleasure of visiting your honourable self this morning, as I find my body not to be enjoying the normal exercise of its functions.

“As regards the skins from the mountain, you shall be waited on by a small boy at seven o’clock at night with ten skins from which you may select those which most satisfy your aspirations.

“In the hope that you will look upon this in the same light as myself, I beg to be allowed to remain,

“Your most faithful servant,

” CAPTAIN ERNESTO BECUCCI.”

Well, thought I, this Captain Ernesto Becucci has shown himself to be such an undependable person, that, while I don’t mind rewarding him for his composition, I fear me if I do I never shall lay eyes on those leopard skins. So to Eliceo I gave this letter for the Captain:

“MY DEAR CAPTAIN BECUCCI:

“Have the boy bring the skins at seven o’clock this evening, when I shall be glad to look at them. This evening when the boy brings the skins, I shall be pleased to give him, in an envelope, for you, a tangible return for your musical composition.

“Please put the price on each skin, and also let me know for what sum all the skins will sell together.

“Sincerely yours,

“JACK LONDON.”

Now, thought I, I have him. No skins, no tangible return; and evidently he is set on receiving that tangible return.

At seven o’clock Eliceo was back, but without leopard skins. He handed me this letter:

“SENOR LONDON:

“I wish to instil in you the belief that I lost to-day, at half past three in the afternoon, the key to my cubicle. While distributing rations to the soldiers I dropped it. I see in this loss the act of God.

“I received a letter from your honourable self, delivered by the one who bears you this poor response of mine. To-morrow I will burst open the door to permit me to keep my word with you. I feel myself eternally shamed not to be able to dominate the evils that afflict colonial mankind. Please send me the trifle that you offered me. Send me this proof of your appreciation by the bearer, who is to be trusted. Also give to him a small sum of money for himself, and earn the undying gratitude of

Your most faithful servant,

“CAPTAIN ERNESTO BECUCCI.”

Also, inclosed in the foregoing letter was the following original poem, e propos neither of leopard skins nor tangible returns, so far as I can make out:

EFFUSION

Thou canst not weep;
Nor ask I for a year
To rid me of my woes
Or make my life more dear.

The mystic chains that bound
Thy all-fond heart to mine,
Alas! asundered are
For now and for all time.

In vain you strove to hide,
From vulgar gaze of man,
The burning glance of love
That none but Love can scan.

Go on thy starlit way
And leave me to my fate;
Our souls must needs unite –
But, God! ’twill be too late.

To all and sundry of which I replied:

“MY DEAR CAPTAIN BECUCCI:

“I regret exceedingly to hear that by act of God, at half past three this afternoon, you lost the key to your cubicle. Please have the boy bring the skins at seven o’clock to-morrow morning, at which time, when he brings the skins, I shall be glad to make you that tangible return for your “Tranquil Hour Waltz.”

“Sincerely yours,

“JACK LONDON.”

At seven o’clock came no skins, but the following:

“SIR:

“After offering you my most sincere respects, I beg to continue by telling you that no one, up to the time of writing, has treated me with such lack of attention. It was a present to GENTLEMEN who were to retain the piece of music, and who have all, without exception, made me a present of five dollars. It is beyond my humble capacity to believe that you, after having offered to send me money in an envelope, should fail to do so.

“Send me, I pray of you, the money to remunerate the small boy for his repeated visits to you. Please be discreet and send it in an envelope by the bearer.

“Last night I came to the hotel with the boy. You were dining. I waited more than an hour for you and then went to the theatre. Give the boy some small amount, and send me a like offering of larger proportions.

“Awaiting incessantly a slight attention on your part,

“CAPTAIN ERNESTO BECUCCI.”

And here, like one of George Moore’s realistic studies, ends this intercourse with Captain Ernesto Becucci. Nothing happened. Nothing ever came to anything. He got no tangible return, and I got no leopard skins. The tangible return he might have got, I presented to Eliceo, who promptly invested it in a pair of trousers and a ticket to the bull-fight.

(NOTE TO EDITOR.–This is a faithful narration of what actually happened in Quito, Ecuador.)