and see the “elephant;” but Somers, having no taste for the study of this description of natural history, positively declined to see the metaphorical monster.

“We must go somewhere,” persisted the captain, taking up a newspaper. “Here’s a ‘Lecture on the Battle of Bull Run, by Lieutenant-Colonel Staggerback, who participated in that memorable action,’” he continued, reading from the paper.

“I was in that battle myself; I don’t object to that,” replied Somers.

“Good! Then we’ll go.”

They walked up Broadway till they came to one of those gaudy saloons where rum and ruin are tricked out in the gayest of colors.

“We are early for the lecture, Somers. Let’s go in here, and see what there is to be seen.”

“No, I thank you; I don’t care about going into any of these dens of vice and sin.”

repeated the captain with dramatic force.

You needn’t see it but once. Don’t you want to see the lions of the metropolis?”

“Don’t object to the lions; but, in my opinion, you will find only the donkeys in there.”

“Let us see, at any rate.”

“I will go in for a moment,” replied Somers, who did not like to seem over-squeamish.

They entered this outer gate to ruin. There was a bar at the end next to the street, while at the other end a band of music was playing the national airs. It looked like a very pleasant place to the young lieutenant, who had never entered one of these saloons before.