They finished up with a visit to Paris, for this city ought to be seen last, (or ought to have been before the war.)
The five were looking at some fine picturesque monument and commenting upon it, when a voice behind them drew their attention to the speaker.
“Sacré,” said the person behind them, “it is von great pleasure for me to welcome mine friends to la belle France. Mon Dieu, monsieurs, it is von fine country.”
They did not recognize the speaker. He was finely dressed, and had a gold representation of an herb pinned onto his coat lapel.
“Deuce take it, boys, it’s the ‘Mounseer,’” said Ralph, emphasizing the word, which he could speak as well as any one if he chose; “look at the umbrella.” It was the truth.
The stylish gentleman was Monsieur Tierney, now a noted professor. His rival had quit the ranks of the naturalists when he had come home with the wonderful herb, the model of which he wore as an emblem.
He was a rich man now, and still he carried the huge umbrella which had done so much service on the plains.
He took our friends to a magnificent mansion which he owned, and treated them in a sumptuous manner.
He promised to come out in a few years and see them and that wonderful horse, Snow Cloud.
The professor gave a large supper in their honor, and at the table he arose to his feet and gave a toast which brought forth cheers.