tors of that
institution. Being pointed out, the thin man made a _lean_ towards him.
After getting close up, and twisting and screwing around his head to see
that nobody was listening or looking, the lean man sat down very
gingerly upon the extreme verge of a chair, and leaning forward until
his razor-made nose almost touched that of the publisher, in a low,
nasal, anxious tone, says he,

"Air yeou one of the publishers of this paper?"

"I am, sir."

"Oh, yeou, sir!" said the visitor, again looking suspiciously around and
about him.

"Did you ever hear tell of the _Pigeon Express_?" he continued.

"The Pigeon Express?" echoed the publisher.

"Ya-a-s. Carrier pigeons--letters to their l-e-g-s and newspapers under
their wings--trained to fly any where you warnt 'em."

"Carrier Pigeons," mused the publisher--"Carrier--pigeons trained to
carry billets--bulletins and--"

"Go frum fifty to a hundred miles an hour!" chimed in the stranger.

"True, so they say, very true," continued the publisher, musingly.

"Elegant things for gettin' or sendin' noos head of every body else."

"Precisely: that's a fact, that's a fact," the other responded, rising
from his chair and pacing the floor, as though rather and decidedly
_taken_ by the novelty and feasibility of the operation.

"You'd have 'em all, Mister, dead as mutton, by a Pigeon Express."

"I like the idea; good, first rate!"

"Can't be beat, noheow!" said the stranger.

"But what would it cost?"

"Two hundred dollars, and a small wagon, to begin on."

"A small wagon?"

"Ya-a-s. Yeou see, Mister, the birds haff to be trained to fly from one
_pint_ to another!"

"Yes; well?"

"Wa-a-ll, yeou see the birds are put in a box, on the top of the
bildin', for a spell, teu git the _hang_ of things, and so on!"

"Yes, very well; go on."

"Then the birds are put in a cage, the trainer takes 'em into his
wagon--ten miles at first--throws 'em up, and the birds go to the
bildin'. Next day fifteen miles, and so forth; yeou see?"

"Perfectly; I understand; now, where can these birds be had?"

Putting his thin lips close to the publisher's opening ears, in a low,
long way, says the stranger--

"_I've got 'em!_ R-a-l-e Persian birds--be-e-utis!"

"You understand training them?" says the anxious publisher.

"_Like a book_," the stranger responded.

"Where are the birds?" the publisher inquired.

"I've got 'em down to the tavern, where I'm stoppin'."

"Bring th