ate speed since we left Kachgar. On the
opposite horizon we can see the high lands of the Pamir; to the
southwest rises the Bolor, the Kachgarian belt from which towers the
summit of Tagharma lost among the clouds.

I do not know how to spend my time. Major Noltitz has never visited the
territories crossed by the Grand Transasiatic, and I am deprived of the
pleasure of taking notes from his dictation. Dr. Tio-King does not lift
his nose from his Cornaro, and Pan Chao reminds me more of Paris and
France than of Pekin and China; besides, when he came to Europe he came
by Suez, and he knows no more of Oriental Turkestan than he does of
Kamtschatka. All the same, we talk. He is a pleasant companion, but a
little less amiability and a little more originality would suit me
better.

I am reduced to strolling from one car to another, lounging on the
platforms, interrogating the horizon, which obstinately refuses to
reply, listening on all sides.

Hello! there are the actor and his wife apparently in animated
conversation. I approach. They sing in an undertone. I listen.

"I'm fond of my turkeys--eys--eys," says Madame Caterna.

"I'm fond of my wethers--ers--ers," says Monsieur Caterna, in any
number of baritones.

It is the everlasting duet between Pipo and Bettina; and they are
rehearsing for Shanghai. Happy Shanghai! They do not yet know the
_Mascotte_!

Ephrinell and Miss Bluett are talking away with unusual animation, and
I catch the end of the dialogue.

"I am afraid," said she, "that hair will be rising in Pekin--"

"And I," said he, "that teeth will be down. Ah! If a good war would
only break out in which the Russians would give the Chinaman a smack on
the jaw."

There now! Smack them on the jaw, in order that Strong, Bulbul & Co.,
of New York, might have a chance of doing a trade!

Really I do not know what to do, and we have a week's journey before
us. To Jericho with the Grand Transasiatic and its monotonous security!
The Great Trunk from New York to San Francisco has more life in it! At
least, the redskins do sometimes attack the trains, and the chance of a
scalping on the road cannot but add to the charm of the voyage!

But what is that I hear being recited, or rather intoned at the end of
our compartment?

"There is no man, whoever he may be, who cannot prevent himself from
eating too much, and avoid the evils due to repletion. On those who are
intrusted with the direction of public affairs this is