! Hereupon he flung back his coat, worn in
Russian fashion with the sleeves hanging, and let his faded red cotton
shirt fall from his muscular shoulders, leaving him nude to the waist,
save for the cheap little baptismal cross suspended round his neck by a
cord. The small boys set up a shout of laughter at his story and his
action. The countess rebuked him sharply for such conduct before the
children, and refused to interfere in the quarrel. The man pulled his
torn shirt over his body and slouched off. That evening, after tea, the
count happened to hit upon a couple of Mr. Rider Haggard's books for
discussion, and, for the benefit of those in the company who had not
read it, gave the chief points of "She" in particularly lively style,
which kept us all in laughter. In describing the heroine, he said that
"she was clothed in an airy garment, like Vasily Alexei'itch;" and again
that "she dropped her garment, and stood like Vasily Alexei'itch." He
pronounced "She" and other works of Haggard "the lowest type of
literature," and said that "it was astonishing how so many English
people could go wild over them." He seemed to read everything, good and
bad, and to possess not only an omnivorous literary appetite, but a
wonderful memory for books, even in small details.

Among the innumerable things which he read were Mormon publications,
sent him regularly from headquarters. I cannot explain the object of the
Mormons in making him the point of attack. He thought very highly of the
doctrines of the Mormons as set forth by themselves, and could not
understand why they were "persecuted" in America. No one had ever sent
him documents on the other side of the question, and he seemed as
ignorant of it as I was of the Mormon arguments. In answer to his
queries, I told him that the problems involved were too numerous,
serious, and complicated for me to enter upon; that the best way, under
such circumstances, was for him to read statements set down in black and
white by recognized authorities on the subject; and that I would cause
books on the matter to be forwarded to him, which I did. But he
persisted that our government is in the wrong.

"It is a shame," said he, "that in a great and free country like America
a community of people should be so oppressed, and not allowed that
liberty of which you boast."

"You know your Dickens well," I answered. "Have you any recollection of
Martin Chuzzlewit? You will remember that when Martin was