both sides.

Also from England--she will fight both sides.

....................

LONDON, Thursday evening.

I rushed over too soon. I shall return home on Tuesday's steamer and
wait until the war begins. M. T.

THE WILD MAN INTERVIEWED [From the Buffalo Express, September 18, 1869.]

There has been so much talk about the mysterious "wild man" out there in
the West for some time, that I finally felt it was my duty to go out and
interview him. There was something peculiarly and touchingly romantic
about the creature and his strange actions, according to the newspaper
reports. He was represented as being hairy, long-armed, and of great
strength and stature; ugly and cumbrous; avoiding men, but appearing
suddenly and unexpectedly to women and children; going armed with a
club, but never molesting any creature, except sheep, or other prey;
fond of eating and drinking, and not particular about the quality,
quantity, or character of the beverages and edibles; living in the woods
like a wild beast, but never angry; moaning, and sometimes howling, but
never uttering articulate sounds.

Such was "Old Shep" as the papers painted him. I felt that the story of
his life must be a sad one--a story of suffering, disappointment, and
exile--a story of man's inhumanity to man in some shape or other--and I
longed to persuade the secret from him.

.....................

"Since you say you are a member of the press," said the wild man, "I
am willing to tell you all you wish to know. Bye and bye you will
comprehend why it is that I wish to unbosom myself to a newspaper man
when I have so studiously avoided conversation with other people. I will
now unfold my strange story. I was born with the world we live upon,
almost. I am the son of Cain."

"What?"

"I was present when the flood was announced."

"Which?"

"I am the father of the Wandering Jew."

"Sir?"

I moved out of range of his club, and went on taking notes, but keeping
a wary eye on him all the while. He smiled a melancholy smile and
resumed:

"When I glance back over the dreary waste of ages, I see many a
glimmering and mark that is familiar to my memory. And oh, the leagues
I have travelled! the things I have seen! the events I have helped to
emphasise! I was at the assassination of Caesar. I marched upon Mecca
with Mahomet. I was in the Crusades, and stood with Godfrey when he
planted the banner of the c