catching wild horses in Texas with his adventurous cousin, at a time
when he must have been quite a boy. He told the story with a good deal
of spirit--so much so, that the silence which often follows a good
story hung over the table for an instant, to be broken by Nolan
himself. For he asked perfectly unconsciously:

"Pray, what has become of Texas? After the Mexicans got their
independence, I thought that province of Texas would come forward very
fast. It is really one of the finest regions on earth; it is the Italy
of this continent. But I have not seen or heard a word of Texas for
nearly twenty years."

There were two Texan officers at the table. The reason he had never
heard of Texas was that Texas and her affairs had been painfully cut
out of his newspapers since Austin began his settlements; so that,
while he read of Honduras and Tamaulipas, and, till quite lately, of
California--this virgin province, in which his brother had travelled
so far, and I believe, had died, had ceased to be to him. Waters and
Williams, the two Texas men, looked grimly at each other and tried not
to laugh. Edward Morris had his attention attracted by the third link
in the chain of the captain's chandelier. Watrous was seized with a
convulsion of sneezing. Nolan himself saw that something was to pay,
he did not know what. And I, as master of the feast, had to say:

"Texas is out of the map, Mr. Nolan. Have you seen Captain Back's
curious account of Sir Thomas Roe's Welcome?"

After that cruise I never saw Nolan again. I wrote to him at least
twice a year, for in that voyage we became even confidentially
intimate; but he never wrote to me. The other men tell me that in
those fifteen years he _aged_ very fast, as well he might indeed, but
that he was still the same gentle, uncomplaining, silent sufferer that
he ever was, bearing as best he could his self-appointed
punishment--rather less social, perhaps, with new men whom he did not
know, but more anxious, apparently, than ever to serve and befriend
and teach the boys, some of whom fairly seemed to worship him. And now
it seems the dear old fellow is dead. He has found a home at last, and
a country.

Since writing this, and while considering whether or not I would print
it, as a warning to the young Nolans and Vallandighams and Tatnalls of
to-day of what it is to throw away a country, I have received from
Danforth, who is on board the _Levant_, a letter which gives an
account of Nolan