up _Robert the Devil_. It seems like the Nun Ballet--uncommonly.

_Wednesday_.--SMALL BITE is here. He's friendly enough, but his terms
are too high. Fancy they must have been trying to annex him for the
Aquarium. The Ghost-Dance is a fraud. Nothing in it. Might fake
it up a bit with national flags and red fire. But it's decidedly
disappointing. Altogether small pumpkins.

_Thursday_.--Settlers want to know when I am going to begin. They are
always in such a darned hurry. They ought to know I am the hero of a
hundred fights (see my Autobiography--a few copies of which may still
be had at the almost nominal price of half-a-dollar) and should rely
on me accordingly. Am to visit the Indian Camp to-morrow.

_Friday_.--Terms agreed. SMALL BITE and fifty braves engage themselves
for six months certain, sharing terms, travelling exes, and one clear
benefit. I find front of the curtain and advertising, they provide
entertainment, which is to include Ghost-Dance (with banners and
red fire) religious rites, war-dance, and scalping expedition
with incidentals (SMALL BITE says he knows "some useful knockabout
niggers") and procession in and out of towns. Think I can boom it.

_Saturday_.--My connection with war ended. Calculate I start to-morrow
with the Show across the herring-pond, to wake up the Crowned Heads of
Europe!

* * * * *

TO THE BIG BACILLICIDE.