"How very much there is to see here!" remarked Dr. Conly--"men, women, and
children from all parts of the world, clad in their own odd, native
attire; Chinese, Japanese, Dahomeyans, Nubians, wild Arabs, Persians,
Soudanese, Algerians, Javanese, and Cingalese."

"And some of the buildings are as singular in appearance as the people who
occupy them," added his wife.

"Let us visit the village and castle of Blarney," said Rosie.

"You want to kiss the Blarney Stone, do you?" asked Herbert laughingly.

"No need of that," said Walter; "she can blarney fast enough if she wants
to, and that without ever having seen the stone."

"What is blarney, papa?" asked little Elsie.

"Coaxing, wheedling, and flattering," he replied. "The village we are
going to see is said to be a fair representation of one of that name in
Ireland, about four miles from the city of Cork, in which there is a
castle called Blarney Castle, which has stood there for more than four
hundred years. The castle has a tower, as you will see, and on the top of
it is a stone the kissing of which is said to confer the gift of ability
to wheedle and flatter. But the true stone is said to be another in a wall
where it can be kissed only by a person held over the parapet."

"Oh, I shouldn't like that at all, papa!" Elsie exclaimed. "I'd be afraid
of falling, and I shouldn't like to kiss a dirty stone."