ready, when he found any one who did not as greatly respect the
lady, to offer him the choice of swords or pistols. Even for Milan
he finds an extenuating word.

After Servia the general raised more foreign legions, planned
further expeditions; in Central America reorganized the small
armies of the small republics, served as United States Consul, and
offered his sword to President McKinley for use against Spain. But
with Servia the most active portion of the life of the general
ceased, and the rest has been a repetition of what went before. At
present his time is divided between New York and Virginia, where
he has been offered an executive position in the approaching
Jamestown Exposition. Both North and South he has many friends,
many admirers. But his life is, and, from the nature of his
profession, must always be, a lonely one.

While other men remain planted in one spot, gathering about them
a home, sons and daughters, an income for old age, MacIver is a
rolling stone, a piece of floating sea-weed; as the present King of
England called him fondly, "that vagabond soldier."

To a man who has lived in the saddle and upon transports,
"neighbor" conveys nothing, and even "comrade" too often means
one who is no longer living.

With the exception of the United States, of which he now is a
naturalized citizen, the general has fought for nearly every country
in the world, but if any of those for which he lost his health and
blood, and for which he risked his life, remembers him, it makes
no sign. And the general is too proud to ask to be remembered.