The National tribune., 1882-01-21
THE poRTER,s IRON COLLAR,

the midst OF wide plain, stands the Cars cOun-
try palace of Tsarskoe-Selo Gears village), the
great park of which is very pretty place in fine
summer weather. All through June and July
you may see the Russian children running about
under the trees by scores, with a shouting and
laughing that would do the Cars heart good to
hear, if he were anywhere within reach. In every
shady spot you are pretty sure to find a picnic
party making merry ON the grass, with two or
three well-flled lunch-baskets beside them and
when you come to the little summer-houses
near the lake, you will most likely find at least
half dozen people in each, gathered around
big bowl of prostokuash which is the Russian
name for curds and cream.
This lake is one of the great 'sights" of the
park for it has boat-house filled with a model
of every kind of boat in the world down to
Greenland tshing-boats and Polynesian war
canoes and when they are all sent floating over
the lakes after dark, hung with colored lamps,
they make very fine show indeed. But there
is something even better worth seeing little
farther on, and that is the palace museum, filled
with strange presents which have been given to
the Russian Cars by various kings, savage or
civilized, from jeweled sword presented by the
first Napoleon to Persian carpet sent by the
Ameer of Bokhara.
On table near the door lies very curious
relic, which every one who comes in notices at
once. 1t is large silver dish, rolled up like
sheet of paper, so as to make a kind of funnel;
and if you ask the old soldier who shows the
museum how it came to be twisted up like that,
he will give knowing grin, and ask if you ever
heard of Count Gregory Orloff
This Gregory Orloff was a Russian count who
lived about hundred years ago, and was not
only a count, but an admiral as well, though
there were people who said that if he had had to
manage the feet by himself, instead of having
three or four excellent naval commanders to help
him, he would have made poor job of it. But
whatever doubts there might be about his sea-
manship there could be none about his strength,
for ne was one of the largest and most powerful
men in Russia. Like many other giants, be was,
perhaps just a little too fond of showing off his
great strength. Nothing pleased him more than
to bend horseshoe between his fingers, or pull
out of the ground stake which no one else could
move; and if one of his sailors turned mutinous,
and began to make noise, Orloff would Just take
him by the throat, and shake him like a cat
shakes a mouse, after which the brawler was
usually quiet enough.
Now, it happened that one night this strong
handed admiral was at an evening party at the
palace, and as he was handing bouquet of flow
ers to one of the ladies' the silver paper which
was wrapped around it slipped off. -Orloff said
nothing, but stepped to the supper-table, and tax
ing up silver dish, rolled it up like piece of
paper, put the bouquet into it, and handed it to
the lady; and this is the dish you see in the
museum.
Not long after this, Orloff arrived in ST. Peters,
burg from journey, and was met at his own
door by a messenger from the palace, who told
him that the Empress particularly wished to see
him, and that he must go to her at once. Some
men would have waited to put on their finest
clothes, and to make themselves look quite gay
and dandifed but the admiral was used to obey
ing orders at once, and off he started for the
palace, just as he was.
Now, while the admiral had been journeying,
there had come to the palace new hall-porter
who had never seen him before. This porter was
strong fellow, although not nearly as big as
Orloff, and not nice-tempered man by any
means; so when he saw the admiral's big coarse
looking ugly figure coming up to the door of the
stately palace in dusty travelng-d dress, he
shouted fercely:
"Be off, you yagabond You've no business
here! Who are yOw, should like to know?"
Orloff never answered but stopped and picked
up long iron bar that fastened the door at
night. One jerk Of his great strong hands
twisted it around the porter's neck like ribbon,
so that the poor fellow had to hold up the ends.
"Now, my boy" said he, with broad grin, go
and show yourself to the Empress with that
iron collar on, and she will know who ami"
Then the porter knew at once that this must
be the terrible Count Orloff, of whose strength
he had heard so much, and he ellon his knees to
ask pardon. But Orloff only laughed and told
him not to be quite so ready to judge man by
his outside another time; and, indeed, from that
day forth, the porter was always civil to every
body.-Davia Ker, in ST. Nicholas.
To the soldier, the tenderest memories of the
past centre around those who have been his COM
rades
The first gun of the Rebellion was fired at
Fort Sumter on Henry Clay's birthday. The
fort surrendered on Thomas Jefferson's birthday.
The contest began in the streets of Baltimore on
the anniversary of the hatfIa of Iaxino4oo and