The progressive farmer. [volume] (Winston, N.C.) 1886-1904, 1891-10-20
FROM ROYAL FAVOR TO A SHEEP
RANCH,
Or the Tell-Tale Photograph.

woman, remote, as she maintained,
from all civilization. A charming con-
versationalist, she often entertained us
for hours at our little "hut"-as she
called the boarding house-where we
had occasional dinners together over
buffalo meat and canned tom Atoes. She
could talk all day in delightful stories
of the court and nobility life of the old
world. or in the more thrilling tales OF
tragedies on the deserts of Africa or in
the .iungles Of Asia.
There was such a flavor of genuine
ness about the incidents ~related-such
a sincerity in their recital-that it was
evident beyond any question that her
facts had been all gained in the school
of her own personal experience; that
her stories were from actual life as
seen by herself and not through the
mere written tales Of others.
Nor was this all. No subject came
up for discussion but she was ready
with many interesting and instruc-
tive facts and illustrations. She
appeared to be a genuine, animated
cyclopedia, and especially in matters
relating to wal and travel. She was
crammed to the fullest with wonderful
and varied adventures and romantic
and stirring episodes. She had seen a
life Of marvellous and strange and
startling events; hers had been indeed
the most wonderful career on record
for a woman at least.
But who was this woman?
That was a mystery which grew
upon me, for l knew nothing of her
own personal history, outside events
related. She had preserved a cautious
silence on that point. But how came
she there on the wild frontiers of our
great west?
She had interested me with so many
stories from Europe and the Orient
and from the wilds of Africa-literary
student that l was-that my curiosity
was reused to the very highest pitch
to know something more concerning
her history. But for reasons, which [
shall soon explain, I did not presume to
ply her with interrOgatories in regard
to her past. But this much l had
learned: She had been nearer the
actual throne of England than any
one whom I had ever known excepting
the Prince Of Wales, whom l met in
1860, while l was living in Richmond,
Va. She had told me many anecdotes
of the home life Of Queen Victoria.
She professed also to have been on
intimate terms with Eugenia, late
empress of France; and she told me
also that she had actually danced with
Louis Napoleon himself. contributed
somewhat to her surprise by the state
ment that during late war I had
shared my blanket n night while an
officer in Virginia witha brother officer
who had slept with Napoleon on his
escape from the prison of Ham, and
who had also footed the Alps with
Veto Hugo.
The strange woman told me- n day
how-among other marvellous incidents
in her history-she had crossed the
African desert on hOrseback-the first
white woman from England who had
ever achieved that exploit. She had
ridden from Bombay to Calcutta on
an elephant; and she had witnessed
the British wars in India. She knew
Zanzibar and the Cape of Good Hope,
apparently by heart.
But how came she away on the
American frontier so far from the
great heart of civilization?
Here is her story, which I heard from
her own lips, and under the following
circumstances:
One rainy afternoon 1 was invited to
join in a game of whist with some COM
pany assembled at L" the hut" I ex-
cused myself by saying that chess was
the only game at which [ played well
enough to interest any one. This was
apparently a bit Of delightful infOrma-
ton to the lady, who told me that she
was-or rather that she had been-a
great devotee to "that noble game"
but that she had not played since
leaving India. But she. must have a
game with me if chess-men could be
held. Fortunately the place afforded
us a good set, and the old lady and I
sat down that afternoon to our game.
By way of anticipating or excusing
any faux pas in the opening game, the
lady said that she had not played in
years, but that her last game had been
with Lord, and she mentioned
cOV00O na1o1-, o--s-z-4 - H. Dri4iCI