XXVI 

 HISTORY IN THE MAKING 



In our tour of the club rooms we now arrive in 

 Havana that is to say, the smoking room, so 

 called, of the SADDLE AND SIRLOIN CLUB. They are 

 all smoking rooms, so far as I have ever observed. 

 But, anyhow, drop here into an easy-chair, and if 

 you enjoy the weed pull away at your Perfecto if 

 you like, while we seek through the floating cloud- 

 wreaths the lines of certain extraordinary scenes. 

 The well-trained eye can see these pictures stand- 

 ing out in bold relief behind the canvas that carries 

 the features of MARK W. DUNHAM. Note the pass- 

 ing panorama. 



Under a gray old castle's frowning walls a draw- 

 bridge falls across the moat. The trumpets sound. 

 A glittering cavalcade emerges. Pennons gay and 

 guidons flutter in the breeze. Steel and silver 

 corselet, hilt and morion glisten in the morning 

 sun, and noble chargers, mostly white and gray, 

 prance proudly, bearing out into the medieval world 

 brave belted knights and their retainers faring forth 

 to meet what ere betides. 



Generations pass: in the far distance the rhythmic 

 beating of heavy hurrying hoofs! It is a highway 



225 



