HOW I GOT MY OVERCOAT. 161 



only mitigated satisfaction that I heard of the 

 sending in irons to his company in California of 

 deserter Stabenow. 



If the Herr Lieutenant Graf zu Dohna-Schlo- 

 dien of the Gardecorps Kurassier is still living, 

 I beg to inform him that his overcoat — the only 

 memento of a grave Schwindelei — is now a com- 

 fortable wrap to a Rhode Island farmer, who 

 hopes that its rightful owner is as snugly clad 

 in his winter rides about Versailles. 



