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OUR NEXT-DOOR NEIGHBOR.

A more perilous adventure was never more successfully executed; thanks, and thanks only, under God, to the sagacity and shrewdness and patient push of Dr. Julius A. Skilton, our consul-general, James Sullivan, Esq., and Señor Mendez, their attorney. To them the whole business was intrusted. A glance at the spacious quarters on the Monday after my arrival, which was the previous Saturday night, was sufficient. I have never seen them since. I hardly dared glance at them as I passed the street, for fear some Jesuit looker-on might notice a too fond expression in the eyes, and report the danger to the high-priest. So great is this peril, that Bishop Keener, of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, who was at the same time negotiating for suitable quarters, informed me that he had made his selection, but only by riding by the place in a carriage, he not daring to inspect it more thoroughly. I regret to add that he failed in securing this spot, perhaps because the man he rode with or the man who drove him was in his secret, and put the priest on the track. The difficulties in my case were increased by the distance at which the first mortgagee lived, and the fact that it was a lady who held the claim as a portion of her husband's estates. She must be corresponded with in the slow process of the mail. A telegram would have quickened her fears and her covetousness. She must consult her compadre and all her family. The least conception that it was being bought for the Protestants would have probably cut off all negotiations at the start, or would certainly have leaked out and cut them off very soon thereafter.

The lessee was left out of the transaction. His case would have to be managed after the purchase was completed. The other three parties were slowly and softly approached, and after nearly three months from the date of that ten minutes' visit, and the issuing thereupon of the order to secure, if possible, the property, I had the supreme satisfaction of receiving the above telegram at the hot and dusty and desolate San Antonio. Is it any wonder the spot blossomed into beauty? The white dust turned to lilies. The hot sun tempered its blaze seemingly to the most genial warmth. Perhaps this event increased the comeliness of the family, and