1902 - THIS IS THE STRANGE AND REMARKABLE STORY, IN SUBSTANCE, AND LARGELY IN DETAIL, AS NARRATED BY GILES HENRY ANDERTON, JOURNALIST AND AMERICAN TOURIST. I. THE TOURIST LOST IN MIDOCEAN IS MYSTERIOUSLY INTRODUCED INTO INTERMERE, AND MEETS THE FIRST CITIZEN AND OTHER CHIEF OFFICIALS. - THE MISTLETOE. - THE MISTLETOE, staunah, trim and buoyant, steamed aaross the equator under the glare of a midday sun from a fleckless sky, and began to ascend toward the antarctic airule. Three days later we came in sight of a great bank of fog or mist, which stood like a gray wall of stone across the entire horizon, plunged into it and the sun disappeared-disappeared forever to all except one of the gay and aarelesa crew acd passengers. For days, as was shown by the ships ohron ometers, me steamed slowly on our course, surrounded by an inky midnight, instinct with an oppressive and fearsome calm. As we approached the fortieth parallel of south latitude . a remarkable change set in. The deathly calm was suddenly broken by the rush of mighty and boistercus winds, sweeping now from one point of the compass, and then suddenly yeer ing to another, churning up the waters a. nd spinning the Mistletoe round acd round like a top. In the midst of the terror and confusion, heightened by the unheeded coinmands of the officers, a glittering sheeny bolt, like a corruseating column of steel, dropped straight from the zenith, striking the gyrating Mistletoe amidships. There was a deafening report, the air was filled with serpentine lines of flame, followed simultaneously by the dull explosion of the boilers, the hissing of escaping steam, the groaning of cordage and machinery, the lurching of the vessel as the water poured in apparently from a score of openings, a shuddering vibration of all its parts, and then, amid cries and prayers and imprecations, the wrecked vessel shot like a plummet to the bottom. I felt myself being dragged down to the immeasurable watery depths, confused with r0a. ring sounds and oppressed with terrors indescribable and horrible. The descent seemed miles and miles. Then I felt myself slowly rising toward the surface, followed by legions of submarine monsters of grotesque shapes and terrifying aspects. With acuelerated motion I approached the surface and, shooting like a cork above the now calm sea, fortunately fell upon a piece of floating wreckage. Looking upma. rd as I lay upon it, I saw the blue sky and the brilliant stars far overhead. The fierce winds and inky darkness acd bIackness of the night were disappearing beyond the northeastern horizon. I tried to concentra. te my scattered thoughts and piece out the awful catastrophe that had befallen the ship and my companions, but the effort was too great a strain and I ceased to think-perhaps I ceased to exist. I seemed to be passing through a vague twilight of sentient existence. Thought was rudimentary with me, if, indeed, there mere any thoughts. They were mere sensations, perhaps, or impressions imperfectly shaped, but I remember them now as being so delightful, that I prayed, in a feeble may, that I might never be awakened from them. And then gradually the senses of sight, hearing, and full physical and mental existence returned to me. At length I was able to determine that I lay on something like a hammock on the deck of a smoothly gliding ressel. Turning my head flrst to the right and then to the left, I imagined that I was indeed in Paradise, only the reality before me was so infinitely more beautiful than the most vivid poetic descriptions I had ever read of the longed for heaven of end less peace and happiness...