the _creme on creme_--excuse French once more--rolled
smoothly through the city in carriages, with royalty leading the way, a
regiment of trainers leading him, and a band of music leading the whole.

I saw the whole glorious procession. From block to block I flitted, like
some aspiring bird on the crest of a wave. My heart was full, my eyes
fixed on one object--that tall, noble figure, with a blue watered silk
scarf across his royal bosom, and a half-moon hat, with dipping points,
gracefully lifted from his head. He must have been dazzled; he must have
been impressed by this proof that republics scorn monarchies and trample
them under foot.

I flitted onward through the crowd, waving my handkerchief from a
doorstep now and then. That handkerchief the idol of this august
occasion seemed to follow eagerly with his eyes, as a sort of beacon
light which kindred sympathy impelled him to recognize, for wherever I
went he lifted that half-moon hat from his royal brow and smiled. I felt
this compliment to the depths of my soul--it thrilled me.

When I lifted myself out of the skim milk, and flowed in with the cream
of cream on that stand in Union Square with my cousin and the _elite_ of
society, he saw me again and recognized me once more, which irritated my
cousin's jealousy a little, for she insisted that he lifted his black
half-moon to the whole of us. But I know!

I watched the carriage that bore him with a blushing cheek and a beating
heart. There was General Dix, a real nice-looking old gentleman, sitting
in front of him; there was Catacazy, the ambassador of all Russia, also
a nice gentleman as you want to see, with _his_ hat off, a-bowing and
a-bowing. We flung up our handkerchiefs--we clapped our hands.

The Clarendon Hotel stands near one corner of the Union Square; it has a
skimpy piazza in front made of iron, and I've seen bigger hotels anyhow.
But it is considered tip-top, and is always brimming over with the cream
of cream. That is why Mr. Catacazy took my Grand Duke there. There was
such a crowd of folks and trainers that I lost sight of him. By and by
out he came into the piazza, and stood right before our aristocratic
stand, which was fringed round with red cloth, and over which the
star-spangled banner waved itself meekly to the nest of black eagles
that streamed out over that noble scion of all the Russias.

I could not see _him_ plainly, as my heart panted to, so I borrowed my
cousin's glass--a little