the whole of it, and it ran something in this
way:--"Gentlemen--It's very good of you to give me this dinner and to
tell me all these pretty-things, but what I want you to understand--the
fact is, what we want and what we ought to get at once, is a navy--more
ships--lots of 'em--"

Then we howled the top of the roof off, and I for one fell in love with
Carlin on the spot. Wallah! He was a man.

The prince among merchants bid me take no heed to the warlike sentiments
of some of the old generals.

"The sky-rockets are thrown in for effect," quoth he, "and whenever we
get on our hind legs we always express a desire to chaw up England. It's
a sort of family affair."

And, indeed, when you come to think of it, there is no other country for
the American public speaker to trample upon.

France has Germany; we have Russia; for Italy Austria is provided; and
the humblest Pathan possesses an ancestral enemy.

Only America stands out of the racket, and therefore to be in fashion
makes a sand-bag of the mother country, and hangs her when occasion
requires.

"The chain of fortresses" man, a fascinating talker, explained to me
after the affair that he was compelled to blow off steam. Everybody
expected it.

When we had chanted "The Star Spangled Banner" not more than eight
times, we adjourned. America is a very great country, but it is not
yet heaven, with electric lights and plush fittings, as the speakers
professed to believe. My listening mind went back to the politicians
in the saloon, who wasted no time in talking about freedom, but quietly
made arrangements to impose their will on the citizens.

"The judge is a great man, but give thy presents to the clerk," as the
proverb saith.

And what more remains to tell? I cannot write connectedly, because I
am in love with all those girls aforesaid, and some others who do not
appear in the invoice. The typewriter is an institution of which the
comic papers make much capital, but she is vastly convenient. She and a
companion rent a room in a business quarter, and, aided by a typewriting
machine, copy MSS. at the rate of six annas a page. Only a woman can
operate a typewriting machine, because she has served apprenticeship to
the sewing machine. She can earn as much as one hundred dollars a
month, and professes to regard this form of bread-winning as her natural
destiny. But, oh! how she hates it in her heart of hearts! When I had
got over the surprise of doing business with