my dinner last
night surrounded by English people. With brain still pulsing with the
motion of the sea, I went to my bed, rejoicing to feel around me the
solid stone walls of this small but ancient hotel."

After a long walk in search of my publishers I was repaid by finding
several letters awaiting me, and among them was one from Zangwill, who
wrote, "Come at once to my house. I have a message for you."

His address was almost as quaint in my ear as that of Sir Walter Besant,
which was Frognals End--or something like it, but I found it at last on
the way to 'Ampstead 'Eath. The house was a modest one but his study was
made cheery by a real fire of "coals," and many books.

He greeted me heartily and said, "I have an invitation for you to the
Authors' Society Dinner which comes next week. It will be what you would
call 'a big round-up' and you can't afford to miss it. You must go at
once and order that evening suit."

The idea of the dinner allured me but I shuffled, "Can't I go as I am?"

"Certainly not. It is a full-dress affair."

I argued, "But George Bernard Shaw is reported to be without the dress
suit."

"Yes," admitted Zangwill, "Shaw goes everywhere in tweeds, but then he
is Shaw, and can afford to do as he pleases. You will not see him at
this dinner. He seldom goes to such functions."

With a shudder I plunged. "I'll do it! If I must surrender, let it be on
a grand occasion like this. I am in your hands."

Zangwill was highly amused. "We will go at once. That suit must be ready
for the dinner which comes on Thursday. There's not a moment to spare.
The cow-boy must be tamed."

My hesitation may seem comical to my reader as it did to Zangwill, but I
really stood in deep dread of the change. The thought of bulging shirt
fronts, standing collars, varnished shoes and white ties appalled me.
With especial hatred and timidity I approached the cylindrical hat,
which was so wide a departure from my sombrero.--Nevertheless decision
had been taken out of my hands! With wry face I followed my guide.

In most unholy glee Zangwill stood looking on whilst I was being
measured. "This is the beginning of your moral debacle," said he. "What
will they say of you in Wisconsin, when they hear of your appearance at
an English dinner wearing 'the livery of the oppressor'?"

I made no reply to these questions, but I felt like the traitor he
reported me to be.

However, being in so far I decided to go clean through. I