bought a white
tie, some high collars, two pairs of gloves and a folding opera hat. I
could not bring myself to the point of wearing a high hat in the day
time (that was almost too much of a change from my broad brim), although
my Prince Albert Frock, which I wore morning, noon, and night, was in
conformity with English custom. Even the clerks were so attired.

Meanwhile, Zangwill's study was the only warm place in London--so far as
I knew. His glowing fire of hard coal was a powerful lure, and I was
often there, reacting to the warmth of his rug like a chilled insect. On
his hearth I thawed into something like good humor, and with his
knowledge of American steam heat he was fitted to understand my vocal
delight.

From my Strand hotel I set out each morning, riding about the city on
the tops of buses and in this way soon got "the lay of the land." I was
able to find Piccadilly Circus, Trafalgar Square, the Houses of
Parliament, and a few other landmarks of this character. I spent a week
or more, roaming about the old city, searching out, as most Americans
do, the literary, the historic. I wanted to see the Tower, "The Cheshire
Cheese," and the Law Courts of the Temple. The modern London, which was
almost as ugly as Chicago, did not interest me at all.

Between "try-ons" of the new suit I began to meet the men I was most
interested in. I lunched with James Barrie and called upon Bret Harte,
Sir Walter Besant and Thomas Hardy. Bernard Shaw wrote asking me to
Hindhead for a week-end, and Conan Doyle invited me to see a cricket
match with him--but all these events were subordinate to the authors'
dinner and the accursed suit in which I was about to lose my identity.
"My shirt will 'buckle,' my shoes will hurt my feet, my tie will slip up
over my collar--I shall take cold in my chest----" (As a hardened
diner-out I look back with wonder and a certain incredulity on that
uneasy week.)

These were a few of the fears I entertained, but on the fateful
night--an hour before the time to start out, I assumed the whole
"outfit" and viewed myself as best I could in my half-length mirror and
was gratified to note that I resembled almost any other brown-bearded
man of forty. I couldn't see my feet and legs in the glass, but my
patent leather shoes were illustrious. I began to think I might pull
through without accident.

Zangwill with a mischievous grin on his face, met me at the door of the
hotel at seven, and conducted me to t