bare arms and blankets over their shoulders. They sat in a semicircle
around Mr. Schurz. After Mr. Schurz had heard what the interpreter had
to say he and the other members of the committee (they call them
"undershirts") talked together for a while, and Mr. Schurz said, "I
cannot accept," which was translated to the chief, who looked more
sullen and treacherous than before. Then there was a burst of wild
Indian, and the chief held forth in a deep bass voice, I fancy giving
pieces of his mind to Mr. Schurz, which were translated in a milder
form. Mrs. Lawrence, who looks at everything in a rosy, sentimental
light, thought they looked high-spirited and noble. I, who am prosaic
to my finger-tips, thought they looked conceited, brutal, and
obstinate. They all sat with their tomahawks laid by the side of their
chairs. The chief was not insensible to the beauty of Miss Chapman, and
sat behind his outspread fingers, gazing at her and her jewelry. We
were glad to get away from the barbarous-looking people. All the same,
the interview was very interesting.

* * * * *

General and Mrs. Albert Meyer gave a dinner in honor of the President
and Mrs. Hayes, to which some diplomats were invited. You know Mr.
Meyer is the man called "Old Prob," because he tells one beforehand
what weather one can expect for the next picnic.

This was the first dinner that the Presidential couple had gone to, and
we were a little curious to see how it would be managed. As neither Mr.
nor Mrs. Hayes drinks wine, they were served all the different known
brands of mineral waters, milk, and tea. But the others got wine. Mr.
Meyer was very funny when he took up his glass, looked at it
critically, and said, "I recommend this vintage." The President did not
seem to mind these _plaisanteries_. We were curious to see what they
would do when _punch a la Romaine_, which stood on the menu in a little
paragraph by itself, would be served. It was a rather strong punch (too
strong for any of the diplomats) and the glasses were deep, but they
seemed to enjoy this glimpse into the depths of perdition and did not
leave a mouthful. Taking it, you see, with a spoon made a difference.

The Lesseps were among the guests. There are thirteen little Lesseps
somewhere; only one daughter is with them. Monsieur Lesseps is
twenty-five years older than Madame, if not more. When the three came
in the _salon_, young Miss Bayard said, "The girl is tak