nsations seem to you strange or
unwonted. The only drawback is that I have not yet discovered how to
unmesmerise myself, although my theory worked splendidly when on board,
so that when I get on shore I feel as if I were still on the sea. I am
always ducking breakers, descending companion ladders, and I roll across
the street as if it were the deck of a liner. Every building I enter
seems to be rocking up and down, up and down, and as on the occasion I
refer to I sat before the knights of the quill to be cross-examined, I
felt as if I were in the cabin of a ship rather than in my own room at
the hotel, and that the books on the table were in reality fiddles to
keep the glasses and other things from falling off.

It is, therefore, not to be wondered at that the next day I find myself
described as "not a well man," although "his face is ruddy," and "his
blue eyes have a tired look and his hand is not so steady as it might
be." I would like to know whose hand would be steady if, after six days
of Atlantic travel, he was landed to find himself suddenly confronted
with eight talented gentlemen, cross-questioning him _ad lib._,
measuring the length of his foot, counting the buttons on his coat, and
the hairs on his head, and if, after his tiring journey, he happened to
yawn, looking to see whether he had false teeth or not!

And then to be handed a bad pen and worse paper, and have to draw
pictures in pen and ink, in the space of five minutes, for the eight
gentlemen who were watching to see "how it's done"! I have sketched
crowned heads on their thrones, bishops in their pulpits, thieves in
their dens, and beauties in their drawing-rooms; but I never felt such
nervousness as I did when I had to caricature myself on the occasion of
my first experience of American interviewing.

In my seeing America in a hurry, I addressed the reporters somewhat in
this fashion:

"I am not disappointed with anything I have seen. I was told that I
would find the worst-paved streets in the world. I have found them. I
was told that I would see unsightly, old-fashioned telegraph-poles
sticking up in the streets. I have seen them. I was told that I would
have to pay a small fortune for my cab from the docks to my hotel. I
have paid it. I was told that a newspaper reporter would ask me what I
thought of America as soon as I landed. I am asked that question by
eight gentlemen of the Press; indeed, I was interrogated upon that point
by the represe