ave
no waiting in between the courses to assist digestion, and almost before
they have swallowed their food they freeze it with draughts of iced
water.

At this hotel in New York there lived for some years an Italian singer,
who was a great favourite in the city, and whose horror of iced water
was a terror to all the waiters. They knew that it was as much as their
lives were worth, and certainly as much as the glass was worth, to set a
drink of this concoction before him. If any new or forgetful waiter
offered the obnoxious liquid to the foreigner, it was soon thrown at his
head or to the other end of the room. Americans seldom show their
feelings, but anything they resent they will harbour in their minds, and
never forget.

In due course this singer died. The weather was hot at the time, and the
body in the shell was surrounded by ice until the time came to carry it
out of the hotel. As it passed through the hall the manager, who had had
many and many an upbraiding from the excitable Italian after the latter
had been proffered the hateful iced water, rushed out and triumphantly
exclaimed:

"'Guess, sir, you've got plenty of ice now, whether you like it or
not!'"

I was told that kindness would be showered upon me in America. I lived
in a perfect blizzard of hospitality, the force of which was too much
for me to stand up against. The poet asks, "What's in a name?" I don't
know, I'm sure, but I know what's not in a name, and that's something by
which you can identify the owner of it.

You are introduced to a man, his name being given you as Mr. James B.
Brown. You could never forget his face as long as you live, but there is
nothing in the name of James B. Brown to fix it in your memory. Indians
are more practical--they adopt nicknames. Amongst them the gentleman in
question would probably be known as "Cherrybeak," "Bleary Eye," or some
such descriptive cognomen.

I felt the want of this common-sense system when in America terribly.
While there I lived at the highest pressure of hospitality. Breakfasts,
luncheons, teas, dinners, suppers, receptions and all sorts of
gatherings, sometimes two or three of them in one day. At each of them I
was introduced to most interesting people, names perfectly familiar to
me but faces unknown. I was bewildered beyond description. I made many
friends, and as a natural consequence I made many blunders. The worst
of these latter I really must record, and pray that should this
conf