boots, and the weather-beaten jacket all combine to
make up a picturesque figure, and I sketched what seemed to me to be the
figure of the man who was coming on board to guide us to the Hook of
Sandy. As the little vessel approaches us the intervening sail hides
from my view the figure of the one man I want to see. A boat is lowered
from the side of the pilot boat, into which two sailors descend. Who on
earth is this who steps in after them and takes the rudder lines? He
sports a top hat, kid gloves, and patent shoes. Is he a commercial
traveller? He looks it. He is rowed to the side of the steamer, and then
the fun begins. A rope ladder is lowered from the deck, which is
immediately clutched by one of the oarsmen in the boat, and this
commonplace commercial scrambles towards it. Just then a wave breaks
over him, and more like a drowned excursionist than an American pilot
this little man is hauled on board.

I think a great deal of the Atlantic, but I am sorely disappointed with
the American pilot.

The Americans pride themselves upon their independence, and surely a
more independent race never existed. The brow-beaten Britisher is not
long in finding this out, and in my case it was most clearly
demonstrated to me at the first stoppage of the steamer after leaving
Queenstown. After our headlong race across the broad Atlantic, after
every nut and screw in the vessel has been strained to save every
particle of time, and every moment watched and calculated, here at the
mouth of the Hudson, in sight of the colossal statue of Liberty, we are
kept waiting under a broiling sun on a beautiful day for an
unconscionable time whilst forsooth the health officer or his
subordinate is enjoying his lunch. Fancy 1,700 foreigners being kept
waiting because a paid official--paid by the shipowners of
England--wishes to satisfy his selfish greediness!

I watched for this gentleman as he crawled on board, having come across
eventually from his riparian villa. There were no apologies (Americans
never apologise). I don't know the gentleman's name, but here I show you
his face. His check I have described already.

Now that I have touched on America itself, I wish it to be understood
that it is not my intention to look out for and comment upon the faults
of our American cousins, but rather in describing my all too brief
visits to a charming people in a charming country to deal with their
merits. But it is proverbial that first impressions