,
and on the day of the poll, I was much amused to see gentlemen's
carriages being driven to the poll with the coachmen and footmen in
livery, and men in their working dress stepping out to vote. Presently
a Devonshire farmer drove up in his donkey cart. I noticed the donkey
was dressed in the Liberal colours. The farmer recorded his vote, and
came out on the porch, when he was accosted by another farmer, thus:--

"Wull! Farmer Symes, you been an' voted?"

"Yus," he replied.

"Wull, but how's this, I allus thocht ye was a Conservative?"

"So I be."

"But look at yer dunkey ther' all dress'd up in the Liberal colours?"

"Ah!" he said, "I'm a man, but that's an ass."

On returning to London I delivered my letter of introduction to Mr.
William McIlwraith, by whose kindness I met many leading business
people, as well as Lord Randolph Churchill, who appeared to be built up
of fine live wires.

I left England in May, 1886, taking my passage through Cook and Son,
_via_ America. From New York I made trips to Baltimore, Philadelphia,
and Washington. After a week or so I joined the overland train for
Albany, visiting Niagara Falls, and other interesting places in that
locality. Going on to Chicago, I spent a few days visiting the meat
works. Wonderful energy had been shown in re-building the city after the
destructive fire which happened a short time previously. From Denver I
travelled by the narrow gauge "Denver and Rio Grande" line to Utah. Here
I spent a week amongst the Mormans, who are a remarkably industrious and
energetic, as well as peculiar people. One of the elders introduced me
to a daughter by his tenth wife. I had frequent dips in the Salt Lake,
in company with the Mormans, their wives and families. The water of the
lake is so buoyant that one might throw up one's hands and remain
upright. The body would sink only to the chest.

The trains were crowded with men belonging to the grand army of the
Republic who were going to San Francisco, where the 20th anniversary of
peace, after the Civil War was to be held. The Americans were all very
friendly to me. I was invited to join them, and as I was much sunburnt
easily passed as one of the veterans.

I took up my quarters at the Palace Hotel, which occupied about four
acres of ground. I believe it was at that time the largest hotel in the
world. I managed to get a room at four and a-half dollars a day. When I
entered it I could see nothing but "Corfield." There