of the boiled limbs
of those admirable adjuncts of a Northern diet, but I had never
expected to pose as one in the flesh. The most lasting impression
which the ceremony left on my mind is of my volunteer summer
secretary, who stood almost on my toes as he delivered the valedictory
address of his class. I still see his gradually wilting, boiled
collar, and the tiny rivulet which trickled down his neck as he warmed
to his subject. We were the best of friends, but I felt that glow of
semi-satisfaction that comes to the man who finds that he is no longer
the only one seasick on board.

About this time King Edward most graciously presented me, as one of
his birthday honours, with a Companionship in the Order of St. Michael
and St. George--most useful persons for any man to have as companions,
especially in a work like ours, both being famous for downing dragons
and devils. My American friends immediately knighted me. The papers
and magazines knighted me in both the United States and Canada. But
that got me into trouble, for only kings can make pawns into knights,
and I had to appeal several times to the Associated Press to save
myself being dubbed _poseur_. I have protested at meetings when the
chairman has knighted me; at banquets, when the master of ceremonies
has knighted me. I gave it up lest accusation should arise against me,
when at a semi-religious meeting I uttered a feeble protest against
the title to which I have no right, and my introducer merely repeated
it the more firmly, informing the audience meanwhile that I was "too
modest to use it."

There was attached to the conferring of the Order one elective
latitude--it could either be sent out or wait till I returned to
England and attended a levee with the other recipients. I had a great
desire to see the King, and, though it meant a year's waiting, I
requested to be allowed to do so. This not only was most courteously
granted, but also the permission to let my presence in England be
known to the Hereditary Grand Chamberlain, and the King would give me
a private audience. When the day arrived, I repaired to Buckingham
Palace, where I waited for an hour in the reception room in company
with a small, stout clergyman who was very affable. I learned later
that he was the Archbishop of Canterbury, who was carrying a fat Bible
from Boston, England, I believe, to be presented to the United States
of America.

At last Sir Frederick Treves, who kindly acted as my intr