re you, they have enjoyed it as much as if they had
been to a circus."

I have often wondered where I found the courage to undertake what I had
never attempted before, and whence came the capacity which saved me from
discomfiture. I can only imagine that I took my colour from my
surroundings, and that where everybody was going ahead, I could not lag
behind. I certainly never knew what I really was, till I had been to
America. The gentleman at the schools was right; it was clear to me: I
was a circus-horse, and America the man with the whip in the middle of
the arena. As he urged me on I could clear bars and barriers as never
before; the people all around, I knew, were keen judges of horseflesh,
and could not be hoodwinked. I must do my best. And then, when
sympathetic friends applauded, it was an easy matter to march boldly
along on two legs and to hold up my head with the best; my nostrils
dilated, and I felt as proud as a man. And when, to reward me, some of
the loveliest women of the great Republic patted me on the back and fed
me with sweets and kind words, I reciprocated with all my heart, and
felt as if I could once for all shake off the yoke of the slow-coaches
in the old countries, and start afresh on life's big race in the new
one.

* * * * *

I was, from the first, much struck by the cordiality with which a
stranger is received. Hospitality is a virtue inherited by the American
from his ancestors, a tradition handed down to him. It has not yet had
time to become blunted, as it has with us much visited Europeans. One
can quite fancy how delighted the first settlers must have been to
welcome friends from the old country and to get the latest news, to say
nothing of the latest fashions, from home. Now, to be sure, messages get
from house to house before they are cabled (as the clocks go); and as
for the fashions, it takes a fleet to convey them across the seas. Who
can tell how much horse-power is annually needed to convey the creations
of a Worth or a Virot to those I would call the loveliest women in the
world, were I not afraid of being misunderstood by other sets of
loveliest women nearer home. Anyway I do not hesitate to assert that the
best productions of the great Parisians become worthier of the fair sex
for which they are conceived, by being subjected to the chastening
influence of the American lady's taste, and to the subtle touches which
she knows how to add.

But ho