country where they are so complete and so neat in their landscape that
they even sod the cuts. It is like going through a terraced garden."

It may be that the phrase she used was academic, but I am at least
reasonable in thinking that the average American would know what she
meant. Not one of those eight English people caught even the shadow of
her meaning, and when she explained what she meant by "sod your cuts,"
they said that she meant "turf your cuttings." She replied that
"cutting" with us was a greenhouse term and meant a part clipped from a
plant or a tree. They said the word "cut" meant a cut of beef or
mutton, to which she retorted that we might also use the term "cut" in a
butcher shop, but when travelling in a hill country and looking out of
the train window it meant the mountain cut. They said they never heard
of the word sod, except used as a noun. She replied that she never heard
the word "turf" used as a verb. We continued in an amiable wrangle which
finally brought out the fact which even the most obstinate of them was
obliged to admit, and that is that when traced to its proper root, the
Americans speak purer English than the English.

House-boat hospitality we discovered to be conducted on a very irregular
plan, for it appeared that the casual afternoon caller always meant tea
and sometimes dinner. This is all very well if the people happen to be
agreeable and the food holds out, but even I, the least conservative of
the three women, am conservative about invitations to guests, nothing
being more offensive to me than to be politely forced into a dinner
invitation to people I don't want. Another thing, it kept us constantly
scurrying for more to eat, as house-boat provisions are all furnished
by firms in town, and house-boat owners are expected to let the
purveyors know beforehand how many guests to provide for at each meal.