engagement-book you gave me is already overfilled.

We were very much amused at the collection of newspaper cuttings you
sent us. Johan thought the one describing him as "a massive blonde of
magnificent proportions, whose pure heart and clean hands had won all
hearts in Washington" [previous to winning mine], was much too
personal. "The medals [his prized decorations] were not his fault, and
should not be laid up against him; and as for the gold key which he
wears on his back, it is considered a great honor, as few Danes have
had it conferred on them, being, as it is, the key of the king's own
bedchamber, and giving the wearer the privilege of entering there when
he likes."

Another one which amused us says "the bride is to be congratulated on
having annexed as fine a specimen of a viking as any one could desire,
and, although she has not secured a golden crown for her marble brow,
she has secured a name that ought to be good for a '_three-bagger_' on
any diamond, and that just to see it written on a hotel register makes
any hotel clerk faint." Johan asked me what a "three-bagger" was, but I
could not tell him. Then the worst one! "Mr. de Hegermann is envoy
extraordinary and parson to his Danish 'nibs.'" Johan was horrified at
this _lèse majesté_. We looked the word "nibs" out in the dictionary,
only to find that in cribbage "nibs" means the knave of trumps. This
made matters worse; to call his sovereign a knave--even of
trumps--seemed too disrespectful.

It was very nice of Norris, your Cambridge grocer, to placard the fruit
in his shop window in our honor. "Lindencrone beauties" and "the Danish
pair" show a certain amount of humor which ought to be applauded. Such
a pun goes to my heart. I hope you encouraged him by buying them all