seemed to find anything unseemly in this official freedom with the
name of their Creator. On a British steamer there would almost
certainly have been some sturdy Puritan to pull down the notice. One
of the best newspaper accounts of the Republican convention that
nominated Mr. J.G. Blaine for President in 1884 began as follows: "Now
a man of God, with a bald head, calls the Deity down into the _mêlée_
and bids him make the candidate the right one and induce the people to
elect him in November." If I here mention the newspaper head-line
(apropos of a hanging) "Jerked to Jesus," it is mainly to note that M.
Blouët saw it in 1888 and M. Bourget also purports to have seen it in
1894. Surely the American journalist has a fatal facility of
repetition or--?

American humour has no reverence for those in high position or
authority. An American will say of his chief executive, "Yes, the
President has a great deal of taste--and all of it bad." A current
piece of doggerel when I was in Washington ran thus:

"Benny runs the White House,
Levi keeps a bar,
Johnny runs a Sunday School--
And, damme, there you are!"

The gentlemen named are the then President, Mr. Harrison; the
Vice-President, Mr. Morton, who was owner or part owner of one of the
large Washington hotels; and Mr. Wanamaker, Postmaster General, well
known as "an earnest Christian worker."

I have seen even the sacred Declaration of Independence imitated, both
in wording and in external form, as the advertisement of a hotel.