few too many liberties in the land of the free. In fact, I
believe he is much a youth of my own kind with similar
admiration for baccarat and good cellars. His father must return
at once, and has decided (the cub's native heath and friends
being too wild) to leave him in charge of a proper guide,
philosopher, courier, chaplain, and friend, if such can be
found, the same required to travel with the cub and keep him out
of mischief. I thought of your letter directly, and I have given
you the most tremendous recommendation--part of it quite true,
I suspect, though I am not a judge of learning. I explained,
however, that you are a master of languages, of elegant though
subdued deportment, and I extolled at length your saintly
habits. Altogether, I fear there may have been too much of the
virtuoso in my interpretation of you; few would have recognized
from it the gentleman who closed a table at Monte Carlo and
afterwards was closed himself in the handsome and spectacular
fashion I remember with both delight and regret. Briefly, I lied
like a master. He almost had me in the matter of your age; it
was important that you should be middle-aged. I swore that you
were at least thirty-eight, but, owing to exemplary habits,
looked very much younger. The cub himself is twenty-four.

"Hence, if you are really serious and determined not to appeal
to your people, call at once upon Mr. Lambert R. Poor, of the
Hotel d'Iena. He is the father, and the cub is with him. The
elder Yankee is primed with my praises of you, and must engage
someone at once, as he sails in a day or two. Go--with my
blessing, an air of piety, and as much age as you can assume.
When the father has departed, throw the cub into the Seine, but
preserve his pocket-book, and we shall have another go at those