resting on the hotel verandah, when she heard two American ladies
talking. "My dear," said one of them, "you ought to have come up to
that Garrison Church. I tell you, it was a right smart, snappy, dandy
little Service, with a Colonel in full uniform reading selections from
the Bible from a gilt eagle."

Amongst other interesting people I saw a good deal of at that time in
Bermuda was "Mark Twain," who had, however, begun to fail, and that
most cultivated and delightful of men, the late William Dean Howells.
I twice met at luncheon a gentleman who, I was told, might possibly be
adopted as Democratic Candidate for the Presidency of the United
States. His name was Dr. Woodrow Wilson.

Many country houses in Bermuda have pieces of old Chippendale and
French furniture in them, as well as fine specimens of old French and
Spanish silver. I entirely discredit the malicious rumours I have
heard about the origin of these treasures. All male Bermudians were
seafaring folk in the eighteenth century, and ill-natured people hint
that these intrepid mariners, not content with their legitimate
trading profits, were occasionally not averse to--a little maritime
enterprise. These scandalmongers insinuate that in addition to the
British Ensign under which they sailed, another flag of a duskier hue
was kept in a convenient locker, and was occasionally hoisted when the
owner felt inclined to indulge his tastes as a collector of works of
art, or to act as a Marine Agent. I do not believe one word of it, and
emphatically decline to associate such kindly people with such dubious
proceedings, even if a hundred and fifty years have elapsed since
then.

These merchant-traders conducted their affairs on the most patriarchal