chaw up England. It's a sort of family affair."

And, indeed, when you come to think of it, there is no other
country for the American public speaker to trample upon.

France has Germany; we have Russia; for Italy Austria is
provided; and the humblest Pathan possesses an ancestral enemy.

Only America stands out of the racket, and therefore to be in
fashion makes a sand-bag of the mother country, and hangs her
when occasion requires.

"The chain of fortresses" man, a fascinating talker, explained to
me after the affair that he was compelled to blow off steam.
Everybody expected it.

When we had chanted "The Star Spangled Banner" not more than
eight times, we adjourned. America is a very great country, but
it is not yet heaven, with electric lights and plush fittings, as
the speakers professed to believe. My listening mind went back
to the politicians in the saloon, who wasted no time in talking
about freedom, but quietly made arrangements to impose their will
on the citizens.

"The judge is a great man, but give thy presents to the clerk,"
as the proverb saith.

And what more remains to tell? I cannot write connectedly,
because I am in love with all those girls aforesaid, and some
others who do not appear in the invoice. The typewriter is an