he reception hall which was already
filled with a throng of most distinguished guests running from Sir
Walter Besant, the president of the Authors' Society, to Lord Rosebery,
who was to be one of the speakers. Zangwill, who seemed to be known of
everybody, kept me in hand, introducing me to many of the writers, and
kind Sir Walter said, "As an American over-seas member your seat is at
the speakers' table"--an honor which I accepted with a swift realization
that it was made possible by the new coat and vest I presented to the
world.

Zangwill parted with me, smilingly. "I am but one of lower orders," said
he, "but I shall have an eye to you during dinner."

My left-hand neighbor at the table was a short, gray, gloomy individual
whose name I failed to catch, but the man on my right was Henry Norman,
of the _London Chronicle_, and after we had established friendly
relations I leaned to him and whispered, "Who is the self-absorbed,
gloomy chieftain on my left?"

"That," said he, "is Henry M. Stanley."

"What!" I exclaimed, "not Henry M. Stanley of Africa?"

"Yes, Stanley of Uganda."

It seemed a pity to sit in silence beside this great explorer, who had
been one of my boyish heroes, and I decided to break the ice of his
reserve in some way. Turning to him suddenly I asked, "Sir Henry, how do
you pronounce the name of that poisonous African fly--is it Teetsie or
Tettsie?"

He brightened up at once. I was not so great a bore as he feared. After
he had given me a great deal of information about this fly, and the
sleeping sickness, I asked him what he thought of the future of the
continent, to which he responded with growing geniality. We were off!

After a proper interval I volunteered some valuable data concerning the
mosquitoes and flies I had encountered on my recent trip into the
wilderness of British Columbia. He became interested in me. "Oh! You've
been to the Klondike!"

This quite broke down his wall. Thereafter he listened respectfully to
all that I could tell him of the black flies, the huge caribou flies,
the orange-colored flies, and the mosquitoes who worked in two shifts
(the little gray ones in hot sunlight, the big black ones at night), and
by the time the speaking began we were on the friendliest terms. "What a
bore these orators are!" I said, and in this judgment he instantly
agreed.

Sitting there in the faces of hundreds of English authors, I achieved a
peaceful satisfaction with my outfit. A s