arther he should secure an elocutionist
and accustom himself to large halls, otherwise his tour would be
a disappointment.

He gave me an amusing account of his instructor selecting
Chickering Hall, where he had failed, and making him repeat his
lecture, while the instructor kept a progressive movement farther
and farther from the stage until he reached the rear seats, when
he said he was satisfied. It is a tribute to the versatility of
this great author that he learned his lesson so well that his
subsequent lectures in different parts of the country were very
successful.

Once Mr. Arnold said to me: "The lectures which I have prepared
are for university audiences, to which I am accustomed. I have
asked my American manager to put me only in university towns, but
I wish you would look over my engagements."

Having done this, I remarked: "Managers are looking for large
and profitable audiences. There is no university or college in
any of these towns, though one of them has an inebriate home and
another an insane asylum. However, both of these cities have
a cultured population. Your noisiest and probably most appreciative
audience will be at the one which is a large railroad terminal.
Our railroad people are up-to-date."

I saw Mr. Arnold on his return from his tour. The description
he gave of his adventures was very picturesque and the income
had been exceedingly satisfactory and beyond expectation.

Describing the peculiarities of the chairmen who introduced him,
he mentioned one of them who said: "Ladies and gentlemen, next
week we will have in our course the most famous magician there
is in the world, and the week after, I am happy to say, we shall
be honored by the presence of a great opera-singer, a wonderful
artist. For this evening it is my pleasure to introduce to you
that distinguished English journalist Mr. Edwin Arnold." Mr. Arnold
began his lecture with a vigorous denial that he was Edwin Arnold,
whom I judged he did not consider in his class.

Mr. Arnold received in New York and in the larger cities which
he visited the highest social attention from the leading families.
I met him several times and found that he never could be reconciled
to our two most famous dishes--terrapin and canvasback duck--the
duck nearly raw. He said indignantly to one hostess, who chided
him for his neglect of the canvasback: "Madam, when your ancestors
left England two hundred and fifty years ago, the English