iver to Woodside, where Lord Lyons, the British minister, was the guest
of John F. Scott. Here the band played a third waltz, while hundreds of
cheering men clambered up the terraced slope of the garden. Some one
called for Lord Lyons, and the whole crowd took up the cry, "Lord Lyons!
Lord Lyons!" This soon became "Lyons! Lyons!" although one enthusiastic
Irishman of great vocal power kept crying, "Misther Lynes! Misther
Lynes!"

At this point the leader of the band was instructed to play "God Save
the Queen," as a compliment to the guest of Woodside.

"My heaven!" he whined, "we can't play nothing but three waltzes!"

One of the waltzes was then repeated, and the host of Woodside appeared.
He explained that Lord Lyons had been paying a visit across the river,
but was expected to return at any moment. Just then Lord Lyons himself
came hopping up the steps of the terrace, short, fat, lively, a man of
talent, who soon recovered his breath, and made a speech that elicited
hearty cheers.

The Russian ambassador was the guest of Edward Clark at Apple Hill,
where Fernleigh now stands. The diplomat had retired when the crowd of
serenaders arrived, and was awakened by the blare of the band and loud
demands for "a speech from the great Roosian bear!" The guest was
assisted by his host to crawl through the window over the porch, in
scanty raiment, to speak to the assembled citizens. At the residence of
Jedediah P. Sill, which stands on Chestnut Street next to the Methodist
parsonage, the Italian ambassador received the crowd with bows and
smiles.

Similar visits were paid at the places of sojourn of the other
representatives of foreign powers; but the most uproarious assembly was
that which gathered before the home of George L. Bowne, where the
Spanish ambassador was being entertained. This house stands on the west
side of Chestnut Street, next south of Willow Brook, which here ducks
beneath a culvert to cross the highway.

The representative of the Queen of Spain had only a limited knowledge of
the English language, but what he lacked in vocabulary he made up in
gestures, shrugging his shoulders up to his ears.

"Gentlemen," he began, "you will excuse me from a speech. In my country,
we, the nobility, do not make speeches to the common people."--(Vigorous
cheers greeted this statement, and Judge Turner, who stood near the
speaker, remarked, "True, every word.") "I the English language not well
do speak,"--("Go on, go on;