ca could be made. I had my
private car--that was a rare thing for me to be thinking of. And,
indeed, it was as comfortable as anyone made me think it could be.
There was a real bedroom--I never slept in a berth, but in a brass
bed, just as saft and comfortable as ever I could ha' known in ma own
wee hoose at hame. Then there was a sitting room, as nice and hamely
as you please, where I could rest and crack, whiles we were waiting in
a station, wi' friends wha came callin'.

I wasna dependent on hotels at all, after the way I'd been led to fear
them. It was only in the great cities, where we stayed a week or mair,
that I left the car and stopped in a hotel. And even then it was mair
because the yards, where the car would wait, would be noisy, and would
be far awa' frae the theatre, than because the hotel was mair
comfortable, that we abandoned the car.

Our own cook travelled wi' us. I'm a great hand for Scottish cooking.
Mrs. Lauder will bake me a scone, noo and then, no matter whaur we
are. And the parritch and a' the other Scottish dishes tickle my
palate something grand. Still it was a revelation to me, the way that
negro cooked for us! Things I'd never heard of he'd be sending to the
table each day, and when I'd see him and tell him that I liked
something special he'd made, it was a treat to see his white teeth
shining oot o' his black face.

I love to sit behind the train, on the observation platform, while I'm
travelling through America. It's grand scenery--and there's sae much
of it. It's a wondrous sicht to see the sun rise in the desert. It
puts me in mind o' the moors at home, wi' the rosy sheen of the dawn
on the purple heather, but it's different.

There's no folk i' the world more hospitable than Americans. And
there's no folk prouder of their hames, and more devoted to them.
That's a thing to warm the cockles of a Scots heart. I like folk who
aren't ashamed to let others know the way they feel. An Englishman's
likely to think it's indelicate to betray his feelings. We Scots dinna
wear our hearts upon our sleeves, precisely, but we do love our hame,
and we're aye fond o' talking about it when we're far awa'.

In Canada, especially, I always found Scots everywhere I went. They'd
come to the theatre, whiles I was there; nearly every nicht I'd hear
the gude Scots talk in my dressing room after my turn. There'd be
dinners they'd gie me--luncheons, as a rule, rather, syne my time was
ta'en up sae that I co