all the news of the
locality. Each of these has a "society" column. Nothing is more amusing
than to read of the society doings in these little towns. "Miss Brown is
visiting Miss Smith." "Miss Smith had tea with Miss Robinson yesterday."
When Miss Brown, or Miss Smith, or Miss Robinson has given a party, the
names of all the guests are inserted as well as what they had for
dinner, or for supper, as the case may be. So I take it for granted that
when anybody gives a party, a ball, a dinner, a reporter receives an
invitation to describe the party in the next issue of the paper.

* * * * *

At nine o'clock this evening, I left Sarnia, on the frontier of Canada,
to cross the river and pass into the United States. The train left the
town, and, on arriving on the bank of the River St. Clair, was divided
into two sections which were run on board the ferry-boat and made the
crossing side by side. The passage across the river occupied about
twenty minutes. On arriving at the other bank, at Port Huron, in the
State of Michigan, the train left the boat in the same fashion as it had
gone on board, the two parts were coupled together, and the journey on
_terra firma_ was smoothly resumed.

There is something fascinating about crossing a river at night, and I
had promised myself some agreeable moments on board the ferry-boat, from
which I should be able to see Port Huron lit up with twinkling lights. I
was also curious to watch the train boarding the boat. But, alas, I had
reckoned without my host. Instead of star-gazing and _reverie_, there
was in store for me a "bad quarter of an hour."

No sooner had the train boarded the ferry-boat than there came to the
door of the parlor car a surly-looking, ill-mannered creature, who
roughly bade me come to the baggage van, in the other section of the
train, and open my trunks for him to inspect.

As soon as I had complied, he went down on his knees among my baggage,
and it was plain to see that he meant business.

The first thing he took out was a suit of clothes, which he threw on the
dirty floor of the van.

"Have these been worn?" he said.

"They have," I replied.

Then he took out a blue jacket which I used to cross the Atlantic.

[Illustration: "HAVE YOU WORN THIS?"]

"Have you worn this?"

"Yes, for the last two years."

"Is that all?" he said, with a low sardonic grin.

My trunk was the only one he had to examine, as I was the only passe