ike a bee-hive of activity, with its animated streets,
its electric cars. Dear old Europe! With the exception of a few large
cities, the cars are still drawn by horses, like in the time of
Sesostris and Nebuchadnezzar.

* * * * *

On arriving at the station a man took hold of my bag and asked to take
care of it until the arrival of the train. I do not know whether he
belonged to the hotel where I spent the night, or to the railroad
company. Whatever he was, I felt grateful for this wonderful show of
courtesy.

"I heard you last night at the Opera House," he said to me.

"Why, were you at the lecture?"

"Yes, sir, and I greatly enjoyed it."

"Well, why didn't you laugh sooner?" I said.

"I wanted to very much!"

"Why didn't you?"

[Illustration: "I WAS AT YOUR LECTURE LAST NIGHT."]

"Well, sir, I couldn't very well laugh before the rest."

"Why didn't you give the signal?"

"You see, sir," he said, "we are in Connecticut."

"Is laughter prohibited by the Statute Book in Connecticut?" I remarked.

"No, sir, but if you all laugh at the same time, then----"

"I see, nobody can tell who is the real criminal."

The train arrived. I shook hands with my friend, after offering him half
a dollar for holding my bag--which he refused--and went on board.

In the parlor car, I met my kind friend Colonel Charles H. Taylor,
editor of that very successful paper, the Boston _Globe_. We had
luncheon together in the dining car, and time passed delightfully in his
company till we reached the Grand Central station, New York, when we
parted. He was kind enough to make me promise to look him up in Boston
in a fortnight's time, when I make my second appearance in the City of
Culture.

[Illustration]

CHAPTER VII.

A TEMPTING OFFER--THE THURSDAY CLUB--BILL NYE--VISIT TO YOUNG LADIES'
SCHOOLS--THE PLAYERS' CLUB.

_New York, January 9._

On returning here, I found a most curious letter awaiting me. I must
tell you that in Boston, last Monday, I made the following remarks in my
lecture:

"The American is, I believe, on the road to the possession of all that
can contribute to the well-being and success of a nation, but he seems
to me to have missed the path that leads to real happiness. To live in a
whirl is not to live well. The little French shopkeeper who locks his
shop-door from half-past one, so as not to be disturbed while he is
having his dinner with his wife and f