pie in the middle of a meal. That is the way many of the stories about Americans originate: they are made up. I have lived in America considerably more than half a century, and never knew anyone to refer to one horse as a "team," or eat pie in the middle of a meal. . . . There is a young man staying at this hotel who doesn't seem to know much. "I don't believe," said Mr. A. today, "that he is a full shilling." Meaning, "I don't believe he has good sense." This young fellow is a "remittance man;" he has a rich father in England, and receives a remittance every month—he is kept in New Zealand in the hope that he will get killed, or drink himself to death. . . . The officers of small ships, since the big "Titanic" went down, frequently ask travelers: "Well, are you satisfied now that a big ship can sink?" Sailors, like other men, are jealous. . . . A traveling Englishman is never satisfied unless he shows his pajamas all over a ship or hotel. This morning, at 7:20, I left my room to go down on the street for a walk before breakfast. In the hall I found an Englishman, dressed in pajamas only, quietly drinking tea from a tray held by a maid.
Friday, January 31.—At 4:20 this afternoon we
left the Grand Hotel, and went on board the "Maunganui,"
advertised to sail for Sydney at 5. The
Chicago doctor went with us, and said he should be
very lonesome after our departure. He says he intends
to amuse himself by trimming up Mr. A., the gentleman
who lived awhile at Lancaster, Pa. This gentle-
