morning I saw this sign: "Mrs. Jew, private hotel." Here is another sign I saw: "Jerusalem & Son, jewelers and New Zealand green-stone merchants." While waiting in the barber shop I saw this advertisement in a newspaper: "Wanted—A Rabbiter; also a saw doctor. Apply to F. P. Welch, Masterton.". . . My friend who lived for a time in Lancaster, Pa., and who so greatly admires the "Pennsylvania Dutch," told of a funny experience this morning. When he first landed in the United States he went into a barber shop, to be shaved. The barber asked him if he wanted a shampoo. The New-Zealander, thinking that this was merely a politeness, said he did. Then the barber asked him if he would have a face massage, and the New-Zealander accepted that offer, as well as several others, all the while thinking of the politeness of the American barbers. Finally, when the barber presented his bill for $2.90, there was a row, and the New-Zealander denounced us all as robbers. . . . This New-Zealander, whom I shall call Mr. A., was very indignant when I told him about the snoring man on the ship, and has been telling ever since what should be done to a man who travels about to disturb his fellow-men. "A man who snores," said Mr. A., "should remain at home." Mr. A. is a nervous man himself, and believes that a snoring man should in some way be prohibited. I noticed that Dr. Beeson, my friend from Chicago, did not fully accept Mr. A.'s opinion, and, when we are alone, the Doctor is disposed to rake Mr. A. over the coals. This has convinced me that the Doctor is a snoring man, so at nearly every meal I induce Mr. A. to abuse the man who is so impolite as
