to me: "I see we are all English in this hotel." "No," I replied, "we are 

 Americans." "Indeed? Why you speak English remarkably well!" "I 

 ought to, as that's my mother-tongue. What did you expect us to speak, 

 Choctaw, or Chinese, or what?" "Well, no, not exactly, but I didn't 

 know that Americans spoke English!" 



In the railway station at Brussels, where we were waiting to take 

 the train for Paris, I found that I had to have another franc to pay 

 for registering the luggage. I therefore asked an elderly Englishman, 

 whom I had seen, but not spoken to, in our hotel, whether he were 

 going to Paris. He repHed that he was and then I explained my need 

 of a franc and asked him to lend it to me, which he very kindly did. 

 We got into the same compartment and, after some talk, he said : "You 

 are Americans, aren't you?" "Yes." "What part of the country do you 

 come from?" "We live about fifty miles from New York." "Were you 

 ever in Princeton?" "That is our home." "Oh! Indeed! and do you 

 know Dr. Moffat?" "He is one of our nearest neighbours." Then he told 

 us of having travelled in Italy, five years before, with Dr. Moffat and 

 Dr. Duffield, Princeton professors both. By a strange coincidence I had 

 begged the franc from the one man in Brussels who knew any of our 

 friends. 



My first acquaintance with Prussian miUtarism came about in 

 Cologne. On a very narrow sidewalk I had got some little distance ahead 

 of my Mother and turned back just in time to see a Prussian officer in 

 full uniform shoulder her into the gutter. In a fury, I started back to 

 give this gentleman a lesson, but my Mother seized me and begged me 

 not to make a scene. In 1912 the world was scandalized by the be- 

 haviour of the German officers in Saverne (Zabern) in Alsace and 

 the way in which the civil government meekly submitted to it, but to 

 those who knew Germany from the inside there was nothing surpris- 

 ing in the whole affair. It merely let a rather obvious cat out of the bag: 

 namely, that the real government of Germany was the army. 



At the boarding house in Queen Square, where we lived while in 

 London, we met Mr. Roswell Smith, who published or edited the child's 

 magazine, St. Nicholas. He told us one day that he had been to Oxford 

 to see Lewis Carroll and had tried to induce him to write for the maga- 

 zine. Carroll refused, saying: "I am but a seldom writer." In the same 

 house there were a couple of young Americans, who amused us at 

 dinner one day by telling us of their adventures in some small town. 

 When they wished to return to London, they could not find the station 

 and asked several people where the railroad depot was, but nobody 



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