Lord F. (reading). “Reached Washington, the American capital, and went direct to Mrs. ——. Cabman charged me sixteen shillings. When I made a row, butler sent for my host, who, instead of calling a constable, made me pay the fellow, by insisting on paying it himself. Mr. —— is a Senator, and is seen very little about the house, from which I infer the American men are not domestic—presumably, because of their wild life—”
Mrs. W. (with anxiety). Their what?
Lord F. Their wild life,—spending so much of their time on the plains, don’t you know.
Mrs. W. (relieved). Oh! Excuse my misapprehension.
Lord F. (reading). “The daughter is very pretty, which Mrs. —— tells me is unusual in Washington society—as if I could be taken in by such an obvious Dowager puff! (Men all point at Mrs. W. and laugh. Mrs. W. shakes her finger reprovingly.) Miss —— says the Boston girls are plain and thin, due to their living almost wholly on fads, which are very unhealthy.” (Speaking.) I couldn’t find that word in the dictionary.
Steven. Sort of intellectual chewinggum, Lord Ferrol.
Dennis. Yes, and like gum, you never get beyond a certain point with it. It’s very fatiguing to the jaw.
Lord F. (reading). “She says the New York girls are the best dressed in the country, being hired by the dressmakers to wear gowns, to make the girls of other cities envious, and that this is where they get all the money they spend. Very remarkable!”
Helen. Something like sandwich men, evidently.
Lord F. (reading). “The Philadelphia girls, she says, are very fast, but never for long at a time, because the men get sleepy and must have afternoon naps.”