“It’s a mere Briticism, poppa,” I observed.  Mr. Mafferton loathed being obliged to defend his native tongue at any point.  That very morning the modus vivendi between us, that I had done so much for Dicky’s sake to establish, had been imperilled by my foolish determination to know why all Englishmen pronounced “white” “wite.”

“I daresay,” said poppa gloomily, “but I am not on to it and I don’t suppose I ever shall be.  What struck me on the ride up through the city was the perambulating bath.  Going round on wheels to be hired out, just the ordinary tin tub of commerce.  The fellows were shouting something—­’Who’ll buy a wash!’ I suppose.  But that’s the disadvantage of a foreign language; it leaves so much to the imagination.”

“The goats were nice,” I said, “so promiscuous.  I saw one of them looking out of a window.”

“And the dear little horses with bells round their necks,” momma added, “and the tall yellow houses with the stucco dropping off, and especially the fruit shops and the flower stalls that make pictures down every narrow street.  Such masses of colour!”

“We might have hit on a worse hotel,” observed Mr. Mafferton.  “Very tolerable soup, to-night.”

“I can’t say I noticed the soup,” said the Senator.  “Fact is, soup to me is just—­soup.  I presume there are different kinds, but beyond knowing most of them from gruel I don’t pretend to be a connoisseur.”

“What nonsense, Alexander!” said momma sternly.

“Some are saltier than others, Augusta, I admit.  But what I was going on to say was that for clear monotony the dinner programmes ever since Paris have beaten the record.  Bramley told me how it would be.  Consommy, he said—­that’s soup—­consommy, the whole enduring time.  Fish frite or fried, roast beef a l’Italienne or mixed up with vegetables.  Beans—­well, just beans, and if you don’t like ’em you can leave ’em, but that fourth course is never anything but beans.  After that you get a chicken cut up with lettuce, because if it was put on the table whole some disappointed investigator might find out there was nothing inside and file a complaint.  Anything to support that unstuffed chicken?  Nope.  Finishing up with a compote of canned fruit, mostly California pears that want more cooking, and after that cheese, if you like cheese, and coffee charged extra.  Thanks to Bramley, I can’t say I didn’t know what to expect, but that doesn’t increase the variety any.  Now in America—­I understand you have been to America, sir?”

“I have travelled in the States to some extent,” responded Mr. Mafferton.

“Seen Brooklyn Bridge and the Hudson, I presume.  Had a look at Niagara Falls and a run out to Chicago, maybe.  That was before I had the pleasure of meeting you.  Get as far as the Yosemite?  No?  Well, you were there long enough anyhow to realise that our hotels are run on the free will system.”