and can tell me what a "Danish pair" looks like.

It would take more than one letter of mine written on foolscap paper to
tell you of our colleagues and friends. I can do it in sections when I
have time. But, oh, when can I get the time!

* * * * *

I have had my "audience" (Johan calls it an "audience"; I call it a
"call on Mrs. President Grant at the White House"). There was nothing
formal or formidable about it. Mrs. Grant and I sat on the sofa
together and talked generalities. Johan could not tell me what to
expect. He said _his_ audience with the President had been a surprise,
unprecedented by anything he had ever seen. As it was his first post as
Minister, he had pictured to himself that it would be somewhat like the
ceremonies abroad--very solemn and impressive. Of course he was in his
red gala uniform, with all his decorations. A hired landau brought him
to the steps of the White House, which he mounted with conscious
dignity. His written speech, nicely folded, he carried in his hand. In
Europe there would have been a crowd of gorgeous chamberlains to
receive him, but here he found a negro, who, on seeing him, hurriedly
donned a coat and, with an encouraging wave of the hand, said: "Come
right along in, sir. I'll let them know you're here, sir." Johan was
shown into a room and waited with patience until the President and Mr.
Hamilton Fish came in. Mr. Grant was dressed in a gray walking-suit and
wore a colored tie; and Mr. Hamilton Fish (Secretary of State) had
evidently just come in from a walk, as his turned-up trousers
signified.

Johan read his speech, and the President answered by reading, with some