palace. During the meal the King asked his guest his impressions of
Montenegro.

"Its scenery is magnificent," was the answer. "Its women are as
beautiful and its men as handsome as any I have ever seen. Their
costumes are marvelously picturesque. But the country appears to have no
exports, your Majesty."

"Ah, my friend," replied the King, his eyes twinkling, "you forget my
daughters."

Another story, which illustrates the King's quick wit, was told me by
his Majesty himself. When, some years before the Great War, Emperor
Francis Joseph, on a yachting cruise down the Adriatic, dropped anchor
in the Bocche di Cattaro, the Montenegrin mountaineers celebrated the
imperial visit by lighting bonfires on their mountain peaks, a mile
above the harbor.

"I see that you dwell in the clouds," remarked Francis Joseph to
Nicholas, as they stood on the deck of the yacht after dinner watching
the pin-points of flame twinkling high above them.

"Where else can I live?" responded the Montenegrin ruler. "Austria holds
the sea; Turkey holds the land; the sky is all that is left for
Montenegro."

One of the things which the King told me during our conversation will, I
think, interest Americans. He said that when President Wilson arrived in
Paris he sent him an autograph letter, congratulating him on the great
part he had played in bringing peace to the world and requesting a