for the ham and eggs that were forbidden him. Yet I stood aghast, for
with the lounge-suit of tweeds I had selected the day before he had
worn his top-hat! I am aware that these things I relate of him may not
be credited. I can only put them down in all sincerity.

I hastened to him and removed the thing from his head. I fear it was
not with the utmost deference, for I have my human moments.

"It's not done, sir," I protested. He saw that I was offended.

"All right, sir," he replied meekly. "But how was I to know? I thought
it kind of set me off." He referred to it as a "stove-pipe" hat. I
knew then that I should find myself overlooking many things in him. He
was not a person one could be stern with, and I even promised that
Mrs. Effie should not be told of his offence, he promising in turn
never again to stir abroad without first submitting himself to me and
agreeing also to wear sock-suspenders from that day forth. I saw,
indeed, that diplomacy might work wonders with him.

At breakfast in the drawing-room, during which Cousin Egbert earned
warm praise from Mrs. Effie for his lack of appetite (he winking
violently at me during this), I learned that I should be expected to
accompany him to a certain art gallery which corresponds to our
British Museum. I was a bit surprised, indeed, to learn that he
largely spent his days there, and was accustomed to make notes of the
various objects of interest.

"I insisted," explained Mrs. Effie, "that he should absorb all the
culture he could on his trip abroad, so I got him a notebook in which
he puts down his impressions, and I must say he's done fine. Some of