loo MY AMERICAN FRIENDS

A

lady with the paper and string: " In St, Peters-
burg we like to see your face, not your back ";
and all night long, as I lay Jialf-asleep in the train
that was carrying me from Florida to New
Orleans, the wheels of the Pullman beneath me
seemed to be singing a jolly old French song:

" Sur k font IMgnon

SurbpontfA'tipitn
Twtbwndejdmenrwi"