And as I looked at that copy of "Manon Lescaut," I almost felt grateful that Prevost was dead. [Illustration] CHAPTER XXVIII. FOR THE FIRST TIME I SEE AN AMERICAN PAPER ABUSE ME--ALBANY TO NEW YORK--A LECTURE AT DALY'S THEATER--AFTERNOON AUDIENCES. _New York, February 23._ The American press has always been very good to me. Fairness one has a right to expect, but kindness is an extra that is not always thrown in, and therefore the uniform amiability of the American press toward me could not fail to strike me most agreeably. Up to yesterday I had not seen a single unkind notice or article, but in the Albany _Express_ of yesterday morning I read: This evening the people of Albany are asked to listen to a lecture by Max O'Rell, who was in this country two years ago, and was treated with distinguished courtesy. When he went home he published a book filled with deliberate misstatements and willful exaggerations of the traits of the American people. This paper "has reason," as the French say. My book contained one misstatement, at all events, and that was that "all Americans have a great sense of humor." You may say that the French are a witty people, but that does not mean that France contains no fools. It is rather painful to have to explain such things, but I do so for the benefit of that editor and with apologies to the general reader. In spite of this diverting little "par," I had an immense audience last night in Harmanus Bleecker Hall, a new and magnificent construction in Albany, excellent, no doubt, for music, but hardly adapted for lecturing in, on account of its long and narrow shape. [Illustration: RIP VAN WINKLE.] I should have liked to stay longer in Albany, which struck me as being a remarkably beautiful place, but having to lecture in New York this afternoon, I took the vestibule train early this morning for New York. This journey is exceedingly picturesque along the Hudson River, traveling as you do between two ranges of wooded hills, dotted over with beautiful habitations, and now and then passing a little town bathing its feet in the water. In the distance one gets good views of the Catskill Mountains, immortalized by Washington Irving in "Rip Van Winkle." On boarding the train, the first thing I did was to read the news of yesterday. Imagine my amusement, on opening the Albany _Express_ to read the following extract from the report of my lecture: He has an agreeable but not a strong voice. This was the only point that could be criticised in his lecture, which consisted of many clever sketches of the humorous side of the character of different Anglo-Saxon nations. His humor is keen. He evidently is a great admirer of America and Americans, only bringing into ridicule some of their most conspicuously objectionable traits.... His lecture was entertaining, clever, witty and thoroughly enjoyable.