Bah! after all, every country has her snobs. Why should America be an exception to the rule? When I think of the numberless charming people I have met in this country, I may as well leave it to the Europeans who have come in contact with American snobs to speak about them, inasmuch as the subject is not particularly entertaining. What amuses me much more here is the effect of democracy on what we Europeans would call the lower classes. A few days ago, in a hotel, I asked a porter if my trunk had arrived from the station and had been taken to my room. "I don't know," he said majestically; "you ask that gentleman." The gentleman pointed out to me was the negro who looks after the luggage in the establishment. In the papers you may read in the advertisement columns: "Washing wanted by a lady at such and such address." [Illustration: THE NEW YORK CABMAN.] The cabman will ask, "If you are the _man_ as wants a _gentleman_ to drive him to the _deepo_." During an inquiry concerning the work-house at Cambridge, Mass., a witness spoke of the "ladies' cells," as being all that should be desired. Democracy, such is thy handiwork! * * * * * I went to the Stock Exchange in Wall Street at one o'clock. I thought that Whitechapel, on Saturday night, was beyond competition as a scene of rowdyism. I have now altered this opinion. I am still wondering whether I was not guyed by my pilot, and whether I was not shown the playground of a madhouse, at the time when all the most desperate lunatics are let loose. After lunch I went to Falk's photograph studio to be taken, and read the first page of "Jonathan and His Continent," into his phonograph. Marvelous, this phonograph! I imagine Mr. Falk has the best collection of cylinders in the world. I heard a song by Patti, the piano played by Von Bülow, speeches, orchestras, and what not! The music is reproduced most faithfully. With the voice the instrument is not quite so successful. Instead of your own voice, you fancy you hear an imitation of it by Punch. All the same, it seems to me to be the wonder of the age. After paying a few calls, and dining quietly at the Everett House, I went to the Metropolitan Opera House, and saw "The Barber of Bagdad." Cornelius's music is Wagnerian in aim, but I did not carry away with me a single bar of all I heard. After all, this is perhaps the aim of Wagnerian music. What a sight is the Metropolitan Opera House, with its boxes full of lovely women, arrayed in gorgeous garments, and blazing with diamonds! What luxury! What wealth is gathered there! How interesting it would be to know the exact amount of wealth of which New York can boast! In this morning's papers I read that land on Fifth Avenue has lately sold for $115 a square foot. In an acre of land there are 43,560 square feet, which at $115 a foot would be $5,009,400 an acre. Just oblige me by thinking of it! * * * * * _January 12._