Our hostess at a dinner party there was the first to mention it, but several other ladies added details. They had formed a few days before a society called the "Simplicity League," the members of which bound themselves to give each other moral support in their efforts to return to a more primitive mode of life. I cannot recall now whether the topic came up before or after the butler and the footman came around with caviar and cocktails, but I know that I had learned a lot about it from charming and enthusiastic ladies at either side of me before the sherry had come on; that, by the time the sauterne was served, I was deeply impressed, and that, with the roast and the Burgundy, I was prepared to take the field against all comers, not only in favor of simplicity, but in favor of anything and everything which was favored by my hostess. Throughout the salad, the ices, the Turkish coffee, and the Corona-coronas I remained her champion, while with the port--ah! nothing, it seems to me, recommends the old order of things quite so thoroughly as old port, which has in it a sermon and a song. After dinner the ladies told us more about their league. "We don't intend to go to any foolish extremes," said one who looked like the apotheosis of the Rue de la Paix. "We are only going to scale things down and eliminate waste. There is a lot of useless show in this country which only makes it hard for people who can't afford things. And even for those who can, it is wrong. Take the matter of dress--a dress can be simple without looking cheap. And it is the same with a dinner. A dinner can be delicious without being elaborate. Take this little dinner we had to-night--" "_What?_" I cried. "Yes," she nodded. "In future we are all going to give plain little dinners like this." "_Plain?_" I gasped. Our hostess overheard my choking cry. "Yes," she put in. "You see, the league is going to practise what it preaches." "But I didn't think it had begun yet! I thought this dinner was a kind of farewell feast--that it was--" [Illustration: I was prepared to take the field against all comers, not only in favor of simplicity, but in favor of anything and everything which was favored by my hostess] Our hostess looked grieved. The other ladies of the league gazed at me reproachfully. "Why!" I heard one exclaim to another, "I don't believe he noticed!" "Didn't you notice?" asked my hostess. I was cornered. "Notice?" I asked. "Notice _what_?" "That we didn't have champagne!" she said. CHAPTER III CLEVELAND CHARACTERISTICS Before leaving home we were presented with a variety of gifts, ranging all the way from ear muffs to advice. Having some regard for the esthetic, we threw away the ear muffs, determining to buy ourselves fur caps when we should need them. But the advice we could not throw away; it stuck to us like a poor relation. In the parlor car, on the way from Buffalo to Cleveland, our minds got running on sad subjects.