Without losing any time this man took me over to the Registration Department, where another man asked me a lot of fool questions, scanned my passport, and finally gave me a permit of some kind or other. I then asked him what time the train went to Paris. "One minute," he said in French. I thought I'd have to hustle, but he was very deliberate. He filled out a printed blank, taking five minutes to do so and then handed it to me, saying in English, "Zis will give you ze permission to inquire what time ze train goes to Parees." From that moment on my stay in Europe, as I now look back upon it, was one continuous performance of asking for, and getting, or being refused, permits to go somewhere or to come somewhere or to remain somewhere. Now time, money, and patience were all limited assets with me, but the European officials did not seem to realize this or else were very inconsiderate. They wasted half my time, extracted at least two-thirds of my money, and absolutely exhausted my patience. At risk of having my name instantly recommended for membership in the Ananias Club, I will defiantly state that I had to have five different kinds of papers on my person to allow me to start for Paris, to get to Paris, to remain in Paris, to be identified in Paris, and to drive an automobile in Paris. If I slipped a cog anywhere I was lost. They say a chain is no stronger than its weakest link, and I had to possess every link in this chain of paper. I remember one fellow who had lost his permit to come to Paris. When he passed his examination for a driver's license, the old fossil in charge would not give it to him. As I understood the matter, the theory was that he could not possibly be in Paris at the time as he could show no paper allowing him to come. And let me say in passing, some of these papers come high. I have figured it all up many times, and as near as I can estimate, the papers, all told, which I had to take out during my European stay, set me back about fifty pounds, five shillings and four pence, or in the neighborhood of two hundred and fifty dollars. It seemed as though every time I turned around some fellow was extending to me a handful of papers and an empty palm. But relieving me of money was not all. The red tape connected with it was what worried me most. Before I could receive the particular permit I wanted, I usually had to take another paper over to another man and swear to a lot of things and get his O. K. upon it. This went hard with me because I'm not used to swearing. I'm a preacher.