After a pleasant chat we dined together at Moretti’s. Nye asked if he would be expected to learn to eat macaroni like some of our Bohemian neighbors. This was his first Italian dinner; it was all of great interest to him, all new, and he saw it from the standpoint of an inexperienced youth. I told him that now he was coming East to live I would make some money for him in the lyceum. He seemed doubtful, but said he would try it. His first lecture under my auspices was given in Bridgeport, Conn. A certain organization (the Y. M. C. A.) in that place seemed to think the name of Bill Nye would draw, and engaged to pay him $150; so Bill was fitted out with his contract, and went to Bridgeport. The committee met him, and were very polite. The contract read: “In consideration for said lecture the party of the first part agrees to pay to the party of the second part (Mr. Nye) $150 in currency on the evening of the lecture, before eight o’clock.” Mr. Nye was on hand before the appointed time. A little after eight o’clock the president of the organization said: “Mr. Nye, we are ready. Will you please follow me to the stage?” Nothing was said about payment. Mr. Nye said he was ready, but that he must return to New York as soon as the lecture was over, and added that he hoped he would not be detained. The president made no response, but walked on, followed by Bill. The Opera House was crowded, and the president remarked to the speaker of the evening that it was the largest house they remembered having on an opening night. At the close of the lecture no one came to Mr. Nye to offer payment, and he was obliged to hint to the president that there was a little matter of business that had been forgotten. “Oh, yes,” returned the president; “come with me to the box-office.” “It’s twenty minutes to ten,” said Nye, “and I must catch the ten o’clock train.” When they reached the box-office, the treasurer, who was counting the receipts of the evening, said: “Mr. Nye, shall we settle with you or with Major Pond?” “I have a copy of the contract, the same that you are holding in your hand, which reads ‘Settlement to be made in currency with party of the second part before eight o’clock.’” “Oh, how much is it?” “One hundred and fifty dollars in currency,” said Nye. “One hundred and fifty dollars! Why, who ever heard of so much money for only an hour’s talk?” “Did you lose any money on the venture?” asked William. “Oh, no. The house was full; but we don’t think you ought to exact such an exorbitant sum for an hour’s talk.” “Gentlemen, I must catch that train in ten minutes. Will you kindly settle with me?” “You will take our check, won’t you, Mr. Nye?” asked the treasurer. “Yes, if the contract says so. How does it read?” asked Mr. Nye, with impatience. “It does read currency. You won’t take less than $150?” Mr. Nye said nothing, and the treasurer counted out the money, for which Nye signed a receipt. Then he said: