Many handcarts were drawn by men and women in the streets, something entirely new to me. The streets were bordered on each side with cablights--a yellow border when looking in one direction and red in the opposite. All those in motion were being driven with such rapid speed that collision and accident seemed inevitable, but I got safely back to my hotel having seen more in sixty minutes than my eyes had ever before beheld in as many months. I tried to get sleep that night, but sleep would not come. What if the _Gallia_ should go down, or Dr. Talmage get ill, or any other accident? I was alone in London, too. I had no one to talk to. I wanted to vent my feelings and could not. It was a long night. I was up early next morning, but there was no sign of life about the hotel or in the street. I asked the first person I met: “What is the matter--is it Sunday? Where are all the people? “He informed me that it was only 7 o’clock, and that nobody was supposed to be moving about London before 9. It seemed strange to a Yankee. I started out and got lost in Westminster Abbey. How time dragged along. I wanted breakfast, but could get nothing for an hour, so I waited and wondered. At 8:30 I got into the dining room and gave an order for breakfast and a morning paper. While reading my paper a man in uniform, whom I found to be “boots,” approached me with a salute, asking if I were Major Pond? “Yes,” I replied. “The post has just brought your letters; where shall I take them, sir?” “Bring them to me here,” I said. “But I can’t. There are several baskets full.” “What!” said I. “You must be mistaken. I am expecting no such mail.” “Aren’t you Major J. B. Pond?” he again politely inquired. “Yes; I’m that man. What’s the matter?” “You have several hundred letters, sir. Shall I take them to your room?” I accompanied “boots” to the office, and there, to my astonishment, were between four and five hundred letters, nearly enough to fill a barrel, and they were all addressed to me, and from every part of England, Scotland, and Ireland, and many telegrams. All were seeking to secure the Rev. Dr. Talmage for a lecture, and all from the two-line announcement in _The Christian Herald and Signs of the Times_ the day before. About 10 o’clock Dr. Baxter called and I showed him what I considered a sight--more letters than I could open and read in two days. He expressed no surprise, but kindly offered to put one or two stenographers and a permanent secretary at my disposal, free of any expense. About noon three young men arrived from Dr. Baxter’s with notes of introduction; these were the stenographers and a secretary at my service. “Who am I?” I thought. Such patronage and politeness I was unaccustomed to. It required change of position and getting out into the lobby for a free breath very often.