The Court--"Well, I don't see that the dog has anything to do with the case. I'll sentence you to six months in the bridewell for being so blamed unpopular." CHAPTER IX THE STORY OF WHAT HAPPENED TO AN AMERICAN CONSUL In undertaking a trip to foreign parts I have had two objects in view:-- (a) To strengthen and more closely cement our friendly relations with foreign Powers--I to furnish the cement. (b) To reform things in general over here. I found that there was no opening for a real reformer in the U.S.A., inasmuch as the magazines were upsetting municipal rings, cornering the Beef Trust, and camping on the trail of every corporation that seemed to be making money. I said:--"If I wish to make a ten strike as a reformer I must seek new fields." So I decided to flit to Europe and spend all the time I could spare from dodging _table d'hote_ dinners to bolstering up and regulating the consular service. In writing to-day about the happy experiences of an American consul I am following the advice of a friend who urged me to send some letters back home. "Don't put in too much about your travels," he said. "People have read about European travel until they know Munich better than they do Montana. Whenever the opportunity presents itself write something entirely irrelevant--something that has nothing to do with anything in particular. The less you say about foreign countries the better you will please your readers, and if you can arrange to write a series of letters in which no reference is made to either Europe or Africa who knows but what you will score a hit?" With no desire to boast of my accomplishments, I feel that up to date I have followed instructions rather closely. If any dates, statistics, or useful information have crept into these communications it is through oversight and not by intention. In writing from Paris the natural impulse is to describe Napoleon's tomb and tell how the Champs Elysees runs right out to the Arc de Triomphe and then cuts through the Bois de Boulogne. Fearing that this subject matter had been touched upon by other visitors, I shall disregard Paris and go straight to my task of reforming the consular service. To begin with, usually the American Consul is all right in his place, but his place is at home. Overpaid, possibly, but he does his best to earn his $800 per annum. If he kept all the money that he handled in the course of the year, he couldn't be a really successful grafter. He finds himself plumped down in a strange country. About the time that he begins to learn the language and has saved up enough money to buy evening clothes he is recalled and goes back home with a "dress suit" on his hands. Take the case of Mr. Eben Willoughby, of Michigan. It is a simple narrative, but it will give you a line on the shortcomings of our consular service, and it will carry its own moral.