Though Quackinboss understood thoroughly well that it devolved upon him to do the honors of his country to the “Britisher,” he felt that, in honest fairness, the stranger ought to be free to form his impressions, without the bias that would ensue from personal attentions, while he also believed that American institutions and habits stood in need of no peculiar favor towards them to assert their own superiority. “Don't be on the look-out, sir, for Eu-ropean graces,” he would say, “in this country, for the men that have most of 'em ain't our best people; and don't mistake the eagerness with which everybody will press you to admire America for any slight towards the old country. We all like her, sir; and we'd like her better if she wasn't so fond of saying she's ashamed of us.” These were the sort of warnings and counsels he would drop as he guided Layton about through the city, pointing out whatever he deemed most worthy of curiosity, or whatever he conceived might illustrate the national character. It was chiefly on the wealth of the people, their untiring industry, and the energy with which they applied themselves to money-getting, that he laid stress; and he did this with a degree of insistence that betrayed an uneasy consciousness of how little sympathy such traits meet with from the passing traveller. “Mayhap, sir, you 'd rather see 'em loafing?” said he one day in a moment of impatience, as Layton half confessed that he 'd like to meet some of the men of leisure. “Well, you 'll have to look 'em up elsewhere, I expect. I 'll have to take you a run down South for that sort of cattle,--and that's what I mean to do. Before you go before our people, sir, as a lecturer, you 'll have to study 'em a little, that's a fact! When you come to know 'em, you 'll see that it's a folk won't be put off with chaff when they want buckwheat; and that's jest what your Eu-ropeans think to do. I will take a trip to the Falls first; I 'd like to show you that water-power. We start away on Monday next.”