I spent four or five days in New York. I went to several shows, amongst others the Winter Garden and Ziegfeld's Follies; they were very interesting. The scenery at the latter was distinctly original. I do not know very much about art, but I am certain that what I saw would come under the heading of the Futurist School. There was a great deal that was thoroughly amusing and interesting. Americans seem to have a sense of fun rather than a sense of humour. Shakespeare is caricatured a great deal. I thought that much of the dancing, and the performance of the chorus generally, bordered on the _risque_. There seems, also, to be a type of _comedienne_ who comes forward and talks to the people in a diverting way. She is sometimes about forty years old, makes no attempt to look beautiful, but just says deliciously funny things. She is often seen and heard in America. I have also seen the same type at La Cigale in Montmartre. It is just a little difficult at first to get the same sort of tobacco here that one gets in England. The second day after my arrival in New York, I went into a tobacconist shop to buy a pipe and some tobacco. I spent about six dollars, and handed the man behind the counter a twenty dollar bill. Obviously, I was a little unused to American money, but I naturally expected to get back fourteen dollars. The man gave me four one dollar bills, then about six smaller bills with twenty-five written on them, and prepared to bow me out. I looked at the change and saw that the poor fellow had given me too much. Deciding to be honest I returned to him and said, "You have given me wrong change." He looked unconcerned, and going to the cash register subtracted ten more one dollar bills. I was still more astonished and once more examined my change. Then I understood that the small bills were coupons, and the clever gentleman, realizing that I was a stranger and a little worried, had endeavored to make money. Honesty in this case proved the best policy. I enjoyed these days. I met but few American people. I was very much overcome with admiration for New York, and I told this to an American friend. He seemed pleased, but commenced to point out certain drawbacks. He said that the high buildings were rather awkward things, and that people walking about on the pavement below were sometimes nearly blown off their feet during a gale. They formed canyons. He said that the lighting problem presented difficulties, too, and that he thought the health of the people might suffer a little if their days were spent in artificial light. Still he unwillingly admitted that he loved New York. The stores where soft drinks are sold are very charming. The drinks are wonderful and varied, and one sees what appear to be women of quality perched up on stools drinking what look to be the most delicious drinks. I should like to test them, and I will some day when I find out their names.