"Now, Mr. Robert Carruthers," I had said to myself at the beginning of the first story of "skirts," "you will find yourself obliged to be in the presence of men as one of their kind and not throw scalding tea in their faces when they speak of ladies. You are of a great ignorance about the brute that is known as man and you must learn to know him as you do the wild hog in hunting." But even for the sake of a larger education I could not remain, and I fled from that Mr. Slade of Detroit in one half hour back to the arms of the stiff lady. But when I arrived there I found she had had me removed from her as far as possible to the other end of the car, where I found my bags deposited beside one marked "G. Slade, Detroit." "Took the liberty of transferring you here above the other gentleman, sir. The lady is nervous," said the conductor of the car as he handed me another ticket. "Right, old top," said that Mr. G. Slade as he stood beside us, having followed. "If you don't enjoy sleeping rock-a-bye-baby we can put our togs up and you can bunk in with me. I'm not nervous." And with a glance at the very stiff black silk back in the front of the car he made a laugh that I could not prevent myself from sharing. It is then that the delicacy of a woman is so easily corrupted? "I beg your pardon, conductor, but upper nine is engaged for my son who is to get on at Philadelphia. I must have him just opposite my daughter and me. We are nervous." And as the large and pathetic lady across the aisle from number nine spoke in a most timid voice, that Mr. G. Slade gave one glance at the daughter of whom she spoke, who also must have weighed a great many litre, or what you call in America, pounds, and fled back to the smoking apartment. It was a very funny sight to behold that small conductor stand with my large bags and overcoat and look around at that car full of ladies for a place in which to deposit me and them, which was not previously occupied by some female of great nervousness. "Madam, I will have to use the upper of this section," he finally turned and said to the occupant of the number of seven with a very fine determination. "Certainly, conductor; let me remove my hat and coat," came back the answer in a voice of very great sweetness as the conductor deposited me and my bags down in front of the most beautiful lady in all America, I am sure. "Thank you for much graciousness, Madam," I said, keeping those gray tweed knees straight out in front of me and very still to prevent trembling. "Not at all, sir; I only bought the lower half of this section. I am not at all _nervous_," and I could see her mouth that was curled like the petals of an opening rose tremble from a mischief as she regarded the stiff black silk back in the front of the car and the two huge females on our right whose son and brother was to arrive in Philadelphia for their protection. An equally gay mischief rose in my eyes and responded to that in hers as I responded also by word: