One sees merely water, and that's all about it.
It will be understood, therefore, that I hailed our approach to the
shores of foreign America with relief if not with enthusiasm. Even
this was better than an ocean which has only size in its favour and
has been quite too foolishly overrated.
We were soon steaming into the harbour of one of their large cities.
Chicago, I had fancied it to be, until the chance remark of an
American who looked to be a well-informed fellow identified it as New
York. I was much annoyed now at the behaviour of Cousin Egbert, who
burst into silly cheers at the slightest excuse, a passing steamer, a
green hill, or a rusty statue of quite ungainly height which seemed to
be made of crude iron. Do as I would, I could not restrain him from
these unseemly shouts. I could not help contrasting his boisterousness
with the fine reserve which, for example, the Honourable George would
have maintained under these circumstances.
A further relief it was, therefore, when we were on the dock and his
mind was diverted to other matters. A long time we were detained by
customs officials who seemed rather overwhelmed by the gowns and
millinery of Mrs. Effie, but we were at last free and taken through
the streets of the crude new American city of New York to a hotel
overlooking what I dare say in their simplicity they call their Hyde
Park.
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