Needless　to　say；　I　was　extremely　annoyed；　but　of　redress　I　could　obtain　none。　Contradiction　where　the　country　is　so　vast　and　newspapers　are　so　many　is　hopeless。　However；　when　I　was　leaving　New　York　another　representative　of　the　same　great　paper　came　to　interview　me　on　the　steamer；　and　to　him　I　expressed　my　feelings。　He　listened；　then　replied；　with　a　somewhat　sickly　smile；　“Very　annoying；　Mr。　Haggard；　but　I　guess　it　would　be　scarcely　loyal　of　me　to　give　our　man　away；　would　it？”

Nothing　could　exceed　the　kindness　with　which　we　were　received　in　the　United　States　—　even　the　reporters　were　kind　till　it　came　to　cold　print。　Really　I　think　that　Americans　are　the　most　hospitable　people　in　the　world。　I　will　go　further　and　say　that　nobody　is　so　nice　or　sympathetic　or　broad…minded　or　desirous　of　all　good　as　a　really　first…class　American；　man　or　woman。　I　remember　that　on　the　occasion　of　this　visit　we　were　quite　glad　to　escape　from　New　York；　where　literally　we　were　being　killed　with　kindness。　To　feast　with　some　hospitable　host　at　every　meal；　from　breakfast　till　a　midnight　supper；　after　a　week　or　so　bees　more　than　the　human　frame　can　bear。

From　New　York　we　went　to　the　beautiful　city　of　New　Orleans；　where　also　we　were　widely　entertained。　One　dinner…party　I　shall　never　forget。　Upon　each　napkin　lay　a　little　poem　anent　something　I　had　written。　For　instance；　here　is　one　which　evidently　refers　to　“The　World’s　Desire”：

Upon　thy　breast　the　“bleeding　Star”　of　love；

？Etherealised；　and　freed　from　serpent　taint；

Is　all　afire；　O　burnished　dove！

？For　whom　men　fail　and　faint！

Moreover　in　the　middle　of　dinner　someone　—　I　think　it　was　our　hostess　—　rose　and　read　a　poem　at　me。　Though　very　kindly　meant；　it　was　really　most　embarrassing；　especially　as　I