"No," said I. "About America."
"I cannot!" he cried, despairingly. "I do not wish to dwell upon my
sufferings. If I told about my American experience, people would not
believe; they would rank me with Munchausen, my sufferings were so
intense. Let me tell of how I lived on Esquimau dog-chops and ice-cream
for nineteen weeks."
"Pardon me, Mr. Nansen," said I, "but I can't do that. We Americans know
all about the North Pole. Few of us, on the other hand, know anything
about America, and we wish to be enlightened. What did you think of
Chicago?"
"Chicago? H'm! Let me see," said Nansen, tapping his forehead gently
with an ice-pick. "Chicago! Oh yes, I remember; it was a charmingly cold
city, full of trolley-cars, and having a newly acquired subway and a
public library. I found it a beautiful city, madam, and the view from
the Bunker Hill Statue of Liberty was superb, looking down over
Blackwell's Island through the Golden Gate out into the vast, trackless
waste of Lake Superior. Yes, I thought well of it. If I remember
rightly, we took in $1869 at the door."
I was surprised at his command of details, and resolved further to test
his memory.
"And Philadelphia, Mr. Nansen?"
[Illustration: "DINED WITH THE CABINET"]
"A superb city, considering its recency, as you say in English. I met
many delightful people there. Senator Tom Reed received me at his palace
on Euclid Avenue, if I remember the street aright; the Mayor of the
city, Mr. McKinley, gave me a dinner, at which I sat down with Mr.
Cleveland and Mr. Van Wyck, and Mr. Bryan and Mr. Pulitzer, and other
members of his cabinet; and in my leisure hours I found the theatres of
Philadelphia most pleasing, with Mr. Jefferson singing his nigger songs,
Mr. Mansfield in his inimitable skirt-dancing, and, best of all, Mr.
Daly's Shakespearian revivals of 'Hamlet' and 'Othello,' with Miss Rehan
in the title-roles. Oh yes, Miss Witherdown--"
"Witherup!" I snapped, coldly.
"Excuse me, Witherup," said the great explorer. "Oh yes, Miss Witherup,
I found America a most delightful country, especially your capital city
of Philadelphia."
"Herr Nansen," said I, "are you as accurate in your observations of the
North Pole as in your notes of the States, as expressed to me?"
"Neither more nor less so," said he, somewhat uneasily, I thought.
"But you have drawn a most delightful picture of the States," said I. "I
think all Americans will be pleased by your reference to the Bunker Hill
Monument at Chicago, and Mayor McKinley's cabinet at Philadelphia. On
the other hand, you spoke of intense suffering while with us."
"Yes," said he, "I did--because I suffered. Have you ever travelled in
your own country, madam?"
"I am an American," said I. "Therefore when I travel I travel abroad."
"Then you do not know of the privations of American travel," he cried.
"Consider me, Nansen, compelled, after the delightful discomfort of the
_Fram_, to have to endure the horrid excellence of your Pullman service.
Consider me, Nansen, after having subsisted on dogs and kerosene oil for
months, having to eat a breakfast costing a dollar at one of your
American hotels, consisting of porridge, broiled chicken, deviled
kidney, four kinds of potatoes, eggs in every style, real coffee, and
buckwheat cakes! Consider me--"
"Nansen?" I inquired.
"Yes, Nansen," said he. "Consider me, Nansen, used to the cold of the
Arctic regions, the Arctic perils, having to wake up every morning in an
American hotel or an American parlor-car, warm, without peril,
comfortable, _without anything whatsoever to growl about_."
"It must have been devilish," said I.
"It was," said he.
"Well, Mr. Nansen," I put in, rising, "you can stand it. You are cold
enough to stay in Hades for forty-seven years without losing your
outside garments. How much do I owe you?"
"Fifteen thousand dollars, please," said he.