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Updated: June 19, 2025
The purser was as good as his word, and introduced Buel and his portmanteau to a room that contained three wild American collegians who had been doing Europe "on the cheap" and on foot. They received the new-comer with a hilariousness that disconcerted him. "Hello, purser!" cried one, "this is an Englishman. You didn't tell us you were going to run in an Englishman on us."
Buel, and there's my papa on the upper deck." She waved her handkerchief in the air in answer to one that was fluttering on the little steamer. Buel saw the boat cutting a rapid semicircle in the bay as she rounded to, leaving in her wake a long, curving track of foam. She looked ridiculously small compared with the great ship she was approaching, and her deck seemed crowded.
I found it a moment ago down in my state-room, so it was not lost after all." They were now walking together as if they were old acquaintances, the girl still holding the volume in her hand. "By the way," she said innocently, "I see on the passenger list that there is a Mr. Hodden on board. L>o you think he can be the novelist?" "I believe he is," answered Buel, stiffly.
"No, I haven't even the title esquire, which, I understand, all American citizens possess." "Oh, you'll do. Now, I propose that Mr. Buel take his choice of the four bunks, and that we raffle for the rest." When Buel reached the deck out of this pandemonium, he looked around for another citizen of the United States, but she was not there.
The customs officers were first on board, for it is ordained by the law that no foot is to tread the deck before theirs; but the reporters made a good second. Miss Jessop rushed to the gangway, leaving Buel alone. "Hello, Cap!" cried one of the young men of the Press, with that lack of respect for the dignitaries of this earth which is characteristic of them. "Had a good voyage?"
"I said my namesake." "So you did. And now I'm going to ask you an impudent question. You will not look wicked again, will you?" "I won't promise. That depends entirely on the question." "It is easily answered." "I'm waiting." "What is your Christian name, Mr. Buel?" "My Christian name?" he repeated, uncomfortably. "Yes, what is it?" "Why do you wish to know?" "A woman's reason because."
"Mr. Hodden says, sir, that the room belongs to him." "Have you seen his ticket?" "No, sir." "Then bring it to me." "Mistakes sometimes happen, Mr. Buel," said the purser, when the steward vanished. "But as a general thing I find that people simply claim what they have no right to claim.
It seemed wise to comply with these suggestions, and Dr. King resolved to take the Austrian steamer, then soon to leave the Piræus for Trieste. Sir Edmund Lyons secured for him a passport, and assured him that he would take special care of his family during his absence. At the Piræus he was most hospitably entertained by Mr. and Mrs. Buel, of the American Baptist Mission in that place.
Only recently, however, through the writings of Buel, Otto, Hay, Coates, and others, has the hereditary nature of the malady and its curious mode of transmission through the female line been known. As a rule the mother of a hemophile is not a "bleeder" herself, but is the daughter of one.
Kenan Buel, after buying a book of which he had six copies in his portmanteau, with no one to give them to, took his place in the train, and in due time found himself at Liverpool and on board the Geranium.
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