Mother bought a sealskin muff to match her coat, and a lovely Russian sable scarf and muff me in Geneva; also a pattern dress of blue chambray, hand-embroidered. I had it made at home.

We went to Lausanne and Bern and on to Paris where we spent three days before going to England. We had no trouble when crossing the channel where many people get seasick. We did a lot of sightseeing in London where we spent a week in a downtown hotel. Lucy and her father spent most of their time in the Tate, the National Gallery, and the British Museum. Lucy Norvell's desire to become an artist was developed on this trip. She was very studious and in later years studied in New York and Paris and became a semi-professional artist.

Mr. Shaw, Sank's Member of Parliament friend, was at his country estate or we might have attended a session of parliament. We were in London at the time in September when the Jewish New Year is celebrated. We went to the Ghetto. It was the last day. We left our cab and walked several blocks to see the lights, tables full of food, people eating, singing, and dancing in the streets.

As stated before, we had reservations on a ship sailing from Liverpool to Boston, so a visit to Mr. Shaw was on our way. My memory fails me here as to the name of the village near the Shaw estate and the name of the steamer to Boston. We sailed in time for Lucy to get to Mary Institute the middle of September. The fox hunting season started the end of September. When Mr. Shaw learned that Sank, Lucy, and I were experienced riders he urged us to remain for a hunt. Alas, we had to go home!

The steamer stopped at Queenstown, Ireland, where we got a glimpse of the Emerald Isle, but not long enough for us to land. The trip was foggy and cold and would have been rather boring to me but for some Oxford and Cambridge boys who played association football. They had been invited to the United States to learn about American football. They were athletes and played games such as tug-of-war and shuffleboard all the way across. They asked me and some Boston girls to play in a shuffleboard tournament. I won and they gave me a Scotch dirk, a small replica of what Highlanders stick in their belts. It was about five inches long and set with Scotch stones.

The beautiful silk rug I had bought in Constantinople was rolled up in a shawl strap with my steamer rug. When the customs officer said, "What's in here - rugs?" I said "Yes sir," and it passed through. How glad I was to get home!
Thus ended a very remarkable trip, the richer by the memories Claude and I enjoy reviewing while in our eighties. In succeeding chapters I will have a great deal to tell about the lifelong friends I made on that trip and was blessed with for many years.