"The meanest American intelligence is equal
to stepping into an elevator and stepping out again." But he bought one
nevertheless, and was particularly pleased with it, not only because it
was the cheapest thing in Paris at five cents, but because, as he said
himself, it contained an amount of enthusiasm not usually available at
any price.
The Senator thought, as we entered the elevator at the first story, that
the accommodation compared very well indeed with anything in his
experience. He had only one criticism--there was no smoking-room. We had
a slight difficulty with momma at the second story--she did not wish to
change her elevator. Inside she said she felt perfectly secure, but the
tower itself she knew _must_ waggle at that height when once you stepped
out. In the end, however, we persuaded her not to go down before she had
made the ascent, and she rose to the top with her eyes shut. When we
finally got out, however, the sight of numbers of young ladies selling
Eiffel Tower mementoes steadied her nerves. She agreed with poppa that
business premises would never let on anything but the most stable basis.
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