I
have lived out the fullest enjoyment of my soul; I have reached the
limit of my heart's desire. Athens is the goddess of my idolatry. I
have turned pagan and worshipped.
In all my travels I have divided individual trips into two
classes--those which would make ideal wedding journeys and those which
would not. But the greatest difficulty I have encountered is how to
get my happy wedded pair over here in order to _begin_. I have not the
heart to ask them to risk their happiness by crossing the ocean, for
the Atlantic, even by the best of ships, is ground for divorce (if you
go deep enough) in itself. I have not yet tried the Pacific, but I am
told that, like most people who are named Theodosia and Constance and
Winifred, the Pacific does not live up to its name. However, if I
could transport my people, chloroformed and by rapid transit, to
Greece, I would beg of them to journey from Athens to Patras by rail;
and if that exquisite experience did not smooth away all trifling
difficulties and make each wish to be the one to apologize first, then
I would mark them as doomed from the beginning, by their own insensate
and unappreciative natures, as destined to finish their honeymoon by
separate maintenance and alimony.
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