Europe and elsewhere, by Mark Twain [pseud.] [with an appreciation by Brander Matthews and an introduction by Albert Bigelow Paine]

O'SHAH
the heir to all the throne of all the Russias. The
band greeted him with the Russian national anthem,
and played it clear through. And they did right; for
perhaps it is not risking too much to say that this
is the only national air in existence that is really
worthy of a great nation.
And at last came the long-expected millennium
himself, His Imperial Majesty the Shah, with the
chamning Princess of Wales on his arm. He had all
his jewels on, and his diamond shaving brush in his
hat front. He shone like a window with the westering sun on it.
WHAT THE ASYLUM SAW
The small space below us was full now-it could
accommodate no more royalty. The august procession filed down the aisle in double rank, the Shah
and the Princess of Wales in the lead, and cheers
broke forth and a waving of handkerchiefs as the
Princess passed-all said this demonstration was
meant for her. As the procession disappeared
through the farther door, the hundred eleven-dollar
maniacs rushed through a small aperture, then
through an anteroom, and gathered in a flock on
the stage, the chorus striking up "God Save the
Queen" at the same moment.
We stood in a mighty bandbox, or a Roman
coliseum, with a sea of faces stretching far away
over the ground floor, and above them rose five
curving tiers of gaudy humanity, the dizzy upper
tier in the far distance rising sharply up against the
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