Mathematical Recreations; May 1995; Scientific American Magazine; by Stewart; 3 Page(s)

Atoast, ladies and gentlemen: To the Queen!" We stood, dutifully raised our glasses and murmured the sovereign's name. It should have been a poignant moment, but it was spoiled by the person next to me, who flopped back into his chair and muttered, "Thank God, now I can smoke!" (It is a quaint British custom that at a formal dinner no one may smoke before the party drinks to the queen's health.)

I'd rather you didn't, I said. "I'm a nonsmoker." "You had the smoked salmon," he said and roared with laughter as he lit a cigarette. I wrinkled my nose and glanced at his badge: Richard Byrd. He had penciled in, "Call me Dicky."