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ivI have a boy who loves to haveme tell him stories. True stories usuallyneed modification and adornment ifthey are to remain interesting, and somany stories told him were embellished.These stories have been written for myown amusement at night while otherswere sleeping or as a rest between moreserious tasks. Some of these are true,some partly true and some are productsof the imagination.

October 1, 1924

South Jersey is a very sandy country. There are milesand miles of sand there. Some of it is very pure whitesand used for making glass and for molding sand. Someof this sand has sharp edges but most of it is roundedas if the grains had rolled around until the edges wereworn away. Mr. Kummel has written a paper aboutthis sand in the Report of the New Jersey State GeologicalSurvey for 1906. His paper is entitled “TheGlass Sand Industry of New Jersey.” It is a very interestingpaper though you might not think so from thetitle.

There are also very large beds of green and red sand.The green sand is especially interesting because it containssuch immense amounts of alumina, iron and potash.If our chemists can only find cheap methods for extractingthese substances we shall have enough to last usforever.

The most curious thing about this green sand is thatit is still forming in the water along our coasts. Herethe limestone shells of dead foraminifera are slowlyfilling up with the green substance as their bodies decay.The shells are slowly dissolved by the sea water at thesame time, so that the green sand grains give a perfectcast of the inside of the shells.

2I became interested in this sand while I was in college.The professor sent me down to Mullica Hill to get aload of it to experiment with. He wanted to find a wayto work it. At Mullica Hill I heard that a farmer bythe name of Peter Norman had a pit on his farm. Oneof the loafers there offered to go along and show methe way. I told him he might go if he would get thefarmer to let me have a load of sand for nothing andhelp me load. This he promised to do. On the way heinformed me that Norman’s daughter, Euphemia, hadtaken a notion to him and that probably they would jineup. I said I was looking for a wife myself and if Iliked her looks I would take her along, but I must besure first that she was a good cook. He looked me overas if I were some kind of an insect and asked me howmuch I weighed. I told him all of fifty tons.

When we got to the house Euphemia came to the doorherself. I must say she was a fine looking girl withvery mischievous eyes. She said her father was downat the other end of the farm and my friend had bettergo and get him. Then she giggled. When he had goneshe looked at me and giggled some more. Said I mightgo ahead and take all the sand I wanted. I asked herif she was sure her father would be willing and she said:Sure! She said she would show me the pit and got onthe seat beside me. As we drove along she told me that3one of her girl friends had told Sim she was gone onhim.

I said, “yes, so he told me.”

“Did he?” says she, “the poor simp!”

“If you go about breaking hearts like that,” said I,“you’ll get in jail next. I understand that the sheriffhas been instructed to jug all the flappers.” This madeher giggle some more.

She stood by the side of the pit while I threw the sandinto the truck. After I had been digging a bit my shovelstruck something that felt like rubber. It was roundlike a rubber ball as I uncovered it and larger than acanteloupe. I tried to throw it out, but it seemed to befastened to something at one side. I went on diggingand was getting interested when I heard some oneshouting, and there was the farmer coming as fast as hecould, waving his arms and shouting with all the breathhe had left. When he reached the pit he was puffing andblowing so he could hardly speak, but he made it plainthat he was cross because I had dug without permission,said I had no business to do it, it was trespass, and hehad a great mind to have me arrested.

I said that his daughter had allowed me to dig butthis did not seem to satisfy him. Euphemia told him Iwasn’t hurting anything and he needn’t make a gooseof himself, so he quieted down. Asked what the round4ball was? I told him I didn’t know and he got a shoveland dug too. After awhile the girl said:

“Why it looks like a man!”

It did, too. We went on digging and uncovered hislegs and then his feet. Theywere feet all right, but hewas the queerest looking thing you ever saw. After hewas uncovered we turned him over and I declare hehad a nose, mouth and ears; it was a man! But theoddest looking man you ever saw. His body was nearlytransparent; like cloudy glass. You could see all hisbones through this. He looked like stiff jelly with piecesof cotton in it. We looked at him and then at one another.

“Well, I vum,” said Papa.

“Did you ever,” said Phemy.

“Geewhitakers,” said Sim.

The farmer brought out a wide board and we rolledhim on it. Then I nailed narrow boards on the side, sothat he was in a kind of a trough. There he lay, glisteningin the sunlight. When I looked up I saw thatEuphemia was giggling again.

“Why the laugh?” said I.

“Don’t you think he looks funny? I never expectedto see a man’s bones like that.”

It hadn’t struck me that way before but it was funny,and I had to laugh too. Just then the man sneezed.5Euphemia gathered up her skirts, for she had on a longdress, not one of the bathing suits the flappers wear onthe streets nowadays, and made a bee line for the house.I felt kind of scary myself. It isn’t every day, I cantell you, that you dig up a jelly corpse and have himsneeze just as life-like! Pop Norman by this time wasas white as a sheet. But what the corpse did next certainlymade me stare. He opened one eye, and afterlooking around a bit, confused-like, he looked at me,andwinked. I certainly was flabbergasted. Then heopened the other eye and sat up. Then the farmerscooted. The corpse began to talk to himself in somekind of outlandish jabber. I thought it sounded likeSpanish but it came out like lightning and I couldn’t getit. I had studied Spanish at college but I was not verywell acquainted with it. After saying the same thingover three or four times he turned to me and said itagain—slowly, and quite imperiously. He was askingwhere his clothes were. I said I didn’t know but wouldenquire. I went to the house and found Euphemia verybadly scared and the old man drinking blackberry brandy.He called it a cordial. I insisted that he get some clothesfor the stranger and we picked out an old suit I thoughtmight fit. I took these out to the Spaniard but he wasmuch displeased with them and said he was not accustomedto such garb. I told him it was that or nothing6and the girl was coming so finally he put them on. Heseemed to be about as spry as ordinary people, and hismanner was very polite.

Euphemia got over her fright after awhile and camedownstairs but she seemed quite shook up. After awhilethe Spaniard tried to talk to her but of course shecouldn’t understand until I translated for her. Afterawhile she seemed to like to hear what he said. Histalk was quite high-flown, and after every few words hewould put his hand on his chest and make a low bow.This seemed to suit Euphemia.

It was getting on towards evening and I was obligedto leave but I asked Euphemia to take care of him andI promised to bring a Spanish book so she could makeout what he said, and I told him to stay here until Igot back. He promised to do so and I went away.

When I told the professor about my glass man hesmiled and smiled. He said the Spaniard must be asilica gel pseudomorph, and he was surprised and delightedhe or it could talk Spanish, and when he saidthis he grinned like a Cheshire cat. I got a Spanishdictionary and phrase book at the college bookstore andwent back next day. I found he was trying to explainthe difference betweenser andestar. It struck me thatwas a funny thing to do, but he seemed rather touchy,so I gave her the books and went back to college. I was7very busy the rest of the term and couldn’t get away,but as soon as possible I went back. They were outriding the old man said, and he seemed rather put out.

When they came back I tried to tell her about thegreen sand, but she didn’t seem to be interested and heyawned; so, after talking to the old man for awhile Icame away. She didn’t ask me to come again. He waspolite but quite formal.

I saw no more of the Normans nor of my Spanishfriend for a month. I was in Trenton one afternoon andwas walking on the street when who should I run intobut the Normans. They were staying with an aunt ofhers and I went with them. We sat up pretty late thatnight while Euphemia told me about the Spaniard. Shesaid she wondered I hadn’t heard about it; part of it, itseemed, had got into the newspapers.

She told me she soon got so she could talk Spanishpretty well. It was not difficult except that miserableser andestar. They both meant the same thing and youwere pretty sure to use the wrong one. I told her it waslike the old lady who knew the difference between soldierand shoulder but never could tell which was which. Shesaid the Spaniard talked all the time. He was so politethat at first she liked him pretty well, but he neverseemed to like her father and didn’t treat him very well.He claimed to be a hidalgo, which appeared to be some8kind of a nobleman. He was terribly stuck on himself.He was a ferocious eater and kept her cooking most ofthe time. He was always asking fordos huevos fritasorcarne de vaca. “He kept me fryin eggs or Dadrunnin to town for meat all the time. I believe hecould eat a gallon of soup, and it took so much butterto fry thepapa fritas that we had none left for anythingelse. He was fond of fish, too, and was alwaysaskin for them. This got so bad that Dad and I concludedwe had better take him down to the shore wherefish don’t cost so much. By this time something got thematter with him. It had been rather cool and moist upto this time but by the time we were ready to start therewas a hot dry spell. Before this you could see everythinginside his head except where the bones were in theway. But now white patches like snow began to growon his face, and pretty soon he began to look like asnow man. His face was perfectly white without atrace of color. It was frightful. I kinda liked his looksbefore that. You needn’t laugh; you like the goodlookin women best, and I don’t see any reason why weshouldn’t like the good lookin men.”

“If he didn’t get what he wanted at once he flew intoan awful rage, and it was pretty fierce, I can tell you,to have Snow White rampagin around. So we took himto the shore, or at least we started for the shore. He9had a sword that the blacksmith had made for him outof an old scythe of Dad’s and belt around him to hold it.I said we might be arrested for carrying such thingsaround, but Dad said you could not carry concealedweapons, but nothing was said about other kinds, andthere was nothing concealed about that sword. So westarted off in the wagon, and he sat in the front seatwith Dad. Pretty soon I noticed that little white scaleswas driftin down from him on the floor. It was hotthat day but he didn’t seem to feel it in any other way,but all the time those little white scales kept siftin down’till the floor was all white. I didn’t like to say anythingfor fear of hurtin his feelings but I got mighty nervous.

“We had been on the way about an hour when hespied some oranges in a store we was passin, and he gotout, went in and took them. Didn’t stop to pay, justtook them and came out. The store keeper came outand said, politely, that he had forgotten to pay, but SnowWhite flew into a rage and began to swear frightful.He pulled out his sword and chased the store keeper intohis store. Then we drove on, but by this time Dad andI were scared stiff. About an hour later we passedthrough Swedesboro when a little fellow with a star onhis coat came up and told us we were his prisoners.The Spaniard jumped out and ran at him with thesword. The constable was plucky; he pulled out a pistol10and fired at the Spaniard, but he didn’t hit him, andthe Spaniard chased him a ways down the road. Wedrove on then but more scared than before. I asked theSpaniard if he wasn’t afraid of being put in jail but hesaid no, they wouldn’t dare touch a hidalgo.

“Pretty soon we came to a cross road and somebodyyelled at us from a clump of bushes ‘Surrender in thename of the law.’ But that didn’t frighten him. Hejust jumped out and charged that clump and drove thetwo men in it down the road. By this time we werealmost to Pennsgrove. I was so scared that I got offand ran down a side street and Dad after me. We didn’tsee any more of him but we was told he drove in aslarge as life and met the Sheriff, with two deputies. Hechased them and cut one of them pretty bad. Then heran to the wharf, jumped on a fishing boat, cut the cableand started down the river. The revenue cutter gotafter him and they fired a shot at the boat. This madeher fill and she went down but they managed to pull himout. Of course he got very wet. They took him tothe jail, gave him some dry clothes and put him in acell. They captured Dad and me too, but after they hadasked us a lot of questions they concluded we wasn’tto blame and let us go. I went to see the Spaniard nextday and, say, he was a sight! All the white scales wasgone but they had been thicker in some places than in11others, and where they had been thickest there was akind of a pit on his face like a man who had small pox.He looked fierce, but the water had made him look likeglass again. There was no snow white stuff on himat all.

“They took him before a J. P. that day and he toldthem he was a Spanish nobleman who was willing to diefor Spain. He said he had sunk many English ships andkilled many English and that he was going to do it somemore.”

“Now, I don’t know what you think,” Euphemia saidto me, “but I think that fellow had been thrown overboardfrom some ship and was petrified on the bottomof the sea and covered with sand. When you dug himup he just came to life again. He must have been abird when he was alive, and so he just went on being abird when he came back to life.”

“Well, the Justice of the Peace thought he must becrazy so he sent him to the asylum. But he didn’t staythere long. He broke loose one night, made for theshore, killed two men who was sleepin in a small vessel,pulled up the anchor and put to sea and hasn’t beenheard of since.”

Over in that funny state called New Jersey there is amountain called Peep-Chick Mountain, or something likethat, and this is the story of how it got the name:

There was once a band of robbers who lived in a caveon the side of this big mountain. They stole sheep andpigs and chickens from the farmers who lived in thevalley. Once they had no bread, and the chief robbersaid: “Go and steal all the eggs you can find and we willtrade them for bread at the store.” So they all went out tosteal eggs except one. He was a red-headed robber andhe said: “I think I am for Direct Action. I don’t believein this roundabout business of stealing eggs andthen trading them for bread. Besides I should like tohave some pie and cake also.” So he went down to theroad and hid in some bushes.

Pretty soon a big automobile came whishing by. “Goalong whisher!” said the robber, “I can’t eat you.”Then a truck came rumbling by. “Get along, rumblebumble,” said Red Head. Then along came a baker’scart. “Hi!” said Reddy, “Here’s the Staff of Life!” Sosaying, he pulled out his pistol and fired at the tire.There was a bang and rattle, just as if a pane of glasshad fallen on the sidewalk, and the baker’s cart began towabble and pound on the road. “Ho!” said the baker’s13boy who was driving, “there goes a tire.” He got downand went around the car. Just then Reddy came rushingup.

“Hands up for pie!” said he.

The baker’s boy was so frightened that he ran andjumped into the canal, swam across and hid behind sometrees. The robber fired several shots after him but theyonly splashed the water and scared the boy. Then Reddyunfastened a bag which had been wrapped around himand shoved in pies, cakes, loaves of bread and doughnutsas fast as he could. When this was full he filled anotherbag. Then he tied the two together, flung them over hisback and made off as fast as he could.

Presently the watchman spied Red Head coming up thehill with his bags of pies, bread, cake and doughnuts.It was misty and he loomed through the fog like a donkeycarrying sacks.

“Hey, Jack!” called the watch, “Ohe, Ohe!”

“Ohe yourself!” said Red Head fetching him a slapover the head. But he struck hard and lost his balance,fell and rolled down the hill. The other robbers rushedout and grabbed him, but soon discovered that it was RedHead and let him go.

“I know what your eggs will look like,” said the chief.

When they turned the bags inside out they found thepies, cake, doughnuts and bread all mashed together.14There was blackberry pie making a red streak and lemoncustard making a yellow streak, with doughnuts flattenedout and loaves ofbread between. The juice of the pieshad been soaked up by the bread and cake.

“Hey!” said the chief, “What have we here?”

“That,” said Reddy, “is pie-cake-doughnut-bread.”

“It looks it,” said the chief, “but I believe we can eatit.”

So they sat down and ate some; and, sure enough, itwas good.

In the meantime the other robbers who had gone outhad stolen all the eggs they could find and put them inanother cave near by. There were 503 dozen in all.Now it happened that there was a hot spring in onecorner of the cave where the eggs were stored and afterthey had lain there long enough they began to hatch out.One morning when the robbers came out of their cavethey heard a great rustling and peeping all over the hillside.There were 5798 peeps moving through the grassand among the trees and crying: “peep! peep!”

“Goodness!” said the robber chief, “look at our eggs!they are hungry.”

That night they stole a feed grinder from a farmerin the valley and several bags of corn. Three robbersshelled corn, three drove the mill, three fed the corn andthree made mush of the meal and fed it to the peeps.15The other robbers stole the corn and carried it up themountain. In about two weeks they were tired out.“We are not robbers any longer,” they said, “this iswork!” so they all ran away. By this time the peeps hadbecome chicks and begun to eat grasshoppers and cricketsand were able to take some care of themselves; but thefoxes, weasels, skunks and minks had a fine time eatingthem as they scattered over the mountain side. Byeand bye the farmers caught them until there were nomore left; but the mountain is called Peep-Chick, orsomething like that, to this day.

They called it Round Valley because it really wasround, hemmed in by very high hills, except on the west;here there was an opening through the hills, down themiddle of which flowed a mill stream which drained thevalley. Part way down the gap between the hills was amill dam; and a short distance below the dam was themill. The miller was a little Gnome who lived in themill with his wife and daughter. The mother had oncebeen beautiful, but hard work had made her old beforeher time. Her face was wrinkled; there werecrow’sfeet in the corners of her eyes; her steps were slow andfeeble and her hair was growing gray.

The daughter was a very beautiful and charming girl;she was happy-hearted. She moved around quickly,helping her mother wash the dishes, sweep the floor,put wood on the fire, take up the ashes, milk the cowand feed the pigs and chickens. As she did these thingsshe often smiled, and anyone who took the trouble towatch her could easily see that she had happy thoughts.

There were many Little People living in this valley.You seldom saw them but often heard them. In oneplace below the mill the water fell over some rocks, andhere, if you listened, you could hear some of them saying:“Urgle, urgle, urgle,” just as plain!

17Some lived in the branches of the pines and cooed:“Whoo, whoo, whoo,” and others called from the drygrass: “z-z-z.” Everywhere their voices could be heard,but very soft and low—for they were Little People.

Every day the Gnome worked in the mill—pouringgrain into the hopper, tying up the bags of flour andwriting in a big book in one corner of the mill. Hisclothes were always full of flour, and though he bangedthem with his hands and shook himself before going intothe house, he was always gray or white. He was alwaysbusy, and seldom came into the house except for meals;but he appeared to be interested in his work and quitecheerful.

One evening the sky became dark earlier than usual,and a mist fell over the valley; then the wind rose andthe rain began to fall. It was a dismal night out ofdoors, but within the miller’s house it was bright andcheerful. The window panes shone in the light fromthe bright fire burning in the fireplace; the curtains overthe windows drooped gracefully and were clean andwhite; there was a bookshelf filled with new books withgolden titles and a shelf filled with flowers in pots in oneof the windows. The room was clean and dry and warmas the miller and his wife and daughter sat down to theirevening meal.

18As they sat eating and talking there came a knock atthe door and the daughter went to open it. A dark-eyedStranger was standing on the threshold. “Come inquickly,” said the girl, “the wind is driving the deadleaves and the rain into the house. You are very welcome;come and share our meal!”

The Stranger muttered his thanks and drew a chairto the fire. The mother went upstairs and presently camedown again. “You are very wet,” said she. “I havelaid out a suit of my husband’s in the room above. Goup and put it on! It will keep you warm and dry untilyour own is ready.” So saying she opened the door ofthe stairway and stood aside to allow the Stranger topass.

In a short time he came down and ate a hearty meal;but his face was far from cheerful. He appeared tobe gloomy and glum; he said little and looked at no one.“He is tired,” said the mother to her husband, “take himup to the guest room!”

In the morning the visitor appeared to be more cheerfulthan before. He was still gloomy and glum, however,as he ate his breakfast. He had come down late and themiller had gone to his work in the mill. The motherwas in the kitchen, and the daughter sang as she waitedon him, poured water on the flowers and drew back thecurtains to let more light into the room.

19“Why are you sad?” said she, “see what a beautifulmorning! The fleecy clouds are sailing over the hills;the mill stream is shouting for joy and the birds are singing.”

“Why should I be happy?” said he, “My wife andchild are dead; I am not well and I have lost my money.Why should I rejoice?” So saying he looked gloomierand glummer than before.

“Oh, you poor man,” said the girl, “I am so sorry.”So saying she brought in another plateful of hot cakesand put a jugful of maple syrup on the table; but stillshe kept on singing, for her heart was filled with joy.

“It is very pleasant here,” said the Stranger. “If youdo not mind I will stay a few days. I have enoughmoney left to pay my board.”

“You must settle that with my mother,” said the girl.“It is rather lonesome here sometimes, but you will bevery welcome to stay as long as you like.” So saying sheran off to tell her mother. “Oh, mother!” said she, “Ithink it will be splendid to have him here; he is so sad;and he has lost his wife and child and his money; andhis health is poor, too. I amso sorry for him.”

“That is too bad,” said her mother, “We must be goodto him and perhaps he will become more cheerful.”

At first the Stranger wandered up and down thestream, hunting in the woods or fishing in the brook.20Presently he tired of this and began to help the miller.Very soon he spent most of his time in the mill. In theevening he and the daughter would sometimes take awalk through the woods or over the hills. As he workedin the mill and grew tired and hungry, and slept in theclean, sweet country air, lulled by the voices of the LittlePeople, he grew stronger and happier; the frown left hisbrow; he began to smile, and presently to hum a tune.

One day the miller did not feel very well, and he wentto lie down on his bed, leaving the mill in charge of theStranger. A few days later this happened again. Presentlythe Gnome laid down every day, and then he becameso weak that he must stay in bed all day, while theStranger took care of the mill alone. They sent for theDoctor who said he must stay in bed until he got better.But he got no better; he grew worse each day. One dayhe called the Stranger to him and said: “I feel verysick, and I believe I shall soon be going to a far country;will you take care of my wife and daughter when I amgone?” “Yes,” said the Stranger, “I will do all I can.You have all been good to me and I will do my best toreturn your kindness.”

Then the old miller turned his face to the wall anddied. And they buried him beneath the whispering pines.And the daughter said: “Oh, what shall I do? What21shall I do?” “Let me help you bear it,” said he. Thenshe looked at him and smiled through her tears.

After the miller died the mother was very lonely, andshe often said that she would like to go to him. Presentlyshe, too, sickened. Every day she grew worse, andfinally she died and was laid to rest beneath the spreadingpines beside her man.

After the funeral they sat before the fireplace. Shewas crying and his eyes were wet. “What can I do?”said she, “I have no one to love me and care for me.”“Yes you have,” said he, “I promised your father I wouldtake care of you, and I love you very much. It will notbe hard work for me to love you and care for you.”

“Oh,” said she, “I am so glad you love me, I haveloved you for a long time.” Then she kissed him, shyly.

In a few days they were married. She cared for thehouse and he ran the mill. She is a good housewife andsings as she works and he is a good miller and sings ashe runs the mill. They often kiss. I have noticed thatwhen he kisses her he grows younger but as she kisseshim she grows older. They grow happier every day.

To Angelo Catto, Archbishop of Vienna, from Philipde Comines, Lord of Argenton:—

In the Memoirs which I have written, my good LordArchbishop, at your desire, I have spoken of an occurrenceof little importance, it may appear, and which wasof small note among the great and mighty events whichtook place then and thereafter. None the less, thoughI have there written but a few words, (as thinking therelation of my own small affairs of little value) mattersof great import to me and mine transpired which I shallhere set forth, that you may, if you see fit, relate them tomy dear daughter, Joan, when I am no more.

In these Memoirs I have related that after the battleof Mont l’Hery the horse I bestrode was old and tired,which thrusting by accident his head into a bucket ofwine, drank it and was thereby become lustier and moreserviceable than he was before. I have also there setdown that on the third day after the battle we took upour quarters in the village of Mont l’Hery and that theinhabitants were in such consternation at our approachthat they fled, some into the church steeple, and someinto the castle, which held out against us and was nottaken.

I have not set down the events of the first and seconddays after the battle because, as you shall see, I couldnot know much of them, being away on my own affairs.

23After I had mounted this old, tired horse which I hadridden for several days, I laid the reins upon his neckas was my wont. Straightway he began to gallop, andwhen I sought to rein him in I found the bit betweenhis teeth, and he on a mad run. We burst through theranks of the men-at-arms, whereat I suffered not a little,being without armour at the time, and galloped hardinto the village. As we turned at the church my oldhorse stumbled and fell and I was thrown violently intoa meadow at one side of the way.

Of what happened next I know only as it was relatedto me thereafter. For a long time, it appeared, my witswere wandering. Then I opened my eyes to look intothe eyes of a young maid bending over me anxiously.She smiled and said: “I am glad, good sir. You wereas one dead. It was an ugly fall.”

“Where am I?” I asked.

“You are in the house of my aunt’s nurse,” she replied.“She lies sick in the room above. I had come tovisit her and saw you fall. I fear some of the King’smen saw you also and will do you a mischief.” With thatthere came aknocking at the door and hoarse voicesshouting: “Open in the King’s name!”

She opened the door and I heard loud voices talking.Three archers were there, sent, they said, to bring me to24the Castle, but the maid denied them. She averred I wasin great pain and unfit to be moved. There was muchsaid that I did not fully hear (my wits not yet beingfully returned), but presently she closed the door andcame back.

“I have staved them off for awhile,” she said, “but youmust get back your wits as soon as may be, for they willcome again.” But I was in a maze at the beauty of herand said no word. She seemed like an angel to mysleepy eyes; for by now I felt dead tired and of a mindto sleep. This she saw and said: “Sleep, fair Sir! Iwill fend them from you.” At which I dropped off tosleep to dream of yellow-haired angels singing; and whenI awoke, of a truth she was singing in the chamber above.In a few minutes she returned quietly and, seeing I wasawake, said: “I have now two patients, fair Sir, I prayyou tell me how you do?”

“I am stronger,” I replied “but my arm pains me, andmethinks a bone may perchance be broken.”

“Not so,” said she, “but it is much bruised.”

Again there was a knocking at the door, and when sheopened a rough voice enquiring for me.

“He has been sleeping and is better, but he has beenmuch bruised and must stay the night.”

“Nay, Nay!” said the archer, “that must not be. I ambidden to bring him straight to the Castle.”

25“He is my patient,” she replied, “and I tell thee I willnot have him moved, Count or no Count.”

“You must even have your way, Lady,” said he, “But Isee a heavy reckoning to be paid if he come not soon.”

“I will answer,” said she.

When she returned: “I am beholden to you, Lady,”I said, “for your too great kindness. But I must notlead you into danger. That would be a poor return. Letme be led to the Count.”

“How say you?” she replied, “would you put your headin the noose? I tell you the Count is bitterly angry withthe Count de Charolois and will hang all his men.”

“I care not,” said I, “I will not see you led into dangerthrough my fault;” so saying, I sought to rise but fellback almost fainting.

“See,” said she, “was I not right? You are unfit togo, and I will not have you go until you are fit!” Hereher eyes flashed and she stamped her little foot fiercely.

I slept but poorly that night and a fierce fever consumedme. In the morning she was much distressed andvowed again I should not be moved. Shortly there cameanother knock and a voice saying:

“You little vixen! What matter if he die of a feveror be hanged?”

“Hanged he may be,” she replied, “and you will, but hemust come to his trial well. And you do force him to it26I shall have your own head sooner or later, and that Ivow!”

“I warn you the King shall hear of this!” he said.

“Let him,” she said, “and let him do his worst. I havecared for many wounded, and I have yet to ask whetherthey be rich or poor, or of high or low degree.”

’Tis said the Count was in awe of his Countess and ofher niece, my nurse. However this may be I know not.I do know that I was not more disturbed that day.

On the morrow I was still feverish having passed buta poor night. In the morning she visited me again, saying:“Fair Sir, I see but one way by which I may saveyou from that murderer at the Castle. He is my uncle,and were you but husband of mine he dare not touchyou. Have you a mind to wed?”

Verily, this I had not thought of, but the thought leftme warm and not cold. And yet I must hesitate for hersake. I dare not lest she regret. So I said:

“Truly, my Lady, the honor you speak of is far beyondmy just deserts. Did I think you truly willing I shouldhurry on the match. But should you regret, nothingwould be left for me but death. Let me therefore diethe death at the hand of this dread Count rather thanyou should grant so great a boon and then repent.”

“Say no more,” said she. “I have said you shall notbe harmed, and by God’s word no harm shall befall you.”27So saying, without more ado, she sent for the priest whosaid mass and married us.

Great was the wrath of the Count, her uncle. Butwhat was done could not be undone. When he was goneshe turned her face to me in shame. “What must youthink of me?” she said.

“If you will but trust me,” said I, “you will see thatI think well of you. Before that you thus sacrificed yourfuture for me I thought you an angel. My life shall bedevoted to winning and keeping your love.”

“How do you know I do not love you now?” said she—andfled.

When our army came up and I was well again she haddisappeared. I saw her no more for months, being detainedfrom pursuing her by the war which came to anend but slowly. After that I had served King Louis atPeronne and had been taken into his service I heardmuch of her, but do what I would, could never come nearher. At last, despairing, I went to the King and confessedmy plight and sought his Majesty’s assistance.“What would you?” said the King.

“Do but let me see her, your Majesty,” said I, “that Imay at least have speech of her.”

“That I will do right gladly,” said he.

About a week thereafter I was sent for to the RoyalCabinet and entering found the King with my wife.28“Did I not promise to bring you together?” said theKing. “Take now thy wife, de Comines and teach herher duty. You may withdraw!”

I offered my hand to my Lady and we withdrew to anantechamber. Here she would fain have left me, but Isaid: “Lady I am your humble slave. Will you notlisten to me?”

“Nay,” said she, “I have said and done unmaidenlythings and I am ashamed. Let me withdraw.”

“Not so,” said I, “your acts were acts only of pitywhich I would fain turn into acts of love if you will onlylisten.”

“Men speak well of you,” said she, “they tell me youare kind of heart and merciful and will spare my shame.But I ask not for pity. I will not be companion to a manwho does not love me without pity, that I may be triumphantand without shame.”

“That you may well be,” said I, “if you will but listen.”

“It is not ears but eyes shall convince me,” said she.

“Set me any task,” said I.

“Nay,” she replied, “let me but see you. Do not pursueme. Let me see you in your daily work. I am to beLady in Waiting to the Queen, and I may see you thus.”

“You are harsh,” said I, “What have I done to betreated so unkindly?”

29“I will not listen,” said she, stopping her ears with herfingers and running away.

For weeks thereafter I was condemned to see her dailybut scarcely to speak to her. The King and Queensought to throw us together but failed because she wouldnot. At last I despaired. I went to the King and askedthat I might be allowed to depart to my estate in Flandersso that I need no longer be on the rack. To this theKing replied: “Do but let me speak to her again!” towhich I gave consent.

The next day I was sent for again to the King’sCabinet, and entering found her again. “Why will younot put an end to this severity?” said the King, turningto her. “The poor fool pines daily. He loses flesh. Hesulks. He is as one distraught. Mend him or break him,but torture him no longer.”

“He is my own husband,” said she, her eyes flashingdefiance.

“Surely,” said the King, “treat him therefore as a manand not as a dog. Now leave me. I am weary of yourquarrel.”

Again we departed; as we reached the anteroom shewhispered: “May I not do as I please with you?”

“You may indeed,” said I, “but trample no longer uponmy heart, I beseech you.”

30“Thou art but a poor fool,” said she, “why not makeme be good since I have loved thee from the first? DoI not love thy eyes and thy curly hair and thy straightback and even thy coat and hat. Surely I love thee, thoublind goose!”—and fled again. But this time I was tooquick. I caught her and I have held her ever since, andwith her good will as she declares and I believe. Shehas been my willing slave and I hers. Hath any manever had a more devoted mate? Did she not visit meeach day I spent in the iron cage at Loches? In rain, infog, in sleet, in sunshine; still she came, and she is mineand I am hers, forever.

Away out in California, near the Nevada line, lies alonely valley. No one lives in this valley very long; it isa very lonesome place. In the winter the thermometergoes down below freezing point at night and rises toeighty degrees during the day. This is the pleasant timeof year. In the spring and fall violent wind storms sweepover the desert, for it is a desert—the Mohave Desert—andin the summer the hot wind blows, drying up everydrop of moisture and baking the country as if it hadbeen placed in a baker’s oven. The few who must staythere get a leather-like skin from the heated wind andthe glaring sun, with never a cloud to hide its pitilessrays. Sagebrush and greasewood are found here andthere, and in the infrequent river bottoms a few willowsare seen. Fissure springs, from deep faults in the earth’scrust let out small streams of water from sources farremote; sometimes fit to drink; sometimes loaded withsalts in solution and sometimes hot. Such a spring isthat which gives rise to Willow Creek which rises amongthe niter hills of the Great Basin and empties into theAmargosa River a short distance below its source. Alasfor the name! The Amargosa “River” turns out on examinationto be a stream scarce large enough to turn amill. After a run of less than 25 miles it sinks into thesands to rise no more. Shortly below this place we find32Saratoga Springs and “Lakes.” These “Lakes” are perhaps10 feet in diameter. All along the banks of theAmargosa the water as it evaporates rapidly in thisthirsty land leaves a white crust of salt, soda and borax.In many places, scattered over the desert, deposits ofmixed salts have been left by evaporated water whichglisten in the sun from a distance. As the weary travelerwalks through them the alkali rises in fine white cloudsburning throat and nostril and biting the skin into sores.

Over this desert roams the dismal coyote—alwayshungry, anIshmaelite. Kangaroo rats swarm in rockyspots; the side-winder threads his snaky way; and lizardsand tarantulas scuttle to their holes to escape the traveler.

In 1849 the Bennett family wandered into this valleyand perished, giving to the valley its name. All along thewagon tracks—for there are no roads—bottles, tin cansand the skeletons of abandoned animals mark the progressof civilization and the survival of the fittest. It isa weary land; over 400 feet below sea level; boundedby the black rocks of the Funeral Range on the northeast,the Kingston Range on the north, the ShadowMountains on the southeast, the Avawatz Mountains onthe south and the Telescope Range on the west. Thesemountains rise in some places to a height of 10,000 feet.The springs are far apart, from 30 to 90 miles, often witha very small flow and hard to find. At Cave Wells, for33example, the traveler in search of water goes into a holein the side of a cliff and descends a few steps to themargin of a shallow pool with no apparent overflow.

“When does your uncle come for you, Jack?” saidher friend.

“To-morrow morning,” Jack replied.

Next morning her friend was getting breakfast whena knock sounded on the door. When the door wasopened, a wiry, pale-faced man stood in front of her.

“Where is Jack’s kid?” he enquired.

“Upstairs in bed,” was the reply.

Without a word he brushed by her, mounted the stairs,opened the door, bent over the half-awakened girl, puthis arms around her and kissed her.

“Is your name Jack, too?” he enquired. “You are amighty nice-looking boy and I will love you and lookafter you for his sake. Now I must go. We will leavefor the west at 10 to-morrow morning. I am ordered tothe desert to spend the winter there in the out of doorsfor the sake of my health. Get yourself a corduroysuit with high-laced boots. Here is some money. I willbe here for you at nine-thirty. Good bye till then!” Sosaying, he turned, rushed down the stairs and out of thehouse.

34“Did you ever see such a whirlwind?” said Jacqueline.“He thinks I am a boy, and he will be disappointedand not let me go. What shall I do?”

“Go as a boy,” said her friend. “You are slim and caneasily pass as a boy. I will help you get ready. Comealong!”

Next morning when Uncle appeared Jack was ready,dressed in corduroy knickers, stout, high-laced shoes,short, thick corduroy coat and felt hat.

“Well, come along!” said Uncle, “We have just timeto make the train.”

At Salt Lake City they outfitted for the desert. Fiveburros were bought, two for riding and three for packing.Jack’s burro was called Jenny. Jenny was a cannyanimal. She grunted at every step. Her progress mightin some measure be likened to that of a drove of pigs,except that her grunts lacked the solidity and convictionwhich characterize the grunt of the real porker. Mexicois the real land of the burro. Here they are used to suchan extent as freighters as to threaten the existence ofthe railroads. The Mexican will load his burros to theirfull capacity and at the stopping places let them graze.No food is provided except what they can pick up. Ifthere should be no food and the animal starves he buysanother since this is the cheapest plan.

35They carried a light rifle and two Colt’s revolvers, or“Guns” as they are called in the west. There was a tent,two blankets, a bucket, a frying pan, two large canteens,a spade, pick, axe, plenty of coffee and tea, canned bakedbeans, hard bread, bacon, butter and lard, some flour andfeed for the burros.

Neither one could bake or shoot but Uncle remarkedthat there would be time enough to learn and plenty ofteachers. Notwithstanding his quick and sometimesalmost rough manner, Jack soon discovered that Unclewas growing fond of her and was really very kind. Atfirst she was very tired as night drew near after a hardday’s riding over the rough trails. They went slowly ofnecessity, for the burro is not a fast goer and dislikeshurry to an extreme. As the days went by she foundher strength growing. He, too, appeared to benefit.They ate plain food, drank nothing but water, andcoffee or tea, and retired early and slept soundly. Occasionallythey stopped at a settlement, ate a square meal,renewed supplies, had a bath and made ready for anothertrip.

In this way the winter passed rapidly. Jack learnedto shoot, and, profiting from the directions of a good-naturedminer, after several failures, they learned tomake fair bread.

36Jack’s greatest trouble was her cowardice, because shefelt sure her Uncle would detest in a boy what he mightcondone knowing her to be a girl. She made desperateefforts and finally succeeded in controlling her fearsmoderately well. The dislike she had for shooting wasnever overcome.

Most of all she enjoyed the evenings by the camp firewhen the exertions of the day had not been so great asto compel early hours. Here she looked into his heartand found it clean and good.

There were plenty of indications that all the men onemight meet were not of his kind. Bottles innumerableleft along the way testified to the fact that though thedesert might be dry the travelers were not.

They traveled down the post road from Milford toDelmar and from there struck across country, intendingto cross the Hiko, Paranaga and Belted Ranges andstrike the Amargosa Desert to the south. These rangescover a very rough and broken country, and progresswas slow and difficult. Several times they were lost,and only the compass finally enabled them to escape fromthe mountain tangle. The greatest difficulty was in thesupply of water for the burros. Their own supply couldeasily be carried. Several times the burros were savedfrom death by the finding of one or two barrel cactus37which were cut up and fed to them as both food anddrink.

With all his good nature Uncle made her toe the mark.He did not believe in spoiling boys. They were generallylazy and he was determined Jack should do her fullshare of the work, but he did not always remember this.Being naturally lazy she resented being driven. Shemuch preferred to lie around and read, or to lie abed andsee him get breakfast, but he usually routed her out. Hewas anxious that she should grow strong and made herwork in order that she might do so but uncomplaininglyand as a matter of course he shouldered the heaviest partof the load. It may be imagined, therefore, that herregard for Uncle grew greater day by day. There wasbread to make and he made it; the water grew short andhe went without; the burros strayed and he went afterthem,—not grudgingly but without complaint. She hadheard of him through her father’s talks many and manya time. She had learned of his goodness to her father;and here he was, unselfishly giving to her all he couldgive, freely and as a matter of course. Such conductmakes a friend of any generous-minded soul. It slowlyconverted her regard into devotion. She began to lookfor opportunities to serve him. To do anything for himbecame a joy.

38They were nearing the Amargosa and were sitting atthe camp fire one evening when he said: “Jack, you arethe very nicest boy I ever knew. I thought your fatherwas the finest man on earth but I have lost him forever.I have found you instead. I am selfish and I would liketo have you both; but, oh, my dear boy! I am so gladto have found you.” Jack said nothing but she turnedher face to conceal the tears.

They had been many days on the road. That afternoonthey crossed the Funeral Range into Death Valley.The rocks of this range are black, rough, crumbly andforbidding. It is a bad climbing ground for the rocks arerotten and afford very insecure support. As they wereslowly and painfully groping their way down into thevalley a rock upon which he was standing gave way andhe came sliding down in an avalanche of stones and dirt.She saw at a glance that he was headed for a precipiceand without hesitating a second threw herself in the way.He was stopped but she slid many feet, turning overand over and landed against another rock, just on theedge of the precipice, covered with stones and dirt.Hastily he tore the spade from the pack, rushed downand uncovered her. Her coat was torn and her shirt inrags. She was unconscious as he laid her on the groundand cleaned the dirt from hands and face and gave her39water to drink. Slowly she came out of the daze to findhim anxiously bending over her.

“Were you hurt?” said she.

“No,” he replied, “see whether any of your bones arebroken.”

They camped at Saratoga Springs and from theretraveled by easy stages to Daggett and thence to LosAngeles. All the way he was quiet, and she viewed himwith apprehension. On the way east he sat beside her inthe Pullman.

“Why did you not tell me you were a woman?” saidhe.

“I was afraid you would not take me, and I wanted togo.”

“Well, it’s too bad. I suppose now I must send youoff to live withsome one else.”

“Please don’t do that Uncle, I couldn’t bear it.”

“What can I do then? Get my sister to live with us?”

“Why yes, I suppose so. There are evil tongues. Wemust have some one.”

His sister saw at once that she must play the rôle ofhuckleberry, and felt no great eagerness, but good-naturedlyconsented at last, firmly resolved to aid fateas much as possible so that she might go back to her ownwork.

40The play began with taking them to the theatre twicea week when sister was careful that Jack should sit nextto brother. It continued by taking them to the countryfor the summer. Then they came back to the city againand missed the long walks and the pleasant companionshipof the afternoons with nothing to do but exchangeideas. Then Uncle was called to Chicago on businessfor a week. This lengthened to two weeks. On returninghe was so glad to see her that he kissed her and sheimpulsively returned the kiss and fled. How could alonesome bachelor long resist such a combination ofyouth, beauty and love. There was a quiet wedding soonin which two hearts as well as two hands were united.They are not lovers, they are chums. He knows herthoughts and she his—they like each other.

When I was in college one of my professors was arather old man who was fond of telling about histravels. He told me about several trips he had taken.Some of these stories were very interesting, for he hadgone into many places outside the tourist’s ordinaryroutes in order to study subjects in which he was particularlyinterested. One of these trips was a visit toRome. It was taken to attend a Congress of Chemiststhat assembled there in the Palace of Justice, or Palazzode Giustitia as the Italians call it, located on the rightbank of the Tiber near the Castel deSt. Angelo. Hisdaughter, a beautiful girl of 21, accompanied him on thetrip. They traveled on the Red Star Line to Vlissingen,or Flushing, and up the Scheldt to Antwerp.

The Congress was held in term time and he waslimited to an absence of six weeks. There were twothings which he particularly wished to see during thistime. One of them was the iron mines of Elba. Theores found in these mines are hematites and contain someof the finest crystals of hematite that have ever beendiscovered. Elba was also, you will remember, the homeof Bonaparte after he had been expelled from France forthe first time. Here he ruled in petty state from thefifth of May, 1814, to the twenty sixth of February, 1815.

42The second, and indeed the chief, object of his tripwas to see the boracic acidsoffioni at Lardrello. Here,it had been stated, jets of steam break forth from theearth in which small amounts of boracic acid are contained.This steam is carried into water, the boracic acidcondensed with the steam, and the dilute solution thusobtained evaporated at a low temperature so as not toagain volatilize it. Ammonia and sulfureted hydrogenare also present and considerable amounts of ammoniumsulfate come into commerce from this source. Thesestatements which were so varied in character as to causesome suspicion of exaggeration had aroused his curiosity,only to be completely satisfied byfirst-hand informationsuch as could be best obtained by a visit.

From Antwerp they traveled to Brussels and fromthere to Rome by express, by way of Milan. They expectedto find it warm in Italy and left their heavy clothingat Antwerp to await their return. They traveledthrough the Italian Alps, however, and suffered from thecold until Rome was reached. The journey fromBrussels was begun in the evening and the second nightwas passed on the way from Milan to Rome. No seatstogether were to be had in the train from Milan. Thedaughter found a good seat in the compartment reservedfor women where there was room also for her fatherand where he joined her. Whenever the conductor came43around he remonstrated with the Professor; but as thelatter was comfortably established this was met by a stareof no comprehension and the slipping of a lira into theconductor’s hand which ended the argument until thenext conductor came around when the process must berepeated. It was, however, uniformly successful.

They approached Rome on the afternoon of a beautifulday in May. The whole surroundings were picturesquein the extreme. Black masses of masonry perchedupon the hilltops, marking the sites of cities and towns,spoke eloquently of the reign of lawlessness only justpassing away. They passed remains of tombs andcaverns excavated in the hillsides—the marks of pastcivilizations. Everywhere, inside and outside of Rome,were foundations of buildings of the oldest masonry uponwhich a second structure had been erected, to be inturn destroyed and serve as the foundation of anothererection, but still leaving visible remains. This was thecountry and these the places where Julius and AugustusCaesar lived and reigned, where Cicero spoke, whereCataline conspired, over which Hannibal roamed at willand where Fabian tactics were born. This was the landof the two Plinies, of Scipio the conqueror of Carthage,of Dante and Virgil; the sense of its antiquity grew andbecame overpowering.

44They thought Italy the most beautiful country theyhad ever seen, “Why,” said the Professor, “As wetraveled along I sawNarcissus Poeticus growing in thefields.”

They stopped at the Royal Hotel and were visited bya valet who proposed that he should take care of themduring their stay, to which they assented. They occupiedthree rooms, two bedrooms and a sitting room. In thesitting room of a morning breakfast was prepared by thevalet while they were dressing. Then they sat down tobreakfast, the valet waiting on them. Lunch was serveddownstairs, but dinner was the great event of hotel life.The guests were expected to be on time but if delayedthey murmured a perfunctory excuse to the Major Domowhich was smilingly accepted. The cooking here waselevated to the dignity of a fine art. It was marvelousand sometimes spectacular; as when at the conclusion ofa meal an ice was placed in a dish and this in anotherlarger dish held high upon the waiter’s outstretched hand,came in surrounded by blue flames, produced by pouringa little strong liquor into the outer vessel and settingfire to it. Upon another evening, after dinner, the guestswere entertained with a very wonderful musical performancecarried out by two men and a woman, the lattera very beautiful and accomplished Italian. It soon dawnsupon the traveler that the modern Italian is descended45from widely differing tribes, few of whom even lookalike. Those we know best are swarthy, with black hairand wonderful eyes. There are many types beside this,and not a few light skins and blue eyes.

The Congress was divided into sections. The presidingofficer of each section had been selected because of hisaccomplishments as a linguist. This was necessary, becausethere were four official languages in which papersmight be presented and discussed: Italian, French, Germanand English. Two of the presiding officers wereGermans: Georg Lunge, an accomplished technicalchemist, who had been petted until his sense of proportionhad been lost and he had become arrogant, andWilhelm Ostwald, an equally accomplished and muchmore learned man and a great physical chemist, who wasalways polite and never was able to forget that he was agentleman, first. But the sessions were found uninterestingby comparison. Rome itself was so absorbing.They soon gave up the sessions entirely and devoted alltheir time to exploring the city. The first trip was tothe Colosseum. Here they secured a guide—quite anold man, with an English all his own—who declared that:“He was a Roman citizen and p-r-r-r-oud of it.” TheProfessor did not blame him in the least for this feeling.The old man proved to be a wonderful mine of information,most of it apparently accurate. He explained how46the naval battles and other water scenes were managed,how the crowds were protected from the sun and fromrains, how the various orders of Romans came in andreached their seats, and showed them the dens wherewild beasts were kept. In answer to a question as tohow the stones of the amphitheatre were joined withoutmortar, he took them to a place where a brokencorner showed the method of joining by means of a shortiron rod leaded into both stones. While they were talkingand the Professor was sketching he turned his headand found a policeman with sword and musket overlookingthe performance, and especially the sketching,which it seemed was forbidden. But the guide set themat ease by remarking, pointing to thepoliceman: “a friend ofmine.”

Another afternoon was devoted to the famous ForumRomanum, the scene of so many speeches and so manytriumphs, and, especially remembered, the speech ofAntony over Caesar’s dead body, reported by Shakespeare,and repeated and varied in interpretation by somany of the masters of the tragic art.

A third excursion was to the catacombs on the AppianWay. They were greeted here by a priestly-lookingcrowd of men one of whom enquired, pointing at them:“English?” Answered in the affirmative they weremotioned aside until enough English had accumulated47to make up a party and the burly and not over cleanguide led them around. The catacombs were disappointing.The galleries are narrow, tortuous and unattractive.The remains of the art of that period though no doubtinteresting as showing how art arose decayed and died,were not interesting to a modern. The conclusion wasstill more unattractive; for, on trying to find their conveyancethey discovered that it had disappeared and theymust find their way back afoot. But it was evening;they were walking over the road so many conquerorshad trodden; under the soft Roman twilight with themonuments of the great dead on both sides of the way;they were glad the driver had fled and left them to walk.

One day was stolen for a swift excursion to Naplesto see the museum. Here they stopped at Bertolini’sHotel, which is situated on the side of a hill far abovethe city level, with a splendid view. This is reached bygoing through a doorway into a tunnel at the end ofwhich is a lift. At the top a splendid hotel with thissuperb view of the bay and of Vesuvius.

There was not time for a thorough examination of thetreasures of the museum, but enough was seen to verifyand enlarge some statements the Professor had made ina history he was then writing. The examples of metalworking were very illuminating, showing as they did insome magnificent examples from Pompeii how little48modern art excelled the art of that day except in speedand cheapness of working.

Returning to Rome they discovered that the trip toElba and to Lardrello had been abandoned because of astrike among the employes on the railway and steamboat;but the Professor declared that he had come to see Lardrelloand he would walk there if necessary. The nextday they started for Pisa. Most of the route lay alongthe rocky coast of the Mediterranean through the mostbeautiful scenery in the world. The road runs along ashelf on the rocks with many tunnels. And the smoke!Ah, the smoke! Oh, the smoke! It gets into the eyes,the nose, the mouth, the ears, over the face and down theback. There is no avoiding it and no escape is possible.They arrived at Pisa about 11 P. M. and were met atthe hotel by the proprietor with the question: “Youwould like a room?” “Yes, two rooms.” A shrug, andthen: “I do not know what I shall do; we have but tworooms; one has three beds and the other four beds.”

“The answer is easy,” said the Professor, “My daughterwill take the room with three beds, I will take theroom with four beds.” When they were escorted tothe rooms by the proprietor, the head porter, the maidand the facchini or porters and the doors were openedon the overflowing hospitality of seven beds for two49travelers, a hearty laugh broke from every throat; alaugh is the same in all languages.

Pisa is not very inspiring. The famous leaning towerleans because the foundations were poor, and theBaptisteryis built of old tombstones and other stolen piecesof marble from which the thieves had not decency enoughto chisel away the inscriptions. This thievery seemsto have been a habit in the days which we see throughthe fogs of romance.

The next day they turned back and retraced theirsteps for part of the way to Cecina where they transferredto the road to Volterra. This town is situated onthe frowning heights above the railway station, where acrowd of people; drivers, porters and others was assembled.The Professor accosted a hack driver in English.To this there was no reply but a shrug of theshoulders. Then he tried German, French and Latin insuccession, all in vain. As they were about giving upin despair a voice from behind them, or from Heaven,said: “You would like to go to Lardrello? You are interestedin boracic acid?”

“I have come all the way from America to see it,” saidthe Professor, “so you may judge whether I am interested.”Introductions followed and cards were exchanged.Their friend was Prince Conti, son-in-law ofCount Lardrello and the manager of the works. He50told the driver what was required; gave him instructionswhere to take the travelers for the night and what theywould like to eat and promised to meet them at theworks next day. He too, it seemed, had been attendingthe Congress and was just returning.

They traveled over a beautiful country covered witholive orchards, with pale yellowish-green foliage, to acountry inn. Here everything was primitive and old-fashionedto the last degree, butclean. There were tilefloors and the beds were of wrought iron in filagree,—beautifulpieces of workmanship.

Next morning they reached the works in a desolatevalley over which clouds of steam hovered. They weremet and welcomed by the Prince who apologized for notbeing able to open the Palace for them as the family wereaway and the servants dispersed for the summer.

The naturalsoffioni, they discovered, had failed to givea sufficient yield and were now supplemented by wellssunk as are petroleum wells in Pennsylvania. One ofthe new developments had been the striking of steam ata pressure of sixty pounds in some of the wells. Thesewells were capped and the steam led through a boiler containinga purifying agent to remove the sulfureted hydrogen,after which it was used to run a steam engine whichin turn actuated mills to grind the boracic acid and boraxproduced. After going through the works the Prince51was good enough to present the young lady with abouquet of flowers and they said good-bye. The use ofsteam from Mother Earth to run a steam engine was,the Professor said, an entirely new idea not used, so faras he knew, anywhere else in the world, and suggesteda possible method of keeping alive in those times we maypossibly expect as our fuels disappear. It may then benecessary to drive deep wells to tap the supply of heatnow lying far below the surface in most places and onlyreaching through the crust in a few.

I am a very ordinary person with some rather remarkableacquaintances. It is my purpose to give here someaccount of these men and women—for they are of bothsexes—and incidentally to describe some of the remarkablediscoveries they have made.

It was my good fortune to become well acquaintedwith several of these personages—for they are remarkableenough to be so called—while I was a student in amid-western college for both sexes. Being a man ofsufficient means and a bachelor with a taste for scientificstudies, I have had leisure to attend many scientific conventions;and here I have been able to make the acquaintanceof many other persons of brain power and industrysufficient to lead them to eminence. I flatter myself thatI have, by reason of an agreeable personality, obtainedan unusual knowledge of the work they have accomplished.I will admit that some of these men and womenhave a very limited supply of polished manners, and oneor two are almost without any of the qualifications necessaryin a member of polite society.—But this will developas the story progresses.

I first met Samuel Zahn as a fellow freshman. Hiswas a most engaging personality, for he is kind, wittyand brainy. He took the lead in the class from the first53day in college and was the most popular member. Needlessto say he was at once chosen President of the class,and President he remains to this day. He is over sixfeet tall, with large limbs and a big head; since leavingcollege he has gained weight and improved in appearance.I visited him at his home in a large western cityfive years ago and we spent several days together, talkingfar into the nights; and during this time he had muchto say about various phases of his work in biology, ofwhich he is an enthusiastic student.

“Why is it Brown,” he enquired, “that all living beingsmust grow old and die? This is true of all plantsand all animals. There must be some chemical reasonfor this universal fact.

“Before following out my line of reasoning, Brown,perhaps I should first recall your attention to the methodof scientific discovery. We are accustomed, as you areaware, when traveling into new ground to form first anhypothesis as an explanation of the facts known to us.Beginning with this hypothesis, we first reason out theconsequences which must follow if the hypothesis shouldbe the real explanation. We then proceed to test theseconsequences by experiment. We then reason out othernecessary consequences of the hypothesis and proceedfurther with our tests. If the results of our tests confirm54the hypothesis it presently becomes a theory and incourse of time a law.

“I have formed a great many hypotheses to account forthe ageing of plants and animals, but under the test ofexperiment these have all broken down one after another.Recently, however, it occurred to me that perhaps theageing might be due to the formation of resinous substancesin the tissues by the combination of two substancesone contained in the food the other in the tissues.You will remember that the insoluble resin, bakelite, isformed by the union of an aldehyde and a phenolunder suitable temperature conditions. If, now, the aldehydelike body formed part of the tissue, and the phenolwere contained in the food and passed unchanged intothe circulation, we should have slow combination andthe formation of hard material—perhaps also materialin the form of fibers and therefore flexible—within thetissues, which would cause them to harden and stiffen,inducing the other changes we ascribe to old age.

“If now these phenol bodies are contained in the plantand animal juices constituting our foods they must becontained in those that are short lived in largest amount,and it should be possible to bring on old age much morerapidly by feeding short lived plants. For this purposeI used first oat straw, but I found this did not producethe desired effect. On further consideration it seemed55unlikely that it should: for the ripe, and therefore dead,straw would contain only the resin and neither aldehydenor phenol. I therefore used green oat straw and foundthat this brought on old age rapidly when fed to dairycows with no other food. I then tried various additionsto the green oat straw with the object of finding somesubstance capable of uniting with and destroying thephenol. This I have at last succeeded in finding; andI am now in possession of a reagent which will so fardestroy any of these phenols contained in food, that oldage is indefinitely arrested. This as you will see places adreadful responsibility in my hands. This is not theSecret of Perpetual Youth exactly, for I cannot so farrestore youth to the aged—I can only arrest decay. Byfeeding this antidote to a baby it may remain a baby forever.Or it may be allowed to reach any desired age andthen forced to cease developing indefinitely. I will confessto you that I feel dismayed by this heavy responsibility.What do you think I should do? What is myduty?”

“This is such an extraordinary story, Zahn,” I replied,“that I think, in fairness, you should first givesome proof that you are not in error in thinking your discoverya real one; and since considerable time mustnecessarily pass before any satisfactory demonstration of56this kind can be made perhaps we had better not furtherdiscuss the matter at present.”

“Spoken with your usual clearheadedness,” he rejoined.“I must confess, however to a certain amountof disappointment in your lack of faith in accepting myconclusions.”

To this I made no rejoinder, thinking that the less thesubject was discussed the better.

He then informed me that he had invited two friendsto lunch with us. “I am much interested in them,” hesaid, “because I believe they are much interested in eachother. They are very interesting people, and I wantyou to know them.”

Shortly before one they arrived. The man was approximatelyabout fifty years of age and rather above themedium height; he was well-built and walked like asoldier. His hair was only slightly gray; his nose wasstraight and well-formed. There was about him a certainair of gentility, and his manner was pleasant and courteous.The lady was at least twenty years younger. Shewas the most beautiful creature I had ever met, and hermanner was alert and full of charm. They came in together,and there was no possibility of doubting theirinterest in each other. But they were both so genuinelyinterested in their host and in me that this mutual understandingseemed pleasant to both of us. He was introduced57as John Valient, a successful lawyer and she asHelen Henderson.

At table we were waited on by Mrs. Frains, Sam’shousekeeper, a dear, motherly old lady with white hair,kind eyes and a fair complexion. Sam introduced her tous, and treated her as in every way an equal. MissHenderson sat at his right, Valient at his left and I opposite.

During the meal Sam informed us that he had recentlygiven some attention to nutrition and had come to theconclusion that condiments played a much more importantrôle than had hitherto been assigned to them. Hehad studied these therefore with some attention and hadcompounded one which he thought we would find veryagreeable. He proceeded to extract a bottle from anear by closet; from a medicine dropper inserted throughthe cork he dropped a single drop upon our fish.

“It is very strong,” he remarked, “and more than asingle drop would be too much. If you wish I will givea bottle of it to each one of you provided you willpromise to use a single drop at each meal until it is allused. According to my calculations this will take alittle over nine years, for there are 500 cubic centimetersin the bottle and each cubic centimeter is equal to twentydrops.”

58After eating the fish, which was delicious, we readilypromised and received each a bottle. I may remark herethat I became very fond of the relish, and now, after thelapse of five years, the bottle is nearly half full, thusshowing how accurate were his calculations.

“I wish,” said Miss Henderson to Zahn, “that youwould tell Mr. Brown about your agricultural catalysts.I think this a very entertaining story.”

“Why certainly,” he replied, “I shall be delighted.”

“You must know, Brown,” he said, addressing me,“that there are a large number of chemical substanceswhich are called catalysts. I can best illustrate what thismeans by giving two examples. If potassium chlorate beheated it melts and begins to give off bubbles of oxygengas. If, however, we first pulverize the chlorate andadd to it a mere pinch of very finely powdered manganesedioxid and mix the two very thoroughly and thenheat the mixture, oxygen will again come off but at solow a temperature that the chlorate does not even melt,and much more rapidly.

“In the manufacture of ‘Crisco’ and other lard substitutesfrom liquid oils by pumping hydrogen throughthe oil in closed vessels, so long as only these two substancesare present no combination takes place and thepressure increases. But if a small amount of finely divided59nickel be added combination at once begins, themelting point of the oil rises and the pressure falls.

“We once supposed that many chemical substancesfound in minute amount in the ashes of plants were notof importance, but it has lately been asserted that this isnot true and that manganese in particular plays an importantpart in plant economy, acting as a catalyst. Ihave verified this fact and have proceeded to examine theaction of different manganese compounds in order to determinewhich is most active. The acetate functions well,the hydrosol better but colloidal manganese is by farthe best. In any considerable amount this acts as aviolent poison but in homeopathic doses it functions as avigorous stimulant. Using this reagent as a hypodermicI have obtained astonishing results. I have one stalk ofIndian corn on my farm treated in this way which measuresforty feet in height and has seven ears, each overa foot long and perfectly set, with grains well on towardripeness. Watermelons the size of hogsheads are readilyproduced and we have canteloupes, cucumbers and tomatoesas large as nail kegs. I have used the kohl rabifor several years as a source of winter forage for mycattle, slicing them before feeding. Treated in this wayheads as large as barrels are readily grown, as much asforty tons per acre being an ordinary yield. I have inconsequence been able to quadruple the size of my herd60without devoting more acreage to the growing of forage.I have not entirely succeeded in increasing the oat andwheat crop because of the difficulties in the way of successfulwholesale hypodermic injection. I have made asomewhat promising beginning, however, by successfullyinoculating chrysanthemum with the aid of the aphiswhich preys on them. You know that this aphis puncturesthe outer cuticle with his proboscis and drinks thesap. Acting on this knowledge I have first sprayed theaphis with a dilute colloidal manganese and dried themrapidly with a current of warm air. The colloid adheresto the outside of their beaks and gently stimulates. Whenthe beak is inserted the plant at once is inoculated. Theaphis is then destroyed by the application of whale oilsoap or other appropriate insecticide and the plant developsto an enormous size producing blossoms as largeas a lady’s summer straw hat. They are indeed marvelous.

“I have also begun some experiments upon animalsbut the effect here seems to be even more poisonous.Another idea has, however, occurred to me which givespromise of a very great success. You know that caffeinis a mild stimulant to the human race, and acting on thislead I have tried a number of stimulants, winding upwith virulent poisons. One of these containing arseniccombined with strychnine, cocaine and selenium has been61injected into calves from my herd which are now, at sixweeks, as large as their mothers. Unfortunately thisgrowth has been accompanied by the development of adisagreeable odor which makes them unpleasant neighbors.I fear I shall be forced to find a substitute for theselenium in order to avoid this but I have no doubt offinal success.”

During this recital any conversation had become impossible;in fact we were reduced to a state of coma andwalked from the table like well-trained somnambulistswithout uttering a word.

In the evening I accompanied Zahn to a lecture he wasto deliver before the Society of Facultative Anaerobists.It appeared that these people had associated themselvesfor the purpose of further studying those organismswhich develop either in an atmosphere of oxygen or ofone devoid of it. In the latter case they decompose somesubstance contained in the solution and assimilate theoxygen it contains. The lecture was to be delivered atthe society headquarters over a grocery store. The entrancewas on a side street in the rear. There was alight over the entrance and the hall was gained by mountinga steep pair of stairs. We found the assembledanaerobistsbusily at work under the chairmanship of a lankyindividual in corduroy trousers. Upon our entrance theproceedings were at once suspended to allow the lecture62to proceed. Zahn was escorted to the platform withmuch deference and began as follows:

“Fellow Truthseekers:—It is with some hesitationthat I venture to appear before you to make my smallcontribution to your proceedings. I am well aware ofthe labors of some members of this illustrious society,and feel considerable diffidence in appearing before you.I shall confine my remarks to two themes: The first willbe a contribution to the technology of inoculation. I havehad considerable experience of the difficulty and dangerof inoculating savage animals, and the first part of mypaper merely describes the technique which I have foundsuccessful in such cases. I have here an inconspicuousgun which enables us to effect inoculation at a distanceand with ease and certainty. The projectile consists ofa hollow needle with two sheet metal flanges surroundingit acting like a piston in the cylinder of the gun. Theinoculating liquid is sucked into the needle by its capillarity.On inserting a metal sphere filled with liquefiedcarbon dioxid into this cylinder and pressing this trigger,a needle penetrates the capsule, liberates the carbondioxid, which instantly is converted into gas and drivesthe projectile from the gun. The needle has sufficientforce to penetrate the skin until the first of the flanges isreached. This instantly stops it and the shock forces theliquid into the wound. The outside of the needle should63first be coated with an antiseptic to prevent the entranceof skin bacteria.”

This contribution was greeted with great applause andthe gun was seized by a female with a black eye whichshe declared had been due to the hoof of a mule—fortunatelyunshod. After the confusion had partly subsidedthe chairman rapped for order and Zahn proceededto read his second paper:

“You are of course aware,” he began, “that during theworld war the supply of glycerin became insufficient andthat it was discovered that the addition of some sodiumsulfite to a sugar solution which was seeded with theyeast plant altered the direction of the fermentation andcaused the formation of large amounts of glycerin—sometimesas much as 30 per cent of the product. Nocareful study of the effect of this addition upon the yeastplant itself seems to have been made. I have now takenup this study and have reached some startling conclusions.Such organisms so produced seem to have lostmany of their original characteristics. Ordinarysaccharomycescerevisae, for example, grown under theseabnormal conditions will no longer produce normal yeastfermentation. The progeny of the original cells break,and we have the same sort of variation that is ordinarilyobtained in raising plants from seed. By varying thenature of the disturbing substance; that is by replacing64the sodium sulfite by other reagents, I have succeeded inproducing still other modifications which have interestingproperties economically important.

“On this slide, which we will now project by the lantern,we have a photograph of an organism capable ofturning waste molasses into ethyl chloride which is muchused as a local anaesthetic and may be used instead ofether. It is necessary to add sufficient salt to the solutionto supply the chlorin and the sodium remains behind assodium carbonate supplying that necessary product of thechemical industry at a price defying competition.

“Here we have the photograph of another modifiedorganism capable of absorbing carbon dioxid from mixedgases containing it and building up starch in sunlightmuch after the manner of chlorophyl in the plant. Thesynthetic starch so produced differs in no particular fromthat found in plants and is obtained in large amountvery cheaply from the waste gases given off by ourstoves and furnaces. The supply of such material is verylarge and the starchy food that in this way may becomeavailable destroys at once all possibility of future famineand all necessity of raising wheat, oats, barley, potatoesor other starchy foods. I hope before long to be able toannounce the discovery of other forms able to producealbumen and other proteids directly from the atmospheric65nitrogen, so as to solve for all time the possibility offuture starvation.”

This paper was greeted by cheering and immense enthusiasm.The chairman in proposing a vote of thankssaid that the society had now amply justified the hopesof its founders and that this would long be marked as ared letter day in its history.

I walked home with Zahn tired with so many wonders.The next morning I overslept and was late for my trainso that there was no opportunity for any further conversation.I have not seen my host since that time untillast week. I then made a singular and most distressingdiscovery.

I had noticed that most of my shirts were frayed at thewristbands. I needed some new shirts and proceeded toselect them. Judge my surprise when I discovered thatmy old friend Zahn was waiting on me! I of courseaccosted him by name, only to be met by a blank stareand a firm denial of acquaintance. He assured me that hisname was Smith and that he knew no one by the name ofZahn. I asked for the proprietor of the store and toldhim my story only to be greeted by an incredulous stare.The proprietor assured me that Smith came to the storeunder that name with fine recommendations from previousemployers, and that they had no doubt whatever66that he was as represented. I can only suppose thatZahn had lost his mind through overstudy and with ithis memory. I have noticed that neither I myself noreither of the other participants in that famous lunch,now five years ago, appears a day older, and I am dreadingthe exhaustion of my bottle and the slow onset of oldage.

Samuel Jones was an energetic as well as a very carefulyoung man. He had inherited a small sum of moneyfrom his father. It was his purpose to use so much ofthis as was necessary in completing his education; the remainderwas to be carefully invested as a nest egg forthe reserve he intended to create which he spoke andthought of as The Dam. The idea back of this namewas that if the Dam were big enough and were full itwould keep the mill going for some time should thesprings run dry.

Sam was careful in other ways also. He laid carefulplans each morning so that no time need be wasted.If the day was cool he put on a heavy suit; if cloudy hewore rubbers and carried an umbrella. If the temperaturerose suddenly after such a beginning and the sunshone brightly, he had at least done his part and this consoledhim for the suffering he must endure. This dispositionsubjected Sam to the ridicule of his unmarriedsister, Tilly, who acted as his housekeeper. Tilly was ofa very different build. No one ventured to call Tillycareful—she was conspicuously careless. She had apretty foot and loved to buy new shoes, but she oftendressed in a hurry, and her shoes, having been discardedin a hurry, were not readily matched. In consequence,68she sometimes appeared at breakfast with a shoe uponthe right foot and a slipper on the left. This improprietyfilled Sam with anguish. Perhaps this differencein disposition was one of the reasons for their affection,for they were very fond of each other and they led avery happy life.

Sam had a poor opinion of college men. Part of thislow rating was no doubt prejudice and part was due tothe fact that he was not a college man himself. He sawvery clearly, however, that many college men acquireonly a fine polish. The process fails to get enough painton the rough wood of the foundation to hide the coarsegrain which shows through in all its crudity. He hadalso taken note of his own rather brusque manner, andlaid it, correctly, to the lack of those opportunities whichcome to the college man unsought. Anxious to repairthis defect he became precise and a trifle stilted. ThisTilly was not slow to notice and criticize. Tilly lovedcollege boys and their ways. She listened with attentionto their songs and was up on all their pranks. Theirescapades amused her and she forgave their faults. Sheknew them well for they lived in a college town.

Back of all Sam’s spur to action was a love of chemistry.He became enamoured of it in High School whereSteele’s Fourteen Weeks was the text-book. Beginningby pouring vinegar on baking soda in his mother’s69kitchen, he had managed to study carefully a good manychemical substances so that his knowledge was muchbroader and deeper than that obtained by most collegestudents. As the lumberman notices all the straighttrees large enough for sawing so Sam tagged all objectswith formulae. Water was H₂O; vinegar C₂H₄O₂;Cream of tartar (CHOH COOH, CHOH COOK); andsugar C₁₂H₂₂O₁₁. After the death of their mother Samhad fitted up a laboratory in the attic and hung out theshingle of an analytical chemist. The income obtainedin this way being too small he conceived the idea of addingto it by the concoction of various specialties, andJones’ Talcum Powder, Jones’ Velvet Cream and Jones’Tooth Paste made their appearance on the shelves ofneighboring druggists and were spoken of in terms ofpraise by those who had used them. These had beensupplemented by various perfumes which found favorwith the weaker sex and became the foundations of abusiness which was steadily increasing. Into this sceneof happiness and peaceful prosperity Fate dropped severalbombs.

Bomb the First

Sam and Tilly loved the movies. They formed a backgroundof romance to their prosaic lives. They read,eagerly, all they could find in print about the stars of70moviedom and were well acquainted with the features ofthe prominent actors. Twice a week they attended,rain or shine. As this involved long walks in bad weatherthey had, with the dawn of prosperity, invested in a Ford.

It was a windy night in October. There was a threatof rain in the air as the sullen clouds drifted past overthe moon. As they returned to the car, which had beenleft in a side street, a tiny muffled wail greeted them:“Gracious! it’s a cat,” said Tilly. “Good Lord! it’s ababy!” It was wrapped in an old, frayed, woolenblanket. They took it home—what else could they do?—andTilly unwrapped it in her warm room. It was cleanand warm and dry, and its clothing, though of theplainest material and somewhat worn, was also clean.Tilly declared it was a darling. She sent Sam for abottle and some of the best milk, fed the child andcovered her warmly in a large arm chair which waspushed against the bed so that she might hear the littleone move in the night. Tilly declared the little girl hadaristocratic features. She fell violently in love with herand declared she would not give her up. Sam smiled andagreed. He seldom opposed Tilly, though he felt somewhatdoubtful of the propriety of keeping the baby. Thelittle one grew apace. She soon became the central sunof the household about which Sam and Tilly revolved—twoobedient satellites.

71The household duties soon became too great for Tilly,and Elizabeth Tillicum was sent for. Elizabeth was aNew Jersey product, redolent of the hills that border theDelaware. Her hair was sandy—the color of New Jerseysand. Her eyes were blue—the color of the blue waterof the Atlantic which rolls over the New Jersey sandbeaches, though this water is often green; and herfreckles were—just plain brown freckles. I am not sayingElizabeth was beautiful—she was not. She agreedwith everyone; she was quite unable to contradict; indeedher acquiescence was almost slavish. In size she wasopulent. It seemed doubtful when she sat down whethersome portion of her anatomy might not spill over on thefloor but this never actually happened. With all herdisposition to conciliate she persisted in moving slowly,and all the alleged work that she performed was performedat a uniform slow speed. Some critics averredthat she did not work—she lolloped. They said that whenshe did do work it was so poorly done that it must firstbe undone and then done over again. However this maybe, Elizabeth steadfastly, slowly and pleasantly pushedher way through the world. But she was not a bomb,she was not even a torpedo.

Very few people can be reformed by preaching at them,object lessons are more effective. Her own carelessnesswas well known to Tilly and made her secretly admire72Sam’s precision and half despise Elizabeth’s sloppy work.The coming of the baby brought a change. Tilly read upon the care of babies in a volume entitled “The Feedingand Care of Children.” This learned work explainedthe overwhelming importance of cleanliness. It detailedthe various minute bugs which lurk in the air, waterand soil ready to seize and carry off the unsuspectingchild. From a heedless maiden, Tilly was rapidly transformedinto the veriest martinet, watching for the leastspeck of impurity to pounce upon and destroy it. Everythingthe baby ate was sterilized, and the bottles, spoonsand plates scalded assiduously. Toward this campaignof cleanliness the baby herself manifested a cynical indifference.She threw the bottle on the floor. She drewher spoon through her hair, and after crawling throughall the dirt attainable, rubbed her grimy hands over herhalf-cleared plate and then thrust the chubby paws downher throat. Such behaviour wasanathema maranathaand filled Tilly with despair.

Sam was at first far from being charmed by the dirtand disorder which the child insisted upon, but she soonvanquished him. Her velvet skin, lovely color and wideopen smile would have melted a stone, and Sam soonbecame her slave. In return she manifested an ardentpreference for his society; crowed when he came home,howled when he left, insisted on sitting in his lap, thrust73her fingers into his eyes, nose and ears, pulled his hairand showed not the slightest regard for his privacy orthe ordinary courtesies of life. Sam was reformed inspite of himself. For the sake of peace he put up withrumpled hair, moist and slimy kisses and greasy fingerprintson his coat. Such is the mollifying disciplinebabies hand around in humanizing their elders.

The naming of the baby had been a dreadful ordeal,and nearly ended in a rupture between Sam and Tilly.

“We do not know her name,” said Sam, “so we hadbetter give her one which is merely descriptive; thenwhen her real name is divulged there will be less temptationto ignore it. I propose to call her Monday OctoberJones until we discover her real name. This is descriptiveof the day of the week and the month she came tous.”

“She shall have no such barbarous name,” said Tilly.“You may as well call her Man Friday at once. I willnot have any such name. She is going to have a prettyname. Monday October Jones: the idea! I shall callher Arma:

Don’t you remember that pretty verse Jimmy Casesings?”

74Tilly’s words had an air of finality. She had been abit uncertain herself until Sam put in an oar. Therewas another rhyme which sang through her consciousnessmaking her undecided. It was:

that she had heard the college boys sing. But on thewhole she inclined toward Arma, for Gaudeamus did notsound like a female. So the baby was named ArmaVirumque Jones.

Arma was a romantic little soul. She thirsted for theunusual and wonderful. As she grew to girlhood sheinvested those dear to her with imaginary virtues. Tillywas a lovely and stately lady and Sam the personificationof all that was noble and good. She was a beautifulgirl, with curly brown hair and a clean mind. With hertwelfth birthday began her affairs of the heart. Herfirst flame was a beautiful Italian boy who dwelt in anold house in the alley. This flame was quenched whenshe encountered him after he had consumed a largerration of garlic than was usual. The next conflagrationwas started by the grocer’s boy, but this was quenchedwhen she overheard him swear. This was followed bya passion for a young and rather dull divine who neverdreamed of his conquest, so that it died of inanition.

The three were sitting in the living room one eveningin June. Sam and Tilly were reading and Arma wasgetting out her lessons, when a resounding knock on thedoor was heard, and a great big, strong, jolly man burstin, shook hands with Sam and noisily proclaimed howglad he was to see “this darn old fraud” once more.

Sam’s face lighted with pleasure as he welcomed himand introduced him as “Billy Gesundheit, my old friendand comrade in Pittsburgh.”

“My word, what a name!” thought Tilly, “But what afine looking man. He seems too good to be true.” Thiswas during her trip upstairs to inspect the guest roomwhere he was to spend the night.

Sam had lived two years in the smokehouse city aschemist to a young struggling steel plant. Before heleft this puny infant industry had begun putting on theseven league boots of manhood. At this time Gesundheitwas a hearty young workman to whom Sam took afancy. This was vigorously reciprocated; Sam wascarried off to Billy’s home and introduced to his widowedmother who was a wonderful housekeeper. She becameinterested in Sam at once—for was he not a friend ofher Billy?—sewed on his buttons, darned his socks, andwound up by taking complete possession. Sam soon76moved into their spare room and, as the homely phrasehas it, “she ate him and slept him.”

Billy informed them that he had risen in rank considerablysince Sam’s departure and was now acting asmanager of the works. He had come to New York onbusiness and must soon leave for home; he expected tomake frequent visits, however, and here he looked atTilly, and he would not fail to visit them as often as possible.He also informed them that to-morrow was aholiday for them; he was to take entire charge, manageall details and pay all expenses; all they need do was toenjoy themselves as much as possible.

After breakfast next morning Billy produced a map ofthe city for each member of the party. “A taxicab iscoming at eight,” he began, “to take us to the place whereour excursion starts. I’m going to walk part of the way;the rest of you may do so or ride, just as you please.”

“Where are we going?” said Tilly.

“We are going to circumnavigate the city,” said Billy.“I doubt whether you know your own town. Most peopledo not. If we first go around it, and then go through allthe streets and alleys you will know it on the outside atleast. After we get through we will quiz one anotheron the names of the streets and alleys and their location.It is good fun and has a use beside.”

77For about a mile the city line ran along the middle of ahighway. It was not a well paved highway. There werestones, tin cans and piles of rubbish to be dodged. Thenthe line led through an orchard. Here Billy got out, invitingthe others to go with him, but only Tilly acceptedthe invitation. The others followed the road, agreeingto wait for the pedestrians at a point further along, whilethe foot passengers gracefully climbed the fence. Theyhad not gone more than a few hundred feet among thetrees, which were old and decayed, before they caughtsight of a house ahead. Sitting on the back porch in ahickory rocking chair was an ancient lady, clad in calico,rocking gently to and fro while knitting a pair of socks.As the travelers drew near, she looked up and said:

“I’m knitting these socks for my son. He don’t likewool next his skin, so I use cotton, but I have an awfultime getting the right kind of thread. If the thread istoo coarse, he says they look like gunny bags and if itis too fine the socks are not warm enough. He is verypertickler, my son is. Maybe you know him; his name isWinterbottom; first name Jeremiah, after his father.He’s well known in Wilmington. Don’t you know him?”

“No,” said Billy, sitting down on the edge of the porchand making room for Tilly beside him, “I don’t know himbut I hear he is a very fine man. I hope you will tell usmore about him. What is his business?”

78“Making flat irons. What’s yours?”

“I make iron and steel.”

“I don’t see then why you don’t know him. You gota nice lookin wife.”

“Thank you, I think so too,” said Billy, while Tillyblushed.

“Why did you let her think we were married?” saidTilly, after they had left the old lady behind.

“Well I kinda wish we were, and I hoped she only hadthe news a little ahead of time.”

“You are certainly a fast worker.”

“Sure, I no sooner saw you than I picked you. I canalways make up my mind quickly, and I’m after youfrom now on.”

This made Tilly laugh, but she did not seem displeased.

They picnicked in a grove near the edge of town andthen finished the circuit. Then they navigated all thestreets and alleys and returned home to quiz one anotherall that evening. They were all surprised to find howmuch they had learned about the city.

Billy’s visits followed one another in quick succession.He knew his own mind, as he had said, and Tilly’s inclinedto him more and more. When Sam awoke to thestate of affairs he knew the second bomb had fallen andmight burst at any minute.

Arma’s first loves were merely fancies. Having nosubstantial foundation they died as soon as born. Samand Tilly had made no secret of her origin and she wasspared a shock when she learned it of those pests ofsociety whom, like the poor and Congress, we havealways with us. She was a great reader and devouredall the books she could obtain. Among these was CharlotteBronte’s story of “The Professor.” With the readingof this story a new point of view dawned upon her.She had before this looked upon Sam as immeasurablyolder and belonging to a disappearing age. But it appearedthat a difference of ages was not so important asshe had imagined, indeed might be an advantage frommany points of view. Her previous flames had beenboys, except for the divine, and he was a man of no perception—notworth considering. Besides, Sam hadmoney—almost always a consideration with girls, whoare nearly always full of worldly wisdom. Sam had becomea possibility. As she studied him further he becamea probability. She grew shy and a trifle coquettish.But Sam for a long time took no notice. He was absorbedin other matters.

Arma was, of course, very much interested in Tilly’slove affair as it developed. She viewed it with much80favor. The same worldly wisdom which told her thatSam was desirable from a matrimonial point of view,told her also that if Tilly should go to Pittsburgh Sammust more fully depend upon her. She became interestedin cooking and studied all Sam’s needs. Tilly was studyingBilly at the same time. Arma secretly began to resentany interference with Sam—he was her property. Shepampered him like a born mother—which she was.

Gradually but unconsciously Arma revealed her newset of ideas to Tilly who was not lacking in perception;but Tilly made no sign—she was relieved. For Sam’swelfare was dear to her, and here were other hands totake up the tasks she must lay down. She became Arma’sco-conspirator, gradually resigning to her the primacyin Sam’s affairs which she had hitherto kept as her own.

As Arma became absorbed in Sam, she began to manifestan interest in his work and asked many questions.It was pleasant to teach a pupil so bright, so much interestedand so beautiful—for Sam could not help butnotice her beauty. There were others who saw it also.The young men began to call and she was not annoyed atfirst; but few of them interested her very long. Theyknew so little. One day she betrayed herself. One ofthese boys had bored her for an hour before he departedand she met Sam in the passage.

“Well, has he gone?” said Sam.

81“Yes, he has,” she replied, “and I am so glad, I likeyou much better.” And these words were accompaniedby a look which would have awakened and galvanizedan anchorite, and then she blushed a rosy red and fled.

There are really two bombs in this chapter. Arma’sbomb was a copy of “The Professor,” Sam’s bomb wasthe look Arma gave him when she blushed.

Bomb the Fourth and Last

It came the next morning while Arma was concoctinga tapioca pudding—one of Sam’s favorites. There wasa ring at the front door and a well-dressed lady enteredand asked: “Does Samuel Jones live here?”

“Yes,” said Arma.

“Are you the little girl they found in their auto?”

“Yes,” said Arma, wonderingly.

“Then I am your mother.”

“Why did you give me away?”

“Your father deserted me and I was penniless. I havebeen poor ever since until quite recently, too poor toclaim you. An uncle in California died last month andleft me his money. I have been out settling his estateand I am just back. I want you to go with me.”

“No,” said Arma, “I cannot go with you but I can seeyou very often, and I am so glad I have a mother to love.”Then they fell into each others arms in tears.

82When Arma told her story at lunch the others gasped.She continued: “I think I must go to her.” Then Samgasped: “My God! I’ll be all alone. Get her to comehere, Arma, I can’t bear to have you go.”

Now wasn’t Arma a sly puss? And she did not go,Sam went to her. He told her how much he loved her.She listened sagely and said: “yes, she liked him prettywell. She thought she might like to stay with him.” Andshe did. And after awhile Sam discovered that she hadbeen madly in love with him all the time—but he did notdiscover this for a long time, she was a woman and didnot tell all she knew for awhile. She grew more fondof Sam every day and now she tells him everything—almost.

This story was told by lame Lewellyn Sangster to hisaunt Margaret, uncle Fred, cousin Anita and Sam thehired man.

Nan Heberlein and Lula Manting were fast friends.They were fond of meeting at each others’ homes andpretending to sew; sometimes they did sew; sometimesthey promptly adjourned and went to the movies; sometimesthey called in their lady friends who were of thesame order of busy, and played 500, or bridge, or someother game; but always they talked; and laughed; andate. They were not singular people: they fitly representedthe average American lady who does most of herown work, feeds and dresses her children and sends themto school, and in the afternoon finds an hour or more torelax.

Nan was tall and slim, Lula was getting plump—atleast so her friends called it; her unfriends said she waspursey. But no one was so conscious of her too greatrotundity as Lula herself. It was constantly in the backof her mind and frequently in a front pew. She liked todiscuss it with her friends and her husband—complainingly,anxiously, plaintively, contemplatively, suggestivelyand in various other ways. Jake listened andgrunted; sometimes he forgot to listen and grunt while84his mind was dwelling on the quantity of sugar, ormolasses, or something else needed in the store. Sheoccasionally noted this lack of attention on Jake’s partbut did not really resent it, for, she thought; if hedoesn’t pay much attention to it he probably still likesme all right. But if he should notice much, or if it shouldincrease, I must certainly do something. But this something,what should it be? What method must be adopted?She consulted the doctor on his next visit. That muchharassed and suffering servant of humanity suggestedmore exercise and careful avoidance of fat and sugar inthe diet. He also suggested that it would be well to eatvery sparingly and always leave the table hungry. Thisgave her something to do, and she straightway began acourse of sprouts with herself. It was a sore trial toeat too little, but she did it. Was it not worth somethingto retain Jake’s admiration and desolation to lose it?

This whole matter was duly discussed and thoroughlyconsidered, forwards, backwards and sideways, when sheand Nan next met. After which Nan trotted outhertrouble. It was necessary, she said, that she shouldgain weight. Tom had commented on her slimness, comparedher to a rail and several other articles more notedfor length than breadth. Nan only weighed 115. Sheshouldweigh at least 140. How could she increase herweight? Lula had been reading up about such matters85in a book recommended by Dr. Dash, and she would seewhat he said and report.

This was done and Nan was recommended to eatplenty of raw eggs every day. A dozen a day wouldnot be too many. If she could not afford so many eatas many as she thought she could afford; and drink lotsof milk. If this would not make her fat nothing would.It was necessary, too, to take lots of exercise. Thedoctors say that exercise is necessary to health, andwhether you are to get thin or fat exercise is of first importance.

After two weeks of self denial and exercise to excess,as she thought, Lula, who had weighed 160, found hernet reduced to 155. This seemed to her hard lines. Thegame was not worth the candle. But she persevered andat the end of two weeks more had fallen to 150. Thiswas encouraging, but she began to fear she would notbe able to hold out forever. She was so desperatelyhungry! Her dreams began to be haunted by lusciousfeasts. She woke up in the night, ravenous. She toldJake that if she were not desperately fond of him shewould bite him. At this, Jake only grunted. The worstdeprivation was candy. She was extravagantly fond ofit, but the doctor sternly forbade it. Candy, fat andsugar, as well as starchy foods were to be eschewed;even potatoes were forbidden.

86Nan, on the contrary, had eaten raw eggs and milkuntil she gagged every time she undertook to eat a rawegg in milk. Lula suggested using a little brandy to givea flavor, but this soon palled. She did manage to reach118 but halted there. Lula halted, too, on the downwardpath, at 150. No amount of fasting or exercise seemedto avail. About this time she discovered that her skinwas getting wrinkled and that, worst of all, wrinkleswere forming on her face. After much consultation itwas decided that a visit to a beauty doctor might possiblyremedy this. Instead of one visit several were required.All this time her appetite was growing mightier andmightier. Finally she fell. They had been shopping together.She had seen candy displayed until she wasreckless. In this mood, after leaving Nan, she hurriedinto a candy shop with the air of a criminal, bought andate half a pound. Nothing serious happened immediately,so in a few days she bought and ate again—clandestinely.Made reckless by lack of immediate resultsshe resumed her old habits and presently foundher weight increasing rapidly—more rapidly than it hadgone down.

Nan had become discouraged. She felt well—betterthan she had felt for a long time. She had, in fact, beforethis been eating too little. Too many meals had been87passed with nothing eaten but tea and toast—now shewas really nourished for the first time in years.

About this time she heard some one remark that yeastwas a very fattening food, and that she herself had puton twenty pounds by eating a cake daily for three months.So Nan bought a cake and ate it with many qualms. Itwas certainly not very agreeable to the taste. She persevered,however, and after two weeks discovered thatshe was indeed gaining. In fact she began to get fat.Slowly but steadily she put on weight until she becamealarmed. She was obliged to buy an entire new outfitand although she stopped the yeast cakes she still swelled.Now in despair she began, like Lula, to diet.

But imagine if you can all the discussions, the visitsto and fro, the consultations without end to which thesefluctuations led. In mercy I have not recounted them—butthey took place.

Lula did her own washing, rolled on the floor everymorning, practised calisthenics. Wonderful to relate,she began to lose flesh steadily; her skin wrinkled andher color faded. She became alarmed and consulted thedoctor who failed to find anything wrong. Now Lulais desperately trying to lay on flesh while Nan is just asdeterminedly reducing.

88“I never realized before,” said Lewellyn, “what anawful thing it must be to be a woman.”

“It is indeed piteous,” said Sam. “The poor thingshave to wear skirts; they are not allowed to put theirfeet on the table or spit tobacco juice on the stove. Butthen they are freely allowed to do the washing and suchlight work as taking care of ten or twelve children.”

“You must remember the disabilities she suffers,” saidFred. “She is not allowed to go to war, nor is she expectedto haul out manure in the hot weather. When thetime comes for putting in wheat I know of nothing moreenjoyable than hauling out manure and spreading it onthe field. The smell is appetizing, and like most perfume,it clings. The flies are active and make the horses playful.I seldom enjoy life so much as then; and it worriesme that the dear ladies are not privileged to participate.”

“Sam is right,” said Anita, “The women are privilegedto bring up the children. They bear the brunt of theirchildish impatience, recklessness and disobedience. Theystay up with them nights when they are sick and theyare expected to be patient and long suffering with husbandsand children when they can scarcely drag one footafter the other. Ihave known of cases,” she continued,“where the women hauled coal out of the cellars habitually,89and cases are known where women plow, haulmanure, clean out dirty stables and help in the field. Idon’t really think the women need complain that theirwork is lacking either in quality, quantity or variety.”

Woozy opened his eyes for the first time and lookedup. There was a little boy, and in his hand was asaucer in which was some white stuff. The boy smiled athim. Woozy was interested in the white stuff; it lookedgood. He licked some with his tongue. It tasted goodbut it was very cold. Woozy licked it again but prettysoon his tongue got so cold he would have to stop lickingfor awhile. But he went on licking and after awhileit was all gone and the dish was licked clean. Then helooked up at the boy and said: “Woof!” But it wasa very small woof, for Woozy was a very small, round,roly poly puppy. He said woof, three or four times butthe boy only smiled for he had no more of the whitestuff. He would have given more to Woozy if he hadhad it but he could not give more if he did not have it.

Pretty soon the door opened and a monstrous big dogcame in. She went over and tried to lick the boy’s face.Then she laid down beside him. Then the boy took a ballof cord and rolled it into a corner and Woozy trottedafter it. He grabbed it and worried it, and growled—frightfully.Pretty soon his mother went over to him,took him by the back of the neck and carried him overto the boy and laid him down, as much as to say:

“I think he is naughty, and you had better make himbehave.” But the boy just smiled and stroked the dogs91with his hand. First he would stroke the mother andthen he would stroke Woozy. The mother would lickhis hand but Woozy pinched it with his sharp little teeth.

Woozy and the boy grew up together. They both gotbigger every day until the boy was nearly as big as hisfather and Woozy nearly as big as his mother. Woozythought the boy was perfect. He followed him everywhere.If you saw the boy anywhere you might knowthat Woozy was around, and if you saw Woozy youmight know that the boy was not far off.

Sometimes they took long walks together in the woods.Woozy would run off among the trees but pretty soon hewould come back to the boy and look up in his face andsay: “woof,” which meant why don’t you come along andhave some fun? Once robbers tried to steal the boy, butWoozy growled and showed his teeth until the robbersran away.

One day the boy was crossing a pasture field. Therewas a cross bull there lying down behind some bushes.When he saw the boy he began pawing the dirt and thenhe ran after him. Woozy grabbed the bull’s tail and heldon till the bull turned around. Then he fell off androlled over and over. The bull ran after him and stuckone horn through his poor body. The boy had climbedover the fence and he screamed and cried with all hismight. Then the bull threw up his head and poor92Woozy’s dead body flew over the fence. Oh, how madthe boy was and how he cried! His mamma said,“Never mind dear, Woozy was willing to give his life foryou.” But the boy was lonely, and he cried as hard ashe could cry when they buried Woozy in the garden.

In a cave on the south side of the mountain thereonce lived a hermit. He was only middle aged but hishair was white. He was kind of manner and speech buthe often sighed as one bereft of hope. He worked forthe farmers round about, who paid him with potatoes orother produce or sometimes with money when they couldspare it. He lived a lonely life on the mountainside withno one to share it. Here he snared rabbits and caughtskunks and foxes and sold their skins. In a space beforethe cave he built a rough cabin which concealed theentrance. To one side of this he built a shack to househis chickens and on the other side he planted apples,pears and peaches. Grapes he shunned as open to misconstruction.He gathered firewood in the forest and noone molested him. The water for drinking and cookingcame from a spring on the mountainside not far from hisdoor.

He was kind to the children and often gave themcandy. The path to and from the schoolhouse led pasthis door and he often saw the school teacher passing.She was a lady who had begun to teach several yearsbefore this story opens. She had been very beautiful asa girl but now some of her fresh complexion had gonewhere the good complexions go, and she was using a94powder puff instead. Her nose was a little sharper andshe was rather more positive in some of her ideas thanshe had been as a young girl. The children alwaysspoke to the hermit and in this way she got to know him.

At Christmas time she had a two-weeks vacation.There was a heavy fall of snow which drifted, so thatall the roads were closed. She said to her mother:

“I wonder how my poor hermit is getting along inthis snow, all alone on the mountainside.”

“It is toobad,” said her mother, who did and saidpretty much as Anna-Bell wished her.

When school opened again she stopped at his house toenquire.

The hermit said he was getting along pretty well, thankyou, but she looked around the room with distaste. Therewas much dirt in the corners, the windows needed cleaningand dirty dishes were standing on the table.

“Don’t you ever go to town?” said she.

“Yes,” he replied, “I am going this afternoon and shallnot get home until after dark.”

She made no reply but a light came into her eyes.After school she hurried to the cottage, pinned a towelaround her and began to sweep and scrub. Then sheclosed the door carefully and went home. When he camehome it seemed more cheerful but he noticed nothingmore. The next morning he only said: “Good Morning,”95though she seemed to expect something more. Thatafternoon on her way home she asked him for a drink ofwater.

Then she said to him: “Where are you from?”

“My home was in New York,” said he.

“What did you do?” she asked.

“I was in the commission business,” he replied, “butI grew ashamed.”

“You deserve a reward,” said she, “choose one!”

“I need a cook,” said he, “come and cook for me assoon as you can learn.”

I used to live in New Jersey when I was young, in aplace called Lopatcong Mills. I was workin in the mills.There was two other fellers workin there with me and wewas about the same age, size and build, as you might say.

One of the fellers was Sam Harkness and the otherEnos Kerber. Enos was all for gittin married. Hewas e’enamost crazy about gals, and I guess he pestered’em some. Anyhow he didn’t seem to get along veryfast gittin married.

I aint very keen about gals myself, and I wasn’t then;but, as I said, Enos liked to be with ’em. He spent mostall his wages buyin ice cream fer ’em. He said he kindaliked to see ’em lickin it up like nice little pussy cats.

“Yes,” I says, “I guess you would like to be a mouse,”says I, “and listen to what they says.”

“No,” says he, “but they use me like the cat woulda mouse.”

Well, he was always talkin about the gals and aboutgittin married ’till I got e’enamost worn out. So oneday I says: “Enos,” says I, “why don’t you advertise?”

“Advertise fer what?” says he.

“Why, fer a wife,” says I.

“Sure,” says he, “where can I do it?”

Sam Harkness and me put our heads together, as youmight say, and we wrote an “ad” like this:

97“Advertiser wants to marrynice-looking girl about 20.Address with photo, Box 28, Phillipsburg, N. J.”

We sent this with $5.00 to a paper in Chicago that wehad seen, and pretty soon Enos began to git letters andphotos. The photos was all good lookin; and to someof the best lookers Enos sent hisn. Now, hisn was whatyou might call a side face, kinda sickly smilin, as if theman that took it had said: “Now look smilin!”

Enos wasn’t a bad looker, himself, nor he wasn’t nobeauty neither.

One day I took the bosses wife to the train; and Iwas standin on the platform, when a middle aged femalecomes up to me and flung her arms around me.

“Hello! Sandy,” says she, “here I am. Aint ye glad?Why,” she says, “you’re better lookin than yer picture.I just tooksuch a fancy to it that I got right on the trainand come right on, and here I am.”

“Who are you lookin fer?” says I, gittin flustered, “Idon’t know nothing about this. What do you mean, anyhow?”

“Young man,” says she, “is this you? and is this yourhandwritin?” so sayin, she pulls out a picture of me anda letter which I had written fer Enos in lead pencil; buthis name was rubbed out and mine signed.

“Well, that’s my picture,” says I, “but that letter’s aforgery, as you might say.”

98Well, she bust out a cryin and a crowd begun to form,so I put her in the wagon and took her to the mill ferdinner. Then I brought her back and put her on thetrain, her crying most of the time. I paid her fare bothways and she said I was real kind and must come to seeher, but I aint been yet.

After the close of the Civil War, from 1865 to amuch later date, a great many men had been soldiers andwere discharged, had grown fond of a wandering lifeand were unable to resist its charms. It was about thistime that the army of tramps gained so many recruitsas to become a great national nuisance. Many of thesemen were still clad, in whole or in part, in army blueuniforms; and some of the army overcoats survivedseveral winters. There were many of these hoboes onthe road, moving from place to place, sometimes afoot,sometimes beating their way on the railroads, where theyfinally became a menace to the trainmen and to the communitiesalong the right of way.

Most of the subsistence of these tramps was liftedfrom the charitable by the process known as “slamminggates.” Not a few of the tramps were very soft spokenwhen men or cross dogs were about but became bold andsaucy when the women folks were alone. The foodgained by begging was supplemented by petty thefts ofchickens, eggs, green corn and other produce and thesnaring of rabbits and other small game.

Just above Milford, New Jersey, the Delaware Riverbreaks through a ridge of New Red Sandstone, forminga cliff of red rock, the color of which is due to peroxid100of iron, facing the south. Along these cliffs there aremany ledges; and in the winter, as the sun beats againstthese ledges, it heats the rocks and creates an atmosphereseveral degrees warmer than that of the surroundingcountry.

On one of these ledges overhanging the railroad, whichfollows the New Jersey shore of the river, a band ofhoboes had established their camp. There had been aheavy fall of snow the night before as two tramps werereleased from the county prison at Flemington wherethey had been spending a sad week breaking stone.

“Better not come this way again,” said the Sheriff ashe released them; “we’ve got your numbers here, andnext time you’ll get a heavy dose.”

“I’m going to head for Milford camp,” said HarvardJim to Deadwood Ike, his companion, “I am getting tiredof Jersey.”

“This here beats cock fightin,” replied Ike. “Everydarn muscle in my body aches to beat the band, and herewe’re turned out in the snow. Lucky we had breakfast.”

All day they plodded doggedly along toward Milford,cold and with wet feet. At noon they had several“hand outs” which fended off starvation, and that nightthey camped in a wood where the bushes sheltered themand their fire. The next day was warmer and the sunshone, melting the snow. They reached the camp with101wet feet, tired and hungry and were greeted with jeersand laughter. The pot was boiling over a wood fire andthey were soon fed and warmed. The ground was bareand not too dry as they hunted a place to rest. Finally,Ike curled down and tried to go to sleep, but was keptawake by an intolerable prickling sensation in his back.This grew worse until it became intolerable.

“Say boys!” said he, “Something’s the matter with myback.” So saying, he started to strip off his coat.

“Wait a minute,” said Harvard Jim, “you have somethinghanging to your coat.” So saying, he pulled it offbut immediately began to dance and swear.

“That’s a cactus,” said another tramp. “I forgot totell you they’re thick around here.”

The best part of an hour was spent in picking spinesfrom their respective hides, and then they once morewent to rest, this time carefully inspecting the premisesto avoid the cactus.

Next morning they started for the Milford Bridge resolvedto quit Jersey forever; but at the bridge they weremet by the toll-keeper who declined to allow them topass without the customary two cents each. This theydid not have but were forced to beg with poor success—plentyto eat but no money. Just at this point they werestopped by the constable who put them under arrest forbegging.

102“Say, friend,” said Harvard Jim, “if you will find usa place where we can saw some wood for a quarter wewill pay our way over the bridge and stay away fromJersey.”

“All right,” said the constable, “I have some woodmyself.”

For two hours they toiled, one with the saw, the otherwith the axe, sawing and splitting a huge pile of firewood,inspected meanwhile by the constable. At the end ofthis time they struck work and were offered ten centseach.

“Have a heart, brother,” said Ike, “that’s no way totreat us.”

“Beat it, or I’ll put you in the jug,” said he, “andnone of your lip, either.”

They were silent until they reached the middle of thebridge; then Ike shook his fist at Jersey and swore furiously.

“Breakin stone, trampin in snow, sleepin on cactus,sawin wood, an cheatin constables. Damn such a State!”

“I suppose you know,” said Sam “that there are a greatmany kinds of steel in the market nowadays, such as highcarbon steel, low carbon steel, manganese steel, tungstensteel, nickel steel....”

“Yes,” said Lewellyn, “and Wildcat oil steal and WallStreet steals....”

“Now, Lewellyn,” said aunt Margaret, “this is Sam’sstory, not yours.”

“All right,” said Lewellyn, “I guess I can stand it ifyou can.”

“There are a great many ways of treating steel, too,”continued Sam, “for giving it desired properties, some ofwhich have been very successful.”

“I knew a fellow in the Bethlehem Steel Companyseveral years ago who was a nut on steel treating. Hesaid that by selecting the proper kind of steel, such asnickel steel or chrome steel or some other sort, it waspossible to get any desired properties if you gave the steelproper heat treatment. He was my roommate for ayear and he talked about this so much that I got all wornout—and mad.

“First I told him that I wanted a steal that could notbe found out but he paid no attention. Then I askedwhether it would be possible to make a steel for springs104that could be pushed down two inches and come backfour. I found I had given him something to think about.He shut up right away and began to think. I couldalways tell when he was thinking by the fishy stare thatcame into his eye; like the eye of a fresh fish that is tendays old.

“He studied on this for nearly a week and I had ablessed rest. I began to hope it would keep him quietforever; but at the end of the week he said he thoughthe could do it. His eyes had lost the fishy stare and asmile spread over his face and stayed there. I forgetwhat the steel was to have in it but I remember it was tocontain molybdenum.

“He went up to Bethlehem the very next day and Isaw no more of him for a week. When he came back hesaid he had been working hard and thought he was onthe track but the darn stuff was brittle. Still he thoughthe might be able to overcome that if he had time enough.I told him he could have all the time that was comingbut he paid no attention. Every time he came backafter that he would sit and stare and the fishy lookwould come back: then he would slap his leg and hurryback to Bethlehem.

“About a month after I had put the idea into his headhe came back one day and said he had the kind of steelI wanted.

105“I told him to make me two coiled springs two incheswide and four inches long, with a steel plate fastenedto either end. One of these plates was to have fourholes in for screws, so it could be fastened to the heelof a shoe. I said that on second thought he had bettermake three springs, so that if one broke we might stillhave enough.

“Yes, he thought that might be wise, because springswere apt to break. When he came back next time hehad a dozen springs in a box. They were beautifullymade and were silver plated, too.

“Then we couldn’t agree at first who should put themon and see how they worked. He said I had started theidea, and it would not be fair that he should have thehonor of first trying them. But I said the idea was notworth much; he had made the right kind of steel and theway to heat treat it; that was two to my one. I wasreally afraid to try the darn things myself, and whenyou hear what happened you won’t wonder.

“We fastened one spring to each of a pair of his shoes.He did not put them on but carried them and woreanother pair to the end of Bushkill Street where weplanned to try them out. There isn’t much traffic there,and we wanted a quiet place for our experiment. Heput on the spring shoes at Green Street and jumped towardsthe river. The first jump was two feet, the second106four, the third eight and the fourth sixteen. By thetime he got to the river he was jumping sixty-four feetat a clip. Then the spring on his left foot broke with aloud crack and he turned half around and struck thewater horizontally at thirty miles an hour. He wentunder and came up a little further on, came around in acircle and shot out on the sand. He was stunned at first,but as soon as he felt a little better he asked me to gethis other shoes and take these off, which I did.

“After that we walked home and he sat thinking forquite awhile. After he came out of this trance he said itseemed easy enough to go, the problem was, how werewe to stop? He thought it would be easy to steer, too,by holding one foot out a little further than the other.We could learn to do that easy enough. The best wayto stop, he thought, would be to have a spring on theend of a stick. By holding this so it would strike theground first it would send you back and then you wouldstop.

“So he got a stick, or rather two sticks—one for eachhand—and put a spring on each. We had our nextjumpin match on the Twelfth Street lot about midnightof a moonlight night. He jumped two feet and cameback four; jumped eight feet and came back sixteen.By the time he was up to sixty-four feet he struck theroof of a house, went through and landed in a bed. It107was lucky he did: he might have been killed if he hadlanded anywhere else. It was a slate roof, and he waspretty badly scratched when he came down in his stockingfeet. He was afraid to keep his shoes on for fearhe might get started again. The man who owned thehouse was with him, looking pretty mad.

“It cost him quite a little to mend the roof and pacifythe man, but he finally got it fixed up. I told him hewanted to be more careful; next time he might land ina bed with some girl or the old woman and that wouldcost him more yet.

“I got so nervous about this time that I moved intoanother room. I was afraid if I went on going out withhim the police might manage to stay awake long enoughto pinch us. The last time I saw him he told me they hadmade some bed springs out of this steel by mistake andsome of them were sent out and used. He heard of aman who had a cot in his summer tent. He came in oneafternoon very tired and threw himself on the cot and thenext thing he knew he flew through the top of the tentfell back and broke through and landed on the floor withan awful jolt. He told me he was sure that steel wouldbe a money maker as soon as he learned how to controlit.”

A college teacher learns much about far away placesif he cares to do so. This knowledge is also very intimateand very accurate. It is the kind of knowledge thatcannot be drawn from books of travel or from encyclopedias.It is first-hand information given by people whohave lived there. It is obtained from his students. Mostof those he is called upon to teach come, probably, fromwithin a radius of fifty or a hundred miles. There is alwaysa sprinkling, however, of boys from far off places.

Rochambeau College always has a few such. I canremember among them several from Japan, from China,India, South America, and one from Siam. We sometimeshear from these boys after they have returned totheir homes and once in a great while we are rich enoughto visit them. What a fuss they make when we do andhow glad they seem to be to see us. I have been somethingof a traveler in a small way and everywhere I havegone, and been able to turn aside to visit the boys, I havemet the most cordial welcome. This is one of the rewardsthat come to the teacher who has tried to do hisbest. Sometimes he comes in contact with people fromdistant lands in strange ways; and it is about one ofthese strange happenings that I am about to tell.

After I had been teaching for several years I marriedSally Lunn, the daughter of a local baker. We had109two sons and a daughter to bless our union. I noticed asthe years passed that my surplus cash was waning ratherthan waxing. This led me to make a careful review ofthe situation. My salary was scarcely opulent and wasnot mounting with great rapidity. It was evident that ifProvidence saw fit to endow us with a continued showerof childish blessings I must either find more income orbreakfast, lunch and dine on corn mush—and I was notfond of mush.

Among my early investments had been the purchaseof a printing press. The outfit was a small one but itwas complete and such as enabled me to make a beginningas a printer in a small way. As I practised the artI became constantly more skilful and could now print avery fair job. This seemed to furnish an opening andI went to work. The venture was moderately successfuland led to a decided, though moderate, increase in myincome. Presently I was able to buy a larger press andmore type and to rent a room in the town in which to installit. Here I employed a competent foreman andbegan my commercial career.

I had written a text book for my pupils in the meantimeand this I printed and published. Then I starteda journal in which my book was advertised, leading toorders from abroad and the influx of manuscripts frommy friends. In a few years I had a prosperous business110on my hands and all my spare time was usefully employed.It soon became necessary to arrange for agentsfor the sale of my publications abroad. This was easilyarranged in London and Tokio but more difficult in otherplaces. I wrote to Secretary of Commerce Hoover forthe name of an agent in Melbourne and he sent me thenames of about fifty firms, dealers in books in thatplace. I immediately aimed at the flock and fired fourletters at random, but brought down no birds. Weeksand months passed on without a response.

I am a late riser by preference and an early one onlyunder compulsion. I was finishing my breakfast at amoderate rate one morning when word came that agentleman had called and was waiting for me. Myvisitor was a middle aged man, plainly dressed in tweedwith a cloth cap. He informed me that he was travelingfor pleasure and had undertaken to go from New Yorkto San Francisco by auto. He had stopped for the nightat our local hotel and in descending a darkstairway hadfallen and broken his arm. He was admitted to thehospital, permitted the setting of the arm and submittedto the necessary delay—for it was impossible to drivewith one arm. He found himself doomed to inaction,for his daily occupation was confined to a visit to thehospital to have his arm dressed, and time hung heavyon his hands. In this dilemma he inquired of Dr. Kuhlmann,111his attendant and one of my old students, whetherthere was not some one else in the place with a taste forscience. Dr. Kuhlmann had referred him to me.

I told Mr. Humphreys that I was very glad to meethim and would do my best to help him pass the timepleasantly during his enforced delay. I found he wasposted on his own country, Australia. He knew somethingabout its geology and about its politics also. Iannounced that we would have an evening together withour professors of geology and economics in a day or two,as soon as it could be arranged. In the meantime I askedhim whether he liked to dance? He said he did, and mywife, who had met him by this time, invited him tospend that very evening with us—we expected someyoung people in to dance and thought it might amusehim. He came and was much liked by the young folks.A few evenings later he came to tea with us and spent theevening with the two professors and their wives. Ofcourse they pumped him for first-hand information andobtained it. We spent a delightful and very profitableevening together.

The next morning I proposed to take him over mypublishing house. We met there and made the rounds.I showed him some of our books and he appeared to bemore than ordinarily interested in them. As he wasleaving he informed me that he was starting for the112West in the morning after. “I don’t see why,” he said,“I might not sell some of your books myself. I am ascientific bookseller in Melbourne, and I shall take greatpleasure in selling as many of your books as I can.”

Contrary to a generally held opinion, there are somewealthy people who may be successfully defended. Thereare not so many of them, however, that any seriousdisturbance need be created. There is, perhaps, somedanger that these may be overlooked in the universaldamnation that is being handed out to the malefactors ofgreat wealth.

The first exception to be noted is that of the inventor.Quite a few of these men have lightened our tasks to avery considerable extent. They have in a few casesamassed a competence by taxing us for their inventionsfor seventeen years. After that their work is free forall, at least in theory. A great many of these men havehad no benefit from their inventions and might well bepensioned from public funds. In not a few cases theprofits that should have gone to them have been filchedby men who had money to lend. Such cases should beoverhauled and the ill-gotten gains of the banker folksrestored to their proper owners. It would be well alsoto give the bankers the spanking they need, thus makingone job of the whole business.

When we think that Whitney, who invented the cottongin; Steinmetz, the electrical wizard; Pupin, who perfectedthe telephone; Edison, Gray, Acheson, Morse,114McCormick and thousands of others, some as well,others less well known belong to this class, we realizehow greatly we are indebted to them, and how cheaplywe get off by allowing them to profit by their inventionsfor seventeen short years.

Then there are some school teachers and college professorswho might be excepted and a few ministers.Some of these fellows married money, and we will notexcept these; some of them inherited money, and wewill not except these; a few of them stole money, andthese must be spanked. After these exceptions havebeen made there will be a few left and they have livedsuch a deuce of a life that we will let them go.

There does not seem to be any great harm in the manwho saved in order that he might keep out of the almshousewhen he grew too old to work. We should nottax these people, either, if they have only moderatemeans. Our wise legislators, however, do not seem tothink so. Many cases of this kind have been heard ofduring and since the late unpleasantness where the poorsouls had a hard time keeping body and spirit togetherafter the tax collector was through with them.

All farmers who have made money should be let off,provided they made money by real farming and not byselling fancy cattle, poultry, etc., at startling prices. Realfarming is a man’s job, and those who succeed at it deserve115to be patted on the back. The fellows who sellthe blooded stock belong in about the same class as thebond salesman—we will come to these later on.

The married couples who bring up and properly educate,say four or more children, are also deserving. Iftheir children are grateful so much the better; if theychip in and support their father and mother—fine! Inthe last case we might safely except everybody concerned.

Of course we must except the lame, the halt and theblind; and perhaps a few others have been unintentionallyskipped, but there seem to be few others. Now wecome to those who need punishment of some kind.

First among these are the office-holders. There area few among them who really earn all they get—butnot many. Office holding ought to be made a dangerousbusiness, and running for the Presidency punished withdeath.

Bankers ought to be periodically inspected and madeto give an account of themselves, so should lawyers,and real-estate agents. The doctors, some of them, needwatching. They are a frightfully jealous lot and outsidetestimony only, can be relied on. If a good one isfound he should be patted on the back. There are a lotof these but most of them live in the country where theair is good. Those who live in the city and have hospitals116where they charge $100.00 for opening a pimpleand $25.00 for giving you four ounces of ether shouldbe heavily docked and then fined.

There are far too many wholesale and retail merchantsand too few farmers. We might well cut out half of themerchants for a start and make them move out on farmswhere they could be really useful. If they commit suicideinstead of farming, so much the better. There arealso too many book agents and bond salesmen andbrokers and clerks in stores. Too many newspapers arepublished and too much paper wasted in doing it. Thisneeds regulating. The best way to do it is to tax thesethings and let the farmers alone for the present, untilthey have $5.00 ahead.

And the fellows who are loafing around waiting fora bonus should be put to a painless death. They willnever be of any real use. The labor agitators and strikeleaders are in the way, too.

Anybody who spends his time loafing or playing golfshould be stopped, questioned and put to work. If herefuses he should be shipped off to an island set apartfor the purpose where he must work or starve.

All such wealthy ones should be treated as indicatedand some of those not wealthy but who belong to thesame classes need much the same treatment.

117While we are about it we may perhaps just as welldo a little more regulating. The Germans, for example,have too many children and the French too few. Weshould take warning and govern ourselves accordingly.Of course some people claim that these things are regulatedby Providence but it seems probable that there areother forces at work. Four children to a family seemsto be about right and it is suggested that a committee, allthe members of which have done their full duty and arefrom Missouri, be appointed to see that there are noslackers. This is a species of wealth that needs regulatingas well as other kinds.

The old maids and old bachelors should be heavilytaxed unless they can satisfy a Missouri committee thatthey have made determined efforts to commit matrimony.In that case they should have assistance.

All would-be voters should be carefully examined beforeit is allowed and the recall and repeal should bein order. Every voter should be able to spell his or hername, tell what rivers run through and by Easton, wherethe Atlantic is situated and what Sing Sing is noted for.After all are educated up to this point, the tests shouldgradually be toughened until only those really fit canvote. They should bemade to vote every time. Gradually,in this way, every man can learn how to milk cows,118husk corn, run a plow and chase the pigs out of theoats. The women will be able to darn stockings, bakebread, sew shirts and run a bridge party.

By the time these ideas are put to work themillenniumwill be close at hand and we need no longer flee from thetax gatherer or hide from the bond salesman.

This story, according to De Comines, was told by theEmperor Frederick III of Germany to an emissary ofKing Louis XI of France who wished him to conspireagainst the Duke of Burgundy to their mutual advantage:

Two ne’er-do-wells living in the interior of Germanyhad patronized the local inn keeper without paying his billuntil the latter became weary. He finally told themthat he would give them no more credit. They soon becamehungry, thirsty and desperate, and consulted togetheras to how they might once more establish theircredit. While engaged in thus scheming their hungerand thirst steadily increased until it became overpowering.Now you must know that the villagers had beengreatly harried by a monstrous big black bear who, fromthe adjoining forest, ravaged their flocks and their gardens.He was especially fond of sheep and almostnightly carried off and devoured them. Nothing was anylonger safe in the village night or day and large rewardswere offered to anyone who would kill him and thussave them from loss. This was known to the two bumswho proceeded to make use of it with the good naturedlandlord. They told him if he would only give themenough to eat and drink to appease their hunger and120thirst they would at once go in search of the bear andproceed to kill him and take off his hide. This, theyassured the inn keeper, was an enormous hide and itssale would yield a large sum which they proposed to usein extinguishing their debt and any future advances hemight see fit to make. This was not all; with the rewardsthey would collect they should become opulent, and theypromised to spend this at his house, so that all thismoney would in the long run come to him alone. Thetavern keeper was of an optimistic turn of mind andlistened to their tale with renewed hope, finally agreeingto do as they asked. The two conspirators, as soon asthey had filled their bellies started out in quest of thebear. Now it happened that bruin had become hungryearlier than usual that evening and that he had startedto forage earlier. After eating several ears of cornwhich he took from a field alongside the road he hurriedalong in the gathering dusk toward the village. Theadventurers were headed in the opposite direction on thesame road and they rapidly drew together. The bearwas the first to detect their approach with a loud Whoof!This startled the bums and frightened them very badly.Without the least delay, the eldest promptly took to atree which, fortunately for him, spread its branches closeby the road. The second loafer was so badly frightenedthat he fell down in a dead faint and lay upon the ground121without motion. Without hesitating the bear trotted upand smelled the man by putting his nose to the latter’sear. Finding no motion, and thinking the man dead, thebear, after taking several sniffs and turning the fellowover with a thrust of its paw, proceeded on its way.After a short time the tree climber descended and ranoff as fast as his legs could carry him. The man whohad fainted presently recovered and proceeded to dolikewise. Seeing his friend scampering along at a greatpace some distance ahead he hailed him and his friendstopped and allowed him to come up. Together theyproceeded toward the town and related their tale to thelandlord, not without much embellishment. The tavernkeeper finally agreed, in consideration of the difficultyof their task, to give a further extension of credit. Butthe tree climber was dissatisfied and proceeded to questionhis fellow bum. “What did the bear ask you,”said he, “when he whispered in your ear?” His matereplied: “He did not whisper to me.”

“Yes he did,” said the first, “he whispered in yourear for some time. Did I not see him do it? Try not todeceive me, it will be in vain.”

Now the faint-hearted one was also a wit and he,therefore, hesitated and finally confessed that somethinghad passed, but declared he was not obliged to divulgeit. This made the first bum angry and he assailed his122fellow with threats and reproaches. But still the latterdeclined to divulge the secret. This led to renewedthreats and finally to blows. The possessor of thesecret was vanquished and finally agreed to tell it to hisfellow, but only in the presence of the landlord and thevillage magistrate. It was also agreed that after tellingthe secret he should be allowed to go free without furthermolestation. To this clause the landlord, whose curiosityhad been aroused, also agreed; further, he promised toprotect the possessor of the secret. These details havingbeen arranged the parties met one morning in the houseof the magistrate. The second vagabond first recited theagreement and having procured the assent of all partiesbegan as follows:

“When Bruin appeared I was frightened and fell in afaint. From this I was awakened by a rough tonguelicking my cheek and a bearish voice whispering in myear. It said: ‘You were to kill me were you not, and totake off my hide and sell it? And you were to collectthe money offered as rewards, and having thus acquiredmuch money you agreed, did you not, to pay the accountof the landlord and stay with him until your money wasexhausted?’

“I was badly frightened and, thinking my time hadcome and resolving to endanger my hope of salvation by123no more lies, I nodded my head in assent. The bear thensaid:

“‘Very well,you are properly punished. As for therascal in the tree the inn keeper has made no agreementwith him such as that he will make with you; and whenyou have escaped his wrath I advise him to clap him injail. In the meantime I will advise you both never infuture to sell the hide of a bear before you have killed it,nor would I collect rewards for its death before thedeath takes place.’ As for the Judge, he is a rascal anyhowand at all times, and is well able to take care of himself.”With this the vagabond darted from the roomand ran up the street pursued by all three who had forgottentheir promises in their resentment. He howevermade good his escape.

Many years ago, shortly after I began teaching atLafayette College, I determined to join The AmericanAssociation for the Advancement of Science. This long-windedname was given by themselves to a collection ofbookworms who every year assembled in some good-sizedcity, after having collected some thousands of dollarsfor expenses of the local merchants, and held asmany as a dozen pow wows in as many different rooms.In one of these rooms a learned discussion on one ormore mathematical questions was kept up during most ofthe hours of daylight; in a second, subjects in physicswere undergoing examination; a third room was occupiedby the chemists, a fourth by the biologists; everywherethere was a sprinkling of “nuts” who were indanger of breaking out and must be sat upon in order notto discredit the serious minded.

The discussions sometimes dropped into a burst of self-admirationby some savant devoted to the holy cause ofscience who was keeping the lamp of knowledge burningin poverty and distress. These wails were occasionallybroken in upon by another wholesome-minded soul, likethe great Cope, who boldly declared that he was not sufferingbut having a good time and could be happy in noother way.

125In the evenings some of us put on our best clothesand attended a garden party given by a local magnatewhere we met the money bags of the neighborhood andfor an hour breathed the unaccustomed air of luxury;or we attended an evening lecture given by some memberof the attending band of scientists in compliment to thehosts; a chosen few assembled at a room where goodbeer was to be had, in ordinary dress, drank a little beerand listened to stories and discussions straight from theshoulder and worth while.

It was in these evening discussions and in daylightvisits to points of geological or other interest that we becameacquainted and learned to enjoy the great weekof the year. It was here that I first met Le Conte, Cope,Major Powell, the one-armed explorer of the Coloradocanyon, Brashear, who made his first lenses from tumblerbottoms and Wiley, the jolly farmer giant,facile princepsamong men.

I believe I first met Wiley at Buffalo in August, 1886.We visited Niagara together as part of a jolly crowdand had a happy day. Nearly every year for many yearsafter I met Wiley at these meetings. I also met himelsewhere. He came to Easton nearly every year forawhile to lecture to my students. The lecture room waslarge enough to hold the audience at first, but as he becamebetter known we moved over to Pardee Hall into126a room large enough to hold the crowd that came toenjoy the treat. Presently the “old man,” as we calledhim, was asked to go to Lehigh whenever he came toLafayette. I always went up with him and listenedagain. His lectures were always new, never twice thesame.

On one occasion he wrote me asking whether he mightspend an extra day with me and I gladly acceded. Werode all day through the hills and woods over Scott’sMountain and had a jolly day. When the attempt topass pure food legislation became strenuous Frear andI conspired in its behalf and carried our point. Whenhe became President of the American Chemical Societyhe chose me as editor and we toiled together at the heavytask. Afterwards I printed and published his great workon Agricultural Chemical Analysis. In all this work andplay he was the kind, indulgent older brother.

For many years he led the lonely imperfect life of abachelor until he had reached the ripe age of 62 whenhis love of many years yielded to his wishes and theywere married. I shall never forget the glad smile on hisface as my wife and I came up to congratulate them andhe realized that we had traveled all the way from Eastonto wish him joy.

Upon a later occasion we visited Washington with alarge party of chemists and, with many others were the127guests of Dr. and Mrs. Wiley at a dinner at the Raleigh.But we had the advantage of most of the other guests,for we were admitted behind the scenes before the dinnercame off. Mrs. Wiley and Nan Pierce, Dr. Wiley’s Secretary,told us about some of the funny things that hadoccurred. Dr. Wiley was away from home and theywere forced to make all the arrangements. They knewonly a few of his friends and succeeded in inviting severaldead people to the feast.

Upon another occasion we were in Washington witha party of Rotarians and the Wileys invited us to dinnerat their home in Ashmead Place. Here we met theWiley boys, Harvey Jr. and John, for the first time,while my wife told us, to our great joy, how, by a seriesof amusing misunderstandings, she had narrowly escapedbeing a guest at one of Mrs. Harding’s private parties.In the evening we attended a literary soiree with Dr.and Mrs. Wiley and greatly enjoyed the papers read andthe chaff that formed a part. It was a real literary treat.

Then we learned that his eyesight was failing andthat he was soon to be operated upon for cataract. Theday of the operation passed and we had no news. Wedare not telegraph for fear the operation had not succeeded.Thus a week passed. At last we learned thathe saw once more though not so well as of old.

128We saw Dr. Wiley again at the Golden Wedding ofDr. and Mrs. W. H. Nichols at Sherry’s last winter.Dr. Wiley seemed well and in good spirits. We saw comparativelylittle of him here because so many of hisfriends were present and each claimed a share of histime.

Several months later a letter arrived telling us thatthe family expected to start for Cambridge, Mass.,shortly, where Wiley was to attend the fiftieth reunionof his class at Harvard. They would arrive in Eastonin the evening by auto and would spend the night withus. I immediately replied that the road up College Hillwas closed for repairs and that they must telephone meon arrival and allow me to join and pilot them.

Accordingly, at 8 P. M. the telephone rang and Mrs.Wiley’s voice announced their arrival. They were dustyand tired and soon after dinner retired to rest.

We have quite a good-sized house but the family islarge and only two extra rooms were available. One ofthese contained a large wooden bedstead heavy andstrong enough to support a hippopotamus; this wasdedicated to Dr. and Mrs. Wiley. The other room hada large brass bedstead which had been used for manyyears. Originally it had been well and strong; but longcontinued use by our four stocky boys as a spring-boardand general exercise ground had weakened our confidence129in its ability to sustain heavy weights. Wethought, however, it would surely sustain the two boys.After they had all retired and it was too late to interfere,from sundry movements and murmurings overhead,it became evident that a readjustment had takenplace and that Dr. Wiley and his huskiest son were inthe weak bed while Nan and the younger boy occupiedthe bed for elephants. We listened in dreadful suspensefor a breakdown. Fortunately none came and the extraweight was safely carried.

For ten days we heard nothing of the Wileys and thenthey drove up on their way home. They had had a wonderfultime at Harvard and on the way home. On theway they stopped at a country hotel and John hadclimbed up to the peak of the roof and was unable toget down. Then he called to his father for help and thathard-hearted parent refused to assist him for some timebut finally relented.

Mrs. Hart had no help in the kitchen and the Doctorthought they had better not stop but I persuaded himotherwise. I said: “We want you to stay. We will letyou help us and will dispense with all frills. I have soarranged that Mrs. Hart shall not be overworked andshall be able to enjoy your visit.” On that understandingthey consented to stay. The next day was Thursday,the meeting day of our Rotary Club, and the Doctor, the130Wiley boys and my own four boys were my guests at theRotary lunch. They made quite an array, and there wasmuch quiet amusement as they filed in and sat down.After the lunch Dr. Wiley was called upon to speak andmade us a short address—such a happy talk as onlyWiley can make.

In the meantime Mrs. Wiley and Dr. Kate De WittMiesse, our family physician and a friend of Mrs. Wiley,and my wife, were dining at the Pomfret Club, guests ofmy wife. Behind the curtains that night I heard thestory from my wife of how her two guests discoursed onwoman’s rights while she sat and listened and enjoyedthe fun.

That night at dinner we had ice cream and cake fordessert, and the boys brought in the towering piece ofcream fresh from the can. It towered above my wifeas she sliced off the portions and finally toppled overon the platter. Mrs. Wiley had been watching it in nervousterror, and as it went over she screamed andshouted: “My soul and body!” much to our amusement.The Doctor informed us that for a moderate surprise shecalled: “My soul!” but great occasions called for: “Mysoul and body!”

The next day was raining and we were not able tovisit the farm as we had planned but spent the day athome resting. The following day was beautiful and we131had an early breakfast that they might be soon on theroad. The topic somehow shifted to the question ofwoman’s rights and the Doctor proceeded to tell us how,in pursuit of these rights, his wife had become a criminaland been hustled to the gaol while her devoted familywere scouring the country to find her.

They had been persecuting Mr. Wilson, he said, andmerited their sad fate but he thought she had no businessto leave three hopeless orphans stranded as she had.We all laughed and almost screamed with delight as thestory proceeded.

After breakfast the Doctor begged us to go part waywith them. They expected to stop at Valley Forge andthey wanted us to go too. We finally agreed to go. AtDoylestown my auto shed a tire and we sent for thegarage man while we lunched in the shade of the trees.It was determined to leave my machine while I was toride with my wife or with the Wileys. Then Mrs.Wiley cornered me and said I must not strike or push alady while the Doctor paid the garage man.

When I tried to get in my wife’s car I found all theboys there; of course they wanted to be together, so Igot in with the Wileys. We drove around Valley ForgePark and enjoyed the beauty of the spot and remindedourselves of the poor soldiers, freezing and starving thewinter away, and proceeded to climb the tower. John132went ahead and reached the very top before his motherspied him and then she once more screamed: “My souland body!”

My boys were very fond of Mrs. Wiley. So was Iuntil I became aware of the disaffection she had stirredup. Previous to this visit my wife had been obedient,as all wives should be, but now she began to speak up.She told us Mrs. Wiley said that every wife who tookcare of her man and his children was self supporting andhad aright to share his wealth if he had any. This isdreadful doctrine as all but the depraved must agree. Iam wondering whether we had better have Mrs. Wileyagain?

In the days of good King Harry the Sixth there wasbitter strife in all the land between the houses of Yorkand Lancaster. The adherents of one house oppressed,robbed and even murdered the adherents of the other.Political hatred grew apace and filled the land with civilwars. Houses were burned, churches were robbed andcattle were lifted. No one was sure of his life or property.Landless men were organized as bands of robbersmaking the highways unsafe. As a direct consequence ofthis waste of life and treasure the French lands won byEdward the Third, his son, the Black Prince, and Harrythe Fifth were rapidly lost by the incapable Duke of Suffolkuntil only Calais and a strip of territory in the southof France remained.

With all his goodness the sixth Henry was but a feebleking, not ruling but ruled by his imperious wife andrugged, warlike barons. These were the days in whichprinting was invented, when armor was becoming uselessbefore the advance of gunpowder and the introductionof firearms. The feudal system had entered upon itsdecay; superstition reigned but Lollardism underWyckliffe had begun to undermine Roman Catholicism.The results of that terrible scourge, The Black Death,which swept Europe in 1347 carrying off a third of the134population, were still felt in the scarcity of labor andhigher wages.

Twenty miles northwest of London in the little townof St. Albans a fire broke out one day in June, 1440, in anold house in Dagnal Lane. It was a poor quarter andthere was a loud outcry as the inhabitants began carryingtheir scanty belongings to safer places. The watchcame clattering down the street with their leather firebuckets and formed a line to the nearest well which wassoon bailed dry. No attempt was made to save theburning house; efforts were confined to keeping the firefrom spreading. Suddenly a woman screamed: “thereare children in the house!”

“Body o’ me,” said Jed Fenchurch to his wife, “gie methy apron!” Wrapping it around his face he dashedthrough the half open door, out of which smoke waspouring and presently emerged, choking, panting andcursing with a child on each arm, both unconscious.

“Thou art surely a brave one,” said his wife, Lisbeth,proudly.

“Pook, woman!” said Jed, “should I let un die? Bodyo’ me!”

But she was busy with the children, washing theirfaces with her apron and giving them water to drink.Presently the children struggled back to consciousness135and began to cry, first the boy, then the girl. He mightbe three years old, but the girl was only a baby.

“I wanth mine nurth,” sobbed the boy.

“He hath no hurt,” said Lisbeth, “but, oh Jed, thy poorhands!”

They were, indeed, badly scorched and painful. Hishair was singed, his eyebrows gone and his ears blisteredbut no serious harm had been suffered. When Lisbethhad attended to his burns she picked up the childrenand carried them to her house hard by.

On the morrow, when the ashes were raked the bonesof a woman were discovered. The landlord of theChecquers said he had let the house but the day beforeto one Mary Smith who had paid a month’s rent in advance.He knew nothing of her nor whence she came.Jed and Lisbeth kept the children; they were childlessand well to do. There was no formal adoption. Thechildren were supposed to be brother and sister. Hesaid his name was Don, which was interpreted as John,and that her name was Banch, which was interpreted asBlanche.

Jed Fenchurch was an armorer, which a writer of thatday has called the least mean of mean occupations. Hisshop at the back of the house, in a building entered by apassage way alongside. Here the children delighted toplay and John helped as he was able as he grew stronger.136Both attended the Abbey school and were well educatedfor those days, when the scholar was a man who couldread and write.

John naturally heard much about feats of arms andwas taught at first hand the uses of arms and armor. Helearned to use the long bow, and as he developed intoyoung manhood, and his arm grew long and his musclestough and strong, he drew his arrows to the nock. Thisweapon was then the arm of most reliance and its development,together with the use of dismounted cavalry,developed by Edward III and the Black Prince, the causeof the English strength.

Neither was Blanche neglected. Her foster mother,Lisbeth, had also been foster mother to the great Earlof Warwick and had learned much of gentle ways in thegreat castle. Many of these she imparted to Blanche,and was much blamed by her gossips for raising thechild in ways above her station.

There came a day when the great Earl visited hisfoster mother. His visit was marked by festivities givenby the holy fathers of the Abbey in his honor, wherebarrels of beer were broached and beeves were roastedwhole. The Earl was a tall, well-built man of handsomepresence and kindly mien, much beloved by gentle andcommon. He first greeted and kissed his old nurse; thechildren were then presented. John’s height and reach137of arm earned his commendation. “I will even take himinto my service, an you wish,” said he.

“Right gladly will he come, your highness,” said Lisbeth,“you are good to your old nurse and her ward;God will reward you.”

“Not so,” said the Earl, “I but find a fine bowman.”

“’Tis a fine deed, natheless, John,” said Lisbeth whenthe Earl had departed, “and but shows the kind heart;but thou art the lucky boy! In all England lives nogreater; and he will watch and guard thee; thou art indeedfortunate. Do I not know and love him?”

“Surely,” said John, “I must do my best, more I cannot.Truly, thou art good to me.”

“Alas, and shall I see thee no more? Wilt thou indeedleave us?” said Blanche, tears filling her eyes.

“Not so, sweetheart,” John replied, “when I go I shallsoon return. How could I forsake thee, silly?”

The summons to arms was not long delayed. Oneevening in early May an express arrived at the Checquersand enquired for Jed Fenchurch. He was directed tothe house on Dagnal Lane and informed Jed that hecame from Warwick with directions to the bowmen,spearmen and men at arms to assemble at Royston andthere await the arrival of the Duke of York and hisown men.

138There were but few Yorkists in St. Albans, but aparty of bowmen, including Jed, John and three otherswere on their way afoot early the next morning, whilethe messenger continued his journey towards London.

“’Tis thretty good mile,” said fat Steve Balderstonein a thin voice, “I mind me when I walked as much ina day with good King Harry the Fift, but I were youngthen and light of foot. Truly the Duke moveth butslowly and we needs must wait at Royston. Why thenshall we go apace?”

“Pook, thou elephant! the duke moveth at the gallopand the Earl also. Tarry not or ye may rue it,” said Jed.“Listen not to this squeaker. Bodyo’ me! we mun goapace.”

“I will blow thee to York with one puff, thou potmender,” squeaked Steve.

“Truly, thou art a fine blower,” said Jed.

“Tarry a bit!” said John to JabezStout in a whisper,“see but the birds.”

And, in truth, over a wood to the right the birds werewheeling as the boys fell back and fitted an arrow to thestring. From the wood three men on horseback droverapidly into the road and galloped toward them.

“They are robbers,” said John, “take thou the one onthe left” and their bows twanged and the arrows whistled.

139Thehorseman on the right was transfixed by John’sshaft which pierced his right shoulder, and he fell fromhis horse which turned and fled. Jabez was not so fortunate;his shaft flew not so truly, but it caught theskin of the left leg of the rider and imbedded itself in thehorse beneath which screamed and lashed out in agony,throwing the rider. The third horseman turned andgalloped away. The rider of the stricken horse crawledinto the bushes from which he was quickly hauled anddespatched, after which the men gathered around theman desperately wounded.

“Mercy! mercy! Sir John,” shrieked the stricken manlooking at John, “Spare me! spare me! I am not fit todie!”

“Thou wilt die, sure enough,” said Steve, “thy rightlung is shot through, but why call him Sir John? ’Tisbut John Fenchurch.”

“’Tis the ghost of Sir John Jernyngan whom I stabbedat Bordeaux. Mercy! mercy!”

“He raves,” said Steve, “get along, John, out of hissight.”

“Leave him with me,” said Jed. “I would speak withhim further.”

“’Tis as he told thee,” said Jed to the dying man whenthey were alone. “It was John Fenchurch.”

140“I tell thee no!” he replied. “’Twas Sir John Jernynganor his ghost. Thinkest thou I know not mine oldenemy who stole my honors and my bride? Did I not seethe old Duke of Warwick knight him at Savignies?”This was followed by a gush of blood as his spirit fled.Jed dragged the body to the roadside, rifled the pocketsand followed the others, deep in thought.

II.In the Forest

They camped with others at Royston until the arrivalof the three Richards: Richard of York, Richard ofWarwick and Richard of Salisbury, on May 20. Twodays later found the Yorkists encamped outside St.Albans, with the Lancastrians in the town. After muchparleying the Yorkists advanced to the attack. TheDuke of York led on one wing, the Earl of Salisbury onthe other, while John was with the Earl of Warwick inthe center. The palisades at this point were old androtten and the ditch dry. They were soon passed andthe defenders driven back or killed.

“Come with me, Jabez,” said John as they advanced,“I know a way.”

“Surely, at the side of the house next the Checquers,the side door at the stairway where we met Rhoda,” saidJabez.

“Aye,” said John, “but go quietly along by the bushesthat we be not seen.”

141But they were seen, and an arrow found lodging inJabez’ breast, who fell, while John reached and passedbehind a projecting buttress that hid a small doorway.This opened on a stair, up which he passed to a windowfronting on Checquers Street where he posted himselfand began shooting at the Lancastrians in the streetbelow. He had been closely followed by numerousarchers and several men at arms. The archers postedthemselves at the other windows while the men at armsbroke into the rooms below, killed those posted there andissued forth into the street from the doorway. PresentlyRichard of Warwick issued forth into the street and ledthe fighting while other Yorkist archers broke into thehouses on the other side of the street and shot from thewindows, all the while shouting: “A Warwick! a Warwick!”Here you saw one fall with his brains dashedout, there another with a broken arm, a third with acut throat and a fourth with a pierced chest, and thewhole street was full of dead corpses.^[1]

As the Lancastrians broke and fled in confusion, Johnremembered Lisbeth and Blanche, unprotected. Therewas his place of duty. Straightway he descended andpushed his way along the crowded road to the house inDagnal Lane in time to head the rabble who, crazed withblood and drink, had begun to sack the town.

142“Come with me!” he called to the frightened pair,bursting in at the door, “but bring warm clothing; wemust even sleep afield this night.” So saying he hurriedlyfilled a basket, caught up some wraps and started northwardtoward an angle of the palisade and ditch.

The flight of the vanquished was in three directions:Northwest toward Dunstable, along Watling Street,North toward Harpenden and southwest toward Watford.

Breaking down some palisades, John helped the womenover the ditch and the three ran toward the shelter ofthe forest. This gained, he helped them climb into thearms of an ancient beech, where they lay concealed whilethe pursued and pursuers thundered by down the roadon either side, and a scattering few stole through theunderbrush below and around them.

As the night fell it grew colder, and Blanche crept intohis arms, laid her head confidingly against his shoulderand slept. The sleep of all three was, however, somewhatbroken by the noises made by the peasantry searchingwith torches for the bodies of the slain.

In the morning, all danger having passed, John helpedthe women down and the three returned to their homewhich was in great disorder and bare of everything ofvalue. It was a sad homecoming for the women, but itwas useless to repine, so they set to work to clean the143house and put it in order. John was informed that theEarl of Warwick desired his immediate attendance. “Isit true,” the Earl demanded, “that you led the archersup the stairway?”

“Yes, your Lordship,” said John, “I knew of the doorand the stairway of old.”

“It was a great deed and shall not be forgotten, choosethy reward!”

“To serve your Lordship,” said John.

“Well said,” returned the Earl, “thou shalt be mypage.”

“An your Lordship please, I would first bury JabezShort who was killed beside me.”

“So do,” replied the Earl, “I will send for thee anon.”

John encountered Jed on his return; “do thou lookafter the women folk,” said Jed, “I must straight toLondon with the Earl.”

That morning the Duke of Norfolk marched into St.Albans with 6,000 men and the army started for Londonwith the wounded King, who had been struck on theneck with an arrow.

Several days passed by before Jed could reach theEarl who was much engaged. In the meantime he wasable to reach the Countess, Anne Beauchamp, who wasthe daughter of Richard Beauchamp, the former Duke,144and sister of Henry, Duke of Warwick, from whom shehad inherited.

The Countess informed Jed that she remembered SirJohn Jernyngan, who was still living and well. He wasa fine, upstanding man, tall, straight, with dark, somewhatcurly hair and blue eyes. She remembered wellhow her father, who was the very flower of chivalry, anda gallant soldier, had knighted him for his gallant deedson the field at Savignies. Lady Jernyngan was thedaughter of Sir Everard Herbert of Bromhill in Hereford.Her hand had also been sought by one VictorBozen, a soldier of fortune whose description was identicalwith that of the dead robber. It was true that hehad the assurance to demand her hand in marriage, butthe lady had openly scorned him, and in revenge he hadstabbed her successful suitor who had never harmed him.She rejoiced that his son—for she doubted not John washis son—had unknowingly revenged the foul deed.

Romance, then as now, greatly appeals to the gentlemind. Anne became greatly interested in John and tookhim under her special protection. She became his advocatewith the Earl, where he needed no advocate, andshielded him from the jibes and petty tyrannies of thepages at Warwick—her own castle—where he spenteighteen months perfecting himself in arms and chivalry.

145On his first visit home after a six months’ absence,Blanche flew at him, threw herself into his arms andkissed him.

“I have news for thee, sweetheart,” said John, “myLady has discovered”—

“Well,” said Blanche, “what hath she discovered?”

“I had better not tell thee, ’twill make thee unhappy.”

“Nay, tell me!”

“Give me first six kisses!”

“There then, thou silly. Now tell me!”

“My, thy lips are sweet! She thinks thou art no sisterof mine.”

“Oh John, how dreadful!”

“So I thought at first, but not now. We may wed.”

“Oh no! How could we?”

“We may and will. Now give me some more kisses.”

“Not so. If I am no sister why kiss? Too many haveI given thee already.”

“My Lady says thou art Blanche Wychyngham, thedaughter of Sir Edmund Wychyngham of Norfolk, andthat we were stolen and carried off by my nurse whowas a sister of that Victor Bozen I slew on the way toRoyston. He had a grudge against thy father also.”

“Oh John! how dreadful. I cannot bear it.” And sheran off to her foster mother in tears.

On the morrow came a letter bidding John join theEarl at Calais. Shortly thereafter Blanche left St.Albans to visit her father and sisters.

Among the Paston Letters is one from John Jernynganto his cousin, Margaret Paston, which is here reproducedwith all the quaint spelling of those days:

Unto my ryght wurchipfell Cosyn, Marget Paston, thislettre be delyvered in haste.

Ryght wurchipful and my moste beste beloved maystres andcosyn, I recommaund me unto you as lowly as I may, evermordesyring to here of your gode welfar; the whiche I besecheAlmyzthy Jesus to preserve you and kepe you to his plesur, andto your gracious herts desyre.

And yf it plese you to here of my welfar, I was in godehele at the makyng of this lettre, blessed be God.

Praying you that it plese you for to send me word yf myfadyr wer at Norwiche with you at this Trenite Masse or no,and how the matyr doth betwene my Maystres BlawncheWychynham and me, and yf ze supose that it shall be broughta bowte or no; and how ze fele my fadyr, yf he be wele wyllyngthereto or no; praying you lowly that I may be recomaundlowly unto my maystres Arblastres wyfe, and unto my MaystresBlawnche, her dowzther, specially.

Ryght wurchipfull cosyn, yf it please you for to her of suchetydings as we have her, the basset [embassay] of Burgoyneschall come to Calleys the Saturday^[2] eftyr Corpus Christi day,as men say v. hondred horse of hem. Moreover on TreniteSonday,^[3] in the mornyng, came tydings unto my Lord of Warwykethat ther were xxviij^te sayle of Spanyards on the se,and wherof ther was xvj. grete schippis of forecastell; and147then my Lord went and manned fyve schippis of forecastell,and iii. carvells, and iiij. spynnes [pinnaces], and on the Monday,^[4]on the mornyng eftyr Trenite Sonday, we met to gedyrafore Caleis, at iiij. at the clokke in the mornyng, and fawzthet gedyr till x. at the clokke; and ther we toke vj. of her[their] schippis, and they slowe of oure men about iiij^xx [fourscore] and hurt a ij. hondred of us ryght sore; and ther werslayne on theyr parte abowte xij^xx [twelve score], and hurt av. hondred of them.

And haped me, at the fyrste abordyng of us, we toke aschippe of iij^c [300] ton, and I was lefte therin and xxiij.men with me; and thei fawzthe so sor^[5] that our men werfayne to leve hem,^[6] and then come they and aborded the schippethat I was in, and ther I was taken, and was a prisoner withthem vj houris, and was delyvered agayne for theyr men thatwer taken beforne. And as men sayne, ther was not so gret abatayle upon the se this xl. wyntyr. And for sothe, we werwele and trewly bette; and my Lord hathe sent for morscheppis, and lyke to fyzthe to gedyr agayne in haste.

Nomor I write unto you at this time, but that it please youfor to recomaund me unto my ryght reverent and wurchipfullcosyn your husband,and myn ownkll Gournay, and to mynawnte his wyfe, and to alle gode maysters and frends where itschall plese yow; and eftyr the writyng I have from you, I schallbe at you in alle haste.

Wretyn on Corpus Christi day in gret haste, be your owneumble servant and cosyn,

The engagement with the Spaniards related in thisletter was looked upon as a victory by the English. Thenext year there was another naval battle in which after148a running two days’ chase three out of five Genoese andSpanish ships were captured and brought into Calais, andWarwick became a naval hero to his countrymen.

On June 24, 1460, with Salisbury and March, Warwicklanded at Sandwich, which Fauconberg had previouslycaptured and held for the Duke of York. John Jernyngan,as we must now call him, was of course of the party.On July 2 they were in London, and on the 10th theirarmy faced the army of the Red Rose in the meadowsnear Northampton.

The King’s position was well protected by the crudeartillery of that day, but there was a heavy rain stormand the pieces could not be discharged. The Lord Greyof Ruthven turned traitor to the King and assisted theadvance of the young Earl of March who soon openedthe way for the Yorkists. Buckingham, Shrewsbury,Beaumont, Egremont and Sir William Lucy with threehundred other Lords, knights and squires were killedand Henry was captured and taken to London.

In 1461, John was present at the rout of the Yorkistsat the second battle of St. Albans and escaped with difficulty.In March of the same year he also took part inthe decisive battle of Towton where the hopes of Henrythe sixth and his Queen found their grave. This was afiercely fought field where the mallets of lead crushedmany a skull. In the nick of time the troops of the Duke149of Norfolk arrived and the Lancastrians broke and fled.John had been in the front of the fighting, toweringabove the heads of the other knights and esquires withthe exception of the new King Edward IV who was amighty man and handsome. The slaughter was terrible.“No Quarter!” was the order, and most of thosecaptured were promptly beheaded.

After the pursuit was at an end John returned toSaxton where he found the King who said:

“Thou art a valiant soldier. Kneel!”

Then he smote John gently on the back with his swordand said:

“Rise, Sir John Jernyngan! The field is won. Gonow to thy people in Norfolk.”

It may be imagined that this command of the King waspromptly obeyed. When John arrived he discovered thatthe news of his new honor had preceded him. Therewere great rejoicings in which Blanche participated. Toher he seemed a different man—older, more sedate, ofgreater knowledge, more to be admired and respected.She began to wonder what were his thoughts? andabove all what he thought of her, but he gave at first nosign. In fact the slaughter after the battle had soberedhim. It was borne in upon him that the King was crueland that trouble must come. From boy he had becomea man, accustomed to command and self-reliant. Like150the moth near the flame Blanche was attracted and thenrepelled. She began to dream, and he figured in herdreams. She was a beautiful girl, much courted and atrifle spoiled, but John seemed to her stronger, handsomerand better than her other men friends. He neverwavered in kindness but said little. She became bolderand he met her advances. Soon she found herself hopelesslyin love.

In those days love was not alone the concern of thelovers. Fathers and mothers, often overlords, and evensometimes the King, must be consulted. When all thesetedious matters had been arranged there was a greatwedding at Warwick Castle, where Anne insisted theceremony must be performed. The Bishop of Canterburysaid mass and married the couple in the presenceof the King, the Earl of Warwick and many of thenobility.

After their marriage several years of peace followed.Then more strife and blood with the struggle betweenEdward and Warwick, the return of Henry for a briefperiod, the fight at Barnet and the death of Warwick, theaccession of Richard III and his brief and bloody careerending in the fight and his death on Bosworth Field.With the accession of Henry VII, the wars of the roseswere at an end; peace returned and our story ends.

In the year 1903 I bought my first automobile. Itwas a Ford. Even as early as that the inimitable Henrywas at work; but this car was quite unlike the modernFord. It had double opposed cylinders placed horizontallyon either side of the crankshaft which was in themiddle and in the fore and aft axis of the machine. Theengine was said to develop eight horsepower—perhapsit did. There was a front seat for two passengers andtwo corner seats for two more in the small tonneauback of it. The tonneau was entered by a narrow doorin the middle of the back; below it was a step to enablethe passengers to get up and down. There was no cover.The car was painted a brilliant red.

I was very much elated over my new car which hadbeen carefully tested before I bought it. The salesman,who was also the mechanic, drove me over all the roughroads and steep hills in the vicinity. I drove it downone of these steep hills myself to test the brakes. Underall these tests the car behaved very well, but I soonfound that a good-sized repair bill was a necessary partof the program. I also found myself gaining a profoundrespect for the mechanic, that is for some mechanics.I also discovered that it was necessary to spendthree hours looking for the source of any trouble andbut three minutes in fixing it.

152There was a beautiful drive along the river. Everyevening after my working day was over and I had hadsupper (we did not call it dinner) I was in the habit ofdriving several miles down the river and back beforethe night shut in. In case I lingered and the darknessovertook me there was a brilliant headlight in the frontof the car making the pathway as light as day. Usuallysome young lady of my acquaintance accompanied meon these drives. I was also fond of riding on Sundayafternoons. I asked Mrs. Henry to go with me oneSunday afternoon but she refused—she said it waswicked to take rides on Sunday.

“You might say that if I were driving a horse or anass or anything that was myneighbor’s, Mrs. Henry,”said I, “but I am driving a soulless machine and it belongsto me.”

“Well, I don’t know very well just what the ins andouts are,” she replied, “but I don’t feel right when I goout driving on Sunday.”

Mr. Henry smiled—I knew he did not feel that muchrespect for Sunday—but when I asked him to go he declined;said he had a lot of writing to do, but I thoughthe was afraid.

I was determined to go and did not want to go alone.There was a baker’s daughter living on the same street.She was a very pretty girl, with a beautiful complexion153and wonderful eyes. She had a smile and a kind wordfor everybody. When I asked her whether she wouldlike to go she said: “yes she would, very much.” Now,that is what I like in a girl; I like a girl who knows herown mind.

Sally was a quiet girl, usually, but that afternoon shehad a great deal to say. When she spoke she smiled atme, and she did not say a single unkind thing duringthe ride. I was very much pleased with Sally. I thoughtit would be nice to have her around all the time. I determinedto take her again that evening; her mother toldme, however, that she had gone to church with JimBarkley. Jim was a bank cashier. He was gettinga good salary and dressed very well. I looked at Mrs.Lunn with considerable interest. She was a very nicewoman and her complexion was good, for she lived overa bakery, and spent much of her time in it. I had noticedthat bakers and singers always had good complexionsand were fat. Mrs. Lunn was fat, too—very fat. As Ilooked at her I said to myself: “that is how Sally willlook in a few years,” and a chill stole over me.

I was living at a boarding house at this time. Severalother members of the college faculty also boarded there.The food was pretty good but we were not very wellsatisfied. The dining table was rather small and was sofull of dishes that the coffee pot was placed on the floor154alongside of the hostess. We had pie at every meal—afresh pie at lunch and supper, and pieces of left-overpie for breakfast. Of course we need not eat pie, butso much pie was disconcerting. That coffee pot on thefloor was disconcerting also. One of the boarders disturbedus, too. He was a minister and a very good youngman, but when he wanted a piece of pie he looked straightat it, like a pointer dog, untilsome one asked him tohave a piece. I had boarded for two years and I wasgrowing tired of boarding. My position as a teacher inRochambeau College was pleasant but I was growingrestless.

The next Saturday I started to drive my car toTrenton. I was fond of reading, and it was my customto visit Traver’sbookstore in Trenton or Leary’s inPhiladelphia and purchase several books at a time.These second hand books answered my purpose perfectlyand were much cheaper than new books. SometimesI also attended vendues in the country and boughtbooks, but this was not usually very satisfactory.

I had driven about a mile down the river when I overtooktwo girls traveling afoot in the same direction. Oneof them was very pretty. I asked them to get in. Theylooked doubtfully at each other but finally accepted myinvitation. The oldest one told me her name was FannyHilltop and the pretty girl was her younger sister, Mary.155Mary was rather quiet but seemed very pleasant. Shesmiled very often and when she smiled she showed a verypretty set of very white teeth. I had always admiredwhite teeth and pretty girls and Mary seemed very nice.We came to a cross road very soon and the girls said theymust get down there, they lived about a mile up the sideroad. I told them I was out for a ride, which was trueenough, and that I might as well take them home, butthey warned me the road was rough and hilly.

I turned into the by-road and though it was roughand rocky got along very well for over half a mile; thenwe came to a short, very steep hill. The car snortedand puffed and finally stopped. I let it back down, puton full speed and went at it again. It stuck fast again.By this time the girls had grown nervous backing downthe hill, so I pulled the car to one side of the road and wewalked to their house up several hills and directly on topof a mountain overlooking two beautiful valleys, one oneither side. Their house was a very pretty one paintedwhite. I told Mary that they had a right to the name ofHilltop but she said I had misunderstood, it was Hillpot.“Oh,” said I, “that must be a mistake. I believeone of your ancestors was a poor speller and twistedthe spelling.”

The girls invited me to come in and rest or at least tosit down on the porch awhile. I chose the latter. The156mother came out after awhile and I was introduced. Shewas a pleasant-looking, motherly soul, quick-motionedand rather thin. Her face was seamed with fine wrinklesand her hands showed signs of hard usage. I liked herlooks and I liked Mary, too. They invited me to stayto dinner and I accepted. Fanny went to help hermother with the dinner while Mary entertained me. Thefather and a half grown boy came in after awhile.

Old man Hillpot looked me over pretty sharply, andI thought I knew just what he was thinking, but Iwasn’t thinking that at all. The boy looked at Mary andthen at me and then he grinned and Mary’s eyes snapped.I knew what he thought and what she thought. The oldlady had a pleasant smile on her face as if she neverthought at all, but I knew that she was doing a heap morethinking than all the others put together; for she wasfiguring out what each one thought and then what sheshould do herself so that everything should come out allright. I was getting to like the old lady.

After dinner Mary and I went out on the porch. Theold lady and Fanny washed the dishes. The old manand the boy went off to milk the cows but the boy winkedat Mary before he started and her eyes snapped again.After we had talked awhile I excused myself to get adrink in the kitchen. The old lady was washing thedishes. She had a dish pan full of soapy water and a157dish cloth. First she scraped all the dishes as clean aspossible; then she put them in the soapy water andrubbed them with the cloth; then she put them intoanother pan full of very hot water, took them out andlaid them on the table. I got a towel and wiped them forher. She said:

“This isn’t the first time you wiped dishes.”

“How do you know?” I replied.

“Because you washed your hands first, and you don’ttouch the dishes with your hands.”

“Yes,” I said, “I used to help my mother.”

“Is your mother living?” she asked.

“No,” I answered, “she died two years ago.”

“Oh, you poor boy,” she said; and she looked at mevery sorrowfully.

Mary had come into the kitchen by this time but Ithought she seemed somewhat bored. Pretty soon theold man and the boy came back and we all went out onthe porch and had a real folksy talk. The boy was verymuch interested in the college and asked me a greatmany questions about it. He said he thought of goingto college if it didn’t cost too much. I told him it wouldbe all right to go to college but I hoped after he got outhe would come back and help his father farm. He saidhe didn’t know about that and grinned at the old man;but the old man seemed very quiet; he just sat and158listened; sometimes I thought he seemed a little sad. Heappeared to be very fond of Fanny; he often looked ather, and when he did a pleasant look came over his face.

The old lady asked me to come again, real cordially,and then we all shook hands and I started off.

It was beginning to get dark when I reached the car.I was just ready to turn the crank when I heard someone say: “Get up Billy.” I looked up and found a prettygirl in a falling top was trying to make her horse passthe machine. He was frightened and wouldn’t go andthe girl seemed to be frightened too.

It was the law in those days that when a persondriving a horse met an auto and held up a hand, the autodriver must drive to the side of the road, stop his carand lead the horse past the machine. So I went to thehorse’s head and led him past the machine. When wehad gone a short distance up the road I asked the girlwhether she could drive him now? She said she wasafraid of him, he might run away. She didn’t like todrive anyhow but there was no one to drive her thatafternoon so she had hitched up the horse herself. Itold her I would drive her home if it was not too far.She said her house was only half a mile up the road, soI got in and took the reins. The horse was old and stiff,but as his nose was pointed toward home and oats hemade steady progress and we soon arrived. I had introduced159myself to the lady who informed me that hername was Horner, that she taught school in the neighborhoodand boarded at the farm house to which we weregoing. I remarked that Horner was a rural name andsmelled of the dairy at which she managed to crack asmile. We had come by a side road at the last, down intoa valley, over a bridge and up the other side to the farmhouse.

The farmer came out and held the horse while Ihelped the lady out. By this time the mother and hertwo daughters, Sarah and Jane Oldit, had come out andbeen introduced. We sat on the porch for awhile andthen I started for home once more murmuring: Hilltop,Hillpot, Horner, Oldit!

II

Rochambeau College was denominational and of theblue Presbyterian order, under the care of the Synod.This connection was, however, almost purely theoreticaland we were very much left alone to our own devicesso long as no attempt was made by the President or membersof the Faculty to blow loud heretical trumpets.Most of the members of the Board of Trustees weregood fellows, mildly interested in the church and verymuch interested in educating young men. This real interestwas manifested in an unmistakeable manner by160their steady contributions to the College finances whichat this time were not in too flourishing a condition. Nota few of the Trustees were depriving themselves ofluxuries and even necessities in order that the Facultymight have decent living conditions. Not all the membersof the Faculty appreciated this, but I did. Most ofthe members of our Board were earnest men worthy ofrespect and I, for one, did thoroughly respect them. ThePresident, Dr. Camden, was a genial old chap, prone todiscover all sorts of excellencies in the members of hisFaculty and active in proclaiming them to the Board andto the world. He used the same methods with the studentsand was able to rule without despotism.

Some of his methods were, however quite near theborder line which divides the good from the bad, andaroused the condemnation of some more rigid membersof the Faculty who were rich enough to be independent.In most cases his makeshift measures were made necessaryby lack of funds, and were, therefore, forgivable.

On my return home I found a letter awaiting me, andnext morning, after my first class had recited I went tosee the President. He came peering into the room witha frown on his face. On recognizing me his face lightedup and he advanced with both hands open and a beamingface.

“My dear Brown! I am so glad to see you.”

161“I came over, Doctor,” said I, “to see whether youwould be so good as to advise me? I have just had anoffer from Ashton University, and am undecided what Ihad better do. I like my work very much here but theyhave offered me more money.”

“It is very good of you, Brown, to come to me at onceand I appreciate it. I should be very sorry to have youleave, and if you will tell me whether a small addition toyour salary will induce you to stay I will ask the Trusteesto add, let us say, $200.00 to your allowance. Butnow, my dear fellow I must ask you to do me a favor.You know that Professor Last is to leave us at the endof the year and I want you to teach Metallurgy.Only two lectures a week for one term, you know?”

“But, Doctor, I am not posted on Metallurgy.”

“Oh, but I feel sure you can do excellently well. Itis very simple. You put the ore and fuel into a furnace,light the fire and there you are. And Brown! now wehave settled that, I want you to take tea with me to-morrowevening. I must try to see more of you. Imust see that you are taken care of.”

I laughed, thanked the Doctor, said I would come,and took my leave.

The next evening six people sat down at the President’stable: the Doctor and his wife, his niece, KittyCamden and her brother Searles, Miss Hetty Poiret and162myself. Kitty Camden was tall and stately while HettyPoiret was quite small, with a rather shy manner and asweet smile. Searles was younger than his sister, ratherboyish in manner but a nice ingenuous lad. He was talllike his sister and nervous; his hands twitched, and hethrew out his head from time to time as if his collarhurt him.

“There are several ages represented here,” said theDoctor, “I think I must tell my frog story.”

“Oh, no, Henry!” said his wife.

“Do, Doctor!” I broke in, “I have never heard it, andI like your stories.”

“There, Helen,” said the Doctor, “you see one personlikes my stories.”

“We all like them, Doctor,” said Hetty Poiret.

“Well,” he began, “there is a place down below Philadelphiawhere the Schuylkill empties into the Delaware.The shores are low, flat and marshy. Tall grass growsdown to the river’s edge; and here the tiny little frogsgather in the shallows as evening falls and peep shrilly:Schuyl—kill! Schuyl—kill! Schuyl—kill!

“Further up the river a creek flows in. There aretrees along the bank. There is a very narrow beach withthe banks rising abruptly and prevented from falling inby the tree roots. Here the middle-sized frogs gather163in the evenings and call in middle-sized voices: Wis—sa—he—con!Wis—sa—he—con! Wis—sa—he—con!

“Further up, the stream is deeper. There are highbanks which shelve off rapidly into deeper water. Alongthe edges solemn shadows form as the sun sets, and herethe big bullies gather and croak in solemn tones: Man—yunk!Man—yunk! Man—yunk!”

“I like that story,” said Helen, “it is cute.”

“Yes, I like it, Doctor, that’s a good one,” I said.

“You never told me that one before,” said Kitty Camden, reproachfully.

The Doctor laughed. Then he began telling us abouthis travels. His wife had accompanied him, and occasionallyshe broke into the narrative to remind him ofsomething he had forgotten. I have forgotten most ofwhat he told us but I remember one part clearly. Hesaid they had traveled over the Splugen on the Via Malain a one-horse victoria driven by a black-browed, surlyItalian. Coming down the southern slopes they passedthrough great groves of giant chestnuts. Nothing elsewould grow there, for immense rocks covered the surfaceand made cultivation impossible. These trees bore cropsof the large Italian chestnuts with which we are familiarfrom seeing them on our fruit stands. These aregathered by the peasants and stored in bags in the loftsoverhead until they are well dried. They are then taken164down and beaten with sticks. This breaks the hullswhich are winnowed out. The meat is then beaten toflour in mortars andpolenta or mush made of it whichforms almost the only food of the peasants.

III

As Trenton had not been reached the preceding Saturday,I determined to try again and to take Sally withme. Sally said she would be delighted to go. Nextmorning at about eight we were ready for the trip. Itwas a beautiful morning and Sally was as sparklinglypretty as a morning daisy. It was a pleasure to look ather. She had a parcel done up in paper which I storedin the tonneau. When I turned the crank nothing happened.I turned the crank again—still nothing happened.At the third turn there were two explosions and thensilence. Fourth turn, ditto. Fifth turn, the engine ranfor some time and just as we were ready to move stoppedagain. By this time my patience had a very thin edge,but, fortunately, the next turn gave the desired result andwe were off.

My car had a serious defect: the radiator was too smalland the water grew hot and boiled about every threemiles. If there was much climbing the distance traveledbefore this happened was less. In consequence it wasnecessary to let the boiling water escape and provide a165fresh charge, which required frequent running to thepump with a collapsible bucket.

About three miles from our starting place we reacheda roadside spring and I replaced the water and plied theoil can. Not many yards below the spring we overtooka young lady walking in the direction we were going.It was Miss Horner on her way to the village just below.We stopped and asked her to ride with us. She was onher way to her school for some books which had beenforgotten. On reaching the school we were invited toinspect it. It was an old-fashioned place, painted yellowoutside, with a large coal stove at one side and blackboardssurrounding the room on all the available wallspace. There was a bench before the teacher’s desk onwhich the lazy or naughty pupils stood during the noonor recess periods.

After we left her Sally was very inquisitive. Shewanted to know who she was, where she came from, howand where I had met her. Satisfied on these points weproceeded happily on our way. Presently the car beganto steam and I to look for a watering place. The canalwas close to the road, and after considerable searchingI found a place where it was possible to reach the waterwith my bucket. I succeeded in doing so after somestretching but in lifting the bucket the weight of thewater overbalanced me and down into the water I slid.

166Sally cried out in alarm but wasted no time in thrustinga stick from the roadside into my hands. Then I wasslowly and carefully pulled in and helped up the bank.I was in a pretty pickle. Wet from head to foot; mycollar and shirt in collapse; my shoes filled with water,and my hat gone. I told Sally it did not matter. It waswarm and I would soon dry off. As for my hat and collarI could replace them at the next country store. Shesaid I was very brave and she was proud of me; andas she said this her eyes sparkled and her cheeks werefull of rosy color. I had been very much surprised ather prompt, vigorous action in helping me and also atthe strength she displayed. With her permission I removedmy coat and shoes and laid them to dry in thetonneau. Then with a considerable increase in cordialitywe once more took the road. At frequent intervals wewere obliged to water the car and might fairly be saidto have worked our passage. At Lehnenburg or Monroewe entered the red shale country which extends to Trentonand below. In many places this shale is coveredwith river sand or is replaced by sandstone rock belongingto the same formation but less strongly colored withiron oxide. Over roads varying in character but mostlybad we proceeded. From Erwinna to Point Pleasant theroad was especially bad, being both rocky and muddy.By careful driving I managed to avoid splashing the car167very badly. At New Hope we crossed the river and proceededtoward Trenton. It was now time for lunch andwe drew up by the roadside under a maple and Sally producedher package which contained a lunch fit for kings.This we discussed amid a cheerful rain of jokes andchaff.

After lunch we proceeded and soon entered StateStreet and turned down South Broad. There were fewcars in those days and no traffic policemen so that wecould turn the car on South Broad and draw up beforethe bookstore.

I was a great admirer of Stockton and Stevenson andso I found was Sally. In the stock of second hand booksby these authors we found copies of “The Lady and theTiger,” “The Casting Away of Mrs. Lecks and Mrs.Aleshine,” “The Christmas Wreck” and “Amos Kilbright”by Stockton and “The Black Arrow,” “Kidnapped”and “The Strange Case of Mr. Jekyll and Mr.Hyde” by Stephenson. These we considered a great findand the price was very reasonable. They were stowedin the tonneau and Sally took her seat while I turned thecrank. This time we started off without trouble.

We had got as far as Lambertville on the return whentrouble with the car began to develop. The engine wouldrun properly for awhile and then it would slow down andalmost stop, then it would start running properly again.168This continued until we were several miles above NewHope. Here the engine gave out completely. After tryingin vain to start it again I abandoned hope and Sallyand I pushed the car to the roadside and started off forhelp. We walked nearly a mile before we came to ahouse. I knocked at the door which was opened by anice-looking boy of about ten years. In answer to myenquiry he said his Pop was at the barn and if we wouldsit down he would go after him. Presently the boy’smother came in and we told her the car had broken down.She thought we had better spend the night there and goon in the morning. She had a spare room which wemight use. I thought further explanations were in orderand the old lady said if I would be content with a cot theyoung lady might have the spare room and I could sleepin the attic. I thanked her and, after consulting Sally,accepted. When the farmer came in we found nothingelse could be done. He promised to drive me to NewHope in the morning and get a mechanic. I lay awakefor a long time wondering what could be the matter.Finally it occurred to me that the gasoline might havegiven out. The next morning we had an early breakfastand the farmer and I drove to the car. Sure enoughwe found the tank as dry as a bone. Then we went onto New Hope and after some searching found gasolineand partly filled the tank. After turning the engine over169several times it caught and we drove up to the house.Sally seemed to be worried but she said very little. Onthe way home she said she was afraid her mother mightworry and wished there were some way to get word toher. I suggested that we telegraph but we found all theoffices closed.

About 11 o’clock we reached home. I went in withSally. Her mother seemed worried. She said she hadbeen very much distressed by our non-arrival the nightbefore and looked at me searchingly. I told her I hadbeen very stupid but she must remember I had run a caronly a short time and was not very experienced. Sallysaid she was sure I was not to blame.

The next day I needed some money and went to thebank. Jim Barkley waited on me and after he hadcashed the check said:

“I hear you were stalled the other day because you hadno gasoline? Pretty slick excuse.”

“No,” I said, “do you think so?”

“Ho, ho,” he said, “ho, ho!”

“He, he,” I said, “he, he!”

He looked pretty black at this but said nothing more.

I went to call on Sally that evening and she greeted mewith smiles. She wanted to know whether I had caughtcold? I said no, I had not. She told me she thoughtJim Barkley was very disagreeable. He had been making170nasty remarks about me. He had told Hetty Poiret thatI was a prig. She thought he was very ugly-temperedand very stupid. Before I left she asked me whether Ioften took cold. I said I did. She advised me if I feltI was taking cold to soak my feet in hot water in awooden bucket, the water should be very hot and containa teaspoonful of soda. Then I must wipe my feet with adry, hot towel and get into bed. She did not say retire,she said get into bed. I had not had such advice sincemy mother died two years before. She looked veryearnest and very much concerned as she said it. It wasnot a romantic speech but somehow I liked to have hersay it.

IV

The following Saturday I planned to take a trip toDoylestown. I had some relatives there whom I had notseen for some time and Fanny and Mary Hillpot hadagreed to go with me. Their cousin lived there. I wasdoubtful about my ability to drive my car to the Hillpothouse and experiment proved my doubt to be wellfounded. By making a strong spurt I succeeded in gettingup the first hill but stuck fast on the second. Iclimbed the rest of the hill afoot. Mary was as prettyas a picture and I admired her very much. She certainlyhad beautiful teeth and was all smiles when I171arrived. The girls were soon ready and we walked tothe car and started. Mary was beside me and Fanny inthe tonneau with some wraps, two umbrellas and somelunch. We were nearing Kintnersville when dark cloudsbegan to pile up on the horizon and presently it beganto rain. The girls were in the tonneau each with anumbrella and I was on the front seat with a rubber coatand hat. The rain came down in bucketfuls and thenbegan to blow. The water collected in a pool on the frontseat and ran down my leg into my shoe. The girls’ feetand skirts got wet and Mary began to cry. Fanny wasjust as wet but she laughed and seemed to be enjoyingherself. I drove as rapidly as possible and got under ashed at Ferndale. Mary was as cross as a wet hen. Herhair had lost its curl, her hat was awry and she showedneither smile nor white teeth. The girls went into thehotel and after quite a long stay came out somewhat drierand ready to proceed. But Mary was sulky and disagreeable.After the shower passed over we startedagain, but now there was mud everywhere—thin splashyred mud that flew over everything. At Pipersville Hill itwas necessary for the girls to walk up the hill and theirfeet were very muddy and wet. Between Pipersville andPlumstedville there was a swampy spot where the carstuck fast. Fanny helped me get stones to put under thewheels while Mary sat on the fence and glowered at us.172Finally we got started again and reached Doylestown.Here we separated. While I was visiting my cousins ahostler washed the car and after it was ready I drovearound, took the girls in and started for home. We gotback without accident and then I visited the Oldit place.Sarah and Jane were at home but Miss Horner had notarrived. We sat on the front porch and the girls rakedover the characters of all the neighbors. I found theyhad had a disagreement also with Miss Horner. Therewere several vicious digs given after she arrived and Ideparted somewhat depressed.

The next evening I took Sally to Dr. Camden’s tocall on the young visitors. We found Jim Barkley there.He paid marked attention to Hetty Poiret all the evening.Occasionally he glanced at Sally or me but we avoidedhim as much as possible. We did not have a very pleasantevening. Searles and Kitty had been quarreling andwere still skirmishing. We left early and walked homein the moonlight.

The next morning people who met me looked unusuallypleasant and seemed amused. I could not understand ituntil I reached Sally’s house again. She met me at thedoor and called to her mother as I came in:

“Here he is mother! Now we shall see!”

173“Did you know,” she said turning to me, “that JimBarkley says that you were in Doylestown yesterdaydriving two girls in a red devil as drunk as a lord?”

“No,” I replied, “I did not. I was in Doylestowndriving my red car and Fanny and Mary Hillpot werewith me but I was not drunk. I had had nothing at allto drink.”

“There, Mother,” said Sally, “I told you he did notdrink.”

“And did you know,” she continued, “that he says westayed at a farm house together on Saturday night, andthen he winks.”

“The dirty dog,” I said, “I think I can stop his mouth.”

Sally and her mother were both in tears but I comfortedthem by telling them that I would bring thefarmer and his wife up next day. I did so and drovearound to Dr. Camden’s house. I told the Doctor mystory and asked him to question the farmer and his wife.He agreed to this and did so. Then I drove them to thebank and asked Mr. Davis, the President of the bankto listen to them in Jim Barkley’s presence. Jim declaredthat he had been misquoted but I brought HettyPoiret to the bank to contradict him. Then I took thefarmer and his wife back home after warmly thankingthem.

174That evening I went again to see Sally. She blushedbeautifully as she opened the door. “Sally!” I said, “Icame here to tell you that you are the dearest, sweetest,prettiest, smartest, nicest girl in the world, and that Ilove you, love you, love you.”

“Oh, do you?” said Sally, “I am so glad.”

“Did you ever hear of the young man whose ecstasywas so great under similar conditions that he broke thepoor girl’s ribs?” I did not break Sally’s ribs but I heldher tight and she laughed and her eyes sparkled andthen she cried a little. Presently she said she must tellher father and mother. They all came in presently andshook hands with me and her mother kissed me. “IfSally loves you I must too,” she said, and then shewiped her eyes. They both looked sad. “You know,she is our baby,” her father said, “and it is pretty hard tolose her. Please be good to her.”

I said: “I don’t think I am much account, but Sallysays she loves me and I’m sure I love her, and I willpromise you to be good to her and try to be a better manevery day.”

Well, we had a fashionable wedding in a month fromthat time. Jim Barkley was not present because he waslooking for another job in New York. Sally and I havebeen married now for twenty years and have two fine175boys in college. Sally is getting as round as a dumpling,but I like her so much I never notice what she looks like.Neither do the boys. So much kindness shines from hereyes when she looks at us that we see nothing else.

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