e well-worn rut of my life in Woodlawn I knew
too well, and my need of contact with my fellow craftsmen in the East
sharpened. The support and inspiration which come naturally to authors
in contact with their kind were being denied me. Age was bringing me no
"harvest home." In short, at the very time when I should have been most
honored, most recompensed, in my work, I found myself living meanly in a
mean street and going about like a man of mean concerns, having little
influence on my art or among my fellows.

That Chicago was still on the border in a literary sense was sharply
emphasized when the National Institute of Arts and Letters decided
(after much debate), to hold its Annual Meeting for 1913 in the midland
metropolis. "It is a long way out to Chicago," its Secretary wrote,
"and I don't know how many members we can assemble, but I think we shall
be able to bring twenty-five at least. You have been appointed chairman
of the Committee of Arrangements, with full powers to go ahead."

The honor and responsibility of this appointment spurred me to action. I
decided to accept and make the meeting a literary milestone in western
history. My first thought was to make the Cliff Dwellers' Club the host
of the occasion, but on further consideration, I reckoned that the
City's welcome would have greater weight if all its literary and
artistic forces could be in some way combined. To bring this about I
directed letters to the heads of seventeen clubs and educational
organizations, asking them to meet with me and form a joint Reception
Committee.

This they did, and in a most harmonious session elected Hobart
Chatfield-Taylor chairman. To this Committee I then said, "If we are to
have any considerable number of our distinguished eastern authors and
artists at this dinner we must make it very easy for them to travel. We
should have a special train for them or at least special sleeping cars
so that they can come as if in a moving club."

In this plan I had instant support. The sturdy group of men who had been
so ready to aid me in building up the Cliff Dwellers (men like
Hutchinson, Logan, Glessner, Ryerson, Aldis, and Heckmen), all took
vital interest in the arrangements for the reception and dinner. The
necessary funds were immediately subscribed, and my report to the
Institute Council created a fine feeling of enthusiasm in the ranks of
both organizations. The success of the meeting was assured. Some of the
oldest member