me very, very beautiful things about the
charm of Montgomery life. However, it was clear to me that my companion
was not interested. After he had looked at his watch several times, and
drummed a long tattoo upon the table, he arose, declaring:

"I can't wait another minute."

"Sit down, my dear fellow," said the secretary in his most genial tone.
"I am having some special southern dishes prepared for you."

"You're very kind," said my companion, "but I must get to work. It's
half-past four now; we are leaving in a few hours. It will take me an
hour to make my sketches, and the light will be failing pretty soon."

"What are you going to sketch?" It seemed to me that there was
suppressed emotion in the secretary's voice as he asked the question.

"Why, the street fair."

"Surely, you're not going to _draw_ it?"

"Why not?"

"It's not representative of Montgomery. You ought to do something
representative! What pictures have you made here?"

"I made one of those negroes driving in to market," said my companion,
"and one of the dancing cowgirls in the tent across the way--the ones
who kept us awake last night."

"My God!" cried the secretary, turning to me. "You intend to print such
pictures and say that they represent the normal life of this city?"

"No, I won't say anything about it."

"But--" the secretary arose and looked wanly at the illustrator--"but
you haven't drawn any of our pretty homes! You didn't draw the golf
clubs--not either one of them! You didn't draw the State House, or the
Confederate Monument, or the Insane Asylum, or anything!"

"I haven't had time."

"Well, you have time now! I tell you what: We'll let this luncheon go.
I'll take you to the top of our tallest building, and you can draw a
panoramic bird's-eye view of the entire city. That will be worth while."

My companion reached out, helped himself to a French roll, and put it in
his pocket.

"No," he said. "I will not go to the top of a high building with you."

"But why not?"

"Because," he replied, "I am afraid you would try to push me off the
roof to prevent my drawing the street fair."

I do not remember that the secretary denied having harbored such a plan.
At all events, he countermanded the remainder of the luncheon order and
departed with us.

At the entrance of an office building he made one final desperate
appeal: "Just come up to the top floor and see the view!"

But we stood firm, and he continued with us on our