ing the liberty of sending you a copy of my book on the
industrial question. I hope you will forgive me for intruding it upon
you. I have so many delightful recollections of the keen and instructive
things you said at Mrs. Shields's house that I now find myself full of
regret that the conversation continually drifted into general
discussions which robbed us all of an opportunity to hear more of your
own conclusions.

"Your generous comment upon Kansas City and the west has made us all
happy and as a citizen I want to express my hearty appreciation of your
compliments to this growing section of the country.

"I do not wonder that you drew from my remarks the conclusion that I am
'illiberal.' I was stupid not to realise that your definition of the
word liberal is different from that which characterises it out here just
now. In your world, 'liberal' is an honourable word. Over here it has
come through misuse to denote a peculiar class whose reaction is
antigovernment. The anarchist, the socialist, the communist and the
bolshevist are all put down in one class, and the word liberal is
thundered at them by orators and editors. It isn't fair to the word.

"If you have time, I'd be awfully glad if you would look over 'The Party
of the Third Part,' because it relates to a program of industrial peace
and justice which the President has recently indorsed in a message to
Congress and which New York is now trying to write into her state
legislation. Doubtless if the law is held to be constitutional by the
Supreme Court of the United States several States in the forthcoming
legislative sessions will adopt the principle of impartial adjudication
of labor quarrels when those quarrels occur in the essential industries
of food, fuel, clothing and transportation.

"I am sincerely glad you came to the middle west and I am grateful to
Mrs. Shields for the delightful privilege of meeting you. I hope you
will have a safe and happy voyage and that some day you will come back
to America.

"Yours sincerely,

"HENRY J. ALLEN."

I was proud and pleased to sit to Baron Meyer one morning, the greatest
photographer that ever lived--poor praise for an artist who can express
himself in whatever he touches. If I die on the _Mauretania_ going
home,--which is more than likely as the sea seldom forgives bad
sailors--I am certain of leaving something to my family that they can
look at without repugnance.

On the 3rd of April we