ose things which reasonable
preparedness dictates, the things which cannot be accomplished after
trouble is upon us. He had in mind at the time of his death a series
of articles to be written especially to build up interest in universal
military training through conveying to our people an understanding of
what organization as it exists to-day means, and how vitally important
it is for our people to do in time of peace those things which modern
war does not permit done once it is under way.

"Davis was a loyal friend, a thoroughgoing American devoted to the best
interests of his country, courageous, sympathetic, and true. His loss
has been a very real one to all of us who knew and appreciated him, and
in his death the cause of preparedness has lost an able worker and the
country a devoted and loyal citizen."

Although suffering from his strenuous experiences in France, and more
particularly from those in Greece, Richard continued to accomplish his
usual enormous amount of work, and during these weeks wrote his last
short story, "The Deserter."

The following letter was written to me while I was in the Bahamas and
was in reference to a novel which I had dedicated to Hope:

MOUNT KISCO--February 28, 1916.

DEAR OLD MAN:

No word yet of the book, except the advts. I enclose. I will send you
the notices as soon as they begin to appear. I am so happy over the
dedication, and, very proud. So, Hope will be when she knows. As I
have not read the novel it all will come as a splendid and pleasant
surprise. I am looking forward to sitting down to it with all the
pleasure in the world.

You chose the right moment to elope. Never was weather so cold, cruel
and bitter. Hope is the only one who goes out of doors.

I start the fires in the Big House tomorrow and the plumbers and paper
hangers, painters enter the day after.

The attack on Verdun makes me sick. I was there six weeks ago in one
of the forts but of course could not then nor can I now write of it. I
don't believe the drive ever can get through. For two reasons, and the
unmilitary one is that I believe in a just God. Give my love to Dai,
and for you always

DICK.

P. S. I am happy you are both so happy, but those post cards with the
palms were cruelty to animals.

On the 21st of March, 1916, Richard and his wife and daughter moved
from the Scribner cottage to Crossroads, and a few days later he was
attacked by the illness that ended in his dea