to make him attorney-general. Arthur was a strict formalist and
could not tolerate the thought of having such an eccentric genius
in his Cabinet. Storrs was not only disappointed but hurt that
Arthur declined to appoint him.

To make him happy his rich clients--and he had many of them--raised
a handsome purse and urged him to make a European trip. Then
the president added to the pleasure of his journey by giving him
an appointment as a sort of roving diplomat, with special duties
relating to the acute trouble then existing in regard to the
admission of American cattle into Great Britain. They were barred
because of a supposed infectious disease.

Storrs's weakness was neckties. He told me that he had three
hundred and sixty-five, a new one for every day. He would come
on deck every morning, display his fresh necktie, and receive
a compliment upon its color and appropriateness, and then take
from his pocket a huge water-proof envelope. From this he would
unroll his parchment appointment as a diplomat, and the letters
he had to almost every one of distinction in Europe. On the last
day, going through the same ceremony, he said to me: "I am not
showing you these things out of vanity, but to impress upon you
the one thing I most want to accomplish in London. I desire to
compel James Russell Lowell, our minister, to give me a dinner."

Probably no man in the world could be selected so antipathetic
to Lowell as Emory Storrs. Mr. Lowell told me that he was annoyed
that the president should have sent an interloper to meddle with
negotiations which he had in successful progress to a satisfactory
conclusion. So he invited Storrs to dinner, and then Storrs took
no further interest in his diplomatic mission.

Mr. Lowell told me that he asked Storrs to name whoever he wanted
to invite. He supposed from his general analysis of the man that
Storrs would want the entire royal family. He was delighted to
find that the selection was confined entirely to authors, artists,
and scientists.

On my return trip Mr. Storrs was again a fellow passenger. He
was very enthusiastic over the places of historic interest he had
visited, and eloquent and graphic in descriptions of them and of
his own intense feelings when he came in contact with things he
had dreamed of most of his life.

"But," he said, "I will tell you of my greatest adventure. I was
in the picture-gallery at Dresden, and in that small room where
hangs Raphael