ss, drunk as a lord, full of argument, and was presently
expelled from the school. It was commonly said that the disgrace of it
would hound him through life. Far from it! Those who at this day pack
Carnegie Lyceum to hear him play the violin, and who listen, laughing
and crying, and comparing him to the incomparable Kreisler, perceive no
disgrace in that youthful episode, rather they see in it an early
indication of the divine temperament trying to shake off its fetters
and be free.

One boy that I went to school with is on the famous Meadowbrook team;
another has played in Davis Cup matches; another brought home a First
from the Olympic games. In the pack that I run with there is even one
Roper who achieves a large income by writing fiction for the magazines,
but even he isn't in the least like that brilliant little circle to
which Fulton belonged. For we feel that we are paying him an immense
compliment when we say, "Would you ever suspect that he was an author?"
Good at games, fond of late hours and laughter, with the easiest and
most affectionate good manners, he is quite convinced, if you can get
him to talk shop, at all, that art for art's sake is bunk, and that
there is more amusement and inspiration to be had on Bailey's Beach and
in the Casino at Newport than in the whole of Italy.

I must set Roper off against Fulton's friend Garrick. Poor Garrick
slaved and slaved and reached after perfection. Some say that in the
thin little volume that he succeeded at last in getting published, and
leaving behind for the delight of posterity, he actually touched
perfection. Perhaps he did. I don't know. But I do know this: that
he had enough talent and energy to make a living, and didn't. That he
loved his art more than his wife and family, and that they all starved
together. Is it worse to starve your family for love of liquor than
for love of art? Roper loves his liquor but he fights against it and
makes a handsome income; Garrick gave himself up body and soul to his
love for art, and if it wasn't for his friends Mrs. Garrick would be
working in a sweatshop.

Fulton and I discussed him once (when I was going to the Fulton house a
good deal), but we had to give it up as a topic. Fulton saw something
fine and generous in the man, and could not speak of him without
emotion, while I found it impossible to speak of him without contempt.

Fulton himself fell away from his friends in later years, not
spirituall