g my pocketbook wrapped up all the time in an old red flannel
shirt."

Here Mr. Gould arose and went out of the room for a long time, and I
could hear him pacing up and down outside, stopping now and then to peer
through the keyhole to see if I had gone away. But in each instance he
was gratified to find that I had not. Lest any one should imagine that I
took advantage of his absence to peruse his private correspondence, I
will say here that I did not do so, as his desk was securely locked.

Mr. Gould's habits are simple and he does not hold his cane by the
middle when he walks. He wears plain clothes and his shirts and collars
are both made of the same shade. He says he feels sorry for any one who
has to wear a pink shirt with a blue collar. Some day he hopes to endow
a home for young men who cannot afford to buy a shirt and a collar at
the same store.

He owes much of his neuralgia to a lack of exercise. Mr. Gould never
takes any exercise at all. His reason for this is that he sees no
prospect for exercise to advance in value. He says he is willing to take
anything else but exercise.

Up to within a very few years Jay Gould has always slept well at night,
owing to regular hours for rising and retiring and his careful
abstinence from tobacco and alcohol. Lately neuralgia has kept him awake
a good deal at night, but prior to that he used to sleep as sweetly and
peacefully as a weasel.

The story circulated some years ago to the effect that a professional
burglar broke into Mr. Gould's room in the middle of the night and
before he could call the police was robbed of his tools, is not true.
People who have no higher aim in life than the peddling about of such
improbable yarns would do well to ascertain the truth of these reports
before giving them circulation.

The story that Mr. Gould once killed a steer and presented his hoofs to
the poor with the remark that it would help to keep sole and body
together, also turned out to have no foundation whatever in fact, but
was set afloat by an English wag who was passionately fond of a bit of
pleasantry, don't you know.

Thus it is that a man who has acquired a competence by means of honest
toil becomes the target for the barbed shaft of contumely.

Mr. Gould is said to be a good conversationalist, though he prefers to
close his eyes and listen to others. Nothing pleases him better than to
lure a man on and draw him out and encourage him to turn his mind wrong
side out