the persistence with which my name is associated with the
merely commercial phase of sandwiching. You know the sandwich men
commercially were vermin, and I have taught them to pay for their own
food. I took paupers and unpauperized them."

"And the signs in your parade were great. I told them at the Union
League Club that at least one poor man's parade had shown brains. Not a
single threat! Not one complaint! Not one window smashed! Not one
spectator insulted! It showed genius!" And the editor held out his hand.

"I am a Christian, sir," said H. R., gently.

"Well, I'll shake hands, anyhow, if you'll let me," said the editor,
cordially.

H. R. took his hand and looked so embarrassed that the editor would have
sworn he blushed. This was no publicity-seeker, no fake modesty. Yes,
that must be it--a Christian, the kind editors seldom shake hands with.

"And so," continued H. R., earnestly, "if you please, if you would only
tell your reporters not to mention me in connection with sandwiches I
could do more for the cause. You see, what I did with the sandwiches was
merely the entering wedge. I don't want you to think I am complaining of
your reporters, sir; they have been more than kind to me; but if you
could see your way clear to not speaking about sandwiches as though they
were my personal property--"

"You are the man who gave free sandwiches to New York," smiled the
editor, as though he had said something original.

The situation was more serious than H. R. had believed, but he said,
with dignity:

"I made free men of pariahs, sir. That job is finished. The newspapers
have helped nobly; and to-day, thanks to them, charity is brought daily
before their readers."

"But it is less picturesque than your courtship of Miss Goodchild with
sandwiches."

"There were"--and H. R. smiled deprecatingly--"peculiar circumstances
about my personal relations with Mr. Goodchild. Of course, I also
desired to prove to intelligent but not very original business men that
sandwiching is the most effective form of advertising. It is like all
art, sir. The personal quality gives to it a human appeal that no
combination of printed words on a page can have."

"How do you make that out?" asked the editor.

"When you read a play you see the printed words; but when you see the
same play well acted you find that the same words you have read and
liked reach the public through the senses of sight and of hearing as
well as through the in