trouble is having nothing
to leave. I am fond of superstitions--the little ones. They give
interest to life, if you have to spend it in one place. A little
unreason is less monotonous than the eternally reasonable, and if it
makes you happy for a minute to see the moon over your right shoulder,
why not see it, and be unreasonably happy?

From a Letter to Mrs. Margaret W. Lemon

222 WEST 23RD STREET,
NEW YORK, Feb. 20, 1900.

My dear Mrs. Lemon:

I am very glad you are to formulate the resolution of thanks and
appreciation of the work of the Reception Committees. Of course it
goes without saying that it will be spread upon the minutes.

The work was altogether so fine and painstaking, and showed such
thought, care, taste and judgment, that, apart from my personal
pleasure in it, I felt exceedingly proud, and happy at the complete
and beautiful result... I am sorry you do not like "Current Events."
To me "Current Topics" means the fag end of everything we know and
have been obliged to read about in the papers. "Current Events" has a
broader significance, and leaves out the trivial and vulgar.

Sincerely yours,
J. C. CROLY.

From a Letter to Mrs. E. S. Willard

BELLA-VISTA, BOSTON HARBOR, MASS.,
August 28, 1901.

... As yet I think I am still in London; or at least still in England.
Crossing the Atlantic is not so much of an undertaking; less than
taking a "trip" with "crossing" changes. Packing and unpacking, and
the harassing "customs" are the worst features. There were only
fifty-six passengers on the _Minneapolis_, but it took us from 8 A.M.
to 1 P.M., in a pouring rain, to pass the argus-eyes of one hundred
and eight inspectors, about two to each passenger.

In my case it seemed a bit ironical,--one of Thomas Hardy's "Little
Ironies," for a _rapid_ American trustee had lost my whole capital
during my absence... The necessity for tying up the ragged ends and
applying a test brought me home. But it is a trial, though I seem to
have lost the power to be unhappy. Do you know what that means? Is
that unarmed neutrality the serenity of Heaven?

I am as yet living in England. My thoughts are there, and my desire. I
see you and a few others whom I love come and go, and I exchange the
loving word, the kindly smile, the sympathetic look.

I am waiting for an indication of where I am to end my days. If my
steps turn towards the isles of the sea, you will be