the massageur, I
think.

We are really going to build a house on my farm, an hour & a half
from New York. It is decided.

With love & many thanks.
S. L. C.

Naturally enough, with continued practice I improved my game, and he
reduced my odds accordingly. He was willing to be beaten, but not too
often. Like any other boy, he preferred to have the balance in his
favor. We set down a record of the games, and he went to bed happier if
the tally-sheet showed him winner.

It was natural, too, that an intimacy of association and of personal
interest should grow under such conditions--to me a precious boon--and
I wish here to record my own boundless gratitude to Mrs. Rogers for her
gift, which, whatever it meant to him, meant so much more to me. The
disparity of ages no longer existed; other discrepancies no longer
mattered. The pleasant land of play is a democracy where such things do
not count.

To recall all the humors and interesting happenings of those early
billiard-days would be to fill a large volume. I can preserve no more
than a few characteristic phases.

He was not an even-tempered player. When the balls were perverse in
their movements and his aim unsteady, he was likely to become short with
his opponent--critical and even fault-finding. Then presently a reaction
would set in, and he would be seized with remorse. He would become
unnecessarily gentle and kindly--even attentive--placing the balls as
I knocked them into the pockets, hurrying from one end of the table to
render this service, endeavoring to show in every way except by actual
confession in words that he was sorry for what seemed to him, no doubt,
an unworthy display of temper, unjustified irritation.

Naturally, this was a mood that I enjoyed less than that which had
induced it. I did not wish him to humble himself; I was willing that
he should be severe, even harsh, if he felt so inclined; his age, his
position, his genius entitled him to special privileges; yet I am
glad, as I remember it now, that the other side revealed itself, for it
completes the sum of his great humanity.

Indeed, he was always not only human, but superhuman; not only a man,
but superman. Nor does this term apply only to his psychology. In
no other human being have I ever seen such physical endurance. I was
comparatively a young man, and by no means an invalid; but many a time,
far in the night, when I was ready to drop wi