, except through trains, and the less
information you get about them the better for you.

You can ask him for his autograph--there is no harm in that--but be
careful and don't remark that it is one of the penalties of
greatness. He has heard that before.

Don't try to kodak him. Hell is full of people who have made that
mistake.

Leave your dog outside. Heaven goes by favor. If it went by merit
you would stay out and the dog would go in.

You will be wanting to slip down at night and smuggle water to those
poor little chaps (the infant damned), but don't you try it. You
would be caught, and nobody in heaven would respect you after that.

Explain to Helen why I don't come. If you can.

There were several pages of this counsel. One paragraph was written in
shorthand. I meant to ask him to translate it; but there were many other
things to think of, and I did not remember.

I spent most of each day with him, merely sitting by the bed and reading
while he himself read or dozed. His nights were wakeful--he found it
easier to sleep by day--and he liked to think that some one was
there. He became interested in Hardy's Jude, and spoke of it with high
approval, urging me to read it. He dwelt a good deal on the morals of
it, or rather on the lack of them. He followed the tale to the end,
finishing it the afternoon before we sailed. It was his last continuous
reading. I noticed, when he slept, that his breathing was difficult, and
I could see from day to day that he did not improve; but each evening
he would be gay and lively, and he liked the entire family to gather
around, while he became really hilarious over the various happenings of
the day. It was only a few days before we sailed that the very severe
attacks returned. The night of the 8th was a hard one. The doctors were
summoned, and it was only after repeated injections of morphine that the
pain had been eased. When I returned in the early morning he was sitting
in his chair trying to sing, after his old morning habit. He took my
hand and said:

"Well, I had a picturesque night. Every pain I had was on exhibition."

He looked out the window at the sunlight on the bay and green dotted
islands. "'Sparkling and bright in the liquid light,'" he quoted.
"That's Hoffman. Anything left of Hoffman?"

"No," I said.

"I must watch for the Bermudian and see if she salutes," he said,
presently. "The captain knows I am here si