fectly honorable calling. The sonneteer, coming, we believe,
from the unsalt waters of the Wabash, seems to be unaware that the
fisherman at whom he has leveled his tuneful lyre is not seeking fair
tides but clams. We therefore suggest that the closing line of the
sextette be amended to read--

Fair clams reward thy long, laborious days."

Harwood was liked by his fellow students in the law office. Two
Yalensians, already established there, made his lot easier, and they
combined against a lone Harvardian, who bitterly resented Harwood's
habit of smoking a cob pipe in the library at night. The bouquet of
Dan's pipe was pretty well dispelled by morning save to the discerning
nostril of the harvard man, who protested against it, and said the
offense was indictable at common law. Harwood stood stoutly for his
rights and privileges, and for Yale democracy, which he declared his
pipe exemplified. There was much good-natured banter of this sort in the
office.

Harwood was busy filing papers when Mr. Fitch summoned him to his
private room on the day indicated. Fitch was short, thin, and bald, with
a clipped reddish beard, brown eyes, and a turn-up nose. He was
considered a better lawyer than Wright, who was the orator of the firm,
and its reliance in dealing with juries. In the preparation of briefs
and in oral arguments before the Supreme Court, Fitch was the superior.
His personal peculiarities had greatly Interested Harwood; as, for
example, Fitch's manner of locking himself in his room for days at a
time while he was preparing to write a brief, denying himself to all
visitors, and only occasionally calling for books from the library.
Then, when he had formulated his ideas, he summoned the stenographer and
dictated at one sitting a brief that generally proved to be the
reviewing court's own judgment of the case in hand. Some of Fitch's
fellow practitioners intimated at times that he was tricky. In
conferences with opposing counsel, one heard, he required watching, as
he was wary of committing himself and it was difficult to discover what
line of reasoning he elected to oppose or defend. In such conferences it
was his fashion to begin any statement that might seem even remotely to
bind him with the remark, "I'm just thinking aloud on that proposition
and don't want to be bound by what I say." The students in the office,
to whom he was unfailingly courteous, apostrophized him as "the fox." He
called them all "Mister,"