een only
recently described in _McClure's Magazine_ by Ida M. Tarbell.) "I am
sure that the members of his family will forgive me for telling, now
that he has laid down his great work and gone to rest, some things
about him which I feel that the public should know but which he always
forbade me to mention while he lived.

"The first time I ever met Mr. Rogers was in this manner: about
fifteen years ago a large meeting was held in Madison Square Garden
concert hall, to obtain funds for the Tuskegee Institute. Mr. Rogers
attended the meeting, but came so late that, as the auditorium was
crowded, he could not get a seat. He stood in the back part of the
hall, however, and listened to the speaking.

"The next morning I received a telegram from him asking me to call at
his office. When I entered he remarked that he had been present at the
meeting the night previous, and expected the 'hat to be passed,' but
as that was not done he wanted to 'chip in' something. Thereupon he
handed me ten one-thousand-dollar bills for the Tuskegee Institute. In
doing this he imposed only one condition, that the gift should be
mentioned to no one. Later on, however, when I told him that I did not
care to take so large a sum of money without some one knowing it, he
consented that I tell one or two of our Trustees about the source of
the gift. I cannot now recall the number of times that he has helped
us, but in doing so he always insisted that his name be never used. He
seemed to enjoy making gifts in currency."

In an article published in _McClure's Magazine_ in May, 1902,
Rear-Admiral Robley D. Evans thus describes the occasion on which he
presented Booker Washington to Prince Henry of Prussia: "The first
request made by Prince Henry, after being received in New York, was
that I should arrange to give him some of the old Southern melodies,
if possible, sung by Negroes; that he was passionately fond of them,
and had been all his life--not the ragtime songs, but the old Negro
melodies. Several times during his trip I endeavored to carry out his
wishes, with more or less success; but finally, at the Waldorf-Astoria,
the Hampton singers presented themselves in one of the reception rooms
and gave him a recital of Indian and Negro melodies. He was charmed.
And while I was talking to him, just after a Sioux Indian had sung a
lullaby, he suddenly turned and said: 'Isn't that Booker T. Washington
over there?' I recognized Washington and replied that