et back I will send you some." I
had quite forgotten when, many months after, there came to me a crate
containing enough to last me a life-time.

He had a retentive memory and rarely forgot anything. I could recall
many pleasurable incidents of our prolonged and varied intimacy. We were
one day wandering about the Montmartre region of Paris when we came
into a hole-in-the-wall where they were playing a piece called "Les
Brigands." It was melodrama to the very marrow of the bones of the
Apaches that gathered and glared about. In those days, the "indemnity"
paid and the "military occupation" withdrawn, everything French
pre-figured hatred of the German, and be sure "Les Brigands" made
the most of this; each "brigand" a beer-guzzling Teuton; each hero
a dare-devil Gaul; and, when Joan the Maid, heroine, sent Goetz von
Berlichingen, the Vandal Chieftain, sprawling in the saw-dust, there was
no end to the enthusiasm.

"We are all 'brigands'," said Pulitzer as we came away, "differing
according to individual character, to race and pursuit. Now, if I were
writing that play, I should represent the villain as a tyrannous City
Editor, meanly executing the orders of a niggardly proprietor."

"And the heroine?" I said.

"She should be a beautiful and rich young lady," he replied, "who buys
the newspaper and marries the cub--rescuing genius from poverty and
persecution."

He was not then the owner of the World. He had not created the
Post-Dispatch, or even met the beautiful woman who became his wife. He
was a youngster of five or six and twenty, revisiting the scenes of his
boyhood on the beautiful blue Danube, and taking in Paris for a lark.

III

I first met General Grant in my own house. I had often been invited
to his house. As far back as 1870 John Russell Young, a friend from
boyhood, came with an invitation to pass the week-end as the President's
guest at Long Branch. Many of my friends had cottages there. Of
afternoons and evenings they played an infinitesimal game of draw poker.

"John," my answer was, "I don't dare to do so. I know that I shall fall
in love with General Grant. We are living in rough times--particularly
in rough party times. We have a rough presidential campaign ahead of us.
If I go down to the seashore and go in swimming and play penny-ante with
General Grant I shall not be able to do my duty."

It was thus that after the general had gone out of office and made
the famous journey round the