ide, so to say; in any difficulty, that would
be, that might arise; with "the boys," in a manner of speaking.
Veteran globe trotter and soldier of fortune on the earth's surface,
Mr. Davis suffered a considerable shock to discover in tete-a-tete that
we had never been in London. _London_? Such a human vegetable, we
saw, was hardly credible.

"Charge," he said, "to James Huneker." He pronounced his name in a
very eccentric fashion, the first syllable like that in "hunter." In
our commerce with the world we have, with this rather important
exception, invariably heard this "u" as in "humid." A substantial
figure, very erect in carriage, supporting his portliness with that
physical pride of portly men, moving with the dignity of bulk; a
physiognomy of Rodinesque modelling. His cane a trim touch to the
ensemble. Decidedly affable in manner to us. "Very nice man,"
comments our hasty note. "One of our young gentlemen here, black eyes,
black hair."--describes with surprising memory of exact observation a
fellow-serf--"was to get a book for me a couple of months ago." Bought
the Muther monograph on Goya. Referred humorously to his new book--one
on music. Said, "Many people won't believe that one can be equally
good, or perhaps bad, at many things." Spoke of Arnold Bennett; said
he was "a hard-working journalist as well as a novel writer." Seemed
to possess the greater respect, great esteem, for the character of
journalist. We felt a reminiscence of that solid practicality of
sentiment of another heavy man. "Nobody but a blockhead," said Dr.
Johnson, "ever wrote except for money."

Mentioned the novel then just out, "Predestined." "He [the author] is
one of our [_Sun_] men, you know." Fraternal pride and affection in
inflection, though he said he did not know Mr. Whitman. "Thank you
very much indeed," he said at leaving.

From his carriage, moving slowly in on the arm of a Japanese boy, his
servant, came one day John La Farge. Tales of the Far East. Profound
erudition, skin of sear parchment, Indian philosophies, exotic culture,
incalculable age, inscrutable wisdom, intellectual mystery, a dignity
deep in its appeal to the imagination--such was the connotation of this
presence. (Fine as that portrait by Mr. Cortissoz.) An Oriental
scholar, all right, we thought. Mr. La Farge was in search of some
abstruse art books. He did not care, he said, what language they were
in, except German. He said he hated