Lord of himself, though not of lands,
And having nothing, yet hath all.

Such was the Happy Man as Sir Henry Wotton described him. Such, I
think, was the life of our friend. I think it must have been a happy
life, for he gave so much happiness to others.


[Illustration]



ADVENTURES AT LUNCH TIME


This window by which we sit is really very trying to our spirit. On
a clear fluid blue day the sunlight pours over the cliffs and craggy
coves and angles of the great buildings round St. Paul's churchyard.
We can see the temptation of being a cubist painter as we study all
those intersecting planes of light and shadow. Across the way, on
Fulton Street, above the girl in a green hat who is just now
ingurgitating a phial of orangeade, there are six different roof
levels, rising like steps toward the gold lightning bolts of the
statue on top of the Telephone and Telegraph Building. Each of
these planes carries its own particular impact of light or shadow.
The sunshine seems to flow like an impalpable cataract over the top
of the Hudson Terminal, breaking and shining in a hundred splashes
and pools of brightness among the stone channels below. Far down the
course of Church Street we can see the top floors of the Whitehall
Building. We think of the little gilt ball that darts and dances so