interest in every one he met and in everything that was going
on about him. And in the broadest sense he saw to it then, as
he did throughout his life, that he always did his share.

During those early days at Bethlehem his letters to his family
were full of his social activities, with occasional references
to his work at school. He was always going to dinners or
dances, entertaining members of visiting theatrical companies;
and on Friday night my mother usually received a telegram,
saying that he would arrive the next day with a party of
friends whom he had inadvertently asked to lunch and a
matinee. It was after one of these weekly visits that my
mother wrote Richard the following:


Monday Night.
MY DARLING Boy:


You went off in such a hurry that it took my breath at the
last. You say coming down helps you. It
certainly does me. It brings a real sunshine to Papa and me.
He was saying that to-day. I gave Nolly a sort of holiday
after her miseries last night. We went down street and got
Papa a present for our wedding day, a picture, after all, and
then I took Miss Baker some tickets for a concert. I saw her
father who said he "must speak about my noble looking boy." I
always thought him a genius but now I think him a man of
penetration as well. Then Nolly and I went over to see the
Russians. But they are closely boxed up and not allowed