by which the two can pass the barrier. I can imagine
Harold cursing on the other side, and welcoming
the more subtle assistance of his finely fibred
friend.

"I feel like the last of the Three Musketeers, the
other two gone down in their duel with Death. I
am wondering if, within the next two years, I also
shall get the challenge. If so, I shall go to the competing
ground the more cheerfully that two such
good fellows await the outcome on the other side.

"Ever your friend,

"ROBERT BARR."

The last of the Three Musketeers is gone, now, although he outlived his
friends by some years. Robert Barr died in 1912. Perhaps they are still
debating a joint return.

There could be, perhaps, no better close for a paper on Stephen Crane
than the subjoined paragraph from a letter written by him to a Rochester
editor:--

"The one thing that deeply pleases me is the
fact that men of sense invariably believe me to be
sincere. I know that my work does not amount to
a string of dried beans--I always calmly admit it--but
I also know that I do the best that is in me
without regard to praise or blame. When I was