meals, my exercise. He would throw
intruding visitors downstairs as average men shoo chickens or scare
cats. He was a bundle of profanity and unrest until after the lecture.
Then we would go to our room, and he would talk like a windmill. He
would crawl into his bed and I into mine, and then he would continue
telling Beecher stories half the night, comparing me with Beecher to my
great disadvantage. A dozen times I have heard him tell how Beecher
would say, "Pond, never consult me about plans or explain details--if
you do, our friendship ceases." Beecher was glad to leave every detail
of travel to Pond, and Pond delighted in assuming sole charge. Beecher
never audited an account--he just took what Pond gave him and said
nothing. In this Beecher was very wise--he managed Pond and Pond never
knew it. Pond had a pride in paying Beecher as much as possible, and
found gratification in giving the money to Beecher instead of keeping
it. He was immensely proud of his charge and grew to have an idolatrous
regard for Beecher. Pond's brusk ways amused Beecher, and the Osawatomie
experience made him a sort of hero in Beecher's eyes.

Beecher took Pond at his true value, regarded his wrath as a child's
tantrum, and let him do most of the talking as well as the business. And
Beecher's great welling heart touched a side of Pond's nature that few
knew existed at all--a side that he masked with harshness; for, in spite
of his perversity, Pond had his virtues--he was simple as a child, and
so ingenuous that deception with him was impossible. He could not tell a
lie so you would not know it.

He served Beecher with a doglike loyalty, and an honesty beyond
suspicion. They were associated fourteen years, traveled together over
three hundred thousand miles, and Pond paid to Beecher two hundred forty
thousand dollars.

* * * * *

Beecher and Tilton became acquainted about the year Eighteen Hundred
Sixty. Beecher was at that time forty-seven years old; Tilton was
twenty-five. The influence of the older man over the younger was very
marked. Tilton became one of the most zealous workers in Plymouth
Church: he attended every service, took part in the Wednesday evening
prayer-meeting, helped take up the collection, and was a constant
recruiting force. Tilton was a reporter, and later an editorial writer
on different New York and Brooklyn dailies. Beecher's Sunday sermon
supplied Tilton the cue for his next day's