htful and original spirit who does not care to live in a
demure hutch like all the rest of us, and has really had some fun out of
his whimsical little castle. He says he would rather live in Camden than
in Philadelphia, and I daresay he's right.

III

Something in his aspect as he leaned over the railing near me drew me on
to speak to him. I don't know just how to describe it except by saying
that he had an understanding look. He gave me the impression of a man
who had spent his life in thinking and would understand me, whatever I
might say. He looked like the kind of man to whom one would find one's
self saying wise and thoughtful things. There are some people, you know,
to whom it is impossible to speak wisdom even if you should wish to. No
spirit of kindly philosophy speaks out of their eyes. You find yourself
automatically saying peevish or futile things that you do not in the
least believe.

The mood and the place were irresistible for communion. The sun was warm
along the river front and my pipe was trailing a thin whiff of blue
vapor out over the gently fluctuating water, which clucked and sagged
along the slimy pilings. Behind us the crash and banging of heavy
traffic died away into a dreamy undertone in the mild golden shimmer of
the noon hour.

The old man was apparently lost in revery, looking out over the river
toward Camden. He was plainly dressed in coat and trousers of some
coarse weave. His shirt, partly unbuttoned under the great white sweep
of his beard, was of gray flannel. His boots were those of a man much
accustomed to walking. A weather-stained sombrero was on his head.
Beneath it his thick white hair and whiskers wavered in the soft breeze.
Just then a boy came out from the near-by ferry house carrying a big
crate of daffodils, perhaps on their way from some Jersey farm to an
uptown florist. We watched them shining and trembling across the street,
where he loaded them onto a truck. The old gentleman's eyes, which were
a keen gray blue, caught mine as we both turned from admiring the
flowers.

I don't know just why I said it, but they were the first words that
popped into my head. "And then my heart with pleasure fills and dances
with the daffodils," I quoted.

He looked at me a little quizzically.

"You imported those words on a ship," he said. "Why don't you use some
of your own instead?"

I was considerably taken aback. "Why, I don't know," I hesitated. "They
just came into my head