t particular
inn. This was knowledge more becoming in a guide, perhaps, but it will
illustrate the encyclopaedic fullness of his miscellaneous information.

As was natural and becoming in a man born within forty miles of the
metropolis, he liked best the large cities of the East, and was least
content in small Western cities. But this was the outcome of no
illiberal prejudice, and there was a quizzical smile upon his lips and
a teasing look in his eyes when he bantered a Westerner. 'A man,' he
would sometimes say, 'may come by the mystery of childbirth into Omaha
or Kansas City and be content, but he can't come by Boston, New York,
or Philadelphia.' Then, a moment later, paraphrasing his remark, he
would add, 'To go to Omaha or Kansas City by way of New York and
Philadelphia is like being translated heavenward with such violence
that one _passes through_--into a less comfortable region!'

Strange to say, the conversation of this most omnivorous of
book-collectors was less of books than of men. True, he was deeply
versed in bibliographical details and dangerously accurate in his talk
about them, but, after all, the personality back of the book was the
supremely interesting thing. He abounded in anecdote, and could
describe graphically the men he had met, the orators he had heard, the
occasions of importance where he had been an interested spectator. His
conversation was delightfully fresh and racy because of the vividness
of the original impressions, the unusual force of the ideas which were
the copies of these impressions, and the fine artistic sense which
enabled him to determine at once what points should be omitted, and
what words should be used most fittingly to express the ideas
retained.

He had no pride in his conversational power. He was always modest, but
never diffident. I have seen him sit, a respectful listener,
absolutely silent, while some ordinary chatterer held the company's
attention for an hour. Many good talkers are unhappy unless they have
the privilege of exercising their gifts. Not so he. Sometimes he had
almost to be compelled to begin. On such occasions one of his
intimates was wont to quote from Boswell: 'Leave him to me, sir; I'll
make him rear.'

The superficial parts of his talk were more easily retained. In mere
banter, good-humored give-and-take, that froth and bubble of
conversational intercourse, he was delightful. His hostess, the wife
of a well-known comedian, apologized to him for