power,
bull-dog, hold-on, never-let-go fighting power, and his high, full
forehead of intellectual, mightily intellectual power; and they are
re-enforced with cheek-bones and nose which suggest that this fighting
power has in it something of the grim ruthlessness of the North American
Indian. The eyes, however, are the crowning characteristic of the man's
physical make-up.

One must see Mr. Rogers' eyes in action and in repose to half appreciate
their wonders. I can only say they are red, blue, and black, brown,
gray, and green; nor do I want my readers to think I put in colors that
are not there, for there must be many others than those I have
mentioned. I have seen them when they were so restfully blue that I
would think they never could be anything but a part of those skies that
come with the August and September afternoons when the bees' hum and the
locusts' drone blend with the smell of the new-mown hay to help spell
the word "Rest."

I have seen them so green that within their depths I was almost sure the
fish were lazily resting in the shadows of those sea-plants which grow
only on the ocean's bottom; and I have seen them as black as that
thunder-cloud which makes us wonder: "Is He angry?" And then again I
have watched them when they were of that fiery red and that glinting
yellow which one sees only when at night the doors of a great, roaring
furnace are opened.

There is such a kindly good-will in these eyes when they are at rest
that the man does not live who would not consider himself favored to be
allowed to turn over to Henry H. Rogers his pocket-book without
receiving a receipt. They are the eyes of the man you would name in your
will to care for your wife's and children's welfare. When their
animation is friendly one would rather watch their merry twinkle as they
keep time to their owner's inimitable stories and non-duplicatable
anecdotes, trying to interpret the rapid and incessant telegraphy of
their glances, than sit in a theatre or read an interesting book; but it
is when they are active in war that the one privileged to observe them
gets his real treat, always provided he can dodge the rain of blazing
sparks and the withering hail of wrath that pours out on the offender.
To watch them then requires real nerve, for it is only a nimble,
stout-hearted, mail-covered individual that can sustain the encounter.

I have seen many forms of human wrath, many men transformed to terrible
things by anger, bu