mind of an infant
was as wonderful and as much an evidence of power as the millioned arch
of radiant suns in the milky way. While speeding through Belgium on our
way to the Rhine, he continued until the sun shone upon the horizon. It
was something to stir one's enthusiasm to see his sublime faith in the
mighty destiny of man, and to listen to him tell of the dignity and
grace of every human soul and his sure faith that all would be garnered
in the mighty plains of heaven, and he meant and felt it all; yes, meant
all he said, believed all he said, believed that he himself was a potent
factor in the Divine economy, and, furthermore, believed it behooved
every man to do all things, to be all things good and true, yet on this
Sunday morning we were fast speeding to the scene of our contemplated
schemes, and with light hearts looked forward to a speedy return to
London, fairly well laden with plunder.

We talked the whole night through, or rather Mac talked and I listened,
and it was a treat to be a listener, he being the speaker.

A period was put to his oration by the train stopping at Luxemburg, we
being summoned to breakfast.

On resuming our journey we took a nap, and when we awoke we found
ourselves nearing the Rhine; about noon we arrived at Cologne, and going
to Uhlrich platz, drank a bottle of Tokay in a famous wine cellar there,
then hurrying back to the station we traveled across the sandy plain
that stretches from near the Prussian border to the capital. We arrived
soon after dark, and Mac went at once to the Hotel Lion de Paris and
registered. I waited across the street in the shadow of the Empress
Palace. Mac soon came out, and we went to dine in a large cafe. We
enjoyed the novelty of the scene, and were never tired of marveling over
the all-predominant militarism. Soldiers everywhere, all with good lungs
and loud voices. We spent the evening seeing the town; at midnight we
parted to meet and breakfast together at the cafe at 8. I then went to
an obscure hotel and soon was in the land of dreams. In the morning I
awoke with an anxious feeling, and found myself wishing it were night.
At 8, the appointed time, I met Mac. He may possibly have felt some
anxiety; if so, it was invisible.

When an honest man makes a mistake he has not only sympathy, but can
always pick himself up again. With a rogue a mistake may easily be and
almost always is fatal. We feared the unseen and the unexpected. Above
all, our imagin