nce.
Thrilling with excitement, feeling the mighty significance of my
departure, I entered quietly and took my seat, while the train roared on
through Mitchell and St. Ansgar, the little towns in which I had played
my part as an actor,--on into distant climes and marvellous cities. My
emotion was all very boyish, but very natural as I look back upon it.

The town in which I spent my first night abroad should have been called
Thebes or Athens or Palmyra; but it was not. On the contrary, it was
named Ramsey, after an old pioneer, and no one but a youth of fervid
imagination at the close of his first day of adventure in the world
would have found it worth a second glance. To me it was both beautiful
and inspiring, for the reason that it was new territory and because it
was the home of Alice, my most brilliant school mate, and while I had in
mind some notion of a conference with the county superintendent of
schools, my real reason for stopping off was a desire to see this girl
whom I greatly admired.

I smile as I recall the feeling of pride with which I stepped into the
'bus and started for the Grand Central Hotel. And yet, after all, values
are relative. That boy had something which I have lost. I would give
much of my present knowledge of the world for the keen savor of life
which filled my nostrils at that time.

The sound of a violin is mingled with my memories of Ramsey, and the
talk of a group of rough men around the bar-room stove is full of savage
charm. A tall, pale man, with long hair and big black eyes, one who
impressed me as being a man of refinement and culture, reduced by drink
to poverty and to rebellious bitterness of soul, stands out in powerful
relief--a tragic and moving figure.

Here, too, I heard my first splendid singer. A patent medicine cart was
in the street and one of its troupe, a basso, sang _Rocked in the Cradle
of the Deep_ with such art that I listened with delight. His lion-like
pose, his mighty voice, his studied phrasing, revealed to me higher
qualities of musical art than I had hitherto known.

From this singer, I went directly to Alice's home. I must have appeared
singularly exalted as I faced her. The entire family was in the sitting
room as I entered--but after a few kindly inquiries concerning my people
and some general remarks they each and all slipped away, leaving me
alone with the girl--in the good old-fashioned American way.

It would seem that in this farewell call I was