rous and jovial. No one loved more to give presents; no one
knew more droll stories and more poetry. Nor was his joviality by any
means a descent; for not only before royalty was he dignified, but in
the most democratic assembly. His was not, however, a forbidding
dignity. Simple-hearted as a child, he was fond of children, and they
were fond of him.

Of course, he kept up his miscellaneous reading. He was specially
devoted to poetry; and loved not only to recite verse upon verse aloud,
but also to read to his friends and associates. As usual, his
enthusiasm spread to others. One old lady has told me that she never
had thought much of poetry till she heard him read it. Burns and Edwin
Arnold and Tennyson were favorites; and there is a letter written by
Eads to Tennyson, apparently to send him a clipping in which the one
was described reciting from the other's poems. Eads excuses himself for
intruding with his tribute, and remarks that both of them have built
works destined to outlive their authors. He says it quite modestly and
candidly, "as equal comes to equal; throne to throne."

Yet despite the confidence of their builder, despite his cheerfulness,
the Jetties were not getting along well. To be sure, they were steadily
deepening the channel, and thereby proving to all ingenuous persons who
were undeceived that jetties were what had long been needed, and that
they should be helped along and finished. But the Jetties were situated
far off in a remote marshland where few people saw them; consequently
nearly everybody was either deceived or was disingenuous. People who
had no business to interfere did interfere. Every hitch was shouted
abroad, every success was concealed or twisted. Concrete difficulties
were enormous. Sudden storms at just the wrong time delayed and undid
the work. The need for more money was pressing, and it could be
borrowed only at exorbitant rates of interest. The newspapers were
clamoring that the rash experiment was a failure; and though, of
course, it was not a failure, still it might have fallen through, when
one day the Cromwell liner, Hudson, drawing over fourteen feet of
water, came in through the Jetties, and they were saved.

Although the prestige of the undertaking was thus established, Eads
realized that his contract with the government was too severe. Not that
he asked to be paid beforehand for his work, but he did ask to be paid
as the work was actually done. So evident were his ener