teresting to me to see in what awe men of this type
or profession are held by many in the more intellectual walks of life as
well as by those whose respectful worship is less surprising,--those who
revere strength, agility, physical courage, so-called, brute or
otherwise. There is a kind of retiring worshipfulness, especially in men
and children of the lower walks, for this type, which must be flattering
in the extreme.

However, in so far as Culhane was concerned at this time, the case was
different. Whatever he had been in his youth he was not that now, or at
least his earlier rawness had long since been glazed over by other
experiences. Self-education, an acquired politeness among strangers and
a knowledge of the manners and customs of the better-to-do, permitted
him to associate with them and to accept if not copy their manners and
to a certain extent their customs in his relations with them. Literally,
he owned hundreds of the best acres of the land about him, in one of the
most fashionable residence sections of the East. He had already given
away to some Sisters of Mercy a great estate in northern New York. His
stables contained every type of fashionable vehicle and stalled and fed
sixty or seventy of the worst horses, purposely so chosen, for the use
of his "guests." Men of all professions visited his place, paid him
gladly the six hundred dollars in advance which he asked for the course
of six weeks' training, and brought, or attempted to, their own cars and
retinues, which they lodged in the vicinity but could not use. I myself
was introduced or rather foisted upon him by my dear brother, whose
friend if not crony--if such a thing could have been said to exist in
his life--he was. I was taken to him in a very somber and depressed mood
and left; he rarely if ever received guests in person or at once. On the
way, and before I had been introduced, I was instructed by my good
brother as to his moods, methods, airs and tricks, supposed or rumored
to be so beneficial in so many cases. They were very rough--purposely
so.

The day I arrived, and before I saw him, I was very much impressed with
the simplicity yet distinction of the inn or sanitarium or "repair
shop," as subsequently I learned he was accustomed to refer to it,
perched upon a rise of ground and commanding a quite wonderful panorama.
It was spring and quite warm and bright. The cropped enclosure which
surrounded it, a great square of green fenced with hig