en I would prowl down the road with my electric torch, to meet him coming home; he would signal in the distance with his torch, and I with mine. Then the walk back together, s

re our friends could reach us-if they could stand the climb. The love of a nest we built! We were longer in that house than anywhere else: two years almost to the day-two years of such happiness as no other home has ever seen. There, around the redwood table in the living-room, by the window overlooking the Golden Gate, we had the suppers

wimming-tank in b

"Mother, there never really was such a baby, was there?" he would ask ten times a day. She was not born up on the hill; but in ten days we were back from the hospital and out

was around practically all the time for six weeks, that there was nothing but joy every minute of the day in our home. I do not know how I can make people understand, who are used to just ordinary happiness, what sort of a life Carl and I led. It was not just that we got along. It was an active, not a passive state. There was never a home

we had many little family jokes. Limping meant that I was to look in every pocket until I unearthed a bag of peanut candy. Usually he was laden with bundles-provisions, shoes from the cobbler, a tennis-racket restrung, and an a

Psychology of Insanity," several books by Freud, McDougall's "Social Psychology," etc. I remember Carl's seminar the following spring-his last seminar at the University of California. He had started with nine seminar students three years before; now there were thirty-three. They were all such a superior pick

s "Social Psychology,"-two weeks to that,-Lippmann's "Preface to Politics," Veblen's "Instinct of Workmanship," Wallas's "Great Society," Thorndike's "Educational Psychology," Hoxie's "Scientif

ten years longer, each season would have found me in his class. His influence on my intellectual life was by far the most stimulating and

Tuesday evenings. So every Tuesday night about a dozen boys climbed our hill to rediscuss the subject of the seminar of that afternoon-and everything else under the heavens and beyond. I laid out ham sandwiches, or sausages, or some edible dear to the male heart

s wrote to me af

d to two men who were associated with him in somewhat the same manner as I was, and we simply looked at one another after the first sentences, and then I guess the thoughts of a man who had made so much of an impression on our minds drove coherent speech away. . . . I have had the opportunity since leaving college

ents of those years I should like

all we do over here,-we who knew him,-and a reason for our doing, too. His loss is so great to all of us! . . .

one. He influenced, as you know, everything I have done since I knew him-for it was his enthusiasm which has been the force which dete

some flowers and went away. . . . I simply could not leave Seattle without seeing Carl once more, so I made up my mind to go out to the undertaker's. The friends I was with discouraged the idea, but it was too strong within me. There was a void within me which could only be filled by seeing my friend once more. I wen

tion to work which no other person or thing has ever given me. And it is a joy and an inspiration I shall always keep. I sel

to quote from was written by

t myself by your side a moment and to try to share a great sorrow which is mine almost as much

on Sunday morning to find you both, and the youngsters-the day just before I graduated when mother and I had lunch at your house ... and, finally, that day I left yo

lly confident poise with which he defied all comers-that inexhaustible and incorrigib

he neck as often as not, out of a slough of middle-class mediocrity, and sent careering off into some welter or current of ideas and conjecture. Carl didn't know where they would end

again! ["Born again"-those were his very words.] I entered college thinking of it as a preparation for making more money when I got out. I've come across a man named Parker in the faculty and am taking every