Waterbury evening Democrat., 1905-03-29
sang the songs that had been the de light of our childhood.
CHAPTER xxv1I1.

loved MT. Greeley nau RlnO
 ness that filled him to the fin ger tips, When I returned ht smote me on the breast, an unfailinl mark of his favor, aid doubled my salary.
 If he ever smites you on the breast, Michigan had once said to me, "turr the other side, for, man, your fortune is made"
 And there was some truth in the warning.
 He was writing when I came in. A woman sat beside him talking. An i'm mense ham lay on the marble top o1 the steam radiator A basket of eggs sat on the floor near Mir. Greeley's desk. All sorts of merchandise were sent to the Tribune those days for no tice and sold at auction to members Of the staff by Mir. Dana.
 "Yes, yes, madam. Go on, heal you" said the great editor as his per flew across the white page.
 She asked him then for a loan o1 money. He continued writing, but pres ently his left hand dove into his trou sers pocket, coming up full of bills.
 "Take what you want" said he, hold ing it toward her, "and please go, for I am very busy" Whereupon she helped herself literally and went away.
 Seeing me, Mir. Greeley came and shook my hand warmly and praised me for good soldier
 Going downtown?' he said in mo. ment, drawing on his big white over coat. Walk along with me, won't you?'
 We crossed the park, he leading me with long strides. AS he walked he told how he had been suffering from brain fever. Passing St. Paul's church. yard he brushed the iron pickets with his hand as if to try the feel of them. Many turned to stare at him curiously. He asked me soon if I would care to do a certain thing for the Tribune, stopping to look in at show window as answered him. I waited while he did his errand at Broadway shop, then we came back to the office The publisher was in Mr. Greeley's room.
 "Wheres my ham, Dave?" said the editor as he looked at the slab of mar ble where the ham had lain.
 Don't know for sure," said the pub fisher Its probably up at the house of the - editor by this time"
 What did you go an give 1t to him for?' drawled Mir. Greeley in tone of irreparable injury. II wanted that ham for myself" r.
 q didn't give it to him." said the publisher. He came and helped him. self. Said he supposed it was sent in for notice"
 "The internal thief!' Mir. Greeley piped with a violent gesture. "l'll swear if I didn't keep my shirt but toned tight they'd have that too."
 The ham was serious obstacle in the way of my business, and 1t went over until evening. But that and like incidents made me to know the man as I have never seen him pictured-a boy grown old and gray, pushing the power of manhood with the ardors of youth.
 I resumed work on the Tribune that week. My first assignment was q mass meeting in big temporary struc- ture, then called q wigwam. over in Brooklyn. My political life began that day and all by an odd chance. The wigwam was crowded to the doors. The audience had been waiting half an hour for the speaker. The chairman had been doing his best to kill time, but had run out of ammunition. He had sat down to wait. An awkward silence had begun. The crowd was stamping and whistling and clapping with impatience. As I walked down the center aisle to the reporters table they seemed to mistake me for the speaker. Instantly great uproar be- gan. It grew louder every step took I began to wonder and then to fea' the truth. AS I nenred the stage the chairman came forward. beckoning ta me. I went to the flight of steps lead. ing up to that higher level of distin guished citizens and halted, not know ing just what to do. He came and leaned over and whispered down a; me. remember he was red in the face and damp with precipitation.
 What is your name?" he inquired.
 Brewer" said in whisper.
 A look of relief came into his face and am sure look of anxiety camt into mine. He had taken the center o; the stage before I could stop him.