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110 MISSOURI BOTANICAL GARDEN BULLETIN 
English girl, and for that reason avoided making female 
friends, fearing he might fall in love and thus spoil his well- 
defined plans.’’ 
The capital which bought the ‘‘small stock of eutlery”’ 
and gave the young man his first start in life, was furnished 
by his uncle, Mr. James Hoole, who lived to see the splen- 
did success of the perilous investment, and for whose memory 
his nephew cherished the profoundest respect. 
While, very naturally and properly, the main object of 
Mr. Shaw at this the decisive period of his career was to 
‘“‘make money,’’ and thereby secure that financial inde- 
pendence necessary for the accomplishment of higher pur- 
poses, and while in order to do this he willingly denied 
himself many youthful enjoyments, he did not push his 
prudent self-denial beyond reasonable limits. Then and 
always he knew how to harmonize business and pleasure, 
how to use both without abusing either, and so to obtain 
the benefits of both with the fewest possible disadvantages. 
He never believed in the popular American doctrine of ‘‘all 
work and no play,’’ nor did he adopt the equally foolish 
American idea which postpones the play until work has de- 
stroyed all desire for it. He had his time for business and 
his time for pleasure, and never allowed one to interfere 
with or encroach upon the other. St. Louis in those days 
was small in population, but large enough in the material 
for social enjoyment. The dominant element was French ; 
with all that the name implies in warm hospitality, simple 
courtesy, fondness for innocent amusement, and that invin- 
cible light-heartedness which no care or trouble, however 
heavy, ean altogether subdue. His knowledge of the lan- 
guage was no less useful in social than in commercial affairs, 
and combined with uniform politeness and entertaining con- 
versation soon made him as much at home in this little frag- 
ment of far-away France as if he were a Frenchman born. 
The finest garden in St. Louis then belonged to Madame 
Rosalie Saugrain; and her daughter—the late Mrs. Henry 
Von Phul—remembered how the young Englishman, on his 
daily afternoon horseback rides into the open country be- 
yond what is now Seventh Street, would stop at the garden 
fence, admire the beautiful flowers, and exchange pleasant 
