MISSOURI BOTANICAL GARDEN BULLETIN 121 
He was always present when health permitted, enjoying 
himself in seeing others enjoy what he had provided; and 
was especially pleased when a large audience gathered 
around the stand which he had adorned with marble busts 
of the great composers, to listen to their masterpieces. Per- 
haps the handsomest compliment ever offered him, and the 
one most highly appreciated, was the serenade at Tower 
Grove some two years ago by Gilmore’s band, then giving 
their annual series of concerts at the Exposition. It was a 
lovely October day, with cloudless skies and mild yet in- 
vigorating air; the foliage just beginning to assume the 
many-colored livery of autumn, but still retaining the lux- 
uriant growth of summer. Mr. Shaw was seated upon the 
lawn in front of the mansion, with a few friends about him, 
while at proper distance in front were grouped the sixty- 
five members of that famous orchestra. As the strains of 
soul-inspiring music saluted the ear of the venerable gentle- 
man for whom they were primarily intended, his face lighted 
up with an expression of pleasure too deep for words, and 
he leaned forward in his chair as if unwilling to lose the 
faintest note of the divine harmony. The picture of which 
he was the central figure can never be forgotten by those 
who saw it; ‘‘onece seen, became a part of sight.’’ 
From youth, until extreme age prevented, Mr. Shaw at- 
tended the theatre whenever the performance was of suf- 
ficient merit to attract him. He liked all good plays well 
played, but preferred comedy to tragedy; thinking there 
is enough real sorrow and suffering in the world without 
paying to see the unreal article upon the stage. He wanted, 
especially in his latter years, to be amused rather than 
deeply interested, and a hearty laugh was worth more to him 
than all the woes of ‘‘Hamlet’’ or ‘‘Lear.’’ So it came to 
pass that of the four bronze bas-reliefs on the pedestal of 
the Shakespeare statue, the most conspicuous place is as- 
signed to the one representing the late Ben DeBar in the 
character of ‘‘Falstaff.’’ A friend, who was himself at 
that time the oldest living actor, good-naturedly remon- 
strated with him. ‘‘Why, Mr. Shaw,’’ said he, ‘‘I knew 
DeBar well, and I liked him, too; he was a first-rate comedian 
in his line, but not a great dramatic artist by any means. 
