380 NATHANIEL SOUTHGATE SEALER 



ing and choosing, all must be asked or none at all. Receptions, 

 therefore, had to be resorted to, a very imperfect and, to many 

 a shy student, a formidable device, for recognizing his social 

 existence. On these occasions Mr. Shaler tried to make his 

 guests feel at home, and doubtless succeeded, for they seemed 

 happy, and youths as a rule have n't the power of making 

 believe in such matters ; on the contrary, they are pitilessly in- 

 different to well-meant efforts that don't happen to please. At 

 any rate, the welcome to the home was not altogether barren 

 of results, as is proved by numerous letters and the kind words 

 of men scattered all over the country who seem to remember 

 with pleasure even so slight a courtesy. 



Among many amusing experiences involved in the entertain- 

 ing of students there was one in particular which Mr. Shaler 

 used to relate as a sort of family joke. One Saturday after- 

 noon he mentioned to his wife that he had invited three young 

 men to supper the next evening. When the hostess, somewhat 

 belated, reached the library, instead of three there were four 

 students. In the introduction that followed the names of all but 

 the fourth were distinctly uttered, but his somehow seemed to 

 linger on Mr. Shaler's tongue as if he thought she ought to know 

 it, as belonging to one whom she must have bidden to the feast. 

 This hesitancy and presumption of superior knowledge on the 

 part of the other was not remarkable in the academic world, 

 since a Napoleonic memory only could successfully associate 

 names with the constantly changing faces of the youths who 

 formed the moving procession. One of the young gentlemen 

 was a Japanese, and since he hailed from the farthest East he 

 was given the seat of honor. With the usual politeness of his 

 race he took whatever was offered him, but apparently with- 

 out interest. His interest in fact had almost instantaneously 

 become fixed upon a Japanese picture, a silk, transparent, 

 flowery thing fastened with thumb-tacks on the wall opposite. 

 From its contemplation neither oysters nor chicken salad had 

 the power to allure him. At length, as if endurance had reached 



