Low Tides 



inside New Willard walls ! Fortunately 

 I was not compelled by my official 

 duties to remain there but one sum- 

 mer. That, however, was quite enough 

 to last me a lifetime. And to this 

 day, no matter where it may be heard, 

 the humming of an electric fan carries 

 me forthwith to the hotel rooms in 

 which I lived the best part of four 

 years while trying to do my bit for 

 Uncle Sam. Up around The Highlands 

 and at the summit of the Park, or 

 even on the Speedway down along the 

 Potomac, there was some chance of 

 finding the necessary oxygen, but one 

 could not ride all night, and so it came 

 to pass that the Willard and its fans 

 and the blessed bath tub are associated 

 now and forevermore in my mind with 

 hot weather. 



There was another and a brighter 

 side, however, to these Washington 

 experiences. Hard and grinding as was 

 the work; impossible as it must always 

 be to give general satisfaction in the 



[51] 



