Edmund Clarence Stedman 



between himself and his decidedly 

 less buoyant colleague. He jested, 

 fabled, sparkled, scorned concealment 

 of his delight. Indeed, I verily 

 believe that I then had the rare 

 fortune, at the beginning of our 

 friendship, first, to learn the resources 

 and conviction of his noble mind, 

 and in a trice to enjoy the ebul- 

 lition of his mirth and fancy on 

 some of the happiest days of his 



existence. 



He had with him a Gargantuan 

 letter of credit. From a slip in his 

 wallet he took and showed me a 

 single draft for a thousand pounds, a 

 very sacred special fund, which was 

 to be piously expended for some one 

 work of art, his roc's egg, his su- 

 preme trophy — in fine, the most beau- 

 teous and essential thing he might 

 come upon in this tour. All this as 

 gravely as if he were a Knight of the 

 Grail, or meditating in the end to 

 205 



