In 1906, he was appointed United States Consul at Puerto Cabello, Venezuela, being transferred as Consul to Corinto, Nicaragua, in 1909. While in Corinto, he looked after the interests of his country during the stormy days of revolution which resulted in the downfall of Zelaya, and through the abortive revolution against Diaz. His knowledge of Spanish has been put to use in the translation of a number of Spanish plays. He was the translator for the English libretto of _Goyescas_, the Spanish grand opera produced by the Metropolitan Opera Company in 1915. Mr. Johnson was for ten years the Contributing Editor of the New York _Age_. He added to his distinction as a newspaper writer by winning in an editorial contest one of three prizes offered by the Philadelphia _Public Ledger_ in 1916. His poems have appeared in the _Century_, the _Independent_, the _Crisis_ and other publications. In the spring of 1920, Mr. Johnson was sent by the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People to the black republic of Haiti, where he made an investigation of U. S. misrule. The charges which Mr. Johnson published in _The Nation_, of New York, upon his return were taken up by Senator Harding, and as a consequence a Naval Board of Inquiry was sent to Haiti and a Congressional Investigation promised. The articles published in _The Nation_ have since been republished in a pamphlet entitled, “Self-Determining Haiti.” Mr. Johnson is Secretary of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, a member of the Board of Directors of the American Fund for Public Service (The Garland Fund), and a trustee of Atlanta University. Mr. Johnson’s works include: _The Autobiography of an Ex-Colored Man_ _Fifty Years and Other Poems_ _English Libretto of “Goyescas”_ _The Book of American Negro Poetry_ _The Book of American Negro Spirituals_ _Second Book of Negro Spirituals_ _God’s Trombones (Seven Negro Sermons in Verse)_ FROM THE GERMAN OF UHLAND Three students once tarried over the Rhine, And into Frau Wirthin’s turned to dine. “Say, hostess, have you good beer and wine? And where is that pretty daughter of thine?” “My beer and wine is fresh and clear. My daughter lies on her funeral bier.” They softly tipped into the room; She lay there in the silent gloom. The first the white cloth gently raised, And tearfully upon her gazed. “If thou wert alive, O, lovely maid, My heart at thy feet would to-day be laid!” The second covered her face again. And turned away with grief and pain. “Ah, thou upon thy snow-white bier! And I have loved thee so many a year.” The third drew back again the veil, And kissed the lips so cold and pale. “I’ve loved thee always, I love thee to-day, And will love thee, yes, forever and aye!” THE GLORY OF THE DAY WAS IN HER FACE The glory of the day was in her face, The beauty of the night was in her eyes. And over all her loveliness, the grace Of Morning blushing in the early skies.