I felt much gratification at seeing Mr. Cable’s silent neutrality change to outspoken friendship. After that, Mr. Cable and Mr. Beecher were very fast friends, and when Mr. Cable brought his family North and settled in Northampton, Mass., I arranged for Mr. Beecher to lecture in that city with the view that Mr. Cable and his family should hear him. It was quite an occasion in Northampton. Mr. Cable invited some friends to meet Mr. Beecher at his house, and the afternoon before the lecture Mr. Beecher planted an elm, which is now a handsome tree on Mr. Cable’s beautiful place in Northampton, and is known as “The Beecher Elm.” Among the first letters that I received at the time of Mr. Beecher’s death were the two following from Mr. Cable: * * * * * “NORTHAMPTON, MASS., “March 7, 1887. “DEAR MAJOR: “Can the sad rumor be true--that Mr. Beecher is stricken with apoplexy? It is dreadful as a mere possibility. How shall one express the feeling of loss that comes to every hearer of such tidings? How shall we send words of sympathy to the family when as to him we are all in a greater degree than of any other one man, his children? He is--I trust we need not yet say was--the fatherliest man to the whole people our land has given us. You will know whether to show this to Mrs. Beecher or not. Yours truly, “G. W. CABLE.” “P. S.--I have just read the sad, sad news.--G. W. C.” * * * * * “NORTHAMPTON, MASS., “March 8, 1887. “DEAR MAJOR POND: “Your letter of March 6th, written at Mr. Beecher’s desk, touches me deeply. I know you are losing in his death the best friend you ever had; a man who had the art of being a friend as few have it. May God turn this great loss to your spirit’s gain, as only He can. I wish you had written me more; but I hope to hear from you again very soon. “The blow seems to strike everywhere. No one fails to feel that the world is losing one of its greatest lights. “This evening I go to read in Meriden. To-morrow I shall be back here. I hope you will find opportunity to come up soon and let me help you in the work--more a labor of love to you now than ever before--which you had projected. “Four of my children are confined with scarlet fever, but the cases are light, and I can assist you, though not in my own house. Yours truly, “G. W. CABLE.” * * * * * When Mr. Cable first began to give public readings he had so little voice that he could not comfortably make himself heard by an audience of two hundred and fifty. He decided that the first thing to do was to secure a training of his voice, which all his life he had been using so injuriously, because so faultily. Many of his friends advised him not to take elocution lessons, but he persisted, with the end in view just mentioned.