Napoleon revolutionized the art of war by moving quickly and overwhelming the foe with artillery. H. R. made charity a success by appealing not alone to the charitable instinct of New-Yorkers, but to every other instinct he could think of. Therefore everybody who was not hungry logically decided to go to the Mammoth Hunger Feast. The newspapers printed long and reassuring accounts of the police arrangements. H. R., being a republican at heart, had reserved the Imperial Box for Grace Goodchild and her friends, and ninety-nine Royal boxes for the other ticket-sellers and their fiancés. His free sandwich men occupied the front row of arena seats and had been coached by the leader of the Grand Opera claque. At a given signal they were to cheer Grace Goodchild. When the bugle announced H. R.'s entrance they were to go crazy. Ten beers _after_ the show. XXII At half after seven that night H. R., accompanied by eighteen contemporary historians and six magazine psychological portraitists, went to the entrance of the hungry. It was in the rear of the Garden and was dark and narrow. Symbolism! It was the same entrance that a few weeks previously had admitted the circus's beasts; only the beasts were not hungry. Fourth Avenue seethed with humanity. A blind man afflicted with stone deafness could have told that hungry people were there provided his nose worked. The street-cars had stopped running at 6.30 P.M., after the twenty-seventh accident. The crowd was orderly and silent, as really hungry people are. And they had good manners, as the physically weak always have. And they were not impatient, for the prospect of eating always makes the starving hopeful. A merciful darkness covered the hideousness of ten thousand faces. The reporters began to fidget like nervous women at a military play just before the execution. H. R., seizing the exact psychological moment, said to the reporters: "Let us press the button!" It is the modern way--the press and the pressure. He pressed the button. It turned on the lights of an electric sign hung above the entrance. The starving men read in blazing letters: IF YOU ARE HUNGRY AND HAVE NO MONEY WALK IN! By their light the reporters were able to see the faces of the crowd plainly. "My God!" said the young man from the _Times_. The dazzling invitation was so worded as to prevent unseemly haste and unnecessary crowding. It said, "_Walk_ in." "It is easy to assume, gentlemen," said H. R., calmly, to the reporters, "that all these people are hungry." "Yes, let 'em all in!" entreated those reporters who were not jotting down impressions. H. R. shook his head sternly. "We have our duty to the public to perform. We must determine whether they have no money." "Your duty is to feed them _all_," said the _Sun_ man. "You can't afford to make a single mistake. Did you see that white-haired woman--" "Come with me, gentlemen," cut in H. R., leading the way within.