flashing his white teeth good-humoredly at the protesting crowd, who, unable to resist the sunshine of his personality, suddenly turned and, putting aside the disapproving banners, cheered him to the echo. It was during that same time, the story ran, that two recreant policemen who left their beats at an inopportune moment were called to the realization of their misdemeanor by coming face to face, in a glass window-case, with a set of false teeth which, they explained, grinned at them with a ferocity so reminiscent of the strong molars of the police commissioner, that they almost fainted at the sight, and hastily returned to their forsaken duties. Many and many a settlement-worker told me in those days that they could go anywhere in the most dangerous parts of the city, during the administration of Theodore Roosevelt, and the police were always on hand, always ready to protect those who needed their care. At that time also I was amused one day when he told me the story about his little Irish stenographer, a young girl whose knowledge of orthography was less than her sympathetic interest in the affairs of the police commissioner! He took a warm interest in the nice young Irish girl, hard worker as she was, an important factor in the support of a large family of younger children, and could not bear to dismiss her from his service, in spite of her alarming mistakes in spelling. He said he always had to look over her manuscript and correct it in spite of his many other cares, and he laughingly remarked that it was well he did, as having dictated the following sentence in connection with a certain policeman, “I was obliged to restrain the virtuous ardor of Sergeant Murphy, who, in his efforts to bring about a state of quiet on the streets, would frequently commit some assault himself,” the young Irish stenographer, listening to the rapid dictation, spelled “some assault” “somersault,” and, as my brother remarked, one could not but laugh at the thought of Sergeant Murphy performing somersaults like a circus clown on Mulberry Street, and, fortunately, the word caught the ever-watchful eye of the police commissioner before the report was printed, and, even in spite of the inconvenience, he set himself to work to improve the young stenographer’s mistaken orthographic efforts. In spite of his busy days and busy nights, he had time, as usual, to write to me when he thought that I needed his care or interest. I was far from well at the time, but was obstinately determined to go up to visit my boys at St. Paul’s School, and he writes me: “Won’t you let Douglas and me go up to St. Paul’s, and you stay at home? If you will do this, I shall positively go for anniversary on June 2nd. I believe you should not go on these trips whether for pleasure or duty, and should take more care of yourself. Your loving and anxious brother.” He himself has given in his autobiography many incidents connected with his police commissionership.