“I don’t think so,” answered Mr. Daniel. “I remember meeting this gentleman on board the Titanic, but I have not seen him since.” Mr. White’s brother grabbed the photographs and rushed away. Many of the men, said Mr. Daniel, refused to jump from the Titanic until the ship was actually disappearing beneath the waves. “They seemed to think they were safer on board,” he said, “and by waiting too long lost their chance of being saved, for they were probably carried down by the suction. Howard B. Case, of New York, was one who declined to jump. C. Duane Williams was another. He was washed overboard, but his son, Richard Norris Williams, jumped and was saved.” Mr. Daniel was in the water or on a cake of ice nearly an hour before he was pulled aboard a lifeboat. He had nothing to keep him from freezing save a light overcoat over his pajamas. While on the Carpathia he slept on the floor of the dining saloon and was so weak when he landed that he could hardly move. When in Philadelphia, Mr. Daniel makes his home at the Southern Club, though he is a native of Richmond, Va., where his mother and brother live. CRAWLED ON TO CAKE OF ICE. “When I finally went on deck,” said Mr. Daniel, “the water already was up to my ankles. I saw the women and some of the men taking to the boats. A short distance away was a big cake of ice. I jumped for it and crawled on it. “John B. Thayer, Jr., came to the same ice cake later, after the Titanic sank. Then a boat passed near and he swam to it and was pulled aboard. A half hour afterwards another boat came by and I was pulled aboard. “It seemed a long time before we saw the masts of the Carpathia, but when the straight masts and the blur of smoke from her funnels were outlined against the horizon, we realized that it meant rescue for all of us. When the boat finally reached us, the men in the boat did what they could to help the women to the vessel, but most of us were almost helpless from the cold and exposure. “I cannot pretend to explain the accident. All I can say is that we knew for five hours before the accident that there were ice fields about. I saw Colonel Astor after I was on the raft. He was still on deck. The water was washing about his knees. He made no effort to get into a boat. “The last I saw of Major Butt,” Mr. Daniel added, “he was playing bridge whist with Clarence Moore, of Washington, formerly of Philadelphia, and widely known as a horse show exhibitor, and two other men. This was just before I went to my cabin. “When I came on deck again, I did not see him. I have no doubt he met his death as a soldier should.” Major Archibald Butt, U. S. A., military aid to President Taft, who lost his life on the Titanic, met his death in a manner that fully justified the President’s estimation of him as expressed in the eulogy given out at the White House, in which the President tenderly referred to his late aide as a man “gentle and considerate,” and as one who was “every inch a soldier.”