The real and original Red Cross was, therefore, according to this journal, ready now to become national, and it warned Miss Clara Barton that it had the right of way. It also published a portrait of the real founder of the Red Cross, a gentleman born in England, who had come to this country when young, and engaged in “several enterprises which proved successful,” none of which were named; studied law, but gave it up; studied medicine, but apparently did not practice. He was, however, according to this journal, a very great and widely known man; and his portrait showed him with so many badges and decorations upon his right breast he would surely have had difficulty in drawing his sword. He was the “Organizer and Supreme Commander.” A “Grand Promenade Concert” was given in his honor in a very obscure hall in one of the American cities, with a programme which the magazine printed in full, consisting chiefly in a recitation (selected) by Miss Sadie Merryman; a song (selected) by Miss Mary C. Andrews; a reading (selected) by Miss Mary Prescott; a piano solo (selected) by Miss Mary C. Andrews; a reading (selected) by Elmer E. Prescott, and selected songs with guitar by the Misses Biederman and father. Besides these there was an “Address of Welcome,” and a “Response” by the much-decorated “Organizer and Supreme Commander.” Clara Barton had a sense of humor. She could not only smile but laugh heartily at competition of this bombastic character. She collected and filed the literature, and it may be presumed that her files contain the only preserved mementoes of this organization which served notice on her that her Red Cross was an innovation. But, nevertheless, this was a warning, and one which she had occasion to heed. For immediately a considerable number of competing organizations sprang up in several parts of the country, and some of them gave her great anxiety. She was not superstitious, and apparently did not notice that the second Friday in January, 1882, fell on the 13th. But she recorded that it was a bad Friday for her. Two days before, she had notice that the wife of a United States Senator desired to call on her, and bring one or two other ladies with her. She had moved into her new quarters that very week, and not all her household goods were in place; so she hastened to put up her curtains and finish her unpacking; for it had rained on Monday when she expected to move, and her plans had been disarranged. Friday afternoon the wife of the Senator came, and with her another lady.