I remove my hat to his genius when I recall an instance of John’s impromptus. One afternoon a well-known clergyman called and joined me in my walk over the cobblestones in the prison yard. We talked long and earnestly—the dominie and I—and smoked large black cigars. Old John arrived with a party of eager visitors. Old John was in a state of prime satisfaction; business was good and his pilgrims were appreciative. After pointing me out, he was asked if the minister was Molineux’s spiritual adviser. Oh, John, what inspired you to sin, and have you ever confessed it? Was it the dominie’s cigar? “Do you see that reverend gentleman? He was arrested this morning for throwing his mother-in-law out of the third-story window; he will get twenty years at least.” The horror-stricken visitors looked at the calm, intellectual face at my side and gasped. Not one of them had curiosity about me after that. I was a poor worm in comparison with my more awful companion. I wonder what they will say should they enter Dr. ----’s beautiful church some Sunday and see him in the pulpit. John never “smiles.” Wait a minute! Hold on about that! About once a month he is missed over night; they say he does “smile” periodically, and then very frequently indeed; the next morning every one in the Tombs accuses him of gallantry. No wonder; John has a very handsome goatee, and knows it. We accuse him of gallantry. How immensely pleased he is, and how modestly he protests! “Methinks he doth protest too much.” I asked him once about the matter. “Is it true, John, these things I hear about you?” This was his reply: “Some says I do and some says I don’t.” You will never get Old John to compromise himself. I suspect he has, like many of us, taken the “third degree” at some time during his long life. I said to him, “John, you have been here a long time, and must have acquired quite a lot of money; why don’t you go home and settle down?” Could Solomon excel the reply? “Because they would take away the little I have and send me back for more.” I shall not be more definite about my friend’s age, for two reasons. The first is that he would not like it; the second, that I do not know it—no one does, no one remembers when he first came. There is much speculation in the Tombs as to Old John’s financial status; on this question he keeps his own counsel; he can always change a $50 bill; perhaps he is your landlord.