“NOW, Horace Greeley----” said Vachel, opening his “morning strafe” of political conversation. “Who the ---- was he?” “You don’t know? Why, you’ll be saying you don’t know Shakespeare next. That’s as if J. C. Squire had never heard of Edwin Booth.” “Well, who was he?” “He edited the _Tribune_ throughout the Civil War.” “That all?” “He said, ‘The way to resume is to resume.’” “That all?” “He said, ‘Go West, young man, and grow up with the country,’ and printed it at the head of his newspaper every day.” “Oh! Did you ever hear of Mudford?” “No.” “What, never heard of Mudford, the famous editor of the _Standard_?” “No.” “Ever heard of Nicol Dunn?” “No.” “He edited the _Morning Post_ in its better days. Ever heard of Frederick Greenwood?” “No.” “Never heard of Frederick Greenwood? Why, he was the greatest journalist England ever produced. He inspired Disraeli with the idea of buying the Suez Canal. If we don’t know about your journalists, I see you don’t know about ours.” The battery was silenced. * * * * * WE walked through five miles of rotten-ripe red raspberries and got thorns in our half-naked knees and carmined our fingers with raspberry juice, and we kept spitting out unpalatable fruits and making uncomplimentary remarks. Then we got to open pine woods and freed our feet of the tangles, and Vachel began to sing softly to himself a children’s processional hymn: We are the Magi, Children though we are. We are the wise men, Following the star. “There are only two of us.” I ventured. “Where do you think the third king has got to?” “That’s King Christopher,” said Vachel, sadly. “That’s our ‘other wise man.’ He is with us, but he’s invisible. He is sitting in Greeley Square or Vesey Street, and it was thinking of him that really started me on Horace Greeley.” “How do you mean?” “Well, he said to all the young Magi, ‘quit seeking a star in the East, Go West and grow up with the country. Get into America; find your spiritual roots.’” “You want to persuade every one to cross the Appalachians?” “Yes,” said Vachel dreamily. “So I brought him along invisibly. He is our invisible playmate.” And he resumed his children’s hymn.