now far outside the little town clasping my Swinburne in my hand.
I record this story not to brag of my memory for all gifts are handicaps in life; but to show how land Western Americans were to young folk and because the irresistible, unique appeal of Swinburne to youth has never been set forth before, so far as I know.
In a comfortable room at the Eldridge House, in the chief street of Lawrence, I met my brother: Willie I seemed woefully surprised by my appearance: "You're as yellow as a guinea; but how you've grown", he cried. "You may be tall yet but you look ill, very ill!"
He was the picture of health and even better-looking than I had remembered him: a man of five feet ten or so with good figure and very handsome dark face: hair, small moustache and goatee beard jet black, straight thin nose and superb long hazel eyes with black lashes: he might have stood for the model of a Greek god were it not that his forehead was narrow and his eyes set close.
In three months he had become enthusiastically American, "America is the greatest country in the world", he assured me from an abyssmal ignorance; "any young man who works can make money here; if I had a little capital I'd be a rich man in a very few years; it's some capital I need, nothing more". Having drawn my story out of me especially the last phase when I divided up with the boys, he declared I must be mad. "With five thousand dollars", he cried, "I could be rich in three years, a millionaire in ten. You must be mad; don't you know that everyone is for himself in this world: good gracious! I never heard of such insanity: if I had only known!"
For some days I watched him closely and came to believe that he was perfectly suited to his surroundings, eminently fitted to succeed in them.
