He admired the American short story, and I remember that he declared: 'The Americans know how to plunge into a short story.

We Germans are too long-winded.'" When Professor Smith talks about the Kaiser, you say to yourself: "I know that it is growing late, but I cannot bear to leave until I have heard the rest of this"; when he drifts presently to O.Henry, you say the same; and so it is always, no matter what his subject.

At last, however, the grandfather's clock in the hall below his study sends up a stern message which is not to be mistaken, whereupon you arise reluctantly from your comfortable chair, spill the cigar ashes out of your lap onto the rug, dust off your clothing, and take your leave.

Nor is your regret at departing lessened by the fact that you must go to your bilious-colored bedroom in the New Gleason, and that you will not see the university, or Professor C.Alphonso Smith, or Mrs.Smith again, because you are leaving upon the morrow.
So it must always be with the itinerant illustrator and writer.

They are forever finding new and lovely scenes only to leave them; forever making new and charming friends only to part with them, faring forth again into the unknown..