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his arms out and said, “I heard of the city called New York and I'm trying to make it Heaven.” It was so touching. All of us were for the moment bound to that strange insight and intuition which he had in the best aspirations of people there present. This particular refrain had repeated itself in a varied form in his mind so that he was able to express this feeling that we had and was able to give it more profignancy than it would ordinarily have.

There was also the time that Raymond Ingersoll was buried. It was a very wet snowy day. I seem to remember that they did not have a funeral in a church. Those who were invited were invited to come to the cemetery, to the graveside. It was snowing, wet and a very dreary day. We got there and we waited, because the mayor, LaGuardia, was coming and he was a bit late. So we were standing around. The grave was at the top of a little rise and the mayor had to walk up this slight hill. He was very heavy and short. He arrived sort of puffing with his big hat on and with the most troubled look on his face.

The proceedings began. He stood there and wept through the proceedings. Then he made a speech. I don't remember exactly what he said, but it was another one of those occasions when he said just the right and most touching thing about Raymond Ingersoll and put him in his real