We had both travelled far over the world since he had dined with me in London a couple of years before, and yet our paths crossed in that great meeting-place, the “Waldorf.” It was during his leave from duty which I have just mentioned, and he was very busy. Unfortunately I was leaving the same day for Chicago, but we met again in that city. His enthusiasm for Roosevelt was delightful; “the greatest man on earth,” according to him, “delightful to work under.” They had just been having an hour’s conversation on the telephone, though Washington lies nearly a thousand miles away.
“Won’t you come to Panama and write a book?” he said. “The Canal is to be the revolution of the world’s traffic, and one of the finest spokes in the American wheel.”
Poor old Lesseps; adored over Suez, damned over Panama, and then, thirty years later, to have his dearest scheme realised by America, through the aid of hygienic science. But more of my Lesseps friends in a later volume.
Early in 1908 came a charming letter from Mr. Barrett, then at Washington, part of which may be quoted here:
“... Now I want to tell you something I am sure will delight you. When Mr. Elihu Root, whom I regard as the greatest Secretary of State we have had in fifty years, made his recent trip to Mexico, I placed in his hands your two books relating to that country and President Diaz. Both of these he read with exceeding care, and I heard him say that he found the one on President Diaz most interesting and instructive. He has recommended many men to read them both. We have the two volumes in the Library, and they are consulted with much frequency.
“With kind personal regards, I remain,
“Yours very cordially,
(Signed) “John Barrett.”
John Barrett is now the head of the Great Pan-American Union of American Republics in Washington.
Clara Morris, another personality of the West, was one of the greatest actresses America has produced, and her book was one of the most realistic presentations of stage life. On going to the States in 1900 I wanted to see her, but she had retired. However, when I returned on my second visit, she was back on the stage—the usual story of reverses.
It so chanced I was in Chicago that October, paying a visit to those delightful people the Francis Walkers. Behind the Footlights was selling well in an American edition, and on learning that I was in the city, the managers of the different theatres most kindly sent me boxes. Success cannot adequately be gauged by gold, it brings friends and opportunities beyond mere dross. One night we went to the Illinois Theatre (since destroyed by fire, with frightful loss of life), and occupied Mr. William Davis’s own box, to see The Two Orphans. There was an “all-star” cast.