tter of introduction from the Consul-General was handed to me by a
manly, polished-mannered gentleman, on whose playful features there
mingled a look of amused surprise, with a tinge of well-covered
roguishness and complacency, that bespoke the cultured man of the world.
The note, addressed to my hotel, said that the Consul took pleasure in
introducing to me Mr. William Willard Howard, of New York. Although
never having met we were by no means strangers. He had worked on the
Eastern fields of Armenia in the hard province of Van, while I was in
Constantinople, and our expeditions in the great centre districts of
Harpoot and Diarbeker. He evidently felt that the surroundings were a
little rough and unexpected for a first meeting, but collecting
himself, at once rallied me with the grand opportunity I was affording
him for a sensational letter to the States, with a cartoon of the
president of the American National Red Cross in a Cuban warehouse, with
dress pinned back, "opening boxes." He admitted that the latter stroke
of the picture was a little stretch of imagination, but he hoped it
might realize, as he really wanted it for his cartoon. After a few
moments of pleasant badinage he left, under pretext of not hindering me
in my favorite occupation of "opening boxes."

The next day I was detained at home by an accumulation of clerical work
and heavy mails to be gotten off (I had as yet no clerk), but on the
return of the men at night they reported a marvelous day's work. That
Mr. Howard had come early in the morning, thrown off his coat, and,
calling for a box opener, had opened boxes all day. They had never seen
a better day's work. A messenger was immediately dispatched to his
hotel, inviting Mr. Howard to come and dine with us. From that time on,
during his stay, he continued to dine with us. We compared methods of
relief work with the experiences we had gained, and when we separated it
was with the feeling on my part that any work of relief would be a
gainer that could enlist men of such views, experience and ca