"You must be a fish out of the water." "Few like me, I imagine, in the university pond.

Sometimes I am fairly sure I am out of water, and that I should belong in Paris, in Grub Street, in a hermit's cave, or in some sadly wild Bohemian crowd, drinking claret,--dago-red they call it in San Francisco,--dining in cheap restaurants in the Latin Quarter, and expressing vociferously radical views upon all creation.

Really, I am frequently almost sure that I was cut out to be a radical.

But then, there are so many questions on which I am not sure.

I grow timid when I am face to face with my human frailty, which ever prevents me from grasping all the factors in any problem--human, vital problems, you know." And as he talked on, Martin became aware that to his own lips had come the "Song of the Trade Wind":- "I am strongest at noon, But under the moon I stiffen the bunt of the sail." He was almost humming the words, and it dawned upon him that the other reminded him of the trade wind, of the Northeast Trade, steady, and cool, and strong.