He looked upon our catastrophe in the light of an adventure.

No anger nor bitterness possessed him.

He was too philosophic and simple to be vindictive, and he lived too much in the world of mind to miss the creature comforts we were giving up.

So it was, when we moved to San Francisco into four wretched rooms in the slum south of Market Street, that he embarked upon the adventure with the joy and enthusiasm of a child--combined with the clear sight and mental grasp of an extraordinary intellect.

He really never crystallized mentally.