and which disturbs even me when I see a picture of a big steamship, hear the distant fog horns on the river, or chance to wander in among some crowded docks piled high with bunches of bananas and pineapples, peopled with dark Portuguese or Spaniards lolling in the sun.
Burr had just enough income of his own from Grandmother's legacy to follow the call to his soul of strange people and strange countries. He traveled for twelve entire months after commencement, while I stayed at home listening to Mother's and Father's sneers, Uncle Ned's smiles, Susan's disparaging remarks, gazing with hungry eyes at the bright-colored postal cards that Burr sent to me, and glowing at his occasional descriptions of long, warm, star-lighted nights, low red moons, rippling water, guitars, dark-eyed girls. I understood just what an idyllic existence Burr was living. I could feel the lure of it, bound up here at home with the family, between our morocco covers. But in spite of that, I wanted above everything else that that brother of mine should come home and put an end to the smiles and sneers.
There wasn't a happier member in our family than I when Burr announced, one day in September, two months after he returned, that he had
