A golden age of authors : a publisher's recollection . in New York. Austin Dobson wrote and dedicateda poem to him. On this same European trip Careywas to join me in Rome. My wife and I, with threechildren — the oldest then ten years of age — anda governess, had spent the winter in Mediterraneancountries. At Naples the older little girl fell ill. Wehad made the ascent of Vesuvius on the day of aserious eruption and in the climb from the funicularrailway to the crater we were all more or less over-come by the sulphur-impregnated smoke from thevolcano. We thought this was the cause of the little
A golden age of authors : a publisher's recollection . in New York. Austin Dobson wrote and dedicateda poem to him. On this same European trip Careywas to join me in Rome. My wife and I, with threechildren — the oldest then ten years of age — anda governess, had spent the winter in Mediterraneancountries. At Naples the older little girl fell ill. Wehad made the ascent of Vesuvius on the day of aserious eruption and in the climb from the funicularrailway to the crater we were all more or less over-come by the sulphur-impregnated smoke from thevolcano. We thought this was the cause of the littlegirls illness, but as she did not grow better, wetook the train for Rome, where there was an Ameri-can doctor. On his first call came the shock of ourlives. He was sorry to have to tell us that in allprobability our daughter had contracted smallpox,but he could not be sure until the next day. Theonly cheer he left with us was the announcementthat if his fears were realized he would take thepatient at once to his own apartment (allowable in [34] K. WILLIAM CAREY AT TWENTY-FIVE AND AT FORTY Mark Twain called him the wittiest man he ever knew WILLIAM CAREY Rome, where the thought of a pest-house was tor-ture) and give her back to us in a few weeks. Thencame Carey, full of optimism, comforting. He tookthe other two children off for the afternoon, he waswith us through the evening; at bedtime he mademe go with him for a walk over Rome, — from theVilla Borghese to the Colosseum, through the poorquarter, around St. Peters, up the Janiculum, —all over the city we tramped and he talked. Andafter the burden was lifted and the case proved tobe only a rather serious form of measles, he was un-tiring in his efforts to keep us amused and the chil-dren happy. If one analyzes the quality which William Careypossessed of conferring happiness as he went along,one finds — beyond the bonhomie, the reparteewhich always satisfied and never hurt, the flashesof wit that were long remembered
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