San Francisco water . of this old friend whohad so influenced his life. The sole data hehad gotten together so far was a clipping ofthe poem Sterling had writen on him. It was one stanza, penned after Bierces supposedsuicide: Were his a reason to embraceThe Romans dignity of death,Whose will decreed his final breath,Determining the time and place,Be sure his purpose was a pride,A matter not of fear but finding mire upon the waste,And hating filth, he turned aside. Sterlings sudden and last illness morti-fied him. He had planned for weeks to behost to his close friend, Henry Louis Me
San Francisco water . of this old friend whohad so influenced his life. The sole data hehad gotten together so far was a clipping ofthe poem Sterling had writen on him. It was one stanza, penned after Bierces supposedsuicide: Were his a reason to embraceThe Romans dignity of death,Whose will decreed his final breath,Determining the time and place,Be sure his purpose was a pride,A matter not of fear but finding mire upon the waste,And hating filth, he turned aside. Sterlings sudden and last illness morti-fied him. He had planned for weeks to behost to his close friend, Henry Louis Menc-ken. He was inadequate to the task. We hadplanned a dinner for him for Tuesday night,and Mencken called at the club with DrewChidester and Gobind Lai to bring him tothe rendezvous. Mencken smote at the door,but there was no answer. Its no use, said the critic; he has lock-ed himself in. He was up and about yester-day, but from the look on his face, I fear weshant see him much longer. SAN FRANCISCO WATER July, 1928. Participants in the ceremony: Uda Waldrop, Mrs. Uda Waldrop, Haig Patigian, Charles Bulott When Mencken learned the news the nextmorning, steel-nerved philosopher and cynicthough he may be, he was greatly affected. A noble fellow, and I came across thecontinent on purpose to see him. Sterling was an artist, among the mostfinished and erudite poets in the country. Attimes he was terribly ashamed of being re-garded as a poet. He was proud of his mus-cles—and a finely set-up fellow he was—up to five years ago, a clever boxer, good atsailing a yacht, a mighty walker. And hehad his practical streak. He knew figures,and could draw them up with the skill of achartered accountant. When Jack London built the big damacross his ranch at Glen Ellen, it was Ster-ling who made the plans and ordered thematerials with such shrewdness that whenthe job was done—and a staunch, handsomedam it was—not a pound of nails or a sackof concrete was left over. His feet were firmly on
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