NEW YORK, Wednesday—Mrs. Scheider and I found the train to New Haven yesterday afternoon the first really quiet spot we had had to do any work in for some time. I was just getting in to a satisfactory frame of mind when she announced: "In ten minutes we will have to get off", and all the papers had to be gathered up and packed away. As I got off the train a smiling porter said Mrs. Harvey Cushing's car is here", and sure enough there was her chauffeur and he led us straight to the car where Mrs. Cushing was standing with her dachshund in her arms.

We had a delightful hour with Dr. and Mrs. Cushing, their daughter Barbara and a few of their friends. Dr. Cushing introduced me to a young English surgeon and his wife remarking with an amused twinkle in his eye: "These young people have been here less than three weeks, they know all about the United States and even understand its politics." The interesting thing was that when I came to talk to the bright looking young Englishman he had really learned a great deal about us in less than three weeks! He told me with a smile he felt they should waste no time so before they started they got one of our well known metropolitan weeklies and looked up all the theatres, decided on the play they thought sounded most typically "United States" and cabled for seats so within an hour of their arrival in New York City they were in one of our theatres.

As we talked the little dachshund sat looking at his mistress and Dr. Cushing said to me "He is a one man dog. When my wife goes out without him he goes from door to door and cries. It is a terrible thing to have that kind of a dog. More care than a child."

At five we went to Mr. and Mrs. William Ladd where we had another pleasant chat and got ready for the dinner given by the Federation of Teachers at six o'clock. We reached Woolsey Hall at eight thirty and the glee club sang five numbers before my speech. This meeting is held annually for the benefit of a cottage down on the short which is used in winter by students of the Divinity School and in summer by the nurses in the hospital. We had a little while at the Ladds before we caught the ten-forty train back to New York so I was able to change my clothes which made my return trip rather more comfortable, but we found that our train meandered into New York picking up mail at every little station and we were nearly half an hour late. We tried to work for a while and then I found myself going to sleep between my words and decided the letters I dictated would hardly make sense. It is a curious thing that if you are out enjoying yourself one thirty in the morning seems quite early but if you come in on the train and have to sit up until that hour, the station seems deserted and you feel as though no one had any right to be up at that hour of the night.

This morning I went to Maud Swartz's funeral and all her friends besides the members of her family had come from far and near, and were deeply moved. Afterwards I paid a visit to my mother-in-law and to my cousin Mrs. Henry Parish, and returned home in time to have two friends lunch with me.