The Road I Know

of expression so original and unexpected that the stiffest formalist must yield to it. I suppose it carried so far because it was in no way artificial, or considered, or thought over. It was Betty's normal language, the way she thought, and therefore the way she spoke. Like all wit of that kind, while unforgettable, it is equally unquotable. In report most of it becomes mere museum mountings without the breath of life. But no one was ever bored with Betty. Even though what she had to say might be dryly statistical, one found himself alert for what she would make of it. I lived with her thirty-five years, and--though there was plenty more--in all that time I was always relishingly entertained, and continually anticipating what next.

However, it was not the outer expression but the inner person that made the charm memorable; made it stick, as it were. Apparently people never forgot Betty. She made an indelible impress. After her death I received several hundred letters--and I mean LETTERS pages long, no