Mr. Pulitzer's anecdotes about himself always ended in one way. He would
break off suddenly and exclaim, "For Heaven's sake, why do you let me
run on like this; as soon as a man gets into the habit of talking about
his past adventures he might just as well make up his mind that he is
growing old and that his intellect is giving way."
It was this strong disinclination for personal reminiscence which
prevented Mr. Pulitzer, despite many urgent appeals, from writing his
autobiography. It is a thousand pities that he adhered to this
resolution, for his career, as well in point of interest as in
achievement and picturesqueness, would have stood the test of comparison
with that of any man whose life-story has been preserved in literature.
CHAPTER VI
WIESBADEN AND AN ATLANTIC VOYAGE
At last the time came when we had to leave the yacht and make a
pilgrimage to Wiesbaden, in order that Mr. Pulitzer might submit to a
cure before sailing for New York.
The first stage of our journey took us from Genoa to Milan. Here we
stayed for five hours so that J. P. could have his lunch and his siesta
comfortably at an hotel. Paterson had been sent ahead two or three days
in advance to look over the hotels and to select the one which promised
to be least noisy.
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