MEN I HAVE PAINTED
expounder of the Prophets who had commenced her career in Philadelphia by giving drawing-room readings of the Scriptures.
When I was first taken by Walter Tyndale to one of these readings in Clifford's studio I was surprised to meet Hannah Smith, whom I had known in Germantown and Philadelphia as a reader at meetings in my aunt's house, where I sometimes made long visits when a boy. This unexpected meeting brought to mind an amusing incident at one of these readings, when Hannah ended a rather long prayer by asking the Lord to remind Mrs. Mercer of the shawl she had promised her, my aunt, at the moment of the petition, being on her knees not more than four feet away from the petitioner.
Clifford loved gardens and flowers passionately. He sought out the most beautiful old and historical gardens in the country and made drawings of them. He had a curious way of arranging flowers in his rooms. Instead of clustering them into bunches or bouquets, he would place fine specimens of roses, carnations, or dahlias singly in long-stemmed glasses in rows along the mantelpieces, or crowd a table with them.
The generation now passing away remembers him as the historian of Father Damien, the self-sacrificing and devoted priest, who immolated himself among the lepers in the hope of improving and brightening their hard lot and inspiring them with hope of a future and better existence.
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