Contains numerous uncollected letters, some of which contain verse which appears only here. My acquaintance with Mr. Riley began by correspondence. I began it. A ridiculously young editor, with soaring ambitions and the least money imaginable, I was gravely trying to conduct the literary departments of a Chicago weekly. I had a yearly allowance for my editorial purchases, and so long as I kept within that sum I was permitted to have whatever my eighteen-year-old tastes dictated and my purse would buy. I decided to have a Riley poem. To this end I skimped and saved until I had amassed the staggering sum of twenty-five dollars, which without any preliminary negotiations, I sent to Mr. Riley with a polite note requesting twenty-five dollars worth of his very best poetry. I had no idea of the temerity of my request. That twenty-five-dollar check looked big enough to me to buy ‘In Memoriam’ or ‘Paradise Lost.