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massive roast beef dinners with a thick soup and rich desserts, and as we left the table, I barely able to walk, Louise would cluck, "Dorothy, I do hope you are getting enough to eat. You must keep up your strength for all the things you are trying to do." At other times, I was taken to small Italian restaurants in the Village, lighted by candles stuck in empty bottles of Chianti. In spite of the Prohibition law, which was not to be repealed for another decade, there never was any shortage of empty wine bottles.

But by far the most exciting aspect of this vivid time in my life were the people, already famous or soon to be, that I came to meet. I sometimes lunched in the Faculty Club at Columbia, and there I was presented to Dr. John Dewey, the great educator and psychologist. Belle Boaz introduced me to her famous brother, Professor George Boaz, head of the department of sociology in John Hopkins. I do not believe I met Nicholas Murray Butler, the renowned President of Columbia, but I felt that I knew him because his signature