WHY IS it that Dr. Osler—as he will always be to those of us who worked with him at the Johns Hopkins Hospital—remains in our minds so vividly and everlastingly? Random memories come to me when I think of him on his birthday. Trivial and inconsequential as they are, they emphasize two of his most striking attributes: his gaiety of heart and his friendliness.
I came to live in the southern half of the third floor of the main building of the Johns Hopkins Hospital one day in January 1892. Promptly at 10 p. m. I heard a pair of boots dropped outside the door at the end of the hall, and at 7 o'clock the next morning I heard someone pitter-pattering past my room. At 7:30 the same person was standing in front of the dining-room on the ground floor, waiting for breakfast to be served. The patterer was