Some people labor long and hard to achieve prominence; others have it thrust upon them. Thus it is with Mr. I. Without doing anything more noteworthy than come to America from Hang How, China and enroll in Johns Hopkins Medical School, Mr. I suddenly finds himself the talk of the newspapers and the subject of learned discussion by philologists.

It is safe to say that the unpretending Mr. I did not seek such distinction. His fame is a mushroom growth, a by-product of his voyage into these strange lands. If he came with premonition that he was to become a public character, it was because he was uninformed how the American public hungers for the superlative--no matter how superlatively insignificant.

Mr. I has not been long in America, but he is a keen observer. Few things escape him. The largest cities, the tallest buildings, the fastest railroads, the colleges, the newest books, the latest fads Mr. I is all ears as he hears Americans string superlative epithets end on end with that naivete which implies that the largest, the tallest, the fastest, the richest, the newest, the latest, must of necessity be the best.

But who is this famous Mr. I? Mr. I is a quiet Chinese student who signs his names with a single straight stroke of the pen. An upright dash, that is Mr. I. That is all, and enough to set grave and learned philologists deliberating. These worthy scholars have bestowed upon Mr. I the superlative degree hence his fame-- by declaring that his "must be the shortest name in existence, as it is composed of but one letter and the letter which uses less ink than any other of the alphabet."

Mr. I says he enjoys America very much.