PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 
 
 BY 
 CORNELIUS VANDERBILT, Jr« 
 
 NEW YORK 
 GEORGE SULLY AND COMPANY
 
 Copyright, 1922, by 
 GEORGE SULLY AND COMPANY 
 
 PRINTED IN U. S. A.
 
 Pa/ 
 
 ^17 4 
 
 To Her 
 
 who inspires and aids me 
 
 in my chosen work 
 
 My Wife 
 
 408545
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 In the following pages I have set down a 
 few of the more interesting experiences which 
 have been allotted to me during the last three 
 years of my career in the news-gathering world. 
 
 Coleridge tells us that human experience, 
 like the stern lights of a ship at sea, too often 
 illuminates only the path we have passed over. 
 These sketches might well be termed, then, the 
 enterprises from which I have emerged suc- 
 cessfully; the others, and they make up the 
 minutes of a reporter's daily life, are usually 
 colorless, so I have omitted describing them. 
 
 For assistance in the preparation of this 
 book I am indebted to many people, among 
 them the late J. K. Ohl, managing editor of 
 the former New York Herald; John M. Sid- 
 dall, editor of the American Magazine; John 
 N. Wheeler, president of the Bell Syndicate; 
 and E. B. McLaughlin, of the Seattle Times; 
 and my thanks are due to them for their per- 
 
 vii
 
 Vlll INTRODUCTION 
 
 mission to use such portions of this volume as 
 originally appeared in periodicals and a series 
 of newspaper articles. 
 
 The Author 
 Dec. I, 1 92 1
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Introduction vii 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 I Molding a Reporter i 
 
 II Checkmate 14 
 
 III The Forgetful Idealist .... 25 
 
 IV Into the Frozen North .... 41 
 V Hypocrisy 51 
 
 VI Just a Husband 66 
 
 VII The Bribe 80 
 
 VIII The Reception on the Sound . . 95 
 
 IX Reporting Riots 108 
 
 X A Soldier of Freedom 124 
 
 XI Small Fry 135 
 
 XII A Victim of Artificiality . . . 148 
 
 XIII Squirrel Food 164 
 
 XIV A Foreign Buyer i77 
 
 XV The Copy-Reader 188 
 
 XVI The Fighting Mayor 201 
 
 ix
 
 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 MOLDING A REPORTER 
 
 Service in some form or other should be the 
 keynote of every worthwhile thing in life, and 
 newspaper work gives one a greater scope for 
 serving the public at large, and molding opin- 
 ion, than any other present-day occupation. 
 
 To become a great editor, with a clear and 
 impartial vision of national and local issues is 
 a reporter's highest ambition. Some of us 
 strive even higher, to become publicists and 
 interpreters of great questions affecting our 
 people. 
 
 Eventually, I hope by hard study and diligent 
 effort to become a publicist if that is within my 
 realm of opportunity. Again, I have an am- 
 bition to control a newspaper syndicate, through
 
 f 
 
 2 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 which I could contribute to the best papers in 
 the country, irrespective of size or circulation. 
 
 At best, the carving of one's career is a diffi- 
 cult task. I found it a harder task than I 
 anticipated. But the glorious privilege of being 
 independent, of earning one's way in the world 
 by a process of brain and bodily energy. Is the 
 chief attribute of journalism. At first I found 
 it hard to convince the editors that my writing 
 was not a fad; that I was perfectly serious and 
 sincere about It and was really embarking on 
 a life of work. Those editorial moguls of the 
 oak-desk shot sidelong glances at me as if to 
 question my veracity and my ability to write 
 the brand of news they demanded. 
 
 I secured my first position on the former 
 New York Herald, and was obliged to write 
 my name on a waiting list, the staff being filled. 
 I was instructed to drop In every few days 
 until a vacancy occurred. Within ten days 
 E. W. H., whom I had known for some time, 
 left the city staff to accept a position with an 
 advertising agency. He informed Mr. J. K. 
 Ohl, the Herald's managing editor, that he had 
 a friend who would take his place, who was 
 a "cub" but willing to learn journalism from 
 the very bottom.
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 3 
 
 At 10 o'clock on the morning of the next day 
 I was engaged and took my seat behind an 
 antiquated typewriter in the City Room of the 
 old Herald Building to await instructions. 
 They were not long in coming. In those days 
 the dynamic autocrat of the Herald was its 
 City Editor, "Billy" Willis. The "cubs" wor- 
 shipped and feared him at the same time. His 
 particular domain was a box-like chamber ad- 
 joining the City Room. He swayed imperial 
 power over this region and did it with efficiency. 
 I well remember his first words of encourage- 
 ment: 
 
 "When you can cover eighteen assignments 
 in one day you can consider yourself a full- 
 fledged reporter. Until then you will be our 
 "star-cub." 
 
 I bowed my obsequious acknowledgments, 
 and my knees quaked visibly. I reflected that 
 eighteen assignments were not any too many as 
 I gazed about me and noted a battalion of suc- 
 cessful reporters who had not stopped at that 
 number. I aspired to be successful, too. Be- 
 sides I had covered thrice eighteen assignments 
 in a day's run while serving as a private over- 
 seas. 
 
 I am a wiser "cub" since that memorable
 
 '4 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 interview. I have learned that my City Editor 
 exaggerated a bit. Six assignments constitute 
 a good day's labor on a metropolitan news- 
 paper. 
 
 The City Room is the main artery of the 
 modern newspaper. Everything that passes 
 through this ever-grinding news-mill is ex- 
 amined to the core before it passes on and into 
 print. The average daily paper thrives best 
 on the live local news gathered by its reporters; 
 telegraphic news and other items come next. 
 Every iota of news that will attract the reader 
 is pieced together here and worked into shape 
 for the eagle eyes of the copy-readers. For be 
 it known, that the copy-reader is important 
 enough to bask in the shadow of the City 
 Editor. To the "cub" reporter he is the big- 
 gest Roman of them all, for he is the fellow 
 who "trims" your copy; he is the man with a 
 squad of blue pencils and the cruelest of 
 scissors. 
 
 The copy-readers in most newspaper offices 
 are seated round a table shaped somewhat like 
 a horseshoe. Soft lights shine just over their 
 heads, day and night. Pots of library paste are 
 everywhere. The Herald copy-readers were
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 5 
 
 a lugubrious array of ancient scribes, whose 
 pet phrase seemed to be "better next time." 
 
 Little cables connected their table with the 
 composing room upstairs. Throughout the 
 night and wee hours the "copy" was placed in 
 the boxes attached to the cable and sent to the 
 gigantic presses that "crushed" out the news 
 with a thundering noise that shook the building. 
 
 All over the City Room were the busy little 
 news-tickers, similar to those that tick out stock 
 reports. Local happenings not covered by the 
 staff men came in over these tickers. The As- 
 sociated Press and United Press, the City News 
 and Standard News added their songs to those 
 of the fifty or more typewriters that drummed 
 away ceaselessly throughout the night. This 
 humdrum at first confuses the "cub"; after- 
 ward he learns to love it. A newspaper office 
 is the best place in the world to learn concen- 
 tration. Working always against time he 
 must concentrate, in spite of every noise 
 under the sun going on at the same time. 
 
 My career as a news-gatherer has been a 
 series of exciting sensations, and I should not 
 advise one to enter the newspaper world unless 
 he or she is ready for an overflow measure of 
 mental and physical exercise. In the past two
 
 6 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 and a half years I have never worked harder 
 in my life; and I have never enjoyed anything 
 half as well as "running down" a fresh news 
 scent for a great city daily. 
 
 My first story — everything in the daily 
 routine is referred to as a "story" — was an 
 interview with an African potentate on his first 
 visit to New York City. The Assistant City 
 Editor, who had the patience of Job, assigned 
 me to the McAlpin Hotel to interview General 
 Harab-Ushin. I needed no urging, foFTwas 
 doubly keen to discover whether the science of 
 reporting was easy or difficult. 
 
 Within a few minutes I had reached the 
 suite occupied by the gentleman of African 
 estate and complexion. For the first time I 
 discovered that competition guides news-getting 
 as it does any other business. Fully eight re- 
 porters from other papers were lined in the 
 corridor, on either side of the mystical doorway 
 leading to the general's apartment. Standing 
 near us was a chocolate-eyed servant wearing 
 a weird red and gold costume and a jungle 
 appearance, who sleepily gazed at us through 
 the corners of his eyes. 
 
 We waited an hour thus. Then the door 
 opened and a valet inquired whether the head
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER ^ 
 
 waiter or the stenographer had sent us. Before 
 we could reply he desired to learn whether we 
 spoke French or Spanish. I understood French 
 and a scribe from over Brooklyn way had taken 
 a correspondence course in Spanish; so we en- 
 tered the apartment of the distinguished Afri- 
 can — all foreigners interviewed by the modern 
 American newspaper are dubbed "distin- 
 guished." 
 
 The general, a small man of broad propor- 
 tions, was seated on a sofa, togged out in a 
 uniform as resplendent as a vaudeville come- 
 dian's. He bowed graciously and with a French- 
 Spanish patois desired us to take down a state- 
 ment he had prepared for the press. He 
 evidently had mistaken our calling, assuming 
 we were a coterie of hotel stenographers. We 
 did not correct his mistake. The statement fin- 
 ished he thanked us volubly, ordered his valet 
 to recompense us for the work, and arose as a 
 signal for us to go. 
 
 The reporter from the Brooklyn paper gave 
 me the first inkling of the highly complicated 
 machinery of news-gathering when he politely 
 informed the general that it was customary for 
 all visiting dignitaries to place their honorable 
 photographs with the hotel stenographers for
 
 8 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 future reference. But the the general had no 
 photograph that did him justice. A few min- 
 utes later I happily summoned a Herald 
 cameraman and, escorting the African to the 
 hotel roof, we "shot" a number of photos of 
 him. 
 
 When he saw himself pictured on the front 
 page of the following morning's paper the 
 ceremonious African must have thought to him- 
 self that reporters grew like mushrooms in this 
 enterprising Republic. 
 
 This "story" was my initiation into the 
 mysteries of news-gathering. It demonstrated 
 to me that the foremost asset of a good re- 
 porter is plenty of resourcefulness, and an ever- 
 ready nerve to meet any situation, however 
 difficult. Later I learned that this active work 
 increased my mental functions, for, if any- 
 thing, it is bound to make one alert, with a 
 skipper's eye for details and analysis. It cer- 
 tainly broadens the vision and opens up new 
 fields every day in which to test one's wits. 
 
 At first the hours appeared tediously long. 
 Even though every minute contributed its meed 
 of news, there were times when one had to wait 
 hours for a "top-head" story to come along. 
 During these times I polished up on my news-
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 9 
 
 paper "adjectives" by frequent visits to the 
 well-filled library, and to the "morgue" where 
 the "has been" material is stocked and recorded 
 for future use. I watched my more experi- 
 enced colleagues at work — to-day many of them 
 have important positions at the head of their 
 professions. In journalism I have met some 
 of the most interesting people I have ever 
 known. 
 
 Many young women were learning the pro- 
 fession of news-writing in the old Herald office, 
 for the late James Gordon Bennett, and after 
 him his Herald Committee, believed in giving 
 both sexes a fair chance to enter the journalistic 
 field. Often, outside of New York City, I 
 have been told that women never could become 
 successful newspaper writers as they were too 
 soft-hearted and too much inclined to "sob- 
 stuff." My opinion is that, on certain subjects, 
 women surpass men as reporters. It is safer 
 to assign a woman to a crime confession, 
 for people are inclined to talk more freely 
 and frankly in the presence of women. In 
 some cases it is better to have a woman 
 interview politicians; for these gentry usually 
 underestimate the mental capacity of the 
 gentler sex, as a result of which they are wel-
 
 10 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 corned by a jolt when they read the interview 
 in the paper next morning. 
 
 For several weeks a young woman worked 
 close by me on the Herald. I observed that 
 she had a lively interest in her work. She was 
 a cripple in body but certainly not in mental 
 efficiency. She successfully executed some very 
 difficult criminological work for the paper. To- 
 day she stands high in her new profession — 
 that of one of the foremost criminologists of 
 Richmond, Virginia. 
 
 I have stated that the hours were long, and 
 I want to impress this upon all who desire to 
 enter journalism. Since June, 19 19, I have 
 seldom worked less than twelve hours a day, 
 the usual time in the office has been from two 
 P.M. to two A.M., though the hours vary more 
 or less. 
 
 He is a lucky "cub" that succeeds in securing 
 a day off once a week. I have worked every 
 Christmas, New Year's, Thanksgiving, July 
 Fourth and all other holidays, including nearly 
 every Sunday in the year. The City Desk is 
 no respecter of time or person. 
 
 We had a set of rules on the old Herald to 
 govern a reporter's copy. Most of these rules 
 had been prepared by Mr. Bennett, who had
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER ii 
 
 certain fixed ideas about news and the style in 
 which it was to be written. These rules have 
 since been done away with. One remained, 
 that all-meaning word "terseness." We "cubs" 
 were instructed, even admonished, from time 
 to time, to state a fact and to state it quickly. 
 Newspapers cost money to produce, and space 
 is extremely valuable. A "padded" story is 
 not read merely for the sake of reading; it is 
 better to economize on words and punctuation. 
 It gives the story more strength. Apart from 
 this the reporter is left to his own devices, in- 
 itiative and peculiar personal style. There is 
 one unwritten law in a newspaper office : he 
 that succeeds in getting a good story must also 
 write and embellish it. 
 
 Interviews are interesting, and probably 
 more engrossing than anything except a "crime" 
 story. I detest crime and all its synonyms, 
 nevertheless there is something about running 
 down and writing a "crime" story that appeals 
 to all reporters. Possibly it's the excitement. 
 I was once tendered some valuable advice with 
 respect to interviewing. I was instructed never 
 to express a personal opinion during an inter- 
 view, which could be construed as belonging to 
 the interview; that the successful interviewer
 
 12 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 religiously abided by this rule, and if he had 
 any ideas on the subject at all they could be 
 injected into the text while writing the story. 
 I was advised never to theorize one way or the 
 other unless I was fully informed as to both 
 sides of the question, for the commonest fault 
 committed by inexperienced reporters is rush- 
 ing into a story without knowing its two 
 sides. 
 
 As I went along I discovered that journalism 
 awakened a latent interest in world questions, 
 which has grown in intensity with the years. 
 I attacked the deep-rooted question of politics 
 and began to have a glowing admiration for 
 people who did those constructive things that 
 were of daily record in our newspaper. Fur- 
 thermore, I learned that to become a recog- 
 nized all-round scribe meant that I must forego 
 the ambition to specialize. I readjusted the 
 groundwork of my earlier "cub" days and pre- 
 pared to write on all subjects in the clearest, 
 matter-of-fact style. 
 
 The molding of public opinion is done not 
 only by the erudite editor but by the less dig- 
 nified but fresh-from-the-beat-reporter, as well. 
 Usually the young "cub" entering upon his 
 career is afforded every opportunity to develop
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 13 
 
 himself into the finished product. For who 
 knows but that this self-same "cub" may not 
 have in him the germ of future greatness; who 
 knows but that he may not develop into a great 
 editor, or publicist, or leader of the people?
 
 i^^ 
 
 |^.<^ CHAPTER II 
 
 AT 
 
 CHECKMATE 
 
 Two of the mightiest dreadnoughts of the 
 United States Navy stole into the harbor of 
 Seattle, Washington, on a warm summer's 
 evening in 1920. The wireless had announced 
 their approach as they steamed down the coast, 
 but it was thought their destination was San 
 Francisco and that they would proceed thence 
 without entering Puget Sound. 
 
 But those prophecies went wrong. They 
 veered from their course and, entering the 
 Sound, dropped anchor off Seattle. Much 
 speculation was rife in the various newspaper 
 offices as to the reason for the unexpected visit. 
 In the office of the Seattle Times reporters 
 were on keen-edge, each hoping to obtain the 
 coveted assignment to go aboard the big ships 
 and to solve the question of their visit. 
 
 "Boys," suddenly broke in the City Editor, 
 "Josephus Daniels, Secretary of the Navy, and 
 John Barton Payne, Secretary of the Interior 
 
 14
 
 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 15 
 
 are on board. 'Mac,' you are assigned to 
 cover the story. Perhaps Vanderbilt would 
 like to accompany you." 
 
 Indeed, I was but awaiting the opportunity. 
 Secretary Daniels and Mr. Payne had sailed 
 for Alaska a few weeks previously and their de- 
 parture was veiled in as much mystery as their 
 sudden return. 
 
 All that evening we paced the Navy Dock in 
 a vain effort to learn something of the distin- 
 guished visitors. The guard had instructions 
 to permit no visitors on board. Our questions 
 went unanswered. We returned home that 
 night dejected and news-less. 
 
 Shortly after sunrise next morning we were 
 on the dock, nimbly scouting for fresh signs of 
 news. Offshore the Battleship New York lay 
 peacefully heaving on her anchor. Just astern 
 of her was another great ship. Eight fast de- 
 stroyers completed the majesty of the marine 
 picture before us. 
 
 Some of the reporters were on their way 
 across the bay in a chartered launch, but "Mac" 
 and I waited on the dock for a navy launch to 
 come alongside. We predicted rightly, for at 
 seven bells a large crew-boat hove in. Only 
 one guard was stationed on the dock, and he
 
 i6 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 attached enough importance to our press 
 badges to permit us to board the boat. Before 
 long we were at the gangway of the New York. 
 
 Then our fortune changed. A frigid-looking 
 officer asked our business. We told him and 
 two minutes later the coxswain was hustling us 
 ashore. Thus ended escapade Number One. 
 
 We had to get aboard that ship somehow or 
 our alleged fame as news-getters would perish 
 on the spot. Shortly after nine o'clock a 
 photographer appeared on the float with a 
 heavy consignment of photographic parapher- 
 nalia. A group of civilians soon joined him. 
 A launch appeared, the party scampered on 
 board and we did likewise. Again we sallied 
 over to the elusive gangway. There was that 
 inscrutable officer still holding the fort. We 
 smirked at him to disguise our faces, but it 
 didn't work. 
 
 "Get out of here, you fellows. The next 
 time I see you out here you'll be in for a duck- 
 ing. Now get!" 
 
 We did. The Sound waters are beautiful 
 but cold. However, our zeal was still un- 
 dampened. News we had to get, come what 
 may. We decided to risk another chance. 
 Close by we discovered a battleship launch
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 17 
 
 loading bottles of water. We trotted down 
 there to assist in the loading like a couple of 
 rustics from the interior who had seen salt 
 water for the first time. The junior officer in 
 charge looked askance at us several minutes 
 and then asked us why we manifested such an 
 exalted ambition for work. 
 
 "We've never been aboard one of them there 
 battleships, and we want to see what they look 
 like from the inside," declared the resourceful 
 "Mac." 
 
 The unsuspecting officer fell. After order- 
 ing us to stow a huge basketful of bread on 
 board, he added that he would try to arrange 
 for an unofficial visit, if but for a few moments. 
 The launch set out and we resigned ourselves 
 to fate, with a reportorlal prayer on our lips. 
 Being a duty boat the craft drew up on the port 
 side of the dreadnought, on the opposite side 
 from the insurmountable gangway and its gold- 
 braided sentinel. 
 
 A choppy sea was running and we had some 
 difficulty In gaining a foothold on the slippery 
 gangway. The bread basket was heavy and the 
 gangway narrow, and after some delay we 
 managed to reach the deck. As we were about 
 to descend for the second basket our nemesis,
 
 1 8 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 the starboard gangway officer, approached us. 
 We had visions of an icy bath. I can say that 
 our shadows almost "froze to the deck" as he 
 passed without recognizing us. He saw our 
 Ignoble backs only, for at that moment both 
 of us were concentrated on the mountainous 
 topography of the country opposite Seattle. 
 
 With this danger passed a kindly officer of 
 elderly mien stopped and inquired the nature 
 of our business. He evidently thought we were 
 a pair of young Canadians. 
 
 "We have been helping carry provisions 
 aboard," replied "Mac." "We have long cher- 
 ished a desire to view an American battleship 
 at close quarters, and here we are." A moment 
 later he was initiating us into the intricacies of 
 the great ship, and impressing us by the magni- 
 tude of the vessel, indulging in a lot of marine 
 arithmetic until he had us "awed" completely. 
 On this official tour we passed the stern cabin, 
 at the entrance of which stood a marine guard. 
 Innocently we asked who resided there. 
 
 "In peace time that's where the Admiral of 
 the fleet resides," he told us. "In war the 
 Admiral in charge of operations is quartered 
 there. It is now the temporary home of
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 19 
 
 Josephus Daniels, the man who runs the 
 Navy." 
 
 Our obliging officer here left us for a mo- 
 ment. Meanwhile from a companionway 
 emerged the much-sought-after Mr. Payne. He 
 glanced curiously at us. This was our supreme 
 moment, and you may be sure we grasped it. 
 
 "Mr. Payne," spoke "Mac," "we're report- 
 ers, and we've had a fierce time reaching you. 
 May we have an interview since we're here?" 
 
 The much surprised colleague of the Secre- 
 tary of the Navy hesitated for a moment, and 
 then replied: 
 
 "Why didn't you send your cards in. There 
 have been no orders prohibiting reporters from 
 seeing me." 
 
 We had no time for explanations. We 
 wanted news and wanted it quickly, seeing that 
 no other reporters were about. My companion 
 asked if I could see Mr. Daniels while he 
 quizzed Mr. Payne. An officer was summoned 
 who conducted me below where the marine 
 barred the entrance to the citadel of the Navy 
 secretary. Here I was instructed to wait. A 
 few minutes later Mr. Daniels summoned me 
 into his presence. 
 
 We were in the "stern-sheets" of the great
 
 20 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 battleship as it were, and for all the world it 
 looked as though we might be in a comfortable 
 suite of the Biltmore Hotel. At one end of 
 the room was the Secretary, comfortably seated 
 in a great damask chair. Beside him was a 
 large mahogany table, on which I noticed a 
 decanter, several glasses and some cracked ice. 
 
 The war head of the Navy motioned me to 
 a chair and proffered me a drink. I thanked 
 him and poured out some of the contents of the 
 mysterious-looking decanter, only to find a 
 flowing glass of grape-juice before me. He 
 asked what sort of a "story" I wanted, and I 
 replied that I was keenly anxious to solve the 
 riddle of his trip to Alaska. 
 
 "Many people have asked harder ones than 
 that," Mr. Daniels returned, with an affable 
 smile. Then his brow became corrugated as he 
 continued : "Well, I've been up there to find out 
 whether the vegetables were as big as I had 
 been once told. I wanted to find out whether 
 the grass grew as long as it does in North 
 Carolina, and if there was any hay-making in 
 the spring. What else can I say?" 
 
 I replied that I had every reason to suspect 
 that his voyage to Alaska was to ascertain 
 something having to do with the Navy. I said
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 21 
 
 that whatever that something was, it would 
 some day be public property, and I sought the 
 opportunity then and there to give it to the 
 public. I cited our difficulty in reaching the 
 ship, and added with a smile that I was not 
 returning to shore until I had the information 
 for which I had come. Lastly, I reminded him 
 that he, being a journalist and understanding 
 the difficulties of the profession, might see fit 
 to acquaint a brother-journalist with the real 
 facts concerning his unannounced visit to "Sew- 
 ard's Icebox." 
 
 "Ah," he smiled back, "but that's where 
 you're wrong. Alaska is no more of an icebox 
 than Rhode Island. Its climate is similar in 
 some respects, and many of its harbors are not 
 ice-locked at all in winter. It's a grand country, 
 peopled by a race of sturdy pioneers and their 
 children, and governed intelligently and effi- 
 ciently. 
 
 "But your argument is good. I had not 
 thought of divulging my reasons for making 
 this trip until after submitting my report to the 
 President. However, I believe I'll tell you one 
 or two reasons and you can draw your own 
 conclusions concerning the rest. 
 
 "We have just completed making the first
 
 22 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 voyage of a battleship up the Inland Passage 
 at full speed, convoyed by Admiral Rodman 
 and his flotilla of destroyers." 
 
 This was a news thunderbolt. I was not pre- 
 pared for it. I took my pencil and made notes 
 as fast as I could write; for I knew that if he 
 stopped talking he would lose his trend of 
 thought and perhaps the inclination to continue 
 further. 
 
 "This Is the first trip that any large Ameri- 
 can vessels of war have made up this Passage," 
 and it will go down in Navy annals as a re- 
 markable achievement. The voyage was won- 
 derful both from the scenic and historical point 
 of view, and we have proven that in the event 
 of hostilities American war vessels have in the 
 Inland Passage a protective area within which 
 to navigate the dangerous Alaskan coast. 
 
 "Furthermore, we inspected mines producing 
 anthracite coal of almost as good quality as 
 the Pennsylvania mines. This means that in 
 the future the Navy will save thousands of 
 dollars, for we will be enabled to utilize this 
 cheap Alaskan coal at all our bases on the 
 Pacific Coast instead of freighting fuel from 
 the Atlantic at great expense." 
 
 Secretary Daniels arose as he concluded this
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 23 
 
 statement, asserting that he was not at liberty 
 to say more. The interview had meant much 
 to me and, elated over my success, I thanked 
 him for his kindness. 
 
 A few moments later he accompanied me on 
 deck, where we met Mr. Payne and the per- 
 sistent "Mac." The latter was in excellent 
 spirits, disclosing to me that Payne had fur- 
 nished him a graphic description of the agri- 
 cultural wealth of our territorial "Icebox." 
 The launch was summoned by an officer, on 
 which the two secretaries were to go ashore. 
 At a sharp command hundreds of sailors began 
 lining the sides of the great steel fighting ship. 
 Buglers assembled near the gangway and the 
 dreadnought's officers formed a line through 
 which the secretaries passed to the gangway. 
 
 At this moment I espied on the gangway our 
 old enemy, the officer who earlier in the morn- 
 ing had so threateningly barred our entry to 
 the ship. I wonder what his thoughts were 
 when he saw us victoriously descending the 
 gangway in the company of the ship's two fa- 
 mous guests. This is the type of well-deserved 
 thrill a reporter gets now and then. 
 
 The fast navy launch skimmed over the 
 water toward the dock while Mr. Daniels and
 
 24 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 Mr. Payne bid us goodbye and good luck, both 
 adding with generous smiles that we had "won" 
 our interviews handily over the other reporters. 
 That evening we were among those of the 
 press that attended a dinner at the Arctic Club 
 in honor of Seattle's two distinguished guests. 
 After Mr. Daniels' speech he leaned across the 
 table and whispered to me : 
 
 "You see, I didn't give you away." 
 The next morning my paper in New York 
 City was the only newspaper in the country that 
 published the correct facts concerning that 
 memorable voyage to Alaska.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 the forgetful idealist 
 
 Edward John Moreton Drag Plunkett, 
 eighteenth baron of Dunsany, one of the fore- 
 most dramatists and poets of his age, slipped 
 into New York City late in the fall of 19 19, 
 quite unannounced and unheralded. Had it not 
 been for some enterprising publicity agent, he 
 would have remained there at his leisure, far 
 from the madding crowd, until the time came 
 for his return to the Emerald Isle. 
 
 When it became known in newspaper circles 
 that Dunsany had arrived and was concealed 
 on the eleventh floor of the Belmont Hotel, a 
 covey of reporters sprang from apparently no- 
 where and attached themselves to the hotel 
 lobby. Compared with "covering" the late Mr. 
 Caruso's operations and illnesses, the siege of 
 Dunsany was many times more forceful, and 
 equally non-productive. For hours at a time 
 one walked the lobby, kept watch over the 
 elevators and side entrances, and endeavored 
 
 25
 
 26 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 to get in touch with the shy Irish peer over the 
 wires. The bellboys, the elevator operators, 
 the telephone girls and the clerks soon began 
 to detest the very sight of us, and yet the siege 
 continued. After the fourth day, a plan was 
 formulated and a council of war decreed upon. 
 It was decided that we should all draw lots 
 the following morning and that the two men 
 drawing the shortest pieces of paper would be 
 elected to climb the inside fire-escape, in an 
 attempt to dodge the floor clerk and reach the 
 floor of the bashful poet. It was further 
 stated that the men who did it. If their mission 
 should prove successful, would be permitted to 
 keep the general text of their material and 
 "beat" the others on the story. 
 
 The next morning two newspaper men set 
 forth. None of the others pretended to take 
 any notice and yet each man was secretly wish- 
 ing in his heart that the two elected to fulfill 
 the contract would succeed and the siege be at 
 an end. Besides that we were ever fearful that 
 some titian-haired siren of the press might be 
 able to influence the "bashful peer" to give her 
 a personal interview, and we would not have 
 blamed him had he done it; yet what a mean,
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 27 
 
 cringy, feeling it would be, to have to acknowl- 
 edge defeat to the opposite sex. 
 
 Twenty minutes had scarcely elapsed before 
 we noticed our compatriots firmly clasped by 
 the house-detective emerging from the "ex- 
 press" elevator. What a dire sensation and 
 what a sad one immediately arose from within. 
 We saw, nor heard, no more of those who had 
 attempted the impossible, and yet as the after- 
 noon advanced we brazenly decided to make 
 another try. Therefore the lots were again 
 tossed, and woe betide, for mine happened to 
 be among the others. 
 
 With grim determination to do or die, my 
 compatriot and I set forth. We were even 
 more wary than our predecessors, for instead 
 of entering the fire escape at the main floor, 
 we sauntered leisurely up to the mezzanine, 
 where for several minutes we observed all 
 those who were seated there. At last just as 
 casually we decided that it was about time to 
 make the attempt; so glancing at our watches 
 as though bent upon an important engagement, 
 we set forth. The door opened, the stairs 
 clear, dim red lights at occasional intervals, 
 and up, up, until it seemed we had climbed 
 entirely out of the hotel and were ascending
 
 28 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 the flagpole. At last the single word 
 "ELEVEN," shone forth, but we felt as 
 though "EXCELSIOR" had taken its place. 
 
 We had encountered no one, and we began 
 to feel a great deal more self-assured, yet the 
 most diflficult part of the journey was still 
 ahead. To be exact as we had figured it, the 
 desk-clerk's booth lay one hundred feet to the 
 left of the fire escape floor entrance; Lord 
 Dunsany's sitting room should have been at 
 least fifty feet to the right of this same en- 
 trance. The point was, could we make the 
 sitting room before the floor clerk had seen 
 us, and even were that possible, would we be 
 admitted into the sitting room? 
 
 Looking through the keyhole revealed noth- 
 ing, and we finally decided to take a chance 
 and advance. A few seconds later we were in 
 the hall, no one was in sight, but the floor 
 clerk arose as we appeared. She was coming 
 toward us; I turned and walked in the op- 
 posite direction. My companion followed and 
 a minute later we were before the room we 
 desired to enter. There was but one thing 
 to do, in view of the circumstances and — we 
 did it. Without knocking, or asking permis- 
 sion, we opened the door of the apartment
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 29 
 
 ahead of us, slipped quickly within and closed 
 the door behind us, while a muttered mumbled 
 conversation from where we had come could 
 be heard calling for assistance. 
 
 The room in front of us was empty, and we 
 were for a moment taken aback, fearing lest 
 we had entered the wrong suite and would be 
 held as burglars. But our fears were soon al- 
 layed. The door opened at the other end of 
 the room and a stately, elderly lady entered. 
 On perceiving us, she hesitated and then 
 called back into the room from which she had 
 come. 
 
 "Oh, Edward, here are the two young men 
 you expected." 
 
 I admit I was startled, and I solemnly 
 prayed with a most fervent hope that the "two 
 young men expected" would never turn up, at 
 least not until after we had had time to leave 
 the hotel. My companion nudged me and 
 giggled foolishly. 
 
 The lady told us to take off our things and 
 make ourselves comfortable. She then busied 
 herself at a writing desk, on which we per- 
 ceived a portable typewriter. It was Indeed 
 interesting to know that poetry was being con- 
 ceived upon a machine of rake and thunder.
 
 30 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 What would the honorable Shakespeare say 
 could he but for a moment glance at the up-to- 
 dateness of his contemporary? 
 
 We were seated upon a soft, comfy sofa, 
 and had plenty of time to glance around the 
 room before the poet entered. Although it 
 was not what might be called disorderly, it 
 could not have been termed "in perfect shape." 
 Papers and stray bits of clothing were scat- 
 tered at odd intervals in strange, unknowing 
 corners, and the writing desk and its surround- 
 ings were the most noticeable pieces of furni- 
 ture. As we were wondering at our luck in 
 entry, etc., we saw coming through the door 
 from what we presumed must be the bedroom, 
 a singularly tall masculine figure. Six feet and 
 seven inches may be ternied "singular," es- 
 specially to those who have other beliefs about 
 a man who lives on ideals and suppositions. 
 
 He was dressed in a loose-fitting, gray suit, 
 and wore long brown shoes and green socks, 
 which were hanging in most unconventional 
 angles below the tip end of his trousers. A 
 monocle, which had an annoying way of slip- 
 ping out of his eye when he tried to discern 
 anything so comical as the "two young men he
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 31 
 
 had expected," added to the outfit of this 
 picturesque character of modern literature. 
 
 He came slowly toward us and we knew full 
 well what was traversing his brain, nor were 
 we surprised when he spoke: 
 
 "I fear, or I think, or by the way, I mean 
 I believe, there is some mistake, is there not?" 
 
 The question hung heavily, and my com- 
 panion nudged me as though it were my duty 
 to reply. For a moment there was an awkward 
 pause, and then Lady Dunsany broke the si- 
 lence, telling her husband that she had to be 
 off, as she had a pressing engagement. She 
 warned him not to be late for tea and to meet 
 her in the hall forty minutes later. 
 
 Forty minutes, could we stick it through? 
 The door closed and the poet's monocle took . 
 another flop, luckily suspended by a ribbon, it 
 fell gently to his chest. He wiped it carefully 
 with a silk handkerchief, stretched his eyes 
 and face, and slowly seated himself upon the 
 sofa. We who had arisen at his approach, 
 settled ourselves on two easy chairs and com- 
 menced to talk. 
 
 When our motive for being in the room had 
 been explained, we digressed even further, 
 enough to tell his Lordship how we had
 
 32 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 reached his room, the penalties for failure, 
 now that we were there, and the long weary 
 vigils of the other newspaper men downstairs. 
 
 At this moment the telephone bell rang and 
 the poet jumped up and walked quickly over 
 to the wall. He took up the receiver and 
 awaited the voice. We too heard it, and we 
 pitied the poor usurper of the wire. 
 
 "Could I speak with the Lord?" she was 
 saying, "I'm a little girl from Englewood, and 
 I'd like to have a few words from his mouth 
 to use in our weekly, to-morrow." 
 
 Down came the receiver with a bang, and 
 the peer turned upon us: 
 
 "There is one thing which annoys me more 
 than anything I have experienced in the last 
 ten years of my life, and that is that miserable 
 instrument, invented by one of your country- 
 men, who was imbued with perhaps the same 
 amount of — (ahem) nerve, shall we call it, as 
 you. Some night I shall find myself, furtively 
 stealing, knife in hand, to the wall wherein 
 this machine lies. When I next hear its ting- 
 ling cry I shall slowly but stealthily bisect its 
 ligaments of torture. 
 
 "I have one great question to ask of all 
 Americans, and that is, why so many persons
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 33 
 
 insist upon ringing me up; and yet, when I try 
 to communicate with some poor peaceful 
 friend, it takes me hours to make the connec- 
 tion." 
 
 The ice was broken, and as it segregated and 
 flowed down stream we began to realize how 
 very human this poet proved to be. His en- 
 tire manner was one which attracted the lis- 
 tener, gave him courage and interest. I must 
 admit Lord Dunsany is one of the few men I 
 have ever met who have held my complete at- 
 tention while listening to them. There was a 
 freedom and jollity of speech and a grace of 
 expression seldom found In men of his voca- 
 tion, at first acquaintance. 
 
 We asked him why he did not care to be in- 
 terviewed, and he replied: 
 
 "Shortly after I arrived here from the 
 steamer, the other day, somebody rang me up 
 and asked me what I thought of New York. 
 I was taken aback and very much perturbed, 
 and I was, my wife informed me, very rude. 
 I had been here just twelve hours, most of 
 which I spent far from New York because I 
 was down deep amid snow-white linen. 
 
 "Coming into a country the eyes see the 
 things that exist, but it is the soul only that
 
 34 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 can give the answer. I want to get down to 
 the place where the ideals start, where the 
 raw material begins, and then I can tell you 
 what I think of your city." 
 
 At last he had said something different, 
 something away from the cut-and-dried-phrases, 
 usually the "last word" in all foreigners. Our 
 pencils began to work and our fingers limbered 
 up for the test that might be coming. Dunsany 
 was gazing far off into the distance, and we 
 gazed for a moment with him. 
 
 Born in 1878 at Dunsany Castle, his father's 
 estate in Ireland, his history bore for a mo- 
 ment the vision which he himself was giving 
 it. His name and ancestry are said to be the 
 third oldest in Irish history, for the earliest 
 records show that in 1462 the baronetcy was 
 granted by patent to a Dunsany. The first 
 peer was a son of Sir Christopher Plunkett, 
 deputy governor of Ireland, under Sir Thomas 
 Stanley and the Duke of York. Sir Christo- 
 pher married the heiress of the Lord of Kil- 
 leen, and his eldest son succeeded to what be- 
 came the line of Fingall. The second son was 
 made the first baron, but the twelfth baron was 
 the first to conform to the Established Church. 
 
 It is said that the name Dunsany is of Danish
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 35 
 
 origin, but that the ancestors settled In Ire- 
 land sometime before the Roman conquest. 
 The present Lord Dunsany was educated at 
 Eton and Sandhurst (the British West Point). 
 Besides being a literary man, he has spent many 
 years in the army, and in 1898 served in the 
 Coldstream Guards, in 1901 in South Africa, 
 and in 19 14 received a commission as Captain 
 in the Fifth Royal Inneskilling Fusiliers. At 
 the commencement of hostilities he went to 
 Gallipoli, but was fortunate In that he was 
 never hurt; however, three years later, In the 
 Dublin riots, he was severely wounded and 
 spent weary months in the hospitals in Eng- 
 land. He later returned to the British front 
 in France, and up until June, 19 19, was sta- 
 tioned with the Third American Army on the 
 Rhine. 
 
 Finally he mused a reply, which we realized 
 would be the text of our interview: 
 
 "We all want to get back to civilization 
 again, and it is the solemn duty of every one 
 of us to pull together. I am an imperialist of 
 the less violent type. I freely admit I do not 
 love the English, yet I held three commissions 
 in the British Army at times when the United
 
 36 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 Kingdom needed every one of us, and no one 
 dared question or impeach my loyalty. 
 
 "Some of us will help in the reconstruction 
 by laying a brick, others will help by con^ 
 ceiving a new idea. Everybody cannot build a 
 house, nor can every one write a book. As in 
 war time, we each have some individual thing 
 we can do a little better than our neighbor, 
 and so in peace time it is our duty to put to 
 the test that little individual thing and make 
 it stand the pressure the world is grasping for. 
 
 "Foch saved Paris with his counter-attack 
 in 19 1 8. He would have been helpless had 
 it not been for the fresh, young American 
 troops whom he wove in and out through the 
 lines of the exhausted French and British. 
 And even those troops would have been help- 
 less, had they not had an ideal for which to 
 fight. 
 
 "Fancy, which upheld the weak, saved the 
 world. I am but a dreamer, I am but a worker 
 in fancy, but I am here in America to do my 
 bit in the reconstruction of the literary world. 
 
 "Artists deal with more than fancies. They 
 portray them upon the canvas, and their ideals 
 spring to life when those who lay the bricks
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 37 
 
 perceive them. Yet an artist seldom gets his 
 inspiration from any one, save the poet. 
 
 "We all help one another. When every- 
 thing is over and everything is built in a city; 
 when the business is done, and the social activi- 
 ties are completed, a fancy remains. That is 
 where we dramatists begin, 
 
 "Poets deal with what lies beyond motives. 
 We search for a purpose, an object, in every- 
 thing the layman does. We endeavor to mag- 
 nify and enlarge that object so that it will as- 
 sume shape and form and become of common 
 interest. A poet must have his head in the 
 clouds and his feet upon the earth. Up until 
 the time when I prepared to enter Eton, I was 
 never allowed to read anything save the Bible, 
 and occasionally Grimm's Fairy Tales, I 
 wanted to have my mind free from those 
 things which might corrupt it; and so to-day I 
 keep my thoughts chiefly above what is going 
 on, that is why I cannot answer your questions 
 direct, until I have learned to see from whence 
 they come." 
 
 At this moment the telephone bell jingled 
 again, and in a much less furious tone the poet 
 took up the receiver. It was his wife, and she 
 was advising him to hasten downstairs. He
 
 38 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 hung up the receiver and turned toward us: 
 "And so, young men, you have it. I could 
 continue rambling in my brain to you, until the 
 end of this beautiful day, yet my wife who is, 
 good woman, no respecter of newspapers or 
 newspaper men, must have her way, and I, the 
 dutiful supporter must flee to her side." 
 
 He laughed and held out his hand. My 
 companion took it and went out of the door. I 
 grasped it, but he was gazing out of the win- 
 dow. The room faced the Commodore Hotel 
 and the lights from its windows, for it was 
 now well after dark, made queer little reflec- 
 tions. 
 
 "That's a beautiful sight," I heard him say. 
 "The artist could paint the picture, the builder 
 could lay the bricks, but the masterpiece of the 
 ages would be what the poet would say of the 
 reflections. I wonder if the architect who de- 
 signed that hotel ever thought for a moment 
 of the symmetry of those windows in daytime, 
 and their absolute entanglement by night. A 
 scattered hair-brained crew, they make me 
 think of soldiers in ragged formation in Soviet 
 Russia by night, while in the daytime they are 
 the saviors of salvation, your khaki boys of 
 America."
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 39 
 
 The bell was ringing again, and then for 
 once I had the supreme pleasure of hearing 
 the great poet swear. He asked me to pick up 
 the receiver while he went to get his hat. The 
 operator wished to tell me that his wife or- 
 dered him to descend at once. 
 
 I hastened to his side, and as I entered the 
 bedroom, a sight greeted my eyes. Strewn 
 all over the place were clothes and hats, pieces 
 of paper and shoes. In the center of the 
 whirlwind stood the poet, with anger bursting 
 from his cheeks. He had lost his hat, and he 
 was not leaving a stone unturned in order to 
 find it. The hat in question was resting calmly 
 on the corner of the dressing table mirror, and 
 when I drew his attention to it, he made a wild 
 bound in its direction, placed it firmly upon his 
 head and tore out of the apartment. I fol- 
 lowed, and we rang for the elevator. Just 
 before it arrived, Dunsany realized he had 
 failed to lock the door. We both ran back. 
 Persons standing in the hall must have thought 
 us quite insane. It took some minutes fum- 
 bling to find the key, and finally the door was 
 closed. 
 
 Another elevator came by. We entered and 
 flew downwards. Just before arriving, he said
 
 40 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 good-bye to me and I took the side door of the 
 hotel to the street. 
 
 The shops were shining brightly, and away 
 up in the Metropolitan tower the specks of 
 light gleamed as though from a thousand 
 candle power. 
 
 "A scattered, hair-brained crew, they make 
 me think of soldiers in ragged formation in 
 Soviet Russia, by night, while in the daytime 
 they are saviors of salvation, your khaki 
 boys of America." It was a beautiful thought, 
 and one which I have held in mind every time I 
 gazed upon New York's Incandescence by night.
 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 INTO THE FROZEN NORTH 
 
 We were seated round a camp fire, high up 
 on a bank overlooking the Spray River, south 
 of Banff, in the Canadian Rockies, one Autumn 
 evening. On all sides of us arose tremendous 
 timbers and impenetrable evergreen under- 
 brush. Behind us, in among the trees, were 
 two tents, emanating from which one could 
 hear the rhythmic snoring of their inhabitants. 
 
 Through the smoke a motley gathering 
 could be distinguished, and the fiery red of a 
 Mounted Policeman's jacket added color to the 
 scene. Two trappers, tired from a long day's 
 walk through the Kananaskis Valley, leisurely 
 smoked their brier-root pipes; while an Eskimo 
 tanned by the "suns" of Alberta, leaned on his 
 elbow as if straining to hear every word. An 
 aviator, whose chief occupation was that of 
 driving his flying chariot over the nearby lakes, 
 was also in the gathering, and accompanying 
 him a stalwart cowboy from the plains. 
 
 4'
 
 42 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 The camp was that of Vilhaljmar Stefans- 
 son, Arctic explorer and president of the Ex- 
 plorers' Club of America. He had been camp- 
 ing at this picturesque spot for several weeks, 
 whilst completing a book describing the 
 last trip he had made into the Arctic Regions. 
 The notes and other data collected during that 
 time were in safekeeping with Storker Storken- 
 sen, his faithful admirer, and second mate of 
 the vessel on which he had completed his last 
 trip; but Storkensen preferred the pine boughs 
 beneath the tent to the curling campfire smoke. 
 
 We had been talking for several hours, but 
 seldom had our conversation drifted to the 
 Arctic Regions, for Mr. Stefansson was known 
 to dislike discussing himself or his achieve- 
 ments. As the night progressed, and the 
 friendship first gained was strengthened, we 
 took courage, and asked Mr. Stefansson to 
 tell us a tale, such as had never before been 
 seen in print. 
 
 For a long time he did not reply, but it was 
 easily seen that his calm features were under- 
 going a terrible struggle, for when he finally 
 spoke a shadow of a tear came into his eyes: 
 
 "It was during the winter of 19 16-17, when 
 we were camped on Melville Island, some five-
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 43 
 
 hundred miles northeast of the eastern portion 
 of Alaska," he began, "that one of the most 
 important morale lessons I have ever known 
 was taught me. 
 
 "Our winter quarters were constructed from 
 huge cakes of ice, joined together with snow 
 and hail. The walls of each of our five round- 
 houses, as well as the floors, were covered with 
 the skins of seal, bear and caribou. In two 
 of these houses, Storkensen and I, together 
 with fifteen Eskimos had built our quarters. 
 Our dogs and sleds were in two other houses 
 and our food and equipment in another. 
 
 "The nearest island to ours was Victoria 
 Island, sixty miles across a frozen sea. Next 
 to It was Banks Island, a distance of one hun- 
 dred miles from our winter quarters. The 
 Polar Bear, one of my ships, aboard which 
 was one white man in charge of twelve Eski- 
 mos, was frozen in on Victoria Island. She was 
 well provisioned, but had a scarcity of sugar. 
 The North Star, another one of my ships on 
 which there were several men and a quantity 
 of provisions, was frozen in on the north- 
 western end of Banks Island; and on the south- 
 eastern corner of this same locality I had a 
 third ship, the Mary Sachs, commanded by
 
 44 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 Captain Barnard, with Charlie Thompson, an- 
 other white man, and twenty Eskimos. This 
 vessel was the only one of the three that was 
 floating, and being well provisioned we had 
 no fear for her safety; so when I had left 
 Captain Barnard I had instructed him that 
 should any vessel pass by during our absence, 
 with mail or news for me, he was to keep such 
 things aboard the Mary Sachs, until he 
 should hear from me. I had firmly impressed 
 upon him that he must not undertake to bring 
 mail to me no matter how important it should 
 prove to be. 
 
 "As you may remember, during the years of 
 19 14 and 19 1 5 my Arctic exploration party 
 were believed to have been lost, and it was not 
 until early 19 16 that the news reached home 
 that we were still alive. In the summer of the 
 latter year, a whaling schooner, the Her- 
 man, from San Francisco, with Captain 
 Pedersen in charge, called at the Mary Sachs, 
 and left four hundred pounds of mail for me. 
 
 "Meanwhile during the same summer, I had 
 left my winter quarters on Melville Island to 
 see how my men were faring on the North 
 Star; and knowing that the supply of sugar 
 was very low on the Polar Bear, I had or-
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 45 
 
 dered the Eskimos who were with me to carry 
 loads of three hundred pounds each, and place 
 them in caches along the northern portion of 
 Banks Island, for the purpose of relaying them 
 to the Polar Bear. But after three of these 
 caches had been made and filled we had a very 
 bad storm, and it was all we could do to reach 
 Melville Island ourselves, so that the Polar 
 Bear never received her full complement of 
 sugar. 
 
 "As the autumn came on, Captain Barnard 
 thought that I should have my mail, and ignor- 
 ing my commands decided that he would see 
 that I received it. Furthermore, he thought 
 that, as he had not heard from us, something 
 disastrous had happened, and that it was up 
 to him to see what It was. He grew more 
 and more restless, and on October 26, 19 16, 
 could no longer restrain himself; so he and 
 Charlie Thompson set forth with two sleds 
 and two dog teams to find me. 
 
 "Now, Barnard and Thompson were both 
 Alaskan guides and were accustomed to travel- 
 ing with dog and sled almost all year long 
 over the frozen north. Neither of them, how- 
 ever, realized the full value of food, and 
 neither of them had ever been out more than
 
 46 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 a week at a time without seeing signs of some- 
 thing human. 
 
 "At this time of year, in that region of the 
 Arctic, there is no real daylight, never light 
 enough to read a newspaper out-of-doors, but 
 a constant sort of twilight prevails. 
 
 "Captain Barnard and Charlie Thompson 
 had taken with them enough provisions to last 
 fifteen days, rice and seal-fat for the dogs, but 
 had neglected to bring any sugar. In Alaska, 
 as in the United States, they had regarded 
 sugar as a luxury, something with which to 
 sweeten tea or coffee, so to them it had never 
 been a necessity. They could not regard it 
 as I did, the most essential nourishment a man 
 can have in the north. 
 
 "The distance to Melville Island was four 
 hundred miles, but In Alaska one could travel 
 that distance in ten days over smooth, snowy 
 trails, provided one had a good team of dogs. 
 However, it took Barnard and Thompson just 
 fifteen days to reach the North Star, which 
 was less than a third of the distance, and here 
 they replenished their larder and started out 
 to reach us. Five days later they came upon 
 our first cache, and by signs which we dis- 
 covered later on they took most of the hard
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 47 
 
 bread, raisins and tobacco, but they did not 
 even touch a sack of sugar. It must have been 
 well over a week before they reached our 
 second cache, and we found it in the same con- 
 dition as the first — provisions gone, but not a 
 trace of having handled a single bag of sugar. 
 
 "And two weeks later they reached the third 
 and last cache, and here they must have 
 camped a few days, for we found charred 
 sticks, and burnt matches, but as before, the 
 sugar untouched. Almost two months after 
 they had started they reached the Bay of 
 Mercy, on the northeastern side of Banks Is- 
 land; they were evidently having a hard time 
 to procure food, for we found signs of frozen 
 fish having been chopped in the ice. 
 
 "Here they must have placed their sleds on 
 the frozen sea and set forth across an open 
 stretch to reach my camp, some hundred miles 
 away, but they never got further than twenty 
 miles from shore, whether on account of an 
 opening in the ice or an ice storm, we never 
 knew. They turned back leaving a quantity 
 of second-class mail, one of their sleds and 
 the frozen bodies of under-fed dogs. On the 
 handle bars of the sled we found a note
 
 48 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 scribbled by hands that must have been nearly 
 frozen. It was dated December 22nd — the 
 shortest day of the year. 
 
 *' 'We left our cache on ice twenty miles east from this 
 point; we are out of grub and our dogs are dying; we have 
 your mail which we are taking with U8.' 
 
 "They then went back to Banks Island with 
 one sled and ten dogs, but when they reached 
 the shores of the Bay of Mercy, they were 
 obliged to chop their sled in two, for being 
 famished and very weak neither they nor their 
 dogs could manage to pull their equipment 
 any farther. 
 
 "In January I sent a party across the frozen 
 sea to our sugar cache on Banks Island. Each 
 cache is protected from roving animals by a 
 trap or pitfall of some sort or other, and often 
 we catch polar bears, foxes, seals and occasion- 
 ally musk-ox in them. Storkensen was in 
 charge of this party, and twenty miles from 
 the Bay of Mercy he found the first sled and 
 some of the mail, but he also found the piece 
 of paper, which told the tale. Hurrying 
 swiftly on they reached the last cache a week 
 later, and they carefully examined it too, for a 
 seal just recently caught was found in the trap,
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 49 
 
 but though much of the provisions were gone, 
 the sugar was untouched. 
 
 "Between this and the next cache they found 
 a deep valley formed by snow slides, and all 
 about it, dried fragments of caribou skin. 
 Storkensen's curiosity was aroused, so they 
 commenced digging into a hole that looked as 
 though it might be the winter quarters of a 
 silver fox. After they had dug four feet one 
 of the Eskimos perceived something white and 
 glistening and, mustering all the English that 
 he knew, exclaimed with great eagerness, 'Salt- 
 pork' ; for to his manner of thinking this was 
 one of the greatest luxuries of the frozen 
 north. Storkensen ran up, and they dug 
 around the glistening white morsel, only to re- 
 veal the shoulder of a frozen man. 
 
 "A thorough discovery showed the rest of 
 the body, and they all recognized Charlie 
 Thompson, who had frozen, evidently while 
 sleeping. He was so thin that every bone pro- 
 truded above his skin, and his eyes were so 
 far sunken into his skull that it is doubtful 
 whether he could see when he had died. But 
 his body was so well preserved that at first 
 they thought he was only sleeping. 
 
 "The search party kept on, and late in
 
 50 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 February, 19 17, found at the second cache a 
 quarter of the last sled. It was all chopped 
 up, and we believe the man must have done it 
 with his hands in a vain endeavor to light a 
 fire. Although the bag was filled with sugar, 
 not a sack had been turned over — not a sack 
 examined. The search continued until May, 
 but they never found a trace of Captain Bar- 
 nard's body, the dogs, the rest of the sled, nor 
 the mail. 
 
 "The mail would have been a story in itself 
 had I been spared the tragedy of receiving it, 
 for it was the first mail sent to me, after it be- 
 came known that I was not lost, and that I was 
 still alive in the Arctic Circle. The lives of the 
 two men would surely have been saved if they 
 had only recognized that sugar was a food and 
 not a condiment." 
 
 As Mr. Stefansson finished his story I saw 
 by the dim light of the smouldering fire be- 
 tween us the tears that were in his eyes, and 
 gazing with him into the dying embers I too 
 could see a white, glistening shoulder, eighteen 
 lean, frozen dogs, and the dim form of Captain 
 Barnard, who seemed to be remonstrating that 
 disobedience was not one of the assets of a 
 faithful explorer.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 HYPOCRISY 
 
 Some persons live for notoriety, some die for 
 it, while some have it merely thrust upon them. 
 In my short experience as a journalist, I have 
 found that above all other things in life, the 
 public, no matter who they be, with very few 
 exceptions revel In publicity. And the excep- 
 tions to this rule are not the exceptions one 
 would usually suspect. 
 
 Theodore Roosevelt was possibly the best 
 known man in this generation, throughout the 
 civilized world. Whatever his misgivings, and 
 they were mighty few, people of these times 
 knew Colonel Roosevelt's every move and 
 gesture, and many of them knew or thought 
 they knew his voice. From darkest Africa 
 to the land of barren ice and fields of snow; 
 from the imperial thresholds of European 
 courts, to the rice fields of interior Asia, 
 the name Roosevelt was respected. We knew 
 Colonel Roosevelt not as a man of great 
 
 5'
 
 52 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 wealth or social position, although in our heart 
 of hearts we also knew that he possessed both 
 of these, but we knew him as a man who ac- 
 complished things, a fearless, courageous man, 
 yet withal as endearing and kind as the littlest 
 child. The ideal American was typified in all 
 that Roosevelt said or did, and America never 
 held such a prestige among nations as she did 
 during his administration. 
 
 Sometimes we ask ourselves how Colonel 
 Roosevelt reached the pinnacle of world pres- 
 tige; sometimes we are inclined to wonder 
 what method he used to attain the place he 
 made for himself in this great nation of ours, 
 yet we seldom stop to consider that had it 
 not been for careful, dignified, publicity 
 methods, Roosevelt would probably not have 
 been able to gain the place among the peoples 
 of the world that he did. The quickest in- 
 centive to fame, to any pedestal above that 
 occupied by all us plain mortals, is through 
 publicity, provided the publicity is handled with 
 efficiency. 
 
 There are many people in the United States 
 to-day who resort to this method of command- 
 ing public attention, if but for a few moments;
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 53 
 
 there are thousands of people, who live and 
 even die, in order to secure but a line's notice 
 of their achievements in the public press. 
 America is filled with highly developed 
 publicity agents, each with a new thought of 
 his own, some new suggestion, some spark to 
 attract the weary eyes of the public, and very 
 few businesses to-day are conducted with- 
 out some form of publicity as a background. 
 We may not realize it, and most of us do not, 
 yet we are taken in by a new sight at least once 
 every day. The wary street-hawker, the glis- 
 tening shop windows, the lassie in the latest 
 fashion, all are symbols of something deeper 
 than most imaginations can penetrate. 
 
 Some one once remarked that doing business 
 without publicity was Hke winking at a girl 
 in the dark; you know what you are doing, but 
 nobody else does. He was quite correct in 
 his statement, for publicity when properly 
 carried out is so subtle that very few people 
 catch on, until it is time for them to know — 
 and then it doesn't matter. 
 
 Newspaper offices are the constant prey of 
 all sorts and kinds of publicity stunts. The 
 flagrant, matter-of-fact departmental store 
 pamphlets, down to the mysterious "tip," are
 
 54 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 all part and parcel of the same game. Some- 
 times the editors see through the game, but 
 occasionally they are also caught in the trap 
 so carefully laid by these seekers after the 
 golden fleece of free publicity. 
 
 Probably the most notorious manifesto in 
 recent years was that which occurred in New 
 York less than two years ago. Many of those 
 who take time enough to read these lines will 
 remember the African nobleman who landed 
 with great pomp upon these shores in the win- 
 ter of 1920, announcing that he had come to 
 this country in quest of his long-lost daughter. 
 For days the press teemed with excitement. 
 Flocks of newspapermen and women followed 
 every move which the foreigner made. When 
 he went out at night the exact details of all his 
 movements were recorded. At last the great 
 day arrived. It was announced that the little 
 girl, now over twenty years of age, had been 
 found in a tenement house on the lower east 
 side. The press photographers and a large 
 group of curiosity seekers presented themselves 
 upon the scene. For a time no one noticed, and 
 then all of a sudden the whole monstrous plot 
 became bared, for cameras were filming the 
 crowds, individually and in separate groups,
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 55 
 
 and from the alley entrance there emerged a 
 beautiful satellite of the silver screen. Two 
 months later, when the motion picture was pre- 
 sented, New York City realized how grossly it 
 had been "taken in." 
 
 In February, 1920, six months after the 
 occurrence described above, the Night City 
 desk of the former New York Herald re- 
 ceived a hurry call for a reporter. The 
 nature of the assignment was not known, nor 
 the name of the person who wished to com- 
 municate to the public through the medium of 
 the press, the only specifications being the 
 hotel and room number. 
 
 At ten o'clock that evening I presented my- 
 self at a private dining room on the first floor 
 of the Vanderbilt Hotel, Voices could be 
 heard from within as well as a strong odor 
 issuing from innumerable cigars. I opened 
 the door and saw before me a large number of 
 reporters seated in a semi-circle smoking and 
 drinking some delectable-looking liquor. At 
 the head of the room, clothed in Oriental cos- 
 tume of much imagination, was seated a gentle- 
 man who had violently opposed my entry into 
 journalism ! 
 
 For a moment I believed I saw him wince,
 
 56 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 and then realizing that, as far as I went, "his 
 game" was up, he motioned me quietly to 
 a seat. A valet, arrayed in much the same 
 manner as his employer, brought to me choice 
 morsels to eat and drink, but I partook of 
 neither. 
 
 And in a whimsical voice of the East, he con- 
 tinued the discourse I had interrupted. He 
 was describing a new menace to the Far East, 
 and his solution for a suitable cure. It was a 
 scheme to educate the Far Easterners into the 
 manners and customs of our Occidental world; 
 a bold, carefree plan, but to one who knows 
 the tendencies and sensibilities of the Far East, 
 a plan which could never attain much suc- 
 cess. 
 
 "This is one of the great epoch-making 
 schemes of the world," he went on. "Ancient 
 China civilized is almost too remarkable to be 
 believed. It is not an unreasonable supposi- 
 tion that China may some day be vital. Ger- 
 many is working vigorously to acquire strength 
 in man power and resources from Bolshevist 
 Russia. Germany still looks forward to war 
 and domination through it. Germany is trying 
 to absorb material strength from Russia and 
 again become a world menace.
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 57 
 
 "A plan has already been launched and Is 
 rapidly under way whereby the French Govern- 
 ment, with the co-operation of the Chinese 
 Government, is receiving Chinese students for 
 one year's service. It is my duty to tell Ameri- 
 cans these facts and try to influence them to 
 aid the great miseries of these nations. I want 
 to form a Committee in America to aid in this 
 great undertaking, and we want several hun- 
 dred thousand dollars, etc., etc." 
 
 At this moment I began to see through the 
 clouds which had first obscured my horizon, 
 and the sunshine of my vision soon became 
 very powerful. I arose, seemingly to take my 
 leave. The speaker stopped his sing-song long 
 enough to breathe a sigh — perhaps of relief. 
 The valet motioned me to the door. I did not, 
 however, take the proffered advice. Instead I 
 went to a telephone concealed near the window, 
 and picking up the receiver said in a low voice, 
 but audible enough to be heard around the 
 
 room 
 
 The house detective, please." 
 Before the words were out of my mouth 
 the other men were upon their feet, dazed, be- 
 wildered, confused. I believe, for an instant 
 they thought I was a prohibition agent, and
 
 58 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 that they would all spend the night in the 
 Tombs. 
 
 When questioned, I replied that the "freak" 
 to whom they were listening would explain. 
 With one accord they grouped themselves 
 around my adversary. What could he say, 
 and what dared he say? Then, out of sheer 
 helplessness he called me aside. We spoke in 
 lowered tones for a few seconds, and he re- 
 quested all the newspapermen to leave him. 
 
 When they had gone my irritator held out 
 his hand and begged me to forgive him. I 
 felt I had done him enough harm, and so 
 we decided to drop the entire controversy. 
 I am not at liberty, however, to mention 
 this gentleman's name, but I may say, that 
 the winner of a number of foreign decorations 
 and an important figure in a famous allied war 
 relief fund was he in whose heart of hearts was 
 an insensate desire for notoriety. 
 
 The American system of advertising agen- 
 cies was originated by Orlando Bourne in 1828. 
 He was followed twelve years later by V. B. 
 Palmer, who established agencies In Philadel- 
 phia, New York and Boston, and in i860 the 
 system was vastly extended, so as to permit
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 59 
 
 companies forming all over the United States. 
 
 The general system of advertising com- 
 panies is to direct the movements of paid 
 columnar advertising in newspapers and mag- 
 azines, but there are other would-be "publicity" 
 agencies which make it their duty to promul- 
 gate the interests of some "would-be" well- 
 known persons by using the space allotted to 
 current news for that purpose. The office of 
 the Herald was almost daily besieged with 
 all kinds of agents seeking space for the 
 photographs and news items of their respec- 
 tive clients. It was not an uncommon sight 
 to see these persons offering sums of money 
 a great deal larger than a reporter ever ex- 
 pected to gaze upon, displayed in a tempting 
 manner to under-paid employees on condition 
 that if they could, by hook or crook, insert the 
 desired information, they should partake. 
 
 Much of the material inserted in social 
 columns and many of the photographs in the 
 society sections of American newspapers to- 
 day do not represent those who are really ac- 
 tive in the various lines, but rather those whose 
 publicity agents are active for them. 
 
 It is the same way with most of the social 
 magazines of our times, especially some that
 
 6o PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 resort to terms of fixed amounts for "legalized 
 publicity." One periodical in particular has 
 a perturbing way of approaching one once a 
 year, with contracts whose contracting reason 
 is carefully hidden. It is stated that If the 
 client wishes to release a fixed sum, none but 
 the good will appear in its columns during the 
 year. If, on the other hand, the cash payment 
 is not forthcoming, he is given to understand 
 that everything which is mean and irregular 
 will appear. And sad to relate, many persons 
 are "led astray" by this dire threat. Those 
 periodicals are merely paid advertising col- 
 umns, wherein one may read all the choice 
 bits of scandals concerning one's friends, and 
 all the flatlering bits of gossip about oneself. 
 
 There are other agencies that make It a 
 business to approach people whose names con- 
 stantly appear before the public. After the 
 desired introductions, they continue their ob- 
 noxious plans by assuring their clients that 
 should any scandal appear, or be about to 
 appear in the press, they will positively not 
 permit it to go any further, and will "hush up" 
 all headline stories. To those who are inclined 
 to follow the gay, white way, or to those whose 
 chief pastime in life is to intrigue with other
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 6i 
 
 people's wives, this is a cheerful proposition. 
 The fatted calf is seldom caught. It is as- 
 tonishing how many people believe the story 
 which these concerns disseminate, and it is as- 
 tonishing how many important names appear 
 on their books. Very few persons realize that 
 no agency of this kind can exist in newspaper 
 circles without being abhorred by decent news- 
 papermen. Nobody can check news of value 
 once it is launched except the managing or 
 controlling editor of a newspaper. Therefore, 
 the functioning of these agencies ends, as soon 
 as they have gained their reward. 
 
 There are other people who, when their, 
 nearest and dearest relatives are at the point 
 of death, when they know they will have but 
 a few minutes to be with them, call up the 
 newspaper offices and tell the reporters that 
 their next of kin is dying. I remember the 
 first time I was initiated into this manner 
 of news. It was just before the hour of 
 "press" one evening, and the City Editor 
 asked me to answer the telephone. 
 
 Armed with pad and pencil I entered the 
 booth and picked up the receiver. Somebody 
 was weeping at the other end, and when I 
 asked what I could do, a tearful voice replied:
 
 62 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 "It's about John McKeef. He's dying, and 
 I want you to say he was a good man, and 
 lived a good, clean life." 
 
 And with that the woman hung up the 
 receiver. Rather bewildered I turned in the 
 information to the desk. The City Editor 
 in an apparent rage asked me who John 
 McKeef was, where he lived, what he was dying 
 of, and a hundred and one other questions. I 
 looked blank and said I didn't know. 
 
 The next time I heard a sobbing voice, I 
 renewed my courage and demanded sternly: 
 
 "What do you want?" 
 
 "Is this a reporter," was the reply. 
 
 I ansvv-ered that it was, and requested a 
 quick answer stating that I had other things 
 to do besides taking down notes over the tele- 
 phone. 
 
 "Well," said the voice, evidently stifling a 
 sob, "Isaac died to-night. He was a good man 
 and deserves to be placed in the morning 
 paper." 
 
 I replied that I would see what I could do, 
 but that I wanted detailed information. 
 
 "Isaac Rosenbaum, of 15 Hammerstein 
 Place, a master plumber for twenty years, 
 and an electrician of prominence, died a few
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 63 
 
 moments ago at his home. He died of 
 ptomaine poisoning, and was ill only three 
 hours before his death. He was a very hand- 
 some man, not too tall nor too short. He had 
 an excellent voice and sang at house-parties 
 and other entertainments. He leaves a son, 
 two daughters and a wife. The children are 
 all grown up, and one of them has children of 
 her own. Mr. Rosenbaum liked his grand- 
 children very well. He will be buried day after 
 to-morrow at the Broadway Tabernacle," and 
 so on with a list of the pall bearers, etc. 
 
 The next morning the following announce- 
 ment appeared in the obituary columns: 
 
 "Isaac Rosenbaum, of 15 Hammerstein 
 Place, master plumber, died at his home last 
 night. Funeral services will be held at the 
 Broadway Tabernacle to-morrow afternoon." 
 
 After weeks of obituary notices, which usu- 
 ally come in around nine or ten in the evening, 
 I became accustomed to this kind of publicity. 
 Reporters claim that some poor souls die for 
 the sake of getting their names in the papers. 
 
 One evening, about a year ago, I had 
 one of the weirdest incidents I ever 
 handled. 
 
 The accustomed sobbing voice replied to my
 
 64 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 query, and then I was given a long, detailed 
 description of the gentleman in question. 
 When I asked from what cause he died, I re- 
 ceived the following reply: 
 
 "Oh, he hasn't passed away yet!" 
 
 I then demanded why the lady on the other 
 end of the line had called up. 
 
 "Well, he's going to die any minute," she 
 replied, "and I just wanted to acquaint you of 
 the fact." 
 
 An hour after we went to press with the first 
 edition that evening, the same weeping voice 
 called me up : 
 
 "How much time have I got?" was the ques- 
 tion. 
 
 "Time for what," I replied. 
 
 "Well, time until you go to press?" 
 
 I told her we had already gone to press, and 
 that there were twenty minutes left before the 
 second edition went on the rollers. 
 
 Exactly eighteen minutes later I picked up 
 the receiver, and the voice announced that her 
 husband had passed away a few seconds pre- 
 vious. 
 
 Can any one imagine a right thinking per- 
 son doing such a thing in order to have the 
 publicity to which she believed she was entitled,
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 65 
 
 and yet this woman's husband was an Influen- 
 tial man In the manufacture of automobile 
 
 tires. 
 
 So again I repeat, some live for publicity, 
 some have publicity thrust upon them, and 
 some die for the germ of notoriety.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 JUST A HUSBAND 
 
 "Who is Jaques M , and why has he 
 
 gained such a lot of notoriety?" was the ques- 
 tion which was foremost on the lips of many 
 people in the Spring of 1920. 
 
 For the past few days the dailies of New 
 York had been tossing his name back and forth, 
 as though questioning one another as to its 
 authenticity. A skit had appeared in one 
 of the Pacific Coast weeklies telling of the 
 wedding trip of an important Frenchman, and 
 describing minutely various endearing scenes. 
 It professed to have interviewed the gentle- 
 man who claimed to be none other than M 
 
 himself. Yet, who was M ? 
 
 The City Desk of the Herald was just as 
 anxious as any of the others, and no wonder 
 three staff correspondents and a space reporter 
 were sent to find out. For two days we 
 searched the larger hotels and apartments in 
 
 66
 
 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 67 
 
 town, for another we telephoned all small 
 apartments listed in the directory, and for the 
 rest of the time we divided the city in quarters 
 and proceeded to make systematic search of 
 every building we had not called up. 
 
 It was on the morning of the fifth day, how- 
 ever, while still engaged in the occupation of 
 ringing doorbells that I presented myself be- 
 fore an elderly man at a Madison Avenue 
 address, A little "hard of hearing," and much 
 in need of tonsorial treatment, the squire was 
 endeavoring to tell me that he had heard 
 the name before, but couldn't recollect just 
 where. 
 
 At that moment a tall, young woman, Irish 
 in appearance, stopped to ask the way to the 
 nearest post-office and she was about to pro- 
 ceed when my elderly friend continued talking. 
 
 "M , I knowed I'd herd o' h'lm." 
 
 The young lady retraced her steps and asked 
 who it was that wished to see M . 
 
 I told her I had a business proposition to 
 discuss and was trying to find his whereabouts. 
 
 She asked me to wait a few minutes until 
 she returned, and that she would escort me to 
 his apartment. When she had left the old man 
 told me that he believed she must be a maid, as
 
 68 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 she always brought groceries to the building 
 next door. 
 
 A half hour later I was ascending a cork- 
 screw staircase, with no signs of ever coming 
 to a halt. Ahead, with much agility, scrambled 
 the girl, with not a sign of exertion. 
 
 At the top of the building, nine floors from 
 the street, she stopped and knocked at a door 
 in the rear. I was still panting and utterly 
 exhausted. 
 
 For sometime no one answered, then pre- 
 ceded by muttered French oaths from within, 
 the doorway opened and the woman entered. 
 Nothing happened and I began to think I 
 had better descend, as perhaps I had been led 
 to the entrance of a questionable abode. 
 
 And then I heard a lot of French words 
 growing suddenly louder. I recognized the 
 conversation as being that of a very angry 
 man, questioning the reason for bringing a 
 "tramp" up to his apartment. The oaths and 
 the language grew so loud that I decided it 
 was high time to knock. 
 
 As soon as the rapping at the door had 
 ceased a voice asked me what I wanted, and I 
 replied by asking whether M. Jaques dwelt 
 within. The door opened and a figure attired
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 69 
 
 in shirt sleeves, over which a painter's smock 
 
 had been thrown, said that M and he 
 
 were one and the same. I could scarcely be- 
 lieve it, for the man who stood before me bore 
 every resemblance to a hearty middle-west- 
 erner. 
 
 However, without giving him time to dis- 
 cover my dubiousness, I said that I was a 
 newspaper reporter who wanted to have a 
 short interview with him, and learn something 
 about the reasons for his exclusiveness. 
 
 He did not seem to relish the idea, but as 
 footsteps were approaching on the stairs be- 
 neath he quietly opened the door and bid me 
 enter. He then disappeared into an adjoining 
 room, while I took a seat near the window, 
 and gazed around the room. It was a taste- 
 fully furnished little apartment, with all sorts 
 of water colors adorning the walls. 
 
 Pretty soon M entered, dressed in city 
 
 clothes, and seated himself near me. He asked 
 me what I wanted to know, for he had not 
 much time to give me, owing to a pressing en- 
 gagement downtown. I launched, therefore, 
 into the text of my reason for visiting him. I 
 told him of our efforts to find him, of the story 
 in the western papers, and lastly my own reason
 
 70 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 for desiring to meet him, as I wished to know 
 his real profession. 
 
 "I am a Jack of all arts," he replied, laugh- 
 ing for the first time. "There is nothing I do 
 excessively well, yet I try to do a little bit of 
 everything, a little bit well." 
 
 I told him it was a noble asset, but that I 
 should like to know what he liked best to 
 do, even though he could not do it as well as 
 he should really like to. 
 
 Again he laughed, and replied: 
 
 "That western paper was right. I like best 
 of all to go on my honeymoon to the Yosem- 
 ite. I can think of nothing finer, nothing 
 more majestic, nothing more superb. Yet one 
 can't always go on a honeymoon, nor can one 
 always go to the Yosemite. 
 
 "Next to that, I believe I like painting best 
 of all. I like to paint as I think, not as my 
 eyes see. I like to feel the brush majestically 
 scaling the walls, building the castles, laying 
 the foundations, cutting the roots and swaying 
 the pedestals of the earth's very incarnation. 
 I like to paint as a master, as a creator, not as 
 a student — for my good friend, I have never 
 taken a lesson in painting in my life." 
 
 We were brusquely interrupted by a rapping
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 71 
 
 at the door. M got up and asked what 
 
 the intruder wanted. From outside the door 
 came a plea that this was the day on which the 
 washing had to go out. Anger spread itself 
 over the quiet vision of the painter, as he 
 shouted (in French) next door: 
 
 "Give that d woman the wash and tell 
 
 her to get out." 
 
 Then he turned toward me again and said 
 that people annoyed him so that he did not 
 believe he would be able to stand New York 
 much longer. This gave me the opportunity 
 to ask him how long he had been there and he 
 replied that it was well over six weeks. 
 
 For a few moments he remained silent, and 
 as he was about to continue another knock 
 came at the door. Some one had come to re- 
 pair the piano. In a perfect rage M let 
 
 loose some rather sulphuric oaths again in 
 French. 
 
 "I must not take up your time, my good 
 man," said he, turning toward me again, and 
 smiling almost — pleasantly. "Nor must you 
 take up mine; yet you will want something to 
 say about me, and I shall tell it to you as 
 quickly as possible.
 
 72 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 "I have come to New York as all others do, 
 to see and learn." 
 
 We were again interrupted, this time by the 
 young lady who had shown me up the stairs. 
 
 M was well-nigh beside himself, and in 
 
 undertones (in French) swore with great facil- 
 ity. The lady seated herself beside him on a 
 divan, and turning to me asked me to forgive 
 her husband for being so rude. 
 
 I feigned ignorance, and yet I kept my ears 
 wide open. The idiosyncrasies of all those 
 with whom a reporter comes in contact, are 
 amusing. 
 
 "I shall continue," resumed M . "I was 
 
 telling this reporter, dear, that I had come to 
 New York, as all others do, to see and learn. 
 
 "Yes, Europe has much to learn from the 
 new art which America must some day create. 
 A new psychological moment has come to 
 America. It is up to her to seize the oppor- 
 tunity before one of the countries of the old 
 world endeavors to do so. 
 
 "America is the most technologically impor- 
 tant country on the face of the earth to-day. 
 The rest of the world has to depend greatly on 
 what you manufacture and on your methods of 
 encouraging life. It is therefore up to you to
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 73 
 
 live up to that reputation and try to create 
 something really new in the line of art as well 
 as in the line of technology." 
 
 It was a clever little say-so, and yet from 
 what I had already heard in undertones I did 
 not dare to believe a word of it. 
 
 M then told me that the lady on his left 
 
 was his wife. He spoke of her endearingly, 
 and said that there could be no sounder al- 
 liance than Irish and Basque. He explained 
 that he was a Basque. 
 
 "Basque is the greatest country in civiliza- 
 tion. We are a race all of our own, and are 
 of the highest mental development. For ex- 
 ample, America was discovered by Basques 
 two hundred years before Columbus. The only 
 real discovery belonging to Columbus was the 
 way to make an egg stand on its end. 
 
 "Noah spoke Basque; and Sanscrit and Ja- 
 panese are but patois derived from the Basque 
 language. In fact, in order to make a people 
 as important as the Basques, French, Henry 
 the F'ourth, King of France, was obliged to 
 ennoble all the Basques. I am therefore born 
 in France, since the Basque country belongs to 
 the French, yet all the countries of the world
 
 74 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 are only colonies of the Basque, in the figures 
 of art." 
 
 The last few phrases made the decided im- 
 pression upon my mind that besides being 
 Basque, Jaques was decidedly eccentric. Per- 
 haps he knew it and was putting it all on, and 
 I heartily wished that he would launch forth 
 again in the French undertones, which showed 
 me exactly what he thought. 
 
 Before speaking again he took his horn- 
 rimmed glasses and carefully wiped them. 
 He seemed to be deeply engrossed in thinking 
 what else he could tell me, and I was quite 
 aware that the previous bluff of his important 
 engagement had been forgotten. 
 
 His wife was the next to break the silence. 
 
 She told me that M had come to America 
 
 almost a year before, and had gone west im- 
 mediately. He settled in the artists' colony at 
 Carmel, on Monterey Bay, and sketched a great 
 deal of that coast. Here she had met him, 
 and after a brief flirtation they had been mar- 
 ried and by means of a brand new car had gone 
 to the Yosemite Valley, where he had done a 
 lot of painting. 
 
 Before his arrival in America, she continued, 
 he had been one of the greatest cartoonists
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 75 
 
 in Europe, and many of his sketches had been 
 used as recruiting bulletins. In his younger 
 days he had been a master printer on the Paris 
 Temps, of which his father was one of the 
 editors. After two years of this work he took 
 a course in architecture in the Beaux Arts. He 
 was the youngest architect at the Paris Ex- 
 position in 1900, and the Prince of Wales, 
 afterwards Edward VII, had congratulated 
 him in person. Whilst studying architecture, 
 she continued, he had commenced his collab- 
 oration with various French humorist publi- 
 cations. From 1904 to 19 10 he published 
 Le Temoin, a French daily paper. 
 
 Impressionism in painting and "art-nouveau" 
 in jewelry and decorations were against his 
 principles. His last few years he had devoted 
 especially to fashion and above all, decorative 
 arts. She said that in this connection he ad- 
 mired very much the difference between classic 
 furniture and that meeting the modern require- 
 ments. Her only reproach against his methods 
 was that he confined himself entirely too much 
 to luxury. 
 
 She had scarcely uttered these words before 
 he became immensely angry and (in French) 
 told her to leave the room and not to come
 
 76 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 back until she could behave herself. She in 
 turn became indignant, and fearing lest I 
 should be the center of a family row, I arose 
 
 to go, but M would not have it, and in 
 
 thunderous tones told me to sit down and not 
 to annoy him any more. 
 
 I was indeed frightened, so I remained as 
 quiet as possible, scarcely daring to breathe, 
 
 until the family affairs of the M s had 
 
 been straightened. 
 
 After a short while he returned, but before 
 he entered the room I heard him telling her 
 that if the blankety-blank reporter next door 
 had not come when he did all would have been 
 well, and that he felt like choking any one 
 who had interrupted his morning's work in such 
 a miserable fashion. 
 
 "I have a greater lesson to learn from the 
 skyscrapers, from Broadway illuminated at 
 night, from the tumult of the lower East Side, 
 than from the Place Vendome or Trafalgar 
 Square," said he, reseating himself on the divan 
 and gazing off into the distance. 
 
 "The new form of art for which we are all, 
 breathlessly waiting will come from here, from 
 your marvelous America. Your beautiful de- 
 sire to be the first in everything, from your
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 77 
 
 taste in luxury to the beauty of your women, 
 is a marvel to us of the old world. 
 
 "The skyscrapers are a creation all your 
 own. The landscape of Broadway at night is 
 the most original thing I know of. I am not 
 making fun. I don't mean literally that I like 
 the little dancing mannikins that advertise 
 chewing gum, or the shapeless leg of the lady 
 who shows her hose, yet it's the ensemble to 
 which I refer. I am able to admire America 
 more than most people because I am a for- 
 eigner and can tell you her triumphs and her 
 faults. 
 
 "I think, however, to be perfectly frank with, 
 you, your worst enemies are those who are born 
 in America and never learn good taste. You 
 have created everything but taste. You use 
 your modern ideas with old world taste and 
 they do not fit. Taste is the disease of old 
 people. It comes from the top, not the 
 bottom. Such a new and wonderful nation 
 paralyzes taste. My definition for your new 
 taste is, that when you are old and feeble, 
 and have used up all the ideas you have accu- 
 mulated in younger days, then it will be time 
 to rearrange new ideas to suit yourself. You
 
 78 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 will come to that sometime, and I hope it will 
 be soon. 
 
 M arose and opened the door. 
 
 "I think you know a lot about me that I do 
 not even know myself," he said, "but I must 
 ask you to go now, as I must prepare for 
 supper and for bed. I always retire early, 
 for you see, young man, I am a quiet, peace- 
 loving individual." 
 
 I went out of the door, which he quickly 
 closed, and I heard a very loud conversation 
 (again in French) behind me. 
 
 "We have made ourselves famous," it was 
 saying, "and all that remains for us to do is to 
 wait until the orders commence to pour in. 
 That young reporter will say we are two of the 
 most interesting people in the city, and we shall 
 have to live up to it." 
 
 The next morning when my story appeared 
 on the street, I had carefully camouflaged 
 within its text the real interview, with the silent 
 voice of France as my leading statement. 
 However, I did not mention the street address 
 nor the peace-loving conversation which ensued 
 behind my back. 
 
 Two days later M sent me a signed 
 
 photo, as well as a long letter in French^
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 79 
 
 apologizing for his conversation, and all that 
 I had heard the afternoon that I interviewed 
 him, and asking me to think of him only as a 
 plain husband, such as millions of others in 
 all parts of the world.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE BRIBE 
 
 The Earl of E , one of the most pic- 
 turesque figures of the House of Lords, came 
 to America early in 1920 to seek American 
 physicians and be cured from an affliction from 
 which he had long been a sufferer. He was 
 here but a short time before he discovered 
 that his surmises were correct, and that 
 American doctors were the best in the 
 world. 
 
 When the Earl arrived in New York, the 
 
 King of the Belgians was there, and so the 
 
 notice which foreigners usually gain from our 
 
 press was not forthcoming. It was therefore 
 
 not surprising that the publicity agent of one 
 
 of our largest hotels called the City Editor's 
 
 attention to the fact that one of Ireland's 
 
 foremost noblemen was staying at the hotel, 
 
 and the City Desk, not knowing much about 
 
 E , sent the author to learn what he had 
 
 to say. 
 
 80
 
 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 8i 
 
 A few minutes later I was talking to a physi- 
 cian who told me that the Earl of E 
 
 was not such a sick man as he believ^ed himself 
 to be. Our conversation was interrupted by 
 the entry of an elderly gentleman attired in 
 smoking jacket and bathgown. He paid no 
 attention whatever to us, but motioned to the 
 nurse who was following him, instructing her 
 to place a rocking chair by the window, in 
 which he comfortably arranged himself, and 
 then was covered with a large rug, which he 
 directed the nurse to tuck around him. 
 
 While all this was going on I had a good 
 chance to study him, and to form in my own 
 mind my opinion as to his character. From 
 outward appearances he was quite old, with 
 deep-set wrinkles all over his forehead. Closer 
 inspection revealed that he was very fidgety 
 and probably quite temperamental. Noth- 
 ing seemed to please him unless he could 
 have the satisfaction of knowing that he had 
 said or done it himself. Years of thinking 
 and meditation had left their scars, and the 
 
 Earl of E as I saw him that January 
 
 morning was not the type of man that Belcharz 
 had so cleverly described about three years be- 
 fore.
 
 82 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 "Well, have you brought your assistant?" he 
 remarked all of a sudden, addressing the doc- 
 tor at my side. 
 
 "No, sir, this is a reporter from a New 
 York City newspaper," replied the doctor, 
 evidently much embarrassed. 
 
 "And what the devil does he want with me?" 
 said the Earl, feigning great astonishment. 
 "Am I of enough importance for the American 
 press to realize that I have been here the past 
 ten days?" 
 
 I replied that I believed he was, and that I 
 had come to ask him a few questions concern- 
 ing the reason of his visit to this country and 
 what he intended to do. 
 
 My friend the doctor softly withdrew, while 
 the Earl scornfully looked me "inside out." 
 At last he replied: 
 
 "I don't mind your first two questions, but 
 I do object strongly to the last one. What I 
 am going to do is my own business, and no 
 reporter can dare question my personal doings. 
 If he does, then I don't want to speak to him. 
 Do you? Answer quick or get out." 
 
 I replied that I was sorry I had vexed him 
 by my question, and I hoped he wouldn't take 
 to heart the literal meaning of it. I said,
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 83 
 
 however, that I hoped he would tell me some- 
 thing so that I would not be obliged to go back 
 to my editor empty handed. 
 
 He seemed to realize then that I was with 
 him at his bidding and not so much seeking to 
 meet him for my own good, and finally he told 
 me to draw up a chair. I did so, and came 
 within a few feet of his rocker, in such a posi- 
 tion that I could distinctly see every line in 
 his face. For some minutes he said not a 
 word, nor did he move a muscle. Then he 
 glanced slowly out of the window, toward 
 Central Park and northern Manhattan. Sev- 
 eral children were playing on the grass nearby 
 the lake, and occasionally a burly-looking 
 policeman passed casually by, swinging his 
 night stick. 
 
 "And so you want to know why I came to 
 America?" I realized he was speaking to me. 
 "Well, young man, that's not hard for me to 
 
 answer." 
 
 Again a silence, while I nervously fingered 
 my pencil. Was he never going to tell me? 
 Time was precious, and especially at that hour 
 of the day. When I looked up again he was 
 drawing out a small thin cigarette case. I 
 watched diligently. Carefully opening it he
 
 84 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 withdrew one cigarette and proceeded to thump 
 it up and down in his hand. I found a match, 
 struck it, and gave him a light. He must have 
 noticed that I was not smoking, so he made a 
 move as though to offer me one, too, but 
 thought better of it and continued to speak. 
 
 "I have been ill for the last three years with 
 my heart and my lungs; so ill, young man, that 
 sometimes it is hard to realize that I am still 
 alive. Sometimes I feel as though I were a 
 disembodied spirit, my mind leaves me and my 
 thoughts are far from where my body remains. 
 It isn't human, and yet here I am alive, in 
 America; yes, in America." 
 
 Another dramatic pause. Although I real- 
 ized he must be a very sick man and that the 
 doctor's words had not been just, I was be- 
 ginning to fear I was to interview a second Sir 
 Oliver Lodge, and the recollection of such an 
 event was not wholly pleasant. 
 
 "I consulted almost every physician in Great 
 Britain and Ireland, but none of them could 
 cure me. Some told me I had but a few months 
 to live, while others told me my malady was 
 more in thought than in reality. And every 
 day I felt myself sinking further and further
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 85 
 
 away from all that was real and majestic in 
 life." 
 
 The cigarette had burned low and another 
 had taken its place. I again offered a match 
 and it was again accepted. And then it hap- 
 pened: 
 
 "By the way, young man, do you smoke?" 
 he asked most condescendingly. 
 
 I said that I did occasionally. 
 
 The nurse re-entered with a medicine of 
 some sort or other, and the Earl told her to get 
 some cigarettes. She returned with a package 
 containing a cheap British cigarette. These he 
 offered me, and I took and lighted one of them. 
 Then he continued: 
 
 "I went to the continent, but no one could 
 cure me. It was the same story over and over 
 again. I could not go to Central Europe, for 
 the conditions were too uncertain. Finally my 
 cousin persisted that I should try America. As 
 a last hope, I came to your country." 
 
 Another pause, a glance out of the window, 
 and another smoke from the silver case. What 
 kind of weeds were they in that magic 
 case, I wondered to myself. Perhaps it was 
 some kind of medicine? It might even have 
 been a comforting drug! Yet the stubs were
 
 86 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 the same as any others I had seen and mystery 
 continued to shroud their identity. 
 
 Another cigarette of the inexpensive brand 
 was offered to me, and with a brief gesture of 
 amazement when I refused to accept, the Earl 
 continued in slow, monotonous tones : 
 
 "I arrived in America ten days ago. My 
 son-in-law and his family physician met me. 
 They brought me here, and every day I have 
 been seeing a new specialist. I have only been 
 here ten days, as I told you, and yet I feel that 
 American physicians and their treatment for 
 invalids are one hundred per cent better than 
 the methods of all the foreign physicians put 
 together." 
 
 This was evidently a very great compliment 
 for a foreigner of such importance to make, 
 and I underlined it, in order to know when I 
 re-read my notes its whereabouts in the text of 
 the Interview. He noticed this and became 
 Intensely Interested, asking me with much 
 eagerness why I "made those pencil marks" 
 underneath his last phrase. 
 
 After I had explained the reason he became 
 very serious. It was evident that in order to 
 say exactly what he meant he was obliged to 
 formulate his words first In his mind and then
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 87 
 
 broach them to me afterwards, for finally, with 
 another effort, he asked me If I wished to per- 
 form a service which would do him no end of 
 good. I replied that anything I could do in 
 my meager way to help him I should be only 
 too pleased to do. 
 
 At this little phrase, the silver cigarette case 
 was forced into my hands and I drew from it a 
 neatly rolled aristocrat, which I proceeded to 
 smoke with delight. The Earl smiled sadly 
 and replaced the case in his pocket, and then 
 rontinued: 
 
 "I am giving you this 'fag' in hopes that you 
 will quote me fairly and correctly in every- 
 thing you may say concerning me. Long have 
 I been the subject of foolish tirades from the 
 newspapers. Long has my life been turned 
 'inside out' by the elaborating pen of the press. 
 Many times have I tried to secure just rewards 
 for such mis-quotations, in the courts of my 
 country and the continent. Yet seldom have I 
 been able to gain my ends or the justice which 
 I felt I deserved. The power of the profession 
 which you represent is so enormous that Kings 
 and Emperors, Czars and even Presidents, 
 quake before its everlasting phrases and the 
 manner in which it relates episodes to enliven
 
 88 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 the people. I am not scared of the press by 
 any means, yet I do not approve of the methods 
 used by many of Its advocates in securing their 
 ends. Therefore, young man, if you will 
 further promise to quote me correctly every 
 time I see you, and every time I tell you any- 
 thing of importance, I will be even more 
 gracious to you than I have been now, for I 
 will give you an entire box of expensive ciga- 
 rettes for your own/'' 
 
 He was evidently much elated over this great 
 "bribe," and I was equally elated to see 
 whether he would make true his promise. Who 
 would refuse a box of high-grade cigarettes 
 from the Earl of E ? 
 
 "As to your second question, concerning my 
 whereabouts, let me say that I have been ad- 
 vised by your good American doctors to try 
 the climate of Cuba or Bermuda for the winter. 
 In view of what you term the Eighteenth 
 Amendment, I might say that I shall be glad 
 to get into that very good region." 
 
 For the first time in our entire conversation, 
 the Earl laughed dryly as though he had con- 
 cluded a very amusing remark, and went on: 
 
 "The freedom of this country is as deplor- 
 able as that of Ireland. You cannot drink, you
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 89 
 
 cannot sing, soon you will not be able to smoke. 
 Yet you call yourselves a great democracy. I 
 believe it is a great hypocrisy." 
 
 Here he gurgled another polite laugh. 
 
 "In my younger days I was something of a 
 comedian; that is, I was regarded as a clever 
 amateur actor. I could imitate any one who 
 had appeared prominently on the British stage 
 for the preceding quarter of a century, I was in 
 great demand at private theatricals, and my 
 name was frequently mentioned in the current 
 press. And then the greater affairs of life came 
 on, and I left the carefree existence of the 
 amateur stage and entered the drudgery of the 
 Army, and later of the political world. Yet, 
 I haven't forgotten those early days, nor the 
 times when I shone as the Beau Brummel of 
 all the circles in which I moved." 
 
 To the layman these confessions may seem 
 rather an exaggeration. To the newspaper- 
 man they are but another notch in the stick 
 of experience. Journalists are accustomed to 
 hear all about other people; like lawyers and 
 doctors, they learn probably more scandals 
 and yet more deep truths than any other chosen 
 profession, therefore it was not new to hear
 
 90 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 the Earl tell all that he believed, imagined, or 
 could conjure as having happened to him in 
 his earlier days. 
 
 "Life as a Lieutentant in the Fourth Bat- 
 talion Rifle Brigade, in the early eighties, was 
 not without its divertisements. Sometimes we 
 held 'smokers', at which my art was again mani- 
 fest, and sometimes we gave entertainments to 
 the fairer sex, at which I was always asked to 
 lend my talents. Although my jokes were rusty 
 and my verbs too concocted, I could assuredly 
 add mirth and laughter to the party. 
 
 "And besides that, I am quite a shoemaker. 
 When in Parliament, I was the only peer who 
 could claim the distinction of amateur cob- 
 bler. It is one of the things of which I am 
 justly proud. Upon a glance I can tell you 
 whether your shoe was hand or factory 
 made. I can, upon closer inspection, soon 
 advise you in what country it was made, from 
 where the leather is derived, and the approxi- 
 mate price the shoe should have cost you." 
 
 Abruptly as it had begun, our interview 
 ended, for the hall door opened with a great 
 gusto, and in came two pompous-looking gentle- 
 Ttnen, whom I judged at once to be a new group
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 91 
 
 of physicians. There was much rubbing of 
 hands and stroking of beards, and modu- 
 lated conversation. The nurse and my friend, 
 the former doctor, came in, and brushing me 
 aside, began re-arranging the patient. 
 
 I felt extremely sorry for the old gentleman 
 as I arose to go. It occurred to me that prob- 
 ably his entire life was spent in this way, be- 
 spattered with the thought that at occasional 
 moments he could tell some well-wishing 
 youngster the troubles and joys of his existence, 
 and yet what an existence it was! 
 
 As I was quietly going out of the door, the 
 
 Earl of E called me back. The doctors 
 
 looked quizzically at the old man and then at 
 me, and stood aside as the Earl whispered in 
 my ear: 
 
 "Remember, laddie, I'll give you something 
 which you reporter chaps don't often get the 
 money to buy, that is, if you quote me 
 correctly." 
 
 When I returned to the newspaper office, 
 the editor asked me how much material I could 
 give him, and I replied I had enough to make 
 up a third of a column. He said that he 
 thought from the time I had been away I ought
 
 92 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 to have more material than that. However, I 
 realized that the only story I could use was that 
 which concerned the difference between Ameri- 
 can and European physicians, so I reiterated to 
 the editor that I was sorry, but could only give 
 him a third of a column. Then I went into 
 the morgue (as a newspaper reference room 
 is termed) to hunt up E 's past. 
 
 It was indeed interesting, for his eccentrici- 
 ties were marked by many writers besides my- 
 self, and his hobby of shoemaking, as well as 
 his credulous idea of amateur acting, was 
 voiced by many far more talented authors than 
 the one who is recording these notes, yet in all 
 I never could find another writer who claimed 
 to have accepted a gratuity in the form of 
 cigarettes. 
 
 I learned many interesting facts concerning 
 the Earl's second wife, however, and chief 
 among these was the admiration which Prince 
 Henry of Prussia had for her before the com- 
 mencement of hostilities. One account related 
 an amusing incident which occurred in 19 13. 
 The Countess was aboard the Hohenzollern, 
 the Emperor of Germany's yacht, at the Cowes 
 regatta, in southern England, attending a for-
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 93 
 
 mal luncheon party. Prince Henry, whom I 
 have already said was very attentive to the 
 Earl of E — — 's wife, Is reported to have been 
 rebuked in his criticism of English girls. He 
 wanted to show his superiority over the British 
 race and he did not like the rebuke, so he 
 laughingly made the Countess angry, by telling 
 her: 
 
 "You are, my dear, a very attractive woman, 
 but you live in an ugly and ill-kept country. 
 Your race is idle and delinquent, and of course 
 your maidens cannot be beautiful. It will take 
 our race of the brave, studious Fatherland to 
 teach your race to brush itself up." 
 
 The following morning, armed with a 
 clipping of my story concerning the Earl, I 
 presented myself at his apartment in the hotel. 
 
 Although the hour was yet early, E had 
 
 gone out for his air, and, his valet informed 
 me, had left instructions that he did not wish 
 to be bothered. He added, however, that if I 
 was the "reporter" who had interviewed his 
 master the day previous, he would give me that 
 which his master had left for me. 
 
 A few moments afterwards I seated myself 
 In a quiet corner of the lobby and opened a
 
 94 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 neatly arranged package. A small box of Eng- 
 lish cigarettes tumbled out. Opening the box I 
 found nine "fags" — the tenth was evidently the 
 one I had smoked the day before from the 
 mysterious silver case.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE RECEPTION ON THE SOUND 
 
 "Reporters Keep Out," said the gateman 
 at the entrance of Peacock Point, the summer 
 residence of Mr. and Mrs. H. P. Davison, on 
 the North Shore of Long Island. 
 
 An angry group of newspapermen listened 
 to the harsh but commanding words. Could it 
 be possible that Kenry P. Davison, head of the 
 Red Cross, had ordered this, or had it been 
 decreed by some misguided attendant who did 
 not wish to be bothered by the anxious news- 
 gatherers? These and many other questions 
 were upon the lips of those who had been sent 
 many miles from New York on this glorious 
 Sunday morning, to get the news of the Red 
 Cross Tea Party. 
 
 After some time spent in arguing with the 
 gate-keeper and inspecting all points of the 
 massive wall which surrounded the grounds, 
 we decided to telephone the main house and 
 ask by wliose authority we were to be excluded. 
 
 95
 
 96 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 Q M , one of the most descriptive 
 
 of the young reporters, and to-day probably 
 the most brilliant dramatic critic in metro- 
 politan journalism, was elected to reach Mr. 
 Davidson by telephone and ask him how we 
 could secure our material for the morning edi- 
 tions of the city papers. 
 
 There was a gardener's lodge near the gate 
 
 and into this M hied himself, while the 
 
 rest of us remained outside trying to get a 
 glimpse of what was happening within. 
 
 Besides the reporters there were several hun- 
 dred villagers and persons termed "excite- 
 ment fans," whom one meets at all kinds of 
 amusements from weddings to fires, clustered 
 around the gates. Several village policemen as 
 well as a squad of State Constabulary formed 
 the guard which kept all inquisitive persons 
 at proper distance from the entrance. Many 
 school children carrying Belgian and American 
 flags much larger than themselves mingled 
 among the crowd. 
 
 As the hour of five approached, the tense- 
 ness of those In the crowd grew more and 
 more pronounced; while the reporters anxiously 
 
 awaited the return of young M , half 
 
 fearing to dread his reply. All of a sudden
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 97 
 
 down the lane from tne direction of the main 
 highway came the loud reverberation of a 
 klaxon, and amid a cloud of sand and dust a 
 large army car approached. The police lines 
 were drawn tighter and the Constabulary pre- 
 pared to salute. 
 
 Inside the car, the clean-cut features of a 
 well-known gentleman, dressed in a frock-coat 
 and top hat, were noticeable. Two young men 
 in full military regalia were seated beside him. 
 For a moment we were all guessing who it 
 might be and then some school boys burst 
 forth : 
 
 "Gee, it's Black Jack, wearing a stove- 
 pipe." 
 
 And General Pershing laughed good-na- 
 turedly and waved his hand at them. 
 
 The car stopped at the gateway while the 
 General had his passes examined and then 
 proceeded slowly up the driveway. On the 
 right-hand running board, quite unnoticed ex- 
 cept to a few of the more observant, there 
 crouched a reporter, quick enough to grasp his 
 only chance of entry into the carefully guarded 
 grounds. 
 
 For the next half-hour car after car drew up 
 at the gateway, produced its pass and slowly
 
 98 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 entered the grounds of Peacock Point. Gayly 
 gowned ladles with young and demure daugh- 
 ters, handsomely clothed men and much be- 
 decorated officials, passed down the lane, while 
 tired, weary newspapermen resigned to the 
 fate of copying down the names of those 
 who bore that important pass, remained out- 
 side. 
 
 Q M ' , after many endeavors, re- 
 turned with the information that the nearest 
 person to the owner of the residence with 
 whom he could get in contact, was a very dis- 
 tant secretary, who had been too scared to say 
 anything except that he couldn't talk with the 
 press. 
 
 But we were not to be turned down without 
 
 one last valiant effort. F B , of 
 
 the New York World, the best known "sleuth" 
 of the "jolly roysters," had conceived a plan. 
 He had come to Peacock Point in his speedster, 
 parked within a quarter of a mile of the gate- 
 way so that he was quite certain the police force 
 had not seen it. 
 
 Ten minutes later he entered his machine, 
 covered his head with an army skull cap such as 
 aviators and motorcyclists use in racing, and
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 99 
 
 placed beside him, and in the bottom of his car 
 at full length, a few of his compatriots. 
 
 Just as we were ready to make a dash for 
 it, a lot of horns commenced blowing from 
 the direction of the mainroad, and four cars 
 dashed by our hiding place. In less time than 
 it takes to write this we had joined ourselves 
 to the little group of vehicles. 
 
 The first contained the Queen of the 
 Belgians, the little Prince, Countess Gaislaine 
 de Caraman-Chimay, the lady-in-waiting to 
 the Queen, and Mrs. August Belmont, who was 
 a member of Mayor Hylan's Committee of 
 Welcome, assigned to follow the Queen 
 wherever she went. The other cars were filled 
 with members of the staff accompanying the 
 royal foreigners and secret service men. We 
 formed the rear. 
 
 As the Queen's car entered the gateway, all 
 the school children set up a loud cheer, waved 
 their flags, and threw flowers to the little 
 Prince. The villagers and "excitement fans" 
 cheered, and somewhere within the grounds a 
 band began playing Brabanconne (the Belgian 
 National Anthem). No passes were demanded 
 and by a sheer piece of luck seven newspaper-
 
 100 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 men passed Into the grounds from which they 
 should have been excluded. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Davison and their two sons 
 and daughters greeted the royal party at the 
 doorway of their summer home, while an aisle 
 was formed by debutantes in Red Cross cos- 
 tume and young College boys in khaki lead- 
 ing into the house. After a few words of 
 thanks the Queen entered and seated herself 
 at the tea table with Mrs. Davison. 
 
 We reporters, still excluded from the inside 
 of the house into which we dared not enter for 
 fear of being detected, peered through the win- 
 dows and gathered mental notes. We saw Dr. 
 Livingston Farrand of the American Red Cross 
 present a medal to the Queen eulogizing her 
 for her distinguished services to the wounded in 
 war time. 
 
 We heard Mr. Davison speaking for the 
 Red Cross from a printed document which our 
 office had received four days previous. 
 
 "Belgium's resistance to the enemy main- 
 tained the proud national tradition which has 
 descended from the days of Csesar, who re- 
 corded that of all nations the Belgians are the 
 bravest," said the master of Peacock Point. 
 "It was this spirit that checked an enemy of
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER loi 
 
 / 
 i 
 
 overwhelming numbers and impeded his prog- 
 ress until Belgium's allies could make hurried 
 preparations to avoid immediate disaster and 
 begin the long struggle which ultimately turned 
 threatened defeat into glorious victory." 
 
 The Queen, probably the most charming of 
 the reigning monarch's wives in Europe, arose 
 to reply: 
 
 "I am deeply touched by the greeting pre- 
 pared for me by the American Red Cross. It 
 is impossible to put into words the gratitude 
 that we feel in Belgium toward your society, 
 and I think it a great privilege to have the op- 
 portunity to-day to express to you my thanks." 
 
 There was much dignified clapping and the 
 reporters were obliged to withdraw lest they 
 be seen looking too intensely through the 
 windows. 
 
 Later, the distinguished guests assembled 
 on the piazza overlooking the blue waters of 
 Long Island Sound. It was a beautiful sunset 
 that we witnessed on that memorable after- 
 noon. The gracefully sloping meadows had 
 never appeared more green, the large oaks and 
 maples never more inviting, and the Sound 
 never as quiet and peaceful looking. 
 
 As I watched the distinguished personages,
 
 102 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 I thought of two years before. I painted in my 
 mind in still more glowing colors that which 
 the sight before me now brought back. I 
 wished for the moment that I might be given 
 the power to paint as rapidly and as colorfully 
 the visions which were growing in my mind's 
 eye. 
 
 There sat General John J. Pershing, com- 
 mander in chief of the American Expeditionary 
 Forces in Europe. Two years before, almost 
 to a day, he had completed the most wonderful 
 attack made by any of the allies in France. 
 Two years almost to a day the American army 
 had forged its way through Chateau Thierry 
 and had plowed its path into German occupied 
 regions. 
 
 And close beside him Ambassador Jean 
 Adrien Antoine Jusserand, representing the 
 French republic in America. What France had 
 endured for five weary years, what she was 
 still enduring in the days of reconstruction, 
 what she would endure for years to come 
 seemed stamped upon the features of this re- 
 markable representative of our sister nation. 
 
 General Hugh Keppell Bethel, military at- 
 tache of the British Embassy in Washington, 
 one of the youngest — he was only thirty-eight
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 103 
 
 — officials representing any branch of foreign 
 service, who two years before, when command- 
 ing the 66th division of the 4th British Army In 
 Belgium, had won four decorations for bravery, 
 was gazing into the distance as though he, too, 
 was thinking of the days that had gone before, 
 and the changes they had wrought In his life. 
 
 And then Mrs. Davison with her husband 
 close at hand; the great white banner, from 
 which shone the flaming cross, the emblem that 
 mothers, sisters, wives, and sweethearts wor- 
 shipped and loved; the emblem which saved 
 from peril and danger the lives of millions of 
 those who had enlisted for the cause. 
 
 The Queen of the Belgians, and the little 
 Prince, what thoughts were theirs this beauti- 
 ful Autumn afternoon? It was from them 
 that the world had learned to labor and to be 
 glad when the cause of justice was won. 
 
 At the end of the little group sat a famous 
 civilian soldier. Through life and death the 
 27th division In America had obeyed the com- 
 mands of Major General O'Ryan. For four 
 years the British, the Belgian, the French and 
 the Portuguese had tried to wedge their way 
 through the impregnable Hindenberg line; for 
 four long years they had been repulsed until
 
 104 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 the time when the New York Volunteers ap- 
 proached and found that the Line had become 
 a line indeed, for cement foundations, iron 
 girders, aad the staunchest materials in the 
 world had been embedded in its foundations. 
 Four hours after the famous Twenty-Seventh 
 had taken up post in its area, the Line was 
 but a memory of other days and the Stars and 
 Stripes flew from every post along the former 
 Double-Eagle embankment. 
 
 "The national spirit of Belgium is typified 
 and personified in the persons of your majes- 
 ties, whose example to our own country has 
 stimulated courage, endurance and sacrifice in 
 all who unfeignedly love the cause of free- 
 dom," said General O'Ryan in modulated 
 tones, as he too gazed into the distance. 
 
 "In the qualities manifested by your majes- 
 ties the Red Cross discerns the spirit of ser- 
 vice and sacrifice of the American people, who 
 made their Red Cross an instrument through 
 which they might express in tangible form and 
 by restorative acts their sympathy for their 
 suffering associates and allies, and their unfal- 
 tering determination to spare no effort or sacri- 
 fice until the war should be won," spoke Mr. 
 Davison, slowly and in clear-cut tones.
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 105 
 
 General Bethel, as though brought back to 
 the present with great effort, added: "I am 
 sure that among the proudest privileges of my 
 compatriots was that of taking the American 
 people's message direct to the sacred soil of 
 Belgium and to its distressed but unconquer- 
 able people." 
 
 For a few moments no one said anything, 
 and then General Pershing spoke : 
 
 "May we express to your majesties our na- 
 tional admiration for yourselves, our hopes for 
 long and prosperous lives to you both, and our 
 will that from the crimson fields of war there 
 shall have sprung a mutual understanding and 
 a bond of friendship between the two nations 
 which shall outlast all the mutations of 
 
 time." 
 
 At this moment Brigadier General George 
 R. Dyer asked the Queen if she would honor 
 the American Red Cross by joining. He ex- 
 plained that its third Roll Call for members 
 was about to begin. Her Majesty accepted the 
 honor and gave General Dyer a silver dollar. 
 General Pershing was the next to sign the Roll, 
 and the Queen laughed as she shook hands 
 with him, reminding him that this was the first 
 time she had ever seen him in civilians.
 
 io6 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 "Is it not true," said the Queen In a beauti- 
 ful English voice, "that the only men who are 
 always prepared for all emergencies are those 
 who never allow their efforts to be interrupted? 
 
 "May I be allowed to say that I shall follow 
 the development of your work with keenest 
 interest and sympathy." 
 
 She turned and, holding out her hand, said 
 good-bye to those who had entertained and re- 
 ceived her during the afternoon. Then Coun- 
 tess Gaislaine de Caraman-Chimay accom- 
 panied her to her automobile, and as distant 
 music played the Star-Spangled Banner, the 
 Queen of the Belgians drove away. 
 
 We hastened to our car and sped off for 
 New York, making sure this time, however, 
 that we did not include ourselves in the royal 
 party. 
 
 Upon reaching the city I hastened over to 
 the office of the paper I represented and wrote 
 out my story of the day's events. I was so 
 imbued with the wonderful sight I had wit- 
 nessed on the piazza overlooking the Sound, 
 and the glowing conversations I had recorded 
 there, that I did not pay enough attention to 
 the news value of the story. 
 
 That evening upon reaching home the tele-
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 107 
 
 phone recalled me hastily to the office. The 
 Night City Desk was in a rage concerning the 
 material which the writer had handed in. 
 
 "Wot d'ya think we sent y'on?" I was asked. 
 "We don't want a bed around the roses. We 
 want frank, free facts. Hustle about it now 
 and give us the dope !" 
 
 Quite tired out and with many misgivings I 
 sat down and tried to write the events of the 
 day in the purely cut and dried vernacular. 
 When the story was completed — and I still 
 have it in my scrap book — it was three columns 
 in length and led the front page spread, but 
 what a different story from the one in which 
 the spirit had moved me. 
 
 To this day, the lesson which the writer 
 learned that evening has remained a fixture in 
 his mind. In purely news material the greatest 
 lesson to be pounded into the beginner is: 
 "Stick to facts, describe what, when and where 
 it happened, and let the editorial writer give 
 his impressions of how and why the thing oc- 
 curred."
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 REPORTING RIOTS 
 
 I WAS coming up Park Avenue late one even- 
 ing, when I heard a shot fired, and saw a lot 
 of people running down one of the side streets 
 toward Lexington Avenue. It had been my 
 day off, and having spent it in the country, I 
 had not kept in touch with the news. 
 
 Before I could stop my car to find out what 
 the trouble was about, I saw a lot of mounted 
 policemen charging down Park Avenue, swing- 
 ing their clubs with great dexterity. Still 
 unaware of what was going on I put on speed, 
 ducked down below the cowl, and sped past 
 them just in time to avoid some nasty bruises 
 from their swinging clubs. 
 
 A few streets beyond I stopped the car 
 and inquired of passers-by what the trouble 
 was about. The. Longshoremen's strike was 
 still in progress on the waterfront, and ma- 
 chine guns kept the streets clear down there, 
 so it could not have been the boatmen who 
 
 io8
 
 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 109 
 
 were causing this trouble. I was informed that 
 an alien company was attempting to hold 
 German Opera in the Lexington Avenue Opera 
 House, and that former service men from all 
 sections of the city opposed it. 
 
 On reaching home that evening a hurried 
 telephone call awaited me, ordering me to re- 
 port to the newspapermen who covered that 
 district for the Herald, as soon as I could get 
 there. This time I left the car behind, and 
 with some difficulty finally managed to push my 
 way through the crowds and into the 51st 
 Street Police Station. 
 
 A short time later, armed with instructions 
 and with my press card on the front of my hat, 
 I set forth to reconnoiter the scene and en- 
 deavor to pick up a story here and there. 
 Aside from the fact that there was a large 
 crowd of reserves and regulars, I could find 
 nothing of interest within the police lines. In 
 one of the side streets some fifteen mounted 
 men were kept waiting, and in another a dozen 
 or so motorcycle riders. The main body of 
 reserves called from four other stations were 
 held in the rear of the police station until such 
 time as they might be needed. 
 
 The mob was divided in two of the side
 
 no PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 streets just west of the Opera House, with 
 overflow gatherings on Lexington Avenue 
 above 53rd Street. Most of the men were in 
 uniform, and those that were not wore varied 
 assortments of service buttons, medals and rib- 
 bons. There was very little sign of violence, 
 and not much unrest. The truth, as it seemed 
 to me, was that they had no one to lead them, 
 and were waiting for some one to rise and 
 take command. 
 
 Occasional hoots and muttered oaths were 
 all the excitement of the evening, with a few 
 charges by the mounted men when the crowds 
 pressed too close to the lines. 
 
 The next day all the papers in and near the 
 city ran "spread" headlines condemning Ger- 
 man opera while we were still technically at war 
 with that nation. In their editorial columns 
 they upheld the men who had the courage and 
 determination to prevent German opera at this 
 time. They urged the service men to continue, 
 not by the use of force, but in the courts, so 
 that the Germans should be kept in the place 
 in which they still belonged. One group of citi- 
 zens tried to bring an injunction, in order to 
 quell the possible terror which might rage in
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER iii 
 
 New York if the service men and the opera 
 house employees ever came to blows. 
 
 But that evening It was announced that Ger- 
 man Opera would continue just the same. It 
 continued, but it was a great deal different to 
 what the managers had thought It would be; 
 and had It not been for New York's police 
 force, I sincerely doubt whether there would 
 be any more Germans on the New York stage. 
 But the police, under orders from their chief 
 and Mayor Hylan, proceeded to double their 
 guard around the Opera House. 
 
 As early as seven o'clock the crowds began 
 to assemble, and by eight-thirty, the open- 
 ing time, probably 7,000 people were in 
 the streets. This time instead of a quiet, 
 dignified gathering, there were assembled some 
 of the "leather-lunged" lads of the A.E.F. 
 Almost every one was in uniform, soldiers, 
 sailors and marines, with a goodly scattering of 
 officers from all branches of the service. 
 
 It was along toward ten o'clock when the 
 mob started action, and a concentrated attack 
 took place. Fiftieth Street was the scene 
 of the attack, but owing to the numbers 
 of detectives In the crowd all news of the ad- 
 vance reached the 51st Street station before
 
 112 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 it had begun. This gave the mounted men 
 time to order the crowds back, and when they 
 did not obey to charge them with their clubs. 
 Many ambulances were upon the scene, and 
 numerous were the times when they were used, 
 although there were but few serious casualties. 
 Minor cuts and bruises were treated by First 
 Aid Dressing stations erected in the cellars of 
 nearby residences, and attended by volunteer 
 nurses with wartime records. 
 
 Just before the opera was over that even- 
 ing a mass attack was staged at the same time 
 from six directions. This gave the police a 
 great deal of work, and their efforts were not 
 in vain, for only eleven men penetrated within 
 the lines. They were arrested and locked up 
 for the night. 
 
 The crowd, driven back almost half-way up 
 the streets from which they had emerged, 
 charged again and again, but to no effect. 
 One group, however, in the West 52nd Street 
 direction managed to get through the hnes by 
 hiding in alleyways until the main body of 
 the police advance had passed, and then es- 
 caping, formed a huge cordon and rushed 
 down upon the Opera House. Somebody saw 
 them coming, just in time to avoid a calamity,
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 113 
 
 for the German players and the motorcycle 
 riders, swinging night sticks with much pre- 
 cision, speeded up Lexington Avenue. The 
 cracks which some service-men undoubtedly 
 received could be heard some distance away, 
 and many of their comrades came from 
 all directions to aid them. But as each group 
 advanced so did the police, so that very soon 
 the entire party of ex-service-men was driven 
 back to Park Avenue. 
 
 Inside the opera, all was in a state of up- 
 roar. Hisses from the galleries, stray eggs 
 and cabbages, odoriferous bombs and sneez- 
 ing powder made a most unpleasant evening 
 for those who attended. Toward the close 
 of the performance a soldier in civilians arose 
 and commenced tearing the German flag off 
 the stage. A host of angry Huns grabbed him 
 and tossed him into the music pit, where he 
 landed on the base-drum, not so much injuring 
 himself as the instrument. He was later ar- 
 rested and charged with disorderly conduct, 
 but was out of the police station on the bail of 
 a hundred men in the mob. 
 
 The following morning, hot with rage, 
 2,500 service men presented themselves at City 
 Hall and requested the Mayor to stop the
 
 114 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 opera. The Mayor refused to see them, and 
 claimed that freedom of speech was allowed in 
 America, and that he could do nothing. 
 
 During the afternoon posts of the American 
 Legion met everywhere and plans were formu- 
 lated. If the Mayor and police would not stop 
 the opera, the service men swore they would. 
 And great was the battle waged that night to 
 carry out the threat. 
 
 On the morning of the fourth day, the Star 
 Opera Company, which was presenting the 
 opera, issued a statement denying that German 
 Opera would be suspended and declaring that 
 the directors had resolved to continue with the 
 production of the announced program "as long 
 as it could be produced on a legal basis, and 
 as long as the right of production of opera in 
 German was upheld by the courts and protected 
 by the authorities against maniacs." 
 
 Had it not been for this last word it is doubt- 
 ful whether the mobs would have paid much 
 attention to the declaration. But the word 
 "maniacs" was enough to excite the calmest 
 imaginations. War was declared by those who 
 had fought for America, against a foe thus 
 protected. 
 
 A revival of Weber's "Freischutz" was
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 115 
 
 scheduled to take place that evening, and, it 
 was signified, would be repeated for the next 
 two nights in succession. Even the program 
 was glaring in its make-up. It stated that the 
 "maniacs" who tried to break up the opera 
 would receive their just rewards from the 
 police department, and went on to add that 
 Germans had never been beaten and were still 
 the superior race of the world. 
 
 "The inclination of the good American pub- 
 lic to support German opera was clearly shown 
 by the capacity audience on the opening night," 
 was one of the statements in the program. 
 "Only brute force can stop the music-loving 
 and peaceful public of this city from support- 
 ing the revival of German opera at a time 
 when trade relations are being resumed by 
 most of our allies with Germany, and the sun 
 of peace and freedom shines over the world." 
 
 Many posts of the Legion and Foreign Wars 
 decided then that peace and freedom, which 
 the Germans so loved, would shine over their 
 heads 'ere many hours went by, and further- 
 more they decreed that brute force would "do 
 the trick." 
 
 During the early afternoon H P , 
 
 one of the ablest reporters in New York jour-
 
 ii6 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 nalism to-day, and the writer, went over the 
 entire scene of the recent rioting. We clam- 
 bered up rickety fire-escapes, peeped down 
 cob-webbed chimneys, examined alleyways 
 and backyards, shoved our way into tenements 
 and imposing apartments, nosed around in 
 subway stations and elevated entrances, and 
 
 finally sought Inspector U , who had been 
 
 placed in charge of all the police defenses. 
 The Inspector, a clever, intense man, warned 
 us not to expose ourselves too much, even 
 though in quest of news, for his men would be 
 armed with riot guns and ammunition, and the 
 order would be "shoot to kill." He said the 
 New York Police Department would take no 
 chances with an angry, revengeful mob, and 
 that in order to carry out the wishes of the 
 authorities and preserve order every precau- 
 tion would be taken. Armed reserves would 
 be stationed on all nearby roofs, and as most 
 of the buildings were no higher than six floors 
 this would make guarding from above a 
 great deal more simple. He told us that ap- 
 proximately 1,200 men would be at his com- 
 mand, and that he believed they would be suffi- 
 cient to suppress all trouble instigated by the 
 ex-service men.
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 117 
 
 At four o'clock in the afternoon the police 
 lines were drawn up, making a complete cir- 
 cuit of the entire vicinity, with patrolmen at 
 intervals of twenty feet. A detachment of 
 twenty-five mounted men was held at the Pre- 
 cinct Station, with twenty-five more in the fire- 
 house on the block below. Ten motorcycle 
 riders and four hundred patrolmen were kept 
 at the 51st Street Station. Reserves In small 
 groups of eight or ten were stationed in the 
 apartment houses on Park Avenue for two 
 blocks in each direction, as well as in the 
 tenement houses on the further east side. Ten 
 patrolmen were in the subway station and an 
 equal number at the elevated entrance. 
 
 Newspapermen, and there were fifty-eight of 
 them, had commandeered a cigar store on the 
 corner of Lexington Avenue and 51st Street, 
 less than fifty feet from the Opera House 
 entrance, and right beside the subway and 
 police station. This was the only place in 
 the vicinity where there were two telephone 
 booths. One enterprising paper had installed 
 a direct wire to its office, while another em- 
 ployed the Postal Telegraph Station three 
 doors away and sent direct messages to the 
 office. In our wanderings during the afternoon
 
 ii8 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 we had found a telephone in one of the houses 
 opposite the Opera House entrance, and here 
 we took up the Herald headquarters. 
 
 Besides the district man we had another re- 
 porter from the office, while Mr. P carried 
 
 on the rewrite work and picturesque features 
 of the story. 
 
 At six-thirty I decided to get a bite to eat, 
 and as very few persons had shown up I 
 scurried down Lexington Avenue to 49th 
 Street. Hardly had I entered the little res- 
 taurant than I heard much muffled tramping. 
 Gazing out of the door I saw one of the 
 strangest parades I had even seen. 
 
 A mass of all sorts of outfits, in close column 
 of fours, the military formation so familiar a 
 few years ago, moved through the darkened 
 streets. They were marching west toward 
 Park Avenue, and were but a few hundred 
 strong. Ahead of them they carried the flag, 
 and right down their center a long draped 
 affair, which first looked like a flag-pole torn 
 from its roots and placed between the men. 
 Later I discovered this to be a sort of "batter- 
 ing-ram," the device used by the ancient Ro- 
 mans to tear down the walls of a city which 
 they attacked.
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 119 
 
 The companies passed the little restaurant 
 door, and when I inquired from whence they 
 came, the only reply I received was, "From 
 the Gold Star Mothers of New York." 
 
 Park Avenue resembled war-time days 
 rather than the peaceful section of town that 
 it really is. Several hundreds, so it seemed 
 to the writer, were marching into place on 
 this great thoroughfare, and not one single 
 policeman had appeared in sight. Not only 
 foot soldiers, but motorcycles, a few armored 
 cars, and a great gathering of trucks. 
 
 Madison Avenue, a good block away, was 
 jammed with reserves, but reserves of the 
 A.E.F., and not of the Home Guard! All the 
 side streets began to fill up, and many on- 
 lookers appeared in nearby windows. What 
 was about to take place ? And why this ghastly 
 stillness? It was as though the orders which 
 held sway twelve months before still had the 
 same effect, and silence was being maintained 
 by some supreme order. But more than that it 
 signified that the World War veterans meant 
 business. 
 
 I had a strong sympathy for those men, who 
 had but one thing in mind, that of crushing for 
 evermore German insolence of this kind.
 
 120 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 At eight o'clock the first sign of violence 
 occurred. As if by clockwork the entire dim 
 mass on 'Park Avenue, Madison Avenue and 
 all *of the side streets, commenced to move, 
 slowly at first and then with a vigor and action 
 which indicated that something was about 
 to occur. At the same time a rumbled mutter- 
 ing could be heard beneath the ground, fol- 
 lowed In quick succession by a blast of police 
 whistles, emanating from the subway and ele- 
 vated stations. 
 
 In less time than It takes to tell, dozens of 
 reserves were rushed In both directions, and 
 then the fun began. A long line of figures 
 began climbing down the elevated scaffold- 
 ing on Third Avenue, while the same number 
 attempted to emerge from the underground 
 stations. In consequence the side streets were 
 filled and a charge of a terrific nature took 
 place, followed by another and another. The 
 police lines were swept back, bit by bit. In all 
 directions, and It began to look as though the 
 singers In the Opera House had better be get- 
 ting out, for their lives would not be worth 
 much once the service men got Inside the house. 
 
 Some of the audience evidently fearing this 
 Started to leave, but upon reaching the
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 121 
 
 street found they could get nowhere. One 
 elderly woman shrieked and fainted. This was 
 the sign for a general exodus. The service 
 men, on seeing their prey so close at hand, 
 growled and yelled tauntingly. It was as 
 though they were at the Zoo, but the police 
 bars held staunch and did not give. 
 
 Firemen stationed in alleyways along the 
 side streets, once the crowds had passed them, 
 assumed their post, and at a given signal from 
 the police department opened fire on the ser- 
 vice men with drenching streams of water. 
 The lines of the bold offensive crumpled and 
 withdrew, but not without a threat of re- 
 venge for every man who held the hose, and 
 a few seconds later a wild scene occurred. 
 Bricks and mortar tore through the air, rancid 
 eggs and putrid butter descended upon the 
 heads of the authorities, and shoes and ham- 
 mers made life quite exciting. Newspapermen 
 who had been standing in that region shinnied 
 up lamp posts or dove down holes in the side- 
 walk. 
 
 And not to be outdone by the authorities, as 
 soon as the "barrage" had cleared, the motor 
 trucks filled with armed men, motorcycles and
 
 122 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 armored cars tore up and down Lexington 
 Avenue striking at everything in sight. Not a 
 person was on the streets except a few who had 
 been knocked down by flying missiles; but none 
 of the automotive vehicles dared stop for they 
 knew full well the penalty awaiting them. 
 
 One large truck overturned while attempting 
 to cut around the corner and the driver was 
 badly injured, though miraculously enough the 
 entire twenty men within escaped with but 
 minor bruises. 
 
 Late in the evening when turmoil reigned 
 supreme the writer, accompanied by a man 
 from the Morning Telegraph, went up to the 
 rooftops for a new angle to our stories. We 
 had just finished talking to the patrolman 
 armed with a riot gun, who occasionally fired 
 blank cartridges above the mob, when we heard 
 a nasty oath somewhere out of the darkness. 
 We were standing on the rickety fire-escape 
 over an alleyway, and a whirring sound passed 
 our heads. I dodged just in time, but my un- 
 fortunate companion received the brick full 
 force and was cared for at a nearby hospital. 
 
 Just before the opera closed all the street 
 lights went out, and in our attempt to find 
 our way across the street, we were apparently
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 123 
 
 warned just in time, for a fireman's hose was 
 turned full force on the reporters' rest house. 
 I jumped down a short cellarway and avoided 
 a drenching, but some of my companions were 
 not so fortunate. 
 
 The following morning the Star Opera Com- 
 pany announced that owing to the resignation 
 of its acting manager, it, would be obliged 
 to suspend future performances. We won- 
 dered if there was not more significance in the 
 flag which won the war than in the resignation 
 of an acting manager.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 A SOLDIER OF FREEDOM 
 
 Colonel Arthur Lynch, that famous and 
 pugnacious Australian-Irishman, visited the 
 United States In the fall of 19 19 with a plan 
 for the settlement of the troubles In Ireland. 
 He remained in this country several weeks 
 lecturing extensively, but returned to Ireland 
 without the aid which he believed he would be 
 able to secure. 
 
 His declarations to the press were numer- 
 ous, and I may freely say that they were often 
 misquoted; so much so in fact that the Herald 
 agreed that they would print one, with his 
 sanction, that should be a correct version of 
 all he wanted to tell the people. And it was 
 in this way that the author was given an op- 
 portunity of meeting the famous soldier of 
 fortune and of freedom. 
 
 Gramercy Park, that section of New York 
 still the home of many distinguished old 
 families, lies to-day in the heart of a large 
 
 124
 
 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 125 
 
 wholesale cotton district, bordering the tene- 
 ment houses of the lower East Side, and the 
 street markets of Spanish and Italian mer- 
 chants. Gigantic skyscrapers tower aloft, but 
 the trees and shrubs enclosed by an iron rail- 
 ing seem to thrive much in the same manner as 
 they did in the days of our grand-sires. 
 
 The National Arts Club, the meeting place 
 of a majority of talented foreigners who visit 
 New York, lies encompassed between a former 
 livery stable and a publishing house at the 
 lower end of the park, and it was here, amid 
 surroundings hundreds of years old, that 
 Colonel Lynch asked me to meet him. 
 
 Promptly at nine-thirty that evening I pre- 
 sented myself at the doorway of the Club, and 
 a few moments later was ensconced in a deep, 
 damask chair, listening to the tales of exciting 
 adventure that Colonel Lynch can so admir- 
 ably describe. 
 
 Born in Smythesdale, Australia, the son of a 
 civil engineer of some distinction, he was edu- 
 cated in many countries, with medicine as his 
 future. His schooling took him first to Bal- 
 larat, then for years to the University of Mel- 
 bourne, and later to Berlin. Medicine he
 
 126 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 studied at Beaujon in Paris, and St. Mary's 
 Hospital in London. 
 
 His diplomas would place him in line with 
 the foremost educators of the world, for at 
 one time or another he received a Master of 
 Arts, a Doctor of Medicine, the graduation 
 card from the renowned Ecole Superieure de 
 I'Electricite, in Paris; and the Doctor of Ad- 
 vanced Medicine, from Berlin University. He 
 is a member of the French Society of Physics, 
 the International Society of Engineers, the 
 London Mathematical Society, the Aristotelian 
 Society and many other scientific and literary 
 bodies. 
 
 In the field of journalism I learned that he 
 had written for most of the London and Paris 
 dailies and for many magazines in the United 
 States. His ready pen has added much to the 
 worth-while literature of our time, and in all 
 his books there is a touch of the philosophic. 
 "A Koran of Love," "A New System," and 
 "Purpose and Evolution" are among his best 
 known works; and he has also published in 
 French and German. 
 
 In 1895 Colonel Lynch married the daugh- 
 ter of the Rev. John D. Powell, and a few 
 years later he placed his name among those
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 127 
 
 of international celebrities; for it was in 1900 
 that he formed an Irish brigade in Johannes- 
 burg, South Africa, and with the Boers fought 
 the British. For this he was convicted of high 
 treason and imprisoned eleven months in Eng- 
 land, but was released by special writ from 
 King Edward. 
 
 Two months out of prison he was elected 
 Member of Parliament for Galway, and served 
 in this capacity for four years, much to the 
 anger of many Britishers. He then returned 
 to civil life, but his constituents would not 
 allow him to remain long in idleness, and in 
 1909 he was again elected to Parliament, this 
 time from the county of West Clare. During 
 his term he was an ardent supporter of the 
 Home Rule bills, and in later years favored 
 some of the measures of the Sinn Feiners. 
 
 In 19 14 he received his Colonelcy in the 
 British Army, and was in charge of one of the 
 Irish brigades which fought intact in France. 
 In July, 19 1 8, he requested the late Colonel 
 Roosevelt to send a message of encouragement 
 to the Irish people, believing it might prove a 
 stimulant for recruiting, but although Roose- 
 velt displayed deep interest in the proposal he 
 declared that as the United States was also at
 
 128 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 war he could make no formal comment. Col. 
 Lynch, however, retained the distinction of 
 having served as Colonel in two wars, in both 
 of which he commanded Irish troops. 
 
 "It gives me a peculiar delight to come to 
 America," Colonel Lynch was saying, after we 
 had discussed some of the episodes of his 
 earlier life, "and as I came up New York 
 harbor the other day it thrilled me to see that 
 splendid flag of yours, for I knew that for 
 once in my life I had reached a country where 
 democracy prevailed and where royalty, past 
 or present, did not have much effect upon the 
 great majority of the people. Your Statue of 
 Liberty, with the miraculous city behind It, is 
 an angel of mercy to the seafarer who comes 
 in from that troublesome pond that lies be- 
 tween America and Ireland. As an ocean, I 
 am not fond of the Atlantic. It is not such a 
 genial, honest ocean as the Pacific; it does not 
 waft the sweet perfumes of the Indian; it is 
 not interesting like the Mediterranean; in my 
 estimation it Is a "mugwump" ocean. How- 
 ever, the boat on which I was a passenger is a 
 fine seaworthy vessel, and I believe I enjoyed 
 as fine a passage as I could expect at this time 
 of year."
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 129 
 
 His blue eyes shone brightly as he talked, 
 and emanated a warmth and understanding 
 seldom appreciated in the "interviewed" na- 
 tures of most men with whom a reporter comes 
 in contact. His clear, quiet expressions em- 
 phasized everything that he said, and his 
 varied life lent color to his background. The 
 coming to America of this distinguished 
 gentleman meant more than the casual visit of 
 a lecturer. Many of Ireland's sons had 
 awaited his arrival with breathless anxiety; not 
 a few Americans wished to know how the cen- 
 tury-old dispute could be settled, and for a 
 man who was on record as a champion of 
 liberty to present a solution was evidence 
 enough of his sincere interest In the freedom 
 of Ireland. 
 
 "You have asked me," he continued, "for 
 the reason for which I really came to your 
 country; and you have requested me to tell 
 you unhesitantly my ideas of the cure for the 
 cause which I represent. I shall endeavor 
 to state briefly to the American public that 
 which I preach In my lectures all over the 
 civilized world. 
 
 "I didn't come to talk against the British,
 
 130 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 for although pro-Irish, I am not anti-British. 
 I admire the British people and their ideas, 
 but I am not in favor with the British adn inis- 
 tration. At present I am out of Parliament, 
 and no longer connected with the army, so I 
 have no party to serve, except to verify or dis- 
 credit the things that I hear. 
 
 "I come therefore to your shores as a mer- 
 chant of Ideas. I come with a solvent of the 
 Irish question. As a member of the British 
 labor party, I have faith in the future labor 
 policies of the British Empire. I am there- 
 fore not only carrying out my own policy, but 
 also as a part of a great democratic policy, 
 am seeing justice done to Ireland. And that is 
 in fact one of the reasons why I could not ac- 
 cept the entire policy of the Sinn Feiners. 
 
 "The tactical mistake of the Sinn Feiners 
 Is that they threw away a powerful weapon 
 when they refused to come to Westminster; 
 but also from a point of view of propaganda 
 they neglected what was the sounding board 
 for the greatest magnification of expression of 
 opinion in the entire world. They made a 
 mistake in not recognizing the full power of 
 the labor movement, and they forsook any 
 chance of using it.
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 131 
 
 "The Sinn Feiners so far have done marvelsr 
 and they have consolidated their move to an 
 extent beyond the hopes of many of their 
 friends, certainly far beyond the anticipations 
 of their enemies; yet, I do not see how they 
 can win out. However, I believe that their 
 program might be carried out, and if brought 
 to a reality made practicable through certain 
 modifications of ways and means; for I fear 
 greatly that Sinn Feiners will not get through, 
 at present, with the tactics they employ. 
 
 "The people of the United States cannot 
 form an idea of how suppressive the Irish form 
 of government is, for the British Government 
 is not only very tyrannical, but absurdly so. 
 Organization has been suppressed by the Gov- 
 ernment, and all athletic or labor assemblies 
 have been suspended. The public playing of 
 football or handball, unless under the aus- 
 pices of the police, is prohibited. The British 
 fear that people will congregate and exchange 
 ideas. It is a crime which constitutes conspir- 
 acy for more than four persons to assemble 
 more than five minutes at a street comer or 
 public crossing. 
 
 "Ireland is the last buttress in Europe
 
 132 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 against the spread of ideas, but there are Sinn 
 Feiners in Ireland angry enough to do any- 
 thing by force. However, trouble is arising 
 when we find by official figures that eighty per 
 cent of all those who constitute or instigate 
 the workings of a strike in a foreign country 
 are Irish by birth; this demonstrates that since 
 they cannot succeed at home they are trying 
 elsewhere. 
 
 "World republicanism must come, and I shall 
 continue to fight for it wherever I happen to 
 be, and I intend to devote the rest of my life 
 toward the cause of the freedom of the world. 
 When it comes It is sure to be universal. I 
 have talked with soldiers of all the allied 
 armies and their sentiments are overwhelm- 
 ingly against a continuation of the ridiculous 
 system of rule by kings. 
 
 "My plan for the eventual solution of the 
 Irish question is that the British world should 
 be made familiar with democratic ideals and 
 should proceed as rapidly as possible to estab- 
 lish a republic in Ireland, and even in England, 
 herself. If not, the laboring classes will take 
 drastic means. 
 
 "Whatever be the right or wrong of my
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 133 
 
 policy, the English Government would never 
 dream of granting that demand, except 
 through sheer physical force; and no physical 
 force large enough exists in Ireland. Never- 
 theless, if Sinn Feiners were able to carry out 
 to the full extent their policy they could claim 
 they had forced the British Government to a 
 condition in which it was prepared to offer a 
 far greater scheme of home rule than it had 
 hitherto contemplated, namely, dominion home 
 rule. 
 
 "This is but a stepping stone to the final 
 settlement, and the latter will come when the 
 dominions themselves work out their natural 
 evolution and become republics. Let me add 
 that the time is coming, possibly within five 
 years, when the English empire shall be dis- 
 rupted from within unless she ceases giving 
 her lavish nobility such rights as her common 
 citizens are not allowed to look upon." 
 
 On October 26th we published Colonel 
 Lynch's remarkable interview; a few days later 
 I met him on the street. He thanked me for 
 the story, and told me that he was off for 
 Canada that evening, and would preach his 
 doctrine there; but the following day it was re- 
 ported that he had been detained upon arriv-
 
 134 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 ing In Montreal. For a long time I heard 
 nothing of the great soldier, then one day 
 several weeks later I read that he had been 
 arrested in West Clare county, a Sinn Fein 
 stronghold, for seditious utterances. He was 
 freed again, and a short time ago sprang into 
 the columns of the British press as opposed 
 to the recent policy of Lloyd George. What 
 will be his final fate no one knows, but his 
 courage and his sagacity are such that they in- 
 spire rather than deteriorate the purpose of 
 any one possessed of a fiery temperament and 
 bent upon doing his best for humanity.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 SMALL FRY 
 
 In all large newspaper organizations there 
 are certain men trained in particular branches 
 of work, just as there were men trained for 
 each branch of the army during the war, so 
 that whenever a story of especial merit occurs 
 there is a man versed in its sphere who can be 
 sent out to get the details. These men, the 
 most efficient in their various capacities, are 
 assigned to different departments, and in many 
 offices to different rooms. In most cases the 
 trained advocates usually belong to Crime, 
 Politics, Finance, Dramatics, Art, Sports, 
 Society, Education, and Shipping. 
 
 The main offices of a metropolitan news- 
 paper are occupied by the general duty men, 
 whose business it is to "cover" all the general 
 news not specialized by the departmental men, 
 and this includes dinners, banquets, church 
 meetings, raids, accidents, minor fires and bur- 
 glaries, romances, scandals, boards of trade, 
 
 135
 
 136 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 lost children and relatives, financial drives and 
 parades. The term usually used for the lat- 
 ter, by the general duty reporters, is "small 
 fry," for seldom are any of these things given 
 over a paragraph display, and often they are 
 not recorded at all. 
 
 Occasionally, however, one picks up interest- 
 ing squibs of news in this manner, and when 
 this is so "small fry" occupies a large space on 
 one of the leading pages, or may even shove 
 itself into a "box," the term applied to the 
 paragraphs enclosed in a black-lined square at 
 the top of the front page. It is then that the 
 heart of a promising young newspaperman 
 takes a great jump, for as this occurrence sel- 
 dom happens it is a red-letter day in his life. 
 
 Most of the precinct fire houses and police 
 stations in the larger cities are occupied by 
 newspapermen from almost every paper in the 
 city. The duties of these district men are few 
 and far between, and many of them are en- 
 gaged in other occupations, but should an 
 alarm, requiring a policeman or a fire-engine 
 to leave the station, be sounded^ the district 
 man must follow it to its end. If, however, 
 the occurrence is worthy of three alarms, usu-
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 137 
 
 ally a "small fry" man is sent from the main 
 office as well. 
 
 Many are the times that the author has has- 
 tened from a warm, comfortable office out in- 
 to the damp, chilly midnight air, to run down 
 a thief, or watch gleaming flames lick up the 
 sides of a rusticated mansion. One evening a 
 triple alarm had sounded from the theatrical 
 district, and the author had been dispatched to 
 discover its cause. 'On Forty-Second Street, 
 east of Broadway and west of Sixth Avenue, 
 the Bush Terminal Office Buildings presented 
 a wonderful sight, with angry flames curling 
 up their walls. A tremendous crowd had as- 
 sembled at the Broadway intersection, and it 
 took several minutes to fight one's way 
 through them and into the guarded arena be- 
 yond which no one, unless he possessed a police 
 or press pass, could enter. 
 
 For a long time I contented myself with 
 standing in a group of almost a half-hundred 
 newspapermen who had sprung from nowhere, 
 and then the idea occurred of finding out how 
 much damage had been done and how it started, 
 for the fire did not seem lower than the sixth 
 floor. Four other reporters joined me, and we
 
 138 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 made our way through a mass of broken glass 
 to the elevator shaft beneath the great building. 
 The elevators were still running, although much 
 water was trickling down the shafts from 
 above, and we placed ourselves in one of them 
 with several firemen. At the fifth floor we were 
 told to get out, for something had happened 
 to the mechanism of the lift; none of us needed 
 a second bidding. All the lights were out, but 
 flashlights aided our progress and revealed that 
 the ceilings of these ofiices were still intact, 
 although water was seeping through cracks 
 at different intervals; we judged by this that 
 the fire had made its way upward and that only 
 water was coming down. 
 
 A fireman, who was putting on one of his 
 rubber boots, volunteered the information that 
 there was a stairway to the street, two doors 
 to the rear; and, upon further questioning, 
 told us that the fire had damaged a great col- 
 lection of goods belonging to the ruler of 
 Persia. From scattered bits of information 
 which I gained from various employees during 
 that evening it developed that these goods, 
 chiefly rugs and precious stones, had been sent 
 from Persia to the exhibition in San Francisco. 
 Upon examining records of this exhibit I found
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 139 
 
 that they were valued at close to $2,000,000. 
 I then learned that over half the collection 
 had been destroyed by the fire. 
 
 Further questioning revealed that the fire 
 had started by means of the candles and kero- 
 sene lamps which were being used in order to 
 economize on fuel. This was the second por- 
 tion of the story which made interesting read- 
 ing, and when I reached the street I overheard 
 the third paragraph of my tale. An elderly 
 woman who was being helped into an ambu- 
 lance was telling a police ofiicial that she had 
 counted 200 people who left the building less 
 than four minutes after the first alarm had 
 been sounded. 
 
 Raids often prove as exciting as spectacu- 
 lar fires, and many times I have waited with 
 beating heart while the detectives slowly 
 pounced upon their prey. I remember espe- 
 cially one night in the dead of winter when a 
 famous gambling den was raided. Several 
 patrolmen and plain-clothes men were sta- 
 tioned at every exit of the building, while four 
 reporters were hidden in an alleyway opposite. 
 At a given signal the doorbell was rung and a 
 detective, dressed in the fashion of those who
 
 I40 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 played there, asked to be admitted. The door 
 opened silently, and the officer entered. For 
 a long time everything was silent, and then we 
 heard a shot and saw the lights go out. Con- 
 fusion reigned supreme for a few minutes, and 
 the entire thoroughfare bristled with blue- 
 coats; then the lights came on again and a 
 police wagon drew up in front of the door. 
 Eight or nine men were led into it, and the re- 
 porters climbed on the rear. At the police 
 station the fictitious names of those seized were 
 recorded upon the blotters. Of the nine men 
 whose names were being registered I recog- 
 nized four, and they were all prominent in the 
 amateur sporting world. The following morn- 
 ing we were the only paper in town to record 
 the correct names of those who had been ar- 
 rested the night before. 
 
 I never knew until I had been on the staff 
 of the Herald several months how many 
 different organizations existed in the city 
 of New York, and I would doubtless have 
 never known this if it had not been that for 
 weeks I had been assigned to dinners, lunches 
 and banquets. The night life of the "maitre 
 d'hotel" in any of our large hostelries must
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 141 
 
 be a phantasmagoria of sensations, so much so 
 that I should not wonder if he were driven 
 insane long before his contract had elapsed. 
 For seldom do hotels of the size of the Waldorf 
 Astoria, the Commodore, the Astor, the Penn- 
 sylvania or the Biltmore pass by a single day 
 without at least four or five large organizations 
 meeting there for a luncheon or dinner. The 
 reporter who handles such material soon be- 
 comes as disgusted as the waiter who serves 
 each new, expectant diner. 
 
 Oscar, for many years head waiter of the 
 Waldorf Astoria, was retired recently with a 
 goodly pension, for during the twenty or more 
 years in which he occupied a leading position In 
 that famous hotel, he seldom missed a day or 
 night's service. Oscar was the friend of all 
 reporters, and seldom did a few hours pass that 
 he was not imparting news of especial Impor- 
 tance to the outposts of the press. 
 
 Night after night, with four or more "small 
 fry" assignments on my pad, I used to call up 
 the "maitres d'hotel" of the numerous places 
 to which I had been assigned to find out which 
 assignment was the most important. And 
 night after night I have "covered" perfume
 
 142 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 manufacturers, cotton merchants, secret so- 
 cieties, or a college class, silk association, Amer- 
 icanization association, humanitarian or alumni 
 association, merchant association, grave dig- 
 gers' union, masonic. Salvation Army, clothing 
 workers, farm magazine association, political 
 birthday, army and relief fund dinners. 
 
 Sometimes the press had tables reserved for 
 them, often beneath the speaker's table; at 
 others there would be no accommodations 
 whatever, but men were stationed at the door 
 with printed copies of the speeches to be 
 made, and the reporter would need but a few 
 moments to collect this data. Occasionally 
 there would be no reservations and no printed 
 matter, and yet some important dignitary 
 scheduled to speak; and this was the kind of as- 
 signment we detested, for it meant hours of 
 waiting in the galleries above the dining halls, 
 with poor acoustics, trying to get the master 
 words that the speaker of the evening was 
 about to deliver. Once during a function of 
 some sort or other the speech of the evening 
 was read from a pamphlet which proved to be 
 forty printed pages in length. It was an im- 
 portant declaration from the Wheat Growers'
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 143 
 
 Association and we needed at least five hun- 
 dred words from it, but it was close on to the 
 time when our first edition went to press be- 
 fore I could make head or tail out of the long, 
 weighty discussion which was being made. 
 
 Accidents, unless of great importance, are 
 seldom recorded by the New York press, yet 
 should a prominent person be hurt or any one 
 killed their names are always mentioned. Out- 
 siders think that every time a taxicab rams 
 another one, or a street car jumps the track, 
 or the glass is smashed in a subway window, 
 that a reporter will appear upon the scene, 
 secure all names, and next morning the entire 
 story flash before the public. This is not true. 
 Minor accidents happen every minute all over 
 the great city and are never recorded in any 
 of the morning's papers; usually the policeman 
 of the district brings his tale before the lieu- 
 tenant commanding his post and the notation 
 is entered upon the "blotter," the term applied 
 by the press to the police-recording ledger. 
 Sometimes a city news reporter is sent out to 
 view the scene of trouble, and if he thinks it 
 worthy of mention it is given a few lines on 
 the ticker, which repeats mechanically in every 
 newspaper ofl'ice at once.
 
 144 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 There Is a young man now on the staff of 
 a New York paper who was exceedingly anx- 
 ious to be affiliated with that organization, 
 but who, through inexperience, was not able to 
 secure a position. He was told, however, that 
 should he succeed in distinguishing himself in 
 any striking manner he would be placed on the 
 staff. At this time he was a student at a school 
 of journalism in the city, and one evening while 
 traveling down-town in the elevated shortly 
 before midnight, was pinned under the wheels 
 of the car in which he was traveling during a 
 terrific collision. When he extricated himself 
 he made for the nearest telephone and gave the 
 deserving paper the entire story of the wreck, 
 continuing to do so until daylight. The fol- 
 lowing morning this paper "scooped" all others 
 on its first edition and presented a more com- 
 plete story in its later editions than any of its 
 competitors. 
 
 Lost relatives are another source of ennui to 
 the daily press, and they were especially so to 
 the Herald, for its circulation and prestige were 
 often thought to be a medium for finding those 
 who had strayed from home. Periodically, 
 once or twice a week, sad citizens would ask 
 that a reporter be sent to them, and when the
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 145 
 
 Ill-fated young man appeared would burst into 
 tears, revealing to him the absence of a dear 
 one. The tale of woe would be long and heart- 
 rending, accompanied by photographs and 
 directions by which the tardy one might be 
 found. The author very often was inclined to 
 believe that although presumably lost, the hus- 
 band or wife was in reality seeking a quiet 
 change of surroundings. 
 
 The publishing of a newspaper is considered 
 by authorities merely another form of private 
 business, so that libel is consequently a tre- 
 mendous offense, and reporters sent to investi- 
 gate a scandal are usually cautioned not to 
 sacrifice accuracy for the sake of speed. It is 
 far better to secure a correct story than one 
 which may be in advance of the others, but in- 
 correct in detail. 
 
 Thus, rumored romances or quietly re- 
 counted divorces may cost a paper thousands of 
 dollars if some basis of truth is not established. 
 Sometimes some papers "take a chance," know- 
 ing that those involved would not sue for the 
 simple reason that they would not like to air 
 their domestic affairs in public. Occasionally 
 papers employ sleuths to watch every move- 
 ment of those whom they suspect, and these
 
 146 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 investigators turn over their findings to trained 
 newspapermen. 
 
 I remember a difficult case on which I was 
 assigned late one evening, for such cases usu- 
 ally occur after dark. A sensational mar- 
 riage had taken place a few months previous 
 between a wealthy bachelor and a noted Euro- 
 pean singer, but a "tip" had been received at 
 the office to the effect that the romancers were 
 no longer on speaking terms. The City Desk 
 wished to confirm this rumor, and several re- 
 porters were dispatched on separate errands. 
 As it was my duty to shadow the "man In the 
 fase," I spent a most varied night careening 
 about the city in a taxicab chartered for the 
 purpose, diving into all sorts of strange, out- 
 of-the-way localities and finally ending up at 
 the apartment In which the former bachelor 
 resided before his marriage. The follow- 
 ing day the same thing happened, and for a 
 week I made myself familiar with the habitat 
 of the wealthy clubman; and then one day, as 
 luck would have It, another "tip" was re- 
 ceived that the couple we were so earnestly 
 patronizing were about to sail for Europe, 
 where a secret decree of divorce would be
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 147 
 
 sousht. But the divorce never materialized, 
 and as there was nothing strange in the doings 
 of either the man or the woman we thereby- 
 saved the paper what might otherwise have 
 been an extremely distasteful lawsuit. 
 
 One would be surprised at the number of 
 residents of any large city who nightly attend 
 revolutionary meetings in public buildings all 
 over the city. In New York this is especially 
 true, and hundreds of good, clear-thinking 
 Americans are being influenced daily by the 
 radical utterances of irresponsible persons. 
 
 The author has often attended meetings in 
 churches where the Gospel of the Lord is sup- 
 planted by the anti-government verbal explo- 
 sions of a misled citizen. He has delved into 
 auditoriums where the air was filled with blas- 
 phemy and the clapping of hands. He has 
 taken down the records of meetings where 
 anarchy and sordid utterances reigned supreme, 
 and he has gazed upon citizens whose integrity 
 would never have been questioned had they not 
 been watched as eager participants in some un- 
 American demonstration.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 A VICTIM OF ARTIFICIALITY 
 
 Christmas morning, 1920, dawned bright 
 and cold, snow had fallen during the night, 
 completely covering the ground, and as yet but 
 few street cleaners were about. In the years, 
 heretofore, except those Christmases which had 
 been spent in the army, the author had been able 
 to take a few extra winks of much needed rest, 
 but this Christmas was different. The night be- 
 fore the mighty City Editor had told all re- 
 porters that they would be expected at their 
 desks not later than nine-thirty. 
 
 Shortly after ten o'clock I was on my way 
 with orders to secure an interview from Mau- 
 rice Maeterlinck, the Belgian poet. Further- 
 more, I was told not to return until my mission 
 was complete. It was a hopeless outlook, for 
 weeks before the news had been spread that 
 although Maeterlinck was over here on a lec- 
 turing tour, he did not wish to be interviewed, 
 
 148
 
 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 149 
 
 and it was certain that he was not going to 
 be interviewed, if he and his party could pre- 
 vent it. 
 
 Arriving at the apartment house where it 
 was reported he was staying, I was greeted by 
 the cheers and jeers of some dozen or more 
 correspondents evidently in the same position as 
 the author. Sev^eral camera men and one or 
 two motion-picture operators were in the group. 
 
 Upon entering the building I told the tele- 
 phone operator that a representative of the 
 New York Herald wished to see Mr. Maeter- 
 linck. At first the operator only giggled and 
 said that each time she announced a new news- 
 paperman the receiver was slammed down 
 peremptorily. However, she took a chance, 
 and to our surprise the answer was to "send 
 him up." 
 
 The elevator man, another of us poor indi- 
 viduals who were obliged to work on this day 
 of all days, looked me carefully up and down 
 as though questioning whether I concealed a 
 hidden weapon or was just a poor simpleton 
 led astray by the fame of the Belgian muse. 
 His remark as I left the car justified my belief: 
 
 "It's de door to dc left, sir; I suppose dat's
 
 ISO PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 wot yVant. He's de feller wot can make us 
 come t'life again, dey tells me, but I'm tellin' 
 yer he's one big fake." 
 
 I laughed and rang the bell. The door was 
 opened almost immediately by a French maid, 
 who quietly showed me into a little waiting 
 room. In a few minutes Henry Russell, for 
 merly a director of the new opera in Paris, as 
 well as Covent Garden in London, and the 
 Chicago Opera Company in Illinois, greeted 
 me with outstretched hands. Mr. Russell told 
 me that he was to be Maeterlinck's director in 
 this country, especially as they were great per- 
 sonal friends. Although I had never met him 
 personally before I distinctly remembered him 
 as the producer of *'Pelleas and Melisandre," 
 one of Maeterlinck's first plays, which was 
 given in Boston several years ago. Russell, in 
 connection with Richard Hovey, is responsible 
 for much of Maeterlinck's translations in this 
 country. 
 
 He left me alone for a few minutes, and I 
 amused myself by looking out of the window 
 at the other newspapermen jogging up and 
 down to keep from freezing on the sidewalk 
 below. I was just wondering why I had been 
 so lucky as to get to the point of attack so
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 151 
 
 quickly when the door reopened and Russell, in 
 low tones, told me to advance, for the "Great 
 Master," as he termed Maeterlinck, was await- 
 ing my presence. 
 
 At first I thought he was joking. So I 
 played up with the game and tiptoed into the 
 hallway beyond. A few seconds elapsed and 
 then the hall suddenly became quite dark and 
 a curtain parted ahead of me. When my eyes 
 became accustomed to this semi-dramatic effect 
 I saw a long, tremendously high apartment 
 hung in deep, rich damask, void of furniture 
 with the exception of a few necessary tables 
 and chairs, and singular to relate having only 
 one little window. Through this a silvery light 
 was shining into the far end of the room, which 
 I later discovered was caused by the deep snow 
 on nearby roofs. For a moment it so blinded 
 me that I saw nothing of any one else, and 
 then to the right of the window, in a deep easy 
 chair, sat a figure clothed entirely in white. It 
 seemed in deep meditation and did not move as 
 I entered the room. 
 
 In my mind there buzzed back and forth 
 those two strange words of a moment before, 
 the "Great Master"; but what a different 
 conception from the brain picture was the
 
 152 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 one which now greeted my eye. The smok- 
 ing jacket, for such it was, contrary to my 
 opinion that Maeterlinck was still clothed in 
 his pajamas, the blue bedroom slippers and 
 the deep look of meditation strongly brought 
 back the words of the elevator man who had 
 brought me to this mysterious chamber. 
 
 When Maeterlinck arose to greet me, I real- 
 ized the full dignity of the great man, and his 
 very unconventional way soon impressed me. 
 He was not young looking, yet far from old, 
 and his thought that he was being imposed upon 
 to make "effect" for the columns of the daily 
 papers made me a bit indignant. We seated 
 ourselves by the window overlooking the great 
 city, and a calm smile soon settled over his 
 face as though he were thinking of what Christ- 
 mas meant to thousands of homes beneath the 
 distant roofs. 
 
 Though far from garrulous in the presence 
 of comparative strangers Maeterlinck talked 
 freely enough about those things which seemed 
 to be of foremost importance in his mind. 
 His power of description was vivid, and yet 
 expressed in English it was most amusing. 
 We spoke chiefly in French, for he told me 
 confidentially that English was as hard for him
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 153 
 
 to grasp as laughing would be to a pessimist. 
 
 "I am literally swamped with America's hos- 
 pitality," he said to me, and his eyes moistened 
 as he continued, "you Americans haven't given 
 me time to breathe nor to thank you. I do 
 not wish to hurt anybody's feeHngs, but how 
 can I thank every one myself? 
 
 "Do you see that cake over there on the 
 table? A very poor old man brought it to me 
 this morning. He said that he had avoided 
 the attendants downstairs and had climbed 
 many flights in order to reach me personally. 
 I was then in my bath and my servant told him 
 he couldn't see me. He said he didn't care 
 how he saw me as long as he could just look 
 at me and tell his friends whether I looked 
 like what he thought I ought to look like, or 
 not. I did not know that he was there and, 
 hearing a slight noise in my living room, I 
 got out of the bath, threw a towel around my- 
 self, and while still dripping wet went into 
 the other room. The little old man bowed 
 profusely and handed me the cake. He said 
 he was a poor Belgian poet and had been up 
 all night writing a verse and making his cake 
 for me. He refused to give his name, as he
 
 154 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 said it might look as though he were trying 
 to get publicity. 
 
 "I was more touched by that cake than many 
 other things I have received in years. I shall 
 treasure it, if it can be treasured, as though 
 it contained valuable jewels — and yet it is but 
 one of a hundred gifts that have reached me 
 in the past twenty-four hours. You Ameri- 
 cans are indeed a generous, wonderful 
 people." 
 
 Photographs do not do Maeterlinck jus- 
 tice, for he really radiates an atmosphere of 
 peace and cordiality. Although it is a well 
 established fact that he has always shut him- 
 self away from visitors, it is not because of 
 any unwillingness on his part. I believe that 
 his attitude toward the public has always been 
 grossly misrepresented, for as a matter of fact 
 he impressed me as being most kindly disposed 
 toward the world in general. He is less likely 
 to intimidate than to be intimidated. His deep 
 sensibilities and the understanding of the emo- 
 tions of his fellow men have made him the 
 genius of the sphere in which he moves, and 
 yet all of this had to be cast aside when he 
 came to America, and instead a screen of 
 foolishness erected in order to bewilder a news-
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 155 
 
 paperman, representing a paper that was pub- 
 lished in Paris as well as in New York, who 
 might in turn elaborate to an awestricken pub- 
 lic. He justified my surmises when he next 
 spoke. 
 
 "Usually I am scared to death of reporters. 
 I have been picked apart and reassembled so 
 many times that I am afraid to trust any of 
 them. You newspapermen have so many ex- 
 pressions at which you snicker and laugh as 
 though they conveyed great amusement. To 
 me they are guttural and harsh sounding. My 
 tongue always seems to come too late; the for- 
 mation of the muscles of the mouth and tongue 
 of the foreigner are too set to adapt them- 
 selves to your unphonetic spelling. French, 
 on the other hand, is spoken with an intensity 
 and ease the same as it is spelled." 
 
 Here he hesitated, then lighting a cigarette 
 continued, "I have long wished to come to 
 this weird and mysterious land, but I have 
 always been afraid of that prying publicity for 
 which America and Americans are renowned. 
 And then, too, I did not know the language. 
 Finally my friend, Henry Russell, bid me make 
 my debut to tell Americans my discoveries of 
 what happens to us after death. That is why I
 
 156 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 am here to-day. Three weeks before my de- 
 parture I got, as you Americans would say, 'cold 
 in the feet,' and wrote Mr. Russell that I could 
 not come, yet I am here all the same. I do not 
 hesitate to tell you that I am a very nervous, 
 timid individual, and that my greatest desire is 
 to be left quiet and alone. 
 
 "Since I am here I shall talk, as I promised, 
 on the hereafter, for I believe that I consider 
 It from an entirely different point of view than 
 the great Oliver Lodge. I believe In the per- 
 sonality of the soul continuing after what we 
 call death. The war was a specter of martyr- 
 dom and it stirred us with tremendous pity 
 and indignation. Many heavy hearts turned 
 then, as they are turning now, to the messages 
 which are coming to us from the after-life." 
 
 At this moment a little lady entered the 
 room and stood for a second as though hesi- 
 tating whether to advance or return from 
 whence she had come. He caught her eye, 
 and she came over beside him while I arose 
 to go. She was a frail little thing and many 
 years younger than her husband, and yet her 
 affection for him was marked in everything 
 that she did. Many are the stories we have
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 157 
 
 heard of Maeterlinck's personal life, his wives 
 and his ideal of a perfect trio, but never a word 
 did he mention of this to me; and it would 
 have been hard to persuade me to believe that 
 this was true, after the touching scenes which 
 went on in his apartment that Christmas morn- 
 ing. 
 
 A bright light was shining on the great 
 thinker, through the little roof-top window, 
 as I passed through the door; drifts of cotton- 
 like snow whisked themselves towards him, and 
 a cheery, simple voice was saying: "Merry 
 Christmas and, remember, I like your New 
 York, and, I believe I love your America." 
 
 That was the last I saw of Maeterlinck 
 from any degree of proximity. A week later 
 the bulletin boards in various sections of the 
 city announced that "Maurice Maeterlinck," 
 the Belgian poet, would talk on after-life at 
 Carnegie Hall, and I was assigned to "cover" 
 the story. This was at the time when Maeter- 
 linck could secure a line from Metropolitan 
 newspapers for every breath he took. 
 
 Two days before the great speech I tried 
 to secure from the person who had taught the 
 Belgian to speak English his side of the 
 Story. It was my good fortune to find young
 
 158 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 Sheridan Russell, the son of Henry Russell, 
 responsible for the deed. The young man in 
 question was delighted with the idea that his 
 name would appear in the papers, and was 
 willing to tell me everything. Although born 
 in London in 1901 he had been educated with 
 much care in various parts of Europe, so that 
 he spoke nine languages fluently. His main 
 ambition was far from languages, and prob- 
 ably would not be proper to record in these 
 pages, but his ideas of teaching Maeterlinck 
 were so droll that I could not refrain from 
 laughing when he repeated them to me. The 
 next morning we ran a two-column spread, giv- 
 ing Sheridan Russell's views of teaching a for- 
 eigner the English language. 
 
 The night after this, I wished with all my 
 heart that we had not paid so much attention 
 to when or where Maeterlinck learned to speak 
 his "English." 
 
 There were two of us recording the address 
 that evening, and would that there had been 
 more I The hall was packed until not another 
 solitary soul could have entered, and the silence 
 before the lecturer began was very marked. I 
 had been stationed in the back of the house, in 
 order to cover those who were there, and any
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 159 
 
 stray bits of conversation. The lecturer was 
 introduced by the Belgian Ambassador, and the 
 national anthems of his country and ours were 
 then played. 
 
 Being in the back of the hall It was difficult 
 to hear very distinctly what was being said, 
 and yet when Maeterlinck began to speak I 
 believed that I was entirely losing my sense 
 of proportion in words. It seems as though 
 he were speaking Egyptian instead of our lan- 
 guage, and I wondered whether that little imp, 
 who told me he had taught him English, had 
 taught him Japanese instead. For a long time 
 the audience seemed to bear out a good deal 
 more bravely than the press. Occasionally 
 people would turn and look at each other, 
 sometimes one would see an individual push- 
 ing at his ears, while others strained a little 
 harder in order to catch some more of the queer 
 phraseology. And then the inevitable hap- 
 pened. Hooting and catcalls from the galleries 
 and laughing and hissing from the orchestra. 
 
 For a time the situation was most embar- 
 rassing. Many people left their seats and 
 besieged the box-office, requesting a refund 
 of their money. Reserves from one of the 
 nearby pohce stations arrived and took charge
 
 i6o PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 of the crowds at the ticket offices and firemen 
 opened all the exits. 
 
 Charles Evans Hughes, who was on the 
 platform, urged the audience to remain quiet 
 and listen attentively so that they might un- 
 derstand the speaker, but the damage was 
 done, and the hall began to empty itself. 
 Maeterlinck was evidently in despair, but 
 the noise continued. Finally some professor 
 climbed on the stage and delivered a transla- 
 tion of the speech in good, clear-cut American, 
 yet very few persons remained to hear what he 
 had to say. 
 
 A few days after this affair came a rumor 
 from the lyceum bureau people who had en- 
 gaged Maeterlinck to speak in this country, that 
 their contract had been broken and that they 
 were about to sue the great thinker for a very 
 large sum. Again the news-hounds were on the 
 trail, but the bureau completely denied the ru- 
 mor, stating, though, that they would have an 
 injunction served so that the poet could not 
 speak in any other language save English — and 
 real English at that — while he was in this coun- 
 try. 
 
 Some days afterwards Maeterlinck's own 
 
 publicity man announced that the poet would
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER i6i 
 
 deliver a lecture on after-life, in French, at the 
 Ritz hotel. The newspaper offices were buz- 
 zing, and sure enough Maeterlinck spoke as 
 he had promised, although he was surrounded 
 by a score or more detectives. 
 
 The author had the pleasure of "covering" 
 this recital, and gleaned probably more amuse- 
 ment out of it than from either of the pre- 
 ceding stories. The stage erected in the ball- 
 room of the Ritz-Carlton was lined in deep 
 blue velvet, with but one small light in the 
 center. Fearing lest the lyceum bureau 
 might endeavor to stop his lecture by serv- 
 ing him with a court injunction, Maeterlinck 
 reached the stage from the street, many floors 
 below, in the laundry elevator, which connected 
 with the back of the stage. As he appeared 
 before his audience he was closely followed by 
 a tall, clean-shaven man, the mystery of whose 
 presence caused much interest. It was revealed 
 later that the man was none other than a sleuth 
 from a private detective agency. 
 
 In the audience, at intervals, were more de- 
 tectives, while outside the entrance of the room 
 many plain-clothes men walked up and down. 
 
 When Major P , head of the lyceum 
 
 bureau, entered the room, a great buzzing
 
 i62 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 occurred and the poet retired to the back of 
 the stage, but the major seemed as much 
 amused at the scene as the audience and nothing 
 occurred beyond a lot of good-natured laughter. 
 
 Maeterlinck delivered his lecture in French, 
 and the entire time the private detective sat 
 close beside him, one hand in his pocket, grasp- 
 ing the butt of a burly revolver, the other strok- 
 ing his chin, while endeavoring with alert 
 vision to seem as interested as possible in all 
 that the poet was saying. Occasionally he 
 clapped his hands and once or twice finding that 
 this was not quite 'au fait* relapsed into an 
 indifferent position. He was plainly trying to 
 be as affable as he could but realized, as did the 
 audience, that this was at times quite impos- 
 sible. 
 
 That evening as the author brought in the 
 story concerning Maeterlinck's attempted lec- 
 ture during the afternoon, the City Editor told 
 him in a quiet but firm manner that no more 
 space would be given the Belgian poet until 
 he commenced "acting like a man" instead of 
 "a young and foolish child." Although I 
 admit that I was astonished, I later realized the 
 truth. Maeterlinck continued for sometime to 
 do queer and rather amazing things, probably
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 163 
 
 in a vain attempt to get the ears and eyes of 
 the press, and then seeing that this was utterly 
 impossible, slipped into complete oblivion as 
 far as this country was concerned. 
 It was a sad end for a genius.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 SQUIRREL FOOD 
 
 "Fools rush in where angels fear to tread." 
 
 One would be certain that Pope had justly 
 predicted, were one to enter the visitors' room 
 of any large metropolitan newspaper near the 
 bewitching hour of midnight. 
 
 It was many weeks after I had begun re- 
 porting when I noticed that New York con- 
 tained many irrational people — whose chief oc- 
 cupation is to pester newspaper offices. 
 
 A few months after I had been assigned to 
 
 our criminology department, there happened 
 
 to be a lack of criminal news; so that several of 
 
 us spent most of the evenings whiling away our 
 
 time. Occasionally we went to the visitors' 
 
 room to question some one who had sent in to 
 
 see the editor. We always had to explain that 
 
 the editor was occupied or that he had left the 
 
 office, in order to ascertain what the visitor 
 
 wanted. 
 
 164
 
 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 165 
 
 Most of those who frequent the outer office 
 are "regulars"; that is to say they turn up 
 regularly every few days with a peculiar piece 
 of information, which is not of much conse- 
 quence. There are others, often prominent 
 citizens, who desire to secure publicity for a 
 cause in which they are interested and deem 
 that the best way to get it is by calling per- 
 sonally at the office. But the strangest melee 
 of all are the wild-eyed, feeble-minded Don 
 Quixotes, with predictions of terrible disas- 
 ters upon their lips. 
 
 At first the assignment of the outer office 
 seemed dry and uninteresting, when a fire or a 
 murder was reported, and I was often rather 
 disappointed to be sent out there. Later, it 
 seemed as though the visitors' room was the 
 most interesting in the building, especially when 
 one desired to study poverty of intellect. The 
 simplicity of the narrow-minded as seen by a 
 reporter is indeed a more thorough human story 
 than the psychopathic ward in Bellevue Hos- 
 pital. 
 
 The first case which left an impression upon 
 the author occurred one evening at about 
 eleven o'clock. A gentleman of means, whose
 
 1 66 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 name was as well known as the President's, had 
 sent in his card; and although it was not cus- 
 tomary for him to call upon the editor, the lat- 
 ter was no respecter of custom, so he told a re- 
 porter to see what the distinguished one wanted. 
 
 In the visitors' room, which was about half 
 a block, away from, the Editorial Department, 
 some sixteen woe-begone individuals were 
 seated. As I entered, each in turn arose and 
 looked expectantly toward me; but the one to 
 whom I desired to speak was easily recogniz- 
 able. Elderly, pompous, and very dignified, he 
 possessed all the attributes which motion pic- 
 tures lend their would-be magnates." 
 
 "Are you the editor, young man?" he ques- 
 tioned, without rising from his seat. 
 
 I explained that the editor had just stepped 
 out to get something to eat and that the as- 
 sistant editor was extremely busy as we were 
 going to "press." He looked rather disgrun- 
 tled, but probably realized that it was impera- 
 tive to place in print whatever he had to say 
 and that to do so he would have to hurry. 
 
 "All right, young man; now let's get down 
 to business," was his reply. 
 
 From a deep, black despatch case he drew
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 167 
 
 forth a great collection of material, mainly 
 blueprints and unintelligible script. This he 
 laid on the sofa between us and, adjusting his 
 spectacles, continued: 
 
 "It is of the utmost importance, young man, 
 that this material should be placed before the 
 public in your morning edition. A Vigilance 
 League has been formed by prominent men to 
 give voice to the average citizen's protest 
 against prohibition. The league will support 
 an action recently started in Washington in 
 the United States Court to test the validity 
 of the Eighteenth Amendment and to present 
 the people's case against it. 
 
 "We members of this committee have no 
 interest in or connection with the liquor busi- 
 ness. We are not concerned about restoring 
 the saloon nor do we defend the evils of the 
 liquor traffic. What we do say is that the 
 fight for prohibition has been grossly misman- 
 aged and that the rights of millions of men 
 and women who are temperate, sober and de- 
 cent and who find pleasure in the moderate 
 use of light liquors, have been entirely ig- 
 nored." 
 
 He would have continued for I know not
 
 i68 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 how long had I not arisen at the moment. 
 Although indignant, he knew not what to say. 
 I told him we had received quantities of that 
 material during the past few days and that he 
 was only wasting his time by telling me more 
 about it. When he had departed I realized, as I 
 had done when he spoke to me, that he merely 
 wished to place his name in print in order to 
 counteract rumors which were current at that 
 time to the effect that he had been backing the 
 Prohibitionists with tremendous sums of 
 money. 
 
 Radicals of one sort or another, chiefly of 
 the harmless variety, often entered the visi- 
 tors' room with schemes for the betterment 
 of the relations between capital and labor. 
 Was it not Voltaire who said that ideas were 
 like beards, for men did not have them until 
 they grew up ? 
 
 Sometimes persons temporarily deranged 
 would put in an appearance and often we would 
 see that they reached comfortable lodgings be- 
 fore the night was over. How well I remem- 
 ber an elderly woman who caused a commo- 
 tion on Christmas eve. 
 
 The page-boy had informed the editor that
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 169 
 
 a particularly wild-eyed personage, scantily at- 
 tired, was waiting him in the outer office with 
 the information that she would not move until 
 he repaid her the million dollars he had bor- 
 rowed ten years before. The editor told me 
 to see what she looked like and to try to con- 
 vince her she must have loaned her money to 
 some one less prosperous than he. 
 
 When I gazed at her through a crack in 
 the wall, I knew at once she was the type of 
 person a squirrel would delight to meet. Her 
 hair was unbrushed and waving in every direc- 
 tion and her black dress seemed about ready 
 to fall apart. Aside from this she wore abso- 
 lutely no shoes or stockings upon her feet! 
 
 I accosted her from the doorway, fearing 
 lest she might mistake me for the editor. Her 
 eyes were blurred and she smiled with an un- 
 canny twist of her lips. 
 
 "Ain't you de feller dat took my million?" 
 she was saying, while I edged nearer the stair- 
 way. "Well, I wants it back and I wants it 
 quick." 
 
 I tried to convince her that she was mis- 
 taken. I told her no one in the office had a 
 million dollars and very few of them had nerve
 
 I70 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 enough to borrow that sum. She kept repeat- 
 ing that she wanted the "million" and that she 
 wouldn't leave until she got it. I told her I 
 feared then that she would be obliged to stay 
 all night; but there was no sign of restfulness 
 upon her face, and fearful lest she might try 
 to do damage, I returned to the city desk. 
 
 Four other reporters, each in turn, went out 
 to see what they could do; one of them came 
 back In a hurry with the information that she 
 had endeavored to scratch his eyes out. There 
 was great mirth at this, and for a time it 
 looked as though the City Editor would have 
 to break a rule and see the mistress of a mil- 
 lion, himself. 
 
 And then it was that the page-boy burst into 
 the Editorial Room with the information that 
 she was disrobing herself. What could mere 
 men do in that case? One reporter called for 
 an ambulance; another went out to get a police- 
 man; a third followed the page into the hall 
 to find out if what he said was true! He re- 
 turned a few moments later, with an expression 
 of relief upon his face: 
 
 "I gave her a dime," he said, "and told 
 her that was all the editor could pay now, but
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 171 
 
 that if she returned ten years later he would 
 give her her money with six per cent interest." 
 
 Many persons possessed of an inventive 
 mind are also pests of the newspaper outer 
 offices. They do not seem to realize that news 
 and personal material are different languages, 
 and when they seek to secure two or three 
 columns devoted exclusively to their inventive 
 minds they are doing themselves an injustice. 
 William Winter has told us that a newspaper, 
 like a theater, must mainly owe its continuance 
 in life to the fact that it pleases many persons; 
 and in order to please many persons it will, un- 
 consciously perhaps, respond to their several 
 tastes, reflect their various qualities, and repro- 
 duce all their views. 
 
 Some nuisances are inventive as an excuse. 
 One evening this was clearly demonstrated 
 by a young man of demure aspect who showed 
 the author his latest invention. The blueprints 
 were extravagant and the descriptive material 
 took up volumes of typewritten pages. It was 
 a machine to be attached to the masts of all 
 ocean liners; and in mechanical language he ex- 
 plained that a vacuum coil (which he had de- 
 vised two years before) would then attract all
 
 172 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 the electricity in the surrounding atmosphere, 
 which would be conducted into the sea by means 
 of specially constructed brass wires. This he 
 claimed would entirely eliminate the severe elec- 
 trical storms which were at that time descend- 
 ing upon the east coast. 
 
 Another man, as eccentric as a comet, had 
 a habit of paying us a visit once or twice a 
 month, with a device which although not pat- 
 ented, he believed ought to be. His ideas were 
 like bad quarters, for he spent his life trying 
 to pass them off on some one else. At one 
 time he fell heir to the receipt of a new salve, 
 which he was certain would cure any open 
 wound in less time than anything previously 
 invented. He tried to demonstrate this upon 
 the man who ran the elevator at the visitors' 
 entrance and it took a policeman's club to clear 
 the situation. 
 
 Cripples are not excepted from the kaleido- 
 scope which revolves about the outer office. 
 Many blinded and limbless persons are con- 
 stantly seeking aid. Mothers trying to locate 
 their children, and wives searching for their 
 husbands, make a newspaper office as much their 
 headquarters as the police stations. And, with 
 the good, there are also the bad.
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 173 
 
 Wounded soldiers were among this type in 
 1920, the difficult part being that of separating 
 the just from the otherwise. They would 
 appear at night, along with the rest of the 
 nondescript multitude; and their questions 
 would be answered and advice given in the 
 same manner as that donated at the charity 
 booths in the streets below. 
 
 All reporters have had "episodes" which 
 stand out in their minds, but I believe the one 
 the author had on New Year's Day beats them 
 all. The page-boy had announced a one-legged 
 soldier, who desired some information which 
 he thought he might procure, as we published 
 an edition every morning in Paris. He was a 
 good-looking young fellow, dressed in khaki, 
 and leaning on crutches, and his desired infor- 
 mation softened my heart. He told me his 
 fiancee had gone to France as a nurse in hopes 
 of being near him; that was two years ago, but 
 to this day he had never received another word 
 from her. We cabled this information to 
 Paris, together with the girl's name and former 
 address. He departed from the office filled 
 with thanks. 
 
 Scarcely ten minutes later the boy again an-
 
 174 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 nounced a one-legged soldier. I told him he 
 was mistaken as I had just seen that man, but 
 he laughed and said it was a different fellow. 
 So out I went, and there seated on a sofa was 
 a man in civilian clothes, wearing a service but- 
 ton, his left limb amputated at the knee. He 
 told me he had lost it in a railway accident 
 in France, and that although the hospital had 
 discharged him he could not get any work in 
 New York. He said he was starving and that 
 his wife and child were at the point of death. 
 He wanted to borrow enough money to get 
 them all back to Scranton, Pa., which he prom- 
 ised to repay as soon as he could afford to. 
 Without telling the editor, I loaned him the 
 amount and sent a messenger to the Pennsyl- 
 vania Station to see that he really took the 
 train. I never expected to hear from him 
 again, but two months later I received the 
 full amount of my loan in return. 
 
 As I was resuming my seat in the office, the 
 page again returned and said there was another 
 one-legged man awaiting me. It had then be- 
 come a joke with the other reporters; so, natur- 
 ally, as many as could do so came out to watch 
 the proceedings. This time the soldier was a
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 175 
 
 fat, foreign-looking man, about middle-age, 
 with a bald head. He complained that he 
 could not get work, that he was starving, and 
 that since leaving the hospital his wounded 
 knee had festered so that it was giving him 
 blood poisoning. He wanted to borrow fifty 
 dollars in order to take care of all these things 
 as soon as possible. I calmly told him, how- 
 ever, that the Herald did not loan money to 
 any one and I feared we could do nothing. 
 He swore under his breath in German, and, 
 understanding the language, I asked him where 
 he was born. He appeared indignant and said 
 it was none of my business and then hobbled 
 off on his crutches downstairs. Two of the 
 reporters followed him and thereby hangs the 
 tale. They said he went to a tenement in a 
 crowded west-side district and entered a room. 
 They took turns looking through the keyhole, 
 only to find that the amputated limb was in 
 reality the lower part of his leg bent back at 
 the knee joint and firmly bandaged to the hip. 
 It later developed that this imposter had been 
 a double-jointed actor in pre-war days, but 
 was interned for two years and, upon being 
 released, had gained a living by posing as a
 
 176 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 wounded soldier upon the streets of New York, 
 with occasional trips to newspaper offices. 
 
 While some people, to use Churchill's ex- 
 pression, try to varnish nonsense with the 
 charms of sound, others choose the literary- 
 path; for many are the letters addressed to 
 the editor of a large news organ. I think 
 the most amusing one ran as follows: 
 
 Dear Sir: — If you will lend me two hundred dollars I 
 will be in-debt to you for life.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 A FOREIGN BUYER 
 
 "In the spring a young man's fancy turns 
 to," etc., etc. Such is the manner of the ancient 
 prophecy. 
 
 Yet in the Spring, of which I am writing, 
 my thoughts had turned to entirely different 
 means of existence. First, the work on the 
 newspaper staff required most of my time, and 
 secondly, I was right in the midst of a campaign 
 to sell an old and very dilapidated automobile. 
 
 Several months before, a friend whose name 
 was well known in the automobile field, had 
 told me of an auction in which an automobile 
 he desired to purchase was to be sold. He 
 was afraid to use his name as the price might 
 increase, and he was afraid to appear on the 
 ground in case he should be recognized by some 
 of those on the auction floor. 
 
 He asked me to bear the brunt, and for 
 friendship I consented, yet I'll venture to ad- 
 
 J77
 
 178 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 mit that it's the last time I'll ever be thus 
 helpful for any one, no matter how good a 
 friend he proves to be. 
 
 I bid on the car, and was left to pay for 
 it. The amount being a good deal larger 
 than the pocket money which I gained in those 
 days, left a considerable hole in the place from 
 which it came, and I remained with an out- 
 rageous monster upon my hands. What to 
 do with it, I knew not. To make matters 
 worse, the man I had so brazenly trusted went 
 into bankruptcy, and having no written agree- 
 ment with him, I could do nothing. 
 
 For eight months I did all in my power to 
 rid myself of the monster which had jarred 
 its way into my innermost sensibilities, but no 
 solution offered itself. Advertising in all the 
 papers, from which one usually finds just re- 
 wards, brought one no nearer a solution. 
 
 About this same time the country of Czecho- 
 slovakia was endeavoring to place itself, in a 
 commercial manner, before the people of the 
 United States. Representatives of the new 
 repubhc had appeared in eastern cities, and 
 numerous buyers, armed with heavily sealed 
 credentials, had made themselves known to the 
 public press.
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 179 
 
 It was a foregone conclusion in the news- 
 paper office in which I worked that a great 
 many of these so-called buyers were none other 
 than professional "fakirs," eager to grasp 
 every penny on which they were able to lay their 
 hands. It was, therefore, agreed that our pol- 
 icy would be to give no one .publicity unless he 
 were recommended by some reputable institu- 
 tion. 
 
 One afternoon, I was ordered to cover a 
 luncheon of foreign diplomats, given in honor 
 of the representative of Hungary's Premier. 
 The luncheon was not supposed to be recorded 
 in the press, but was merely to acquaint the 
 heads of the metropolitan journals with this 
 emissary of Dr. Huszar. Some one on the 
 staff of our paper found he could not attend 
 and I was sent in his place. Later I rather 
 fancied some one had been "tipped off" be- 
 forehand that the luncheon would be a dull 
 affair, and having a grudge against me, he had 
 decided to "pass the buck" to the poor, un- 
 suspecting "cub." 
 
 When I arrived at the Plaza Hotel, and told 
 the toastmaster that the man I represented 
 could not be present, he bowed most graciously
 
 i8o PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 and asked me to take the absent gentleman's 
 seat just the same. I did so. I scarcely re- 
 member to this day who was present at the 
 luncheon; however, the name of Cyrus H. K. 
 Curtis, publisher of The Saturday Evening 
 Post, impressed itself on me, for that very 
 dignified gendeman sat opposite me, with the 
 most bored of expressions. 
 
 There were many speakers, mainly those 
 who at some time or another in their careers 
 had erred long enough to visit the new repub- 
 lic, and who proclaimed it a most wonderful 
 land, the resources of which would ever be a 
 market for American capital. I believe I 
 listened to more genuine foolishness that after- 
 noon than ever before; but as I was obliged to 
 represent a dignified newspaper, I could do 
 nothing but appear to be keenly interested. 
 
 Beside me there sat a wild-eyed foreigner. 
 He appeared to enjoy the food that was placed 
 before him more than the conversation that 
 was going on about him, and it was not until 
 we had finished the salad that he even looked 
 up and took notice of the situation. I won- 
 dered whether he had ever been visited by 
 any of our highly advertised Relief Commis- 
 sioners.
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER i8i 
 
 When the dessert was passed he turned to 
 me and smiled broadly. 
 
 "This is bully chow," he said, in the broad- 
 est western accent, while I smothered a startled 
 exclamation. 
 
 "Haven't tasted the like of it since I went 
 to the Moulin Rouge in Paris two months 
 ago." 
 
 As I could not include the Moulin Rouge, 
 in Paris in my vocabulary of that region, and 
 as I had never heard that the food in that 
 emporium was any too remarkable, I thought 
 it best to agree with him. 
 
 An elderly gentleman was telling his audi- 
 ence that he was a well-to-do Pacific coast 
 manufacturer. He claimed that prices had 
 so increased since the commencement of hos- 
 tilities that he had been obliged to close 
 his plant near Portland, Oregon. Furthermore, 
 he said, that just as the silver lining was fading 
 from his vision, his attention was called to 
 Czecho-Slovakia. He set forth immediately 
 for that country. To-day, he said, he was manu- 
 facturing all his material in Silesia, at a cost in- 
 cluding transportation there and back of twelve 
 per cent lower than the price paid before the
 
 1 82 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 war. His anecdote met with a great deal of ap- 
 plause, although some of those at the table, in- 
 cluding my friend opposite, breathed a visible 
 sigh of relief. 
 
 A telegram from Dr. Masaryk, president 
 of the new republic, closed the conference. 
 
 As I was leaving, my companion with the 
 great hunger tapped me lightly upon the arm 
 and asked me to accompany him next door. 
 We went into a large smoking-room and seated 
 ourselves upon some deep plush chairs. 
 
 "What newspaper do you represent, young 
 man?" was the first question I heard myself 
 being asked. 
 
 I told him it was the Herald. 
 
 "Ah," he replied, as though in deep medi- 
 tation, "the same as that which appears in 
 Paris? Well, then, we are sure to be friends." 
 
 I told him I hoped so, and got up to leave 
 him. I had not grown as fond of this strange, 
 eccentric man as he appeared to be of me. 
 
 When I reached the office I said nothing to 
 the City Desk of my acquaintance, but next day 
 I was told that a Czecho-Slovakian representa- 
 tive had called many times asking that the gen- 
 tleman who had attended the luncheon the day
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 183 
 
 before communicate with him as soon as he 
 came in. 
 
 Late that afternoon I presented myself at 
 the door of an apartment on upper Madison 
 Avenue. Soon afterward the buyer joined me 
 and we walked into Central Park. We found 
 a comfortable seat, and he expounded to me 
 the need for publicity in running the cam- 
 paign he had agreed to manage for the new re- 
 public of Europe. He told me a weird story, 
 which I was loath to believe. 
 
 He claimed that about four months before 
 he had been starving in Chicago. One evening 
 when he believed his last hours had come, he 
 decided to jump in the lake and end his 
 misery. He was crossing Lake Shore Boule- 
 vard when he noticed an elderly gentleman 
 scratching in the gravel as though trying to 
 find something. An automobile was coming 
 directly for the old man, and had not my 
 story teller jumped toward him, he claimed, 
 the old man would surely have been killed. 
 The gentleman proved none other than the 
 western representative for Czecho-Slovakia, 
 and as a recompense had offered to make him a 
 foreign buyer for the republic. 
 
 He added that he had several million dol-
 
 1 84 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 lars at his disposal, but that in order to get 
 in touch with the right kind of people he had 
 to be better known, and that he therefore had 
 to have some publicity. As I had never taken 
 a course in advertising, I did not know what 
 advice to give him, and we commenced walk- 
 ing back to his apartment. 
 
 When we reached there he espied my ram- 
 shackle car, which was standing in front of 
 the door. I told him that I was trying to sell 
 it, and that although it was in good condition, 
 it was such an ungainly object no one wanted 
 to have anything to do with it. He told me 
 that if he had enough money of his own he 
 would Buy it, drive up and down Fifth Avenue, 
 and thereby gain publicity. 
 
 The following day this same man, whom we 
 shall call Mr. WilHams in order to simplify 
 matters, reached me by telephone. I met him 
 in the evening during the time allotted to my 
 supper. He said he was "honored to know 
 me," and though I believed for a long time that 
 he might be temporarily deranged, I felt almost 
 sure after this outbreak that my surmises were 
 correct. 
 
 He was a great deal more polite than the 
 evening before, and after long explanations
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 185 
 
 of the material he wished to possess, asked 
 me if I knew where he could buy very quickly 
 a thousand automobiles for export. 
 
 I gave him the names of many concerns that 
 dealt in second-hand cars, all of which had 
 become familiar objects to me during the past 
 eight months, and I finally told him, as though 
 with great reluctance, that I would sell him 
 my car, if he could pay the price I asked. 
 
 Mr. Williams said he would give me the 
 price I asked provided I could show him what 
 the car would do in traffic. A few minutes 
 later we were driving through the theatri- 
 cal crowds on Broadway. In and out we 
 wound our way, until we finally drew up at 
 the Herald office. He entered and placed a 
 large half-column ad, requesting all second- 
 hand automobile dealers to apply to him, as he 
 wished to export a thousand automobiles at 
 once to Czecho-Slovakia. 
 
 Next morning, as far as the eye could reach 
 on Madison Avenue, in the locality of Mr. 
 Williams' apartment, there were all kinds and 
 sorts of automobiles. It was enough of a 
 story to which any newspaper could devote 
 a column. I was eager to learn whether the 
 checks which Mr. Williams would presumably
 
 1 86 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 pay would come back, and whether the elusive, 
 eccentric man would disappear as swiftly as he 
 had come upon the scene. 
 
 Williams did not seem to be satisfied with 
 the cars, and after taking down the addresses 
 turned them all away. When I asked him his 
 reason he said he must communicate first with 
 the "higher-ups," and then he would let me 
 know whether he would buy the cars. He 
 was very insistent, however, on purchasing an 
 automobile, but as I had had a good offer from 
 a reliable source that morning I did not like to 
 part with the machine to one whose notions 
 proved so queer. 
 
 When I returned to my office after lunch 
 the editor asked me about my car. He in- 
 formed me that a Czecho-Slovakian buyer had 
 called up the office of the Herald and told him 
 that I had inserted an ad in the paper request- 
 ing to buy a thousand automobiles, and giv- 
 ing, instead of my name, his name. He said 
 he resented very much the appearance of all 
 these peculiar cars of every make and descrip- 
 tion outside of his apartment, and that his life 
 was being made miserable by the questions of 
 their owners. 
 
 It was then for the first time that I grasped
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 187 
 
 the scheme, and great was the rage which I 
 vented upon him over the telephone. The 
 following day not a word appeared in the 
 papers concerning the transactions of the 
 would-be buyer, but half a dozen papers sent 
 representatives to find out whether the elusive 
 Mr. Williams was really a representative of 
 Czecho-Slovakia or not. No one seemed to 
 have the slightest idea as to his identity. One 
 paper suggested to the medical authorities that 
 he be taken to Bellevue Hospital for observa- 
 tion; when they reached his apartment he had 
 disappeared. 
 
 For six weeks I did not see him, and then 
 one day while bound for the west, some- 
 body tapped my shoulder In the Grand Central 
 Station. I looked up and saw a poor, unshaven, 
 very badly dressed individual smiling at me, 
 through reams of deep wrinkles. I recognized 
 the mysterious Mr. Williams. 
 
 "America may be well versed in the gentle 
 art of publicit}'," he said, "but it takes Czecho- 
 slovakia to put It all over her." 
 
 To this day the representatives of that re- 
 public firmly deny they knew or had anything 
 to do with the Mr. Williams who tried to gain 
 free publicity for them.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 THE COPY-READER 
 
 Titles are held by some people to be as 
 valuable as precious stones in this great de- 
 mocracy of ours. Yet, did not sohie wiseacre 
 tell us that all is not gold that glitters? And 
 so, to the press, because of their news value, 
 as well as to the public, some European titles 
 mean a great deal more than they really should. 
 
 Therefore, when it is learned that a for- 
 eigner, be he ever so humble, has reached this 
 country, the reporters descend like a covey of 
 vultures, eager to grab the last morsel of indi- 
 viduality from the urbane European, and to 
 distort his words in the same manner as Cen- 
 tral Europe distorted our language in 19 17. 
 
 The Countess de Rodellec du Porzic, wife 
 of a member of one of the remaining really 
 old families in France, upon her arrival in New 
 York sought refuge from squads of reporters, 
 
 camera and motion-picture men, at the St. 
 
 188
 
 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 189 
 
 Regis Hotel. It was not only her title and 
 her record in the war, but the fact that she, 
 as an American girl, had married in France 
 and had achieved fame, that added to her 
 merit. The grand-daughter of William Jones, 
 an influential banker of almost half a century 
 ago, and the sister of Mrs. Charles A. Post, 
 the Countess du Porzic was indeed a celebrated 
 character in America. 
 
 For twelve days the newspapermen lay siege 
 at the hotel, without once being able to recover 
 as much as a word from the very important 
 foreigner, for be it known that Madame de 
 Rodellec detested publicity. 
 
 It was during this so-called siege that the 
 author of these notes one day was lunching at 
 the St. Regis. A staff man on one of the other 
 papers called him aside and asked him whether 
 he had as yet been successful, and not having 
 even been apprised of her arrival, the author 
 was obliged to announce that he knew nothing 
 at all concerning the lady in question. During 
 luncheon, however, I happened to recall that 
 the name was most familiar, and then, all at 
 once, the scene changed. 
 
 Early in the spring of 19 18 I was quar-
 
 190 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 tered in the stable of a chateau in Northern 
 France. The officer for whom I was a de- 
 spatch driver lived at the chateau in luxury 
 and comfort; the orderlies and chauffeurs 
 bunked in the stable. Of Gothic architecture 
 and filled with numerous works of art, fine tap- 
 estries and valuable paintings, Kerstears was 
 one of the most beautiful edifices in this area. 
 For many months the home of allied wounded 
 and of later date the headquarters of Ameri- 
 can generals and staffs, it will be remembered 
 by thousands who saw active service at the 
 front. 
 
 I had not been there long before I was called 
 upon to act as interpreter for an American 
 major, who was at that time provost marshal 
 of the nearby village. Madame de Rodellec 
 recognized something in my accent and asked 
 my name. It developed that she had known 
 my mother and many m.embers of my family 
 in her younger days, and incidentally my quar- 
 ters were transferred from the stable to the 
 chateau itself. But to return to my story. 
 
 An hour later I was seated in the apart- 
 ment of the Countess, chatting away at great 
 length, and telling her and her little niece of 
 the many things which had happened since I
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 191 
 
 had last seen them. Finally, I broached the 
 subject of an interview and the good lady threw 
 up her hands in horror. I tried to per- 
 suade her that if she would give me the exact 
 details and tell me whatever she liked, I would 
 make a perfectly correct and absolutely truth- 
 ful story. I pointed out that if she kept on 
 refusing to see the reporters she would have 
 to remain In her room the entire time she was 
 in America, and added that if she gave me 
 permission to use only a few lines, I would 
 guarantee to drive away all the newspapermen 
 and assure her that they would not return un- 
 less she wanted to see them. 
 
 "But, it is so annoying to see all that I have 
 said and many things which I should never 
 think of saying, in the papers all the time," 
 said Madame de Rodellec, in great distress. 
 "The reporters, they never seem to be able to 
 say what they are told to say. And then, be- 
 sides, they always enlarge and increase on every 
 little thing which they are told." 
 
 "In Paris, we had a terrible time with them. 
 They wanted to know my age, and when and 
 where I was born. I told them they were too 
 impertinent for words and I refused flatly to 
 answer any of their rude questions. They told
 
 192 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 me I didn't have to tell them, for they would 
 telegraph the Bureau of Records and find out 
 my entire personal history, and so I let them 
 do so. 
 
 "The next day there were headlines in the 
 papers stating that I had formerly been the 
 owner of the great Black Diamond. Thirty- 
 eight newspaper representatives besieged my 
 rooms at the Crillon Hotel. I could see the 
 camera and moving-picture men training their 
 apparatus at the front door and I could hear 
 the reporters swearing under their breaths in 
 the hallway. But I remained in my room nine 
 days, until finally I summoned the police, who 
 forcibly removed those awful men, who would 
 have made my entire Paris visit a nightmare. 
 
 "At last I prepared a bulletin stating my 
 occupation, and that I had been the owner 
 of the Black Diamond. My statement was 
 published and the press let me alone. When 
 we left Paris, however, an American corres- 
 pondent happened to be aboard the train and 
 insisted upon coming into our compartment and 
 asking us all about how I happened to lose the 
 great Black Diamond. 
 
 "I began to think that the people were more 
 interested in that miserable diamond than they
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 193 
 
 were in the Peace Treaty, so I never said a 
 word the entire journey. When we reached 
 Cherbourg there were allied correspondents 
 to meet us; they took our photographs and they 
 ran along beside us, with pencil and paper in 
 hand, writing and describing all the things we 
 never said, and all the things we never did. 
 I fully expected to see ourselves falling off the 
 dock or jumping into an aeroplane, but we did 
 not have a chance to see the French papers 
 before we sailed. 
 
 "And it was the same way when we arrived 
 in this city. We escaped, however, and came 
 ashore in the doctor's boat. They landed us 
 on Staten Island and an automobile brought us 
 here. You now see, though, why we are afraid 
 of publicity and why we detest talking to the 
 reporters." 
 
 I did, and I pitied them, yet as I had already 
 gained access to their room, I knew I could not 
 go downstairs without something to tell my 
 compatriots. Therefore, I urged Madame de 
 Rodellec to say a few words, impressing upon 
 her again and again that they would appear 
 just as she wished them to appear, and nothing 
 more, nor less. At last she relented and agreed 
 to tell me something which might be repeated
 
 194 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 to Americans who had served as soldiers in 
 France, and had perhaps seen her chateau and 
 remembered her and her little niece. 
 
 "I can never express my gratitude and my 
 thanks for the wonderful way in which you 
 Americans showed your valor in France," 
 began the Countess. "At the beginning of 
 the war we only knew the An^.erican Ambu- 
 lance Service, that remarkable group of valiant 
 men who were ever at our beck and call in any 
 and every emergency. When the United States 
 severed connections with Germany we thought 
 it would be many long and weary months before 
 we saw any American troops. The French 
 people wondered v.^hat manner of men the 
 American soldiers would be. They discussed 
 around their eating tables whether they would 
 resemble the British, and conduct themselves 
 as the Belgians. They queried as to whether 
 they would be dark complexioned like the 
 Italians, or small and sturdy as the French. 
 And then one day, five weeks after they had 
 declared war on Germany, they came to us. I 
 believe I was one of the first women to welcome 
 the Americans in France. 
 
 "There were tears in the eyes of the French 
 mothers as they kissed the cheeks of the tall,
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 195 
 
 masterly, erect young Americans, who had 
 come four thousand miles in answer to Lafay- 
 ette's call for help. There were cheers and 
 handshakes from the maimed French heroes 
 who watched the Americans on their way to 
 the rest camps; and their was laughter in the 
 eyes of the little boys and girls as they played 
 around the feet of the giants from across the 
 sea. That was the beginning. 
 
 "The days went by and the weeks too, and 
 every day brought more and more stalwart, 
 youthful Americans. They came by the hun- 
 dreds, by the thousands. They filed through our 
 little village, with vigor in their eyes and re- 
 venge written in their hearts. Occasionally 
 bands playing lively music, such as the French 
 had not heard in years, accompanied them. 
 We learned your great patriotic 'Over There' 
 and our hearts filled with sorrow and pity as 
 we thought what was in reahty awaiting you 
 Over Here. 
 
 "Many of those youngsters who laughingly 
 bade us adieu never came back. Many of them 
 had their last taste of mother love and home 
 when they left our little village. Some of 
 them lie beneath the sod in the grave-yard at 
 my chateau.
 
 196 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 "It was my honor to quarter your Gen- 
 eral John F. O'Ryan and some of his staff. 
 After he had gone I knew what it was to re- 
 spect all you youngsters who wore the khaki of 
 America. I know to-day what it is when I see 
 a wounded man in the streets. America came 
 to help France, just as France had helped 
 America a hundred or more years ago, and 
 France will never, never forget America." 
 
 Madame de Rodellec was weeping as she 
 finished telling me this, and I thanked her from 
 the bottom of my heart for giving me her im- 
 pressions as a representative of French 
 mothers and mother love. I arose to go but 
 realized she had not finished. 
 
 "My little niece here," she continued, "is 
 only fourteen, yet she has seen and borne so 
 much these past six years that she seems to 
 be a great deal older. Both her brothers 
 served with the French Army. The eldest was 
 a sergeant in the Dragoons; he was a daring 
 horseman and a valiant young swordsman. At 
 the beginning of the war he was seriously 
 wounded in Belgium and was later taken pris- 
 oner. For three years he went through untold 
 horrors in German prison camps, and in 191 8 
 he was sent to Switzerland, where he has only
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 197 
 
 recently married a sweet little girl whom he 
 had known since childhood and who was serv- 
 ing as a nurse to exchanged prisoners-of-war. 
 
 "Her youngest brother, who was heir to the 
 title, was a lieutenant in the famous Blue Dev- 
 ils. He is said to have been the youngest 
 Frenchman to have received the Legion of 
 Honor. He also was decorated with the Croix 
 de Guerre. He returned home a few days 
 after you left for the front in 19 18 and was 
 killed on the night of his twentieth birthday. 
 
 "My husband, the late Count Oliver de Ro- 
 dellec, had seen service in the diplomatic 
 corps most of his life, and during hostilities 
 served for some time in the Ministry of War 
 and as advisor to the French Military Cabinet. 
 So you see, we too, in our family have been 
 patriotic, and we have given our best blood in 
 the cause of victory." 
 
 Another member of Madame de Rodellec's 
 family had seen service, for I later learned 
 that her father, who was a Frenchman, raised 
 a regiment of Zouaves during the Civil War 
 and was commissioned the youngest Major- 
 General in the Northern Army. Of fighting 
 stock was this grand old lady, and the people 
 of New York who read her story must have
 
 198 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 been favorably Impressed and glad that she 
 had a title. 
 
 As I left her apartment the Countess again 
 impressed upon me the promise of removing 
 the other reporters and of securing an abso- 
 lutely authentic story, one of which she could 
 long be proud, 
 
 "I am a constant reader of your paper," she 
 told me. "Marie Antoinette, here, learned 
 most of her English through reading from it. 
 It gives me great pleasure to jfind therefore a 
 friend of mine on the staff of such a wholesome 
 American paper. And furthermore I'm glad 
 you didn't ask me anything about the Black 
 Diamond, or my age, or anything else which 
 would be embarrassing. I owned, I admit, the 
 great Black Diamond, but a nephew of mine 
 was drowned on the Thame as he was bringing 
 it to America, so I no longer have it. And 
 my age, well, you can guess that, and if you 
 can't you can find it as the other reporters said, 
 in the Bureau of Records." 
 
 Upon arriving in the hall of the St. Regis, 
 I told the other newspapermen just enough of 
 a story to make them all get back to their 
 offices, and yet not enough for them to "beat"
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 199 
 
 me with mine, and I returned to my City 
 
 Editor. 
 
 As soon as the story had been written, I was 
 sent out to cover a fire, which lasted two hours 
 and which destroyed a large building in the 
 theatrical district. I had no sooner come back 
 from that and turned in my material than I 
 was sent out to report on a meeting of the 
 Union Grave Diggers, an organization affili- 
 ated with the American Federation of Labor. 
 Returning from this out I went again to get 
 the particulars concerning two men who had 
 been killed in a powder plant explosion at 
 Wayne, New Jersey, and I did not return until 
 the wee hours of the morning. 
 
 An elderly reporter, who had a desk near me 
 in the city room, had been covering a group 
 of "small fry" as well, and he came over to 
 chat with me. I told him of my big story 
 of the day, and he told me of his story, 
 which he believed was equally big. He had 
 discovered in a small boarding house in the 
 upper reaches of the city the man who had 
 designed the Paris underground sewerage sys- 
 tem. It was a good story and would probably 
 receive a column "spread," he informed me.
 
 200 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 Something must have gone wrong with the copy 
 department machinery for our stories got 
 mixed. 
 
 A few moments later the first edition of the 
 morning Herald came off the rollers and to my 
 amazement I read the following: 
 
 "Countess de Rodellec du ^orzic, who is 
 held in grateful renaerabrance by thou- 
 sands of American soldiers, home from 
 France, arrived in this country three 
 weeks ago. Yesterday she was inter- 
 viewed by a staff reporter and told him 
 of hei admiration of the Americans who 
 had served in France. 
 
 "The arrival of the Countess in this 
 country is of great importance, for it will 
 be remembered that her distinguished 
 husband was the inventor and designer 
 of the Paris underground sewerage sys- 
 tem, etc., etc."
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 THE FIGHTING MAYOR 
 
 From coast to coast and throughout the en- 
 tire world the name of Ole Hansen rang forth 
 in 19 19; and it is doubtful whether there was 
 a person interested in the affairs of the United 
 States who did not know of him and his work. 
 
 Seattle, one of the rivals of New York on 
 the Pacific Coast, and the largest and most 
 prosperous city in the northwest, was the cen- 
 ter of a general strike, the like of which had 
 never before been witnessed. Troops from 
 Camp Lewis, the largest cantonment in the 
 country, machine gun battalions and infantry, 
 had been summoned, and within a few days 
 Ole Hansen, the mayor of the city, was re- 
 ported to have quelled the uprising. Mr. 
 Hansen was "made," to use the vernacular of 
 the reporters, and he must have known it, for 
 
 a few months later he resigned as chief execu- 
 
 201
 
 202 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 tive and launched a series of lectures through- 
 out the country. 
 
 In the fall of the year, there was a persistent 
 rumor that Mr. Hansen was thus preparing 
 to become an aspirant for the republican nomi- 
 nation for President. And indeed, at this time 
 his thorough prescription for the cure of radi- 
 calism had made sensational progress for him 
 in every community. Besides, he failed to deny 
 these rumors, probably since they were current 
 more in the east than in the west. He con- 
 tinued to maintain absolute silence. 
 
 On the twenty-third of September the author 
 arrived in Seattle, having been sent from New 
 York on a swift and interesting mission; and 
 two hours later presented himself on the ninth 
 floor of the Smith Building, a tower-like struc- 
 ture, the highest in the city and the pride of 
 the neighborhood. An office secluded at the 
 far-end of a hall, bearing no name or device 
 upon its doorway, with the exception of a 
 numeral, greeted me; and after knocking a 
 few times I was told to come in. 
 
 The room, which looked out upon the bay, 
 full of shipping, was bare with the exception 
 of a desk at its furthest end, at which was 
 seated a young and exceedingly polite man.
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 203 
 
 The author did not try to conceal his mission, 
 stating simply that he had been sent four thou- 
 sand miles overland to obtain an interview with 
 the fighting mayor of Seattle, and that he 
 hoped his mission would be successful. 
 
 A few minutes later Ole Hansen appeared, 
 smiling radiantly with hands outstretched, his 
 abundant white hair brushed carefully back 
 from his forehead, and the deep grooves of 
 responsibility visible on his cheeks. During 
 the hour that I conversed with him, both from 
 his appearance and from that which he told 
 me, I judged him equal to the heavy responsi- 
 bility of any office that the people of this 
 country might confer on him. His clarity of 
 expression, and the terse and rather picturesque 
 manner in which he spoke reminded me some- 
 what of the late Col. Roosevelt. 
 
 We seated ourselves at his desk, which was 
 covered with manuscripts, pamphlets and social- 
 istic literature; for he was then completing his 
 *'Cause and Cure of Bolshevism." G. A. 
 Ross's "Russia in Upheaval," and John 
 Spargo's "Bolshevism," were at his elbow, 
 while behind him "Labor in Europe and 
 America," Coleman's great success, attracted 
 my attention. A few photographs lined the
 
 204 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 top shelves of a law-book cabinet, in one of 
 which I noticed a large family group, his wife 
 and nine children. His eldest son, a lad of 
 twenty-three, because of ill-health was not 
 fit to serve his country during the war, so Mr. 
 Hansen took his place and served the nation as 
 mayor of one of the most turbulent cities in 
 the country. 
 
 After discussing my trip across the conti- 
 nent, the effect of the Prince of Wales' visit 
 to the Dominion and countless other things, 
 the mayor of Seattle, Mr. Hansen, calmly 
 inquired what he could do for me. Possibly 
 my quiet reply was just as baffling as his ques- 
 tion. 
 
 "I came from New York," I answered, "to 
 ask if you are thinking of the presidency as 
 your ultimate goal?" 
 
 His brown eyes flashed at me keenly as he 
 bent forward and replied: 
 
 "A better man than myself should be chosen 
 as candidate for President — a man more fitted 
 and with greater experience. He should sur- 
 round himself with the best men in our coun- 
 try, or else he will be, regardless of his particu- 
 lar abilities, only a twenty-five per cent Presi- 
 dent. He should be a nationahst and not an
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 205 
 
 internationalist, for the sentimental interna- 
 tionalist is a positive danger in times like these. 
 
 "We must preserve and develop our na- 
 tional morale, or else we will not be in a posi- 
 tion to be of international help. The inter- 
 nationahst loves all countries but will fight for 
 no country. No one can love more than one 
 country any more than he can love more than 
 one woman; and if he says he does, then his 
 love is of the tepid, indiscriminate, skimmed 
 milk variety; skin deep — and thin skin at that. 
 
 "I am not a candidate for any office what- 
 soever, but I do want to be a valuable and 
 worthy private citizen. I want to serve in 
 whatever capacity I believe I can do the most 
 good, for any man who at the present time 
 is giving thought to personal ambition in pub- 
 lic office, unless he believes he can do the most 
 good for his country therein, is not a good 
 American. This is a time when every man 
 and woman in the United States should be 
 thinking about something far different than 
 personal aggrandizement or partisanship. 
 There is too much selfishness in the minds 
 of our people and of our leaders, for the 
 problems confronting our nation are worthy
 
 2o6 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 of the biggest thoughts of our best men, and 
 they must be solved. These questions cannot 
 be laid aside forever; we must meet them now. 
 
 "This war has shifted our population from 
 the country to the city, and most of the new, 
 young, city men have nothing to hold on to, 
 and therefore there is more or less unrest. In 
 wartime these men had the ideals of patriot- 
 ism to mold them together, and they became 
 cogs in the gigantic national machine. At pres- 
 ent they seem to have neither home ties nor 
 religion, and it is this element that is a great 
 factor in the cause of the present unrest. 
 
 "Propaganda will stand for a time unless 
 scattered by the truth, for the value of ad- 
 vertising ideals has not yet been sensed by our 
 patriotic citizenry; it has always been known 
 by the opposite class. Our bookshops are filled 
 with tons of socialistic propaganda in one form 
 or another; our patriotic countrymen have but 
 little to combat it, except the Holy Bible and 
 the Constitution of the United States, and 
 neither of these seem to be popular nowadays. 
 A truth told, will spread; a lie, too, will spread, 
 but despite the general belief the truth will, 
 nine times out of ten, overtake the lie.
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 207 
 
 "All I can ask for or desire is that all good 
 Americans study the fundamentals upon which 
 their government is based and from it spread 
 the truth, for this will overtake the tissues of 
 lies that are enveloping the nation." 
 
 On December 6, several weeks after my in- 
 teresting interview in Seattle, I was seated at 
 the press table of the Silk Association of 
 America's dinner at the Astor Hotel in New 
 York. Mayor Hansen, then in the midst of 
 his Americanization tour of the country, was 
 scheduled to speak, and many prominent men 
 and women from all over the city were present 
 to hear him. 
 
 Although there were over twenty reporters 
 at my table, Mr. Hansen recognized me as 
 soon as he took his place at the speakers' table, 
 and reached over to shake hands. 
 
 His topic that evening was Americaniza- 
 tion, and he spoke exceedingly well; cheers 
 were continuous for many minutes at a time, 
 and when he was through he was escorted to 
 the door by a prominent committee while every 
 member of the fifteen hundred present did him 
 honor by standing as he passed out. 
 
 For two weeks after this I scarcely attended 
 a repast but that Mr. Hansen sat at the
 
 2o8 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 speakers' table, and delivered his well pre- 
 pared talks, and always thousands of voices 
 were lifted up in cheers. One evening we went 
 to Paterson, New Jersey, where he addressed 
 a post of the American Legion; and after his 
 speech radicals throughout that city burned 
 his likeness in effigy. His ideas were sane, 
 his addresses always delivered with a great deal 
 of push to them, and his slang was used to great 
 advantage. Many persons criticized him, claim- 
 ing that he used the same methods as Billy Sun- 
 day, but all were unanimous in their belief that 
 Hansen was a great man. 
 
 How well I remember his address before an 
 organization which favored Oriental immigra- 
 tion, and of which some prominent bankers 
 were directors. The banquet was of the se- 
 vere, quiet variety, held at an exclusive club 
 in upper Fifth Avenue. The speakers had 
 been demonstrating the actual benefit derived 
 from Oriental immigration on our west coast, 
 and an air of pleasing, refined, solemnity was 
 upon the countenances of all. Mr. Hansen, 
 the last speaker on the list, had arrived late, 
 having attended two banquets before. He 
 arose, and all eyes were turned upon him as 
 he commenced to speak.
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 209 
 
 "Gentlemen," he said, glancing at his watch, 
 "I have but a very few minutes to tell you 
 the truth, and I certainly am going to tell it 
 to you. 
 
 "We have a right to keep out any one we 
 do not need or want in this country, and so we 
 should keep out all immigrants who are not 
 needed and who are not a benefit to our land. 
 We should select our immigrants in much the 
 same manner as we selected our soldiers. The 
 intending immigrant should go to our repre- 
 sentative across the sea, fill out a question- 
 naire, make a deposit, and be physically, men- 
 tally, and normally examined, and his past 
 career investigated. Then these different rep- 
 resentatives should send the results with recom- 
 mendations to our Board of Immigration In 
 Washington, who in turn should select the peo- 
 ple they want to allow to enter. 
 
 ''However, I am totally and absolutely 
 against Oriental immigration except that which 
 includes scholars and business m.en, and If I 
 had my way I would exclude every member of 
 an Asiatic creed that I found illegally entering 
 the United States." 
 
 One afternoon he was addressing a legisla-
 
 210 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 tive body in a city adjacent to New York. He 
 had been informed that the public school 
 teachers were underpaid, and their working 
 hours were by far too long in comparison with 
 the salaries they received. But the legislators 
 whom he addressed were not in favor of raising 
 these salaries, and had several times remon- 
 strated against it. Mr. Hansen had been asked 
 to talk on the Seattle strike and the principles 
 of Americanization, and finished his speech in 
 the following manner: 
 
 "The average pay of school teachers is un- 
 der five hundred and fifty dollars a year. They 
 receive less than the average bootblack makes 
 off his tips. They should be paid sufficiently 
 to live in decency and in comfort; but with the 
 pittance they are receiving they cannot be ex- 
 pected to love the people that pay them, for an 
 oppressed individual seldom loves his oppres- 
 sor. We must care for our children in their 
 homes, and we must teach them the truth in 
 relation to Governmental affairs, and the flag 
 of their nation. Americanism should be a defi- 
 nite course in our schools, then the educator 
 will be paid by the generation which he taught 
 sufficiently to make him contented.
 
 OF A CUB REPORTER 211 
 
 "Resolutions will not, cannot, raise a bushel 
 of wheat. If one man had been accustomed 
 to raise five hundred bushels of wheat, and it 
 takes two men to raise the same amount of 
 wheat now, then the two men in the final 
 analysis will receive the exact compensation 
 that one man received before. It is the gener- 
 ation that will crush socialism; and this is the 
 first principle of Americanization." 
 
 Parables of this sort were Mr. Hansen's 
 strong point, for though often his audience 
 did not gather the meaning immediately it al- 
 ways came back to them, and with it was the 
 memory of the snow-white-haired man who had 
 told them of it. 
 
 When Mr. Hansen left New York for other 
 parts of the country it was with genuine sor- 
 row that the reporters who had "covered'* 
 him bid good-bye. He had been a good influence 
 to the men, and all of them had grown exceed- 
 ingly fond of him. His farewell speech summed 
 up the entire lesson which he had taught, and 
 not a few of those who heard it regretted that 
 they had not met the "little man with a punch." 
 
 "We all have a great duty to perform in 
 life," said Mr. Hansen, "a duty which we can-
 
 212 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
 
 not neglect, no matter how we try, and that is, 
 we must each and every one of us accomplish 
 something which shall not be forgotten. You 
 gentlemen of the press, with your views of all 
 sides of life, know that some day sooner or 
 later you are going to accomplish the ideal for 
 which you set out. Never give up, for nothing 
 is impossible, providing you try your hardest 
 to secure it. But keep with you in your fight 
 for the truth in life the thought, too, that what- 
 ever you do, and do righteously, is for the 
 benefit of your country, your country's citizens, 
 your family, and yourselves."
 
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