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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/35679-8.txt b/35679-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..280e8da --- /dev/null +++ b/35679-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5755 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Pieces of Hate, by Heywood Broun + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Pieces of Hate + And Other Enthusiasms + +Author: Heywood Broun + +Release Date: March 26, 2011 [EBook #35679] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PIECES OF HATE *** + + + + +Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + + + + + + + + +PIECES OF HATE + +HEYWOOD BROUN + + + + +PIECES OF HATE + +_And Other Enthusiasms_ + +BY HEYWOOD BROUN + +[Illustration: colophon] + +GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY +PUBLISHERS 1922 NEW YORK + +COPYRIGHT, 1922 +BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY + +[Illustration: colophon] + +PIECES OF HATE. +PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA + + +TO MY FATHER +HEYWOOD C. BROUN + + + + +PREFACE + + +The trouble with prefaces is that they are partial and so we have +decided to offer instead an unbiased review of "Pieces of Hate." The +publishers have kindly furnished us advance proofs for this purpose. + +We wish we could speak with unreserved enthusiasm about this book. It +would be pleasant to make out a list of three essential volumes for +humanity and suggest the complete works of William Shakespeare, the +Bible and "Pieces of Hate," but Mr. Broun's book does not deserve any +such ranking. Speaking as a critic of books, we are not at all sure that +we care to recommend it. It seems to us that the author is honest, but +the value of that quality has been vastly overstressed in present-day +reviewing. We are inclined to say "What of it?" There would be nothing +particularly persuasive if a man should approach a poker game and say, +"Won't you let Broun in; I can assure he's honest." Why should a +recommendation which is taken for granted among common gamblers be +considered flattering when applied to a writer? + +Anyhow, it does not seem to us that Broun carries honesty to excess. +There is every indication that most of the work in "Pieces of Hate" has +been done so hurriedly that there has been no opportunity for a recount. +If it balances at any given point luck must be with him as well as +virtue. All the vices of haste are in this book of stories, critical +essays and what not. The author is not content to stalk down an idea and +salt it. Whenever he sees what he believes to be a notion he leaves his +feet and tries to bring it down with a flying tackle. Occasionally there +actually is an exciting and interesting crash of flying bodies coming +into contact. But just as often Mr. Broun misses his mark and falls on +his face. At other times he gets the object of his dive only to find +that it was not a genuine idea after all, but only a straw man, a sort +of tackling dummy set up to fool and educate novices. + +And Broun does not learn fast. Like most newspaper persons he is an +extraordinary mixture of sophistication and naïveté. At one moment he +will be found belaboring a novelist or a dramatist for sentimentality +and on the next page there will be distinct traces of treacle in his own +creative work. Seemingly, what he means when he says that he does not +like sentimentality is that he doesn't like the sentimentality of +anybody else. He would restrict the quality to the same narrow field as +charity. + +The various forms introduced into the book are a little confusing. +Seemingly there has been no plan as to the sequence of stories, essays, +dramatic criticism and the rest. Possibly the author regards this as +versatility, but here is another vastly overrated quality. We once had a +close friend who was a magician and after we had watched him take an +omelet out of his high hat, and two white rabbits, and a bowl of +goldfish, it always made us a little uneasy when he said, "Wait a +minute until I put on my hat and I'll walk home with you." + +The fear constantly lurked in our mind that he might suddenly remember, +in the middle of Times Square, that he had forgotten a trick and be +compelled to pause and take a boa-constrictor from under the sweat-band. +We suggest to Mr. Broun that he make up his mind as to just what he +intends to do and then stick to it to the exclusion of all sidelines. + +Perhaps he has promised, but we are prepared to wager nothing on him +until we are convinced that he has begun to drive for something. He may +be a young man but he is not so young that he can afford to traffic any +further with flipness under the impression that it is something just as +good as humor. And we wish he wouldn't pun. George H. Doran, the +publisher, informs us that he had to plead with Broun to make him leave +out a chapter on the ugliness of heirlooms and particularly old sofas. +Apparently the piece was written for no other purpose than to carry the +title "The Chintz of the Fathers." + +We also find Mr. Broun's pose as the professional Harvard man a little +bit trying, particularly as expressed in his essay "The Bigger the +Year." We suppose he may be expected to outgrow this in time but he has +been long enough about it. + +HEYWOOD BROUN. + + Some of these articles have appeared in the _New York World_, the + _New York Tribune_, _Vanity Fair_, _Collier's Weekly_, _The + Bookman_ and _Judge_, and acknowledgment is made to these + publications for permission to reprint. + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAPTER PAGE + + I THE NOT IMPOSSIBLE SHEIK 17 + + II JOHN ROACH STRATON 23 + + III PRIVATE OWNERSHIP OF OFFSPRING 26 + + IV G. K. C. 30 + + V ON BEING A GOD 35 + + VI CHIVALRY IS BORN 40 + + VII RUTH VS. ROTH 45 + + VIII THE BIGGER THE YEAR 49 + + IX FOR OLD NASSAU 54 + + X MR. DEMPSEY'S FIVE-FOOT SHELF 58 + + XI SPORT FOR ART'S SAKE 64 + + XII JACK THE GIANT KILLER 70 + + XIII JUDGE KRINK 76 + + XIV FRANKINCENSE AND MYRRH 79 + + XV THE EXCELSIOR MOVEMENT 82 + + XVI THE DOG STAR 86 + + XVII ALTRUISTIC POKER 90 + + XVIII THE WELL MADE REVUE 92 + + XIX AN ADJECTIVE A DAY 96 + + XX THE UNKNOWN SOLDIER 99 + + XXI A TORTOISE SHELL HOME 101 + + XXII I'D DIE FOR DEAR OLD RUTGERS 106 + + XXIII ARE EDITORS PEOPLE? 111 + + XXIV WE HAVE WITH US THIS EVENING-- 116 + + XXV THE YOUNG PESSIMISTS 124 + + XXVI GLASS SLIPPERS BY THE GROSS 180 + + XXVII A MODERN BEANSTALK 134 + + XXVIII VOLSTEAD AND CONVERSATION 137 + + XXIX LIFE, THE COPY CAT 143 + + XXX THE ORTHODOX CHAMPION 149 + + XXXI WITH A STEIN ON THE TABLE 153 + + XXXII ART FOR ARGUMENT'S SAKE 159 + + XXXIII NO RAHS FOR RAY 165 + + XXXIV "AT ABOY!" 170 + + XXXV HOW TO WIN MONEY AT THE RACES 174 + + XXXVI ONE TOUCH OF SLAPSTICK 178 + + XXXVII DANGER SIGNALS FOR READERS 183 + +XXXVIII ADVENTURE MADE PAINLESS 188 + + XXXIX THE TALL VILLA 197 + + XL PROFESSOR GEORGE PIERCE BAKER 202 + + XLI WHAT SHAKESPEARE MISSED 207 + + XLII CENSORING THE CENSOR 222 + + + + +PIECES OF HATE + + + + +I + +THE NOT IMPOSSIBLE SHEIK + + +Women must be peculiar people, if that. We have just finished "The +Sheik," which is described on the jacket as possessing "ALL the intense +passion and tender feeling of the most vivid love stories, almost brutal +in its revelations." + +Naturally, we read it. The author is English and named E. M. Hull. The +publishers expand the "E" to Ethel, but we have a theory of our own. At +any rate the novelist displays an extraordinary knowledge of feminine +psychology. It is profound. It is also a little disturbing because it +sounds so silly. After all, whether peculiar or not women are round +about us almost everywhere, and we must make the best of them. +Accordingly, it terrifies us to learn that if by any chance whatsoever +we happen to hit one of them and knock her down she will become devoted +to us forever. The man who knows this will think twice before he strikes +a woman no matter what the provocation. He will be inclined to count ten +before letting a blow go instead of after. Miss Hull's book deserves the +widest possible circulation because of its persuasive propaganda for +forebearance on the part of men in their dealings with women. + +Seemingly, there are no exceptions to the rules about women laid down by +Miss Hull. To state her theory concisely, the quickest way to reach a +woman's heart is a right hook to the jaw. To take a specific instance, +there was Miss Diana Mayo. She seemed an exception to the rule if ever a +woman did. "My God, Diana! Beauty like yours drives a man mad!" said +Arbuthnot, the young British lieutenant, in the moonlight at Biskra. +More than that, "He whispered ardently, his hands closing over the slim +ones lying in her lap." Those were her own. + +Still, Diana was no miss to take a hint. With a strength that seemed +impossible for their slimness she disengaged her hands from his grasp. +"Please stop. I am sorry. We have been good friends, and it has never +occurred to me that there could be anything beyond that. I never thought +that you might love me. I never thought of you in that way at all. I +don't understand it. When God made me he omitted to give me a heart. I +have never loved any one in my life." + +That was before Miss Diana Mayo went into the desert and met the Sheik +Ahmed Ben Hassan. The meeting was unconventional. Ahmed sacked the +caravan and kidnapped Diana, seizing her off her horse's back at full +gallop. "His movement had been so quick she was unprepared and unable to +resist. For a moment she was stunned, then her senses came back to her +and she struggled wildly, but stifled in the thick folds of the Arab's +robes, against which her face was crushed, and held in a grip that +seemed to be slowly suffocating her, her struggles were futile. The +hard, muscular arm around her hurt her acutely, her ribs seemed to be +almost breaking under its weight and strength, it was nearly impossible +to breathe with the close contact of his body." + +But Diana did not love him yet. She seems to have been less susceptible +than most girls. Even when "her whole body was one agonized ache from +the brutal hands" she persisted in not caring for Ahmed Ben Hassan. It +almost seemed as if she had taken a dislike to the man. Up to this time +she had not learned to make allowances for him. It was much later than +this that "She looked at the marks of his fingers on the delicate skin +with a twist of the lips, then shut her eyes with a little gasp and hid +her bruised arm hastily, her mouth quivering. But she did not blame him; +she had brought it on herself; she knew his mood and he did not know his +own strength." + +Diana's realization that she loved the Sheik Ahmed Ben Hassan and had +loved him for some time came under sudden and dramatic circumstances. +She was running away from him at the time and he was riding after her. +Standing up in the stirrups, the Sheik shot the horse from under her and +"Diana was flung far forward and landed on some soft sand." But even yet +her blindness to the whispering of love persisted. She thought she hated +Ahmed, but dawn was about to break in her starved heart. "He caught her +wrist and flung her out of the way," yet it was not until he had lifted +her up on the saddle in front of him, using his favorite hold--a half +nelson and body scissors--that the punishing nature of the familiar grip +roused Diana to an understanding of her great good fortune. "Quite +suddenly she knew--knew that she loved him, that she had loved him for a +long time, even when she thought that she hated him and when she had +fled from him. She knew now why his face had haunted her in the little +oasis at midday--that it was love calling to her sub-consciously." And +all the time poor, foolish Diana had imagined that it was arnica which +she wanted. + +Even after Ben Hassan had succeeded in impressing Diana with his +affection, we feared that the story would not end happily. While riding +some miles away from their own carefully restricted oasis Diana was +captured by another Arab chief named Ibraheim Omair. It seemed to us +that he was in his way just as persuasive a wooer as Ben Hassan. We +read, "He forced her to her knees, and, with his hand twined brutally in +her curls, thrust her head back," and later, "She realized that he was +squeezing the life out of her." Worst of all from the point of view of a +Ben Hassan partisan (and by this time we too had learned to love him) +was the moment in which Omair dashed his hand against Diana's mouth, for +the author records that "She caught it in her teeth, biting it to the +bone." We feared, then, that Diana's heart was turning to this new and +wondrously rowdy Arab. Already it was quite evident that she was not +indifferent to him. Fortunately Ahmed came in time to shoot Omair before +Diana's Unconscious could flash to her any realization of a new love. + +And the book does end happily, even more happily than anybody has a +right to expect. Ahmed is badly wounded but only in the head, and +recovers without any impairment of his punching power. The greatest +surprise of all is reserved for the last chapter, when Diana and the +reader learn that Ben isn't really an Arab at all, but the eldest son of +Lord Glencaryll, and of Lady Glencaryll, too, for that matter. It seems +Lord Glencaryll drank excessively, although his title was one of the +oldest in England. Lady Glencaryll left him on account of his alcoholism +and went to the Sahara desert for rest and contrast. A courtly sheik +gave her shelter in his oasis. Here her son was born, and when he heard +about his father's disgraceful conduct he turned Arab and stayed that +way. Of course, if he had intended nothing more than a protest against +overindulgence in alcoholic liquors he could have turned American. We +suppose such a device would not have seemed altogether plausible. No +Englishman could pass for an American. Nor can we say that we are +altogether satisfied with the ending even as it stands. For all we know +E. M. Hull may decide to take a shot at Uncle Tom's Cabin and add a +chapter revealing the fact that Uncle Tom was not actually a colored man +but the child of a couple of Caucasians who had happened to get a little +sunburned. We are not even sure that E. M. Hull is a woman. Publishers +do get fooled about such things. According to our theory, the E stands +for Egbert. He is, we think, at least five feet four inches tall and +lives in Bloomsbury, in very respectable bachelor diggings. He has never +been to the desert or near it, but if "The Sheik" continues to run +through new editions he plans to take a jaunt to the East. He thinks it +might help his hay fever. + + + + +II + +JOHN ROACH STRATON + + +In the course of his Sabbath day talk at Calvary Baptist Church the +other day the Rev. Dr. John Roach Straton spoke of "miserable Charlie +Chaplin," or words to that effect. This seems to us an expression of the +more or less natural antipathy of a man who regards life trivially for a +serious artist. It is the venom of the clown confronted by the comedian. + +Dr. Straton is, of course, an utter materialist. He is concerned with +such temporal and evanescent things as hellfire, and a heaven which he +has pictured in one of his sermons as a sort of glorified Coney Island. +Moreover, he has created a deity in his own image and has presented the +invisible king as merely a somewhat more mannerly John Roach Straton. +And while Dr. Straton has been thus engaged in debasing the ideals of +mankind, Charlie Chaplin has brought to great masses of people some +glint of things which are eternal. He has managed to show us beauty and, +better than that, he has contrived to put us at ease in this presence. +We belong to a Nation which is timorous of beauty, but Charlie has +managed to soothe our fears by proving to us that it may also be merry. + +While Straton has been talking about jazz, debauchery, modesty, +vengeance and other ugly things, Chaplin has given us the story of a +child. "The Kid" captured a little of that curiously exalted something +which belongs to paternity. All spiritual things must have in them a +childlike quality. The belief in immortality rests not very much on the +hope of going on. Few of us want to do that, but we would like very much +to begin again. + +Naturally, we are under no delusions as to the innate goodness even of +very small children. They are bad a great deal of the time, but before +it has been knocked out of them they see no limit to the potentialities +of the human will. Theirs is the faith to move mountains, because they +do not yet know the fearful heft of them. The world is merely a rather +big sandpile and much may be done to it with a tin pail and shovel. We +would capture such confidence again. + +As a matter of fact, a great deal could be done with a pail and shovel. +We do not try because we have lost our nerve. Nobody will ever get it +back again by listening to Dr. Straton. He seems solely intent upon +detailing the limitations and the frailties of man. We think he has +outgrown his soul a little. He has sold his birthright for a mess of +potterism. + +But Charlie Chaplin moves through the world which he pictures on the +screen like a mischievous child. He confounds all the gross villains who +come against him. His smile is a token and a symbol that man is too +merry to die utterly. Fearful things menace us, but they will flee +before the audacious one who has the fervor to draw back his foot and +let it fly. + +Of course, we are not advocating any suppression of Dr. Straton by +censorship. We regard him and his sermons as a bad influence. But after +all, the man or woman who strays into Dr. Straton's church knows what to +expect. In justice to the clergyman it must be said that he has never +made any secret of his methods or his message. There is no deception. +Sentimentally, we think it rather shocking that these talks of his +should occur on Sunday. There really ought to be one day of the week +upon which the citizens of New York turn away from frivolity. And still +we do not urge that the Sunday Law be amended to include the +performances of John Roach Straton. He is not one whit worse than some +of the sensational Sunday magazines. + + + + +III + +PRIVATE OWNERSHIP OF OFFSPRING + + +Fannie Hurst gurgles with joy over the fact that her heroine in "Star +Dust" is able to look over the whole tray of babies which is brought to +her in the hospital and pick out her own. Miss Hurst attributes Lily's +feat to "her mother instinct." A friend of ours, more practically minded +than the novelist, suggests that she might have been aided by the fact +that hospitals invariably place an identification tag around the neck of +each child. For our part we have never been able to understand the fear +of some parents about babies getting mixed up in the hospital. What +difference does it make so long as you get a good one? Another's may be +better than your own and Lily, with a whole tray from which to choose, +should not have made an instinctive clutch immediately for her own. It +would have been rational for the lady in the story to have looked at +them all before coming to any decision. + +Of course, to tell the truth, there isn't much choice in the little +ones. They need much more than necklaces with names on them to be +persons. There really ought to be some system whereby small children +after being born could be kept in the shop for a considerable period, +like puppies, and not turned over to parents or guardians until in a +condition more disciplined than usual. None of them amounts to much +during the first year. We can't see, for the life of us, why your own +should be any more interesting or precious to you during this time than +the child of anybody else. + +After two, of course, they are persons, but a parent must have a good +deal of imagination if he can see much of himself in a child. Oh, yes, a +nose or the eyes or the color of the hair or something like that, but +the world is full of snub noses and brown eyes. To us it never seemed +much more than a coincidence. And if it were something more, what of it? +How can a man work up any inspiring sentimental gratification over the +fact that after he is gone his nose will persist in the world? The hope +of immortality through offspring offers no solace to us. The joys of +being an ancestor are exaggerated. + +Mind you, we do not mean for a moment to cry down the undeniable +pleasure which arises from the privilege of being associated with a +child of more than two years of age. For a person in rugged health who +is not particularly dressed up and does not want to write a letter or +read the newspaper, we can imagine few diversions more enjoyable than to +have a child turned loose upon him. His own, if you wish, but only in +the sense that it is the one to which he has become accustomed. The +sense of paternity has nothing on earth to do with the fun. Only a +person extraordinarily satisfied with himself can derive pleasure if +this child in his house is a little person who gives him back nothing +but a reflection. You want a new story and not the old one, which wasn't +particularly satisfactory in the first place. We want Heywood Broun, +3rd, to start from scratch without having to lug along anything we have +left him. As a matter of fact, we like him just as well as if he were no +relation at all, because he seems to be a person quite different from +what we might have expected. When he says he doesn't want to take a bath +we feel abashed and wish we had been a cleaner child, but for the most +part we find him leading his own life altogether. When he bends over the +Victrola and plays the Siegfried Funeral March over and over again we +have no feeling of guilt. We know we can't be blamed for that. He never +got it from us. + +And again, he is a person utterly strange, and therefore twice as +interesting, when we find him standing up to people, us for instance, +and saying that he won't do this or that because he doesn't want to. +Much sharper than a serpent's tooth is the pleasure of an abject parent +who finds himself the father of a stubborn child. If the people from the +hospital should suddenly call up to-morrow and say, "We find we've made +a mistake. We sent the wrong child to you three years ago, but now we +can exchange him and rectify everything," we would say, "No, this one's +been around quite a while now and is giving approximate satisfaction, +and if you don't mind you can keep the real one." + +Plays and novels which picture meetings between fathers and sons parted +from birth or before have always seemed singularly unconvincing to us. +The old man says "My boy! My boy!" and weeps, and the young man looks +him warmly in the eye and says, "There, there." Not a bit like it is our +guess. If we had never seen H, 3rd, and had then met him at the end of +twenty years, we wouldn't be particularly interested. Strangers always +embarrass us. It would not even shock us much to find that they had sent +him to Yale or that he brushed his hair straight back or wore spats. +There are to us no ties at all just in being a father. A son is +distinctly an acquired taste. It's the practice of parenthood that makes +you feel that, after all, there may be something in it. And anybody's +child will do for practice. + + + + +IV + +G. K. C. + + +The ship news man said that Gilbert K. Chesterton was staying at the +Commodore and the telephone girl said he wasn't, but we'd trust even a +ship news man before a hotel central and so we persisted. + +In fact, we almost persuaded her. + +"Maybe he's connected with one of the automobile companies that are +exhibiting here," she suggested, helpfully. For a moment we wondered if +by any chance the hotel authorities had made an error and placed him in +the lobby with the ten-ton trucks. It seemed too fantastic. + +"He's not with any automobile company," we said severely. "Didn't you +ever hear of 'The Man Who Was Thursday'?" + +"He may have been here Thursday, but he's not registered now," she +answered with some assurance. We didn't seem to be getting on. "It's a +book," we shouted. "He wrote it." + +"Not in this hotel," said central with an air of finality and rang off +before we could try her out on "Man Alive" or "The Ball and the Cross." +Still, it turned out eventually that she was right for it was the +Biltmore which at last acknowledged Mr. Chesterton somewhat reluctantly +after we had spelled out the name. + +"Not in his room, but somewhere about the hotel," was the message. + +"You can find him," said the city editor with confidence. "Just take +this picture with you. He's sort of fat and he speaks with an English +accent." + +We had a more helpful description than that in our mind, because we +remembered Chesterton's answer when a sweet girl admirer once remarked, +"It must be wonderful to walk along the streets when everybody knows who +you are." + +"Yes," said Chesterton; "and if they don't know they ask." + +He wasn't in the bar, but we found him in the smoking room. He was +giving somebody an interview without much enthusiasm. It seemed to be +the last round. Chesterton was beginning to droop. Every paradox, we +feared, had been hammered out of him. He rose a little wearily and +started for the elevator. We chased him. At last we had the satisfaction +of finding some one we could outrun. He paused, and now we know the look +which the Wedding Guest must have given to the Ancient Mariner. + +"It's for the New York _Tribune_," we said. + +"How about next week?" suggested Mr. Chesterton. + +"It's a daily newspaper," we remonstrated. "You know--Grantland Rice and +The Conning Tower and When a Feller Needs a Friend." + +Something in the title of the Briggs series must have touched him. +"To-morrow, perhaps," he answered. Feeling that the mountain was about +to come through we stood our ground like another Mahomet. Better than +that we rose to one of the few superb moments in our life. Looking at +Mr. Chesterton coldly we said slowly, "It must be now or never." And we +used a gesture. The nature of it escapes us, but it was something +appropriate. Later we wondered just what reply would have been possible +if he had answered, "Never." After the danger had passed we realized +that we had been holding up the visitor with an empty gun. It must have +been our manner which awed him and he stopped walking and almost turned +around. + +"The press men have been here since two o'clock," he complained more in +sorrow than in anger. "What is it you want to know?" + +At that stage of the interview the advantage passed to him. The whole +world lay before us. Dimly we could hear the problems of a great and +unhappy universe flapping in our ears and urging us with unintelligible, +hoarse caws to present their cases for solution. And still we stood +there unable to think of a single thing which we wanted to know. + +Mostly we had read Chesterton on rum and religion, but there were too +many people passing to give the proper atmosphere for any such +confidential questions. Moreover, if he should question us in turn we +realized that we would be unable to give him any information as to when +to boil and when to skim, nor did we feel sufficiently well disposed to +let him in on the name of the drug store where you say "I'm a patient of +Dr. Brown's" and are forthwith allowed to buy gin. + +All the questions we had ever asked anybody in our life passed rapidly +before us. "What do you think of our tall buildings?" "Have you ever +thought of playing Hamlet?" "Why are you called the woman with the most +beautiful legs in Paris?" We remembered that the last had seemed silly +even when we first used it on Mistinguett. On second thought we had told +the interpreter to let it drop because the photographers were anxious to +begin. There seemed to be even less sense to it now. Indeed none of our +familiar inquiries struck us as appropriate. + +"What American authors do you read?" we ventured timidly, and added +"living ones" hoping to get something about "Main Street" for +Wednesday's book column. + +"I don't read any," he answered. + +That seemed to us a possible handicap in pursuing that line of inquiry. + +"I don't read any living English authors, either," Mr. Chesterton added +hastily, as if he feared that he had trod upon our patriotism. "Nothing +but dead authors and detective stories." + +That we had expected. In the march up to the heights of fame there comes +a spot close to the summit in which man reads "nothing but detective +stories." It is the Antæan touch which distinguishes all Olympians. As +you remember, Antæus was the demigod who had to touch the earth every +once and so often to preserve his immortality. Probably he did it by +reading a good murder story. + +"Can you tell me what 'Mary Rose' is all about?" we suggested, still +fumbling for a literary theme. + +"I haven't seen 'Mary Rose,'" said Mr. Chesterton, although he did go on +to tell us that Barrie had done several excellent plays. Probably there +was a long pause then while we tried to think up something provocative +about the Irish question. + +"If you really will excuse me, I must go to my room," he burst out. "The +press men have been here ever since two o'clock." + +This, of course, is no land in which to stand between a man and his +room, where heaven knows what solace may await the distinguished visitor +who has been spending two and a half hours with the press men. We +stepped aside willingly enough. Still, we must confess a slight +disappointment in Gilbert K. Chesterton. He's not as fat as we had +heard. + + + + +V + +ON BEING A GOD + + +We have found a way to feel very close kin to the high gods. The notion +that we too leaned out from the gold bar of heaven came to us suddenly +as we sat in the right field bleachers of one of the big theaters which +provide a combination bill of vaudeville and motion pictures. The +process of deification occurred during the vaudeville portion of the +program. + +The stage was several miles away. We could see perfectly and hear +nothing as it was said. Curious little, insect-like people moved about +the stage aimlessly. And yet there was every evidence that they took +themselves seriously. You would be surprised if you watched ants +conducting a performance and calling for light cues and such things. It +would puzzle you to know why one particular ant took care to provide +himself with a flood of red and another just as arbitrarily chose green. + +Still, these were not ants but potentially men and women. They had +names--Kerrigan and Vane, the Kaufman Trio, Miss Minstrel Co. and many +others. From where we sat they were insects. It seemed to us that it +would be no trouble at all to flip the three strong men and the pony +ballet into oblivion with one finger. The little finger would be the +most suitable. + +And there were times when we wanted to do it. Only, the feeling that we +were too new a god to impose a doom restrained us. No divine patience +was in us, but we felt that if we could wait a while it might come. The +agitated atoms annoyed us. The audacity of "pony ballet" was almost +insufferable. Why, as in Gulliver's land, the biggest of the strong men +towered above the smallest of the ballet girls by at least the thickness +of a fingernail. And these performing ants were forever working to +entertain. They ran on and off the stage without apparent reason and +waved their antennæ about furiously. Two of the ants would stand close +together as if in conversation, and every now and then one of them would +hit the other brutally in the face. + +We did not know why and our sympathies went entirely to the one who was +struck. It was difficult not to interfere. We rather think that some of +the seemingly extraordinary judgments of the high gods between mortals +must be explained on the ground of a somewhat similar imperfect +knowledge. They too see us, but they cannot hear. Time is required for +sound to reach Olympus. When we get into warfare they observe only the +carnage and the turmoil. The preliminary explanations arrive several +years after the peace treaties have been signed, and then they sound +silly and entirely irrelevant. + +Accordingly, the high gods are rather loath to interfere in the wars of +earth. They are too far removed to understand causes, and even +trumpet-like shouts about national honor merely amble up to their ears +through long lanes of retarding ether. Indeed, the period of transit is +so long that national honor invariably arrives at Olympus in poor +condition. Only when strictly fresh is it in the least inspiring. Little +old last century's national honor is quite unpalatable. It is food +neither for gods nor men. + +It was just as well that we waited before taking blind vengeance on the +vaudeville insects, because half an hour or so after the blows were +struck by the seemingly aggressive ant the conversation which preceded +the violence began to drift back to us. It came to our ears during the +turn of the strong men and created a rather uncanny effect. At first we +were puzzled because we had never known strong men to exchange any words +at all except the traditional "alleyup." Almost immediately we realized +that it was merely the tardiness of sound waves which caused the delay +of the dialogue in reaching us in our bleacher seat. + +Fortunately, in spite of our illusion of omnipotence, the distance from +the stage was not truly Olympian. The jokes came in time to be +appreciated. It seems that one of the ants, whom we shall immediately +christen A, told his friend and companion, B for convenience, that he +was taking two ladies to dinner and that he would like to have B in the +party, but that he, A, did not have sufficient funds to defray any +expense which he might incur. B admitted promptly that he himself had +nothing. Accordingly, A suggested a scheme for sociability's sake. He +urged B to come, but impressed upon him that when asked as to what he +wished to eat or drink he should reply, "I don't care for anything." + +In order to guard against a slip-up the friendly ants rehearsed the +scene in advance. It ran something like this: + +A--August! August! + +B--You're a little wrong on your months. This is January. + +A (punching him)--You fool! August is the name of the waiter. + +The delay which retarded the progress of this joke to our ears impaired +its effectiveness a little. The rest was more sprightly. + +A--August, bring some chicken en casserole and combination salad for +myself and the two ladies. Oh, I've forgotten my friend. What will you +have? + +B--Bring me some pigs' knuckles. + +At this point A hit B for the second time and again called him a fool. + +A--Why did you say, "Bring me some pigs' knuckles?" + +B--Why did you ask me so pretty? + +Thereupon they rehearsed the situation again. + +A--Oh, I've forgotten my friend. Won't you have something? You must join +us. + +B--Sure, bring me a dish of ham and eggs. + +Again blows were struck and again A inquired ferociously as to the cause +of the slip-up. + +A--What made you say, "Bring me a dish of ham and eggs?" + +B--Well, why did you go and coax me? + +Earlier in the evening we had observed that other blows were struck and +there must have been further dialogue to go with them, but we could not +wait for it to arrive. We rather hoped that the jokes would follow us +home, but they must have become lost on the way. + +Perhaps you don't think there was much sense to this talk anyway. + +Maybe the real gods on high Olympus feel the same way about us when our +words limp home. + + + + +VI + +CHIVALRY IS BORN + + +Every now and then we hear parents commenting on the fearful things +which motion pictures may do to the minds of children. They seem to +think that a little child is full of sweetness and of light. We had the +same notion until we had a chance to listen intently to the prattle of a +three-year-old. Now we know that no picture can possibly outdo him in +his own fictionized frightfulness. + +Of course, we had heard testimony to this effect from Freudians, but we +had supposed that all these horrible blood lusts and such like were +suppressed. Unfortunately, our own son is without reticence. We have a +notion that each individual goes through approximately the same stages +of progress as the race. Heywood Broun, 3d, seemed not yet quite as high +as the cavemen in his concepts. For the last few months he has been +harping continuously, and chiefly during meal times, about cutting off +people's noses and gouging out eyes. In his range of speculative +depredations he has invariably seemed liberal. + +There seemed to us, then, no reason to fear that new notions of horror +would come to Heywood Broun, 3d, from any of the pictures being licensed +at present in this State. As a matter of fact, he has received from the +films his first notions of chivalry. Of course, we are not at all sure +that this is beneficial. We like his sentimentalism a little worse than +his sadism. + +After seeing "Tol'able David," for instance, we had a long argument. +Since our experience with motion pictures is longer than his we often +feel reasonably certain that our interpretation of the happenings is +correct and we do not hesitate to contradict H. 3d, although he is so +positive that sometimes our confidence is shaken. We knew that he was +all wrong about "Tol'able David" because it was quite evident that he +had become mixed in his mind concerning the hero and the villain. He +kept insisting that David was a bad man because he fought. Pacifism has +always seemed to us an appealing philosophy, but it came with bad grace +from such a swashbuckling disciple of frightfulness as H. 3d. + +However, we did not develop that line of reasoning but contended that +David had to fight in order to protect himself. Woodie considered this +for a while and then answered triumphantly, "David hit a woman." + +Our disgust was unbounded. Film life had seared the child after all. +Actually, it was not David who hit the woman but the villainous Luke +Hatburn, the terrible mountaineer. That error in observation was not the +cause of our worry. The thing that bothered us was that here was a young +individual, not yet four years of age, who was already beginning to talk +in terms of "the weaker vessel" and all the other phrases of a romantic +school we believed to be dying. It could not have shocked us more if he +had said, "Woman's place is in the home." + +"David hit a woman," he piped again, seeming to sense our consternation. +"What of it?" we cried, but there was no bullying him out of his point +of view. The fault belongs entirely to the motion pictures. H. 3d cannot +truthfully say that he has had the slightest hint from us as to any sex +inferiority of women. By word and deed we have tried to set him quite +the opposite example. We have never allowed him to detect us for an +instant in any chivalrous act or piece of partial sex politeness. Toasts +such as "The ladies, God bless 'em" are not drunk in our house, nor has +Woodie ever heard "Shall we join the ladies," "the fair sex," "the +weaker sex," or any other piece of patronizing masculine poppycock. +Susan B. Anthony's picture hangs in his bedroom side by side with +Abraham Lincoln and the big elephant. He has led a sheltered life and +has never been allowed to play with nice children. + +But, somehow or other, chivalry and romanticism creep into each life +even through barred windows. We have no intention of being too hard upon +the motion pictures. Something else would have introduced it. These +phases belong in the development of the race. H. 3d must serve his time +as gentle knight just as he did his stint in the rôle of sadistic +caveman. Presently, we fear, he will get to the crusades and we shall +suffer during a period in which he will try to improve our manners. +History will then be our only consolation. We shall try to bear up +secure in the knowledge that the dark ages are still ahead of him. + +We hoped that the motion pictures might be used as an antidote against +the damage which they had done. We took H. 3d to see Nazimova in "A +Doll's House." There was a chance, we thought, that he might be moved by +the eloquent presentation of the fact that before all else a woman is a +human being and just as eligible to be hit as anybody else. We read him +the caption embodying Nora's defiance, but at the moment it flashed upon +the screen he had crawled under his seat to pick up an old program and +the words seemed to have no effect. Indeed when Nora went out into the +night, slamming the door behind her, he merely hazarded that she was +"going to Mr. Butler's." Mr. Butler happens to be our grocer. + +The misapprehension was not the fault of Nazimova. She flung herself out +of the house magnificently, but Heywood Broun, 3d, insisted on believing +that she had gone around the corner for a dozen eggs. + +In discussing the picture later, we found that he had quite missed the +point of Mr. Ibsen's play. Of Nora, the human being, he remembered +nothing. It was only Nora, the mother, who had impressed him. All he +could tell us about the great and stimulating play was that the lady had +crawled on the floor with her little boy and her little girl. And yet it +seems to us that Ibsen has told his story with singular clarity. + +D'Artagnan Woodie likes very much. He is fond of recalling to our mind +the fact that D'Artagnan "walked on the roof in his nightshirt." H. 3d +is not allowed on the roof nor is he permitted to wander about in his +nightshirt. + +Perhaps the child's introduction to the films has been somewhat too +haphazard. As we remember, the first picture which we saw together was +called "Is Life Worth Living?" The worst of it is that circumstances +made it necessary for us to leave before the end and so neither of us +found out the answer. + + + + +VII + +RUTH VS. ROTH + + +We picked up "Who's Who in America" yesterday to get some vital +statistics about Babe Ruth, and found to our surprise that he was not in +the book. Even as George Herman Ruth there is no mention of him. The +nearest name we could find was: "Roth, Filibert, forestry expert; b. +Wurttemberg, Germany, April 20, 1858; s. Paul Raphael and Amalie (Volz) +R., early edn. in Württemberg----" + +There is in our heart not an atom of malice against Prof. Roth (since +September, 1903, he has been "prof. forestry, U. Mich."), and yet we +question the justice of his admission to a list of national celebrities +while Ruth stands without. We know, of course, that Prof. Roth is the +author of "Forest Conditions in Wisconsin" and of "The Uses of Wood," +but we wonder whether he has been able to describe in words uses of wood +more sensational and vital than those which Ruth has shown in deeds. +Hereby we challenge the editor of "Who's Who in America" to debate the +affirmative side of the question: Resolved, That Prof. Roth's volume +called "Timber Physics" has exerted a more profound influence in the +life of America than Babe Ruth's 1921 home-run record. + +The question is, of course, merely a continuation of the ancient +controversy as to the relative importance of the theorist and the +practitioner; should history prefer in honor the man who first developed +the hypothesis that the world was round or the other who went out and +circumnavigated it? What do we owe to Ben Franklin and what to the +lightning? Shall we celebrate Newton or the apple? + +Personally, our sympathies go out to the performer rather than the +fellow in the study or the laboratory. Many scientists staked their +reputations on the fact that the world was round before Magellan set +sail in the _Vittoria_. He did not lack written assurances that there +was no truth in the old tale of a flat earth with dragons and monsters +lurking just beyond the edges. + +But suppose, in spite of all this, Magellan had gone on sailing, sailing +until his ship did topple over into the void of dragons and big snakes. +The professors would have been abashed. Undoubtedly they would have +tried to laugh the misfortune off, and they might even have been good +enough sports to say, "That's a fine joke on us." But at worst they +could lose nothing but their reputations, which can be made over again. +Magellan would not live to profit by his experience. Being one of those +foreigners, he had no sense of humor, and if the dragons bit him as he +fell, it is ten to one he could not even manage to smile. + +By this time we have rather traveled away from Roth's "Timber Physics" +and Ruth's home-run record, but we hope that you get what we mean. +Without knowing the exact nature of "Timber Physics," we assume that the +professor discusses the most efficient manner in which to bring about +the greatest possible impact between any wooden substance and a given +object. But mind you, he merely discusses it. If the professor chances +to be wrong, even if he is wrong three times, nobody in the classroom is +likely to poke a sudden finger high in the air and shout, "You're out!" + +The professor remains at bat during good behavior. He is not subject to +any such sudden vicissitudes as Ruth. Moreover, timber physics is to Mr. +Roth a matter of cool and calm deliberation. No adversary seeks to fool +him with speed or spitballs. "Hit it out" never rings in his ears. And +after all, just what difference does it make if Mr. Roth errs in his +timber physics? It merely means that a certain number of students leave +Michigan knowing a little less than they should--and nobody expects +anything else from students. + +On the other hand, a miscalculation by Ruth in the uses of wood affects +much more important matters. A strike-out on his part may bring about +complete tragedy and the direst misfortune. There have been occasions, +and we fear that there will still be occasions, when Ruth's bat will be +the only thing which stands between us and the loss of the American +League pennant. In times like these who cares about "Forest Conditions +in Wisconsin"? + +Coming to the final summing up for our side of the question at debate, +we shall try to lift the whole affair above any mere Ruth versus Roth +issue. It will be our endeavor to show that not only has Babe Ruth been +a profound interest and influence in America, but that on the whole he +has been a power for progress. Ruth has helped to make life a little +more gallant. He has set before us an example of a man who tries each +minute for all or nothing. When he is not knocking home runs he is +generally striking out, and isn't there more glory in fanning in an +effort to put the ball over the fence than in prolonging a little life +by playing safe? + + + + +VIII + +THE BIGGER THE YEAR + + +As soon as we heard that "The Big Year--A College Story" by Meade +Minnigerode was about Yale we knew that we just had to read it. Tales of +travel and curious native customs have always fascinated us. According +to Mr. Minnigerode the men of Yale walk about their campus in big blue +sweaters with "Y's" on them, smoking pipes and singing college songs +under the windows of one another. The seniors, he informs us, come out +on summer afternoons on roller skates. + +Of course, we are disposed to believe that Mr. Minnigerode, like all +travelers in strange lands, is prone to color things a little more +highly than exact accuracy would sanction. We felt this particularly +when he began to write about Yale football. There was, for instance, +Curly Corliss, the captain of the eleven, who is described as "starting +off after a punt to tear back through a broken field, thirty and forty +yards at a clip, tackling an opposing back with a deadliness which was +final--never hurt, always smiling--a blond head of curly hair (he never +wore a headguard) flashing in and out across the field, the hands +clapping together, the plaintive voice calling 'All right, all right, +give me the ball!' when a game was going badly, and then carrying it +alone to touchdown after touchdown." + +Although we have seen all of Yale's recent big games we recognized none +of that except "the plaintive voice" and even that would have been more +familiar if it had been used to say "Moral victory!" We waited to find +Mr. Minnigerode explaining that of course he was referring to the annual +contest with the Springfield Training School, but he did no such thing +and went straight ahead with the pretense that football at Yale is +romantic. To be sure, he attempts to justify this attitude by letting us +see a good deal of the gridiron doings through the eyes of a bull +terrier who could not well be expected to be captious. Champ, named +after the Yale chess team, came by accident to the field just as Curly +Corliss was off on one of his long runs. Yes, it was a game against the +scrubs. "Some one came tearing along and lunged at Curly as he went by, +apparently trying to grab him about the legs. Champ cast all caution to +the winds. Interfere with Curly, would he? Well, Champ guessed not! Like +an arrow from a bow Champ hurled himself through the air and fastened +his jaws firmly in the seat of the offender's pants, in a desperate +effort to prevent him from further molesting Curly." + +Champ was immediately adopted by the team as mascot. It seems to us he +deserved more, for this was the first decent piece of interference seen +on Yale field in years. The associate mascot was Jimmy, a little +newsboy, who also took football at New Haven seriously. His romanticism, +like that of Champ, was understandable. Hadn't Curly Corliss once saved +his life? We need not tell you that he had. "Jimmy," as Mr. Minnigerode +tells the story, "started to run across the street, without noticing the +street-car lumbering around the corner... and then before he knew it +Jimmy tripped and fell, and the car was almost on top of him grinding +its brakes. Jimmy never knew exactly what happened in the next few +seconds, but he heard people shouting, and then something struck him and +he was dragged violently away by the seat of the pants. When he could +think connectedly again he was sitting on the curb considerably +battered--and Curly was sitting beside him, with his trousers torn, +nursing a badly cut hand." + +We remember there was an incident like that in Cambridge once, only the +man who rescued the newsboy was not the football captain but a +substitute on the second team. We have forgotten his name. Unlike +Corliss of Yale, the Harvard man did not bother to pick up the newsboy. +Instead he seized the street car and threw it for a loss. + + * * * * * + +The first half was over and Princeton led by a score of 10 to 0. Things +looked blue for Yale. Neither mascot was on hand. Yale was trying to win +with nothing but students. Where was little Jimmy the newsboy? If you +must know he was in the hospital, for he had been run over again. The +boy could not seem to break himself of the habit. Unfortunately he had +picked out the afternoon of the Princeton game when all the Yale players +were much too busy trying to stop Tigers to have any time to interfere +with traffic. It was only an automobile this time and Jimmy escaped with +a mere gash over one eye. Champ, the bull terrier who caused the mixup, +was uninjured. "I'm all right now," Jimmy told the doctor, "honest I +am--can I go--I gotta take Champ out to the game--he's the mascot and +they can't win without him--please, Mister, let me go--I guess they need +us bad out there." + +Apparently the crying need of Yale football is not so much a coaching +system as a good leash to keep the mascots from getting run over. Champ +and Jimmy rushed into the locker room just as the big Blue team was +about to trot out for the second half. After that there was nothing to +it. Yale won by a score of 12 to 10. "Curly clapped his hands together," +writes Mr. Minnigerode in describing the rally, "and kept calling out +'Never mind the signal! Give me the ball' in his plaintive voice"---- + +This sounds more like Yale football than anything else in the book. +However, it sufficed. Curly made two touchdowns and all the Yale men +went to Mory's and sang "Curly Corliss, Curly Corliss, he will leave old +Harvard scoreless." It is said that a legend is now gaining ground in +New Haven that Yale will not defeat Harvard again until it is led by +some other captain whose name rhymes with "scoreless." The current +captain of the Elis is named Jordan. The only thing that rhymes with is +"scored on." + +Still, as Professor Billy Phelps has taught his students to say, +football isn't everything. Perhaps something of Sparta has gone from +Yale, for a few years or forever, but just look at the Yale poets and +novelists all over the place. There is a new kindliness at New Haven. +Take for instance the testimony of the same "Big Year" when it describes +a touching little scene between Curly Corliss, the captain of the Yale +football team, and his room mate as they are revealed in the act of +retiring for the night: + +"'Angel!' + +"'Yeah,' very sleepily. + +"'They all seem to get over it!' + +"'Over what?' + +"'The fellows who have graduated,' Curly explained. 'I guess they all +feel pretty poor when they leave, but they get over it right away. It's +just like changing into a new suit, I expect.' + +"'Yeah, I guess so'.... + +"'Well, goo' night, little feller'.... + +"'Goo' night, Teddy.'" + +But we do wish Mr. Minnigerode had been a little more explicit and had +told us who tucked them in. + + + + +IX + +FOR OLD NASSAU + + +Wadsworth Camp, we find, has done almost as much for Princeton in his +novel, "The Guarded Heights," as Meade Minnigerode has accomplished for +Yale in "The Big Year." + +George Morton might never have gone to any college if it had not been +for Sylvia Planter. He was enamored of her from the very beginning when +old Planter engaged him to accompany his daughter on rides, but his +admiration did not become articulate until she fell off her horse. She +seems to have done it extremely well. "He saw her horse refuse," writes +Mr. Camp, "straightening his knees and sliding in the marshy ground. He +watched Sylvia, with an ease and grace nearly unbelievable, somersault +across the hedge and out of sight in the meadow beyond." + +It seemed to us that the horse should have received some of the credit +for the ease with which Sylvia shot across the hedge, but young Morton +was much too intent upon the fate of his goddess to have eyes for +anything else. When he found her lying on the ground she was +unconscious, and so he told her of his love. That brought her to and she +called him "You--you--stable boy." And so George decided to go to +college. + +His high school preparation had been scant and irregular. He went to +Princeton, and after two months' cramming passed all his examinations. +Football attracted him from the first as a means to the advancement +which he desired. "With surprised eyes," writes our author, "he saw +estates as extravagant as Oakmont, and frequently in better taste. +Little by little he picked up the names of the families that owned them. +He told himself that some day he would enter those places as a guest, +bowed to by such servants as he had been. It was possible, he promised +himself bravely, if only he could win a Yale or a Harvard game." + +Perhaps this explains why one meets so few Princeton men socially. Some, +we have found, are occasionally invited to drop in after dinner. These, +we assume, are recruited from the ranks of those Princetonians who have +tied Yale or Harvard or at least held the score down. + +Like Mr. Minnigerode, Mr. Camp employs symbolism in his story. In the +Yale novel we had Corliss evidently standing for Coy. Just which +Princeton hero George Morton represents we are not prepared to say. In +fact, the only Princeton name which comes to mind at the moment is that +of Big Bill Edwards who used to sit in the Customs House and throw them +all for a loss. Morton can hardly be intended for Edwards because it +seems unlikely that anybody would ever have engaged Big Bill to ride +horses; no, not even to break them. A little further on, however, we are +introduced to the Princeton coach, a certain Mr. Stringham. Here, to be +sure, identification is easy. Stringham, we haven't a doubt, is Roper. +We could wish Mr. Camp had been more subtle. He might, for instance, +have called him Cordier. + +In some respects Morton proved an even better football player than +Corliss. He did not score any greater number of touchdowns, but he had +more of an air with him. Thus, in the account of the Harvard game it is +recorded: "Then, with his interference blocked and tumbling, George +yielded to his old habit and slipped off to one side at a hazard. The +enemy's secondary defense had been drawing in, there was no one near +enough to stop him within those ten yards and he went over for a +touchdown and casually kicked the goal." + +Eventually, George Morton did get asked to all the better houses, but +still Sylvia spurned him. "Go away and don't bother me," was the usual +form of her replies to his ardent words of wooing. Naturally he knew +that he had her on the run. A man who had taken more than one straight +arm squarely in the face during the course of his football career was +not to be rebuffed by a slip of a girl. + +The war delayed matters for a time, and George went and was good at that +too. He was a major before he left Plattsburgh. For a time we feared +that he was in danger of becoming a snob, but the great democratizing +forces of the conflict carried him into the current. One of the most +thrilling chapters in the book tells how he exposed his life under very +heavy fire to go forward and rescue an American who turned out to be a +Yale man. + +There was no stopping George Morton. In the end he wore Sylvia down. +Nothing else could be expected from such a man. German machine guns and +heavy artillery had failed to stop him and he had even hit the Harvard +line, upon occasion, without losing a yard. + +His head was hard and he could not take a hint. In the end Sylvia just +had to marry him. Her right hand swing was not good enough. "As in a +dream he went to her, and her curved lips moved beneath his, but he +pressed them closer so that she couldn't speak; for he felt encircling +them in a breathless embrace, as his arms held her, something thrilling +and rudimentary that neither of them had experienced before----" + +And as we read the further details of the love scene it seemed to us +that George Morton had made a most fortunate choice when he decided to +go to Princeton. His football experience stood him in good stead in his +love-making, for he had been trained with an eleven which tackled around +the neck. + + + + +X + +MR. DEMPSEY'S FIVE-FOOT SHELF + + +It is hardly fair to expect Jack Dempsey to take literature very +seriously. How, for instance, can he afford to pay much attention to +George Bernard Shaw who declared just before the fight that Carpentier +could not lose and ought to be quoted at odds of fifty to one? From the +point of view of Dempsey, then, creative evolution, the superman and all +the rest, are the merest moonshine. He might well take the position that +since Mr. Shaw was so palpably wrong about the outcome of the fight two +days before it happened, it scarcely behooves anybody to pay much +attention to his predictions as to the fate of the world and mankind two +thousand years hence. + +Whatever the reason, Jack Dempsey does not read George Bernard Shaw +much. But he has heard of him. When some reporter came to Dempsey a day +or so before the fight and told him that Shaw had fixed fifty to one as +the proper odds on Carpentier, the champion made no comment. The +newspaper gossiper, disappointed of his sensation, asked if Dempsey had +ever heard of Shaw and the fighter stoutly maintained that he had. The +examination went no further but it is fair to assume that Dempsey did +know the great British sporting writer. It was not remarkable that he +paid no attention to his prediction. Dempsey would not even be moved +much by a prediction from Hughie Fullerton. + +In other words literature and life are things divorced in Dempsey's +mind. He does read. The first time we ever saw Dempsey he discussed +books with not a little interest. He was not at his training quarters +when we arrived but his press agent showed us about--a singularly +reverential man this press agent. "This," he said, and he seemed to +lower his voice, "is the bed where Jack Dempsey sleeps." All the Louises +knew better beds and so did Lafayette even when a stranger in a strange +land. Washington himself fared better in the midst of war. Nor can it be +said that there was anything very compelling about the room in which +Dempsey slept. It had air but not much distinction. There were just two +pictures on the wall. One represented a heavy surf upon an indeterminate +but rather rockbound coast and the other showed a lady asleep with +cupids hovering about her bed. Although the thought is erotic the artist +had removed all that in the execution. + +Much more striking was the fact that upon a chair beside the bed of +Dempsey lay a couple of books and a magazine. It was not _The Bookman_ +but _Photo Play_. The books were "The Czar's Spy" by William Le Queux, +"The Spoilers" by Rex Beach, and at least one other Western novel which +we have unfortunately forgotten. It was, as we remember it, the Luck of +the Lazy Something or Other. The press agent said that Jack read quite a +little and pointed to the reading light which had been strung over his +bed. He then went on to show us the clothes closet and the bureau of +the champion to prove that he was no slave to fashion. We can testify +that only one pair of shoes in the room had gray suede tops. Then we saw +the kitchen and were done. + +There had been awe in the tones of the conductor from the beginning. +"Jack's going to have roast lamb for dinner to-night," he announced in +an awful hush. Even as we went out he could not resist lowering his +voice a little as he said, "This is the hat rack. This is where the +champion puts his hat." We had gone only fifty yards away from the house +when a big brown limousine drew up. "That," said the press agent, and +this time we feared he was going to die, "is Jack Dempsey himself." + +The preparation had been so similar to the first act of "Enter Madame" +that we expected temperament and gesture from the star. He put us wholly +at ease by being much more frightened than any one in the visiting +party. As somebody has said somewhere, "Any mouse can make this elephant +squeal." Jack Dempsey is decidedly a timid man and we found later that +he was a gentle one. He answered, "Yes, sir," and "No, sir," at first. +If we had his back and shoulders we'd have a civil word for no man. By +and by he grew a little more at ease and somebody asked him what he +read. He was not particularly strong on the names of books and he always +forgot the author, which detracts somewhat from this article as a guide +for readers. There were almost three hundred books at his disposal, +since his training quarters had once been an aviation camp. These were +the books of the fliers. Practically all the popular novelists and short +story writers were represented. We remember seeing several titles by +Mary Roberts Rinehart, Irvin Cobb, Zane Grey, Rupert Hughes, and Rex +Beach. Older books were scarce. The only one we noticed was "A Tale of +Two Cities." This Dempsey had not read. Perhaps Jack Kearns advised +against it on account of the possible disturbing psychological effects +of the chapter with all the counting. + +Dempsey said he had devoted most of his time to Western novels. When +questioned he admitted that he did not altogether surrender himself to +them. "I was a cowboy once for a while," he said. "There's a lot of +hokum in those books." But when pressed as to what he really liked his +face did light up and he even remembered the name of the book. "There +was one book I've been reading," he burst out; "it's a fine book. It's +called 'The Czar's Spy.'" + +"Perhaps," suggested Ruth Hale of the visiting party, "a grand duke +would say there was a lot of hokum in that." + +Dempsey was not to be deterred by any such higher criticism. Never +having been a grand duke, he did not worry about the accuracy of the +story. It was in a field far apart from life. That we gathered was his +idea of the proper field for fiction. In life Dempsey is a stern +realist. It is only in reading that he is romantic. A more +impressionable man would have been disturbed by the air of secrecy which +surrounded the camp of Carpentier. That never worried Dempsey. He +prepared himself and never thought up contingencies. He did not even +like to talk fight. None of us drew him out much about boxing. Somebody +told him that Jim Corbett had reported that when he first met Carpentier +he had been vastly tempted to make a feint at the Frenchman to see +whether or not he would fall into a proper attitude of defense. + +"Yes," giggled Dempsey, "and it would have been funny if Carp had busted +him one on the chin." This seemed to him an extraordinary humorous +conceit and he kept chuckling over it every now and then. While he was +in this good humor somebody sounded him out as to what he would do if he +lost; or rather the comment was made that an old time fighter, once a +champion, was now coming back to the ring and had declared that he was +as good as he ever was. + +"Why shouldn't he?" said Dempsey just a little sharply. "Nobody wants to +see a man that says he isn't as good as he used to be." + +"Would you say that?" he was asked. + +"Well," said Dempsey, and this time he reflected a little, "it would all +depend on how I was fixed. If I needed the money I would. I'd use all +the old alibis." + +We liked that frankness and we liked Dempsey again when somebody wanted +to know how he could possibly say anything in the ring during the fight +to "get the goat of Carpentier." "We ain't nearly well enough acquainted +for that," said Dempsey and we gathered that he was of the opinion that +you must know a man pretty well before you can insult him. The champion +is not a man to whom one would look for telling rejoinders, though he +has needed them often enough in the last year and a half. Criticism has +hurt him, for he is not insensitive. He is merely inarticulate. This +must have been the reason which prompted some sporting writers to feel +that he would come into the ring whipped and down from the fact that he +had been able to make no reply to all the charges brought against him. +It did not work out that way. Dempsey did have a means of expression and +he used it. There is no logic in force and yet a man can exclaim "Is +that so!" with his fists. Dempsey said it. If we may be allowed to +stretch a point it might even be hazarded that the champion's motto is +"Say it with cauliflowers." + +As the Freudians have it, fighting is his "escape." Decidedly, he is a +man with an inferiority complex. But for his boxing skill he would need +literature badly. As it is, he does not need to read about hair-breadth +escapes. He has them, such as in the second round of the fight on +Boyle's Thirty Acres. + +In summing up, we can only add that as yet literature has had no large +effect upon the life of Jack Dempsey. + + + + +XI + +SPORT FOR ART'S SAKE + + +For years we had been hearing about moral victories and at last we saw +one. This is not intended as an excuse for the fact that we said before +the fight that Carpentier would beat Dempsey. We erred with Bernard +Shaw. The surprising revelation which came to us on this July afternoon +was that a thing may be done well enough to make victory entirely +secondary. We have all heard, of course, of sport for sport's sake but +Georges Carpentier established a still more glamorous ideal. Sport for +art's sake was what he showed us in the big wooden saucer over on +Boyle's dirty acres. + +It was the finest tragic performance in the lives of ninety thousand +persons. We hope that Professor George Pierce Baker sent his class in +dramatic composition. We will be disappointed if Eugene O'Neill, the +white hope of the American drama, was not there. Here for once was a +laboratory demonstration of life. None of the crowds in Greece who went +to somewhat more beautiful stadiums in search of Euripides ever saw the +spirit of tragedy more truly presented. And we will wager that Euripides +was not able to lift his crowd up upon its hind legs into a concerted +shout of "Medea! Medea! Medea!" as Carpentier moved the fight fans over +in Jersey City in the second round. In fact it is our contention that +the fight between Dempsey and Carpentier was the most inspiring +spectacle which America has seen in a generation. + +Personally we would go further back than that. We would not accept a +ticket for David and Goliath as a substitute. We remember that in that +instance the little man won, but it was a spectacle less fine in +artistry from the fact that it was less true to life. The tradition that +Jack goes up the beanstalk and kills his giant, and that Little Red +Ridinghood has the better of the wolf, and many other stories are +limited in their inspirational quality by the fact that they are not +true. They are stories that man has invented to console himself on +winter's evenings for the fact that he is small and the universe is +large. Carpentier showed us something far more thrilling. All of us who +watched him know now that man cannot beat down fate, no matter how much +his will may flame, but he can rock it back upon its heels when he puts +all his heart and his shoulders into a blow. + +That is what happened in the second round. Carpentier landed his +straight right upon Dempsey's jaw and the champion, who was edging in +toward him, shot back and then swayed forward. Dempsey's hands dropped +to his side. He was an open target. Carpentier swung a terrific right +hand uppercut and missed. Dempsey fell into a clinch and held on until +his head cleared. He kept close to Carpentier during the rest of the +fight and wore him down with body blows during the infighting. We know +of course that when the first prehistoric creature crawled out of the +ooze up to the beaches (see "The Outline of History" by H. G. Wells, +some place in the first volume, just a couple of pages after that +picture of the big lizard) it was already settled that Carpentier was +going to miss that uppercut. And naturally it was inevitable that he +should have the worst of it at infighting. Fate gets us all in the +clinches, but Eugene O'Neill and all our young writers of tragedy make a +great mistake if they think that the poignancy of the fate of man lies +in the fact that he is weak, pitiful and helpless. The tragedy of life +is not that man loses but that he almost wins. Or, if you are intent on +pointing out that his downfall is inevitable, that at least he completes +the gesture of being on the eve of victory. + +For just eleven seconds on the afternoon of July 2 we felt that we were +at the threshold of a miracle. There was such flash and power in the +right hand thrust of Carpentier's that we believed Dempsey would go +down, and that fate would go with him and all the plans laid out in the +days of the oozy friends of Mr. Wells. No sooner were the men in the +ring together than it seemed just as certain that Dempsey would win as +that the sun would come up on the morning of July 3. By and by we were +not so sure about the sun. It might be down, we thought, and also out. +It was included in the scope of Carpentier's punch, we feared. No, we +did not exactly fear it. We respect the regularity of the universe by +which we live, but we do not love it. If the blow had been as +devastating as we first believed, we should have counted the world well +lost. + +Great circumstances produce great actors. History is largely concerned +with arranging good entrances for people; and later exits not always +quite so good. Carpentier played his part perfectly down to the last +side. People who saw him just as he came before the crowd reported that +he was pitifully nervous, drawn, haggard. It was the traditional and +becoming nervousness of the actor just before a great performance. It +was gone the instant Carpentier came in sight of his ninety thousand. +His head was back and his eyes and his smile flamed as he crawled +through the ropes. And he gave some curious flick to his bathrobe as he +turned to meet the applause. Until that very moment we had been for +Dempsey, but suddenly we found ourself up on our feet making silly +noises. We shouted "Carpentier! Carpentier! Carpentier!" and forgot even +to be ashamed of our pronunciation. He held his hands up over his head +and turned until the whole arena, including the five-dollar seats, had +come within the scope of his smile. + +Dempsey came in a minute later and we could not cheer, although we liked +him. It would have been like cheering for Niagara Falls at the moment +somebody was about to go over in a barrel. Actually there is a +difference of sixteen pounds between the two men, which is large enough, +but it seemed that afternoon as if it might have been a hundred. And we +knew for the first time that a man may smile and smile and be an +underdog. + +We resented at once the law of gravity, the Malthusian theory and the +fact that a straight line is the shortest distance between two points. +Everything scientific, exact, and inevitable was distasteful. We wanted +the man with the curves to win. It seemed impossible throughout the +first round. Carpentier was first out of his corner and landed the first +blow, a light but stinging left to the face. Then Dempsey closed in and +even the people who paid only thirty dollars for their seats could hear +the thump, thump of his short hooks as they beat upon the narrow stomach +of Carpentier. The challenger was only too evidently tired when the +round ended. + +Then came the second and, after a moment of fiddling about, he shot his +right hand to the jaw. Carpentier did it again, a second time, and this +was the blow perfected by a life time of training. The time was perfect, +the aim was perfect, every ounce of strength was in it. It was the blow +which had downed Bombardier Wells, and Joe Beckett. It rocked Dempsey to +his heels, but it broke Carpentier's hand. His best was not enough. +There was an earthquake in Philistia but then out came the signs +"Business as usual!" and Dempsey began to pound Carpentier in the +stomach. + +The challenger faded quickly in the third round, and in the fourth the +end came. We all suffered when he went down the first time, but he was +up again, and the second time was much worse. It was in this knockdown +that his head sagged suddenly, after he struck the floor, and fell back +upon the canvas. He was conscious and his legs moved a little, but they +would not obey him. A gorgeous human will had been beaten down to a +point where it would no longer function. + +If you choose, that can stand as the last moment in a completed piece +of art. We are sentimental enough to wish to add the tag that after a +few minutes Carpentier came out to the center of the ring and shook +hands with Dempsey and at that moment he smiled again the same smile +which we had seen at the beginning of the fight when he stood with his +hands above his head. Nor is it altogether sentimental. We feel that one +of the elements of tragedy lies in the fact that Fate gets nothing but +the victories and the championships. Gesture and glamour remain with +Man. No infighting can take that away from him. Jack Dempsey won fairly +and squarely. He is a great fighter, perhaps the most efficient the +world has ever known, but everybody came away from the arena talking +about Carpentier. He wasn't every efficient. The experts say he fought +an ill considered fight and should not have forced it. In using such a +plan, they say, he might have lasted the whole twelve rounds. That was +not the idea. As somebody has said, "Better four rounds of----" but we +can't remember the rest of the quotation. + +Dempsey won and Carpentier got all the glory. Perhaps we will have to +enlarge our conception of tragedy, for that too is tragic. + + + + +XII + +JACK THE GIANT KILLER + + +All the giants and most of the dragons were happy and contented folk. +Neither fear nor shame was in them. They faced life squarely and liked +it. And so they left no literature. + +The business of writing was left to the dwarfs, who felt impelled to +distort real values in order to make their own pitiful existence +endurable. In their stories the little people earned ease of mind for +themselves by making up yarns in which they killed giants, dragons and +all the best people of the community who were too big and strong for +them. Naturally, the giants and dragons merely laughed at such times as +these highly drawn accounts of imaginary happenings were called to their +attention. + +But they laughed not only too soon but too long. Giants and dragons have +died and the stories remain. The world believes to-day that St. George +slew the dragon, and that Jack killed all those giants. The little man +has imposed himself upon the world. Strength and size have come to be +reproaches. The world has been won by the weak. + +Undoubtedly, it is too late to do anything about this now. But there is +a little dim and distant dragon blood in our veins. It boils when we +hear the fairy stories and we remember the true version of Jack the +Giant Killer, as it has been handed down by word of mouth in our family +for a great many centuries. We can produce no tangible proofs, and we +are willing to admit that the tale may have grown a little distorted +here and there in the telling through the ages. Even so it sounds much +more plausible to us than the one which has crept into the story books. + +Jack was a Celt, a liar and a meager man. He had great green eyes and +much practice in being pathetic. He could sing tenor and often did. But +it was not in this manner that he lived. By trade he was a newspaper man +though he called himself a journalist. In his shop there was a printing +press and every afternoon he issued a newspaper which he called _Jack's +Journal_. Under this name there ran the caption, "If you see it in +_Jack's Journal_ you may be sure that it actually occurred." Jack had no +talent for brevity and little taste for truth. All in all he was a +pretty poor newspaper man. We forgot to say that in addition to this he +was exceedingly lazy. But he was a good liar. + +This was the only thing which saved him. Day after day he would come to +the office without a single item of local interest, and upon such +occasions he made a practice of sitting down and making up something. +Generally, it was far more thrilling than any of the real news of the +community which clustered around one great highroad known as Main +Street. + +The town lay in a valley cupped between towering hills. On the hills, +and beyond, lived the giants and the dragons, but there was little +interchange between these fine people and the dwarfs of the village. +Occasionally, a sliced drive from the giants' golf course would fall +into the fields of the little people, who would ignorantly set down the +great round object as a meteor from heaven. The giants were considerate +as well as kindly and they made the territory of the little people out +of bounds. Otherwise, an erratic golfer might easily have uprooted the +first national bank, the Second Baptist Church, which stood next door, +and _Jack's Journal_ with one sweep of his niblick. If by any chance he +failed to get out in one, the total destruction of mankind would have +been imminent. + +Once upon a time, a charitable dowager dragon sought to bring about a +closer relationship between the peoples of the hills and the valley in +spite of their difference in size. Hearing of a poor neglected family in +the village, which was freezing to death because of want of coal, she +leaned down from her mountain and breathed gently against the roof of +the thatched cottage. Her intentions were excellent but the damage was +$152,694, little of which was covered by insurance. After that the +dragons and the giants decided to stop trying to do favors for the +little people. + +Being short of news one afternoon, Jack thought of the great gulf which +existed between his reading public and the big fellows on the hill and +decided that it would be safe to romance a little. Accordingly, he wrote +a highly circumstantial story of the manner in which he had gone to the +hills and killed a large giant with nothing more than his good broad +sword. The story was not accepted as gospel by all the subscribers, but +it was well told, and it argued an undreamed of power in the arm of man. +People wanted to believe and accordingly they did. Encouraged, Jack +began to kill dragons and giants with greater frequency in his +newspaper. In fact, he called his last evening edition _The Five Star +Giant Final_ and never failed to feature a killing in it under great red +block type. + +The news of the Jack's doings came finally to the hill people and they +were much amused, that is all but one giant called Fee Fi Fo Fum. The Fo +Fums (pronounced Fohum) were one of the oldest families in the hills. +Jack supposed that all the names he was using were fictitious, but by +some mischance or other he happened one afternoon to use Fee Fi Fo Fum +as the name of his current victim. The name was common enough and +undoubtedly the thing was an accident, but Mr. Fo Fum did not see it in +that light. To make it worse, Jack had gone on in his story with some +stuff about captive princesses just for the sake of sex appeal. Not only +was Mr. Fo Fum an ardent Methodist, but his wife was jealous. There was +a row in the Fo Fum home (see encyclopedia for Great Earthquake of 1007) +and Fee swore revenge upon Jack. + +"Make him print a retraction," said Mrs. Fo Fum. + +"Retraction, nothing," roared Fee, "I'm going to eat up the presses." + +Over the hills he went with giant strides and arrived at the office of +_Jack's Journal_ just at press time. Mr. Fo Fum was a little calmer by +now, but still revengeful. He spoke to Jack in a whisper which shook the +building, and told him that he purposed to step on him and bite his +press in two. + +"Wait until I have this last page made up," said Jack. + +"Killing more giants, I presume?" said Fee with heavy satire. + +"Bagged three this afternoon," said Jack. "Hero Slaughters Trio of +Titans." + +"My name is Fo Fum," said the giant. Jack did not recognize it because +of the trick pronunciation and the visitor had to explain. + +"I'm sorry," said Jack, "but if you've come for extra copies of the +paper in which your name figures I can't give you any. The edition is +exhausted." + +Fo Fum spluttered and blew a bale of paper out of the window. + +"Cut that out," said Jack severely. "All complaints must be made in +writing. And while I'm about it you forgot to put your name down on one +of those slips at the desk in the reception room. Don't forget to fill +in that space about what business you want to discuss with the editor." + +Fo Fum started to roar, but Jack's high and pathetic tenor cut through +the great bass like a ship's siren in a storm. + +"If you don't quit shaking this building I'll call Julius the office boy +and have him throw you out." + +"Take the air," added Jack severely, disregarding the fact that Fo Fum +before entering the office had found it necessary to remove the roof. +But now the giant was beginning to stoop a little. His face grew purple +and he was swaying unsteadily on his feet. + +"Hold on a minute," said Jack briskly, "don't go just yet. Stick around +a second." + +He turned to his secretary and dictated two letters of congratulation to +distant emperors and another to a cardinal. "Tell the Pope," he said in +conclusion, "that his conduct is admirable. Tell him I said so." + +"Now, Mr. Fo Fum," said Jack turning back to the giant, "what I want +from you is a picture. There is still plenty of light. I'll call up the +staff photographer. The north meadow will give us room. Of course, you +will have to be taken lying down because as far as the _Journal_ goes +you're dead. And just one thing more. Could you by any chance let me +have one of your ears for our reception room?" + +Fo Fum had been growing more and more purple, but now he toppled over +with a crash, carrying part of the building with him. Almost two years +before he had been warned by a doctor of apoplexy and sudden anger. Jack +did not wait for the verdict of any medical examiner. He seized the +speaking tube and shouted down to the composing room, "Jim, take out +that old head. Make it read, 'Hero Finishes Four Ferocious Foemen.' And +say, Jim, I want you to be ready to replate for a special extra with an +eight column cut. I'll have the photographer here in a second. I killed +that last giant right here in the office. Yes, and say, Jim, you'd +better use that stock cut of me at the bottom of the page. A caption, +let me see, put it in twenty-four point cheltenham bold and make it read +'Jack--the Giant Killer.'" + + + + +XIII + +JUDGE KRINK + + +H. 3d, our three-year-old son, has created for himself out of thin air +somebody whom he can respect. The name of this character is Judge Krink, +but generally he is more casually referred to as "the Judge." He lives, +so we are informed, at some remote place called Fourace Hill. H. 3d says +Judge Krink is his best friend. He told us yesterday that he had written +a letter to Judge Krink and had received one in reply. + +"What did you say?" we asked. + +"I said I was writing him a letter." + +"What did he say?" + +"Nothing." + +This interchange of courtesies did not seem epoch-making even in the +life of a child, but we learned later just how extraordinarily important +and useful Judge Krink had become to H. 3d. Cross-examination revealed +the fact that Judge Krink has dirty hands which he never allows to be +washed. Under no compulsion does he go to bed. Apparently he sits all +day long in a garden, more democratically administered than any city +park, digging dirt and putting it in a pail. + +Candy Judge Krink eats very freely and without let or hindrance. In fact +there is nothing forbidden to H. 3d which Judge Krink does not do with +great gusto. Rules and prohibitions melt before the iron will and +determination of the Judge. We suppose that when the artificial +restrictions of a grown-up world bear too heavily upon H. 3d he finds +consolation in the thought that somewhere in the world Judge Krink is +doing all these things. We cannot get at Judge Krink and put him to bed +or take away his trumpet. The Judge makes monkeys of all of us who seek +to administer harsh laws in an unduly restricted world. The sound of his +shovel beating against his tin pail echoes revolution all over the +world. + +And vicariously the will of H. 3d triumphs with him, no matter how +complete may be any mere corporeal defeat which he himself suffers. The +more we hear about the Judge the more strongly do we feel drawn to him. +We would like to have one of our own. Some day we hope to win sufficient +favor with H. 3d to prevail upon him to introduce us to Judge Krink. + + * * * * * + +We are never to meet Judge Krink after all. He has passed back into the +nowhere from whence he came. It was only to-day that we learned the +news, although we had suspected that the Judge's popularity was waning. +Some visitor undertook to cross-question H. 3d about his relations with +Krink and it was plain to see that the child resented it, but we were +not prepared for the direction which his revenge took. When we asked +about the Judge to-day there was no response at first and it was only +after a long pause that H. 3d answered, "I don't have Judge Krink any +more. He's got table manners." + + + + +XIV + +FRANKINCENSE AND MYRRH + + +Once there were three kings in the East and they were wise men. They +read the heavens and they saw a certain strange star by which they knew +that in a distant land the King of the world was to be born. The star +beckoned to them and they made preparations for a long journey. + +From their palaces they gathered rich gifts, gold and frankincense and +myrrh. Great sacks of precious stuffs were loaded upon the backs of the +camels which were to bear them on their journey. Everything was in +readiness, but one of the wise men seemed perplexed and would not come +at once to join his two companions who were eager and impatient to be on +their way in the direction indicated by the star. + +They were old, these two kings, and the other wise man was young. When +they asked him he could not tell why he waited. He knew that his +treasuries had been ransacked for rich gifts for the King of Kings. It +seemed that there was nothing more which he could give, and yet he was +not content. + +He made no answer to the old men who shouted to him that the time had +come. The camels were impatient and swayed and snarled. The shadows +across the desert grew longer. And still the young king sat and thought +deeply. + +At length he smiled, and he ordered his servants to open the great +treasure sack upon the back of the first of his camels. Then he went +into a high chamber to which he had not been since he was a child. He +rummaged about and presently came out and approached the caravan. In his +hand he carried something which glinted in the sun. + +The kings thought that he bore some new gift more rare and precious than +any which they had been able to find in all their treasure rooms. They +bent down to see, and even the camel drivers peered from the backs of +the great beasts to find out what it was which gleamed in the sun. They +were curious about this last gift for which all the caravan had waited. + +And the young king took a toy from his hand and placed it upon the sand. +It was a dog of tin, painted white and speckled with black spots. Great +patches of paint had worn away and left the metal clear, and that was +why the toy shone in the sun as if it had been silver. + +The youngest of the wise men turned a key in the side of the little +black and white dog and then he stepped aside so that the kings and the +camel drivers could see. The dog leaped high in the air and turned a +somersault. He turned another and another and then fell over upon his +side and lay there with a set and painted grin upon his face. + +A child, the son of a camel driver, laughed and clapped his hands, but +the kings were stern. They rebuked the youngest of the wise men and he +paid no attention but called to his chief servant to make the first of +all the camels kneel. Then he picked up the toy of tin and, opening the +treasure sack, placed his last gift with his own hands in the mouth of +the sack so that it rested safely upon the soft bags of incense. + +"What folly has seized you?" cried the eldest of the wise men. "Is this +a gift to bear to the King of Kings in the far country?" + +And the young man answered and said: "For the King of Kings there are +gifts of great richness, gold and frankincense and myrrh. + +"But this," he said, "is for the child in Bethlehem!" + + + + +XV + +THE EXCELSIOR MOVEMENT + + +The fun of most of the criticism of George Jean Nathan's lies in the +fact that he has been an irreconcilable in the theater. Rules and +theories have been disclaimed by him. Each play has been a problem to be +considered separately without relation to anything else except, of +course, the current dramatic activities in Vienna, Budapest and Moscow. +Most of his themes have been variations of the two important aspects of +all criticism, "I like" and "I don't like." Masking his thrusts under a +screen of indifference, he has generally afforded stirring comment by +the sudden revelation of the fact that his enthusiasms and his hates are +lively and personal. Being among the unclassified, the element of +surprise has entered largely into his expression of opinion. + +But of late it is evident that Mr. Nathan has grown a little lonely in +functioning as a guerilla in the field of dramatic reviewing. He is +envious of the cults and his scorn of Clayton Hamilton, George Pierce +Baker and William Archer seems to have been nothing more than what the +Freudians call a defensive mechanism. He too would ally himself with a +school--to be called the George Jean Nathan School of Criticism. + +His latest volume of collected essays, entitled "The Critic and the +Drama," is designed as a prospectus for pupils. It undertakes to codify +and describe in part the theater of to-day and to analyze and explain +much more fully George Jean Nathan. He insists on our knowing how the +trick is done. To us there is something disturbing in all this. We have +always been among those who did not care to go behind the scenes at the +playhouse for fear that we might be forced to learn how thunder is +contrived and the manner of making lightning. Still more we have feared +that somebody would impel us into a corner and point out the real David +Belasco. We much prefer our own romantic impression gathered wholly from +his curtain speeches at first nights. + +It is painful, then, to have the new book insist upon our meeting the +real Mr. Nathan. It was not our desire ever to know how his mind worked. +We much preferred to believe that the charming little pieces in the +_Smart Set_ had no father and no mother except spontaneous combustion. +To find this antic author burdened with theories is almost as +disillusioning as to hear of Pegasus winning the 2.20 trot or one of the +muses contracting to give a culture course at the Woman's Study Club of +New Rochelle. + +And the worst of it is that the theories of Mr. Nathan, when exposed in +detail, seem to be much like those of other men. Even those who have +never had the privilege of attending a performance of Micklefluden's +"Arbeit" at Das Hochhaus in Prague early in the spring of 1905 have much +the same philosophy of the critic and the playhouse as Mr. Nathan. Thus +we find him explaining that Shakespeare was "the greatest dramatist who +ever lived, because he alone of all dramatists most accurately sensed +the mongrel nature of his art." Mr. Nathan also insists sternly that +criticism must be personal, and in discussing the relation between the +printed and the acted drama he ingeniously makes a comparison with +music. + +"If drama is not meant for actors," he cries, "may we not also argue +that music is not meant for instruments?" We see no reason on earth why +Mr. Nathan should not argue in this manner, since so many hundreds in +the past have raised the same point. It is also interesting to learn +that Mr. Nathan thinks that the drama can never approximate nature. "It +holds the mirror not up to nature but to the spectator's individual +nature." He has also discovered that "great drama, like great men and +women, is always just a little sad." + +"The Critic and the Drama" is probably the most profound book which Mr. +Nathan has ever published and it is by far the dullest. His pages are +alive with echoes even at such times as they are not directly evoked and +called upon by name. One of the difficulties of profundity is +overcrowding. A man may remain pretty much to himself as long as he +chooses to keep his touch light and avoid research. Taking a suggestion +from Mr. Nathan, it may be said that all great masses of men are a +little serious. In the plains and the rolling country there is room for +an individual to skip and frolic, but all the peaks are pre-empted. + +It may not be generally known that the young man who carried the banner +with the strange device was lucky to die when he did. Had he eventually +reached the summit which he sought he would have discovered to his great +dismay that he merely constituted the 29th division in the annual outing +of the Excelsior Marching and Chowder Club. + +Criticism gives the lie to an ancient adage. In this field of endeavor +"The higher the fewer" may be recognized as an exquisite piece of +irony. + + + + +XVI + +THE DOG STAR + + +_The Silent Call_ presents the most beautiful of all male stars now +appearing in the films. In intelligence, also, his rank seems high. The +picture is built around Strongheart, a magnificent police dog. There +are, to be sure, minor two-legged persons in his support, but +practically all the heavy emotional scenes are reserved for Strongheart. + +The dog star has virtues which are all his own. Any man of such glorious +physique could hardly fail to betray self-consciousness. His virility +would obsess him to such an extent that there certainly would be moments +of posturing and swagger. Strongheart is above all this. He never trades +upon the fact of being a "he dog" or even emphasizes that he is +red-blooded and 100 per cent police. + +Unlike all the other handsome devils of the screen, he goes about his +business without smirking. His smile is broad, unaffected and filled +with teeth and tongue. And above all, Strongheart does not slick down +his hair with water or with wax. + +Fine mountain country has been selected for _The Silent Call_ and we see +Strongheart galloping like a racing snow plow through white meadows +which foam at his progress. He fights villains with great intensity and +sincerity, devastates great herds of cattle and brings the picture to a +fitting climax by leaping from a jutting cliff to drown a miscreant in a +whirlpool. We have seen no photography as beautiful nor any picture so +vivid and live in action. + +The story itself is good enough, but somewhat less than masterly. +Repetition dulls the edge of rescue. The heroine, for instance, never +should have been allowed to visit God's own country without a chaperon. +Her propensity for predicament seems unlimited. Let her be lost in a +virgin forest, if only for a moment, and out of the nowhere some villain +arises to buffet her with odious and violent attentions. + +She keeps Strongheart as busy as if he had been a traffic police dog. He +is forever engaged in indicating "Stop" and "Go" to the stream of +miscreants who bear down upon Miss Betty Houston. Villainicular traffic +in the Northwest woods seems to be in need of constant regulation. + +Strongheart bit some bad men and barked at others. Both measures were +effective, for this is an unusual dog in that his bark is just as bad as +his bite. He never questioned the character or the intentions of the +heroine. After all, he was only a dumb animal and his loyalty was tinged +with no suspicions. + +We must admit that the human frailty of doubt sometimes led us to carp a +little at the rectitude of Miss Houston. Her plights were so numerous +that we were mean enough to wonder whether all were accidental. There +was one particular villain, for instance, who attempted to abduct her no +less than four times. We could not dismiss the thought that perhaps she +had given him some encouragement. Indeed we would not have been +surprised if at last there has come a caption quoting the heroine as +saying: "Get along with you, dog, and mind your own business." This, +however, did not prove to be within the scheme of the scenario writers. + +In all justice to Miss Houston, it must be said that, though she owed +Strongheart much, he was also in her debt. It took the love of a good +woman to drag him back from degradation. He was a nice dog until his +master left the ranch and went East to correct the proofs of a new book. +Strongheart could not understand that and neither could we. It seemed to +us as if the publisher might have sent the galleys on by mail. + +Deprived of the care of his owner, Strongheart began to revert to type. +He had been a wolf and he took to long hikes away from home. When he +grew hungry he killed a cow. The cattle men put a price upon his head +and Strongheart became an outcast. + +His return to civilization was effected by the first attack upon Miss +Houston. Even a wolf knows that it is only a coward who would strike a +woman. The police instinct proved stronger than the call of the wild and +the great beast bounded out of the thicket and seized Ash Brent by the +trousers. This was the first of many meetings between Ash and +Strongheart. The last and decisive encounter was in the whirlpool. The +dog swam to the bank alone and sat upon the bank to howl the piercing +death cry of the wolf. + +There is a suggestion of a happy ending in _The Silent Call_ because +Strongheart's original master falls in love with Miss Houston and +marries her. It was probably the only union for the heroine which the +dog would have sanctioned, and yet we cannot imagine that it left him +entirely happy. Once the much beset young woman was given over into the +care of a good man, Strongheart must have realized that his vocation was +gone. Ash Brent was dead and all the other villains had been captured by +the Sheriff. Placidity stared Strongheart in the face. + +To be sure, he bit people only because they were bad, but, like most +reformers, he had learned to love his work. It was to him more than a +duty. We doubt whether he remained long with the honeymooners. It is our +notion that on the first dark night he took to the wilds again. We can +imagine him stalking a contented cow in the moonlight. The poor beast +lowers her head for grass and Strongheart, seeking to convince himself +that the horns have been employed in an overt act, mutters: "You would, +would you!" Then comes the leap and the crashing of the great wolf jaws. +It is the invariable tragedy of the reformer that, though his work has +been accomplished, he cannot retire. First come the giants and then the +windmills. + + + + +XVII + +ALTRUISTIC POKER + + +Although Ella Wheeler Wilcox's autobiography is a human document +throughout, nothing in it has interested us quite so much as her +description of her husband's poker system in the chapter called "The +Compelling Lover." + +"In my early married life," writes Mrs. Wilcox, "he was much in demand +for the game of poker," but a little later she explains, "Even in his +love of cards and in his monotonous life of travel for the first seven +years after our marriage, when card games were his only recreation, he +introduced his idea of altruism. This, too, was a matter known only to +me. He played games of chance only with men he knew; whatever money he +made was kept in a separate purse, and when he came home he asked me to +help him distribute it among deserving people." + +Any new system is worth trying when your luck is bad, and yet it seems +to us that there are fundamental objections to the scheme suggested by +Mrs. Wilcox. At least, we don't think it would work well for us. If we +drew a club to four hearts we might bravely push all our chips forward +and say "Raise it," provided the risk was ours alone. We couldn't do +that if we were playing for Uncle Albert. Our anxiety would betray us. +Even if Aunt Hattie had been mentally selected as the beneficiary of the +evening we should feel compelled to play the cards close to our chest. +She is a dear old lady and not a bit prudish, but we're sure she would +never approve of whooping the pot on a king and an ace and a seven spot. + +Then take the debatable question of two pairs. Personally we have always +believed in raising on them before the draw. Such a procedure is +dangerous, perhaps, but profitable in the long run. Under the Wilcox +system it might be difficult to take the larger viewpoint. It is more +than possible that we would grow timorous if Cousin Susie's hope of a +comfortable old age rested upon eights and deuces. + +Some years ago we used to encounter, every now and again, a kindly +middle-aged gentleman who was playing to send his brother to Harvard. It +weighed on him. Whenever he looked at his cards he had his brother's +chance of an education in mind. In fact, he grew so excessively cautious +that anybody could bluff him out of quite large pots merely by reaching +for a white chip. Some of the players, we fear, used to take advantage +of this fact. As we remember it, the young man finally went to the C. C. +N. Y. + +Of course, Ella Wheeler Wilcox makes no claim that the system is a +winning one. The implication is quite the other way. After all, she +writes of her husband, "He was much in demand for the game of poker." + + + + +XVIII + +THE WELL MADE REVIEW + + +One of the simplest ways in which a critic can put a play in its place +is to refer to it as "well made." The phrase has come to be a reproach. +It suggests a third act in which the friend of the family tells the +husband, "Take her out and buy her a good dinner," and the lover decides +that he will go back to Mesopotamia----"Alone!" + +George Bernard Shaw changed the style, and taught playgoers to refuse to +accept technic as something just as good as spiritual significance. We +now await the revolt against the well-made revue. Each of the Ziegfeld +Follies is perfect of its kind, but just as in the plays of Pinero, form +has triumphed over substance. The name Ziegfeld on the label means a +magnificent product perfect in every detail with complete satisfaction +guaranteed, but it is a standardized product. You know just what you are +going to get. Ziegfeld scenery, Ziegfeld costumes mean something +definite. Even "a Ziegfeld chorus girl" suggests an unvarying type. The +hood is as unmistakable as that of a Ford automobile. + +At times one is struck with a longing to find a single homely girl among +all the merry marchers. And there is at least a shadow of a wish to +encounter, likewise, something in a song or a set or a costume rough, +unfinished and ungainly. Alexander sighed and so might Ziegfeld. His +supremacy in the field of musical revue is unquestioned. Even the shows +with which he has no connection follow his modes as best they can, +though sometimes at a great distance. He really owes it to himself and +to his public to put on, in the near future, a very bad revue so that in +the ensuing year that most precious element in +entertainment--surprise--may again come to the theater through him. The +first of all the Ziegfeld Follies must have furnished its audience with +a night of startled rapture. The rest have produced a pleasant evening. + +Burdened by years of success, Mr. Ziegfeld must be hampered by +innumerable rules about revue making. He has created tradition and +probably it rises up in front of him now and again to bark his shins. +The Follies is still an entertainment, but now it is also an +institution. Plan, premeditation and the note of service must all have +won their places in the making of each new show in the succession. The +critic will not depart in peace until he has seen somehow, somewhere an +altogether irresponsible revue. It will be produced not by Edward Royce +but by spontaneous combustion. Some of it will be terrible. Few of the +costumes will fit and many of them will be in bad taste. None of the +tunes will be hummed by the audience as it leaves the theater. But, +nevertheless and notwithstanding, this irresponsible revue of which I +speak is going to contain two good jokes. + +I had at least a glimmer of hope that _Shuffle Along_ might be the first +blow of the revolution against the well-made revue. Early explorers in +the Sixty-Second Street Music Hall came back glowing with discovery. +And yet after seeing the negro revue it seems to me that stout Cortes +and all his men were duped. In book and music and dancing _Shuffle +Along_ follows Broadway tradition just as closely as it can. It is rough +with old things which have crumbled and not with new things which are +unfinished. And yet it is easy to understand the thrill which swept +through some of the pioneers who were the first to see _Shuffle Along_. +In it there is one quality possessed by no other show which has been +seen in New York this year. Most musical comedy performers seem to be +altruists who are putting themselves out to a great extent in order to +please you and the other paying customers. _Shuffle Along_ is entirely +selfish. No matter how enthusiastic the audience, it cannot possibly get +as much fun out of the show as the performers. Not since the last trip +to New York of the Triangle Club have I seen the amateur spirit more +fully realized in the theater. Perhaps the performers get paid, but it +does not seem fitting. The more engaging theory is that each member of +the chorus of _Shuffle Along_ who keeps his work up at top pitch until +the end of the season receives a large blue sweater with a white "S. A." +on the front and is then allowed to break training. The ten best +performers, in addition, are tapped on the shoulder. There is a rumor +that social distinction as well as merit enters into this selection, but +it has never, to my knowledge, been confirmed. + +Of course, nothing in the remarks above is to be construed as implying +that people in the Ziegfeld choruses do not have a good time. Such a +statement would certainly be far from the facts. As somebody or other +has so aptly said, "It's great to be young and a Ziegfeld chorus girl." +The difference is that no Caucasian chorister, including the +Scandinavian, has the faculty of enjoying herself with the same +frankness and abandon as the African. Centuries of civilization and +weeks of training make it impossible. The Follies girl knows what she +likes, but she has been taught not to point. A certain reserve and +reticence is part of the Ziegfeld tradition. Even the most daring of Mr. +Ziegfeld's experiments in summer costuming are more esthetic than +erotic. Though the legs of the longest showgirl may be bare, one feels +that she is clothed in reverence. When the lights begin to dim, and the +soft music sounds to indicate that the current Ben Ali Haggin tableau is +about to be disclosed, I am always a little nervous. So solemn and +dignified is the entire atmosphere of the affair that I feel a little +like a Peeping Tom in the presence of Godiva and generally I cover my +eyes in order that they may be preserved for the final processional in +which one girl will be Coal, another Aviation and a third the Monroe +Doctrine. + +The parade is one of the traditions of the Follies. "When in doubt make +them march," is the way the rule reads in Mr. Ziegfeld's notebook. All +of which opens the way to the suggestion that Mr. Ziegfeld should try +the experiment some year of cutting about $100,000 out of his bill for +costumes and using the money to buy a joke. In that case the marching +chorus girls could pass a given point. + + + + +XIX + +AN ADJECTIVE A DAY + + +It was a child in Hans Christian Andersen's fairy tale who finally told +the truth by crying out, "He hasn't got anything on," as the king +marched through the streets clad only in the magic cloth woven and cut +by the swindling tailor. You may remember that everybody else kept +silent because the tailor had given out that the cloth was visible only +to such as were worthy of their position in life. The child knew nothing +of this and anyway he didn't have any position in life, so he piped up +and cried, "He hasn't got anything on." And though he was but a child +others took up the cry, and finally even the king was convinced and ran +to get his bathrobe. The tailor, as we remember the story, was executed. + +In course of time that child grew up, and married, and died leaving +heirs behind him. And they in turn were not so barren, so that to-day +vast numbers of his descendants are in the world. Nearly all of them are +critics of one sort or another, but mostly young critics. Like their +great ancestor they are frank and shrill, and either valiant or +foolhardy as you choose to look at it. Certainly they seldom hesitate to +rush in. No, there is no doubt at all that they are just a wee bit +hasty, these descendants of the child. It is rather useful that every +now and then one of them should point a finger of scorn at some falsely +great figure in the arts and cry out his nakedness at top voice. But +sometimes they make mistakes. It has happened not infrequently that +worthy and respectable artists and authors in great coats, close-fitting +sack suits, and heavy woolen underwear, have been greeted by some member +of the clan with the traditional cry, "He hasn't got anything on." + +This may be embarrassing as well as unfair. Ever since the child scored +his sensational critical success so many years ago, all his sons have +been eager to do likewise. They have inherited extraordinary suspicion +regarding the raiment of all great men. Even when they are forced to +admit that some particular king is actually clad in substantial +achievement of one sort or another, they are still apt to carp about the +fit and cut of his clothing. Almost always they maintain that he +borrowed his shoes from some one else and that he cannot fill them. + +In regard to humbler citizens they are apt to carry charity to great +lengths. In addition to the incident recorded by Andersen they cherish +another legend about the child. According to the tradition, he wrote a +will just before he died in which he said, "Thank heaven I leave not a +single adjective to any of my descendants. I have spent them all." + +The clan is notoriously extravagant. They live for all the world like +Bedouins of the Sahara without thought of the possibility of a rainy +day. Their gaudiest years come early in life. Middle age and beyond is +apt to be tragic. Almost nothing in the experience of mankind is quite +so heartrending as the spectacle of one of these young critics, grown +gray, coming face to face in his declining years with a masterpiece. At +such times he is apt to be seized with a tremor and stricken dumb. +Undoubtedly he is tormented with the memory of all the adjectives which +he flung away in his youth. They are gone beyond recall. He fumbles in +his purse and finds nothing except small change worn smooth. The best he +can do is to fling out a "highly creditable piece of work" and go on his +way. + +Still he has had fun for his adjectives for all that. There is a +compensating glow in the heart of the young critic when he remembers the +day an obscure author came to him asking bread, though rather expecting +a stone, and he with a flourish reached down into the breadbox and gave +the poor man layer cake. + +"After all," one of the young critics told me in justifying his mode of +life, "it may be just as tragic as you say to be caught late in life +with a masterpiece in front of you and not a single adequate adjective +left in your purse. Yes, I'll grant you that it's unfortunate. But +there's still another contingency which I mean to avoid. Wouldn't it be +a rotten sell to die with half your adjectives still unused? You know +you can't take them with you to heaven. Of what possible use would they +be up there? Even the bravest superlatives would seem pretty mean and +petty in that land. Think of being blessed with milk and honey for the +first time and trying to express your gratitude and wonder with, 'The +best I ever tasted.' No, sir. I'm going to get ready for the new eternal +words by using up all the old ones before I die." + + + + +XX + +THE UNKNOWN SOLDIER + + +They call him "the unknown hero." It is enough, it is better that we +should know him as "the unknown soldier." "Hero" suggests a superman and +implies somebody exalted above his fellows. This man was one of many. We +do not know what was in his heart when he died. It is entirely possible +that he was a fearful man. He may even have gone unwillingly into the +fight. That does not matter now. The important thing is that he was +alive and is dead. + +He was drawn from a far edge of the world by the war and in it he lost +even his identity. War may have been well enough in the days when it was +a game for heroes, but now it sweeps into the combat everything and +every man within a nation. The unknown soldier stands for us as symbol +of this blind and far-reaching fury of modern conflict. His death was in +vain unless it helps us to see that the whole world is our business. No +one is too great to be concerned with the affairs of mankind, and no one +too humble. + +The unknown soldier was a typical American and it is probable that once +upon a time he used to speak of faraway folk as "those foreigners." He +thought they were no kin of his, but he died in one of the distant +lands. His blood and the blood of all the world mingled in a common +stream. + +The body of the unknown soldier has come home, but his spirit will +wander with his brothers. There will be no rest for his soul until the +great democracy of death has been translated into the unity of life. + + + + +XXI + +A TORTOISE SHELL HOME + + +Every once in so often somebody gets up in a pulpit or on a platform and +declares that home life in America is being destroyed. The agent of +devastation varies. According to the mood of the man with forebodings, +it is the motion pictures, the new dances, bridge, or the comic +supplements in the Sunday newspapers. It seems to us that these +defenders of the home are themselves offensively solicitous. If we +happened to be a home, we rather think that we would resent the +overeagerness of our champions. They act as if the thing they seek to +preserve were so weak and pitiful that it must go down before the gust +of any new enthusiasm. + +After all, the home is much older than these dragons which are said to +be capable of devouring it. Least of all are we disposed to worry over +deadly effects from the new dances. This fear has recently been put into +vivid form by Hartley Manners in a play called "The National Anthem," in +which Laurette Taylor, his wife, was starred. Jazz, according to Mr. +Manners, is our anthem. The hero and the heroine of his play dance +themselves to the brink of perdition. The end is tragic, for the husband +dies and the wife narrowly escapes from the effects of poison which she +has taken by mistake while dazed from drink and dancing. + +This seems to us special and exceptional. A vice must be easy to be +universally dangerous. All the moralists assure us that descent by the +primrose path is facile. Skill in the new dances argues to us a certain +strength of character. We do not understand how any person of flabby +will can become proficient. In our own case we must confess that it is +not our strength and uprightness which has kept us from jazz, but such +traits as timidity and lack of application. As a boy we painstakingly +learned the two-step. For this we deserve no great credit. It was not +our wish, and only the vigorous application of parental influence +carried us through. After we broke away from the home ties we began to +back-slide. The dances changed from month to month and we lacked the +hardihood to keep up. Cravenly we quit and slumped into a job. + +None of our excuses can be made persuasive enough for exoneration. All +there is to be said for work as opposed to dancing is that it is so much +easier. Of course, our respect is infinite for the sturdy ones who have +gone through the flames of cleansing and perfecting fire and have earned +the right to step out upon the waxed floor. Few of them escape the marks +of their time of tribulation. Every close observer of American dancing +must have noted the set expression upon the face of all participants. +There is hardly one who might not serve as a model for General Grant +exclaiming: "I propose to fight it out on this line if it takes all +summer." + +No form of national activity begins to be so conscientious as dancing. +Up-to-date physicians, we understand, are beginning to prescribe it as +tonic and penance for patients growing slack in their attitude toward +life. At a cabaret recently a man pointed out a dancer in the middle of +the floor and said: "That woman in the bright red dress is fifty-six +years old." We were properly surprised, and he went on: "Her story is +interesting. Two years ago she went to a neurologist because of a +general physical and nervous breakdown. He said to her: 'Madam, the +trouble is that you are growing old, and, worse than that, you are ready +to admit it. You must fight against it. You must hold on to youth as if +it were a horizontal bar and chin yourself.'" + +We looked at the woman more closely and saw that she was obeying the +doctor's orders literally. Her fight was a gallant one. Dancing had +served to keep down her weight and improve her blood pressure, but there +was not the slightest suggestion that she was enjoying herself. She had +bought advice and she was intent upon using it. And as we looked over +the entire floor we could see no one who seemed to be dancing for the +fun of it. A few took a pardonable pride in their perfection of fancy +steps, but that emotion is not quite akin to joy. They were dancing for +exercise or prestige, or to fulfill social obligations. + +All this is admirable in its way, but we have not sufficient faith in +the persistence of human gallantry to believe that it can last forever. +The home will get every last one of the dancers yet because it is so +much easier to loaf in an easy-chair than to keep up the continual +bickering against old age, indolence, and the selfishness of comfort. + +Motion pictures may be more dangerous because we are informed that they +are still in their infancy. But perhaps the home is also. In spite of +the length of time during which it has been going on, its possibilities +of development are enormous. Within the memory of living man a home was +generally supposed to be a place where people sat and stared at each +other. Sometimes they visited neighbors, but these trips were +traditionally restricted to occasions upon which the friends were ill +and too helpless to carry on a conversation. If any one doubts that talk +is a recent development in home life, let him consider the musical +instruments of a generation which is gone. Take the spinnet, for +instance, and note that even the most carefully modulated whisper would +have drowned out its feeble tinkle. + +To be sure, our ancestors had books and a few magazines, but they were +not of a sort to promote general conversation. Only the grown-ups were +capable of exchanging their views on Mr. Thackeray's latest novel. But +now, when the group returns from an evening at the motion-picture +theater where "The Kid" or "Shoulder Arms" is being shown, it is +impossible to keep anybody out of the discussion on account of his lack +of years. Little Ferdinand has just as much right to an opinion about +the prowess of Charlie Chaplin as grandpa, and, according to our +observation, it is a right almost certain to be exercised. + +Of course, before we began this discussion of the decay of home life we +should have set about coming to some definition acceptable to both sides +of the controversy. Now, when it is too late to do anything about it, we +are struck by the fact that we are probably talking at cross purposes. +It is our contention that man is not less than the turtle. We think it +is entirely possible for him to carry his home life around with him. It +would not seem to us, for instance, that home life was impaired if the +family took in the movies now and again or even very frequently. Nor are +we willing to accept a bridge party down the street as something alien +and outside. In other words, a man's home (and, of course, we mean a +woman's home as well) ought not to be defined by the walls of his house +or even by the fences of the front yard. The anti-suffragists once had +the slogan "Woman's place is in the home," but what they really meant +was "in the house," since they used to insist that the business of +voting would take her out of it. It seems to us that the woman of to-day +should have a home with limits at least as spacious as those of the +whole world. And so naturally she ought to have her share in all the +concerns of life. + + + + +XXII + +I'D DIE FOR DEAR OLD RUTGERS + + +"He fought the last twenty rounds with a broken hand." "The final +quarter was played on sheer nerve, for an examination at the end of the +game showed that his backbone was shattered and both legs smashed." +"Although knocked senseless in the opening chukker, he finished the +match and no one realized his predicament until he confessed to his team +mates in the clubhouse." + +These are, of course, incidents common enough in the life of any of our +sporting heroes. To a true American sportsman a set of tennis is held in +about the same esteem as a popular playwright holds a woman's honor. +There is no point at which "I give up" can be sanctioned. Not only must +the amateur athlete sell his life dearly, but he must keep on selling it +until he is carried off the field. Accordingly, it is easy to understand +why Forest Hills seethed with indignation when Mlle. Suzanne Lenglen +walked (she could still walk, mind you) over to an official in the +middle of a tennis match and announced that she was ill and would not +continue. It was quite obvious to all that the Frenchwoman was still +alive and breathing and the thing was shocking heresy. + +The writer is not disposed to defend Suzanne's heresy to the full. He +believes that Mlle. Lenglen was ill, but he feels that she erred, not +because she resigned, but because she did it with so little grace. She +seemed to have no appreciation of the hardship which the sudden +termination of the match imposed upon Mrs. Molla Bjurstedt Mallory. +However, Molla did and came off the court swearing. + +It was an embarrassing moment, but possibly a moral can be dug from it +all the same. For the first time in the experience of many, a new sort +of athletic tradition was vividly presented. No one will deny that the +French knew the gesture of Thermopylæ as well as the next one, but they +have never thought to associate it with sports. The gorgeous and gallant +Carpentier has, upon occasions in his ring career, resigned. He showed +no lack of nerve on these occasions, but merely followed a line of +conduct which is foreign to us. Pitted at those particular times against +men who were too heavy for him and facing certain defeat, he admitted +their superiority somewhat before the inevitable end. Like a chess +master, he sensed the fact that victory was no longer in the balance, +and that nothing remained to be done except some mopping up. Such +perfunctory and merely academic action did not seem to him to come +properly within the realm of sport, particularly if he was to be the man +mopped up. + +American sport commentators who knew these facts in the record of +Carpentier were disposed to announce before his match with Dempsey that +he would most certainly seek to avoid a knockout by stopping as soon as +he was hurt. His astounding courage surprised them. And yet it was +exactly the sort of courage they should have expected. He did not fight +on through gruelling punishment just for the sake of being a martyr. He +went through it because up to the very end he believed that his great +right hand punch might win for him, and even at the last Carpentier was +still swinging. + +In spite of the sentimental objections of the old-fashioned follower of +sports, the tradition which was bred out of Sparta by Anglo-Saxon has +begun to decay. Referees do step in and end unequal contests. Ring +followers themselves are known to cry, "Stop the fight" at times when +the match has become no longer a contest. "Mollycoddles!" shriek the +ghosts of the bareknuckle days who float over the ring, but we do not +heed their voices. Again, we have decreasing patience with the severely +injured football player who struggles against the restraining arms of +the coaches when they would take him out because of his disabilities. +To-day he is less a hero than a rather dramatically self-conscious young +man who puts a gesture above the success of his team. + +There is still ground for the modification of a sporting tradition which +has made those things which we call games become at moments ordeals +having no relation to sport. Losing is still considered such a serious +business that an elaborate ritual has been built up as to what +constitutes good losing. We not only demand that a man shall die, if +need be, for the Lawn Tennis Championship of Eastern Rhode Island, but +we go so far as to prescribe the exact manner in which he shall die. A +set, silent and determined demeanor is generally favored. + +From Japan have come hints of something better in this direction. Every +American engaged in sport should be required to spend an afternoon in +watching Zenzo Shimidzu of the Japanese Davis Cup team. Shimidzu's +contribution to sport is the revelation that a man may try hard and yet +have lots of fun even when things go against him. He seems to reserve +his most winning smile for his losing shots. Once in his match against +Bill Johnston he was within a point of set and down from the sky a high +short lob was descending. Shimidzu was ready for what seemed a certain +kill. He was as eager as an avenging sparrow. Back came his racquet and +down it swung upon the ball, only to drive it a foot out of court. +Immediately, the little man burst into a silent gale of merriment. The +fact that he had a set within his grasp and had thrown it away seemed to +him almost the funniest thing which had ever happened to him. + +Of course, this is a manner which might be difficult for us Americans to +acquire. Unlike the Japanese we have only a limited sense of humor. Its +limits end for the most part with things which happen to other people. +We laugh at the pictures in which we see Happy Hooligan being kicked by +the mule, but we would not be able to laugh if we ourselves met the same +mule under similar circumstances. However, in an effort to popularize +the light and easy demeanor in sporting competition it is fair to point +out that it is not only a beautiful thing but that it is also +effective. + +Shimidzu almost beat Tilden by the very fact that he refused to do +anything but smile when things went against him. The tall American would +smash a ball to a far corner of the court for what seemed a certain +kill, but the little man would leap across the turf and send it back. +And as he stroked the ball he smiled. It was discouraging enough for +Tilden to be pitted against a Gibraltar, but it seemed still more +hopeless from the fact that even when he managed to split the rock it +broke only into the broadest of grins. + +Ten years of work by one of our most prominent editors for a war with +Japan were swept away by the Davis Cup matches. It is hard to understand +how there can be any race problem concerning a people with so excellent +a backhand and so genial a disposition. Indeed, many of the things which +our friends from California have told us about Japan did not seem to be +so. All of us have heard endlessly about the rapidity with which the +Japanese increase. There was no proof of it at Forest Hills. When the +doubles match started there were on one side of the net two Japanese. +When the match ended, almost four hours later, there was still just two +Japanese. + + + + +XXIII + +ARE EDITORS PEOPLE? + + +One of the characters in "A Prince There Was" is the editor of a +magazine and, curiously enough, he has been made the hero of the film. +Of course, there may be something to be said for editors. Indeed, we +have heard them trying to say it, and yet they remain among the forces +of darkness and of mystery. By every rule of logic the editor in any +story ought to be the villain. + +It is not the darkness so much as the mystery which disturbs us. Only +rarely have we been able to understand what an editor was talking about. +Sometimes we have suspected that neither of us did. There was, for +instance, the man who tapped upon his flat-topped desk and said with +great precision and deliberation, "When you are writing for _Blank's +Magazine_, you want to remember that _Blank's_ is a magazine which is +read at five o'clock in the afternoon." + +He was our first editor. Disillusion had not yet set in. We still +believed in Santa Claus and sanctums. And so we took home with us the +advice about five o'clock and pondered. We remembered it perfectly, but +that was not much good. "_Blank's_ is a magazine which is read at five +o'clock in the afternoon." How were we to interpret this declaration of +a principle? It was beyond our powers to write with ladyfingers. +Possibly the editor meant that our style needed a little more lemon in +it. There could be no complaint, we felt sure, against the sugar. Ten +years of hard service on a New York morning newspaper had granulated us +pretty thoroughly. + +Having made up our mind that a slight increase in the acid content per +column might enable us to qualify with the editor as a man who could +write for five o'clock in the afternoon, we were suddenly confronted +with a new problem. _Blank's_ was an international magazine. Did the +editor mean five o'clock by London or San Francisco time? Until we knew +the answer there was no good running our head against rejection slips. +There was no way to tell whether he would like an essay entitled "On +Pipe Smoking Before Breakfast in Surrey," or whether he would prefer a +little something on "Is the Garden of Eden Mentioned in the Bible +Actually California?" Naturally, if one were writing with San +Francisco's five o'clock in mind he would go on to make some comparison +between Los Angeles and the serpent. + +After extended deliberation, we decided that perhaps it would be best +not to try to write for _Blank's_ at all. It might put a strain upon the +versatility of a young man too hard for him to bear. Suppose, for +instance, he worked faithfully and molded his style to meet all the +demands and requirements of five o'clock in the afternoon, and then +suppose just as he was in the middle of a long novel, daylight saving +should be introduced? His art would then be exactly one hour off and he +would be obliged to turn back his hands along with those of the clock. + +Of course, even though you understand an editor you may not agree with +him. The makers of magazines incline a little to dogma. Give a man a +swivel chair and he will begin to lean back and tell you what the public +wants. Gazing through his window over the throng of Broadway, a faraway +look will come into his eyes and he will begin to speak very earnestly +about the farmer in Iowa. The farmer in Iowa is enormously convenient to +editors. He is as handy as a rejection slip. In refusing manuscripts +which he doesn't want to take, an editor almost invariably blames it on +some distant subscriber. "I like this very much myself," he will +explain. "It's great stuff. I wish I could use it. That part about the +bobbed hair is a scream. But none of it would mean anything to the +farmer in Iowa. Won't you show me something again that isn't quite so +sophisticated?" + +Riding through Iowa, we always make it a point to shake our fist at the +landscape. And if by any chance the train passes a farmer we try to hit +him with some handy missile. And why not? He kept us out of print. At +least they said he did. + +And yet though editors are invariably doleful about the capacity of the +farmer in Iowa and points west, it would be quite inaccurate to suggest +any fundamental pessimism. An editor is always optimistic, particularly +when a contributor asks for his check. But it really is a sincere and +deep grained hopefulness. No editor could live from day to day without +the faculty or arguing himself into the belief that the next number of +his magazine is not going to be quite so bad as the last one. + +Unfortunately he is not content to be a solitary tippler in good cheer. +He feels that it is his duty to discover authors and inspirit them. +Indeed, the average editor cannot escape feeling that telling a writer +to do something is almost the same thing as performing it himself. + +The editorial mind, so called, is afflicted with the King Cole complex. +Types subject to this delusion are apt to believe that all they need do +to get a thing is to call for it. You may remember that King Cole called +for his bowl just as if there were no such thing as a Volstead +amendment. "What we want is humor," says an editor, and he expects the +unfortunate author to trot around the corner and come back with a quart +of quips. + +An editor would classify "What we want is humor" as a piece of +coöperation on his part. It seems to him a perfect division of labor. +After all, nothing remains for the author to do except to write. + +Sometimes the mogul of a magazine will be even more specific. We +confessed to an editor once that we were not very fertile in ideas, and +he said, "Never mind, I'll think up something for you." + +"Let me see," he continued, and crinkled his brow in that profound way +which editors have. Suddenly the wrinkles vanished and his face lighted +up. "That's it," he cried. "I want you to go and do us a series +something like Mr. Dooley." He leaned back and fairly beamed +satisfaction. He had done his best to make a humorist out of us. If +failure followed it could only be because of shortsightedness and +stubbornness on our part. We had our assignment. + + + + +XXIV + +WE HAVE WITH US THIS EVENING---- + + +We have always wondered just what it is which frightens the after dinner +speaker. He is protected by tradition, the Christian religion and the +game laws. And yet he trembles. Perhaps he knows that he is going to be +terrible, but it is common knowledge that after dinner speakers seldom +reform. The life gets them. It was thought, once upon a time, that the +practice was in some way connected with alcoholic stimulation, but this +has since been disproved. After dinner speaking is a separate vice. +Total abstainers from every other evil practice are not immune. + +The chief fault is that an irrationally inverted formula has come into +being. The after dinner speaker almost invariably begins with his +apology. He is generally becomingly frank when he first gets to his +feet. There is always a confident prophecy that the audience is not +going to be very much interested in what he has to say and the admission +that he is pretty sure to do the job badly. Unfortunately, no speaker +ever succeeds in deterring himself by these forebodings of disaster. He +never fails to go on and prove the truth of his own estimate of +inefficiency. + +Many men profess to find the greatest difficulty in getting to their +feet. Perhaps this is sincere, but the task does not seem to be +one-sixteenth as hard as sitting down again. People whose vision is +perfect in every other respect suffer from a curious astigmatism which +prevents them from recognizing a stopping point when they come to it. We +suggest to some ingenious inventor that he devise a combination of time +clock and trip hammer by which a dull, blunt instrument shall be +liberated at the end of five minutes so that it may fall with great +force, killing the after dinner speaker and amusing the spectators. The +mechanical difficulties might be great, but the machine would be even +more useful if it could be attuned in some way so that the hammer should +fall, if necessary, before the expiration of the five minutes, the +instant the speaker said, "That reminds me of the story about the two +Irishmen." + +Funny stories are endurable, in moderation, if only the teller is +perfectly frank in introducing them for their own sake and not +pretending that they have any conceivable relationship to the endowment +fund of Wellesley College, or the present condition of the silk business +in America. To such length has hypocrisy gone, that there is now at +large and dining out, a gentleman who makes a practice of kicking the +leg of the table and then remarking, "Doesn't that sound like a +cannon?--Speaking of cannon, that reminds me----" + +Another young man of our own acquaintance has been using the same +anecdote for all sorts of occasions for the last four years. His story +concerns an American soldier who drove a four-mule team past the first +line trench in the darkness and started rumbling along an old road that +led across no-man's-land. He had gone a few yards when a doughboy jumped +up out of a listening post and began to signal to him. "What's the +matter?" shouted the driver. + +"Shush! Shush!" hissed the outpost with great terror and intensity. +"You're driving right toward the German lines. For Heaven's sake go back +and don't speak above a whisper." + +"Whisper, Hell!" roared the driver. "I've got to turn four mules +around." + +It may be that there actually was such an outpost and such a driver, but +neither had any intention of acting as a perpetual symbol and yet we +know positively that this particular story has been introduced as an +argument for buying another Liberty Bond of the fourth issue; as a +justification for the vehemence of the American novelists of the younger +generation; and as a reason for the tendency to overstatement in the +dramatic and literary criticism of New York newspapers. We are also +under the impression that it was used in a debate concerning the +propriety of a motion picture censorship in New York state. + +Indeed the speaker whom we have in mind never failed to use the mule +story, no matter what the nature of the occasion, unless he substituted +the one about the man who wanted to go to Seville. He was a farmer, this +man, and he lived some few miles away from Seville in a little +ramshackle farm house. It had been his ambition of a lifetime to go to +Seville and upon one particular morning he came out of the house +carrying a suitcase. + +"Where are you going?" asked his wife. + +"To Seville," replied the farmer. + +His wife was a very pious woman and she added by way of correction, "You +mean, God willing." + +"No," objected the farmer, dogmatically, "I mean I'm going to Seville." + +Now Heaven was angered by this impiety and the dogmatic farmer was +immediately transformed into a frog. Before the very eyes of his wife he +lost his mortal form and hopped with a great splash into the big pond +behind the house. To that pond the good woman went every day for a year +and prayed that her husband should be restored to his natural form. On +the first morning of the second year the big frog began to grow bigger +and bigger and suddenly he was no longer a frog but a man. Out of the +pond he leaped and ran straightaway into the house. He came out carrying +a suitcase. + +"Where are you going?" exclaimed the startled wife. + +"To Seville," said the farmer. + +"You mean," his wife implored in abject terror, "God willing." + +"No," answered the farmer, "to Seville or back to the frog pond!" + +The young man of whom we are writing first heard the story from Major +General Robert Lee Bullard in a training school in Lyons. The doughty +warrior told it in reply to the question, "What is this offensive spirit +of which you've been telling us?" But with a sea change the story took +up many other and varied rôles. It served as the climax of an eloquent +speech in favor of the release of political prisoners; it began an +address urging greater originality upon the dramatists of America and it +was conscripted at a luncheon to Hughie Jennings to explain the +speaker's interpretation of the fundamental reason for the victory of +the New York Giants over the Yankees in the world's series of last +season. + +Speaking of baseball, a great football coach once said that he could +develop a championship eleven any time at all out of good material and +seven simple plays well learned. Likewise, an after-dinner speaker can +manage tolerably well with a limited supply of stories, if only they are +elastic enough in interpretation and he covers a sufficiently wide range +of territory in his dining rambles. + +It is our experience that the most inveterate story tellers among public +speakers are ministers. Unfortunately, the average clergyman has a +tendency to select tales a little rowdy in an effort to set himself down +among his listeners as a fellow member in good standing of the +fraternity of Adam. Still more unfortunately the ministerial speaker +often attempts to modify and deodorize the anecdote a little and, on top +of that, gets it just a little wrong. No matter who the narrator may be, +nothing is quite so ghastly as the improper story when told to an +audience of more than ten or eleven listeners. Even more than a poetic +drama a purple story needs a group, small and select. Any one interested +in preserving impropriety might very well endow a chain of thimble +theaters with a maximum seating capacity of ten. Some such step is +needed or the off color yarn will disappear entirely from American life. +It was nurtured upon big mirrors and brass rails and, these being +lacking, there is no proper atmosphere in which it may suitably be +reared. Most certainly the anecdote of doubtful character does not +belong to large banquets even of visiting Elks. Literature of this sort +is fragile. It represents what the Freudians call an escape, and the +most brazen of us is a little shamefaced about taking off his +inhibitions in front of a hundred people, mostly strangers. + +There must be something wrong with after-dinner speaking because it is +notoriously the lowest form of American oratory. It if were not for +Chauncey M. Depew whole generations in this country would have been born +and lived and died without once having any memory worth preserving after +the demitasse. The trouble, we think, is that dinner guests are much too +friendly. It is the custom that the man at the speakers' table may not +be heckled. He is privileged and privilege has made him dull. According +to our observation there is never anything of interest said with the +laying of cornerstones or the dedication of new high school buildings. +On the other hand, we have frequently been amused and excited by tilts +at political conventions and mass meetings. + +William Jennings Bryan is among the prize bores of the world when he +gets up to do his canned material about _The Prince of Peace_, but no +sensitive soul can fail to admire this same Commoner if he has ever had +the privilege of hearing him talk down political foes upon the floor of +a convention. All the labored tricks of oratory are forgotten then. Give +Mr. Bryan some one at whom he may with propriety shake a finger and he +becomes direct, vivid and moving. + +Colonel Theodore Roosevelt was a speaker of somewhat the same type. He +did not talk well unless there was some living and present person for +him to speak against. Upon one occasion we heard him make a particularly +dreary discourse, and incidentally a political one, until he came to a +point where a group in the audience took exception to some statement and +attempted to howl him down. It was like the touch of a whip on the +flanks of a stake horse. Roosevelt returned to the statement and said it +over again, only this time he said it much more dogmatically and twice +as well. Before that speech was done he had climbed to the top of a +table and was putting all his back and shoulders into every word. Even +his platitudes seemed to be knockout blows. He was inspiring. He was +magnificent. + +The after-dinner speaker needs this same stimulus of emotion. He ought +to have something into which he can get his teeth. Every well conducted +banquet should include a special committee to heckle the guests of +honor. Even a dreary person might be aroused to fervor if his opening +sentence was met with a mocking roar of, "Is that so!" Loud cries of +"Make him sit down" would undoubtedly serve to make the speaker forget +his entire stock of anecdotes about Pat and Mike. There would be no calm +in which he could be reminded of anything except that certain +desperadoes were not willing to listen, and that, by the Old Harry, he +was going to give it to them so hot and heavy that they would have to. + +The scheme may sound a little cruel, but we ought to face the fact that +a time has come when we must choose between cutting off the heads of our +after-dinner speakers or slapping them in the face. We believe that they +deserve to have a chance to show us whether or not they have a right to +live. + + + + +XXV + +THE YOUNG PESSIMISTS + + +Bert Williams used to tell a story about a man on a lonely road at night +who suddenly saw a ghost come out of the forest and begin to follow him. +The man walked faster and the ghost increased his pace. Then the man +broke into a run with the ghost right on his heels. Mile after mile, +faster and faster, they went until at last the man dropped at the side +of the road exhausted. The ghost perched beside him on a large rock and +boomed, "That was quite a run we had." "Yes" gasped the man, "and as +soon as I get my breath we're going to have another one." + +Our young American pessimists see man at the moment he drops beside the +road, and without further investigation decide that it is all up with +him. To be sure, they may not be very far wrong in the ultimate fate of +man, but at least they anticipate his end. They do not stick with him +until the finish; and this second-wind flight, however useless, is +something so characteristic of life that it belongs in the record. I +have at least a sneaking suspicion that now and again there happens +along a runner so staunch and courageous that he keeps up the fight +until cock-crow and thus escapes all the apparitions which would +overthrow him. Of course, it is a long shot and the young pessimists +are much too logical to wait for such miraculous chances. As a matter of +fact, they don't call themselves pessimists, but prefer to be known as +rationalists, realists, or some such name which carries with it the hint +of wisdom. + +And they are wise up to the very point of believing only the things they +have seen. However, I am not sure they are quite so wise when they go a +notch beyond this and assert roundly that everything which they have +seen is true. For my own part I don't believe that white rabbits are +actually born in high hats. The truth is quicker than the eye, but it is +hardly possible to make any person with fresh young sight believe that. +Question the validity of some character in a play or book by a young +rationalist and he will invariably reply, "Why she lived right in our +town," and he will upon request supply name, address, and telephone +number to confound the doubters. + +"Let the captious be sure they know their Emmas as well as I do before +they tell me how she would act," wrote Eugene O'Neill when somebody +objected that the heroine of "Diff'rent" was not true. This, of course, +shifts the scope of the inquiry to the question, "How well does O'Neill +know his Emmas?" Indeed, how well does any bitter-end rationalist know +anybody? Once upon a time we lived in a simple age in which when a man +said, "I'm going to kick you downstairs because I don't like you," and +then did it, there was not a shadow of doubt in the mind of the person +at the foot of the stairs that he had come upon an enemy. All that is +changed now. During the war, for instance, George Sylvester Viereck +wrote a book to prove that every time Roosevelt said, "Viereck is an +undesirable citizen," or words to that effect, he was simply dissembling +an admiration so great that it was shot through and through with +ambivalent outbursts of hatred. Mr. Viereck may not have proved his +case, but he did, at least, put his relations into debatable ground by +shifting from Philip conscious to Philip subconscious. + +In the new world of the psychoanalysts there is confusion for the +rationalist even though he is dealing with something so inferentially +logical as a science. For here, with all its tangible symbols, is a +science which deals with things which cannot be seen or heard or +touched. And much of all the truth in the world lies in just such dim +dominions. The pessimist is very apt to be stopped at the border. For +years he has reproached the optimist with the charge that he lived by +dreams rather than realities. Now, wise men have come forward to say +that the key to all the most important things in life lies in dreams. Of +course, the poets have known that for years, but nobody paid any +attention to them because they only felt it and offered no papers to the +medical journals. + +It would be unfair to suggest that no dreamer is a pessimist. The most +prolific period of pessimism comes at twenty-one, or thereabouts, when +the first attempt is made to translate dreams into reality, an attempt +by a person not over-skillful in either language. Often it is made in +college where a new freedom inspires a somewhat sudden and wholesale +attempt to put every vision to the test. Along about this time the young +man finds that the romanticists have lied to him about love and he +bounces all the way back to Strindberg. Maybe he gets drunk for the +first time and learns that every English author from Shakespeare to +Dickens has vastly overrated it for literary effect. He follows the +formulæ of Falstaff and instead of achieving a roaring joviality he goes +to sleep. Personally tobacco sent me into a deep pessimism when I first +took it up in a serious way. Huck's corncob pipe had always seemed to me +one of the most persuasive symbols of true enjoyment. It seemed to me +that life could hold nothing more ideal than to float down the +Mississippi blowing rings. After six months of experimenting I was ready +to believe that maybe the Mississippi wasn't so much either. Romance +seemed pretty doubtful stuff. Around this time, also, the young man +generally discovers, in compulsory chapel, that the average minister is +a dull preacher; and of course that knocks all the theories of the +immortality of the soul right on the head. He may even have come to +college with a thirst for knowledge and a faith in its exciting quality, +only to have these emotions ooze away during the second month of +introductory lectures on anthropology. + +Accordingly, it is not surprising to find F. Scott Fitzgerald's Amory +Blaine looking at the towers of Princeton and musing: + + Here was a new generation, shouting the old cries, learning the old + creeds through a revery of long days and nights; destined finally + to go out into that dirty gray turmoil to follow love and pride; a + new generation dedicated more than the last to the fear of poverty + and the worship of success; grown up to find all Gods dead, all + wars fought; all faiths in man shaken.... + +Nobody wrote as well as that in Copeland's course at Harvard but there +was a pretty general agreement that life--or rather Life--was a sham and +a delusion. This was expressed in poems lamenting the fact that the +oceans and the mountains were going to go on and that the writer +wouldn't. + +Generally he didn't give the oceans or the mountains very long either. +All the short stories were about murder and madness. We cut our patterns +into very definite conclusions because we were pessimists and sure of +ourselves. It was the most logical of philosophies and disposed of all +loose ends. One of my pieces (to polish off a theme on the futility of +human wishes) was about a man who went stark raving, and Copeland sat in +his chair and groaned and moaned, which was his substitute for making +little marks in red ink. He had been reading Sheridan's "The Critic" to +the class with the scene in which the two faithless Spanish lovers and +the two nieces and the two uncles all try to kill each other at the same +time, and are thus thrown into the most terrific stalemate until the +author's ingenious contrivance of a beefeater who cries, "Drop your +weapons in the Queen's name." At any rate when I had finished the little +man ceased groaning and shook his head about my story of the man who +went mad. "Broun," he said, "try to solve your problems without recourse +to death, madness--or any other beefeater in the Queen's name." + +And it seems to me that the young pessimists, generally speaking, have +allowed themselves to be bound in a formula as tight as that which ever +afflicted any Pollyanna. It isn't the somberness with which they imbue +life which arouses our protest, so much as the regularity. They paint +life not only as a fake fight in which only one result is possible, but +they make it again and again the selfsame fight. + + + + +XXVI + +GLASS SLIPPERS BY THE GROSS + + +When Cinderella sat in the ashes she should have consoled herself with +the thought of the motion-picture rights. No young woman of our time has +had her adventures so ceaselessly celebrated in film and drama. Of +course, she generally goes by some other name. It might be "Miss Lulu +Bett," for instance. + +For our part, we must confess that much as we like Zona Gale's modern +and middle-western version of the old tale, Cinderella is beginning to +lose favor with us. Her appeal in the first place rested on the fact +that she was abused and neglected, but by this time the ashes have +become the skimpiest sort of interlude. You just know that the fairy +godmother is waiting in the wings, and you can hear the great coach +honking around the corner. Undoubtedly, the order for the glass slippers +was placed months in advance. More than likely it called for a gross, +since there are ever so many Cinderella feet to fit these days--what +with Peg and Kiki and Sally and Irene and all the authentic members of +the family. Indeed, for a time, Cinderella was spreading herself around +so lavishly in dramatic fiction that one sex was not enough to contain +her, and we had a Cinderella Man. All the usual perquisites were his +except the glass slipper. + +And now the time has come when the original poetic justice due to the +miss by the kitchen stove has quite worn off. Cinderella has been paid +in full, but how about her two ugly sisters? They have gone down the +ages without honor or rewards. Each time their aspirations are blighted. +Although eminently conscientious in fulfilling their social duties, it +has availed them nothing. We are determined not to welcome the story +again until it appears in a revised form. In the version which we favor, +Prince Charming will try the glass slipper upon Cinderella, and then +turn away without enthusiasm, remarking in cutting manner, "It is not a +fit. Your foot is much too small." One of the ugly sisters will be +sitting somewhat timidly in the background, and it will be to her the +Prince will turn, exclaiming rapturously: "A perfect number nine!" + +And they lived happily ever after. + +And while we are about it, a good many of the fairy stories can stand +revision. This Jack the Giant Killer has been permitted to go to +outrageous lengths. Between him and David, and a few others, the +impression has been spread broadcast that any large person is a perfect +setup for the first valiant little man who chooses to assail him with +sword or sling. We purpose organizing the Six Foot League to combat this +hostile propaganda. Elephants will be admitted, too, on account of the +unjust canard concerning their fear of mice. We and the elephants do not +intend to go on through life taking all sorts of nonsense from +whippersnappers. The success of Jack and all the other little men of +legend has undoubtedly been due to the chivalry of the big and strong. +Dragons have died cheerfully rather than take a mean advantage and slay +pestiferous and belligerent runts by spitting out a little fire. Why +doesn't somebody celebrate the heroism of these miscalled monsters who +have gone down with full steam in their boilers because they were +unwilling even to guard themselves against foemen so palpably out of +their class? + +Take St. George, for instance. Do you imagine for a minute that his +victory was honestly and fairly earned? British pluck and all the rest +of it had nothing to do with it. The dragon could have finished him off +in a second, but the huge and kindly animal was afflicted with an acute +sense of humor. Between paroxysms it is known to have remarked: "I shall +certainly die laughing." It could not resist the sight of St. George +swaggering up to the attack in full armor like an infuriated Ford +charging the Woolworth Building. And the strangest part of it all is +that the dragon did die laughing just as it had predicted. St. George +flung his sword exactly between a "ha" and a "ha." The tiny bit of steel +lodged in the windpipe like a fishbone, and before medical assistance +could be summoned the dragon was dead. Of course it was clever, but we +should hardly call it cricket. All the triumphs of the little men are of +much the same sort. Honest, slam-bang, line play has never entered into +their scheme of things. Their reputation rests on fakes and forward +passes. + +Then there was the wolf and Little Red Riding-Hood. The general +impression seems to be that the child's grandmother was a saintly old +lady and that the wolf was a beast. Let us dismiss this sentimental +conception and consider the facts squarely. Before meeting the wolf Red +Riding-Hood was the usual empty-headed flapper. She knew nothing of the +world. So flagrant was her innocence that it constituted a positive +menace to the community. The wolf changed all that. It gave Red +Riding-Hood a good scare and opened her eyes. After that encounter +nobody ever fooled Red Riding-Hood much. She positively abandoned her +practice of wandering around into cottages on the assumption that if +there was anybody in bed it must be her grandmother. + +The familiar story, somehow or other, has omitted to say that Miss Hood +eventually married the richest man in the village. Perhaps the old +narrator did not want to reveal the fact that on top of the what-not in +the palatial home there stood a silver frame, and upon the picture in +the frame was written: "Whatever measure of success I may have attained +I owe to you--Red Riding-Hood." And whose picture do you suppose it was? +Her grandmother? No. Her husband? Oh, no, indeed! It was the wolf. + + + + +XXVII + +A MODERN BEANSTALK + + +The legends of the world have been devised by timorous people. They +represent the desire of man, sloshing around in a world much too big for +him, to keep up his courage by whistling. He has pretended through these +tales that champions of his own kind would spring up to protect him. +"Let St. George do it," was a well known motto in the days of old. + +And we must insist again that such tales are false and pernicious +stimulants for the young. We intend to tell H. 3d that when Jack climbed +up the beanstalk the giant flicked him off with one finger. We want the +child to have some respect for size and to associate it with authority. +Otherwise we don't see how we can possibly prevail upon him to pay any +attention when we say, "Stop that." If he goes on with these fairy +stories he will merely measure us coolly for a slingshot. + +As a matter of fact, he doesn't pay any attention now. The time for +propaganda is already here. In our stories the ogre is going to receive +his due. Of course, we will add a moral. It would be wrong to lead the +boy to believe that brute force is the only effective power in the +world. Now and then a giant will be killed, but it will not be any easy +victory for one presumptuous champion with a magic sword. Instead we +will explain that little Jack was not killed when the giant flipped him +off the beanstalk. The huge finger struck him only a glancing blow. +Nevertheless, it took Jack a good many days to get well again. It was a +fine lesson for him. During his convalescence (naturally we will have to +think up a shorter word) he did a lot of thinking. As soon as he was up +and around he scoured the country for other boys and at last he managed +to recruit a band of fifty. The first dark night Jack climbed the +beanstalk again, but he took along the fifty. By a prearranged plan they +fell upon the giant from all sides and managed to bear him down and kill +him. We certainly are not going to admit that a giant can be opened by +anything less than Jacks or better. + +Following the account of the death of the giant will come the moral. We +will explain that Jack is small and weak and that there are great and +monstrous powers in the world which are too strong for him. But he need +not wait for the superman or the magic lamp or anything like that. He +must make common cause with his kind. At this point we shall probably +digress for a while to go into a brief but adequate exposition of the +League of Nations, municipal ownership, profit sharing and the single +tax. + +Dropping the serious side of the discussion, we shall add that even a +great broth of a man can be spoiled by too many cooks. There is no power +in the world great enough to resist the will of man if only he moves +against it valiantly--and in numbers. + +Maybe H. 3d will not like our version of "Jack and the Beanstalk" half +as well as the original. But we fear that when he grows up he is going +to find that there are still dragons and ogres and assorted monsters +roaming the world. We want him to be instrumental in killing them. We +don't want him to get clawed by going forward in foolishly overconfident +forays. + +There is the Tammany Tiger, for instance. Here and there a brave young +fellow rises up and says, "I'm going to kill the Tiger." Having read the +fairy stories, he thinks that the thing can be done by a little courage +mixed with magic. He paints REFORM on a banner, charges ahead before +anybody but the Tiger is ready and gets chewed up. + +This is sentimentally appealing, but it has been a singularly useless +system of ridding the city of the Tiger. I want H. 3d to know better and +to act not only more wisely but more successfully. Somewhere in the +story I plan to work in a paraphrase of something Emerson once said. +Jack's last words to his army just before climbing the beanstalk will +be, "If you strike a giant you must kill him." + + + + +XXVIII + +VOLSTEAD AND CONVERSATION + + +There is one argument in favor of Prohibition. It certainly helps to +make conversation on a railroad train. In the years before Volstead we +had ridden thousands of miles silently peering at the two strangers +across the smoking compartment and wondering how to get them talking. +The weather is overrated as a common starting point. It dies after a +sentence. + +Now we have a sure method. Begin with, "Well, this is certainly just the +day for a little shot of something," and you will find enough +conversation on hand to carry you across the continent. Indeed, nothing +but an ocean can stop it. + +Some day, of course, we are going to run into a stranger who will reply, +"Prohibition is now the national law of our land and I want you to know, +sir, that I intend to respect it." + +This has never happened yet. It makes us wonder how the drys get from +point to point. Either they stay at home, abstain from smoking or betray +their cause for the sake of friendliness. During two years of frequent +travel we have never yet met an advocate of Prohibition in a smoking +compartment. + +There was nothing but the most fiery opposition on the part of the man +who was going to Rochester. + +"It's making criminals out of us," he declared severely but with an ill +concealed joy at the thought of being at last, in ripe middle age, a +law-breaker. He carried us into Albany with tales of men who "never +touched a drop until they went and passed that there law." All these +belated roisterers he pictured as reeling in and out of his office under +the visible effects of illegal stimulation. He sought to create the +impression that he thought the condition terrible, but evidently it had +contributed a new and exciting factor to the wholesale fruit business. +Even the pre-Volstead drinkers he seemed to find not unworthy of his +concern. All of them used to take just one and stop. Now his life was +beset with roaring graybeards. + +Leaving Albany, the young man in the check suit took up the talk and +began a vivid account of recent experiences in Malone, N. Y., which he +identified as the strategic point in bootlegging activities. Opening on +a note of pathos, in which he wrung the hearts of his hearers by +recounting the amazingly low price of Scotch near the border, he +introduced a merrier mood by relating a conversation between two farmers +of the section which he had overheard. + +"What style of car have you got?" asked one of the men in the allegedly +veracious anecdote. + +"Twenty cases," replied the other laconically. + +According to the estimate of the narrator, a bootlegger passes through +Malone every eight minutes. He saw one take a turn into Main Street +careening along at fifty miles an hour and skid so dangerously that the +auto tipped, throwing a case of whiskey clear across the road. "He went +out of town making seventy," added the story teller. + +Invariably the bootlegger was the hero of his tales. These modern Robin +Hoods he pictured as little brothers to all the world except the revenue +officers. Once two revenooers caught one of the gallant company and were +about to proceed with him to Syracuse, toting along four telltale +barrels of rye. But they had gone only a short distance on their journey +when they were overtaken by two men in a motor truck escorting a +prisoner, heavily manacled, and ten barrels of whiskey. After a short +confab they agreed to relieve the revenuers of their prisoner and +deliver both miscreants to the proper authorities in Syracuse. The +gullible agents of the law gave up their man. + +"And," continued the rum romancer, "they never did show up at Syracuse +at all. That second crowd they weren't revenue men at all. They were +bootleggers." + +Indeed, the young man declared that in Northern New York there is a well +organized Bootleggers' Union, which pays all fines out of a common fund. +So great was his seeming admiration for the rum runners that we +suspected him of being himself a member in good standing, but soon we +were moved to identify him as a participant in a trade still more +sinister. An acquaintance came past the green curtain and inquired +eagerly, "Did you sell her?" + +"Twice," said the young man enthusiastically and without regard to our +look of horror as we were moved by circumstantial evidence to believe +him not only a white slaver but a dishonest one. + +"Yes," he continued. "I had my work cut out. You see he doesn't like +Nazimova." + +We were a little sorry to find that the young man was a motion picture +salesman. It made us fear that perhaps some of his bootlegging yarns had +been colored with the ready fiction of his business. Still it was +interesting to sit and learn that Niagara Falls got "Camille" for only +$300. + +The middle-aged man, the one with the large acquaintance among belated +drunkards, seemingly had little interest when the conversation turned +from bootlegging to the silver screen. We never did hear what business +"The Sheik" did in Albany because he was roaring at a skeptic about +cabbage. + +"I tell you," he shouted, "they got 110 tons off of every acre." + +Now we yield to no man in love of cabbage, but we should not find such +quantities appealing. It would compel corn beef commitments beyond the +point of comfort. + +The skeptic made some timid observation about onions. We did not catch +whether it was for or against. + +"Do you know," said the cabbage king, "that 75 per cent. of all the +onions in America are eaten by Jews?" He said it with rancor, whether +racial or vegetable we could not determine. To us it seemed an unusual +tribute to an ancient people. No other story of their executive capacity +had ever seemed to us quite so convincing. We marveled at the +extraordinary coöperation which could hold a habit so precisely to an +average easy to compute and remember. + +We were also moved to admiration for the census takers. Statistics seem +to us man's supreme triumph in solving the mysteries of a chaotic world. +Creation, of course, was divine, but even that did not involve +bookkeeping. + +For a time we considered abandoning our project to write a novel about a +newspaper man and his son and make it, instead, a pastoral about a hero +simple and sincere whose life was dedicated to the task of determining +the ultimate destination of every onion raised in America. Then, since +art ought to be international, we planned to widen the scope of the tale +and include Bermuda. This would enable us to develop a tropical love +interest and get a sex appeal into the story. We are not sure that a +book would have a wide sale on onions alone. + +Of course other vegetables might enter the story. There could be a +villain forever tempting the hero to abandon his career and go after +parsnips. Titles simply flooded our mind. We thought of "Desperate +Steaks," "Out of the Frying Pan" and "A Bed of Onions," although we had +a vague impression that W. L. George had done something of this sort in +one of his earlier novels. "Breath Control" we dismissed as too +frivolous. "Smothered" was too sensational. + +Eventually we abandoned the whole project. We feared that we might not +be up to the atmosphere of an onion novel. + +Still, the advertising might be very effective if the publisher could +be induced to bill the book under a great, flaring headline, "The Onion +Forever." + +But the train of thought was cut short when the demon vegetable +statistician got up and said, "If I could have just one wish in the +world, I'd choose a fruit farm between here and Lockport." Looking up to +see where "here" was, we observed the Rochester station. The trip had +seemed but a moment, and all because of Prohibition. + +By the way, did you know that 14.72 per cent, of all the potatoes raised +in America come from Maine? + + + + +XXIX + +LIFE, THE COPY CAT + + +Every evening when dusk comes in the Far West, little groups of men may +be observed leaving the various ranch houses and setting out on +horseback for the moving picture shows. They are cowboys and they are +intent on seeing Bill Hart in Western stuff. They want to be taken out +of the dull and dreary routine of the world in which they live. + +But somehow or other the films simply cannot get very far away from +life, no matter how hard or how fantastically they try. As we have +suggested, the cowboy who struts across the screen has no counterpart in +real life, but imitation is sure to bridge the gap. Young men from the +cattle country, after much gazing at Hart, will begin to be like him. +The styles which the cowboys are to wear next year will be dictated this +fall in Hollywood. + +It has generally been recognized that life has a trick of taking color +from literature. Once there were no flappers and then F. Scott +Fitzgerald wrote "This Side of Paradise" and created them in shoals. +Germany had a fearful time after the publication of Goethe's "Werther" +because striplings began to contract the habit of suicide through the +influence of the book and went about dying all over the place. And all +Scandinavia echoed with slamming doors for years just because Ibsen sent +Nora out into the night. In fact the lock on that door has never worked +very well since. When "Uncle Tom's Cabin" was written things came to +such a pass that a bloodhound couldn't see a cake of ice without jumping +on it and beginning to bay. + +If authors and dramatists can do so much with their limited public, +think of the potential power of the maker of films, who has his tens of +thousands to every single serf of the writing man. The films can make us +a new people and we rather think they are doing it. Fifteen years ago +Americans were contemptuous of all Latin races because of their habit of +talking with gestures. It was considered the part of patriotic dignity +to stand with your hands in your pockets and to leave all expression, if +any, to the voice alone. + +Watch an excited American to-day and you will find his gestures as +sweeping as those of any Frenchman. As soon as he is jarred in the +slightest degree out of calm he immediately begins to follow +subconscious promptings and behave like his favorite motion picture +actor. Nor does the resemblance end necessarily with mere externals. +Hiram Johnson, the senator from California, is reported to be the most +inveterate movie fan in America, and it is said that he never takes +action on a public question without first asking himself, "What would +Mary Pickford do under similar circumstances?" In other words the +senator's position on the proposal to increase the import tax on +nitrates may be traced directly to the fact that he spent the previous +evening watching "Little Lord Fauntleroy." + +Even the speaking actors, most contemptuous of all motion picture +critics, are slaves of the screen. At an audible drama in a theater the +other day we happened to see a young actor who had once given high +promise of achievement in what was then known as the legitimate. +Eventually he went into motion pictures, but now he was back for a short +engagement. We were shocked to observe that he tried to express every +line he uttered with his features and his hands regardless of the fact +that he had words to help him. He spoke the lines, but they seemed to +him merely incidental. We mean that when his part required him to say, +"It is exactly nineteen minutes after two," he tried to do it by +gestures and facial expression. This is a difficult feat, particularly +as most young players run a little fast or a little slow and are rather +in need of regulating. When the young man left the theater at the close +of the performance we sought him out and reproached him bitterly on the +ground of his bad acting. + +"Where do you get that stuff?" we asked. + +"In the movies," he admitted frankly enough. + +There was no dispute concerning facts. We merely could not agree on the +question of whether or not it was true that he had become a terrible +actor. Life came into the conversation. Something was said by somebody +(we can't remember which one of us originated it) about holding the +mirror up to nature. The actor maintained that everyday common folk +talked and acted exactly like characters in the movies whenever they +were stirred by emotion. We made a bet and it was to be decided by what +we observed in an hour's walk. At the southwest corner of Thirty-seventh +street and Third avenue, we came upon two men in an altercation. One had +already laid a menacing hand upon the coat collar of the other. We +crowded close. The smaller man tried to shake himself loose from the +grip of his adversary. And he said, "Unhand me." He had met the movies +and he was theirs. + +The discrepancy in size between the two men was so great that my actor +friend stepped between them and asked, "What's all this row about?" The +big man answered: "He has spoken lightly of a woman's name." + +That was enough for us. We paid the bet and went away convinced of the +truth of the actor's boast that the movies have already bent life to +their will. At first it seemed to us deplorable, but the longer we +reflected on the matter the more compensations crept in. + +Somehow or other we remembered a tale of Kipling's called "The Finest +Story In The World," which dealt with a narrow-chested English clerk, +who, by some freak or other, remembered his past existences. There were +times when he could tell with extraordinary vividness his adventures on +a Roman galley and later on an expedition of the Norsemen to America. He +told all these things to a writer who was going to put them into a book, +but before much material had been supplied the clerk fell in love with a +girl in a tobacconist's and suddenly forgot all his previous +existences. Kipling explained that the lords of life and death simply +had to step in and close the doors of the past as soon as the young man +fell in love because love-making was once so much more glorious than now +that we would all be single if only we remembered. + +But love-making is likely to have its renaissance from now on since the +movies have come into our lives. Douglas Fairbanks is in a sense the +rival of every young man in America. And likewise no young woman can +hope to touch the fancy of a male unless she is in some ways more +fetching than Mary Pickford. In other words, pace has been provided for +lovers. For ten cents we can watch courtship being conducted by experts. +The young man who has been to the movies will be unable to avail himself +of the traditional ineptitude under such circumstances. Once upon a time +the manly thing to do was mumble and make a botch of it. The movies have +changed all that. Courtship will come to have a technique. A young man +will no more think of trying to propose without knowing how than he +would attempt a violin concert without ever having practiced. The +phantom rivals of the screen will be all about him. He must win to +himself something of their fire and gesture. Love-making is not going to +be as easy as it once was. Those who have already wed before the +competition grew so acute should consider themselves fortunate. Consider +for instance the swain who loves a lady who has been brought up on the +picture plays of Bill Hart. That young man who hopes to supplant the +shadow idol will have to be able to shoot Indians at all ranges from +four hundred yards up, and to ride one hundred thousand miles without +once forgetting to keep his face to the camera. + + + + +XXX + +THE ORTHODOX CHAMPION + + +The entire orthodox world owes a debt to Benny Leonard. In all the other +arts, philosophies, religions and what nots conservatism seems to be +crumbling before the attacks of the radicals. A stylist may generally be +identified to-day by his bloody nose. Even in Leonard's profession of +pugilism the correct method has often been discredited of late. + +It may be remembered that George Bernard Shaw announced before "the +battle of the century" that Carpentier ought to be a fifty to one +favorite in the betting. It was the technique of the Frenchman which +blinded Shaw to the truth. Every man in the world must be in some +respect a standpatter. The scope of heresy in Shaw stops short of the +prize ring. His radicalism is not sufficiently far reaching to crawl +through the ropes. When Carpentier knocked out Beckett with one +perfectly delivered punch he also jarred Shaw. He knocked him loose from +some of his cynical contempt for the conventions. Mr. Shaw might +continue to be in revolt against the well-made play, but he surrendered +his heart wholly to the properly executed punch. + +But Carpentier, the stylist, fell before Dempsey, the mauler, in spite +of the support of the intellectuals. It seemed once again that all the +rules were wrong. Benny Leonard remains the white hope of the orthodox. +In lightweight circles, at any rate, old-fashioned proprieties are still +effective. No performer in any art has ever been more correct than +Leonard. He follows closely all the best traditions of the past. His +left hand jab could stand without revision in any textbook. The manner +in which he feints, ducks, sidesteps and hooks is unimpeachable. The +crouch contributed by some of the modernists is not in the repertoire of +Leonard. He stands up straight like a gentleman and a champion and is +always ready to hit with either hand. + +His fight with Rocky Kansas at Madison Square Garden was advertised as +being for the lightweight championship of the world. As a matter of fact +much more than that was at stake. Spiritually, Saint-Saens, Brander +Matthews, Henry Arthur Jones, Kenyon Cox, and Henry Cabot Lodge were in +Benny Leonard's corner. His defeat would, by implication, have given +support to dissonance, dadaism, creative evolution and bolshevism. Rocky +Kansas does nothing according to rule. His fighting style is as formless +as the prose of Gertrude Stein. One finds a delightfully impromptu +quality in Rocky's boxing. Most of the blows which he tries are +experimental. There is no particular target. Like the young poet who +shot an arrow into the air, Rocky Kansas tosses off a right hand swing +every once and so often and hopes that it will land on somebody's jaw. + +But with the opening gong Rocky Kansas tore into Leonard. He was gauche +and inaccurate but terribly persistent. The champion jabbed him +repeatedly with a straight left which has always been considered the +proper thing to do under the circumstances. Somehow or other it did not +work. Leonard might as well have been trying to stand off a rhinoceros +with a feather duster. Kansas kept crowding him. In the first clinch +Benny's hair was rumpled and a moment later his nose began to bleed. The +incident was a shock to us. It gave us pause and inspired a sneaking +suspicion that perhaps there was something the matter with Tennyson +after all. Here were two young men in the ring and one was quite correct +in everything which he did and the other was all wrong. And the wrong +one was winning. All the enthusiastic Rocky Kansas partisans in the +gallery began to split infinitives to show their contempt for Benny +Leonard and all other stylists. Macaulay turned over twice in his grave +when Kansas began to lead with his right hand. + +But traditions are not to be despised. Form may be just as tough in +fiber as rebellion. Not all the steadfastness of the world belongs to +heretics. Even though his hair was mussed and his nose bleeding, Benny +continued faithful to the established order. At last his chance came. +The young child of nature who was challenging for the championship +dropped his guard and Leonard hooked a powerful and entirely orthodox +blow to the conventional point of the jaw. Down went Rocky Kansas. His +past life flashed before him during the nine seconds in which he +remained on the floor and he wished that he had been more faithful as a +child in heeding the advice of his boxing teacher. After all, the old +masters did know something. There is still a kick in style, and +tradition carries a nasty wallop. + + + + +XXXI + +WITH A STEIN ON THE TABLE + + +Half a League would be better than one. Perhaps a quarter section would +be still better. The thing that sank Mr. Wilson's project, so far as +America was concerned, was the machinery. It was too heavy. Not so much +was needed. The only essential thing was a large round table and a +pleasant room held under at least one year's lease. Of course, it should +have been the right sort of table. If they had put knives and forks and, +better yet, glasses upon the one in Paris, instead of ink and paper, we +might already have a better world. Beer and light wines can settle +subjects which defy all the subtleties possible to ink. + +What the world needs, then, is not so much a league as an international +beer night to be held at regular intervals by representatives of the +nations. Good beer and enough of it would have settled the whole problem +of the covenants which were going to be open and did not turn out that +way. The little meetings would have a persuasive privacy, and yet they +would not be secret to any destructive extent. An alert reporter hanging +about the front door could not fail to hear the strains of "He's a jolly +good fellow" drifting down the stairs from the conference room and, if +he were a journalist of any ability, he would have no difficulty in +surmising that the crowd was entertaining the delegate from Germany and +discussing indemnities. + +Some persons were not quite fair in criticizing the shortcomings of +President Wilson at Paris. It was easy to seize upon "open covenants" +and to demolish his sincerity by pointing out the secrecy with which +negotiations were carried on. It is sentimentally satisfying to every +liberal and radical in the world to declare that all the walls should +have come down and to continue this criticism by suggesting that the +Arms conference ought to have been taken out of the Pan American +Building and transferred to Tex Rickard's arena on Boyle's Thirty Acres, +or the Yale Bowl. The notion is fascinating because it permits the +possibility of cheering sections and enables one to picture Henry Cabot +Lodge leaping to his feet every now and again and asking all the men +with the R. R. banners (Reactionary Republicans) to join him in nine +long rahs for the freedom of the seas. The delegates, of course, would +be numbered so that the spectators could tell who was doing the kicking. + +It is appealing and we wish it could be done that way, but it is not +sound. We all know how bitter and destructive are legal battles which +have their first hearing in the newspapers. We also remember how +tenacious have been many of the struggles between capital and labor just +so long as the leaders of either side were talking to each other across +eight-column headlines instead of a table. + +One may counter by calling to mind various evil things which have come +to the world from the tops of tables, but we must insist again upon +stressing the point that these were not tables which supported food and +drink. In Paris various points were lost to democracy because the +supporters of the right were outstayed by the champions of evil. In our +little club room it would be hard to put such pressure upon anybody. He +would need to do no more than shout for the waiter to fill up his mug +again and intrench himself for the evening. The most attractive thing +about our suggestion is that though it sounds like frivolous foolery it +actually is nothing of the sort. We are willing to accept modifications, +but the scheme would work. We have seen the pacifying effects of food +and drink upon warring factions too many times not to respect them. + +Once, at a dinner we heard Max Eastman talk across a table to Judge Gary +and both enjoyed it. We do not mean to suggest that the two men arose +with all their previous ideas of the conduct of the world changed. Judge +Gary did not offer, in spite of the eloquence of Eastman, to curtail the +working day in the mills of the United States Steel Company, nor did the +editor of _The Liberator_ promise that thereafter he would be more +kindly disposed in writing about universal military training. But both +men were disposed to listen. Gary did not rush to the telephone to +summon a Federal attorney, and there was no disposition on the part of +Eastman to call the proletariat up into immediate arms. The most +friendly thing which anybody ever said about Mr. Wilson's League of +Nations came from those opponents of the scheme who called it "nothing +but a debating society." + +Talk is lint for the wounds of the world. The guns cannot begin until +the statesmen have had their say. Any device which provides a pleasant +place and an audience for the orators in power is distinctly a move to +end war. The trouble with ultimatums is not only that they are ugly but +that they are short. If certain gentlemen from Serbia could have been +brought face to face with other gentlemen from Austria and empowered to +thrash it out the dispute between the two nations would by no means be +settled by now, but it would still be in a talking stage. + +Arguments must be fostered and preserved. It may be a little tiresome to +hear premiers saying, "Is that so?" to one another, but the satisfaction +derived from such exchanges is enough to keep the conflicting parties +from seeking a blood restoration of national egos. Food and drink are +not only the greatest instigators but the best preservers of free speech +in the world. Undoubtedly everybody in his time has heard some +toastmaster or other insult a prominent citizen a few feet away in a +manner which would be unsafe on the public highway and nothing has +happened. It has been passed off as something wholly suitable to the +occasion. As we listened to Max Eastman talk across the table to Judge +Gary we wondered whether anybody would have even thought for a moment of +sending Debs to jail if he had only had the good fortune to talk from +behind a barricade of knives and forks. These are the ultimate and most +effective weapons of all peaceful men. With one of each in front of him +even a revolutionist may bare his heart and still be safe from the +bayonets of the military. + +Of course, the value of the weapons is not unknown to the conservatives +as well. Many a rampant reformer has gone to Washington and has seen his +ideals drown one by one before his eyes in the soup. For years England +managed to muddle along with Ireland by inviting nationalists out to +dinner. With the spread and development of civilization the price of +pottage has gone up. To-day we can afford to laugh at poor ignorant and +deluded Jacob who let his pottage go for a mess of birthright. + +In the light of these admissions it would be impossible to contend that +all the ills of the world could be solved by the device of international +beer nights. Even well fed men are not perfect. Alcohol is benign, but +it does not canonize. Schemes would go on even over demitasses. There +would be stratagems and surprises. And yet to our mind the stratagem, +even of a statesman, can never be so potent for harm in the world as the +stratagem of a general. Diplomacy is an evil game, chiefly because it +has been so exclusive. Our little club would be large enough to admit +all the delegates of the world. The only house rule would be "No checks +cashed." + +We have no idea that the heart of man is not more important than his +stomach. The world will not be made over more closely to the heart's +desire until we are of a better breed. But while we are waiting, +friendly talks about a table may count for something. We might manage to +swap a groaning world for a groaning board. There is sanction for hope +in the words of the song. We know, don't we, that it's always fair +weather when good fellows get together with a stein on the table. All +America needs, then, to make the world safer for democracy is the stein +and the good fellows. + + + + +XXXII + +ART FOR ARGUMENT'S SAKE + + +All editors are divided into two parts. In one group are those who think +that anybody who can make a good bomb can undoubtedly fashion a great +sonnet. The members of the other class believe that if a man loves his +country he is necessarily well fitted to be a book reviewer. + +As a matter of fact, new terminology is coming into the business of +criticism. A few years ago the critic who was displeased with a book +called it "sensational" or "sentimental" or something like that. To-day +he would voice his disapproval by writing "Pro-German" or "Bolshevist." +Authors are no longer evaluated in terms of æsthetics, but rather from +the point of view of political economy. Indeed, to-day we have hardly +such a thing as good writers and bad writers. They have become instead +either "sound" or "dangerous." A sound author is one with whose views +you are in agreement. + +So tightly are the lines drawn that the criticism of the leading members +of each side can be accurately predicted in advance. Show me the cover +of a war novel, and let me observe that it is called "The Great Folly," +and I will guarantee to foreshadow with a high degree of accuracy just +what the critic of The New York _Times_ will say about it and also the +critic of _The Liberator_. Even if it happened to be called "The Glory +of Shrapnel," the guessing would be just as easy. + +The manner in which anybody says anything now whether in prose, verse, +music or painting is entirely secondary in the minds of all critical +publications. Reviewers look for motives. Symphonies are dismissed as +seditious, and lyrics are closely scanned to see whether or not their +rhythms are calculated to upset the established order without due +recourse to the ballot. Nor has this particular reviewer any intention +of suggesting that such activity is entirely vain and fanciful. He +remembers that only a month ago he began a thrilling adventure story +called "The Lost Peach Pit," only to discover, when he was half through, +that it was a tract in favor of a higher import duty on potash. + +A vivid novel about the war by John Dos Passos has been issued under the +title "Three Soldiers." One of the chief characters was a creative +musician who broke under the rigor of army discipline which was +repugnant to him. Nobody who wrote about the book undertook to discuss +whether or not the author had painted a persuasive picture of the +struggle in the soul of a credible man. Instead they argued as to just +what proportion of men in the American army were discontented, and the +final critical verdict is being withheld until statistics are available +as to how many of them were musicians. Those who disliked the book did +not speak of Mr. Dos Passos as either a realist or a romanticist. They +simply called him a traitor and let it go at that. The enthusiasts on +the other side neglected to say anything about his style because they +needed the space to suggest that he ought to be the next candidate for +president from the Socialist party. + +Speaking as a native-born American (Brooklyn--1888) who once voted for a +Socialist for membership in the Board of Aldermen, the writer must admit +that he has found the radical solidarity of critical approval or dissent +more trying than that of the conservatives. Again and again he has +found, in _The Liberator_ and elsewhere, able young men, who ought to +know better, praising novels for no reason on earth except that they +were radical. If the novelist said that life in a middlewestern town was +dreary and evil he was bound to be praised by the socialist reviewers. +On the other hand, any author who found in this same middle west a +community or an individual not hopelessly stunted in mind and in morals, +was immediately scourged as a viciously sentimental observer who had +probably been one of the group which fixed upon the nomination of +President Harding late at night behind the locked doors of a little room +in a big hotel. + +The enthusiasm of the radical critics extends not only to rebels against +existing governmental principles and moral conventions, but to all those +who dare to write in any new manner. There seems to be a certain +confusion whereby free verse is held to be a movement in the direction +of free speech. + +Novels which begin in the middle and work first forward and then back, +win favor as blows against the bourgeois idea that a straight line is +the shortest distance between two points. Of course, the radical author +can do almost anything the conservative does and still retain the +admiration of his fellows by dint of a very small amount of tact. +Rhapsodies on love will be damned as sentimental if the author has been +injudicious enough to allow his characters to marry, but he can retain +exactly the same language if he is careful to add a footnote that +nothing is contemplated except the freest of free unions. A few works +are praised by both sides because each finds a different interpretation +for the same set of facts. Thus, the authors of "Dulcy" were surprised +to find themselves warmly greeted in one of the Socialist dailies as +young men who had struck a blow for government ownership of all +essential industries merely because they had introduced a big business +man into their play and, for the purposes of comic relief, had made him +a fool. + +Class consciousness has become so acute that it extends even beyond the +realms of literature and drama into the field of sports. The recent +"battle of the century" eventually simmered down into the minds of many +as a struggle between the forces of reaction and revolution. It was +known before the fight that Carpentier would wear a flowered silk +bathrobe into the ring, while Dempsey would be clad in an old red +sweater. How could symbolism be more perfect? Anybody who believed that +Carpentier's right would be good enough to win, was immediately set down +as a profiteer in munitions who would undoubtedly welcome the outbreak +of another war. Likewise it was unsafe to express the opinion that +Dempsey's infighting might be too much for the Frenchman, lest one be +identified with the little willful group of pacifists who impeded the +progress of the war. Eventually, the startling revelation was made by +the reporter of a morning newspaper that he had seen Carpentier smelling +a rose. After that, any belief in the invader's prowess laid whoever +expressed it open to the charge, not only of aristocracy, but of +degeneracy as well. After Dempsey's blows wore down his opponent and +defeated him, it was generally felt by his supporters that the +eight-hour day was safe, and that the open shop would never be generally +accepted in America. + +The only encouraging feature in the increasingly sharp feeling of class +consciousness among critics is a growing frankness. Reviewers are +willing to admit now that they think so and so's novel is an indifferent +piece of work because he speaks ill of conscription and they believe in +it. A year or so ago they would have pretended that they did not like it +because the author split some infinitives. + +One of the frankest writing men we ever met is the editor of a Socialist +newspaper. "Whenever there's a big strike," he explained to me, "I +always tell the man who goes out on the story, 'Never see a striker hit +a scab. Always see the scab hit the striker.'" + +"You see," he went on, "there are seven or eight other newspapers in +town who will see it just the other way and I've got to keep the balance +straight." + +There used to be a practice somewhat similar to this among baseball +umpires. Whenever the man behind the plate felt that he had called a +bad ball a strike, he would bide his time until the next good one came +over and that he would call a ball. The practice was known as "evening +up" and it is no longer considered efficient workmanship. That is, not +among umpires. The radical editor was not in the least abashed when I +quoted to him the remark of a man who said that he always read his paper +with great interest because he invariably found the editorial opinions +in the news and the news on the editorial page. "That's just what I'm +trying to do," he exclaimed delightedly. "I'm not trying to give the +people the news. I'm trying to make new Socialists every day." + +It is to be feared that even those writers who have the opportunity to +be more deliberate than the journalists have been struck with the idea +that by words they can shape the world a little closer to the heart's +desire. Throughout the war we were told so constantly that battles could +be decided and ships built and wars decided by the force of propaganda, +that every man with a portable typewriter in his suitcase began to think +of it as a baton. There was a day when a novelist was satisfied if he +could capture a little slice of life and get it between the covers of +his book. Now everybody writes to shake the world. The smell of +propaganda is unmistakable. + +With literature in its present state of mind critics cannot be expected +to watch and wait for the great American novel or the great American +play. Instead they look for the book which made the tariff possible, or +the play which ended the steel strike. + + + + +XXXIII + +NO 'RAHS FOR RAY + + +Richard Le Gallienne was lamenting, once, that he probably would never +be able to write a best-seller like Hall Caine or Marie Corelli. "It's +no use," he said. "You can't fake it. Bad writing is a gift." + +So is college spirit. That is why almost all the plays and motion +pictures about football games and hazing and such like are so fearfully +unconvincing. Nobody who is hired for money can possibly make the same +joyful ass of himself as a collegian under strictly amateur momentum. +Expense has not been spared, nor pains, in the building of "Two Minutes +To Go," with the delightful Charlie Ray, but it just isn't real. Films +may be faithful enough in depicting such trifling emotions as hate and +passion and mother-love, but the feeling which animates the freshman +when Yale has the ball on the three-yard line is something a little too +searing and sacred for the camera's eye. + +One of the difficulties of catching any of this spirit for play or for +picture is that there is no logical reason for its existence. Logic +won't touch it. The director and his entire staff would all have to be +inspired to be able to make a college picture actually glow. There is +not that much inspiration in all Hollywood. + +The partisanship of the big football games has always been to me one of +the most mystifying features in American life. It is all the more +mystifying from the fact that it grips me acutely twice a year when +Harvard plays Princeton, and again when we play Yale. I find no +difficulty in being neutral about Bates of Middlebury. It did not even +worry me much when Georgia scored a touchdown. The encounters with Yale +and Princeton are not games but ordeals. Of course, there is no sense to +it. A victory for Harvard or a defeat makes no striking difference in +the course of my life. My job goes on just the same and the servants +will stay, and there will be a furnace and food even if the Crimson is +defeated by many touchdowns. + +I never played on a Harvard eleven, nor even had a relative on any of +the teams. There was a second cousin on the scrub, but he was before my +time, and it cannot be that all my interest has been drummed up by his +career. I don't know the coaches nor the players. Yale and Princeton +have not wronged me. In fact, I once sold an article to a Yale man who +is now conducting a magazine in New York. Naturally it was on a neutral +subject, which happened to be the question of whether mothers were any +more skillful than fathers in handling children. Orange and black are +beautiful colors and "Old Nassau" is a stirring tune. Woodrow Wilson +meant well at Paris, and Big Bill Edwards was as pleasant-spoken a +collector of income taxes as I ever expect to meet. + +Yet all this is forgotten when the teams run out on to the gridiron. I +find myself yelling "Block that kick! Block that kick! Block that kick!" +or "Touchdown! Touchdown!" as if my heart would break. It is pretty +lucky that the old devil who bought Faust's soul has never come along +and tempted me in the middle of a football game. He could drive a good +bargain cheap. There have been times when for nothing more than a five +yard gain through the center of the line he could have had not only my +soul, but a third mortgage on the house. If he played me right he might +even get that recipe for making near beer closer. + +The strangest part of all this is that the emotions described are not +exceptional. A number of sane persons have assured me that they feel +just the same about the big games. One of my best friends in college was +always known to us as "the brother of the man who dropped the punt." The +man who actually committed that dire deed was not even mentioned. I +remember, also, a Harvard captain whose team lost and who horrified the +entire university by remarking at the team dinner a few weeks later that +he was always going to look back on the season with pleasure because he +thought that he and the rest of the players had had good fun, even +though they had lost to Yale. Naturally he was never allowed to return +to Cambridge after his graduation. His unfortunate remark came a few +years before the passage of the sedition law, but there was a militant +public opinion in the college fully capable of taking care of such +cases. + +Feeling, then, as I do, that there is no such poignant ordeal possible +to man as sitting through a tight Harvard-Yale game, any screen story +of football seems not only piffling but sacrilegious. In the Charlie Ray +picture, the two contending teams were Stanley and Baker. There were +views of the rival cheering sections and closer ones of Charlie Ray +running the length of the gridiron for a touchdown. This feat was made +somewhat easy for him by the fact that all the extra people engaged for +the picture seemed to have been instructed to slap him lightly above the +knee with the little finger of the right hand and then fall upon their +faces so that he might step over them. + +It was not this palpable artificiality which was the most potent factor +in bringing me into an extreme state of calm. A long Harvard run made +possible by the entire Yale team's being struck by lightning would seem +to me thoroughly satisfactory. The trouble with "Two Minutes To Go" was +that I never forgot for a moment that Charlie Ray was a motion picture +star instead of a halfback. Of course, you might object that I should +properly have the same feeling when seeing Ray in pictures where he is +engaged in altercations with holdup men and other scoundrels. That is +different. In such situations the stratagems of the films are amply +convincing, but in football nobody can possibly play the villain so +effectively as a Yaleman. We have often wondered how one university +could possibly corner the entire supply of treacherous and beetle-browed +humanity. + +The foemen lined up against Charlie Ray didn't begin to be fierce +enough. Nor did the rival groups of rooters serve any better to convince +me of their authenticity. It was quite evident that they were swayed by +no emotion other than that of a willingness to obey the orders of the +director. Football is too warm and passionate a thing to be reduced to +the flat dimensions of the screen. Battle, murder, sudden death and many +other things are done amply well in films. Football is different. Though +it injure the heart, increase the blood pressure and shorten life, only +the reality will do. + + + + +XXXIV + +"ATABOY!" + + +Thomas Burke has a cultivated taste for low life and he records his +delight in Limehouse so vividly that it is impossible to doubt his +sincerity. In his volume of essays called "Out and About London," he +spreads his enthusiasm over the entire "seven hundred square miles of +London, in which adventure is shyly lurking for those who will seek her +out." + +In the spreading there is at least ground for suspicion that here and +there authentic enthusiasm has worn a bit thin. It is no more than a +suspicion, for Burke is a skillful writer who can set an emotion to +galloping without showing the whip. Only when he comes to describe a +baseball game is the American reader prepared to assert roundly that +Burke is merely parading an enthusiasm which he does not feel. We could +not escape the impression that the English author felt that a baseball +game was the most primitive thing America had to offer and that he was +in duty bound to enthuse over this exhibition of human nature in the +raw. + +We have seen many Englishmen at baseball games. We have even attempted +to explain to a few visitors the fine points of the game, why John +McGraw spoke in so menacing a manner to the umpire or why Hughie +Jennings ate grass and shouted "Ee-Yah!" at the batter. Invariably the +Englishman has said that it was all very strange and all very +delightful. Never have we believed him. The very essence of nationality +lies in the fact that the other fellow's pastime invariably seems a +ridiculous affair. One may accept the cookery, the politics and the +religion of a foreign nation years before he will take an alien game to +his heart. We doubt whether it would be possible to teach an American to +say "Well played" in less than a couple of generations. + +Burke has no fears. Not only does he describe the game in a general way, +but he plunges boldly ahead in an effort to record American slang. The +title of the essay is well enough. Burke calls it "Atta-boy!" This is, +of course, authentic American slang. It meets all the requirements, +being in common use, having a definite meaning and affording a short cut +to the expression of this meaning. We can not quite accept the spelling. +There is, perhaps, room for controversy here. When the American army +first came to France the word attracted a good deal of attention and +some French philologists undertook to follow it to the source. One of +them quickly discovered that he was dealing not with a word but a +contracted phrase. We are of the opinion that thereafter he went astray, +for he declared that "Ataboy" was a contraction of "At her boy," and he +offered the freely translated substitute "Au travail garçon." + +It will be observed that Mr. Burke has given his attaboy a "t" too many. +"That's the boy" is the source of the word. Perhaps it would be more +accurately spelled if written "'at 'a boy." The single "a" is a neutral +vowel which has come to take the place of the missing "the." The same +process has occurred in the popular phrases "'ataswingin'" and +"'ataworkin'." These, however, have a lesser standing. "Ataboy" is +almost official. One of the American army trains which ran regularly +from Paris to Chaumont began as the Atterbury special, being named after +the general in charge of railroads. In a week it had become the Ataboy +special, and so it remained even in official orders. + +Some of the slang which Burke records as being observed at the game is +palpably inaccurate. Thus he reports hearing a rooter shout, "Take orf +that pitcher!" It is safe to assume that what the rooter actually said +was, "Ta-ake 'im out!" + +Again Burke writes, "An everlasting chorus, with reference to the +scoring board, chanted like an anthem--'Go-ing up! Go-ing up! Go-ing +up!'" + +Now, as a matter of fact, the "go-ing up!" did not refer to the scoring +board, but to the pitcher who must have been manifesting signs of losing +control. The shouts of baseball crowds are so closely standardized that +we think we have a right to view with a certain distrust such unfamiliar +snatches of slang as "He's pitching over a plate in heaven," or "Gimme +some barb' wire. I wanter knit a sweater for the barnacle on second," +and also, "Hey, catcher, quit the diamond, and lemme l'il brother teach +you." It is impossible for us to reconcile "lemme l'il brother" and +"quit the diamond." + +It must be said in justice to Burke that it is entirely possible that +he did hear some of the outlandish phrases which he has jotted down. +Among the dough-boys gathered for the game there may have been some +former college professor who had devoted the afternoon to convincing his +comrades that he was no highbrow, but a typical American. Such a theory +would account for "quit the diamond." + + + + +XXXV + +HOW TO WIN MONEY AT THE RACES---- + + +Perseverance, courage, acumen, unceasing vigilance, hard work and +application are all required of the man who would win money at the +races. He should also have some capital in easily marketable securities. + +During his preliminary days at the university, the man who would win +money on the races should specialize in science. It will be quite +impossible for him in his later career to tell whether his selection was +beaten by a nose or a head, unless he is absolutely familiar with the +bone structure of the horse (Equidoe), (Ungulate), (E. caballus). In +freshman zoölogy he will learn that, at the highest, the teeth number +forty-four, and that the horse as a domestic animal dates from +prehistoric times. This will serve to explain to him the character of +the entries in some of the selling races. + +Geology will make it possible for him to distinguish between +"track--slow" and "track--muddy." The romance languages need not be +avoided. French will enable the student to ask the price on Trompe La +Morte without recourse to the subterfuge of "What are you laying on the +top one?" In spite of the amount of science required, the young man +will find that he has small need of mathematics. A working knowledge of +subtraction will suffice. + +As has been well said in many a commencement address, college is not the +end but merely the beginning of education. The graduate should begin his +intensive preparation not later than twelve hours before going to the +track. He will find that the first edition of _The Morning Telegraph_ is +out by midnight. Hindoo's selections are generally on page eight. I have +never known the identity of Hindoo, but there is internal evidence +pointing toward President Harding. At any rate, Hindoo is a man who has +mastered the pre-election style of the President. His good will to all +horses, black, brown and bay, is boundless. + +In studying Mr. Hindoo's advice concerning the first race at Belmont +Park last week, I found, "Captain Alcock--Last race seems to give him +the edge." If I had gone no further, my mind might have been easy, but +in chancing to look down the column I noted, "Servitor--Well suited +under the conditions"; "Pen Rose--Plainly the one that is to be feared"; +"Bellsolar--May be heard from if up to her last race." On such minute +examination the edge of Captain Alcock seemed to grow more blunt. +"Neddam," I discovered, "will bear watching," and "Hobey Baker may +furnish the surprise." To a man of scientific training such conflicting +testimony is disturbing. What for instance would the world have thought +of the scholarship of Aristotle if, after declaring that the earth was +spherical, he had added that it might be well to have a good place +bet--at two to one--on its being flat. + +As happens all too often in the swing away from science, mere emotion +was allowed to rush in unimpeded. Turning to a publication called _The +Daily Running Horse_, I found the section dealing with the first race to +be run at Belmont Park and read, "Captain Alcock is a nice horse right +now." That settled it. All too seldom in this world does one find an +individual who has the edge and still refrains from slashing about with +it and cutting people. Captain Alcock was represented to us as "nice" in +spite of the fact that he was "in with a second rate lot," as _The Daily +Running Horse_ went on to state. Later it seemed to us that the boast +was in bad taste, but this factor, which we recognized immediately after +the running of the first race as groundless condescension, appeared at +the time a rather fetching sort of democracy. Captain Alcock was willing +to associate with second raters and didn't even mind admitting it. + +The price was eleven to ten, and after we made our bet the bookmaker +revised his figures down to nine to ten. There was a thrill in having +been a party to "hammering down the price." Soon we were to wish that +Captain Alcock had been much less nice. Away from the barrier he went on +his journey of a mile with a lead of two lengths. Next it was four and +then five. His heels threw dust upon the second raters. Around the turn +came Captain Alcock flaunting his edge in every stride. As they +straightened out into the stretch the man behind us remarked, "Captain +Alcock will win in a common canter." + +The Captain was content to do no such thing. Although in with second +raters he remained a nice horse and he was willing to do nothing common +even for the sake of victory. He began to ease up in order to become +companionable with the field. Evidently he had felt unduly conspicuous +so far in front. Winning in a common canter was not cricket to his mind. +He wanted to make a race of it while there was still time. And as the +speed and the lead of Captain Alcock abated, down the stretch from far +in the rear dashed the black mare Bellsolar. Suddenly I remembered the +ominous words of Hindoo, "May be heard from if up to her last race." +Evidently Bellsolar was up. Captain Alcock was carrying the business of +being nice much too far. Before he could do anything about it, Bellsolar +was at his shoulders. She did not stop for greeting, but dashed past and +won before the genial Captain could begin sprinting again. + +As a matter of fact, it was not until the next day that I appreciated +just how much wisdom had been contained in _The Daily Running Horse_, +advice which I had neglected. Turning back to the first race I found, +"Advised play--None, too tough." If the tipster had only kept up that +pace throughout the afternoon all his followers would be winners at the +track. + + + + +XXXVI + +ONE TOUCH OF SLAPSTICK + + +The Duchess in _Clair de Lune_ implored her gentleman friend to speak to +her roughly, using hedge and highroad talk. Theatrical managers have now +come to realize that many of us who may never hope to be duchesses are +still swayed by this back to the soil movement. The humor of musical +comedy grows more robust as the season wanes. It is broader, thicker +and, to my mind, funnier. Comedy, like Antæus, must keep at least a +tiptoe on the earth. When the spirit of fun begins to sicken it is time +that he should be hit severely with a bladder. Having been knocked down, +he will rise refreshed. + +All of which is preliminary to the expression of the opinion that Jim +Barton, now playing at the Century, is the funniest clown who has +appeared in New York this season. Mr. Barton was discovered in a +burlesque show by some astute theatrical scout several seasons ago. +Burlesque was several rungs higher in the ladder than his starting +point, for his career included appearances in carnivals and the little +shows which ply up and down some of the rivers, giving nightly +performances on their boat whenever there is a cluster of light big +enough to indicate a village. Jim Barton has been trained, therefore, +in capturing the interest and attention of primitive and +unsophisticated theatergoers. This training has encouraged him in zest +and violence. It has impressed upon him the conception that the +fundamental appeal to all sorts of people and all sorts of intelligences +is rhythm. "When in doubt, dance" is his motto. + +Primarily he developed his dancing as something which should make people +laugh. It was, and is, full of stunts and grotesque movements and +surprising turns. But it has not remained just funny. Consciously or +unconsciously he knows, just as Charlie Chaplin knows, that funny things +must be savored with something else to capture interest completely. And +when you watch the antics of Barton and laugh there comes unexpectedly, +every now and then, a sudden tightening of the emotions as you realize +that some particular pose or movement is not funny at all, but a +gorgeously beautiful picture. For instance, when Barton begins his +skating dance the first reaction is one of amusement. There is a +recognizable burlesque of the traditional stunts of the man on ice, but +that is lost presently in the further realization that the thing is +amazingly skillful and graceful. Again he follows a Spanish dancer with +castanets and seems to depend upon nothing more than the easy laugh +accorded to the imitator, but as he goes on it isn't just a burlesque. +He has captured the whole spirit and rhythm of the dance. + +There is, perhaps, something of hypocrisy and swank in taking the +performance of Barton and seeming to imply, "Of course I like this man +because I see all sorts of things in his work that his old burlesque +audiences never recognized." It is dishonest, too, because as a matter +of fact I like exactly the same things which won his audiences in the +old Columbia circuit. I have never been able to steel myself against the +moment in which the comedian steps up behind the stout lady and slaps +her resoundingly between the shoulder blades. Jim Barton is particularly +good because he hits louder and harder than any other comedian I ever +saw. But even for this liking a defense is possible. The influx of +burlesque methods ought to have a thoroughly cleansing influence in +American musical comedy. More refined entertainment has often been +unpleasantly salacious, not because it was daring but because it was +cowardly. Familiar stories of the smoking car and the barroom have been +brought into Broadway theaters often enough, but in disguised form. They +have minced into the theater. The appeal created by this form of humor +has been never to the honest laugh but to the smirk. If I were a censor +I think I would allow a performer to say or do almost anything in the +theater if only he did it frankly and openly. The blue pencil ought to +be used only against furtive things. You may not like smut, but it is +never half so objectionable as shamefacedness. The best tonic I can +think of for the hangdog school of musical comedy to which we have fast +been drifting is the immediate importation to Broadway of fifty +comedians exactly like Jim Barton. Of course, the only trouble is that +the scouts would probably turn up with the report that there was not +even one. + +Still rumor is going about of at least one other. I am reliably +informed that Bobby Clark of _Peek-A-Boo_ is one of the funniest men of +the year. Unfortunately I am not in a position to make a first hand +report because on the night his show opened at the Columbia I was +watching _Mixed Marriage_ break into another theater, or attending a +revival of John Ferguson or something like that. + +Accordingly, I missed the scene in which Bobby Clark tries to put his +head into the lion's mouth. Clark must be a good comedian, because he +sounds funny even when you get him at second or third hand in the form, +"And then you see he says, 'You do it fine. You even smell like a lion. +Take off the head now and we'll get along.'" + +As it has been explained to me, Clark and the other comedian are hired +by a circus because the trained lion has suddenly become too ill to +perform. Clark's partner is to put on a lion's skin and pretend to be a +lion while Clark goes through the usual stunts of the trainer, including +the feat of putting his head into the lion's mouth. At the last minute +the lion recovers and is wheeled out on to the stage in a big cage. +Clark believes the animal is his partner in disguise and compliments him +warmly on the manner in which he roars. Finally, however, he becomes +irritated when there is no response, except a roar, to his request, +"Take off the head now and come on." After a second roar Clark remarks +with no little pique, "Come on, now, cut it out, you're not so good as +all that." + +What happens after that I don't know because the people who have been to +the Columbia Theater always leave you in doubt as to whether Clark +actually goes into the lion's den or not. Presumably not, because later +in the show, according to these reports, there is a drill by The World's +Worst Zouaves in which Clark as the chief zouave whistles continually +for new formations only to have nothing happen. Whether Clark is the +originator of the material about the lion and the rest, or only the +executor, I am not prepared to say. All the scouts talk as if he made it +up as he went along, and whenever a comedian can bring about that state +of mind there need be no doubt of his ability. + + + + +XXXVII + +DANGER SIGNALS FOR READERS + + +By this time, of course, we ought to know the danger signals in a novel +and realize the exact spot at which to come to a full stop. On page 54 +of "The Next Corner," by Kate Jordan, we found the situation in which +Robert, husband, came face to face with Elsie, wife, after a separation +of three years. Mining interests had called him to Burma, and she, being +given the world to choose from, had decided to live in Paris. He was +punctual at the end of his three years in arriving at his wife's +apartment, but she was not there. The maid informed him that she had +gone to a tea at the home of the Countess Longueval. Without stopping to +wait for an invitation John hurried after her. He entered the huge and +garish reception room and there, yes there, was Elsie. But perhaps Miss +Jordan had better tell it: + +"The effect she produced on him, in her yellow gauze, that though +fashioned for afternoon wear was so transparent it left a good deal of +her body visible, with her face undisguisedly tricked out and her +gleaming cigarette poised, was a harsh one--a marionette with whom +fashion was an idolatry; an over-decorated, empty eggshell. She could +feel this, and in a desperate way persisted in the affectation which +sustained her, the more so that under Robert's earnest gaze a feeling of +guilt made her hideously uncomfortable. + +"'Throw that away,' Robert said quietly with a scant look at the +cigarette." + +It seemed strange to us that Robert had been so little influenced toward +liberalism during his three years in Burma, for that was the spot where +Kipling's soldier found the little Burmese girl "a smokin' of a whackin' +big cheeroot." + +Still, Robert carried his point. Elsie, our heroine, gave a laugh. What +sort of a laugh, do you suppose? Quite so, "an empty laugh," and "she +turned to flick it from her fingers"; that is, the cigarette. Perhaps we +should add that she flicked it to "a table that held the smokers' +service." Elsie, undoubtedly, had degenerated during Robert's absence, +but she was still too much the lady to put ashes on the carpet. And yet +she did use cosmetics. This was the second thing which Robert took up +with her. In the cab he wanted to know why she put "all that stuff" on +her face. Perhaps her answer was a little perplexing, for she said, +"Embellishment, mon cher. Pour la beauté, pour la charme!" + +"I'm quite of the world in my tolerance," he explained to her. "If you +needed help of this sort and applied it delicately to your face I'd not +mind. In fact, if delicately done, probably I'd not know of it." + +This, of course, seems to us an immoral attitude. Things are right or +wrong, whether one notices them or not. After all, the recording angel +would know. Elsie could use paint and powder with such delicacy as to +deceive him. However, we are interrupting Robert, who went on, and "His +voice grew kinder, although his eyes remained sternly grave." + +"It's been from the beginning of the world," he said, "and it is in the +East, wherever there are women. But--and make a note of it--they are +always women of a certain sort." + +Seemingly, Robert got away with this statement, although it is not true. +Manchu women of the highest degree paint a great scarlet circle on the +side of their face in spite of the fact that there is a native proverb +which, freely translated, may be rendered, "Discretion is the better +part of pallor." + +It is only fair to add that the indiscretions of Elsie went beyond +powder and paint and even beyond smoking cigarettes. When her husband +told her that he must make a brief business trip to England she asked to +be excused from accompanying him on the ground that she would prefer to +remain in Paris for a while. As a matter of fact, she planned to go to +Spain. And she did. She went to a house party at the home of Don Arturo +Valda y Moncado, Marques de Burgos. She had been told that it was to be +a house party, but when she got to the isolated little castle on the top +of the crag she found no one but Don Arturo Valda y Moncado, Marques de +Burgos. No sooner had she arrived than a storm began to rage and the +last mule coach went down the mountain. She must stay the night! Still, +after her first wild pleadings that he allow her to clamber down the +mountain alone at night until she could find a hotel, reasonable in +price and respectable, she did not feel so lonely with Arturo. To be +sure, he sounded a good deal like a house party all by himself, and more +than that she loved him. + +After dinner he began to make love and soon she joined him. He grew +impassioned, and Elsie said that she would throw in her lot with his and +never leave him. In a transport of joy, Arturo was about to bestow upon +her one of those Spanish kisses which no novelist can round off in less +than a page and a half. Elsie commanded him to be patient. First, she +said, she must write a letter to her husband. In this moment Arturo was +superb in his Latin restraint. He did not suggest a cablegram or even a +special delivery stamp. Perhaps it would have meant death to go to the +postoffice on such a night. Elsie wrote to Robert, painstakingly and +frankly, confessing that she loved Arturo and was going to remain with +him and that she would not be home at all any more. Then a sure footed +serving man was intrusted with the letter and told to seek a post box on +the mountain side. + +No sooner was that out of the way than a Spanish peasant entered the +house and shot Arturo. It seems that Arturo had betrayed his daughter. +The shot killed Arturo and Elsie wished she had never sent the letter. +Unfortunately, you can't make your confession and eat it too. No +postscript was possible. Elsie staggered down the mountain side and a +chapter later she woke up in a hospital in Bordeaux. The strain had been +too great. + +Nor could we stand it either. We sought out somebody else who had +already read the book and he told us that Elsie went back to America and +found her husband, and that for months and months she lived in an agony +of shame, thinking he knew all about what had never happened. Finally +she decided that he didn't, and then she lived months and months in an +agony of fear that the letter was still on its way. She got up every +morning, opening everything feverishly and finding only bills and +advertisements. At this point the person who knew the story was +interrupted in telling us about it, but we think we can supply the end. + +After more months and months, in which first shame died and then fear, +hope was born. And then came happiness. The old hunted look faded from +the eyes of Elsie. She seemed a superbly normal woman, save in one +respect. During the political campaign of 1920, when practically every +visitor who came to the house would remark, at one time or other during +the course of the evening, "Don't you think this man Burleson is a +mess?" Elsie would look up with just the suggestion of a faint smile +about her fine, sensitive mouth and answer, "Oh, I don't know." + + + + +XXXVIII + +ADVENTURE MADE PAINLESS + + +One of my favorite characters in all fiction is D'Artagnan. He was +forever fighting duels with people and stabbing them, or riding at top +speed over lonely roads at night to save a woman's name or something. I +believe that I glory in D'Artagnan because of my own utter inability to +do anything with a sword. Beyond self-inflicted razor wounds, no blood +has been shed by me. Horseback riding is equally foreign to my +experience, and I have done nothing for any woman's name. And why should +I? D'Artagnan does all these things so much better that there is not the +slightest necessity for personal muddling. When he gallops I ride too, +clattering along at breakneck speed between ghostly lines of trees. Only +there is no ache in my legs the next morning. Nor heartache either over +heroines. + +He is my substitute in adventure. After an evening with him I can go +down to the office in the morning and go through routine work without +the slightest annoying consciousness that it is, after all, pretty dull +stuff. I am not tempted to put on my hat and coat and fling up my job in +order to go out to seek adventures with swordsmen and horses and +provocative ladies in black masks. + +Undoubtedly there must be some longing in me for all this or I would +not have such a keen interest in _The Three Musketeers_, but, having +read about it, there is no craving for actual deeds. Possibly, after a +long evening with a tale of adventure, I may swagger a little the next +day and puzzle a few office boys with a belligerent manner to which they +are not accustomed; but they do not fit into the picture perfectly +enough to maintain the mood. It has been satisfied, and when it begins +to tug again there are other books which will serve to gratify my keen +desire to hear the clink of blades and the sound of running footsteps on +the cobbles as the miscreants give way. The scurvy knaves! The system +saves time and expense and arnica. Without it I might not be altogether +reconciled to Brooklyn. + +In my opinion, most of the men and women whom I know find the same +relief in books and plays and motion pictures. The rather stout lady on +the floor below us has three small children. I imagine that they are a +fearful nuisance, but recently, after getting them to bed, she has been +reading "The Sheik." Her husband--he is one of these masterful men--told +me that he had glanced at the book himself and found it silly and highly +colored. He said that he was going to tell her to stop. I agreed with +him as to the silliness of the book, but it seemed to me that his wife +had earned her right to a fling on the desert. If I knew him a little +better, I would go on to say that it ought to comfort him to have his +wife reading such a highly flavored romance. He is excessively jealous, +and he ought to be pleased to have a possibly roving fancy so completely +occupied by an intense interest in an Arab chieftain who never +lived--no, not even in Arabia or any place at all outside the pages of a +book. The husband has no need to worry. There is no one in our +neighborhood who resembles Ben Ahmed Abdullah--or whatever his fool name +may be. + +Once, when my neighbor found me at the door of his apartment, where I +had gone to borrow half an orange, he seemed unusually surly. That was +certainly a groundless suspicion. At the time I was entirely absorbed in +"The Outline of History." Mrs. X--of course I can't give her name or +even provide any description which might serve to identify her--was +entirely safe from my attentions, for during that particular week I was +rather taken with Cleopatra, even though Wells did speak slightingly of +her. Unfortunately we have no adequate idea of Cleopatra's appearance. +Wells attempts no description. The only existing portrait is one of +those conventionalized Egyptian things with the arms held out stiffly as +if the siren of the Nile was trying to indicate to the clerk the size of +the shoe which she desired. Still, we can imply something from the +enthusiasm of Antony and the others. Somehow or other, I have always +felt sure that there was not the slightest resemblance between Cleopatra +and Mrs. X. + +Here is what I am trying to get at. Mr. X sells something or other, and +apparently nobody in New York wants it, which makes it necessary for him +to go on long journeys in which he touches Providence, Boston, New +Bedford, and Bangor. Practically all my evenings are spent at home. + +I have spoken of the stairs, but it is only a short flight. Mrs. X is +sentimental and I am romantic. And we are both quite safe, and Mr. X can +go peacefully and enthusiastically around Bangor selling whatever it is +which he has to sell. I resemble the Sheik Ben Ahmed Abdullah even less +than Mrs. X resembles Cleopatra. Mr. Smith (we might as well abandon +subterfuges and come out frankly with the name, since I have already +been indiscreet enough for him to identify the personages concerned) has +no rival but a phantom one. + +Realizing how much Smith and I and Mrs. Smith owe to the protecting +consolations of fiction, which includes history as written by Wells, I +feel that I ought to go on to generalize in favor of many much-abused +types of entertainment. Whenever a youngster steals anything, or a wife +runs away from home, the motion pictures are blamed. Censorship is +devoted to removing all traces of bloodshed from the films. Police +magistrates are called in to suppress farces dealing with folk given to +high jinks, on the ground that they threaten the morals of the +community. We assume, of course, that the censors are thinking of morals +in terms of deeds. They can hardly be ambitious enough to hope to +curtail the thoughts of a community. + +And I deny their major premise. Evil instincts are in us all. +Practically everybody would enjoy robbing a bank or running away with +somebody with whom he ought not to run away. These lawless instincts are +invariably drained off by watching their mimic presentment in novels and +films and plays. + +If only accurate statistics were available, I would wager and win on the +proposition that not half of 1 per cent of all the cracksmen in America +have ever seen _Alias Jimmy Valentine_. No burglar could watch the play +without being shamed out of his job by sheer envy. An ounce of +self-respect--and there are figures to show that yeggs average three and +a quarter--would keep a crook from continuing in his bungling way after +observing the manner in which Jimmy Valentine opens the door of a safe +merely by sandpapering his fingers. What sort of person do you suppose +could go and buy nitroglycerine ungrudgingly after that? Even by the +least optimistic estimate of human nature, the worst we could expect +from a criminal who had seen the play would be to have him make a +gallant and sincere effort to employ the touch system in his own career. +Such attempts would be easy to frustrate. Night watchmen could creep up +on the idealists and catch them unaware. They could be traced by their +cursing. And, of course, the police might keep an eye open at the doors +of the sandpaper shops. + +_Kiki_, David Belasco's adaptation from the French, taps another rich +vein of human depravity and allows it to be exploited and exhausted by +means of drama. The heroine of the play is a rowdy little baggage. She +has a civil word for no man. The truth is not in her. Now, every child +born into the world would like to lie and be impertinent. There is +practically no fun in being polite, and truth-telling is most +indifferent judged solely as an indoor sport. Manners and veracity are +things which people learn slowly and painfully. Undoubtedly both are +useful, though I am not at all sure that their importance is not +somewhat exaggerated. Community life demands certain sacrifices, +particularly as the pressure of civilization increases. The men of a +primitive tribe do not get up in the subway to give their seats to +ladies, because they have no subways. Likewise, having no hats, they are +not obliged to take them off. Of course it goes deeper than that. Even a +primitive civilization has weather, and yet one seldom hears an Indian +in his native state observing: "Isn't it unusually warm for November?" + +Once everybody was primitive, and the most intensive training cannot +wholly obliterate the old longing to be done with strange and +self-imposed trappings. Until it is licked out of them, children are +savagely rude. Training can alter practice, but even the most severe +chastisement cannot get deep enough to affect an instinct. We all want +to be rude, and we would, now and again, break loose in unrestrained +spells of boorishness if it were not for an occasional Kiki who does the +work for us. Accordingly, one of the most salutary forms of +entertainment is the comedy of bad manners which recurs in our theater +every once in so often. + +"But," I hear somebody objecting, "no matter how much each of us may +like to be rude, we don't care much about it when it is done to us. In +real life we would all run from Kiki because her monstrous bragging +would irritate us, and her vulgarity and bad manners would be most +annoying." + +All that would be true but for one factor. In any play which achieves +success a curious transference of personality takes place. Before a play +begins the audience is separated from the people on the stage by a +number of barriers. First of all, there is the curtain, but by and by +that goes up. The orchestra pit and the footlights still stand as moats +to keep us at our distance. Then the magic of the playhouse begins to +have its effect. If the actors and the playwrights know the tricks of +the business, they soon lift each impressionable person from his seat +and carry him spiritually right into the center of the happenings. He +becomes one or more persons in the play. We do not weep when Hamlet dies +because we care anything in particular about him. His death can hardly +come as a surprise. We knew he was going to die. We even knew that he +had been dead for a long time. + +Probably a few changes have been made in adapting _Kiki_ from the +French. Kiki is made just a bit more respectable than she was in the +French version, but she remains enough of a gamin and a rebel against +taste and morals to satisfy the outlaw spirit of an American audience. +She is for the New York stage "a good girl," but since this seems to be +only the slightest check upon her speech and conduct, there can be no +violent objection. Of course the type is perfectly familiar in the +American theater, but this time it seems to us better written than +usual, and much more skillfully and warmly played. Indeed, in my +opinion, Miss Ulric's Kiki is the best comedy performance of the season. +Even this is not quite enough. It has been a lean season, and this +particular piece of acting is good enough to stand out in a brilliant +one. The final scene of the play, in which Kiki apologizes for being +virtuous, seems to me a truly dazzling interpretation of emotions. It is +comic because it is surprising, and it is surprising because it concerns +some of the true things which people neglect to discuss. + +By seeing _Alias Jimmy Valentine_, the safe-cracking instinct which lies +dormant in us may be satisfied. _Kiki_ allows us to indulge our fondness +for being rude without alienating our friends. But more missionary work +remains. In _The Idle Inn_, Ben-Ami appears as a horse thief. +Personally, I have no inclination in that direction. I would not have +the slightest idea what to do with a horse after stealing him. My +apartment is quite small and up three flights of stairs. However, there +are other vices embodied in the rôle which are more appealing to me. The +rôle is that of a masterful man, which has always been among my thwarted +ambitions. In the second act Ben-Ami breaks through a circle of dancing +villagers and, seizing the bride, carries her off to the forest. +Probably New York will never realize how many weddings have been carried +on without mishap this season solely because of Ben-Ami's performance in +_The Idle Inn_. In addition to entrusting him with all my eloping for +the year, I purpose to let Ben-Ami swagger for me. He does it superbly. +To my mind this young Jewish actor is one of the most vivid performers +in our theater. His silences are more eloquent than the big speeches of +almost any other star on Broadway. + +The play is nothing to boast about. Once it was in Yiddish, and as far +as spirit goes it remains there. Once it was a language, and now it is +words. The usually adroit Arthur Hopkins has fallen down badly by +providing Ben-Ami with a mediocre company. He suffers like an +All-America halfback playing on a scrub team. The other players keep +getting in his way. + +One more production may be drawn into the discussion, but only by +extending the field of inquiry a little. _The Chocolate Soldier,_ which +is based on Shaw's _Arms and the Man,_ can hardly be said to satisfy the +soldiering instinct in us by a romantic tale of battle. Shaw's method is +more direct. He contents himself with telling us that the only people +who do get the thrill of adventure out of war are those who know it only +in imagination. His perfect soldier is prosaic. It is the girl who has +never seen a battle who romances about it. Still, Shaw does make it +possible for us to practice one vice vicariously. After seeing a piece +by him the spectator does not feel the need of being witty. He can just +sit back and let George do it. + + + + +XXXIX + +THE TALL VILLA + + +"The Tall Villa," by Lucas Malet, is a novel, but it may well serve as a +textbook for those who want to know how to entertain a ghost. There need +be no question that such advice is needed. For all the interest of the +present generation in psychical research, we treat apparitions with +scant courtesy. Suppose a visitor goes into a haunted room and at +midnight is awakened by a specter who carries a bloody dagger in one +hand and his ghostly head in the other; does the guest ask the ghost to +put his things down and stay a while? He does not. Instead, he rushes +screaming from the room or pulls the bedclothes over his head and dies +of fright. + +Ghosts walk because they crave society and they get precious little of +it. Frances Copley, the heroine of "The Tall Villa," managed things much +better. When the apparition of Lord Oxley first appeared to her she did +not faint or scream. On the contrary, the author tells us, "The +breeding, in which Frances Copley trusted, did not desert her now. After +the briefest interval she went on playing--she very much knew not what, +discords more than probably, as she afterward reflected!" + +After all, Lord Oxley may have been a ghost, but he was still a +gentleman. Indeed, when she saw him later she perceived that the shadow +"had grown, in some degree, substantial, taking on for the most part, +definite outline, definite form and shape. That, namely, of a young man +of notably distinguished bearing, dressed (in as far as, through the +sullen evening light, Frances could make out) in clothes of the highest +fashion, though according to a long discarded coloring and cut." + +From friends of the family Frances learned that young Oxley, who had +been dead about a century and a half, had shot himself on account of +unrequited love. After having looked him up and found that he was an +eligible ghost in every particular, Frances decided to take him up. She +continued to play for him without the discords. In fact, she began to +look forward to his afternoon calls with a great deal of pleasure. Her +husband did not understand her. She did not like his friends, and his +friends' friends were impossible. Oxley's calls, on the other hand, were +a social triumph. He was punctiliously exclusive. Nobody else could even +see him. When he came into the room others often noticed that the room +grew suddenly and surprisingly chilly, but the author fails to point out +whether that was due to Lord Oxley's station in life or after life. + +Bit by bit the acquaintance between Frances and the ghost ripened. At +first she never looked at him directly, but regarded his shadow in the +mirror. And they communicated only through music. Later Frances made so +bold as to speak to his lordship. + +"When you first came," she said, her voice veiled, husky, even a little +broken, "I was afraid. I thought only of myself. I was terrified both at +you and what you might demand from me. I hastened to leave this house, +to go away and try to forget. But I wasn't permitted to forget. While I +was away much concerning you was told me which changed my feeling toward +you and showed me my duty. I have come back of my own free will. I am +still afraid, but I no longer mind being afraid. My desire now is not to +avoid, but rather to meet you. For, as I have learned, we are kinsfolk, +you and I; and since this house is mine, you are in a sense my guest. Of +that I have come to be glad. I claim you as part of my inheritance--the +most valued, the most welcome portion, if you so will it. If I can help, +serve, comfort you, I am ready to do so to the utmost of my poor +capacity." + +Alexis, Lord Oxley, made no reply, but it was evident that he accepted +her offer of service and comfort graciously, for he continued to call +regularly. His manners were perfect, although it is true that he never +sent up his card, and yet in one matter Frances felt compelled to chide +him and even tearfully implore a reformation. It made her nervous when +she noticed one day that he carried in his right hand the ghost of the +pistol with which he had shot himself. Agreeably he abandoned his +century old habit, but later he was able to give more convincing proof +of his regard for Frances. She was alone in the Tall Villa when her +husband's vulgar friend, Morris Montagu, called. He came to tell her +that her husband was behaving disgracefully in South America, and on +the strength of that fact he made aggressive love. "Montagu's voice grew +rasping and hoarse. But before, paralyzed by disgust and amazement, +Frances had time to apprehend his meaning or combat his purpose, his +coarse, pawlike--though much manicured--hand grasped her wrist." + +Suddenly the room grew chilly and Morris Montagu, in mortal terror, +relaxed his grip and began to run for the door as he cried, "Keep off, +you accursed devil, I tell you. Don't touch me. Ah! Ah! Damn you, keep +off----" + +It is evident to the reader that the ghost of Alexis, Lord Oxley, is +giving the vulgar fellow what used to be known as "the bum's rush" in +the days before the Volstead act. At any rate, the voice of Montagu grew +feeble and distant and died away in the hall. Then the front door +slammed. Frances was saved! + +After that, of course, it was evident to Alexis, Lord Oxley, and Frances +that they loved each other. He began to talk to her in a husky and +highfalutin style. He even stood close to her chair and patted her head. +"Presently," writes Lucas Malet, "his hand dwelt shyly, lingering upon +her bent head, her cheek, the nape of her slender neck. And Frances felt +his hand as a chill yet tender draw, encircling, playing upon her. This +affected her profoundly, as attacking her in some sort through the +medium of her senses, from the human side, and thereby augmenting rather +than allaying the fever of her grief." + +Naturally, things could not go on in that way forever, and so Alexis, +Lord Oxley, arranged that Frances should cross the bridge with him into +the next life. It was not difficult to arrange this. She had only to +die. And so she did. All of which goes to prove that though it is well +to be polite and well spoken to ghosts, they will bear watching as much +as other men. + + + + +XL + +PROFESSOR GEORGE PIERCE BAKER + + +A great many persons speak and write about Professor George Pierce +Baker, of Harvard, as if he were a sort of agitator who made a practice +of luring young men away from productive labor to write bad plays. There +is no denying the fact that a certain number of dramatists have come out +of Harvard's English 47, but the course also has a splendid record of +cures. Few things in the world are so easy as to decide to write a play. +It carries a sense of satisfaction entirely disproportionate to the +amount of effort entailed. Even the failure to put a single line on +paper brings no remorse, for it is easy to convince yourself that the +thing would have had no chance in the commercial theater. + +All this would be well enough except that the author of a phantom play +is apt to remain a martyr throughout his life. He makes a very bad +husband and father and a worse bridge partner. Freudians know the +complaint as the Euripidean complex. The sufferer is ailing because his +play lies suppressed in his subconscious mind. + +Professor Baker digs these plays out. People who come to English 47 may +talk about their plays as much as they choose, but they must write them, +too. Often a cure follows within forty-eight hours after the completion +of a play. Sometimes it is enough for the author to read the thing +through for himself, but if that does not avail there is an excellent +chance for him after his play has been read aloud by Professor Baker and +criticized by the class. If a pupil still wishes to write plays after +this there is no question that he belongs in the business. He may, of +course, never earn a penny at it but, starve or flourish, he is a +playwright. + +Professor Baker deserves the thanks of the community, then, not only for +Edward Sheldon, and Cleves Kincaid, and Miss Lincoln and Eugene O'Neill +and some of the other playwrights who came from English 47, but also for +the number of excellent young men who have gone straight from his +classroom to Wall Street, and the ministry, and automobile accessories +with all the nascent enthusiasm of men just liberated from a great +delusion. + +In another respect Professor Baker has often been subjected to much +undeserved criticism. Somebody has figured out that there are 2.983 more +rapes in the average English 47 play than in the usual non-collegiate +specimen of commercial drama. We feel comparatively certain that there +is nothing in the personality of Professor Baker to account for this or +in the traditions of Harvard, either. We must admit that nowhere in the +world is a woman quite so unsafe as in an English 47 play, but the +faculty gives no official encouragement to this undergraduate enthusiasm +for sex problems. One must look beyond the Dean and the faculty for an +explanation. It has something to do with Spring, and the birds, and the +saplings and "What Every Young Man Ought to Know" and all that sort of +thing. + +When I was in English 47 I remember that all our plays dealt with Life. +At that none of us regarded it very highly. Few respected it and +certainly no one was in favor of it. The course was limited to juniors, +seniors and graduate students and we were all a little jaded. There were +times, naturally, when we regretted our lost illusions and longed to be +freshmen again and to believe everything the Sunday newspapers said +about Lillian Russell. But usually there was no time for regrets; we +were too busy telling Life what we thought about it. Here there was a +divergence of opinion. Some of the playwrights in English 47 said that +Life was a terrific tragedy. In their plays the hero shot himself, or +the heroine, or both, as the circumstances might warrant, in the last +act. The opposing school held that Life was a joke, a grim jest to be +sure, cosmic rather than comic, but still mirthful. The plays by these +authors ended with somebody ordering "Another small bottle of Pommery" +and laughing mockingly, like a world-wise cynic. + +Bolshevism had not been invented at that time, but Capital was severely +handled just the same. All our villains were recruited from the upper +classes. Yet capitalism had an easy time of it compared with marriage. I +do not remember that a single play which I heard all year in 47, whether +from Harvard or Radcliffe, had a single word of toleration, let alone +praise, for marriage. And yet it was dramatically essential, for +without marriage none of us would have been able to hammer out our +dramatic tunes upon the triangle. Most of the epigrams also were about +marriage. "Virtue is a polite word for fear," that is the sort of thing +we were writing when we were not empowering some character to say, +"Honesty is a bedtime fairy story invented for the proletariat," or "The +prodigal gets drunk; the Puritan gets religion." + +But up to date Professor Baker has stood up splendidly under this yearly +barrage of epigrams. With his pupils toppling institutions all around +him he has held his ground firmly and insisted on the enduring quality +of the fundamental technic of the drama. When a pupil brings in a play +in favor of polygamy, Baker declines to argue but talks instead about +peripety. In other words, Professor Baker is wise enough to realize that +it is impossible that he should furnish, or even attempt to mold in any +way, the philosophy which his students bring into English 47 each year. +If it is often a crude philosophy that is no fault of his. He can't +attempt to tell the fledgling playwrights what things to say and, of +course, he doesn't. English 47 is designed almost entirely to give a +certain conception of dramatic form. Professor Baker "tries in the light +of historical practice to distinguish the permanent from the impermanent +in technic." He endeavors, "by showing the inexperienced dramatist how +experienced dramatists have solved problems similar to his own, to +shorten a little the time of apprenticeship." + +When a man has done with Baker he has begun to grasp some of the things +he must not do in writing a play. With that much ground cleared all that +he has to do is to acquire a knowledge of life, devise a plot and find a +manager. + + + + +XLI + +WHAT SHAKESPEARE MISSED + + +Next to putting a gold crown upon a man's head and announcing, "I create +you emperor," no evil genius could serve him a worse turn than by giving +him a blue pencil and saying: "Now you're a censor." Unfortunately +mankind loves to possess the power of sitting in judgment. In some +respects the life of a censor is more exhilarating than that of an +emperor. The best the emperor can do is to snip off the heads of men and +women, who are mere mortals. The censor can decapitate ideas which but +for him might have lived forever. Think, for instance, of the +extraordinary thrill which might come to a matter-of-fact individual +living to-day in the city of Philadelphia if he happened to be the +censor to whom the moving-picture version of "Macbeth" was submitted. +His eye would light upon the subtitle "Give me the dagger," and, turning +to the volume called "Rules and Standards," he would find among the +prohibitions: "Pictures which deal at length with gun play, and the use +of knives." + +"That," one hears the censor crying in triumph, "comes out." + +"But," we may fancy the producer objecting, "you can't take that out; +Shakespeare wrote it, and it belongs in the play." + +"I don't care who wrote it," the censor could answer. "It can't be shown +in Pennsylvania." + +And it couldn't. The little fat man with the blue pencil--and censors +always become fat in time--can stand with both his feet upon the face of +posterity; he can look Fame in the eye and order her to quit trumpeting; +he can line his wastebasket with the greatest notions which have stirred +the mind of man. Like Joshua of old, he can command the sun and the moon +to stand still until they have passed inspection. Cleanliness, it has +been said, is next to godliness, but just behind comes the censor. + +Perhaps you may object that the censor would do none of the things +mentioned. Perhaps he wouldn't, but the Pennsylvania State Board of +Censors of Motion Pictures has been sufficiently alive to the +possibilities of what it might want to do in reëditing the classics to +give itself, specifically, supreme authority over the judgment and the +work of dead masters. Under Section 22 of "Standards of the Board" we +find: + +"That the theme or story of a picture is adapted from a publication, +whether classical or not; or that portions of a picture follow paintings +or other illustrations, is not a sufficient reason for the approval of a +picture or portions of a picture." + +As a matter of fact, it is pretty hard to see just how "Macbeth" could +possibly come to the screen in Pennsylvania. It might be banned on any +one of several counts. For instance, "Prolonged fighting scenes will be +shortened, and brutal fights will be wholly disapproved." Nobody can +question that the murder of Banquo was brutal. "The use of profane and +objectionable language in subtitles will be disapproved," which would +handicap Macduff a good deal in laying on in his usual fashion. + +"Gruesome and unduly distressing scenes will be disapproved. These +include shooting, stabbing, profuse bleeding----" If Shakespeare had +only written with Pennsylvania in mind, Duncan might be still alive and +Lady Macbeth sleep as well as the next one. + +But at this point we recognize another gentleman who wishes to protest +against any more attacks upon motion-picture censorship being made which +rest wholly on supposition. He has read "Standards of the Board," issued +by the gentlemen in Pennsylvania, and he asserts that all the rules laid +down are legitimate if interpreted with intelligence. + +It will not be necessary to put the whole list of rules in evidence +since there need be no dispute as to the propriety of such rules as +prohibit moving pictures about white slavery and the drug traffic. +Skipping these, we come to No. 5, which is as follows: + +"Scenes showing the modus operandi of criminals which are suggestive and +incite to evil action, such as murder, poisoning, housebreaking, safe +robbery, pocket picking, the lighting and throwing of bombs, the use of +ether, chloroform, etc., to render men and women unconscious, binding +and gagging, will be disapproved." + +Here I take the liberty of interrupting for a moment to protest that +the board has framed this rule upon the seeming assumption that to see +murders, robberies, and the rest is to wish at once to emulate the +criminals. This theory is in need of proving. "A good detective story" +is the traditional relaxation of all men high in power in times of +stress, but it is not recorded of Roosevelt, Wilson, Secretary of State +Hughes, Lloyd George, nor of any of the other noted devotees of criminal +literature that he attempted to put into practice any of the things of +which he read. But to get on with the story: + +"(6) Gruesome and unduly distressing scenes will be disapproved. These +include shooting, stabbing, profuse bleeding, prolonged views of men +dying and of corpses, lashing and whipping and other torture scenes, +hangings, lynchings, electrocutions, surgical operations, and views of +persons in delirium or insane." + +Here, of course, a great deal is left to the discretion of the censors. +Just what is "gruesome and unduly distressing"? This, I fancy, must +depend upon the state of the censor's digestion. To a vegetarian censor +it might be nothing more than a close-up of a beefsteak dinner. To a man +living in the city which supports the Athletics and the Phillies a mere +flash of a baseball game might be construed as "gruesome and unduly +distressing." + +This is another of the rules which puts Shakespeare in his place, +sweeping out, as it does, both Lear and Ophelia. And possibly Hamlet. +Was Hamlet mad? The Pennsylvania censors will have to take that question +up in a serious way sooner or later. + +"(7) Studio and other scenes, in which the human form is shown in the +nude, or the body is unduly exposed, will be disapproved." + +This fails to state whether the prohibition includes the reproduction of +statues shown publicly and familiarly to all comers in our museums. + +Prohibition No. 8, which deals with eugenics, birth control and similar +subjects, may be passed without comment, as it refers rather to news +than to feature pictures. + +Prohibition No. 9 covers a wide field: + +"Stories or scenes holding up to ridicule and reproach races, classes, +or other social groups, as well as the irreverent and sacrilegious +treatment of religious bodies or other things held to be sacred, will be +disapproved." + +Here we have still another rule which might be invoked against Hamlet's +coming to the screen, since the chance remark, "Something is rotten in +the state of Denmark," might logically be held to be offensive to +Scandinavians. "The Merchant of Venice," of course, would have no +chance, not only as anti-Semitic propaganda, but because it holds up +money lenders, a well-known social group, to ridicule. + +No. 10 briefly forbids pictures which deal with counterfeiting, +seemingly under the impression that if this particular crime is never +mentioned the members of the underworld may possibly forget its +existence. In No. 11 there is the direct prohibition of "scenes showing +men and women living together without marriage." Here the greatest +difficulty will fall upon those film manufacturers who deal in travel +pictures. No exhibitor is safe in flashing upon a screen the picture of +a cannibal man and woman and several little cannibals in front of their +hut without first ascertaining from the camera man that he went inside +and inspected the wedding certificate. No. 13 forbids the use of +"profane and objectionable language," which we shall find later has been +construed to include the simple "Hell." + +Under 15 we find this ruling: "Views of incendiarism, burning, wrecking, +and the destruction of property, which may put like action into the +minds of those of evil instincts, or may degrade the morals of the +young, will be disapproved." + +In other words, Nero may fiddle to his heart's content, but he must do +it without the inspiration of the burning of Rome. Curiously enough, +throughout all the rules of censorship there runs a continuous train of +reasoning that the pictures must be adapted to the capacity and +mentality of the lowest possible person who could wander into a picture +house. The picture-loving public, in the minds of the censors, seems to +be honeycombed with potential murderers, incendiaries, and +counterfeiters. Rule No. 16 discourages scenes of drunkenness, and adds +chivalrously: "Especially if women have a part in the scenes." + +Next we come to a rule which would handicap vastly any attempt to +reproduce Stevenson or any other lover of the picaresque upon the +screen. "Pictures which deal at length with gun play," says Rule 17, +"and the use of knives, and are set in the underworld, will be +disapproved. Prolonged fighting scenes will be shortened and brutal +fights will be wholly disapproved." + +What, we wonder, would the censors do with a picture about Thermopylæ? +Would they, we wonder, command that resistance be shortened if the +picture was to escape the ban? The Alamo was another fight which dragged +on unduly, and Grant was guilty of great disrespect in his famous "If it +takes all summer," not to mention the impudent incitement toward the +prolongation of a fight in Lawrence's "Don't give up the ship." + +No. 19 suggests difficulties in its ban on "sensual kissing and +love-making scenes." Naturally the question arises: "At just what point +does a kiss become sensual?" Here the censors, to their credit, have +been clear and definite in their ruling. They have decided that a kiss +remains chaste for ten feet. If held upon the screen for as much as an +inch above this limit, it changes character and becomes sensual. Here, +at any rate, morality has been measured with an exactitude which is +rare. + +No. 20 is puzzling. It begins, liberally enough, with the announcement +that "Views of women smoking will not be disapproved as such," but then +adds belatedly that this ruling does not apply if "their manner of +smoking is suggestive." Suggestive of what, I wonder? Perhaps the +censors mean that it is all right for women to smoke in moving pictures +if only they don't inhale, but it would have been much more simple to +have said just that. No. 22 is the famous proclamation that the +classics, as well as other themes, must meet Pennsylvania requirements, +and in 23 we have a fine general rule which covers almost anything a +censor may want to do. "Themes or incidents in picture stories," it +reads, "which are designed to inflame the mind to improper adventures, +or to establish false standards of conduct, coming under the foregoing +classes, or of other kinds, will be disapproved. Pictures will be judged +as a whole, with a view to their final total effect; those portraying +evil in any form which may be easily remembered or emulated will be +disapproved." + +Perhaps there are still some who remain unconvinced as to the excesses +of censorship. The argument may be advanced that nothing is wrong with +the rules mentioned if only they are enforced with discretion and +intelligence. In answer to this plea the best thing to do would be to +consider a few of the eliminations in definite pictures which were +required by the Pennsylvania board and by the one in Ohio which operates +under a somewhat similar set of regulations. An industrial play called +"The Whistle" was banned in its entirety in Pennsylvania under the +following ruling: "Disapproved under Section 6 of the Act of 1915. +Symbolism of the title raises class antagonism and hatred, and +throughout subtitles, scenes, and incidents have the same effect." + +But most astounding of all was the final observation: "Child-labor and +factory laws of this State would make incident shown impossible." In +other words, if a thing did not happen in Pennsylvania it is assumed not +to have happened at all. It is entirely possible that the next producer +who brings an Indian picture to the censors may be asked to eliminate +the elephants on the ground that "there aren't any in this State." + +The same State ordered out of "Officer Cupid," a comedy, a scene in +which one of the chief comedians was seen robbing a safe, presumably +under the section against showing crime upon the stage. + +Most troublesome of all were the changes ordered into the screen version +of Augustus Thomas's well-known play "The Witching Hour." It may be +remembered that the villain of this piece was an assistant district +attorney in the State of Kentucky, but Pennsylvania would not have him +so. It is difficult to find any specific justification for this attitude +in the published standards of the State unless we assume that a district +attorney was classified as belonging to the group "other things held to +be sacred" which were not to be treated lightly. The first ruling of the +censors in regard to "The Witching Hour" ran: "Reel One--Eliminate +subtitle 'Frank Hardmuth, assistant district attorney,' and substitute +'Frank Hardmuth, a prosperous attorney.'" + +Next came: "Reel Two--Eliminate subtitle, 'I can give her the +best--money, position, and, as far as character--I am district attorney +now, and before you know it I will be the governor,' and substitute: 'I +can give her the best--money, position, and, as far as character--I am +now a prosperous attorney, and before you know it I will be running for +governor.'" + +And again: "Eliminate subtitle: 'Exactly--but you have taken an oath to +stand by this city,' and substitute: 'Exactly, but you have taken an +oath to stand by the law.'" + +This curious complex that even assistant district attorneys should be +above suspicion ran through the entire film. Simpler was the change of +the famous curtain line which was familiar to all theatergoers of New +York ten or twelve seasons ago when "The Witching Hour" was one of the +hits of the season. It may be remembered that at the end of the third +act Frank Hardmuth, then a district attorney and not yet reduced to a +prosperous attorney, ran into the library of the hero to kill him. The +hero's name we have forgotten, but he was a professional gambler, of a +high type, who later turned hypnotist. Hardmuth thrust a pistol into his +stomach, and we can still see the picture and hear the line as John +Mason turned and said: "You can't shoot that gun [and then after a long +pause]: You can't even hold it." Hardmuth, played by George Nash, +staggered back and exclaimed, just before the curtain came down: "I'd +like to know how in Hell you did that to me." It can hardly have been +equally effective in moving pictures after the censor made the caption +read: "I'd like to know how you did that to me." The original version +fell under the ban against profanity. + +In Ohio a more recent picture called "The Gilded Lily" had not a little +trouble. Here the Board of Censors curtly ordered: "First Reel--Cut out +girl smoking cigarette which she takes from man." Seemingly they did not +even stop to consider whether or not she smoked it suggestively. And +again in the third reel came the order: "Cut out all scenes of girl's +smoking cigarette at table." Most curious of all was the order: "Cut out +verse with words: 'I'm a little prairie flower growing wilder every +hour.'" + +William Vaughn Moody's "The Faith Healer" was considered a singularly +dignified and moving play in its dramatic form, but the picture ran into +difficulties, as usual, in Pennsylvania. "Eliminate subtitle," came the +order: "'Your power is not gone because you love--but because your love +has fallen on one unworthy.'" As this is a fair statement of the idea +upon which Mr. Moody built his play, it cannot be said that anything +which the moving-picture producers brought in was responsible. + +Throughout the rest of the world one may thumb his nose as a gesture of +scorn and contempt, but in Pennsylvania this becomes a public menace not +to be tolerated. "Reel Two"--we find in the records of the Board of +Censors--"eliminate view of man thumbing his nose at lion." + +As a matter of fact, no rule of censorship of any sort may be framed so +wisely that by and by some circumstance will not arise under which it +may be turned to an absurd use. Any censors must have rules. No man can +continue to make decisions all day long. He must eventually fall back +upon the bulwark of printed instructions. I observed an instance of this +sort during the war. A rule was passed forbidding the mention of any +arrivals from America in France. An American captain who had brought his +wife to France ran into this regulation when he attempted to cable home +to his parents the news that he had become the proud parent of a son. +"Charles Jr. arrived to-day. Weight eight pounds. Everything fine," he +wrote on the cable blank, only to have it turned back to him with the +information: "We're not allowed to pass any messages about arrivals." + +It is almost as difficult for babies to arrive in motion-picture +stories. Any suggestion which would tend to weaken the faith of any one +in storks or cabbage leaves is generally frowned upon. For a time +picture producers felt that they had discovered a safe device which +would inform adults and create no impression in the minds of younger +patrons, and pictures were filled with mothers knitting baby clothes. +This has now been ruled out as quite too shocking. "Eliminate scene +showing Bobby holding up baby's sock," the Pennsylvania body has ruled, +"and scene showing Bobby standing with wife kissing baby's sock." In +fact, there is nothing at all to be done except to make all screen +babies so many Topsies who never were born at all. Even such a simple +sentence as "And Julia Duane faced the most sacred duties of a woman's +life alone" was barred. + +Like poor Julia Duane, the moving-picture producers have one problem +which they must face alone. They are confronted with difficulties +unknown to the publisher of books and the producer of plays. The movie +man must frame a story which will interest grown-ups and at the same +time contain nothing which will disturb the innocence of the youngest +child in the audience. At any rate, that is the task to which he is held +by most censorship boards. The publisher of a novel knows that there are +certain things which he may not permit to reach print without being +liable to prosecution, but at the same time he knows that he is +perfectly safe in allowing many things in his book which are not +suitable for a four-year-old-child. There is no prospect that the +four-year-old child will read it. Just so when a manager undertakes a +production of Ibsen's "Ghosts" it never enters into his head just what +its effect will be on little boys of three. But these same youngsters +will be at the picture house, and the standards of what is suitable for +them must be standards of all the others. There should, of course, be +some way of grading movie houses. There should be theaters for children +under fourteen, others with subjects suitable for spectators from +fourteen to sixty, and then small select theaters for those more than +sixty in which caution might be thrown to the winds. + +Another of the difficulties of the unfortunate moving-picture producer +is the fact that censorship bodies in various parts of the country have +a faculty of seldom hitting on the same thing as objectionable. There +is, of course, a National Association of the Motion Picture Industry +which maintains its own censorship through which 92 per cent of all the +pictures exhibited in America are passed, but in addition to that +Pennsylvania, Ohio, Kansas, and Maryland have State censorship boards, +and there are numerous local bodies as well. Cecil B. De Mille +complained, shortly after his version of Geraldine Farrar in "Carmen" +was launched, that at that time there were approximately thirty-five +censorship organizations in the United States. These included various +State and municipal boards. Every one of these thirty-odd organizations +censored "Carmen." No two boards censored the same thing. In other +words, what was morally acceptable to New York was highly immoral in +Pennsylvania. What Pennsylvania might see with impunity was considered +dangerous to the citizens of an adjoining State. + +Of course the question at issue is whether the potential immoral picture +shall first be shown at the producer's or the exhibitor's risk, or +whether censorship shall come first before there has been any public +showing. The contention is made by some of the moving-picture people +that they should have the same freedom given to people who deal in print +to publish first and take the consequences later if any statute has been +violated. The right to free speech, in fact, has been invoked in favor +of the motion picture as a medium of expression. This view had the +support of the late Mayor Gaynor, an excellent jurist, but apparently it +is not the view held by various State courts which have passed upon the +constitutionality of censorship laws. When the aldermen of New York City +passed an ordinance providing for the censorship of movies Mayor Gaynor +wrote: "If this ordinance is legal, then a similar ordinance in respect +of the newspapers and the theaters generally would be legal. Once revive +the censorship and there is no telling how far we may carry it." + +No matter what the law, the real basis of censorship is the public +itself. Persons who feel that tighter lines of censorship must be drawn +and new bodies established go on the theory that there is a great demand +for the salacious moving-picture show. But there is no continuing appeal +in dirt in the theater. It does not permanently sell the biggest of the +magazines or the newspapers. And naturally it is not a paying commodity +to the moving-picture men. The best that the censor can do is to guess +what will be offensive to the general public. The general public can be +much more accurate in its reactions. It knows. And it is prepared to +stay away from the dirty show in droves. + + + + +XLII + +CENSORING THE CENSOR + + +Mice and canaries were sometimes employed in France to detect the +presence of gas. When these little things began to die in their cages +the soldiers knew that the air had become dangerous. Some such system +should be devised for censorship to make it practical. Even with the +weight of authority behind him no bland person, with virtue obviously +unruffled, is altogether convincing when he announces that the book he +has just read or the moving picture he has seen is so hideously immoral +that it constitutes a danger to the community. For my part I always feel +that if he can stand it so can I. To the best of my knowledge and +belief, Mr. Sumner was not swayed from his usual course of life by so +much as a single peccadillo for all of _Jurgen_. His indignation was +altogether altruistic. He feared for the fate of weaker men and women. + +Every theatrical manager, every motion picture producer, and every +publisher knows, to his sorrow, that the business of estimating the +effect of any piece of imaginative work upon others is precarious and +uncertain. Genius would be required to predict accurately the reaction +of the general public to any set piece which seems immoral to the +censor. For instance, why was Mr. Sumner so certain that _Jurgen_, +which inspired him with horror and loathing, would prove a persuasive +temptation to all the rest of the world? Censorship is serious and +drastic business; it should never rest merely upon guesswork and more +particularly not upon the guesses of men so staunch in morals that they +are obviously of distant kin to the rest of humanity. + +The censor should be a person of a type capable of being blasted for the +sins of the people. His job can be elevated to dignity only when the +world realizes that he runs horrid risks. If we should choose our +censors from fallible folk we might have proof instead of opinions. +Suppose the censor of Jurgen had been some one other than Mr. Sumner, +some one so unlike the head of the vice society that after reading Mr. +Cabell's book he had come out of his room, not quivering with rage, but +leering and wearing vine leaves. In such case the rest would be easy. It +would merely be necessary to shadow the censor until he met his first +dryad. His wink would be sufficient evidence and might serve as a cue +for the rescuers to rush forward and save him. Of course there would +then be no necessity for legal proceedings in regard to the book. Expert +testimony as to its possible effects would be irrelevant. We would know +and we could all join cheerfully in the bonfire. + +To my mind there are three possible positions which may logically be +taken concerning censorship. It might be entrusted to the wisest man in +the world, to a series of average men,--or be abolished. Unfortunately +it has been our experience that there is a distinct affinity between +fools and censorship. It seems to be one of those treading grounds where +they rush in. To be sure, we ought to admit a prejudice at the outset +and acknowledge that we were a reporter in France during the war at a +time when censors seemed a little more ridiculous than usual. We still +remember the young American lieutenant who held up a story of a boxing +match in Saint-Nazaire because the reporter wrote, "In the fourth round +MacBeth landed a nice right on the Irishman's nose and the claret began +to flow." "I'm sorry," said the censor, "but we have strict orders from +Major Palmer that no mention of wine or liquor is to be allowed in any +story about the American army." + +Nor have we forgotten the story of General Petain's mustache. "Why," +asked Junius Wood of the _Globe_, "have you held up my story? All the +rest have gone." + +"Unfortunately," answered the courteous Frenchman, "you have twice used +the expression General Petain's 'white mustache.' I might stretch a +point and let you say 'gray mustache,' but I should much prefer to have +you say 'blond mustache.'" + +"Oh, make it green with purple spots," said Junius. + +The use of average men in censorship would necessitate sacrifices to the +persuasive seduction of immorality, as I have suggested, and moreover +there are very few average men. Accordingly, I am prepared to abandon +that plan of censorship. The wisest man in the world is too old and too +busy with his plays and has announced that he will never come to +America. Accordingly we venture to suggest that in time of peace we try +to get along without any censorship of plays or books or moving +pictures. I have no desire, of course, to leave Mr. Sumner +unemployed--it would perhaps be only fair to allow him to slosh around +among the picture post cards. + +Once official censorship had been officially abolished, a strong and +able censorship would immediately arise consisting of the playgoing and +reading public. It is a rather offensive error to assume that the vast +majority of folk in America are rarin' to get to dirty books and dirty +plays. It is the experience of New York managers that the run of the +merely salacious play is generally short. The success which a few nasty +books have had has been largely because of the fact that they came close +to the line of things which are forbidden. Without the prohibition there +would be little popularity. + +To save myself from the charge of hypocrisy I should add that personally +I believe there ought to be a certain amount of what we now know as +immoral writing. It would do no harm in a community brought up to take +it or let it alone. It is well enough for the reading public and the +critic to use terms such as moral or immoral, but they hardly belong in +the vocabulary of an artist. I have heard it said that before Lucifer +left Heaven there were no such things as virtues and vices. The world +was equipped with a certain number of traits which were qualities +without distinction or shame. But when Lucifer and the heavenly hosts +drifted into their eternal warfare it was agreed that each side should +recruit an equal number of these human, and at that time unclassified, +qualities. A coin was tossed and, whether by fair chance or sharp +miracle, Heaven won. + +"I choose Blessedness," said the Captain of the Angels. It should be +explained that the selection was made without previous medical +examination, and Blessedness seemed at that time a much more robust +recruit than he has since turned out to be. A tendency to flat foot is +always hard to detect. + +"Give me Beauty," said Lucifer, and from that day to this the artists of +the world have been divided into two camps--those who wished to achieve +beauty and those who wished to achieve blessedness, those who wanted to +make the world better and those who were indifferent to its salvation if +they could only succeed in making it a little more personable. + +However, the conflict is not quite so simple as that. Late in the +afternoon when the Captain of the Angels had picked Unselfishness and +Moderation and Faith and Hope and Abstinence, and Lucifer had called to +his side Pride and Gluttony and Anger and Lust and Tactlessness, there +remained only two more qualities to be apportioned to the contending +sides. One of them was Sloth, who was obviously overweight, and the +other was a furtive little fellow with his cap down over his eyes. + +"What's your name?" said the Captain of the Angels. + +"Truth," stammered the little fellow. + +"Speak up," said the Captain of the Angels so sharply that Lucifer +remonstrated, saying, "Hold on there; Anger's on my side." + +"Truth," said the little fellow again but with the same somewhat +indistinct utterance which has always been so puzzling to the world. + +"I don't understand you," said the Captain of the Angels, "but if it's +between you and Sloth I'll take a chance with you. Stop at the locker +room and get your harp and halo." + +Now to-day even Lucifer will admit, if you get him in a corner, that +Truth is the mightiest warrior of them all. The only trouble is his +truancy. Sometimes he can't be found for centuries. Then he will bob up +unexpectedly, break a few heads, and skip away. Nothing can stand +against him. Lucifer's best ally, Beauty, is no match for him. Truth +holds every decision. But the trouble is that he still keeps his cap +down over his eyes, and he still mumbles his words, and nobody knows him +until he is at least fifty years away and moving fast. At that distance +he seems to grow bigger, and he invariably reaches into his back pocket +and puts on his halo so that people can recognize him. Still, when he +comes along the next time and is face to face with any man of this +world, the mortal is pretty sure to say, "Your face is familiar but I +can't seem to place you." + +There is no denying that he isn't a good mixer. But for that he would be +an excellent censor. + + * * * * * + + +Etext transcriber's note: + +The following changes have been made from the original text: + +Frudian=>Freudian + +too old and two busy=>too old and too busy + +Minnegerode=>Minnigerode [Meade Minnigerode (1887-1967)] + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Pieces of Hate, by Heywood Broun + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PIECES OF HATE *** + +***** This file should be named 35679-8.txt or 35679-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/5/6/7/35679/ + +Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Pieces of Hate + And Other Enthusiasms + +Author: Heywood Broun + +Release Date: March 26, 2011 [EBook #35679] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PIECES OF HATE *** + + + + +Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + + + + + +</pre> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 352px;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="352" height="550" alt="image of the book's cover" title="" /> +</div> + +<p> +<br /> +<br /> +</p> + +<p class="cb"><span style="text-decoration:underline;">P I E C E S O F H A T E</span><br /> +HEYWOOD BROUN</p> + +<h1>PIECES OF HATE<br /> +<small><i>And Other Enthusiasms</i><br /> +B <small>Y</small> H E Y W O O D B R O U N</small></h1> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/fronta.png" width="400" height="34" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 150px;"> +<img src="images/frontb.png" width="100" height="134" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/frontc.png" width="400" height="30" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="cb">GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY<br /> +PUBLISHERS 1922 NEW YORK</p> + +<p> +<br /> +</p> + +<p class="cb"><small>COPYRIGHT, 1922<br /> +BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY</small></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100px;"> +<img src="images/copy.png" width="50" height="41" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p> +<br /> +</p> + +<p class="cb"><small>PIECES OF HATE.<br /> +PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA</small></p> + +<p> +<br /> +<br /> +</p> + +<p class="cb">TO MY FATHER<br /> +HEYWOOD C. BROUN</p> + +<h3><a name="PREFACE" id="PREFACE"></a>PREFACE</h3> + +<p>The trouble with prefaces is that they are partial and so we have +decided to offer instead an unbiased review of "Pieces of Hate." The +publishers have kindly furnished us advance proofs for this purpose.</p> + +<p>We wish we could speak with unreserved enthusiasm about this book. It +would be pleasant to make out a list of three essential volumes for +humanity and suggest the complete works of William Shakespeare, the +Bible and "Pieces of Hate," but Mr. Broun's book does not deserve any +such ranking. Speaking as a critic of books, we are not at all sure that +we care to recommend it. It seems to us that the author is honest, but +the value of that quality has been vastly overstressed in present-day +reviewing. We are inclined to say "What of it?" There would be nothing +particularly persuasive if a man should approach a poker game and say, +"Won't you let Broun in; I can assure he's honest." Why should a +recommendation which is taken for granted among common gamblers be +considered flattering when applied to a writer?</p> + +<p>Anyhow, it does not seem to us that Broun carries honesty to excess. +There is every indication that most of the work in "Pieces of Hate" has +been done so hurriedly that there has been no opportunity for a recount. +If it balances at any given point luck must be with him as well as +virtue. All the vices of haste are in this book of stories, critical +essays and what not. The author is not content to stalk down an idea and +salt it. Whenever he sees what he believes to be a notion he leaves his +feet and tries to bring it down with a flying tackle. Occasionally there +actually is an exciting and interesting crash of flying bodies coming +into contact. But just as often Mr. Broun misses his mark and falls on +his face. At other times he gets the object of his dive only to find +that it was not a genuine idea after all, but only a straw man, a sort +of tackling dummy set up to fool and educate novices.</p> + +<p>And Broun does not learn fast. Like most newspaper persons he is an +extraordinary mixture of sophistication and naïveté. At one moment he +will be found belaboring a novelist or a dramatist for sentimentality +and on the next page there will be distinct traces of treacle in his own +creative work. Seemingly, what he means when he says that he does not +like sentimentality is that he doesn't like the sentimentality of +anybody else. He would restrict the quality to the same narrow field as +charity.</p> + +<p>The various forms introduced into the book are a little confusing. +Seemingly there has been no plan as to the sequence of stories, essays, +dramatic criticism and the rest. Possibly the author regards this as +versatility, but here is another vastly overrated quality. We once had a +close friend who was a magician and after we had watched him take an +omelet out of his high hat, and two white rabbits, and a bowl of +goldfish, it always made us a little uneasy when he said, "Wait a +minute until I put on my hat and I'll walk home with you."</p> + +<p>The fear constantly lurked in our mind that he might suddenly remember, +in the middle of Times Square, that he had forgotten a trick and be +compelled to pause and take a boa-constrictor from under the sweat-band. +We suggest to Mr. Broun that he make up his mind as to just what he +intends to do and then stick to it to the exclusion of all sidelines.</p> + +<p>Perhaps he has promised, but we are prepared to wager nothing on him +until we are convinced that he has begun to drive for something. He may +be a young man but he is not so young that he can afford to traffic any +further with flipness under the impression that it is something just as +good as humor. And we wish he wouldn't pun. George H. Doran, the +publisher, informs us that he had to plead with Broun to make him leave +out a chapter on the ugliness of heirlooms and particularly old sofas. +Apparently the piece was written for no other purpose than to carry the +title "The Chintz of the Fathers."</p> + +<p>We also find Mr. Broun's pose as the professional Harvard man a little +bit trying, particularly as expressed in his essay "The Bigger the +Year." We suppose he may be expected to outgrow this in time but he has +been long enough about it.</p> + +<p class="r">H<small>EYWOOD</small> B<small>ROUN</small>.</p> + +<div class="blockquot1"><p class="nind"><b>Some of these articles have appeared in the <i>New York World</i>, the +<i>New York Tribune</i>, <i>Vanity Fair</i>, <i>Collier's Weekly</i>, <i>The +Bookman</i> and <i>Judge</i>, and acknowledgment is made to these +publications for permission to reprint.</b></p></div> + +<h3><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h3> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="3" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td><small>CHAPTER</small></td><td></td><td align="right"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#I">I</a></td><td>THE NOT IMPOSSIBLE SHEIK</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_017">17</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#II">II</a></td><td>JOHN ROACH STRATON</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_023">23</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#III">III</a></td><td>PRIVATE OWNERSHIP OF OFFSPRING</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_026">26</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#IV">IV</a></td><td>G. K. C.</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_030">30</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#V">V</a></td><td>ON BEING A GOD</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_035">35</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#VI">VI</a></td><td>CHIVALRY IS BORN</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_040">40</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#VII">VII</a></td><td>RUTH VS. ROTH</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_045">45</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#VIII">VIII</a></td><td>THE BIGGER THE YEAR</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_049">49</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#IX">IX</a></td><td>FOR OLD NASSAU</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_054">54</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#X">X</a></td><td>MR. DEMPSEY'S FIVE-FOOT SHELF</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_058">58</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#XI">XI</a></td><td>SPORT FOR ART'S SAKE</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_064">64</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#XII">XII</a></td><td>JACK THE GIANT KILLER</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_070">70</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#XIII">XIII</a></td><td>JUDGE KRINK</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_076">76</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#XIV">XIV</a></td><td>FRANKINCENSE AND MYRRH</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_079">79</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#XV">XV</a></td><td>THE EXCELSIOR MOVEMENT</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_082">82</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#XVI">XVI</a></td><td>THE DOG STAR</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_086">86</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#XVII">XVII</a></td><td>ALTRUISTIC POKER</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_090">90</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#XVIII">XVIII</a></td><td>THE WELL MADE REVUE</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_092">92</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#XIX">XIX</a></td><td>AN ADJECTIVE A DAY</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_096">96</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#XX">XX</a></td><td>THE UNKNOWN SOLDIER</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_099">99</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#XXI">XXI</a></td><td>A TORTOISE SHELL HOME</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_101">101</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#XXII">XXII</a></td><td>I'D DIE FOR DEAR OLD RUTGERS</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_106">106</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#XXIII">XXIII</a></td><td>ARE EDITORS PEOPLE?</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_111">111</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#XXIV">XXIV</a></td><td>WE HAVE WITH US THIS EVENING—</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_116">116</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#XXV">XXV</a></td><td>THE YOUNG PESSIMISTS</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_124">124</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#XXVI">XXVI</a></td><td>GLASS SLIPPERS BY THE GROSS</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_180">180</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#XXVII">XXVII</a></td><td>A MODERN BEANSTALK</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_134">134</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#XXVIII">XXVIII</a></td><td>VOLSTEAD AND CONVERSATION</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_137">137</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#XXIX">XXIX</a></td><td>LIFE, THE COPY CAT</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_143">143</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#XXX">XXX</a></td><td>THE ORTHODOX CHAMPION</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_149">149</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#XXXI">XXXI</a></td><td>WITH A STEIN ON THE TABLE</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_153">153</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#XXXII">XXXII</a></td><td>ART FOR ARGUMENT'S SAKE</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_159">159</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#XXXIII">XXXIII</a></td><td>NO RAHS FOR RAY</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_165">165</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#XXXIV">XXXIV</a></td><td>"AT ABOY!"</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_170">170</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#XXXV">XXXV</a></td><td>HOW TO WIN MONEY AT THE RACES</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_174">174</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#XXXVI">XXXVI</a></td><td>ONE TOUCH OF SLAPSTICK</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_178">178</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#XXXVII">XXXVII</a></td><td>DANGER SIGNALS FOR READERS</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_183">183</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#XXXVIII">XXXVIII</a></td><td>ADVENTURE MADE PAINLESS</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_188">188</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#XXXIX">XXXIX</a></td><td>THE TALL VILLA</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_197">197</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#XL">XL</a></td><td>PROFESSOR GEORGE PIERCE BAKER</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_202">202</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#XLI">XLI</a></td><td>WHAT SHAKESPEARE MISSED</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_207">207</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#XLII">XLII</a></td><td>CENSORING THE CENSOR</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_222">222</a></td></tr> +</table> + +<p><a name="page_017" id="page_017"></a></p> + +<h1>PIECES OF HATE</h1> + +<h3><a name="I" id="I"></a>I<br /><br /> +THE NOT IMPOSSIBLE SHEIK</h3> + +<p>Women must be peculiar people, if that. We have just finished "The +Sheik," which is described on the jacket as possessing "<small>ALL</small> the intense +passion and tender feeling of the most vivid love stories, almost brutal +in its revelations."</p> + +<p>Naturally, we read it. The author is English and named E. M. Hull. The +publishers expand the "E" to Ethel, but we have a theory of our own. At +any rate the novelist displays an extraordinary knowledge of feminine +psychology. It is profound. It is also a little disturbing because it +sounds so silly. After all, whether peculiar or not women are round +about us almost everywhere, and we must make the best of them. +Accordingly, it terrifies us to learn that if by any chance whatsoever +we happen to hit one of them and knock her down she will become devoted +to us forever. The man who knows this will think twice before he strikes +a woman no matter what the provocation. He will be inclined to count ten +before letting a blow go instead of after. Miss Hull's book deserves the +widest possible circulation because of<a name="page_018" id="page_018"></a> its persuasive propaganda for +forebearance on the part of men in their dealings with women.</p> + +<p>Seemingly, there are no exceptions to the rules about women laid down by +Miss Hull. To state her theory concisely, the quickest way to reach a +woman's heart is a right hook to the jaw. To take a specific instance, +there was Miss Diana Mayo. She seemed an exception to the rule if ever a +woman did. "My God, Diana! Beauty like yours drives a man mad!" said +Arbuthnot, the young British lieutenant, in the moonlight at Biskra. +More than that, "He whispered ardently, his hands closing over the slim +ones lying in her lap." Those were her own.</p> + +<p>Still, Diana was no miss to take a hint. With a strength that seemed +impossible for their slimness she disengaged her hands from his grasp. +"Please stop. I am sorry. We have been good friends, and it has never +occurred to me that there could be anything beyond that. I never thought +that you might love me. I never thought of you in that way at all. I +don't understand it. When God made me he omitted to give me a heart. I +have never loved any one in my life."</p> + +<p>That was before Miss Diana Mayo went into the desert and met the Sheik +Ahmed Ben Hassan. The meeting was unconventional. Ahmed sacked the +caravan and kidnapped Diana, seizing her off her horse's back at full +gallop. "His movement had been so quick she was unprepared and unable to +resist. For a moment she was stunned, then her senses came back to her +and she struggled wildly, but stifled in the thick folds of the Arab's +robes, against which her<a name="page_019" id="page_019"></a> face was crushed, and held in a grip that +seemed to be slowly suffocating her, her struggles were futile. The +hard, muscular arm around her hurt her acutely, her ribs seemed to be +almost breaking under its weight and strength, it was nearly impossible +to breathe with the close contact of his body."</p> + +<p>But Diana did not love him yet. She seems to have been less susceptible +than most girls. Even when "her whole body was one agonized ache from +the brutal hands" she persisted in not caring for Ahmed Ben Hassan. It +almost seemed as if she had taken a dislike to the man. Up to this time +she had not learned to make allowances for him. It was much later than +this that "She looked at the marks of his fingers on the delicate skin +with a twist of the lips, then shut her eyes with a little gasp and hid +her bruised arm hastily, her mouth quivering. But she did not blame him; +she had brought it on herself; she knew his mood and he did not know his +own strength."</p> + +<p>Diana's realization that she loved the Sheik Ahmed Ben Hassan and had +loved him for some time came under sudden and dramatic circumstances. +She was running away from him at the time and he was riding after her. +Standing up in the stirrups, the Sheik shot the horse from under her and +"Diana was flung far forward and landed on some soft sand." But even yet +her blindness to the whispering of love persisted. She thought she hated +Ahmed, but dawn was about to break in her starved heart. "He caught her +wrist and flung her out of the way," yet it was not until he had lifted +her up on the saddle in front<a name="page_020" id="page_020"></a> of him, using his favorite hold—a half +nelson and body scissors—that the punishing nature of the familiar grip +roused Diana to an understanding of her great good fortune. "Quite +suddenly she knew—knew that she loved him, that she had loved him for a +long time, even when she thought that she hated him and when she had +fled from him. She knew now why his face had haunted her in the little +oasis at midday—that it was love calling to her sub-consciously." And +all the time poor, foolish Diana had imagined that it was arnica which +she wanted.</p> + +<p>Even after Ben Hassan had succeeded in impressing Diana with his +affection, we feared that the story would not end happily. While riding +some miles away from their own carefully restricted oasis Diana was +captured by another Arab chief named Ibraheim Omair. It seemed to us +that he was in his way just as persuasive a wooer as Ben Hassan. We +read, "He forced her to her knees, and, with his hand twined brutally in +her curls, thrust her head back," and later, "She realized that he was +squeezing the life out of her." Worst of all from the point of view of a +Ben Hassan partisan (and by this time we too had learned to love him) +was the moment in which Omair dashed his hand against Diana's mouth, for +the author records that "She caught it in her teeth, biting it to the +bone." We feared, then, that Diana's heart was turning to this new and +wondrously rowdy Arab. Already it was quite evident that she was not +indifferent to him. Fortunately Ahmed came in time to shoot Omair before +Diana's Unconscious<a name="page_021" id="page_021"></a> could flash to her any realization of a new love.</p> + +<p>And the book does end happily, even more happily than anybody has a +right to expect. Ahmed is badly wounded but only in the head, and +recovers without any impairment of his punching power. The greatest +surprise of all is reserved for the last chapter, when Diana and the +reader learn that Ben isn't really an Arab at all, but the eldest son of +Lord Glencaryll, and of Lady Glencaryll, too, for that matter. It seems +Lord Glencaryll drank excessively, although his title was one of the +oldest in England. Lady Glencaryll left him on account of his alcoholism +and went to the Sahara desert for rest and contrast. A courtly sheik +gave her shelter in his oasis. Here her son was born, and when he heard +about his father's disgraceful conduct he turned Arab and stayed that +way. Of course, if he had intended nothing more than a protest against +overindulgence in alcoholic liquors he could have turned American. We +suppose such a device would not have seemed altogether plausible. No +Englishman could pass for an American. Nor can we say that we are +altogether satisfied with the ending even as it stands. For all we know +E. M. Hull may decide to take a shot at Uncle Tom's Cabin and add a +chapter revealing the fact that Uncle Tom was not actually a colored man +but the child of a couple of Caucasians who had happened to get a little +sunburned. We are not even sure that E. M. Hull is a woman. Publishers +do get fooled about such things. According to our theory, the E stands +for Egbert. He is, we think, at least five feet<a name="page_022" id="page_022"></a> four inches tall and +lives in Bloomsbury, in very respectable bachelor diggings. He has never +been to the desert or near it, but if "The Sheik" continues to run +through new editions he plans to take a jaunt to the East. He thinks it +might help his hay fever.<a name="page_023" id="page_023"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="II" id="II"></a>II<br /><br /> +JOHN ROACH STRATON</h3> + +<p>In the course of his Sabbath day talk at Calvary Baptist Church the +other day the Rev. Dr. John Roach Straton spoke of "miserable Charlie +Chaplin," or words to that effect. This seems to us an expression of the +more or less natural antipathy of a man who regards life trivially for a +serious artist. It is the venom of the clown confronted by the comedian.</p> + +<p>Dr. Straton is, of course, an utter materialist. He is concerned with +such temporal and evanescent things as hellfire, and a heaven which he +has pictured in one of his sermons as a sort of glorified Coney Island. +Moreover, he has created a deity in his own image and has presented the +invisible king as merely a somewhat more mannerly John Roach Straton. +And while Dr. Straton has been thus engaged in debasing the ideals of +mankind, Charlie Chaplin has brought to great masses of people some +glint of things which are eternal. He has managed to show us beauty and, +better than that, he has contrived to put us at ease in this presence. +We belong to a Nation which is timorous of beauty, but Charlie has +managed to soothe our fears by proving to us that it may also be merry.</p> + +<p>While Straton has been talking about jazz, debauchery, modesty, +vengeance and other ugly things,<a name="page_024" id="page_024"></a> Chaplin has given us the story of a +child. "The Kid" captured a little of that curiously exalted something +which belongs to paternity. All spiritual things must have in them a +childlike quality. The belief in immortality rests not very much on the +hope of going on. Few of us want to do that, but we would like very much +to begin again.</p> + +<p>Naturally, we are under no delusions as to the innate goodness even of +very small children. They are bad a great deal of the time, but before +it has been knocked out of them they see no limit to the potentialities +of the human will. Theirs is the faith to move mountains, because they +do not yet know the fearful heft of them. The world is merely a rather +big sandpile and much may be done to it with a tin pail and shovel. We +would capture such confidence again.</p> + +<p>As a matter of fact, a great deal could be done with a pail and shovel. +We do not try because we have lost our nerve. Nobody will ever get it +back again by listening to Dr. Straton. He seems solely intent upon +detailing the limitations and the frailties of man. We think he has +outgrown his soul a little. He has sold his birthright for a mess of +potterism.</p> + +<p>But Charlie Chaplin moves through the world which he pictures on the +screen like a mischievous child. He confounds all the gross villains who +come against him. His smile is a token and a symbol that man is too +merry to die utterly. Fearful things menace us, but they will flee +before the audacious one who has the fervor to draw back his foot and +let it fly.</p> + +<p>Of course, we are not advocating any suppression<a name="page_025" id="page_025"></a> of Dr. Straton by +censorship. We regard him and his sermons as a bad influence. But after +all, the man or woman who strays into Dr. Straton's church knows what to +expect. In justice to the clergyman it must be said that he has never +made any secret of his methods or his message. There is no deception. +Sentimentally, we think it rather shocking that these talks of his +should occur on Sunday. There really ought to be one day of the week +upon which the citizens of New York turn away from frivolity. And still +we do not urge that the Sunday Law be amended to include the +performances of John Roach Straton. He is not one whit worse than some +of the sensational Sunday magazines.<a name="page_026" id="page_026"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="III" id="III"></a>III<br /><br /> +PRIVATE OWNERSHIP OF OFFSPRING</h3> + +<p>Fannie Hurst gurgles with joy over the fact that her heroine in "Star +Dust" is able to look over the whole tray of babies which is brought to +her in the hospital and pick out her own. Miss Hurst attributes Lily's +feat to "her mother instinct." A friend of ours, more practically minded +than the novelist, suggests that she might have been aided by the fact +that hospitals invariably place an identification tag around the neck of +each child. For our part we have never been able to understand the fear +of some parents about babies getting mixed up in the hospital. What +difference does it make so long as you get a good one? Another's may be +better than your own and Lily, with a whole tray from which to choose, +should not have made an instinctive clutch immediately for her own. It +would have been rational for the lady in the story to have looked at +them all before coming to any decision.</p> + +<p>Of course, to tell the truth, there isn't much choice in the little +ones. They need much more than necklaces with names on them to be +persons. There really ought to be some system whereby small children +after being born could be kept in the shop for<a name="page_027" id="page_027"></a> a considerable period, +like puppies, and not turned over to parents or guardians until in a +condition more disciplined than usual. None of them amounts to much +during the first year. We can't see, for the life of us, why your own +should be any more interesting or precious to you during this time than +the child of anybody else.</p> + +<p>After two, of course, they are persons, but a parent must have a good +deal of imagination if he can see much of himself in a child. Oh, yes, a +nose or the eyes or the color of the hair or something like that, but +the world is full of snub noses and brown eyes. To us it never seemed +much more than a coincidence. And if it were something more, what of it? +How can a man work up any inspiring sentimental gratification over the +fact that after he is gone his nose will persist in the world? The hope +of immortality through offspring offers no solace to us. The joys of +being an ancestor are exaggerated.</p> + +<p>Mind you, we do not mean for a moment to cry down the undeniable +pleasure which arises from the privilege of being associated with a +child of more than two years of age. For a person in rugged health who +is not particularly dressed up and does not want to write a letter or +read the newspaper, we can imagine few diversions more enjoyable than to +have a child turned loose upon him. His own, if you wish, but only in +the sense that it is the one to which he has become accustomed. The +sense of paternity has nothing on earth to do with the fun. Only a +person extraordinarily satisfied with himself can derive pleasure if +this child in his house is a little person<a name="page_028" id="page_028"></a> who gives him back nothing +but a reflection. You want a new story and not the old one, which wasn't +particularly satisfactory in the first place. We want Heywood Broun, +3rd, to start from scratch without having to lug along anything we have +left him. As a matter of fact, we like him just as well as if he were no +relation at all, because he seems to be a person quite different from +what we might have expected. When he says he doesn't want to take a bath +we feel abashed and wish we had been a cleaner child, but for the most +part we find him leading his own life altogether. When he bends over the +Victrola and plays the Siegfried Funeral March over and over again we +have no feeling of guilt. We know we can't be blamed for that. He never +got it from us.</p> + +<p>And again, he is a person utterly strange, and therefore twice as +interesting, when we find him standing up to people, us for instance, +and saying that he won't do this or that because he doesn't want to. +Much sharper than a serpent's tooth is the pleasure of an abject parent +who finds himself the father of a stubborn child. If the people from the +hospital should suddenly call up to-morrow and say, "We find we've made +a mistake. We sent the wrong child to you three years ago, but now we +can exchange him and rectify everything," we would say, "No, this one's +been around quite a while now and is giving approximate satisfaction, +and if you don't mind you can keep the real one."</p> + +<p>Plays and novels which picture meetings between fathers and sons parted +from birth or before have always seemed singularly unconvincing to us. +The<a name="page_029" id="page_029"></a> old man says "My boy! My boy!" and weeps, and the young man looks +him warmly in the eye and says, "There, there." Not a bit like it is our +guess. If we had never seen H, 3rd, and had then met him at the end of +twenty years, we wouldn't be particularly interested. Strangers always +embarrass us. It would not even shock us much to find that they had sent +him to Yale or that he brushed his hair straight back or wore spats. +There are to us no ties at all just in being a father. A son is +distinctly an acquired taste. It's the practice of parenthood that makes +you feel that, after all, there may be something in it. And anybody's +child will do for practice.<a name="page_030" id="page_030"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="IV" id="IV"></a>IV<br /><br /> +G. K. C.</h3> + +<p>The ship news man said that Gilbert K. Chesterton was staying at the +Commodore and the telephone girl said he wasn't, but we'd trust even a +ship news man before a hotel central and so we persisted.</p> + +<p>In fact, we almost persuaded her.</p> + +<p>"Maybe he's connected with one of the automobile companies that are +exhibiting here," she suggested, helpfully. For a moment we wondered if +by any chance the hotel authorities had made an error and placed him in +the lobby with the ten-ton trucks. It seemed too fantastic.</p> + +<p>"He's not with any automobile company," we said severely. "Didn't you +ever hear of 'The Man Who Was Thursday'?"</p> + +<p>"He may have been here Thursday, but he's not registered now," she +answered with some assurance. We didn't seem to be getting on. "It's a +book," we shouted. "He wrote it."</p> + +<p>"Not in this hotel," said central with an air of finality and rang off +before we could try her out on "Man Alive" or "The Ball and the Cross." +Still, it turned out eventually that she was right for it was the +Biltmore which at last acknowledged Mr. Chesterton<a name="page_031" id="page_031"></a> somewhat reluctantly +after we had spelled out the name.</p> + +<p>"Not in his room, but somewhere about the hotel," was the message.</p> + +<p>"You can find him," said the city editor with confidence. "Just take +this picture with you. He's sort of fat and he speaks with an English +accent."</p> + +<p>We had a more helpful description than that in our mind, because we +remembered Chesterton's answer when a sweet girl admirer once remarked, +"It must be wonderful to walk along the streets when everybody knows who +you are."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Chesterton; "and if they don't know they ask."</p> + +<p>He wasn't in the bar, but we found him in the smoking room. He was +giving somebody an interview without much enthusiasm. It seemed to be +the last round. Chesterton was beginning to droop. Every paradox, we +feared, had been hammered out of him. He rose a little wearily and +started for the elevator. We chased him. At last we had the satisfaction +of finding some one we could outrun. He paused, and now we know the look +which the Wedding Guest must have given to the Ancient Mariner.</p> + +<p>"It's for the New York <i>Tribune</i>," we said.</p> + +<p>"How about next week?" suggested Mr. Chesterton.</p> + +<p>"It's a daily newspaper," we remonstrated. "You know—Grantland Rice and +The Conning Tower and When a Feller Needs a Friend."</p> + +<p>Something in the title of the Briggs series must have touched him. +"To-morrow, perhaps," he answered. Feeling that the mountain was about +to come<a name="page_032" id="page_032"></a> through we stood our ground like another Mahomet. Better than +that we rose to one of the few superb moments in our life. Looking at +Mr. Chesterton coldly we said slowly, "It must be now or never." And we +used a gesture. The nature of it escapes us, but it was something +appropriate. Later we wondered just what reply would have been possible +if he had answered, "Never." After the danger had passed we realized +that we had been holding up the visitor with an empty gun. It must have +been our manner which awed him and he stopped walking and almost turned +around.</p> + +<p>"The press men have been here since two o'clock," he complained more in +sorrow than in anger. "What is it you want to know?"</p> + +<p>At that stage of the interview the advantage passed to him. The whole +world lay before us. Dimly we could hear the problems of a great and +unhappy universe flapping in our ears and urging us with unintelligible, +hoarse caws to present their cases for solution. And still we stood +there unable to think of a single thing which we wanted to know.</p> + +<p>Mostly we had read Chesterton on rum and religion, but there were too +many people passing to give the proper atmosphere for any such +confidential questions. Moreover, if he should question us in turn we +realized that we would be unable to give him any information as to when +to boil and when to skim, nor did we feel sufficiently well disposed to +let him in on the name of the drug store where you say "I'm a patient of +Dr. Brown's" and are forthwith allowed to buy gin.<a name="page_033" id="page_033"></a></p> + +<p>All the questions we had ever asked anybody in our life passed rapidly +before us. "What do you think of our tall buildings?" "Have you ever +thought of playing Hamlet?" "Why are you called the woman with the most +beautiful legs in Paris?" We remembered that the last had seemed silly +even when we first used it on Mistinguett. On second thought we had told +the interpreter to let it drop because the photographers were anxious to +begin. There seemed to be even less sense to it now. Indeed none of our +familiar inquiries struck us as appropriate.</p> + +<p>"What American authors do you read?" we ventured timidly, and added +"living ones" hoping to get something about "Main Street" for +Wednesday's book column.</p> + +<p>"I don't read any," he answered.</p> + +<p>That seemed to us a possible handicap in pursuing that line of inquiry.</p> + +<p>"I don't read any living English authors, either," Mr. Chesterton added +hastily, as if he feared that he had trod upon our patriotism. "Nothing +but dead authors and detective stories."</p> + +<p>That we had expected. In the march up to the heights of fame there comes +a spot close to the summit in which man reads "nothing but detective +stories." It is the Antæan touch which distinguishes all Olympians. As +you remember, Antæus was the demigod who had to touch the earth every +once and so often to preserve his immortality. Probably he did it by +reading a good murder story.</p> + +<p>"Can you tell me what 'Mary Rose' is all about?" we suggested, still +fumbling for a literary theme.<a name="page_034" id="page_034"></a></p> + +<p>"I haven't seen 'Mary Rose,'" said Mr. Chesterton, although he did go on +to tell us that Barrie had done several excellent plays. Probably there +was a long pause then while we tried to think up something provocative +about the Irish question.</p> + +<p>"If you really will excuse me, I must go to my room," he burst out. "The +press men have been here ever since two o'clock."</p> + +<p>This, of course, is no land in which to stand between a man and his +room, where heaven knows what solace may await the distinguished visitor +who has been spending two and a half hours with the press men. We +stepped aside willingly enough. Still, we must confess a slight +disappointment in Gilbert K. Chesterton. He's not as fat as we had +heard.<a name="page_035" id="page_035"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="V" id="V"></a>V<br /><br /> +ON BEING A GOD</h3> + +<p>We have found a way to feel very close kin to the high gods. The notion +that we too leaned out from the gold bar of heaven came to us suddenly +as we sat in the right field bleachers of one of the big theaters which +provide a combination bill of vaudeville and motion pictures. The +process of deification occurred during the vaudeville portion of the +program.</p> + +<p>The stage was several miles away. We could see perfectly and hear +nothing as it was said. Curious little, insect-like people moved about +the stage aimlessly. And yet there was every evidence that they took +themselves seriously. You would be surprised if you watched ants +conducting a performance and calling for light cues and such things. It +would puzzle you to know why one particular ant took care to provide +himself with a flood of red and another just as arbitrarily chose green.</p> + +<p>Still, these were not ants but potentially men and women. They had +names—Kerrigan and Vane, the Kaufman Trio, Miss Minstrel Co. and many +others. From where we sat they were insects. It seemed to us that it +would be no trouble at all to flip the three strong men and the pony +ballet into oblivion with one<a name="page_036" id="page_036"></a> finger. The little finger would be the +most suitable.</p> + +<p>And there were times when we wanted to do it. Only, the feeling that we +were too new a god to impose a doom restrained us. No divine patience +was in us, but we felt that if we could wait a while it might come. The +agitated atoms annoyed us. The audacity of "pony ballet" was almost +insufferable. Why, as in Gulliver's land, the biggest of the strong men +towered above the smallest of the ballet girls by at least the thickness +of a fingernail. And these performing ants were forever working to +entertain. They ran on and off the stage without apparent reason and +waved their antennæ about furiously. Two of the ants would stand close +together as if in conversation, and every now and then one of them would +hit the other brutally in the face.</p> + +<p>We did not know why and our sympathies went entirely to the one who was +struck. It was difficult not to interfere. We rather think that some of +the seemingly extraordinary judgments of the high gods between mortals +must be explained on the ground of a somewhat similar imperfect +knowledge. They too see us, but they cannot hear. Time is required for +sound to reach Olympus. When we get into warfare they observe only the +carnage and the turmoil. The preliminary explanations arrive several +years after the peace treaties have been signed, and then they sound +silly and entirely irrelevant.</p> + +<p>Accordingly, the high gods are rather loath to interfere in the wars of +earth. They are too far removed to understand causes, and even +trumpet-like shouts about national honor merely amble up to their<a name="page_037" id="page_037"></a> ears +through long lanes of retarding ether. Indeed, the period of transit is +so long that national honor invariably arrives at Olympus in poor +condition. Only when strictly fresh is it in the least inspiring. Little +old last century's national honor is quite unpalatable. It is food +neither for gods nor men.</p> + +<p>It was just as well that we waited before taking blind vengeance on the +vaudeville insects, because half an hour or so after the blows were +struck by the seemingly aggressive ant the conversation which preceded +the violence began to drift back to us. It came to our ears during the +turn of the strong men and created a rather uncanny effect. At first we +were puzzled because we had never known strong men to exchange any words +at all except the traditional "alleyup." Almost immediately we realized +that it was merely the tardiness of sound waves which caused the delay +of the dialogue in reaching us in our bleacher seat.</p> + +<p>Fortunately, in spite of our illusion of omnipotence, the distance from +the stage was not truly Olympian. The jokes came in time to be +appreciated. It seems that one of the ants, whom we shall immediately +christen A, told his friend and companion, B for convenience, that he +was taking two ladies to dinner and that he would like to have B in the +party, but that he, A, did not have sufficient funds to defray any +expense which he might incur. B admitted promptly that he himself had +nothing. Accordingly, A suggested a scheme for sociability's sake. He +urged B to come, but impressed upon him that<a name="page_038" id="page_038"></a> when asked as to what he +wished to eat or drink he should reply, "I don't care for anything."</p> + +<p>In order to guard against a slip-up the friendly ants rehearsed the +scene in advance. It ran something like this:</p> + +<p>A—August! August!</p> + +<p>B—You're a little wrong on your months. This is January.</p> + +<p>A (punching him)—You fool! August is the name of the waiter.</p> + +<p>The delay which retarded the progress of this joke to our ears impaired +its effectiveness a little. The rest was more sprightly.</p> + +<p>A—August, bring some chicken en casserole and combination salad for +myself and the two ladies. Oh, I've forgotten my friend. What will you +have?</p> + +<p>B—Bring me some pigs' knuckles.</p> + +<p>At this point A hit B for the second time and again called him a fool.</p> + +<p>A—Why did you say, "Bring me some pigs' knuckles?"</p> + +<p>B—Why did you ask me so pretty?</p> + +<p>Thereupon they rehearsed the situation again.</p> + +<p>A—Oh, I've forgotten my friend. Won't you have something? You must join +us.</p> + +<p>B—Sure, bring me a dish of ham and eggs.</p> + +<p>Again blows were struck and again A inquired ferociously as to the cause +of the slip-up.</p> + +<p>A—What made you say, "Bring me a dish of ham and eggs?"</p> + +<p>B—Well, why did you go and coax me?</p> + +<p>Earlier in the evening we had observed that other<a name="page_039" id="page_039"></a> blows were struck and +there must have been further dialogue to go with them, but we could not +wait for it to arrive. We rather hoped that the jokes would follow us +home, but they must have become lost on the way.</p> + +<p>Perhaps you don't think there was much sense to this talk anyway.</p> + +<p>Maybe the real gods on high Olympus feel the same way about us when our +words limp home.<a name="page_040" id="page_040"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="VI" id="VI"></a>VI<br /><br /> +CHIVALRY IS BORN</h3> + +<p>Every now and then we hear parents commenting on the fearful things +which motion pictures may do to the minds of children. They seem to +think that a little child is full of sweetness and of light. We had the +same notion until we had a chance to listen intently to the prattle of a +three-year-old. Now we know that no picture can possibly outdo him in +his own fictionized frightfulness.</p> + +<p>Of course, we had heard testimony to this effect from Freudians, but we +had supposed that all these horrible blood lusts and such like were +suppressed. Unfortunately, our own son is without reticence. We have a +notion that each individual goes through approximately the same stages +of progress as the race. Heywood Broun, 3d, seemed not yet quite as high +as the cavemen in his concepts. For the last few months he has been +harping continuously, and chiefly during meal times, about cutting off +people's noses and gouging out eyes. In his range of speculative +depredations he has invariably seemed liberal.</p> + +<p>There seemed to us, then, no reason to fear that new notions of horror +would come to Heywood Broun, 3d, from any of the pictures being licensed +at present in this State. As a matter of fact, he has received<a name="page_041" id="page_041"></a> from the +films his first notions of chivalry. Of course, we are not at all sure +that this is beneficial. We like his sentimentalism a little worse than +his sadism.</p> + +<p>After seeing "Tol'able David," for instance, we had a long argument. +Since our experience with motion pictures is longer than his we often +feel reasonably certain that our interpretation of the happenings is +correct and we do not hesitate to contradict H. 3d, although he is so +positive that sometimes our confidence is shaken. We knew that he was +all wrong about "Tol'able David" because it was quite evident that he +had become mixed in his mind concerning the hero and the villain. He +kept insisting that David was a bad man because he fought. Pacifism has +always seemed to us an appealing philosophy, but it came with bad grace +from such a swashbuckling disciple of frightfulness as H. 3d.</p> + +<p>However, we did not develop that line of reasoning but contended that +David had to fight in order to protect himself. Woodie considered this +for a while and then answered triumphantly, "David hit a woman."</p> + +<p>Our disgust was unbounded. Film life had seared the child after all. +Actually, it was not David who hit the woman but the villainous Luke +Hatburn, the terrible mountaineer. That error in observation was not the +cause of our worry. The thing that bothered us was that here was a young +individual, not yet four years of age, who was already beginning to talk +in terms of "the weaker vessel" and all the other phrases<a name="page_042" id="page_042"></a> of a romantic +school we believed to be dying. It could not have shocked us more if he +had said, "Woman's place is in the home."</p> + +<p>"David hit a woman," he piped again, seeming to sense our consternation. +"What of it?" we cried, but there was no bullying him out of his point +of view. The fault belongs entirely to the motion pictures. H. 3d cannot +truthfully say that he has had the slightest hint from us as to any sex +inferiority of women. By word and deed we have tried to set him quite +the opposite example. We have never allowed him to detect us for an +instant in any chivalrous act or piece of partial sex politeness. Toasts +such as "The ladies, God bless 'em" are not drunk in our house, nor has +Woodie ever heard "Shall we join the ladies," "the fair sex," "the +weaker sex," or any other piece of patronizing masculine poppycock. +Susan B. Anthony's picture hangs in his bedroom side by side with +Abraham Lincoln and the big elephant. He has led a sheltered life and +has never been allowed to play with nice children.</p> + +<p>But, somehow or other, chivalry and romanticism creep into each life +even through barred windows. We have no intention of being too hard upon +the motion pictures. Something else would have introduced it. These +phases belong in the development of the race. H. 3d must serve his time +as gentle knight just as he did his stint in the rôle of sadistic +caveman. Presently, we fear, he will get to the crusades and we shall +suffer during a period in which he will try to improve our manners. +History will then be our only consolation. We shall try to bear<a name="page_043" id="page_043"></a> up +secure in the knowledge that the dark ages are still ahead of him.</p> + +<p>We hoped that the motion pictures might be used as an antidote against +the damage which they had done. We took H. 3d to see Nazimova in "A +Doll's House." There was a chance, we thought, that he might be moved by +the eloquent presentation of the fact that before all else a woman is a +human being and just as eligible to be hit as anybody else. We read him +the caption embodying Nora's defiance, but at the moment it flashed upon +the screen he had crawled under his seat to pick up an old program and +the words seemed to have no effect. Indeed when Nora went out into the +night, slamming the door behind her, he merely hazarded that she was +"going to Mr. Butler's." Mr. Butler happens to be our grocer.</p> + +<p>The misapprehension was not the fault of Nazimova. She flung herself out +of the house magnificently, but Heywood Broun, 3d, insisted on believing +that she had gone around the corner for a dozen eggs.</p> + +<p>In discussing the picture later, we found that he had quite missed the +point of Mr. Ibsen's play. Of Nora, the human being, he remembered +nothing. It was only Nora, the mother, who had impressed him. All he +could tell us about the great and stimulating play was that the lady had +crawled on the floor with her little boy and her little girl. And yet it +seems to us that Ibsen has told his story with singular clarity.</p> + +<p>D'Artagnan Woodie likes very much. He is fond of recalling to our mind +the fact that D'Artagnan<a name="page_044" id="page_044"></a> "walked on the roof in his nightshirt." H. 3d +is not allowed on the roof nor is he permitted to wander about in his +nightshirt.</p> + +<p>Perhaps the child's introduction to the films has been somewhat too +haphazard. As we remember, the first picture which we saw together was +called "Is Life Worth Living?" The worst of it is that circumstances +made it necessary for us to leave before the end and so neither of us +found out the answer.<a name="page_045" id="page_045"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="VII" id="VII"></a>VII<br /><br /> +RUTH VS. ROTH</h3> + +<p>We picked up "Who's Who in America" yesterday to get some vital +statistics about Babe Ruth, and found to our surprise that he was not in +the book. Even as George Herman Ruth there is no mention of him. The +nearest name we could find was: "Roth, Filibert, forestry expert; b. +Wurttemberg, Germany, April 20, 1858; s. Paul Raphael and Amalie (Volz) +R., early edn. in Württemberg——"</p> + +<p>There is in our heart not an atom of malice against Prof. Roth (since +September, 1903, he has been "prof. forestry, U. Mich."), and yet we +question the justice of his admission to a list of national celebrities +while Ruth stands without. We know, of course, that Prof. Roth is the +author of "Forest Conditions in Wisconsin" and of "The Uses of Wood," +but we wonder whether he has been able to describe in words uses of wood +more sensational and vital than those which Ruth has shown in deeds. +Hereby we challenge the editor of "Who's Who in America" to debate the +affirmative side of the question: Resolved, That Prof. Roth's volume +called "Timber Physics" has exerted a more profound influence in the +life of America than Babe Ruth's 1921 home-run record.</p> + +<p>The question is, of course, merely a continuation<a name="page_046" id="page_046"></a> of the ancient +controversy as to the relative importance of the theorist and the +practitioner; should history prefer in honor the man who first developed +the hypothesis that the world was round or the other who went out and +circumnavigated it? What do we owe to Ben Franklin and what to the +lightning? Shall we celebrate Newton or the apple?</p> + +<p>Personally, our sympathies go out to the performer rather than the +fellow in the study or the laboratory. Many scientists staked their +reputations on the fact that the world was round before Magellan set +sail in the <i>Vittoria</i>. He did not lack written assurances that there +was no truth in the old tale of a flat earth with dragons and monsters +lurking just beyond the edges.</p> + +<p>But suppose, in spite of all this, Magellan had gone on sailing, sailing +until his ship did topple over into the void of dragons and big snakes. +The professors would have been abashed. Undoubtedly they would have +tried to laugh the misfortune off, and they might even have been good +enough sports to say, "That's a fine joke on us." But at worst they +could lose nothing but their reputations, which can be made over again. +Magellan would not live to profit by his experience. Being one of those +foreigners, he had no sense of humor, and if the dragons bit him as he +fell, it is ten to one he could not even manage to smile.</p> + +<p>By this time we have rather traveled away from Roth's "Timber Physics" +and Ruth's home-run record, but we hope that you get what we mean. +Without knowing the exact nature of "Timber Physics," we assume that the +professor discusses the most efficient<a name="page_047" id="page_047"></a> manner in which to bring about +the greatest possible impact between any wooden substance and a given +object. But mind you, he merely discusses it. If the professor chances +to be wrong, even if he is wrong three times, nobody in the classroom is +likely to poke a sudden finger high in the air and shout, "You're out!"</p> + +<p>The professor remains at bat during good behavior. He is not subject to +any such sudden vicissitudes as Ruth. Moreover, timber physics is to Mr. +Roth a matter of cool and calm deliberation. No adversary seeks to fool +him with speed or spitballs. "Hit it out" never rings in his ears. And +after all, just what difference does it make if Mr. Roth errs in his +timber physics? It merely means that a certain number of students leave +Michigan knowing a little less than they should—and nobody expects +anything else from students.</p> + +<p>On the other hand, a miscalculation by Ruth in the uses of wood affects +much more important matters. A strike-out on his part may bring about +complete tragedy and the direst misfortune. There have been occasions, +and we fear that there will still be occasions, when Ruth's bat will be +the only thing which stands between us and the loss of the American +League pennant. In times like these who cares about "Forest Conditions +in Wisconsin"?</p> + +<p>Coming to the final summing up for our side of the question at debate, +we shall try to lift the whole affair above any mere Ruth versus Roth +issue. It will be our endeavor to show that not only has Babe Ruth been +a profound interest and influence in America,<a name="page_048" id="page_048"></a> but that on the whole he +has been a power for progress. Ruth has helped to make life a little +more gallant. He has set before us an example of a man who tries each +minute for all or nothing. When he is not knocking home runs he is +generally striking out, and isn't there more glory in fanning in an +effort to put the ball over the fence than in prolonging a little life +by playing safe?<a name="page_049" id="page_049"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="VIII" id="VIII"></a>VIII<br /><br /> +THE BIGGER THE YEAR</h3> + +<p>As soon as we heard that "The Big Year—A College Story" by Meade +Minnigerode was about Yale we knew that we just had to read it. Tales of +travel and curious native customs have always fascinated us. According +to Mr. Minnigerode the men of Yale walk about their campus in big blue +sweaters with "Y's" on them, smoking pipes and singing college songs +under the windows of one another. The seniors, he informs us, come out +on summer afternoons on roller skates.</p> + +<p>Of course, we are disposed to believe that Mr. Minnigerode, like all +travelers in strange lands, is prone to color things a little more +highly than exact accuracy would sanction. We felt this particularly +when he began to write about Yale football. There was, for instance, +Curly Corliss, the captain of the eleven, who is described as "starting +off after a punt to tear back through a broken field, thirty and forty +yards at a clip, tackling an opposing back with a deadliness which was +final—never hurt, always smiling—a blond head of curly hair (he never +wore a headguard) flashing in and out across the field, the hands +clapping together, the plaintive voice calling 'All right, all right, +give me the ball!' when a game<a name="page_050" id="page_050"></a> was going badly, and then carrying it +alone to touchdown after touchdown."</p> + +<p>Although we have seen all of Yale's recent big games we recognized none +of that except "the plaintive voice" and even that would have been more +familiar if it had been used to say "Moral victory!" We waited to find +Mr. Minnigerode explaining that of course he was referring to the annual +contest with the Springfield Training School, but he did no such thing +and went straight ahead with the pretense that football at Yale is +romantic. To be sure, he attempts to justify this attitude by letting us +see a good deal of the gridiron doings through the eyes of a bull +terrier who could not well be expected to be captious. Champ, named +after the Yale chess team, came by accident to the field just as Curly +Corliss was off on one of his long runs. Yes, it was a game against the +scrubs. "Some one came tearing along and lunged at Curly as he went by, +apparently trying to grab him about the legs. Champ cast all caution to +the winds. Interfere with Curly, would he? Well, Champ guessed not! Like +an arrow from a bow Champ hurled himself through the air and fastened +his jaws firmly in the seat of the offender's pants, in a desperate +effort to prevent him from further molesting Curly."</p> + +<p>Champ was immediately adopted by the team as mascot. It seems to us he +deserved more, for this was the first decent piece of interference seen +on Yale field in years. The associate mascot was Jimmy, a little +newsboy, who also took football at New Haven seriously. His romanticism, +like that of Champ, was<a name="page_051" id="page_051"></a> understandable. Hadn't Curly Corliss once saved +his life? We need not tell you that he had. "Jimmy," as Mr. Minnigerode +tells the story, "started to run across the street, without noticing the +street-car lumbering around the corner... and then before he knew it +Jimmy tripped and fell, and the car was almost on top of him grinding +its brakes. Jimmy never knew exactly what happened in the next few +seconds, but he heard people shouting, and then something struck him and +he was dragged violently away by the seat of the pants. When he could +think connectedly again he was sitting on the curb considerably +battered—and Curly was sitting beside him, with his trousers torn, +nursing a badly cut hand."</p> + +<p>We remember there was an incident like that in Cambridge once, only the +man who rescued the newsboy was not the football captain but a +substitute on the second team. We have forgotten his name. Unlike +Corliss of Yale, the Harvard man did not bother to pick up the newsboy. +Instead he seized the street car and threw it for a loss.</p> + +<p class="c">* * * * *</p> + +<p>The first half was over and Princeton led by a score of 10 to 0. Things +looked blue for Yale. Neither mascot was on hand. Yale was trying to win +with nothing but students. Where was little Jimmy the newsboy? If you +must know he was in the hospital, for he had been run over again. The +boy could not seem to break himself of the habit. Unfortunately he had +picked out the afternoon of the Princeton game when all the Yale players +were much too busy trying to stop Tigers to have any time to<a name="page_052" id="page_052"></a> interfere +with traffic. It was only an automobile this time and Jimmy escaped with +a mere gash over one eye. Champ, the bull terrier who caused the mixup, +was uninjured. "I'm all right now," Jimmy told the doctor, "honest I +am—can I go—I gotta take Champ out to the game—he's the mascot and +they can't win without him—please, Mister, let me go—I guess they need +us bad out there."</p> + +<p>Apparently the crying need of Yale football is not so much a coaching +system as a good leash to keep the mascots from getting run over. Champ +and Jimmy rushed into the locker room just as the big Blue team was +about to trot out for the second half. After that there was nothing to +it. Yale won by a score of 12 to 10. "Curly clapped his hands together," +writes Mr. Minnigerode in describing the rally, "and kept calling out +'Never mind the signal! Give me the ball' in his plaintive voice"——</p> + +<p>This sounds more like Yale football than anything else in the book. +However, it sufficed. Curly made two touchdowns and all the Yale men +went to Mory's and sang "Curly Corliss, Curly Corliss, he will leave old +Harvard scoreless." It is said that a legend is now gaining ground in +New Haven that Yale will not defeat Harvard again until it is led by +some other captain whose name rhymes with "scoreless." The current +captain of the Elis is named Jordan. The only thing that rhymes with is +"scored on."</p> + +<p>Still, as Professor Billy Phelps has taught his students to say, +football isn't everything. Perhaps something of Sparta has gone from +Yale, for a few years or forever, but just look at the Yale poets and<a name="page_053" id="page_053"></a> +novelists all over the place. There is a new kindliness at New Haven. +Take for instance the testimony of the same "Big Year" when it describes +a touching little scene between Curly Corliss, the captain of the Yale +football team, and his room mate as they are revealed in the act of +retiring for the night:</p> + +<p>"'Angel!'</p> + +<p>"'Yeah,' very sleepily.</p> + +<p>"'They all seem to get over it!'</p> + +<p>"'Over what?'</p> + +<p>"'The fellows who have graduated,' Curly explained. 'I guess they all +feel pretty poor when they leave, but they get over it right away. It's +just like changing into a new suit, I expect.'</p> + +<p>"'Yeah, I guess so'....</p> + +<p>"'Well, goo' night, little feller'....</p> + +<p>"'Goo' night, Teddy.'"</p> + +<p>But we do wish Mr. Minnigerode had been a little more explicit and had +told us who tucked them in.<a name="page_054" id="page_054"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="IX" id="IX"></a>IX<br /><br /> +FOR OLD NASSAU</h3> + +<p>Wadsworth Camp, we find, has done almost as much for Princeton in his +novel, "The Guarded Heights," as Meade Minnigerode has accomplished for +Yale in "The Big Year."</p> + +<p>George Morton might never have gone to any college if it had not been +for Sylvia Planter. He was enamored of her from the very beginning when +old Planter engaged him to accompany his daughter on rides, but his +admiration did not become articulate until she fell off her horse. She +seems to have done it extremely well. "He saw her horse refuse," writes +Mr. Camp, "straightening his knees and sliding in the marshy ground. He +watched Sylvia, with an ease and grace nearly unbelievable, somersault +across the hedge and out of sight in the meadow beyond."</p> + +<p>It seemed to us that the horse should have received some of the credit +for the ease with which Sylvia shot across the hedge, but young Morton +was much too intent upon the fate of his goddess to have eyes for +anything else. When he found her lying on the ground she was +unconscious, and so he told her of his love. That brought her to and she +called him "You—you—stable boy." And so George decided to go to +college.<a name="page_055" id="page_055"></a></p> + +<p>His high school preparation had been scant and irregular. He went to +Princeton, and after two months' cramming passed all his examinations. +Football attracted him from the first as a means to the advancement +which he desired. "With surprised eyes," writes our author, "he saw +estates as extravagant as Oakmont, and frequently in better taste. +Little by little he picked up the names of the families that owned them. +He told himself that some day he would enter those places as a guest, +bowed to by such servants as he had been. It was possible, he promised +himself bravely, if only he could win a Yale or a Harvard game."</p> + +<p>Perhaps this explains why one meets so few Princeton men socially. Some, +we have found, are occasionally invited to drop in after dinner. These, +we assume, are recruited from the ranks of those Princetonians who have +tied Yale or Harvard or at least held the score down.</p> + +<p>Like Mr. Minnigerode, Mr. Camp employs symbolism in his story. In the +Yale novel we had Corliss evidently standing for Coy. Just which +Princeton hero George Morton represents we are not prepared to say. In +fact, the only Princeton name which comes to mind at the moment is that +of Big Bill Edwards who used to sit in the Customs House and throw them +all for a loss. Morton can hardly be intended for Edwards because it +seems unlikely that anybody would ever have engaged Big Bill to ride +horses; no, not even to break them. A little further on, however, we are +introduced to the Princeton coach, a certain Mr. Stringham. Here, to be +sure,<a name="page_056" id="page_056"></a> identification is easy. Stringham, we haven't a doubt, is Roper. +We could wish Mr. Camp had been more subtle. He might, for instance, +have called him Cordier.</p> + +<p>In some respects Morton proved an even better football player than +Corliss. He did not score any greater number of touchdowns, but he had +more of an air with him. Thus, in the account of the Harvard game it is +recorded: "Then, with his interference blocked and tumbling, George +yielded to his old habit and slipped off to one side at a hazard. The +enemy's secondary defense had been drawing in, there was no one near +enough to stop him within those ten yards and he went over for a +touchdown and casually kicked the goal."</p> + +<p>Eventually, George Morton did get asked to all the better houses, but +still Sylvia spurned him. "Go away and don't bother me," was the usual +form of her replies to his ardent words of wooing. Naturally he knew +that he had her on the run. A man who had taken more than one straight +arm squarely in the face during the course of his football career was +not to be rebuffed by a slip of a girl.</p> + +<p>The war delayed matters for a time, and George went and was good at that +too. He was a major before he left Plattsburgh. For a time we feared +that he was in danger of becoming a snob, but the great democratizing +forces of the conflict carried him into the current. One of the most +thrilling chapters in the book tells how he exposed his life under very +heavy fire to go forward and rescue an American who turned out to be a +Yale man.<a name="page_057" id="page_057"></a></p> + +<p>There was no stopping George Morton. In the end he wore Sylvia down. +Nothing else could be expected from such a man. German machine guns and +heavy artillery had failed to stop him and he had even hit the Harvard +line, upon occasion, without losing a yard.</p> + +<p>His head was hard and he could not take a hint. In the end Sylvia just +had to marry him. Her right hand swing was not good enough. "As in a +dream he went to her, and her curved lips moved beneath his, but he +pressed them closer so that she couldn't speak; for he felt encircling +them in a breathless embrace, as his arms held her, something thrilling +and rudimentary that neither of them had experienced before——"</p> + +<p>And as we read the further details of the love scene it seemed to us +that George Morton had made a most fortunate choice when he decided to +go to Princeton. His football experience stood him in good stead in his +love-making, for he had been trained with an eleven which tackled around +the neck.<a name="page_058" id="page_058"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="X" id="X"></a>X<br /><br /> +MR. DEMPSEY'S FIVE-FOOT SHELF</h3> + +<p>It is hardly fair to expect Jack Dempsey to take literature very +seriously. How, for instance, can he afford to pay much attention to +George Bernard Shaw who declared just before the fight that Carpentier +could not lose and ought to be quoted at odds of fifty to one? From the +point of view of Dempsey, then, creative evolution, the superman and all +the rest, are the merest moonshine. He might well take the position that +since Mr. Shaw was so palpably wrong about the outcome of the fight two +days before it happened, it scarcely behooves anybody to pay much +attention to his predictions as to the fate of the world and mankind two +thousand years hence.</p> + +<p>Whatever the reason, Jack Dempsey does not read George Bernard Shaw +much. But he has heard of him. When some reporter came to Dempsey a day +or so before the fight and told him that Shaw had fixed fifty to one as +the proper odds on Carpentier, the champion made no comment. The +newspaper gossiper, disappointed of his sensation, asked if Dempsey had +ever heard of Shaw and the fighter stoutly maintained that he had. The +examination went no further but it is fair to assume that Dempsey did +know the great British sporting writer. It was<a name="page_059" id="page_059"></a> not remarkable that he +paid no attention to his prediction. Dempsey would not even be moved +much by a prediction from Hughie Fullerton.</p> + +<p>In other words literature and life are things divorced in Dempsey's +mind. He does read. The first time we ever saw Dempsey he discussed +books with not a little interest. He was not at his training quarters +when we arrived but his press agent showed us about—a singularly +reverential man this press agent. "This," he said, and he seemed to +lower his voice, "is the bed where Jack Dempsey sleeps." All the Louises +knew better beds and so did Lafayette even when a stranger in a strange +land. Washington himself fared better in the midst of war. Nor can it be +said that there was anything very compelling about the room in which +Dempsey slept. It had air but not much distinction. There were just two +pictures on the wall. One represented a heavy surf upon an indeterminate +but rather rockbound coast and the other showed a lady asleep with +cupids hovering about her bed. Although the thought is erotic the artist +had removed all that in the execution.</p> + +<p>Much more striking was the fact that upon a chair beside the bed of +Dempsey lay a couple of books and a magazine. It was not <i>The Bookman</i> +but <i>Photo Play</i>. The books were "The Czar's Spy" by William Le Queux, +"The Spoilers" by Rex Beach, and at least one other Western novel which +we have unfortunately forgotten. It was, as we remember it, the Luck of +the Lazy Something or Other. The press agent said that Jack read quite a +little and pointed to the reading light which had been strung over his +bed.<a name="page_060" id="page_060"></a> He then went on to show us the clothes closet and the bureau of +the champion to prove that he was no slave to fashion. We can testify +that only one pair of shoes in the room had gray suede tops. Then we saw +the kitchen and were done.</p> + +<p>There had been awe in the tones of the conductor from the beginning. +"Jack's going to have roast lamb for dinner to-night," he announced in +an awful hush. Even as we went out he could not resist lowering his +voice a little as he said, "This is the hat rack. This is where the +champion puts his hat." We had gone only fifty yards away from the house +when a big brown limousine drew up. "That," said the press agent, and +this time we feared he was going to die, "is Jack Dempsey himself."</p> + +<p>The preparation had been so similar to the first act of "Enter Madame" +that we expected temperament and gesture from the star. He put us wholly +at ease by being much more frightened than any one in the visiting +party. As somebody has said somewhere, "Any mouse can make this elephant +squeal." Jack Dempsey is decidedly a timid man and we found later that +he was a gentle one. He answered, "Yes, sir," and "No, sir," at first. +If we had his back and shoulders we'd have a civil word for no man. By +and by he grew a little more at ease and somebody asked him what he +read. He was not particularly strong on the names of books and he always +forgot the author, which detracts somewhat from this article as a guide +for readers. There were almost three hundred books at his disposal, +since his training quarters had once been an aviation camp. These<a name="page_061" id="page_061"></a> were +the books of the fliers. Practically all the popular novelists and short +story writers were represented. We remember seeing several titles by +Mary Roberts Rinehart, Irvin Cobb, Zane Grey, Rupert Hughes, and Rex +Beach. Older books were scarce. The only one we noticed was "A Tale of +Two Cities." This Dempsey had not read. Perhaps Jack Kearns advised +against it on account of the possible disturbing psychological effects +of the chapter with all the counting.</p> + +<p>Dempsey said he had devoted most of his time to Western novels. When +questioned he admitted that he did not altogether surrender himself to +them. "I was a cowboy once for a while," he said. "There's a lot of +hokum in those books." But when pressed as to what he really liked his +face did light up and he even remembered the name of the book. "There +was one book I've been reading," he burst out; "it's a fine book. It's +called 'The Czar's Spy.'"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," suggested Ruth Hale of the visiting party, "a grand duke +would say there was a lot of hokum in that."</p> + +<p>Dempsey was not to be deterred by any such higher criticism. Never +having been a grand duke, he did not worry about the accuracy of the +story. It was in a field far apart from life. That we gathered was his +idea of the proper field for fiction. In life Dempsey is a stern +realist. It is only in reading that he is romantic. A more +impressionable man would have been disturbed by the air of secrecy which +surrounded the camp of Carpentier. That never worried Dempsey. He +prepared himself and never thought<a name="page_062" id="page_062"></a> up contingencies. He did not even +like to talk fight. None of us drew him out much about boxing. Somebody +told him that Jim Corbett had reported that when he first met Carpentier +he had been vastly tempted to make a feint at the Frenchman to see +whether or not he would fall into a proper attitude of defense.</p> + +<p>"Yes," giggled Dempsey, "and it would have been funny if Carp had busted +him one on the chin." This seemed to him an extraordinary humorous +conceit and he kept chuckling over it every now and then. While he was +in this good humor somebody sounded him out as to what he would do if he +lost; or rather the comment was made that an old time fighter, once a +champion, was now coming back to the ring and had declared that he was +as good as he ever was.</p> + +<p>"Why shouldn't he?" said Dempsey just a little sharply. "Nobody wants to +see a man that says he isn't as good as he used to be."</p> + +<p>"Would you say that?" he was asked.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Dempsey, and this time he reflected a little, "it would all +depend on how I was fixed. If I needed the money I would. I'd use all +the old alibis."</p> + +<p>We liked that frankness and we liked Dempsey again when somebody wanted +to know how he could possibly say anything in the ring during the fight +to "get the goat of Carpentier." "We ain't nearly well enough acquainted +for that," said Dempsey and we gathered that he was of the opinion that +you must know a man pretty well before you can insult him. The champion +is not a man to whom one would look<a name="page_063" id="page_063"></a> for telling rejoinders, though he +has needed them often enough in the last year and a half. Criticism has +hurt him, for he is not insensitive. He is merely inarticulate. This +must have been the reason which prompted some sporting writers to feel +that he would come into the ring whipped and down from the fact that he +had been able to make no reply to all the charges brought against him. +It did not work out that way. Dempsey did have a means of expression and +he used it. There is no logic in force and yet a man can exclaim "Is +that so!" with his fists. Dempsey said it. If we may be allowed to +stretch a point it might even be hazarded that the champion's motto is +"Say it with cauliflowers."</p> + +<p>As the Freudians have it, fighting is his "escape." Decidedly, he is a +man with an inferiority complex. But for his boxing skill he would need +literature badly. As it is, he does not need to read about hair-breadth +escapes. He has them, such as in the second round of the fight on +Boyle's Thirty Acres.</p> + +<p>In summing up, we can only add that as yet literature has had no large +effect upon the life of Jack Dempsey.<a name="page_064" id="page_064"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="XI" id="XI"></a>XI<br /><br /> +SPORT FOR ART'S SAKE</h3> + +<p>For years we had been hearing about moral victories and at last we saw +one. This is not intended as an excuse for the fact that we said before +the fight that Carpentier would beat Dempsey. We erred with Bernard +Shaw. The surprising revelation which came to us on this July afternoon +was that a thing may be done well enough to make victory entirely +secondary. We have all heard, of course, of sport for sport's sake but +Georges Carpentier established a still more glamorous ideal. Sport for +art's sake was what he showed us in the big wooden saucer over on +Boyle's dirty acres.</p> + +<p>It was the finest tragic performance in the lives of ninety thousand +persons. We hope that Professor George Pierce Baker sent his class in +dramatic composition. We will be disappointed if Eugene O'Neill, the +white hope of the American drama, was not there. Here for once was a +laboratory demonstration of life. None of the crowds in Greece who went +to somewhat more beautiful stadiums in search of Euripides ever saw the +spirit of tragedy more truly presented. And we will wager that Euripides +was not able to lift his crowd up upon its hind legs into a concerted +shout of "Medea! Medea! Medea!" as Carpentier moved<a name="page_065" id="page_065"></a> the fight fans over +in Jersey City in the second round. In fact it is our contention that +the fight between Dempsey and Carpentier was the most inspiring +spectacle which America has seen in a generation.</p> + +<p>Personally we would go further back than that. We would not accept a +ticket for David and Goliath as a substitute. We remember that in that +instance the little man won, but it was a spectacle less fine in +artistry from the fact that it was less true to life. The tradition that +Jack goes up the beanstalk and kills his giant, and that Little Red +Ridinghood has the better of the wolf, and many other stories are +limited in their inspirational quality by the fact that they are not +true. They are stories that man has invented to console himself on +winter's evenings for the fact that he is small and the universe is +large. Carpentier showed us something far more thrilling. All of us who +watched him know now that man cannot beat down fate, no matter how much +his will may flame, but he can rock it back upon its heels when he puts +all his heart and his shoulders into a blow.</p> + +<p>That is what happened in the second round. Carpentier landed his +straight right upon Dempsey's jaw and the champion, who was edging in +toward him, shot back and then swayed forward. Dempsey's hands dropped +to his side. He was an open target. Carpentier swung a terrific right +hand uppercut and missed. Dempsey fell into a clinch and held on until +his head cleared. He kept close to Carpentier during the rest of the +fight and wore him down with body blows during the infighting. We know +of course that when the first prehistoric creature crawled out of the<a name="page_066" id="page_066"></a> +ooze up to the beaches (see "The Outline of History" by H. G. Wells, +some place in the first volume, just a couple of pages after that +picture of the big lizard) it was already settled that Carpentier was +going to miss that uppercut. And naturally it was inevitable that he +should have the worst of it at infighting. Fate gets us all in the +clinches, but Eugene O'Neill and all our young writers of tragedy make a +great mistake if they think that the poignancy of the fate of man lies +in the fact that he is weak, pitiful and helpless. The tragedy of life +is not that man loses but that he almost wins. Or, if you are intent on +pointing out that his downfall is inevitable, that at least he completes +the gesture of being on the eve of victory.</p> + +<p>For just eleven seconds on the afternoon of July 2 we felt that we were +at the threshold of a miracle. There was such flash and power in the +right hand thrust of Carpentier's that we believed Dempsey would go +down, and that fate would go with him and all the plans laid out in the +days of the oozy friends of Mr. Wells. No sooner were the men in the +ring together than it seemed just as certain that Dempsey would win as +that the sun would come up on the morning of July 3. By and by we were +not so sure about the sun. It might be down, we thought, and also out. +It was included in the scope of Carpentier's punch, we feared. No, we +did not exactly fear it. We respect the regularity of the universe by +which we live, but we do not love it. If the blow had been as +devastating as we first believed, we should have counted the world well +lost.</p> + +<p>Great circumstances produce great actors. History<a name="page_067" id="page_067"></a> is largely concerned +with arranging good entrances for people; and later exits not always +quite so good. Carpentier played his part perfectly down to the last +side. People who saw him just as he came before the crowd reported that +he was pitifully nervous, drawn, haggard. It was the traditional and +becoming nervousness of the actor just before a great performance. It +was gone the instant Carpentier came in sight of his ninety thousand. +His head was back and his eyes and his smile flamed as he crawled +through the ropes. And he gave some curious flick to his bathrobe as he +turned to meet the applause. Until that very moment we had been for +Dempsey, but suddenly we found ourself up on our feet making silly +noises. We shouted "Carpentier! Carpentier! Carpentier!" and forgot even +to be ashamed of our pronunciation. He held his hands up over his head +and turned until the whole arena, including the five-dollar seats, had +come within the scope of his smile.</p> + +<p>Dempsey came in a minute later and we could not cheer, although we liked +him. It would have been like cheering for Niagara Falls at the moment +somebody was about to go over in a barrel. Actually there is a +difference of sixteen pounds between the two men, which is large enough, +but it seemed that afternoon as if it might have been a hundred. And we +knew for the first time that a man may smile and smile and be an +underdog.</p> + +<p>We resented at once the law of gravity, the Malthusian theory and the +fact that a straight line is the shortest distance between two points. +Everything scientific, exact, and inevitable was distasteful. We<a name="page_068" id="page_068"></a> wanted +the man with the curves to win. It seemed impossible throughout the +first round. Carpentier was first out of his corner and landed the first +blow, a light but stinging left to the face. Then Dempsey closed in and +even the people who paid only thirty dollars for their seats could hear +the thump, thump of his short hooks as they beat upon the narrow stomach +of Carpentier. The challenger was only too evidently tired when the +round ended.</p> + +<p>Then came the second and, after a moment of fiddling about, he shot his +right hand to the jaw. Carpentier did it again, a second time, and this +was the blow perfected by a life time of training. The time was perfect, +the aim was perfect, every ounce of strength was in it. It was the blow +which had downed Bombardier Wells, and Joe Beckett. It rocked Dempsey to +his heels, but it broke Carpentier's hand. His best was not enough. +There was an earthquake in Philistia but then out came the signs +"Business as usual!" and Dempsey began to pound Carpentier in the +stomach.</p> + +<p>The challenger faded quickly in the third round, and in the fourth the +end came. We all suffered when he went down the first time, but he was +up again, and the second time was much worse. It was in this knockdown +that his head sagged suddenly, after he struck the floor, and fell back +upon the canvas. He was conscious and his legs moved a little, but they +would not obey him. A gorgeous human will had been beaten down to a +point where it would no longer function.</p> + +<p>If you choose, that can stand as the last moment in<a name="page_069" id="page_069"></a> a completed piece +of art. We are sentimental enough to wish to add the tag that after a +few minutes Carpentier came out to the center of the ring and shook +hands with Dempsey and at that moment he smiled again the same smile +which we had seen at the beginning of the fight when he stood with his +hands above his head. Nor is it altogether sentimental. We feel that one +of the elements of tragedy lies in the fact that Fate gets nothing but +the victories and the championships. Gesture and glamour remain with +Man. No infighting can take that away from him. Jack Dempsey won fairly +and squarely. He is a great fighter, perhaps the most efficient the +world has ever known, but everybody came away from the arena talking +about Carpentier. He wasn't every efficient. The experts say he fought +an ill considered fight and should not have forced it. In using such a +plan, they say, he might have lasted the whole twelve rounds. That was +not the idea. As somebody has said, "Better four rounds of——" but we +can't remember the rest of the quotation.</p> + +<p>Dempsey won and Carpentier got all the glory. Perhaps we will have to +enlarge our conception of tragedy, for that too is tragic.<a name="page_070" id="page_070"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="XII" id="XII"></a>XII<br /><br /> +JACK THE GIANT KILLER</h3> + +<p>All the giants and most of the dragons were happy and contented folk. +Neither fear nor shame was in them. They faced life squarely and liked +it. And so they left no literature.</p> + +<p>The business of writing was left to the dwarfs, who felt impelled to +distort real values in order to make their own pitiful existence +endurable. In their stories the little people earned ease of mind for +themselves by making up yarns in which they killed giants, dragons and +all the best people of the community who were too big and strong for +them. Naturally, the giants and dragons merely laughed at such times as +these highly drawn accounts of imaginary happenings were called to their +attention.</p> + +<p>But they laughed not only too soon but too long. Giants and dragons have +died and the stories remain. The world believes to-day that St. George +slew the dragon, and that Jack killed all those giants. The little man +has imposed himself upon the world. Strength and size have come to be +reproaches. The world has been won by the weak.</p> + +<p>Undoubtedly, it is too late to do anything about this now. But there is +a little dim and distant dragon blood in our veins. It boils when we +hear the fairy<a name="page_071" id="page_071"></a> stories and we remember the true version of Jack the +Giant Killer, as it has been handed down by word of mouth in our family +for a great many centuries. We can produce no tangible proofs, and we +are willing to admit that the tale may have grown a little distorted +here and there in the telling through the ages. Even so it sounds much +more plausible to us than the one which has crept into the story books.</p> + +<p>Jack was a Celt, a liar and a meager man. He had great green eyes and +much practice in being pathetic. He could sing tenor and often did. But +it was not in this manner that he lived. By trade he was a newspaper man +though he called himself a journalist. In his shop there was a printing +press and every afternoon he issued a newspaper which he called <i>Jack's +Journal</i>. Under this name there ran the caption, "If you see it in +<i>Jack's Journal</i> you may be sure that it actually occurred." Jack had no +talent for brevity and little taste for truth. All in all he was a +pretty poor newspaper man. We forgot to say that in addition to this he +was exceedingly lazy. But he was a good liar.</p> + +<p>This was the only thing which saved him. Day after day he would come to +the office without a single item of local interest, and upon such +occasions he made a practice of sitting down and making up something. +Generally, it was far more thrilling than any of the real news of the +community which clustered around one great highroad known as Main +Street.</p> + +<p>The town lay in a valley cupped between towering hills. On the hills, +and beyond, lived the giants and<a name="page_072" id="page_072"></a> the dragons, but there was little +interchange between these fine people and the dwarfs of the village. +Occasionally, a sliced drive from the giants' golf course would fall +into the fields of the little people, who would ignorantly set down the +great round object as a meteor from heaven. The giants were considerate +as well as kindly and they made the territory of the little people out +of bounds. Otherwise, an erratic golfer might easily have uprooted the +first national bank, the Second Baptist Church, which stood next door, +and <i>Jack's Journal</i> with one sweep of his niblick. If by any chance he +failed to get out in one, the total destruction of mankind would have +been imminent.</p> + +<p>Once upon a time, a charitable dowager dragon sought to bring about a +closer relationship between the peoples of the hills and the valley in +spite of their difference in size. Hearing of a poor neglected family in +the village, which was freezing to death because of want of coal, she +leaned down from her mountain and breathed gently against the roof of +the thatched cottage. Her intentions were excellent but the damage was +$152,694, little of which was covered by insurance. After that the +dragons and the giants decided to stop trying to do favors for the +little people.</p> + +<p>Being short of news one afternoon, Jack thought of the great gulf which +existed between his reading public and the big fellows on the hill and +decided that it would be safe to romance a little. Accordingly, he wrote +a highly circumstantial story of the manner in which he had gone to the +hills and killed<a name="page_073" id="page_073"></a> a large giant with nothing more than his good broad +sword. The story was not accepted as gospel by all the subscribers, but +it was well told, and it argued an undreamed of power in the arm of man. +People wanted to believe and accordingly they did. Encouraged, Jack +began to kill dragons and giants with greater frequency in his +newspaper. In fact, he called his last evening edition <i>The Five Star +Giant Final</i> and never failed to feature a killing in it under great red +block type.</p> + +<p>The news of the Jack's doings came finally to the hill people and they +were much amused, that is all but one giant called Fee Fi Fo Fum. The Fo +Fums (pronounced Fohum) were one of the oldest families in the hills. +Jack supposed that all the names he was using were fictitious, but by +some mischance or other he happened one afternoon to use Fee Fi Fo Fum +as the name of his current victim. The name was common enough and +undoubtedly the thing was an accident, but Mr. Fo Fum did not see it in +that light. To make it worse, Jack had gone on in his story with some +stuff about captive princesses just for the sake of sex appeal. Not only +was Mr. Fo Fum an ardent Methodist, but his wife was jealous. There was +a row in the Fo Fum home (see encyclopedia for Great Earthquake of 1007) +and Fee swore revenge upon Jack.</p> + +<p>"Make him print a retraction," said Mrs. Fo Fum.</p> + +<p>"Retraction, nothing," roared Fee, "I'm going to eat up the presses."</p> + +<p>Over the hills he went with giant strides and arrived at the office of +<i>Jack's Journal</i> just at press time.<a name="page_074" id="page_074"></a> Mr. Fo Fum was a little calmer by +now, but still revengeful. He spoke to Jack in a whisper which shook the +building, and told him that he purposed to step on him and bite his +press in two.</p> + +<p>"Wait until I have this last page made up," said Jack.</p> + +<p>"Killing more giants, I presume?" said Fee with heavy satire.</p> + +<p>"Bagged three this afternoon," said Jack. "Hero Slaughters Trio of +Titans."</p> + +<p>"My name is Fo Fum," said the giant. Jack did not recognize it because +of the trick pronunciation and the visitor had to explain.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry," said Jack, "but if you've come for extra copies of the +paper in which your name figures I can't give you any. The edition is +exhausted."</p> + +<p>Fo Fum spluttered and blew a bale of paper out of the window.</p> + +<p>"Cut that out," said Jack severely. "All complaints must be made in +writing. And while I'm about it you forgot to put your name down on one +of those slips at the desk in the reception room. Don't forget to fill +in that space about what business you want to discuss with the editor."</p> + +<p>Fo Fum started to roar, but Jack's high and pathetic tenor cut through +the great bass like a ship's siren in a storm.</p> + +<p>"If you don't quit shaking this building I'll call Julius the office boy +and have him throw you out."</p> + +<p>"Take the air," added Jack severely, disregarding the fact that Fo Fum +before entering the office had found it necessary to remove the roof. +But now the<a name="page_075" id="page_075"></a> giant was beginning to stoop a little. His face grew purple +and he was swaying unsteadily on his feet.</p> + +<p>"Hold on a minute," said Jack briskly, "don't go just yet. Stick around +a second."</p> + +<p>He turned to his secretary and dictated two letters of congratulation to +distant emperors and another to a cardinal. "Tell the Pope," he said in +conclusion, "that his conduct is admirable. Tell him I said so."</p> + +<p>"Now, Mr. Fo Fum," said Jack turning back to the giant, "what I want +from you is a picture. There is still plenty of light. I'll call up the +staff photographer. The north meadow will give us room. Of course, you +will have to be taken lying down because as far as the <i>Journal</i> goes +you're dead. And just one thing more. Could you by any chance let me +have one of your ears for our reception room?"</p> + +<p>Fo Fum had been growing more and more purple, but now he toppled over +with a crash, carrying part of the building with him. Almost two years +before he had been warned by a doctor of apoplexy and sudden anger. Jack +did not wait for the verdict of any medical examiner. He seized the +speaking tube and shouted down to the composing room, "Jim, take out +that old head. Make it read, 'Hero Finishes Four Ferocious Foemen.' And +say, Jim, I want you to be ready to replate for a special extra with an +eight column cut. I'll have the photographer here in a second. I killed +that last giant right here in the office. Yes, and say, Jim, you'd +better use that stock cut of me at the bottom of the page. A caption, +let me see, put it in twenty-four point cheltenham bold and make it read +'Jack—the Giant Killer.'"<a name="page_076" id="page_076"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="XIII" id="XIII"></a>XIII<br /><br /> +JUDGE KRINK</h3> + +<p>H. 3d, our three-year-old son, has created for himself out of thin air +somebody whom he can respect. The name of this character is Judge Krink, +but generally he is more casually referred to as "the Judge." He lives, +so we are informed, at some remote place called Fourace Hill. H. 3d says +Judge Krink is his best friend. He told us yesterday that he had written +a letter to Judge Krink and had received one in reply.</p> + +<p>"What did you say?" we asked.</p> + +<p>"I said I was writing him a letter."</p> + +<p>"What did he say?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing."</p> + +<p>This interchange of courtesies did not seem epoch-making even in the +life of a child, but we learned later just how extraordinarily important +and useful Judge Krink had become to H. 3d. Cross-examination revealed +the fact that Judge Krink has dirty hands which he never allows to be +washed. Under no compulsion does he go to bed. Apparently he sits all +day long in a garden, more democratically administered than any city +park, digging dirt and putting it in a pail.<a name="page_077" id="page_077"></a></p> + +<p>Candy Judge Krink eats very freely and without let or hindrance. In fact +there is nothing forbidden to H. 3d which Judge Krink does not do with +great gusto. Rules and prohibitions melt before the iron will and +determination of the Judge. We suppose that when the artificial +restrictions of a grown-up world bear too heavily upon H. 3d he finds +consolation in the thought that somewhere in the world Judge Krink is +doing all these things. We cannot get at Judge Krink and put him to bed +or take away his trumpet. The Judge makes monkeys of all of us who seek +to administer harsh laws in an unduly restricted world. The sound of his +shovel beating against his tin pail echoes revolution all over the +world.</p> + +<p>And vicariously the will of H. 3d triumphs with him, no matter how +complete may be any mere corporeal defeat which he himself suffers. The +more we hear about the Judge the more strongly do we feel drawn to him. +We would like to have one of our own. Some day we hope to win sufficient +favor with H. 3d to prevail upon him to introduce us to Judge Krink.</p> + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> + +<p>We are never to meet Judge Krink after all. He has passed back into the +nowhere from whence he came. It was only to-day that we learned the +news, although we had suspected that the Judge's popularity was waning. +Some visitor undertook to cross-question H. 3d about his relations with +Krink and it was plain to see that the child resented it, but we<a name="page_078" id="page_078"></a> were +not prepared for the direction which his revenge took. When we asked +about the Judge to-day there was no response at first and it was only +after a long pause that H. 3d answered, "I don't have Judge Krink any +more. He's got table manners."<a name="page_079" id="page_079"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="XIV" id="XIV"></a>XIV<br /><br /> +FRANKINCENSE AND MYRRH</h3> + +<p>Once there were three kings in the East and they were wise men. They +read the heavens and they saw a certain strange star by which they knew +that in a distant land the King of the world was to be born. The star +beckoned to them and they made preparations for a long journey.</p> + +<p>From their palaces they gathered rich gifts, gold and frankincense and +myrrh. Great sacks of precious stuffs were loaded upon the backs of the +camels which were to bear them on their journey. Everything was in +readiness, but one of the wise men seemed perplexed and would not come +at once to join his two companions who were eager and impatient to be on +their way in the direction indicated by the star.</p> + +<p>They were old, these two kings, and the other wise man was young. When +they asked him he could not tell why he waited. He knew that his +treasuries had been ransacked for rich gifts for the King of Kings. It +seemed that there was nothing more which he could give, and yet he was +not content.</p> + +<p>He made no answer to the old men who shouted to him that the time had +come. The camels were impatient and swayed and snarled. The shadows<a name="page_080" id="page_080"></a> +across the desert grew longer. And still the young king sat and thought +deeply.</p> + +<p>At length he smiled, and he ordered his servants to open the great +treasure sack upon the back of the first of his camels. Then he went +into a high chamber to which he had not been since he was a child. He +rummaged about and presently came out and approached the caravan. In his +hand he carried something which glinted in the sun.</p> + +<p>The kings thought that he bore some new gift more rare and precious than +any which they had been able to find in all their treasure rooms. They +bent down to see, and even the camel drivers peered from the backs of +the great beasts to find out what it was which gleamed in the sun. They +were curious about this last gift for which all the caravan had waited.</p> + +<p>And the young king took a toy from his hand and placed it upon the sand. +It was a dog of tin, painted white and speckled with black spots. Great +patches of paint had worn away and left the metal clear, and that was +why the toy shone in the sun as if it had been silver.</p> + +<p>The youngest of the wise men turned a key in the side of the little +black and white dog and then he stepped aside so that the kings and the +camel drivers could see. The dog leaped high in the air and turned a +somersault. He turned another and another and then fell over upon his +side and lay there with a set and painted grin upon his face.</p> + +<p>A child, the son of a camel driver, laughed and clapped his hands, but +the kings were stern. They rebuked the youngest of the wise men and he +paid<a name="page_081" id="page_081"></a> no attention but called to his chief servant to make the first of +all the camels kneel. Then he picked up the toy of tin and, opening the +treasure sack, placed his last gift with his own hands in the mouth of +the sack so that it rested safely upon the soft bags of incense.</p> + +<p>"What folly has seized you?" cried the eldest of the wise men. "Is this +a gift to bear to the King of Kings in the far country?"</p> + +<p>And the young man answered and said: "For the King of Kings there are +gifts of great richness, gold and frankincense and myrrh.</p> + +<p>"But this," he said, "is for the child in Bethlehem!"<a name="page_082" id="page_082"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="XV" id="XV"></a>XV<br /><br /> +THE EXCELSIOR MOVEMENT</h3> + +<p>The fun of most of the criticism of George Jean Nathan's lies in the +fact that he has been an irreconcilable in the theater. Rules and +theories have been disclaimed by him. Each play has been a problem to be +considered separately without relation to anything else except, of +course, the current dramatic activities in Vienna, Budapest and Moscow. +Most of his themes have been variations of the two important aspects of +all criticism, "I like" and "I don't like." Masking his thrusts under a +screen of indifference, he has generally afforded stirring comment by +the sudden revelation of the fact that his enthusiasms and his hates are +lively and personal. Being among the unclassified, the element of +surprise has entered largely into his expression of opinion.</p> + +<p>But of late it is evident that Mr. Nathan has grown a little lonely in +functioning as a guerilla in the field of dramatic reviewing. He is +envious of the cults and his scorn of Clayton Hamilton, George Pierce +Baker and William Archer seems to have been nothing more than what the +Freudians call a defensive mechanism. He too would ally himself with a +school—to be called the George Jean Nathan School of Criticism.<a name="page_083" id="page_083"></a></p> + +<p>His latest volume of collected essays, entitled "The Critic and the +Drama," is designed as a prospectus for pupils. It undertakes to codify +and describe in part the theater of to-day and to analyze and explain +much more fully George Jean Nathan. He insists on our knowing how the +trick is done. To us there is something disturbing in all this. We have +always been among those who did not care to go behind the scenes at the +playhouse for fear that we might be forced to learn how thunder is +contrived and the manner of making lightning. Still more we have feared +that somebody would impel us into a corner and point out the real David +Belasco. We much prefer our own romantic impression gathered wholly from +his curtain speeches at first nights.</p> + +<p>It is painful, then, to have the new book insist upon our meeting the +real Mr. Nathan. It was not our desire ever to know how his mind worked. +We much preferred to believe that the charming little pieces in the +<i>Smart Set</i> had no father and no mother except spontaneous combustion. +To find this antic author burdened with theories is almost as +disillusioning as to hear of Pegasus winning the 2.20 trot or one of the +muses contracting to give a culture course at the Woman's Study Club of +New Rochelle.</p> + +<p>And the worst of it is that the theories of Mr. Nathan, when exposed in +detail, seem to be much like those of other men. Even those who have +never had the privilege of attending a performance of Micklefluden's +"Arbeit" at Das Hochhaus in Prague early in the spring of 1905 have much +the same philosophy of the critic and the playhouse as Mr.<a name="page_084" id="page_084"></a> Nathan. Thus +we find him explaining that Shakespeare was "the greatest dramatist who +ever lived, because he alone of all dramatists most accurately sensed +the mongrel nature of his art." Mr. Nathan also insists sternly that +criticism must be personal, and in discussing the relation between the +printed and the acted drama he ingeniously makes a comparison with +music.</p> + +<p>"If drama is not meant for actors," he cries, "may we not also argue +that music is not meant for instruments?" We see no reason on earth why +Mr. Nathan should not argue in this manner, since so many hundreds in +the past have raised the same point. It is also interesting to learn +that Mr. Nathan thinks that the drama can never approximate nature. "It +holds the mirror not up to nature but to the spectator's individual +nature." He has also discovered that "great drama, like great men and +women, is always just a little sad."</p> + +<p>"The Critic and the Drama" is probably the most profound book which Mr. +Nathan has ever published and it is by far the dullest. His pages are +alive with echoes even at such times as they are not directly evoked and +called upon by name. One of the difficulties of profundity is +overcrowding. A man may remain pretty much to himself as long as he +chooses to keep his touch light and avoid research. Taking a suggestion +from Mr. Nathan, it may be said that all great masses of men are a +little serious. In the plains and the rolling country there is room for +an individual to skip and frolic, but all the peaks are pre-empted.<a name="page_085" id="page_085"></a></p> + +<p>It may not be generally known that the young man who carried the banner +with the strange device was lucky to die when he did. Had he eventually +reached the summit which he sought he would have discovered to his great +dismay that he merely constituted the 29th division in the annual outing +of the Excelsior Marching and Chowder Club.</p> + +<p>Criticism gives the lie to an ancient adage. In this field of endeavor +"The higher the fewer" may be recognized as an exquisite piece of +irony.<a name="page_086" id="page_086"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="XVI" id="XVI"></a>XVI<br /><br /> +THE DOG STAR</h3> + +<p><i>The Silent Call</i> presents the most beautiful of all male stars now +appearing in the films. In intelligence, also, his rank seems high. The +picture is built around Strongheart, a magnificent police dog. There +are, to be sure, minor two-legged persons in his support, but +practically all the heavy emotional scenes are reserved for Strongheart.</p> + +<p>The dog star has virtues which are all his own. Any man of such glorious +physique could hardly fail to betray self-consciousness. His virility +would obsess him to such an extent that there certainly would be moments +of posturing and swagger. Strongheart is above all this. He never trades +upon the fact of being a "he dog" or even emphasizes that he is +red-blooded and 100 per cent police.</p> + +<p>Unlike all the other handsome devils of the screen, he goes about his +business without smirking. His smile is broad, unaffected and filled +with teeth and tongue. And above all, Strongheart does not slick down +his hair with water or with wax.</p> + +<p>Fine mountain country has been selected for <i>The Silent Call</i> and we see +Strongheart galloping like a racing snow plow through white meadows +which foam at his progress. He fights villains with great<a name="page_087" id="page_087"></a> intensity and +sincerity, devastates great herds of cattle and brings the picture to a +fitting climax by leaping from a jutting cliff to drown a miscreant in a +whirlpool. We have seen no photography as beautiful nor any picture so +vivid and live in action.</p> + +<p>The story itself is good enough, but somewhat less than masterly. +Repetition dulls the edge of rescue. The heroine, for instance, never +should have been allowed to visit God's own country without a chaperon. +Her propensity for predicament seems unlimited. Let her be lost in a +virgin forest, if only for a moment, and out of the nowhere some villain +arises to buffet her with odious and violent attentions.</p> + +<p>She keeps Strongheart as busy as if he had been a traffic police dog. He +is forever engaged in indicating "Stop" and "Go" to the stream of +miscreants who bear down upon Miss Betty Houston. Villainicular traffic +in the Northwest woods seems to be in need of constant regulation.</p> + +<p>Strongheart bit some bad men and barked at others. Both measures were +effective, for this is an unusual dog in that his bark is just as bad as +his bite. He never questioned the character or the intentions of the +heroine. After all, he was only a dumb animal and his loyalty was tinged +with no suspicions.</p> + +<p>We must admit that the human frailty of doubt sometimes led us to carp a +little at the rectitude of Miss Houston. Her plights were so numerous +that we were mean enough to wonder whether all were accidental. There +was one particular villain, for instance, who attempted to abduct her no +less than four times. We could not dismiss the thought that<a name="page_088" id="page_088"></a> perhaps she +had given him some encouragement. Indeed we would not have been +surprised if at last there has come a caption quoting the heroine as +saying: "Get along with you, dog, and mind your own business." This, +however, did not prove to be within the scheme of the scenario writers.</p> + +<p>In all justice to Miss Houston, it must be said that, though she owed +Strongheart much, he was also in her debt. It took the love of a good +woman to drag him back from degradation. He was a nice dog until his +master left the ranch and went East to correct the proofs of a new book. +Strongheart could not understand that and neither could we. It seemed to +us as if the publisher might have sent the galleys on by mail.</p> + +<p>Deprived of the care of his owner, Strongheart began to revert to type. +He had been a wolf and he took to long hikes away from home. When he +grew hungry he killed a cow. The cattle men put a price upon his head +and Strongheart became an outcast.</p> + +<p>His return to civilization was effected by the first attack upon Miss +Houston. Even a wolf knows that it is only a coward who would strike a +woman. The police instinct proved stronger than the call of the wild and +the great beast bounded out of the thicket and seized Ash Brent by the +trousers. This was the first of many meetings between Ash and +Strongheart. The last and decisive encounter was in the whirlpool. The +dog swam to the bank alone and sat upon the bank to howl the piercing +death cry of the wolf.</p> + +<p>There is a suggestion of a happy ending in <i>The Silent Call</i> because +Strongheart's original master<a name="page_089" id="page_089"></a> falls in love with Miss Houston and +marries her. It was probably the only union for the heroine which the +dog would have sanctioned, and yet we cannot imagine that it left him +entirely happy. Once the much beset young woman was given over into the +care of a good man, Strongheart must have realized that his vocation was +gone. Ash Brent was dead and all the other villains had been captured by +the Sheriff. Placidity stared Strongheart in the face.</p> + +<p>To be sure, he bit people only because they were bad, but, like most +reformers, he had learned to love his work. It was to him more than a +duty. We doubt whether he remained long with the honeymooners. It is our +notion that on the first dark night he took to the wilds again. We can +imagine him stalking a contented cow in the moonlight. The poor beast +lowers her head for grass and Strongheart, seeking to convince himself +that the horns have been employed in an overt act, mutters: "You would, +would you!" Then comes the leap and the crashing of the great wolf jaws. +It is the invariable tragedy of the reformer that, though his work has +been accomplished, he cannot retire. First come the giants and then the +windmills.<a name="page_090" id="page_090"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="XVII" id="XVII"></a>XVII<br /><br /> +ALTRUISTIC POKER</h3> + +<p>Although Ella Wheeler Wilcox's autobiography is a human document +throughout, nothing in it has interested us quite so much as her +description of her husband's poker system in the chapter called "The +Compelling Lover."</p> + +<p>"In my early married life," writes Mrs. Wilcox, "he was much in demand +for the game of poker," but a little later she explains, "Even in his +love of cards and in his monotonous life of travel for the first seven +years after our marriage, when card games were his only recreation, he +introduced his idea of altruism. This, too, was a matter known only to +me. He played games of chance only with men he knew; whatever money he +made was kept in a separate purse, and when he came home he asked me to +help him distribute it among deserving people."</p> + +<p>Any new system is worth trying when your luck is bad, and yet it seems +to us that there are fundamental objections to the scheme suggested by +Mrs. Wilcox. At least, we don't think it would work well for us. If we +drew a club to four hearts we might bravely push all our chips forward +and say "Raise it," provided the risk was ours alone. We couldn't do +that if we were playing for Uncle Albert. Our<a name="page_091" id="page_091"></a> anxiety would betray us. +Even if Aunt Hattie had been mentally selected as the beneficiary of the +evening we should feel compelled to play the cards close to our chest. +She is a dear old lady and not a bit prudish, but we're sure she would +never approve of whooping the pot on a king and an ace and a seven spot.</p> + +<p>Then take the debatable question of two pairs. Personally we have always +believed in raising on them before the draw. Such a procedure is +dangerous, perhaps, but profitable in the long run. Under the Wilcox +system it might be difficult to take the larger viewpoint. It is more +than possible that we would grow timorous if Cousin Susie's hope of a +comfortable old age rested upon eights and deuces.</p> + +<p>Some years ago we used to encounter, every now and again, a kindly +middle-aged gentleman who was playing to send his brother to Harvard. It +weighed on him. Whenever he looked at his cards he had his brother's +chance of an education in mind. In fact, he grew so excessively cautious +that anybody could bluff him out of quite large pots merely by reaching +for a white chip. Some of the players, we fear, used to take advantage +of this fact. As we remember it, the young man finally went to the C. C. +N. Y.</p> + +<p>Of course, Ella Wheeler Wilcox makes no claim that the system is a +winning one. The implication is quite the other way. After all, she +writes of her husband, "He was much in demand for the game of poker."<a name="page_092" id="page_092"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="XVIII" id="XVIII"></a>XVIII<br /><br /> +THE WELL MADE REVIEW</h3> + +<p>One of the simplest ways in which a critic can put a play in its place +is to refer to it as "well made." The phrase has come to be a reproach. +It suggests a third act in which the friend of the family tells the +husband, "Take her out and buy her a good dinner," and the lover decides +that he will go back to Mesopotamia——"Alone!"</p> + +<p>George Bernard Shaw changed the style, and taught playgoers to refuse to +accept technic as something just as good as spiritual significance. We +now await the revolt against the well-made revue. Each of the Ziegfeld +Follies is perfect of its kind, but just as in the plays of Pinero, form +has triumphed over substance. The name Ziegfeld on the label means a +magnificent product perfect in every detail with complete satisfaction +guaranteed, but it is a standardized product. You know just what you are +going to get. Ziegfeld scenery, Ziegfeld costumes mean something +definite. Even "a Ziegfeld chorus girl" suggests an unvarying type. The +hood is as unmistakable as that of a Ford automobile.</p> + +<p>At times one is struck with a longing to find a single homely girl among +all the merry marchers. And there is at least a shadow of a wish to +encounter, likewise, something in a song or a set or a costume rough, +unfinished and ungainly. Alexander sighed<a name="page_093" id="page_093"></a> and so might Ziegfeld. His +supremacy in the field of musical revue is unquestioned. Even the shows +with which he has no connection follow his modes as best they can, +though sometimes at a great distance. He really owes it to himself and +to his public to put on, in the near future, a very bad revue so that in +the ensuing year that most precious element in +entertainment—surprise—may again come to the theater through him. The +first of all the Ziegfeld Follies must have furnished its audience with +a night of startled rapture. The rest have produced a pleasant evening.</p> + +<p>Burdened by years of success, Mr. Ziegfeld must be hampered by +innumerable rules about revue making. He has created tradition and +probably it rises up in front of him now and again to bark his shins. +The Follies is still an entertainment, but now it is also an +institution. Plan, premeditation and the note of service must all have +won their places in the making of each new show in the succession. The +critic will not depart in peace until he has seen somehow, somewhere an +altogether irresponsible revue. It will be produced not by Edward Royce +but by spontaneous combustion. Some of it will be terrible. Few of the +costumes will fit and many of them will be in bad taste. None of the +tunes will be hummed by the audience as it leaves the theater. But, +nevertheless and notwithstanding, this irresponsible revue of which I +speak is going to contain two good jokes.</p> + +<p>I had at least a glimmer of hope that <i>Shuffle Along</i> might be the first +blow of the revolution against the well-made revue. Early explorers in +the Sixty-Second<a name="page_094" id="page_094"></a> Street Music Hall came back glowing with discovery. +And yet after seeing the negro revue it seems to me that stout Cortes +and all his men were duped. In book and music and dancing <i>Shuffle +Along</i> follows Broadway tradition just as closely as it can. It is rough +with old things which have crumbled and not with new things which are +unfinished. And yet it is easy to understand the thrill which swept +through some of the pioneers who were the first to see <i>Shuffle Along</i>. +In it there is one quality possessed by no other show which has been +seen in New York this year. Most musical comedy performers seem to be +altruists who are putting themselves out to a great extent in order to +please you and the other paying customers. <i>Shuffle Along</i> is entirely +selfish. No matter how enthusiastic the audience, it cannot possibly get +as much fun out of the show as the performers. Not since the last trip +to New York of the Triangle Club have I seen the amateur spirit more +fully realized in the theater. Perhaps the performers get paid, but it +does not seem fitting. The more engaging theory is that each member of +the chorus of <i>Shuffle Along</i> who keeps his work up at top pitch until +the end of the season receives a large blue sweater with a white "S. A." +on the front and is then allowed to break training. The ten best +performers, in addition, are tapped on the shoulder. There is a rumor +that social distinction as well as merit enters into this selection, but +it has never, to my knowledge, been confirmed.</p> + +<p>Of course, nothing in the remarks above is to be construed as implying +that people in the Ziegfeld<a name="page_095" id="page_095"></a> choruses do not have a good time. Such a +statement would certainly be far from the facts. As somebody or other +has so aptly said, "It's great to be young and a Ziegfeld chorus girl." +The difference is that no Caucasian chorister, including the +Scandinavian, has the faculty of enjoying herself with the same +frankness and abandon as the African. Centuries of civilization and +weeks of training make it impossible. The Follies girl knows what she +likes, but she has been taught not to point. A certain reserve and +reticence is part of the Ziegfeld tradition. Even the most daring of Mr. +Ziegfeld's experiments in summer costuming are more esthetic than +erotic. Though the legs of the longest showgirl may be bare, one feels +that she is clothed in reverence. When the lights begin to dim, and the +soft music sounds to indicate that the current Ben Ali Haggin tableau is +about to be disclosed, I am always a little nervous. So solemn and +dignified is the entire atmosphere of the affair that I feel a little +like a Peeping Tom in the presence of Godiva and generally I cover my +eyes in order that they may be preserved for the final processional in +which one girl will be Coal, another Aviation and a third the Monroe +Doctrine.</p> + +<p>The parade is one of the traditions of the Follies. "When in doubt make +them march," is the way the rule reads in Mr. Ziegfeld's notebook. All +of which opens the way to the suggestion that Mr. Ziegfeld should try +the experiment some year of cutting about $100,000 out of his bill for +costumes and using the money to buy a joke. In that case the marching +chorus girls could pass a given point.<a name="page_096" id="page_096"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="XIX" id="XIX"></a>XIX<br /><br /> +AN ADJECTIVE A DAY</h3> + +<p>It was a child in Hans Christian Andersen's fairy tale who finally told +the truth by crying out, "He hasn't got anything on," as the king +marched through the streets clad only in the magic cloth woven and cut +by the swindling tailor. You may remember that everybody else kept +silent because the tailor had given out that the cloth was visible only +to such as were worthy of their position in life. The child knew nothing +of this and anyway he didn't have any position in life, so he piped up +and cried, "He hasn't got anything on." And though he was but a child +others took up the cry, and finally even the king was convinced and ran +to get his bathrobe. The tailor, as we remember the story, was executed.</p> + +<p>In course of time that child grew up, and married, and died leaving +heirs behind him. And they in turn were not so barren, so that to-day +vast numbers of his descendants are in the world. Nearly all of them are +critics of one sort or another, but mostly young critics. Like their +great ancestor they are frank and shrill, and either valiant or +foolhardy as you choose to look at it. Certainly they seldom hesitate to +rush in. No, there is no doubt at all that they are just a wee bit +hasty, these descendants of the child. It is rather useful that every +now and then one of them should point a finger of scorn at some falsely<a name="page_097" id="page_097"></a> +great figure in the arts and cry out his nakedness at top voice. But +sometimes they make mistakes. It has happened not infrequently that +worthy and respectable artists and authors in great coats, close-fitting +sack suits, and heavy woolen underwear, have been greeted by some member +of the clan with the traditional cry, "He hasn't got anything on."</p> + +<p>This may be embarrassing as well as unfair. Ever since the child scored +his sensational critical success so many years ago, all his sons have +been eager to do likewise. They have inherited extraordinary suspicion +regarding the raiment of all great men. Even when they are forced to +admit that some particular king is actually clad in substantial +achievement of one sort or another, they are still apt to carp about the +fit and cut of his clothing. Almost always they maintain that he +borrowed his shoes from some one else and that he cannot fill them.</p> + +<p>In regard to humbler citizens they are apt to carry charity to great +lengths. In addition to the incident recorded by Andersen they cherish +another legend about the child. According to the tradition, he wrote a +will just before he died in which he said, "Thank heaven I leave not a +single adjective to any of my descendants. I have spent them all."</p> + +<p>The clan is notoriously extravagant. They live for all the world like +Bedouins of the Sahara without thought of the possibility of a rainy +day. Their gaudiest years come early in life. Middle age and beyond is +apt to be tragic. Almost nothing in the experience of mankind is quite +so heartrending as the spectacle of one of these young critics, grown<a name="page_098" id="page_098"></a> +gray, coming face to face in his declining years with a masterpiece. At +such times he is apt to be seized with a tremor and stricken dumb. +Undoubtedly he is tormented with the memory of all the adjectives which +he flung away in his youth. They are gone beyond recall. He fumbles in +his purse and finds nothing except small change worn smooth. The best he +can do is to fling out a "highly creditable piece of work" and go on his +way.</p> + +<p>Still he has had fun for his adjectives for all that. There is a +compensating glow in the heart of the young critic when he remembers the +day an obscure author came to him asking bread, though rather expecting +a stone, and he with a flourish reached down into the breadbox and gave +the poor man layer cake.</p> + +<p>"After all," one of the young critics told me in justifying his mode of +life, "it may be just as tragic as you say to be caught late in life +with a masterpiece in front of you and not a single adequate adjective +left in your purse. Yes, I'll grant you that it's unfortunate. But +there's still another contingency which I mean to avoid. Wouldn't it be +a rotten sell to die with half your adjectives still unused? You know +you can't take them with you to heaven. Of what possible use would they +be up there? Even the bravest superlatives would seem pretty mean and +petty in that land. Think of being blessed with milk and honey for the +first time and trying to express your gratitude and wonder with, 'The +best I ever tasted.' No, sir. I'm going to get ready for the new eternal +words by using up all the old ones before I die."<a name="page_099" id="page_099"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="XX" id="XX"></a>XX<br /><br /> +THE UNKNOWN SOLDIER</h3> + +<p>They call him "the unknown hero." It is enough, it is better that we +should know him as "the unknown soldier." "Hero" suggests a superman and +implies somebody exalted above his fellows. This man was one of many. We +do not know what was in his heart when he died. It is entirely possible +that he was a fearful man. He may even have gone unwillingly into the +fight. That does not matter now. The important thing is that he was +alive and is dead.</p> + +<p>He was drawn from a far edge of the world by the war and in it he lost +even his identity. War may have been well enough in the days when it was +a game for heroes, but now it sweeps into the combat everything and +every man within a nation. The unknown soldier stands for us as symbol +of this blind and far-reaching fury of modern conflict. His death was in +vain unless it helps us to see that the whole world is our business. No +one is too great to be concerned with the affairs of mankind, and no one +too humble.</p> + +<p>The unknown soldier was a typical American and it is probable that once +upon a time he used to speak of faraway folk as "those foreigners." He +thought they were no kin of his, but he died in one of the<a name="page_100" id="page_100"></a> distant +lands. His blood and the blood of all the world mingled in a common +stream.</p> + +<p>The body of the unknown soldier has come home, but his spirit will +wander with his brothers. There will be no rest for his soul until the +great democracy of death has been translated into the unity of life.<a name="page_101" id="page_101"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="XXI" id="XXI"></a>XXI<br /><br /> +A TORTOISE SHELL HOME</h3> + +<p>Every once in so often somebody gets up in a pulpit or on a platform and +declares that home life in America is being destroyed. The agent of +devastation varies. According to the mood of the man with forebodings, +it is the motion pictures, the new dances, bridge, or the comic +supplements in the Sunday newspapers. It seems to us that these +defenders of the home are themselves offensively solicitous. If we +happened to be a home, we rather think that we would resent the +overeagerness of our champions. They act as if the thing they seek to +preserve were so weak and pitiful that it must go down before the gust +of any new enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>After all, the home is much older than these dragons which are said to +be capable of devouring it. Least of all are we disposed to worry over +deadly effects from the new dances. This fear has recently been put into +vivid form by Hartley Manners in a play called "The National Anthem," in +which Laurette Taylor, his wife, was starred. Jazz, according to Mr. +Manners, is our anthem. The hero and the heroine of his play dance +themselves to the brink of perdition. The end is tragic, for the husband +dies and the wife narrowly escapes from the effects of<a name="page_102" id="page_102"></a> poison which she +has taken by mistake while dazed from drink and dancing.</p> + +<p>This seems to us special and exceptional. A vice must be easy to be +universally dangerous. All the moralists assure us that descent by the +primrose path is facile. Skill in the new dances argues to us a certain +strength of character. We do not understand how any person of flabby +will can become proficient. In our own case we must confess that it is +not our strength and uprightness which has kept us from jazz, but such +traits as timidity and lack of application. As a boy we painstakingly +learned the two-step. For this we deserve no great credit. It was not +our wish, and only the vigorous application of parental influence +carried us through. After we broke away from the home ties we began to +back-slide. The dances changed from month to month and we lacked the +hardihood to keep up. Cravenly we quit and slumped into a job.</p> + +<p>None of our excuses can be made persuasive enough for exoneration. All +there is to be said for work as opposed to dancing is that it is so much +easier. Of course, our respect is infinite for the sturdy ones who have +gone through the flames of cleansing and perfecting fire and have earned +the right to step out upon the waxed floor. Few of them escape the marks +of their time of tribulation. Every close observer of American dancing +must have noted the set expression upon the face of all participants. +There is hardly one who might not serve as a model for General Grant +exclaiming: "I propose to fight it out on this line if it takes all +summer."<a name="page_103" id="page_103"></a></p> + +<p>No form of national activity begins to be so conscientious as dancing. +Up-to-date physicians, we understand, are beginning to prescribe it as +tonic and penance for patients growing slack in their attitude toward +life. At a cabaret recently a man pointed out a dancer in the middle of +the floor and said: "That woman in the bright red dress is fifty-six +years old." We were properly surprised, and he went on: "Her story is +interesting. Two years ago she went to a neurologist because of a +general physical and nervous breakdown. He said to her: 'Madam, the +trouble is that you are growing old, and, worse than that, you are ready +to admit it. You must fight against it. You must hold on to youth as if +it were a horizontal bar and chin yourself.'"</p> + +<p>We looked at the woman more closely and saw that she was obeying the +doctor's orders literally. Her fight was a gallant one. Dancing had +served to keep down her weight and improve her blood pressure, but there +was not the slightest suggestion that she was enjoying herself. She had +bought advice and she was intent upon using it. And as we looked over +the entire floor we could see no one who seemed to be dancing for the +fun of it. A few took a pardonable pride in their perfection of fancy +steps, but that emotion is not quite akin to joy. They were dancing for +exercise or prestige, or to fulfill social obligations.</p> + +<p>All this is admirable in its way, but we have not sufficient faith in +the persistence of human gallantry to believe that it can last forever. +The home will get every last one of the dancers yet because it is so +much easier to loaf in an easy-chair than to keep up the<a name="page_104" id="page_104"></a> continual +bickering against old age, indolence, and the selfishness of comfort.</p> + +<p>Motion pictures may be more dangerous because we are informed that they +are still in their infancy. But perhaps the home is also. In spite of +the length of time during which it has been going on, its possibilities +of development are enormous. Within the memory of living man a home was +generally supposed to be a place where people sat and stared at each +other. Sometimes they visited neighbors, but these trips were +traditionally restricted to occasions upon which the friends were ill +and too helpless to carry on a conversation. If any one doubts that talk +is a recent development in home life, let him consider the musical +instruments of a generation which is gone. Take the spinnet, for +instance, and note that even the most carefully modulated whisper would +have drowned out its feeble tinkle.</p> + +<p>To be sure, our ancestors had books and a few magazines, but they were +not of a sort to promote general conversation. Only the grown-ups were +capable of exchanging their views on Mr. Thackeray's latest novel. But +now, when the group returns from an evening at the motion-picture +theater where "The Kid" or "Shoulder Arms" is being shown, it is +impossible to keep anybody out of the discussion on account of his lack +of years. Little Ferdinand has just as much right to an opinion about +the prowess of Charlie Chaplin as grandpa, and, according to our +observation, it is a right almost certain to be exercised.</p> + +<p>Of course, before we began this discussion of the<a name="page_105" id="page_105"></a> decay of home life we +should have set about coming to some definition acceptable to both sides +of the controversy. Now, when it is too late to do anything about it, we +are struck by the fact that we are probably talking at cross purposes. +It is our contention that man is not less than the turtle. We think it +is entirely possible for him to carry his home life around with him. It +would not seem to us, for instance, that home life was impaired if the +family took in the movies now and again or even very frequently. Nor are +we willing to accept a bridge party down the street as something alien +and outside. In other words, a man's home (and, of course, we mean a +woman's home as well) ought not to be defined by the walls of his house +or even by the fences of the front yard. The anti-suffragists once had +the slogan "Woman's place is in the home," but what they really meant +was "in the house," since they used to insist that the business of +voting would take her out of it. It seems to us that the woman of to-day +should have a home with limits at least as spacious as those of the +whole world. And so naturally she ought to have her share in all the +concerns of life.<a name="page_106" id="page_106"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="XXII" id="XXII"></a>XXII<br /><br /> +I'D DIE FOR DEAR OLD RUTGERS</h3> + +<p>"He fought the last twenty rounds with a broken hand." "The final +quarter was played on sheer nerve, for an examination at the end of the +game showed that his backbone was shattered and both legs smashed." +"Although knocked senseless in the opening chukker, he finished the +match and no one realized his predicament until he confessed to his team +mates in the clubhouse."</p> + +<p>These are, of course, incidents common enough in the life of any of our +sporting heroes. To a true American sportsman a set of tennis is held in +about the same esteem as a popular playwright holds a woman's honor. +There is no point at which "I give up" can be sanctioned. Not only must +the amateur athlete sell his life dearly, but he must keep on selling it +until he is carried off the field. Accordingly, it is easy to understand +why Forest Hills seethed with indignation when Mlle. Suzanne Lenglen +walked (she could still walk, mind you) over to an official in the +middle of a tennis match and announced that she was ill and would not +continue. It was quite obvious to all that the Frenchwoman was still +alive and breathing and the thing was shocking heresy.<a name="page_107" id="page_107"></a></p> + +<p>The writer is not disposed to defend Suzanne's heresy to the full. He +believes that Mlle. Lenglen was ill, but he feels that she erred, not +because she resigned, but because she did it with so little grace. She +seemed to have no appreciation of the hardship which the sudden +termination of the match imposed upon Mrs. Molla Bjurstedt Mallory. +However, Molla did and came off the court swearing.</p> + +<p>It was an embarrassing moment, but possibly a moral can be dug from it +all the same. For the first time in the experience of many, a new sort +of athletic tradition was vividly presented. No one will deny that the +French knew the gesture of Thermopylæ as well as the next one, but they +have never thought to associate it with sports. The gorgeous and gallant +Carpentier has, upon occasions in his ring career, resigned. He showed +no lack of nerve on these occasions, but merely followed a line of +conduct which is foreign to us. Pitted at those particular times against +men who were too heavy for him and facing certain defeat, he admitted +their superiority somewhat before the inevitable end. Like a chess +master, he sensed the fact that victory was no longer in the balance, +and that nothing remained to be done except some mopping up. Such +perfunctory and merely academic action did not seem to him to come +properly within the realm of sport, particularly if he was to be the man +mopped up.</p> + +<p>American sport commentators who knew these facts in the record of +Carpentier were disposed to announce before his match with Dempsey that +he would most certainly seek to avoid a knockout by<a name="page_108" id="page_108"></a> stopping as soon as +he was hurt. His astounding courage surprised them. And yet it was +exactly the sort of courage they should have expected. He did not fight +on through gruelling punishment just for the sake of being a martyr. He +went through it because up to the very end he believed that his great +right hand punch might win for him, and even at the last Carpentier was +still swinging.</p> + +<p>In spite of the sentimental objections of the old-fashioned follower of +sports, the tradition which was bred out of Sparta by Anglo-Saxon has +begun to decay. Referees do step in and end unequal contests. Ring +followers themselves are known to cry, "Stop the fight" at times when +the match has become no longer a contest. "Mollycoddles!" shriek the +ghosts of the bareknuckle days who float over the ring, but we do not +heed their voices. Again, we have decreasing patience with the severely +injured football player who struggles against the restraining arms of +the coaches when they would take him out because of his disabilities. +To-day he is less a hero than a rather dramatically self-conscious young +man who puts a gesture above the success of his team.</p> + +<p>There is still ground for the modification of a sporting tradition which +has made those things which we call games become at moments ordeals +having no relation to sport. Losing is still considered such a serious +business that an elaborate ritual has been built up as to what +constitutes good losing. We not only demand that a man shall die, if +need be, for the Lawn Tennis Championship of Eastern Rhode Island, but +we go so far as to prescribe the exact manner in<a name="page_109" id="page_109"></a> which he shall die. A +set, silent and determined demeanor is generally favored.</p> + +<p>From Japan have come hints of something better in this direction. Every +American engaged in sport should be required to spend an afternoon in +watching Zenzo Shimidzu of the Japanese Davis Cup team. Shimidzu's +contribution to sport is the revelation that a man may try hard and yet +have lots of fun even when things go against him. He seems to reserve +his most winning smile for his losing shots. Once in his match against +Bill Johnston he was within a point of set and down from the sky a high +short lob was descending. Shimidzu was ready for what seemed a certain +kill. He was as eager as an avenging sparrow. Back came his racquet and +down it swung upon the ball, only to drive it a foot out of court. +Immediately, the little man burst into a silent gale of merriment. The +fact that he had a set within his grasp and had thrown it away seemed to +him almost the funniest thing which had ever happened to him.</p> + +<p>Of course, this is a manner which might be difficult for us Americans to +acquire. Unlike the Japanese we have only a limited sense of humor. Its +limits end for the most part with things which happen to other people. +We laugh at the pictures in which we see Happy Hooligan being kicked by +the mule, but we would not be able to laugh if we ourselves met the same +mule under similar circumstances. However, in an effort to popularize +the light and easy demeanor in sporting competition it is fair to point +out that it is not only a beautiful thing but that it is also +effective.<a name="page_110" id="page_110"></a></p> + +<p>Shimidzu almost beat Tilden by the very fact that he refused to do +anything but smile when things went against him. The tall American would +smash a ball to a far corner of the court for what seemed a certain +kill, but the little man would leap across the turf and send it back. +And as he stroked the ball he smiled. It was discouraging enough for +Tilden to be pitted against a Gibraltar, but it seemed still more +hopeless from the fact that even when he managed to split the rock it +broke only into the broadest of grins.</p> + +<p>Ten years of work by one of our most prominent editors for a war with +Japan were swept away by the Davis Cup matches. It is hard to understand +how there can be any race problem concerning a people with so excellent +a backhand and so genial a disposition. Indeed, many of the things which +our friends from California have told us about Japan did not seem to be +so. All of us have heard endlessly about the rapidity with which the +Japanese increase. There was no proof of it at Forest Hills. When the +doubles match started there were on one side of the net two Japanese. +When the match ended, almost four hours later, there was still just two +Japanese.<a name="page_111" id="page_111"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="XXIII" id="XXIII"></a>XXIII<br /><br /> +ARE EDITORS PEOPLE?</h3> + +<p>One of the characters in "A Prince There Was" is the editor of a +magazine and, curiously enough, he has been made the hero of the film. +Of course, there may be something to be said for editors. Indeed, we +have heard them trying to say it, and yet they remain among the forces +of darkness and of mystery. By every rule of logic the editor in any +story ought to be the villain.</p> + +<p>It is not the darkness so much as the mystery which disturbs us. Only +rarely have we been able to understand what an editor was talking about. +Sometimes we have suspected that neither of us did. There was, for +instance, the man who tapped upon his flat-topped desk and said with +great precision and deliberation, "When you are writing for <i>Blank's +Magazine</i>, you want to remember that <i>Blank's</i> is a magazine which is +read at five o'clock in the afternoon."</p> + +<p>He was our first editor. Disillusion had not yet set in. We still +believed in Santa Claus and sanctums. And so we took home with us the +advice about five o'clock and pondered. We remembered it perfectly, but +that was not much good. "<i>Blank's</i> is a magazine which is read at five +o'clock in the afternoon."<a name="page_112" id="page_112"></a> How were we to interpret this declaration of +a principle? It was beyond our powers to write with ladyfingers. +Possibly the editor meant that our style needed a little more lemon in +it. There could be no complaint, we felt sure, against the sugar. Ten +years of hard service on a New York morning newspaper had granulated us +pretty thoroughly.</p> + +<p>Having made up our mind that a slight increase in the acid content per +column might enable us to qualify with the editor as a man who could +write for five o'clock in the afternoon, we were suddenly confronted +with a new problem. <i>Blank's</i> was an international magazine. Did the +editor mean five o'clock by London or San Francisco time? Until we knew +the answer there was no good running our head against rejection slips. +There was no way to tell whether he would like an essay entitled "On +Pipe Smoking Before Breakfast in Surrey," or whether he would prefer a +little something on "Is the Garden of Eden Mentioned in the Bible +Actually California?" Naturally, if one were writing with San +Francisco's five o'clock in mind he would go on to make some comparison +between Los Angeles and the serpent.</p> + +<p>After extended deliberation, we decided that perhaps it would be best +not to try to write for <i>Blank's</i> at all. It might put a strain upon the +versatility of a young man too hard for him to bear. Suppose, for +instance, he worked faithfully and molded his style to meet all the +demands and requirements of five o'clock in the afternoon, and then +suppose just as he was in the middle of a long novel, daylight saving +should be introduced? His art would then be exactly<a name="page_113" id="page_113"></a> one hour off and he +would be obliged to turn back his hands along with those of the clock.</p> + +<p>Of course, even though you understand an editor you may not agree with +him. The makers of magazines incline a little to dogma. Give a man a +swivel chair and he will begin to lean back and tell you what the public +wants. Gazing through his window over the throng of Broadway, a faraway +look will come into his eyes and he will begin to speak very earnestly +about the farmer in Iowa. The farmer in Iowa is enormously convenient to +editors. He is as handy as a rejection slip. In refusing manuscripts +which he doesn't want to take, an editor almost invariably blames it on +some distant subscriber. "I like this very much myself," he will +explain. "It's great stuff. I wish I could use it. That part about the +bobbed hair is a scream. But none of it would mean anything to the +farmer in Iowa. Won't you show me something again that isn't quite so +sophisticated?"</p> + +<p>Riding through Iowa, we always make it a point to shake our fist at the +landscape. And if by any chance the train passes a farmer we try to hit +him with some handy missile. And why not? He kept us out of print. At +least they said he did.</p> + +<p>And yet though editors are invariably doleful about the capacity of the +farmer in Iowa and points west, it would be quite inaccurate to suggest +any fundamental pessimism. An editor is always optimistic, particularly +when a contributor asks for his check. But it really is a sincere and +deep grained hopefulness. No editor could live from day to day<a name="page_114" id="page_114"></a> without +the faculty or arguing himself into the belief that the next number of +his magazine is not going to be quite so bad as the last one.</p> + +<p>Unfortunately he is not content to be a solitary tippler in good cheer. +He feels that it is his duty to discover authors and inspirit them. +Indeed, the average editor cannot escape feeling that telling a writer +to do something is almost the same thing as performing it himself.</p> + +<p>The editorial mind, so called, is afflicted with the King Cole complex. +Types subject to this delusion are apt to believe that all they need do +to get a thing is to call for it. You may remember that King Cole called +for his bowl just as if there were no such thing as a Volstead +amendment. "What we want is humor," says an editor, and he expects the +unfortunate author to trot around the corner and come back with a quart +of quips.</p> + +<p>An editor would classify "What we want is humor" as a piece of +coöperation on his part. It seems to him a perfect division of labor. +After all, nothing remains for the author to do except to write.</p> + +<p>Sometimes the mogul of a magazine will be even more specific. We +confessed to an editor once that we were not very fertile in ideas, and +he said, "Never mind, I'll think up something for you."</p> + +<p>"Let me see," he continued, and crinkled his brow in that profound way +which editors have. Suddenly the wrinkles vanished and his face lighted +up. "That's it," he cried. "I want you to go and do us a series +something like Mr. Dooley." He leaned back and fairly beamed +satisfaction. He had done his<a name="page_115" id="page_115"></a> best to make a humorist out of us. If +failure followed it could only be because of shortsightedness and +stubbornness on our part. We had our assignment.<a name="page_116" id="page_116"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="XXIV" id="XXIV"></a>XXIV<br /><br /> +WE HAVE WITH US THIS EVENING——</h3> + +<p>We have always wondered just what it is which frightens the after dinner +speaker. He is protected by tradition, the Christian religion and the +game laws. And yet he trembles. Perhaps he knows that he is going to be +terrible, but it is common knowledge that after dinner speakers seldom +reform. The life gets them. It was thought, once upon a time, that the +practice was in some way connected with alcoholic stimulation, but this +has since been disproved. After dinner speaking is a separate vice. +Total abstainers from every other evil practice are not immune.</p> + +<p>The chief fault is that an irrationally inverted formula has come into +being. The after dinner speaker almost invariably begins with his +apology. He is generally becomingly frank when he first gets to his +feet. There is always a confident prophecy that the audience is not +going to be very much interested in what he has to say and the admission +that he is pretty sure to do the job badly. Unfortunately, no speaker +ever succeeds in deterring himself by these forebodings of disaster. He +never fails to go on and prove the truth of his own estimate of +inefficiency.</p> + +<p>Many men profess to find the greatest difficulty in getting to their +feet. Perhaps this is sincere, but the<a name="page_117" id="page_117"></a> task does not seem to be +one-sixteenth as hard as sitting down again. People whose vision is +perfect in every other respect suffer from a curious astigmatism which +prevents them from recognizing a stopping point when they come to it. We +suggest to some ingenious inventor that he devise a combination of time +clock and trip hammer by which a dull, blunt instrument shall be +liberated at the end of five minutes so that it may fall with great +force, killing the after dinner speaker and amusing the spectators. The +mechanical difficulties might be great, but the machine would be even +more useful if it could be attuned in some way so that the hammer should +fall, if necessary, before the expiration of the five minutes, the +instant the speaker said, "That reminds me of the story about the two +Irishmen."</p> + +<p>Funny stories are endurable, in moderation, if only the teller is +perfectly frank in introducing them for their own sake and not +pretending that they have any conceivable relationship to the endowment +fund of Wellesley College, or the present condition of the silk business +in America. To such length has hypocrisy gone, that there is now at +large and dining out, a gentleman who makes a practice of kicking the +leg of the table and then remarking, "Doesn't that sound like a +cannon?—Speaking of cannon, that reminds me——"</p> + +<p>Another young man of our own acquaintance has been using the same +anecdote for all sorts of occasions for the last four years. His story +concerns an American soldier who drove a four-mule team past the first +line trench in the darkness and started rumbling<a name="page_118" id="page_118"></a> along an old road that +led across no-man's-land. He had gone a few yards when a doughboy jumped +up out of a listening post and began to signal to him. "What's the +matter?" shouted the driver.</p> + +<p>"Shush! Shush!" hissed the outpost with great terror and intensity. +"You're driving right toward the German lines. For Heaven's sake go back +and don't speak above a whisper."</p> + +<p>"Whisper, Hell!" roared the driver. "I've got to turn four mules +around."</p> + +<p>It may be that there actually was such an outpost and such a driver, but +neither had any intention of acting as a perpetual symbol and yet we +know positively that this particular story has been introduced as an +argument for buying another Liberty Bond of the fourth issue; as a +justification for the vehemence of the American novelists of the younger +generation; and as a reason for the tendency to overstatement in the +dramatic and literary criticism of New York newspapers. We are also +under the impression that it was used in a debate concerning the +propriety of a motion picture censorship in New York state.</p> + +<p>Indeed the speaker whom we have in mind never failed to use the mule +story, no matter what the nature of the occasion, unless he substituted +the one about the man who wanted to go to Seville. He was a farmer, this +man, and he lived some few miles away from Seville in a little +ramshackle farm house. It had been his ambition of a lifetime to go to +Seville and upon one particular morning he came out of the house +carrying a suitcase.</p> + +<p>"Where are you going?" asked his wife.<a name="page_119" id="page_119"></a></p> + +<p>"To Seville," replied the farmer.</p> + +<p>His wife was a very pious woman and she added by way of correction, "You +mean, God willing."</p> + +<p>"No," objected the farmer, dogmatically, "I mean I'm going to Seville."</p> + +<p>Now Heaven was angered by this impiety and the dogmatic farmer was +immediately transformed into a frog. Before the very eyes of his wife he +lost his mortal form and hopped with a great splash into the big pond +behind the house. To that pond the good woman went every day for a year +and prayed that her husband should be restored to his natural form. On +the first morning of the second year the big frog began to grow bigger +and bigger and suddenly he was no longer a frog but a man. Out of the +pond he leaped and ran straightaway into the house. He came out carrying +a suitcase.</p> + +<p>"Where are you going?" exclaimed the startled wife.</p> + +<p>"To Seville," said the farmer.</p> + +<p>"You mean," his wife implored in abject terror, "God willing."</p> + +<p>"No," answered the farmer, "to Seville or back to the frog pond!"</p> + +<p>The young man of whom we are writing first heard the story from Major +General Robert Lee Bullard in a training school in Lyons. The doughty +warrior told it in reply to the question, "What is this offensive spirit +of which you've been telling us?" But with a sea change the story took +up many other and varied rôles. It served as the climax of an eloquent +speech in favor of the release of political prisoners; it began<a name="page_120" id="page_120"></a> an +address urging greater originality upon the dramatists of America and it +was conscripted at a luncheon to Hughie Jennings to explain the +speaker's interpretation of the fundamental reason for the victory of +the New York Giants over the Yankees in the world's series of last +season.</p> + +<p>Speaking of baseball, a great football coach once said that he could +develop a championship eleven any time at all out of good material and +seven simple plays well learned. Likewise, an after-dinner speaker can +manage tolerably well with a limited supply of stories, if only they are +elastic enough in interpretation and he covers a sufficiently wide range +of territory in his dining rambles.</p> + +<p>It is our experience that the most inveterate story tellers among public +speakers are ministers. Unfortunately, the average clergyman has a +tendency to select tales a little rowdy in an effort to set himself down +among his listeners as a fellow member in good standing of the +fraternity of Adam. Still more unfortunately the ministerial speaker +often attempts to modify and deodorize the anecdote a little and, on top +of that, gets it just a little wrong. No matter who the narrator may be, +nothing is quite so ghastly as the improper story when told to an +audience of more than ten or eleven listeners. Even more than a poetic +drama a purple story needs a group, small and select. Any one interested +in preserving impropriety might very well endow a chain of thimble +theaters with a maximum seating capacity of ten. Some such step is +needed or the off color yarn will disappear entirely from American life. +It was nurtured upon big mirrors<a name="page_121" id="page_121"></a> and brass rails and, these being +lacking, there is no proper atmosphere in which it may suitably be +reared. Most certainly the anecdote of doubtful character does not +belong to large banquets even of visiting Elks. Literature of this sort +is fragile. It represents what the Freudians call an escape, and the +most brazen of us is a little shamefaced about taking off his +inhibitions in front of a hundred people, mostly strangers.</p> + +<p>There must be something wrong with after-dinner speaking because it is +notoriously the lowest form of American oratory. It if were not for +Chauncey M. Depew whole generations in this country would have been born +and lived and died without once having any memory worth preserving after +the demitasse. The trouble, we think, is that dinner guests are much too +friendly. It is the custom that the man at the speakers' table may not +be heckled. He is privileged and privilege has made him dull. According +to our observation there is never anything of interest said with the +laying of cornerstones or the dedication of new high school buildings. +On the other hand, we have frequently been amused and excited by tilts +at political conventions and mass meetings.</p> + +<p>William Jennings Bryan is among the prize bores of the world when he +gets up to do his canned material about <i>The Prince of Peace</i>, but no +sensitive soul can fail to admire this same Commoner if he has ever had +the privilege of hearing him talk down political foes upon the floor of +a convention. All the labored tricks of oratory are forgotten then. Give +Mr. Bryan some one at whom he may with propriety<a name="page_122" id="page_122"></a> shake a finger and he +becomes direct, vivid and moving.</p> + +<p>Colonel Theodore Roosevelt was a speaker of somewhat the same type. He +did not talk well unless there was some living and present person for +him to speak against. Upon one occasion we heard him make a particularly +dreary discourse, and incidentally a political one, until he came to a +point where a group in the audience took exception to some statement and +attempted to howl him down. It was like the touch of a whip on the +flanks of a stake horse. Roosevelt returned to the statement and said it +over again, only this time he said it much more dogmatically and twice +as well. Before that speech was done he had climbed to the top of a +table and was putting all his back and shoulders into every word. Even +his platitudes seemed to be knockout blows. He was inspiring. He was +magnificent.</p> + +<p>The after-dinner speaker needs this same stimulus of emotion. He ought +to have something into which he can get his teeth. Every well conducted +banquet should include a special committee to heckle the guests of +honor. Even a dreary person might be aroused to fervor if his opening +sentence was met with a mocking roar of, "Is that so!" Loud cries of +"Make him sit down" would undoubtedly serve to make the speaker forget +his entire stock of anecdotes about Pat and Mike. There would be no calm +in which he could be reminded of anything except that certain +desperadoes were not willing to listen, and that, by the Old Harry, he +was going to give it to them so hot and heavy that they would have to.<a name="page_123" id="page_123"></a></p> + +<p>The scheme may sound a little cruel, but we ought to face the fact that +a time has come when we must choose between cutting off the heads of our +after-dinner speakers or slapping them in the face. We believe that they +deserve to have a chance to show us whether or not they have a right to +live.<a name="page_124" id="page_124"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="XXV" id="XXV"></a>XXV<br /><br /> +THE YOUNG PESSIMISTS</h3> + +<p>Bert Williams used to tell a story about a man on a lonely road at night +who suddenly saw a ghost come out of the forest and begin to follow him. +The man walked faster and the ghost increased his pace. Then the man +broke into a run with the ghost right on his heels. Mile after mile, +faster and faster, they went until at last the man dropped at the side +of the road exhausted. The ghost perched beside him on a large rock and +boomed, "That was quite a run we had." "Yes" gasped the man, "and as +soon as I get my breath we're going to have another one."</p> + +<p>Our young American pessimists see man at the moment he drops beside the +road, and without further investigation decide that it is all up with +him. To be sure, they may not be very far wrong in the ultimate fate of +man, but at least they anticipate his end. They do not stick with him +until the finish; and this second-wind flight, however useless, is +something so characteristic of life that it belongs in the record. I +have at least a sneaking suspicion that now and again there happens +along a runner so staunch and courageous that he keeps up the fight +until cock-crow and thus escapes all the apparitions which would +overthrow him. Of course, it is a long<a name="page_125" id="page_125"></a> shot and the young pessimists +are much too logical to wait for such miraculous chances. As a matter of +fact, they don't call themselves pessimists, but prefer to be known as +rationalists, realists, or some such name which carries with it the hint +of wisdom.</p> + +<p>And they are wise up to the very point of believing only the things they +have seen. However, I am not sure they are quite so wise when they go a +notch beyond this and assert roundly that everything which they have +seen is true. For my own part I don't believe that white rabbits are +actually born in high hats. The truth is quicker than the eye, but it is +hardly possible to make any person with fresh young sight believe that. +Question the validity of some character in a play or book by a young +rationalist and he will invariably reply, "Why she lived right in our +town," and he will upon request supply name, address, and telephone +number to confound the doubters.</p> + +<p>"Let the captious be sure they know their Emmas as well as I do before +they tell me how she would act," wrote Eugene O'Neill when somebody +objected that the heroine of "Diff'rent" was not true. This, of course, +shifts the scope of the inquiry to the question, "How well does O'Neill +know his Emmas?" Indeed, how well does any bitter-end rationalist know +anybody? Once upon a time we lived in a simple age in which when a man +said, "I'm going to kick you downstairs because I don't like you," and +then did it, there was not a shadow of doubt in the mind of the person +at the foot of the stairs that he had come<a name="page_126" id="page_126"></a> upon an enemy. All that is +changed now. During the war, for instance, George Sylvester Viereck +wrote a book to prove that every time Roosevelt said, "Viereck is an +undesirable citizen," or words to that effect, he was simply dissembling +an admiration so great that it was shot through and through with +ambivalent outbursts of hatred. Mr. Viereck may not have proved his +case, but he did, at least, put his relations into debatable ground by +shifting from Philip conscious to Philip subconscious.</p> + +<p>In the new world of the psychoanalysts there is confusion for the +rationalist even though he is dealing with something so inferentially +logical as a science. For here, with all its tangible symbols, is a +science which deals with things which cannot be seen or heard or +touched. And much of all the truth in the world lies in just such dim +dominions. The pessimist is very apt to be stopped at the border. For +years he has reproached the optimist with the charge that he lived by +dreams rather than realities. Now, wise men have come forward to say +that the key to all the most important things in life lies in dreams. Of +course, the poets have known that for years, but nobody paid any +attention to them because they only felt it and offered no papers to the +medical journals.</p> + +<p>It would be unfair to suggest that no dreamer is a pessimist. The most +prolific period of pessimism comes at twenty-one, or thereabouts, when +the first attempt is made to translate dreams into reality, an attempt +by a person not over-skillful in either language. Often it is made in +college where a new<a name="page_127" id="page_127"></a> freedom inspires a somewhat sudden and wholesale +attempt to put every vision to the test. Along about this time the young +man finds that the romanticists have lied to him about love and he +bounces all the way back to Strindberg. Maybe he gets drunk for the +first time and learns that every English author from Shakespeare to +Dickens has vastly overrated it for literary effect. He follows the +formulæ of Falstaff and instead of achieving a roaring joviality he goes +to sleep. Personally tobacco sent me into a deep pessimism when I first +took it up in a serious way. Huck's corncob pipe had always seemed to me +one of the most persuasive symbols of true enjoyment. It seemed to me +that life could hold nothing more ideal than to float down the +Mississippi blowing rings. After six months of experimenting I was ready +to believe that maybe the Mississippi wasn't so much either. Romance +seemed pretty doubtful stuff. Around this time, also, the young man +generally discovers, in compulsory chapel, that the average minister is +a dull preacher; and of course that knocks all the theories of the +immortality of the soul right on the head. He may even have come to +college with a thirst for knowledge and a faith in its exciting quality, +only to have these emotions ooze away during the second month of +introductory lectures on anthropology.</p> + +<p>Accordingly, it is not surprising to find F. Scott Fitzgerald's Amory +Blaine looking at the towers of Princeton and musing:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Here was a new generation, shouting the old cries, learning the old +creeds through a revery of long days and<a name="page_128" id="page_128"></a> nights; destined finally +to go out into that dirty gray turmoil to follow love and pride; a +new generation dedicated more than the last to the fear of poverty +and the worship of success; grown up to find all Gods dead, all +wars fought; all faiths in man shaken....</p></div> + +<p>Nobody wrote as well as that in Copeland's course at Harvard but there +was a pretty general agreement that life—or rather Life—was a sham and +a delusion. This was expressed in poems lamenting the fact that the +oceans and the mountains were going to go on and that the writer +wouldn't.</p> + +<p>Generally he didn't give the oceans or the mountains very long either. +All the short stories were about murder and madness. We cut our patterns +into very definite conclusions because we were pessimists and sure of +ourselves. It was the most logical of philosophies and disposed of all +loose ends. One of my pieces (to polish off a theme on the futility of +human wishes) was about a man who went stark raving, and Copeland sat in +his chair and groaned and moaned, which was his substitute for making +little marks in red ink. He had been reading Sheridan's "The Critic" to +the class with the scene in which the two faithless Spanish lovers and +the two nieces and the two uncles all try to kill each other at the same +time, and are thus thrown into the most terrific stalemate until the +author's ingenious contrivance of a beefeater who cries, "Drop your +weapons in the Queen's name." At any rate when I had finished the little +man ceased groaning and shook his head about my story of the man who +went mad. "Broun," he said, "try to solve your problems without recourse +to<a name="page_129" id="page_129"></a> death, madness—or any other beefeater in the Queen's name."</p> + +<p>And it seems to me that the young pessimists, generally speaking, have +allowed themselves to be bound in a formula as tight as that which ever +afflicted any Pollyanna. It isn't the somberness with which they imbue +life which arouses our protest, so much as the regularity. They paint +life not only as a fake fight in which only one result is possible, but +they make it again and again the selfsame fight.<a name="page_130" id="page_130"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="XXVI" id="XXVI"></a>XXVI<br /><br /> +GLASS SLIPPERS BY THE GROSS</h3> + +<p>When Cinderella sat in the ashes she should have consoled herself with +the thought of the motion-picture rights. No young woman of our time has +had her adventures so ceaselessly celebrated in film and drama. Of +course, she generally goes by some other name. It might be "Miss Lulu +Bett," for instance.</p> + +<p>For our part, we must confess that much as we like Zona Gale's modern +and middle-western version of the old tale, Cinderella is beginning to +lose favor with us. Her appeal in the first place rested on the fact +that she was abused and neglected, but by this time the ashes have +become the skimpiest sort of interlude. You just know that the fairy +godmother is waiting in the wings, and you can hear the great coach +honking around the corner. Undoubtedly, the order for the glass slippers +was placed months in advance. More than likely it called for a gross, +since there are ever so many Cinderella feet to fit these days—what +with Peg and Kiki and Sally and Irene and all the authentic members of +the family. Indeed, for a time, Cinderella was spreading herself around +so lavishly in dramatic fiction that one sex was not enough to contain +her, and we had a Cinderella<a name="page_131" id="page_131"></a> Man. All the usual perquisites were his +except the glass slipper.</p> + +<p>And now the time has come when the original poetic justice due to the +miss by the kitchen stove has quite worn off. Cinderella has been paid +in full, but how about her two ugly sisters? They have gone down the +ages without honor or rewards. Each time their aspirations are blighted. +Although eminently conscientious in fulfilling their social duties, it +has availed them nothing. We are determined not to welcome the story +again until it appears in a revised form. In the version which we favor, +Prince Charming will try the glass slipper upon Cinderella, and then +turn away without enthusiasm, remarking in cutting manner, "It is not a +fit. Your foot is much too small." One of the ugly sisters will be +sitting somewhat timidly in the background, and it will be to her the +Prince will turn, exclaiming rapturously: "A perfect number nine!"</p> + +<p>And they lived happily ever after.</p> + +<p>And while we are about it, a good many of the fairy stories can stand +revision. This Jack the Giant Killer has been permitted to go to +outrageous lengths. Between him and David, and a few others, the +impression has been spread broadcast that any large person is a perfect +setup for the first valiant little man who chooses to assail him with +sword or sling. We purpose organizing the Six Foot League to combat this +hostile propaganda. Elephants will be admitted, too, on account of the +unjust canard concerning their fear of mice. We and the elephants do not +intend to go on through life taking all sorts of nonsense<a name="page_132" id="page_132"></a> from +whippersnappers. The success of Jack and all the other little men of +legend has undoubtedly been due to the chivalry of the big and strong. +Dragons have died cheerfully rather than take a mean advantage and slay +pestiferous and belligerent runts by spitting out a little fire. Why +doesn't somebody celebrate the heroism of these miscalled monsters who +have gone down with full steam in their boilers because they were +unwilling even to guard themselves against foemen so palpably out of +their class?</p> + +<p>Take St. George, for instance. Do you imagine for a minute that his +victory was honestly and fairly earned? British pluck and all the rest +of it had nothing to do with it. The dragon could have finished him off +in a second, but the huge and kindly animal was afflicted with an acute +sense of humor. Between paroxysms it is known to have remarked: "I shall +certainly die laughing." It could not resist the sight of St. George +swaggering up to the attack in full armor like an infuriated Ford +charging the Woolworth Building. And the strangest part of it all is +that the dragon did die laughing just as it had predicted. St. George +flung his sword exactly between a "ha" and a "ha." The tiny bit of steel +lodged in the windpipe like a fishbone, and before medical assistance +could be summoned the dragon was dead. Of course it was clever, but we +should hardly call it cricket. All the triumphs of the little men are of +much the same sort. Honest, slam-bang, line play has never entered into +their scheme of things. Their reputation rests on fakes and forward +passes.</p> + +<p>Then there was the wolf and Little Red Riding-Hood.<a name="page_133" id="page_133"></a> The general +impression seems to be that the child's grandmother was a saintly old +lady and that the wolf was a beast. Let us dismiss this sentimental +conception and consider the facts squarely. Before meeting the wolf Red +Riding-Hood was the usual empty-headed flapper. She knew nothing of the +world. So flagrant was her innocence that it constituted a positive +menace to the community. The wolf changed all that. It gave Red +Riding-Hood a good scare and opened her eyes. After that encounter +nobody ever fooled Red Riding-Hood much. She positively abandoned her +practice of wandering around into cottages on the assumption that if +there was anybody in bed it must be her grandmother.</p> + +<p>The familiar story, somehow or other, has omitted to say that Miss Hood +eventually married the richest man in the village. Perhaps the old +narrator did not want to reveal the fact that on top of the what-not in +the palatial home there stood a silver frame, and upon the picture in +the frame was written: "Whatever measure of success I may have attained +I owe to you—Red Riding-Hood." And whose picture do you suppose it was? +Her grandmother? No. Her husband? Oh, no, indeed! It was the wolf.<a name="page_134" id="page_134"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="XXVII" id="XXVII"></a>XXVII<br /><br /> +A MODERN BEANSTALK</h3> + +<p>The legends of the world have been devised by timorous people. They +represent the desire of man, sloshing around in a world much too big for +him, to keep up his courage by whistling. He has pretended through these +tales that champions of his own kind would spring up to protect him. +"Let St. George do it," was a well known motto in the days of old.</p> + +<p>And we must insist again that such tales are false and pernicious +stimulants for the young. We intend to tell H. 3d that when Jack climbed +up the beanstalk the giant flicked him off with one finger. We want the +child to have some respect for size and to associate it with authority. +Otherwise we don't see how we can possibly prevail upon him to pay any +attention when we say, "Stop that." If he goes on with these fairy +stories he will merely measure us coolly for a slingshot.</p> + +<p>As a matter of fact, he doesn't pay any attention now. The time for +propaganda is already here. In our stories the ogre is going to receive +his due. Of course, we will add a moral. It would be wrong to lead the +boy to believe that brute force is the only effective power in the +world. Now and then a giant will be killed, but it will not be any easy +victory<a name="page_135" id="page_135"></a> for one presumptuous champion with a magic sword. Instead we +will explain that little Jack was not killed when the giant flipped him +off the beanstalk. The huge finger struck him only a glancing blow. +Nevertheless, it took Jack a good many days to get well again. It was a +fine lesson for him. During his convalescence (naturally we will have to +think up a shorter word) he did a lot of thinking. As soon as he was up +and around he scoured the country for other boys and at last he managed +to recruit a band of fifty. The first dark night Jack climbed the +beanstalk again, but he took along the fifty. By a prearranged plan they +fell upon the giant from all sides and managed to bear him down and kill +him. We certainly are not going to admit that a giant can be opened by +anything less than Jacks or better.</p> + +<p>Following the account of the death of the giant will come the moral. We +will explain that Jack is small and weak and that there are great and +monstrous powers in the world which are too strong for him. But he need +not wait for the superman or the magic lamp or anything like that. He +must make common cause with his kind. At this point we shall probably +digress for a while to go into a brief but adequate exposition of the +League of Nations, municipal ownership, profit sharing and the single +tax.</p> + +<p>Dropping the serious side of the discussion, we shall add that even a +great broth of a man can be spoiled by too many cooks. There is no power +in the world great enough to resist the will of man if only he moves +against it valiantly—and in numbers.</p> + +<p>Maybe H. 3d will not like our version of "Jack<a name="page_136" id="page_136"></a> and the Beanstalk" half +as well as the original. But we fear that when he grows up he is going +to find that there are still dragons and ogres and assorted monsters +roaming the world. We want him to be instrumental in killing them. We +don't want him to get clawed by going forward in foolishly overconfident +forays.</p> + +<p>There is the Tammany Tiger, for instance. Here and there a brave young +fellow rises up and says, "I'm going to kill the Tiger." Having read the +fairy stories, he thinks that the thing can be done by a little courage +mixed with magic. He paints REFORM on a banner, charges ahead before +anybody but the Tiger is ready and gets chewed up.</p> + +<p>This is sentimentally appealing, but it has been a singularly useless +system of ridding the city of the Tiger. I want H. 3d to know better and +to act not only more wisely but more successfully. Somewhere in the +story I plan to work in a paraphrase of something Emerson once said. +Jack's last words to his army just before climbing the beanstalk will +be, "If you strike a giant you must kill him."<a name="page_137" id="page_137"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="XXVIII" id="XXVIII"></a>XXVIII<br /><br /> +VOLSTEAD AND CONVERSATION</h3> + +<p>There is one argument in favor of Prohibition. It certainly helps to +make conversation on a railroad train. In the years before Volstead we +had ridden thousands of miles silently peering at the two strangers +across the smoking compartment and wondering how to get them talking. +The weather is overrated as a common starting point. It dies after a +sentence.</p> + +<p>Now we have a sure method. Begin with, "Well, this is certainly just the +day for a little shot of something," and you will find enough +conversation on hand to carry you across the continent. Indeed, nothing +but an ocean can stop it.</p> + +<p>Some day, of course, we are going to run into a stranger who will reply, +"Prohibition is now the national law of our land and I want you to know, +sir, that I intend to respect it."</p> + +<p>This has never happened yet. It makes us wonder how the drys get from +point to point. Either they stay at home, abstain from smoking or betray +their cause for the sake of friendliness. During two years of frequent +travel we have never yet met an advocate of Prohibition in a smoking +compartment.</p> + +<p>There was nothing but the most fiery opposition on the part of the man +who was going to Rochester.<a name="page_138" id="page_138"></a></p> + +<p>"It's making criminals out of us," he declared severely but with an ill +concealed joy at the thought of being at last, in ripe middle age, a +law-breaker. He carried us into Albany with tales of men who "never +touched a drop until they went and passed that there law." All these +belated roisterers he pictured as reeling in and out of his office under +the visible effects of illegal stimulation. He sought to create the +impression that he thought the condition terrible, but evidently it had +contributed a new and exciting factor to the wholesale fruit business. +Even the pre-Volstead drinkers he seemed to find not unworthy of his +concern. All of them used to take just one and stop. Now his life was +beset with roaring graybeards.</p> + +<p>Leaving Albany, the young man in the check suit took up the talk and +began a vivid account of recent experiences in Malone, N. Y., which he +identified as the strategic point in bootlegging activities. Opening on +a note of pathos, in which he wrung the hearts of his hearers by +recounting the amazingly low price of Scotch near the border, he +introduced a merrier mood by relating a conversation between two farmers +of the section which he had overheard.</p> + +<p>"What style of car have you got?" asked one of the men in the allegedly +veracious anecdote.</p> + +<p>"Twenty cases," replied the other laconically.</p> + +<p>According to the estimate of the narrator, a bootlegger passes through +Malone every eight minutes. He saw one take a turn into Main Street +careening along at fifty miles an hour and skid so dangerously that the +auto tipped, throwing a case of whiskey clear<a name="page_139" id="page_139"></a> across the road. "He went +out of town making seventy," added the story teller.</p> + +<p>Invariably the bootlegger was the hero of his tales. These modern Robin +Hoods he pictured as little brothers to all the world except the revenue +officers. Once two revenooers caught one of the gallant company and were +about to proceed with him to Syracuse, toting along four telltale +barrels of rye. But they had gone only a short distance on their journey +when they were overtaken by two men in a motor truck escorting a +prisoner, heavily manacled, and ten barrels of whiskey. After a short +confab they agreed to relieve the revenuers of their prisoner and +deliver both miscreants to the proper authorities in Syracuse. The +gullible agents of the law gave up their man.</p> + +<p>"And," continued the rum romancer, "they never did show up at Syracuse +at all. That second crowd they weren't revenue men at all. They were +bootleggers."</p> + +<p>Indeed, the young man declared that in Northern New York there is a well +organized Bootleggers' Union, which pays all fines out of a common fund. +So great was his seeming admiration for the rum runners that we +suspected him of being himself a member in good standing, but soon we +were moved to identify him as a participant in a trade still more +sinister. An acquaintance came past the green curtain and inquired +eagerly, "Did you sell her?"</p> + +<p>"Twice," said the young man enthusiastically and without regard to our +look of horror as we were<a name="page_140" id="page_140"></a> moved by circumstantial evidence to believe +him not only a white slaver but a dishonest one.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he continued. "I had my work cut out. You see he doesn't like +Nazimova."</p> + +<p>We were a little sorry to find that the young man was a motion picture +salesman. It made us fear that perhaps some of his bootlegging yarns had +been colored with the ready fiction of his business. Still it was +interesting to sit and learn that Niagara Falls got "Camille" for only +$300.</p> + +<p>The middle-aged man, the one with the large acquaintance among belated +drunkards, seemingly had little interest when the conversation turned +from bootlegging to the silver screen. We never did hear what business +"The Sheik" did in Albany because he was roaring at a skeptic about +cabbage.</p> + +<p>"I tell you," he shouted, "they got 110 tons off of every acre."</p> + +<p>Now we yield to no man in love of cabbage, but we should not find such +quantities appealing. It would compel corn beef commitments beyond the +point of comfort.</p> + +<p>The skeptic made some timid observation about onions. We did not catch +whether it was for or against.</p> + +<p>"Do you know," said the cabbage king, "that 75 per cent. of all the +onions in America are eaten by Jews?" He said it with rancor, whether +racial or vegetable we could not determine. To us it seemed an unusual +tribute to an ancient people. No other story of their executive capacity +had ever seemed to <a name="page_141" id="page_141"></a>us quite so convincing. We marveled at the +extraordinary coöperation which could hold a habit so precisely to an +average easy to compute and remember.</p> + +<p>We were also moved to admiration for the census takers. Statistics seem +to us man's supreme triumph in solving the mysteries of a chaotic world. +Creation, of course, was divine, but even that did not involve +bookkeeping.</p> + +<p>For a time we considered abandoning our project to write a novel about a +newspaper man and his son and make it, instead, a pastoral about a hero +simple and sincere whose life was dedicated to the task of determining +the ultimate destination of every onion raised in America. Then, since +art ought to be international, we planned to widen the scope of the tale +and include Bermuda. This would enable us to develop a tropical love +interest and get a sex appeal into the story. We are not sure that a +book would have a wide sale on onions alone.</p> + +<p>Of course other vegetables might enter the story. There could be a +villain forever tempting the hero to abandon his career and go after +parsnips. Titles simply flooded our mind. We thought of "Desperate +Steaks," "Out of the Frying Pan" and "A Bed of Onions," although we had +a vague impression that W. L. George had done something of this sort in +one of his earlier novels. "Breath Control" we dismissed as too +frivolous. "Smothered" was too sensational.</p> + +<p>Eventually we abandoned the whole project. We feared that we might not +be up to the atmosphere of an onion novel.</p> + +<p>Still, the advertising might be very effective if the<a name="page_142" id="page_142"></a> publisher could +be induced to bill the book under a great, flaring headline, "The Onion +Forever."</p> + +<p>But the train of thought was cut short when the demon vegetable +statistician got up and said, "If I could have just one wish in the +world, I'd choose a fruit farm between here and Lockport." Looking up to +see where "here" was, we observed the Rochester station. The trip had +seemed but a moment, and all because of Prohibition.</p> + +<p>By the way, did you know that 14.72 per cent, of all the potatoes raised +in America come from Maine?<a name="page_143" id="page_143"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="XXIX" id="XXIX"></a>XXIX<br /><br /> +LIFE, THE COPY CAT</h3> + +<p>Every evening when dusk comes in the Far West, little groups of men may +be observed leaving the various ranch houses and setting out on +horseback for the moving picture shows. They are cowboys and they are +intent on seeing Bill Hart in Western stuff. They want to be taken out +of the dull and dreary routine of the world in which they live.</p> + +<p>But somehow or other the films simply cannot get very far away from +life, no matter how hard or how fantastically they try. As we have +suggested, the cowboy who struts across the screen has no counterpart in +real life, but imitation is sure to bridge the gap. Young men from the +cattle country, after much gazing at Hart, will begin to be like him. +The styles which the cowboys are to wear next year will be dictated this +fall in Hollywood.</p> + +<p>It has generally been recognized that life has a trick of taking color +from literature. Once there were no flappers and then F. Scott +Fitzgerald wrote "This Side of Paradise" and created them in shoals. +Germany had a fearful time after the publication of Goethe's "Werther" +because striplings began to contract the habit of suicide through the +influence of the book and went about dying all over the place.<a name="page_144" id="page_144"></a> And all +Scandinavia echoed with slamming doors for years just because Ibsen sent +Nora out into the night. In fact the lock on that door has never worked +very well since. When "Uncle Tom's Cabin" was written things came to +such a pass that a bloodhound couldn't see a cake of ice without jumping +on it and beginning to bay.</p> + +<p>If authors and dramatists can do so much with their limited public, +think of the potential power of the maker of films, who has his tens of +thousands to every single serf of the writing man. The films can make us +a new people and we rather think they are doing it. Fifteen years ago +Americans were contemptuous of all Latin races because of their habit of +talking with gestures. It was considered the part of patriotic dignity +to stand with your hands in your pockets and to leave all expression, if +any, to the voice alone.</p> + +<p>Watch an excited American to-day and you will find his gestures as +sweeping as those of any Frenchman. As soon as he is jarred in the +slightest degree out of calm he immediately begins to follow +subconscious promptings and behave like his favorite motion picture +actor. Nor does the resemblance end necessarily with mere externals. +Hiram Johnson, the senator from California, is reported to be the most +inveterate movie fan in America, and it is said that he never takes +action on a public question without first asking himself, "What would +Mary Pickford do under similar circumstances?" In other words the +senator's position on the proposal to increase the import tax on +nitrates may be traced directly to the<a name="page_145" id="page_145"></a> fact that he spent the previous +evening watching "Little Lord Fauntleroy."</p> + +<p>Even the speaking actors, most contemptuous of all motion picture +critics, are slaves of the screen. At an audible drama in a theater the +other day we happened to see a young actor who had once given high +promise of achievement in what was then known as the legitimate. +Eventually he went into motion pictures, but now he was back for a short +engagement. We were shocked to observe that he tried to express every +line he uttered with his features and his hands regardless of the fact +that he had words to help him. He spoke the lines, but they seemed to +him merely incidental. We mean that when his part required him to say, +"It is exactly nineteen minutes after two," he tried to do it by +gestures and facial expression. This is a difficult feat, particularly +as most young players run a little fast or a little slow and are rather +in need of regulating. When the young man left the theater at the close +of the performance we sought him out and reproached him bitterly on the +ground of his bad acting.</p> + +<p>"Where do you get that stuff?" we asked.</p> + +<p>"In the movies," he admitted frankly enough.</p> + +<p>There was no dispute concerning facts. We merely could not agree on the +question of whether or not it was true that he had become a terrible +actor. Life came into the conversation. Something was said by somebody +(we can't remember which one of us originated it) about holding the +mirror up to nature. The actor maintained that everyday common folk +talked and acted exactly like characters in the movies<a name="page_146" id="page_146"></a> whenever they +were stirred by emotion. We made a bet and it was to be decided by what +we observed in an hour's walk. At the southwest corner of Thirty-seventh +street and Third avenue, we came upon two men in an altercation. One had +already laid a menacing hand upon the coat collar of the other. We +crowded close. The smaller man tried to shake himself loose from the +grip of his adversary. And he said, "Unhand me." He had met the movies +and he was theirs.</p> + +<p>The discrepancy in size between the two men was so great that my actor +friend stepped between them and asked, "What's all this row about?" The +big man answered: "He has spoken lightly of a woman's name."</p> + +<p>That was enough for us. We paid the bet and went away convinced of the +truth of the actor's boast that the movies have already bent life to +their will. At first it seemed to us deplorable, but the longer we +reflected on the matter the more compensations crept in.</p> + +<p>Somehow or other we remembered a tale of Kipling's called "The Finest +Story In The World," which dealt with a narrow-chested English clerk, +who, by some freak or other, remembered his past existences. There were +times when he could tell with extraordinary vividness his adventures on +a Roman galley and later on an expedition of the Norsemen to America. He +told all these things to a writer who was going to put them into a book, +but before much material had been supplied the clerk fell in love with a +girl in a tobacconist's and suddenly forgot all his<a name="page_147" id="page_147"></a> previous +existences. Kipling explained that the lords of life and death simply +had to step in and close the doors of the past as soon as the young man +fell in love because love-making was once so much more glorious than now +that we would all be single if only we remembered.</p> + +<p>But love-making is likely to have its renaissance from now on since the +movies have come into our lives. Douglas Fairbanks is in a sense the +rival of every young man in America. And likewise no young woman can +hope to touch the fancy of a male unless she is in some ways more +fetching than Mary Pickford. In other words, pace has been provided for +lovers. For ten cents we can watch courtship being conducted by experts. +The young man who has been to the movies will be unable to avail himself +of the traditional ineptitude under such circumstances. Once upon a time +the manly thing to do was mumble and make a botch of it. The movies have +changed all that. Courtship will come to have a technique. A young man +will no more think of trying to propose without knowing how than he +would attempt a violin concert without ever having practiced. The +phantom rivals of the screen will be all about him. He must win to +himself something of their fire and gesture. Love-making is not going to +be as easy as it once was. Those who have already wed before the +competition grew so acute should consider themselves fortunate. Consider +for instance the swain who loves a lady who has been brought up on the +picture plays of Bill Hart. That young man who hopes to supplant the +shadow idol will have to<a name="page_148" id="page_148"></a> be able to shoot Indians at all ranges from +four hundred yards up, and to ride one hundred thousand miles without +once forgetting to keep his face to the camera.<a name="page_149" id="page_149"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="XXX" id="XXX"></a>XXX<br /><br /> +THE ORTHODOX CHAMPION</h3> + +<p>The entire orthodox world owes a debt to Benny Leonard. In all the other +arts, philosophies, religions and what nots conservatism seems to be +crumbling before the attacks of the radicals. A stylist may generally be +identified to-day by his bloody nose. Even in Leonard's profession of +pugilism the correct method has often been discredited of late.</p> + +<p>It may be remembered that George Bernard Shaw announced before "the +battle of the century" that Carpentier ought to be a fifty to one +favorite in the betting. It was the technique of the Frenchman which +blinded Shaw to the truth. Every man in the world must be in some +respect a standpatter. The scope of heresy in Shaw stops short of the +prize ring. His radicalism is not sufficiently far reaching to crawl +through the ropes. When Carpentier knocked out Beckett with one +perfectly delivered punch he also jarred Shaw. He knocked him loose from +some of his cynical contempt for the conventions. Mr. Shaw might +continue to be in revolt against the well-made play, but he surrendered +his heart wholly to the properly executed punch.</p> + +<p>But Carpentier, the stylist, fell before Dempsey,<a name="page_150" id="page_150"></a> the mauler, in spite +of the support of the intellectuals. It seemed once again that all the +rules were wrong. Benny Leonard remains the white hope of the orthodox. +In lightweight circles, at any rate, old-fashioned proprieties are still +effective. No performer in any art has ever been more correct than +Leonard. He follows closely all the best traditions of the past. His +left hand jab could stand without revision in any textbook. The manner +in which he feints, ducks, sidesteps and hooks is unimpeachable. The +crouch contributed by some of the modernists is not in the repertoire of +Leonard. He stands up straight like a gentleman and a champion and is +always ready to hit with either hand.</p> + +<p>His fight with Rocky Kansas at Madison Square Garden was advertised as +being for the lightweight championship of the world. As a matter of fact +much more than that was at stake. Spiritually, Saint-Saens, Brander +Matthews, Henry Arthur Jones, Kenyon Cox, and Henry Cabot Lodge were in +Benny Leonard's corner. His defeat would, by implication, have given +support to dissonance, dadaism, creative evolution and bolshevism. Rocky +Kansas does nothing according to rule. His fighting style is as formless +as the prose of Gertrude Stein. One finds a delightfully impromptu +quality in Rocky's boxing. Most of the blows which he tries are +experimental. There is no particular target. Like the young poet who +shot an arrow into the air, Rocky Kansas tosses off a right hand swing +every once and so often and hopes that it will land on somebody's jaw.</p> + +<p>But with the opening gong Rocky Kansas tore into<a name="page_151" id="page_151"></a> Leonard. He was gauche +and inaccurate but terribly persistent. The champion jabbed him +repeatedly with a straight left which has always been considered the +proper thing to do under the circumstances. Somehow or other it did not +work. Leonard might as well have been trying to stand off a rhinoceros +with a feather duster. Kansas kept crowding him. In the first clinch +Benny's hair was rumpled and a moment later his nose began to bleed. The +incident was a shock to us. It gave us pause and inspired a sneaking +suspicion that perhaps there was something the matter with Tennyson +after all. Here were two young men in the ring and one was quite correct +in everything which he did and the other was all wrong. And the wrong +one was winning. All the enthusiastic Rocky Kansas partisans in the +gallery began to split infinitives to show their contempt for Benny +Leonard and all other stylists. Macaulay turned over twice in his grave +when Kansas began to lead with his right hand.</p> + +<p>But traditions are not to be despised. Form may be just as tough in +fiber as rebellion. Not all the steadfastness of the world belongs to +heretics. Even though his hair was mussed and his nose bleeding, Benny +continued faithful to the established order. At last his chance came. +The young child of nature who was challenging for the championship +dropped his guard and Leonard hooked a powerful and entirely orthodox +blow to the conventional point of the jaw. Down went Rocky Kansas. His +past life flashed before him during the nine seconds in which he +remained on the floor and he wished that he had been<a name="page_152" id="page_152"></a> more faithful as a +child in heeding the advice of his boxing teacher. After all, the old +masters did know something. There is still a kick in style, and +tradition carries a nasty wallop.<a name="page_153" id="page_153"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="XXXI" id="XXXI"></a>XXXI<br /><br /> +WITH A STEIN ON THE TABLE</h3> + +<p>Half a League would be better than one. Perhaps a quarter section would +be still better. The thing that sank Mr. Wilson's project, so far as +America was concerned, was the machinery. It was too heavy. Not so much +was needed. The only essential thing was a large round table and a +pleasant room held under at least one year's lease. Of course, it should +have been the right sort of table. If they had put knives and forks and, +better yet, glasses upon the one in Paris, instead of ink and paper, we +might already have a better world. Beer and light wines can settle +subjects which defy all the subtleties possible to ink.</p> + +<p>What the world needs, then, is not so much a league as an international +beer night to be held at regular intervals by representatives of the +nations. Good beer and enough of it would have settled the whole problem +of the covenants which were going to be open and did not turn out that +way. The little meetings would have a persuasive privacy, and yet they +would not be secret to any destructive extent. An alert reporter hanging +about the front door could not fail to hear the strains of "He's a jolly +good fellow" drifting down the stairs from the conference room<a name="page_154" id="page_154"></a> and, if +he were a journalist of any ability, he would have no difficulty in +surmising that the crowd was entertaining the delegate from Germany and +discussing indemnities.</p> + +<p>Some persons were not quite fair in criticizing the shortcomings of +President Wilson at Paris. It was easy to seize upon "open covenants" +and to demolish his sincerity by pointing out the secrecy with which +negotiations were carried on. It is sentimentally satisfying to every +liberal and radical in the world to declare that all the walls should +have come down and to continue this criticism by suggesting that the +Arms conference ought to have been taken out of the Pan American +Building and transferred to Tex Rickard's arena on Boyle's Thirty Acres, +or the Yale Bowl. The notion is fascinating because it permits the +possibility of cheering sections and enables one to picture Henry Cabot +Lodge leaping to his feet every now and again and asking all the men +with the R. R. banners (Reactionary Republicans) to join him in nine +long rahs for the freedom of the seas. The delegates, of course, would +be numbered so that the spectators could tell who was doing the kicking.</p> + +<p>It is appealing and we wish it could be done that way, but it is not +sound. We all know how bitter and destructive are legal battles which +have their first hearing in the newspapers. We also remember how +tenacious have been many of the struggles between capital and labor just +so long as the leaders of either side were talking to each other across +eight-column headlines instead of a table.</p> + +<p>One may counter by calling to mind various evil<a name="page_155" id="page_155"></a> things which have come +to the world from the tops of tables, but we must insist again upon +stressing the point that these were not tables which supported food and +drink. In Paris various points were lost to democracy because the +supporters of the right were outstayed by the champions of evil. In our +little club room it would be hard to put such pressure upon anybody. He +would need to do no more than shout for the waiter to fill up his mug +again and intrench himself for the evening. The most attractive thing +about our suggestion is that though it sounds like frivolous foolery it +actually is nothing of the sort. We are willing to accept modifications, +but the scheme would work. We have seen the pacifying effects of food +and drink upon warring factions too many times not to respect them.</p> + +<p>Once, at a dinner we heard Max Eastman talk across a table to Judge Gary +and both enjoyed it. We do not mean to suggest that the two men arose +with all their previous ideas of the conduct of the world changed. Judge +Gary did not offer, in spite of the eloquence of Eastman, to curtail the +working day in the mills of the United States Steel Company, nor did the +editor of <i>The Liberator</i> promise that thereafter he would be more +kindly disposed in writing about universal military training. But both +men were disposed to listen. Gary did not rush to the telephone to +summon a Federal attorney, and there was no disposition on the part of +Eastman to call the proletariat up into immediate arms. The most +friendly thing which anybody ever said about Mr. Wilson's League of +Nations came from those opponents of the<a name="page_156" id="page_156"></a> scheme who called it "nothing +but a debating society."</p> + +<p>Talk is lint for the wounds of the world. The guns cannot begin until +the statesmen have had their say. Any device which provides a pleasant +place and an audience for the orators in power is distinctly a move to +end war. The trouble with ultimatums is not only that they are ugly but +that they are short. If certain gentlemen from Serbia could have been +brought face to face with other gentlemen from Austria and empowered to +thrash it out the dispute between the two nations would by no means be +settled by now, but it would still be in a talking stage.</p> + +<p>Arguments must be fostered and preserved. It may be a little tiresome to +hear premiers saying, "Is that so?" to one another, but the satisfaction +derived from such exchanges is enough to keep the conflicting parties +from seeking a blood restoration of national egos. Food and drink are +not only the greatest instigators but the best preservers of free speech +in the world. Undoubtedly everybody in his time has heard some +toastmaster or other insult a prominent citizen a few feet away in a +manner which would be unsafe on the public highway and nothing has +happened. It has been passed off as something wholly suitable to the +occasion. As we listened to Max Eastman talk across the table to Judge +Gary we wondered whether anybody would have even thought for a moment of +sending Debs to jail if he had only had the good fortune to talk from +behind a barricade of knives and forks. These are the ultimate and most +effective weapons of all peaceful men. With one<a name="page_157" id="page_157"></a> of each in front of him +even a revolutionist may bare his heart and still be safe from the +bayonets of the military.</p> + +<p>Of course, the value of the weapons is not unknown to the conservatives +as well. Many a rampant reformer has gone to Washington and has seen his +ideals drown one by one before his eyes in the soup. For years England +managed to muddle along with Ireland by inviting nationalists out to +dinner. With the spread and development of civilization the price of +pottage has gone up. To-day we can afford to laugh at poor ignorant and +deluded Jacob who let his pottage go for a mess of birthright.</p> + +<p>In the light of these admissions it would be impossible to contend that +all the ills of the world could be solved by the device of international +beer nights. Even well fed men are not perfect. Alcohol is benign, but +it does not canonize. Schemes would go on even over demitasses. There +would be stratagems and surprises. And yet to our mind the stratagem, +even of a statesman, can never be so potent for harm in the world as the +stratagem of a general. Diplomacy is an evil game, chiefly because it +has been so exclusive. Our little club would be large enough to admit +all the delegates of the world. The only house rule would be "No checks +cashed."</p> + +<p>We have no idea that the heart of man is not more important than his +stomach. The world will not be made over more closely to the heart's +desire until we are of a better breed. But while we are waiting, +friendly talks about a table may count for something. We might manage to +swap a groaning world for a<a name="page_158" id="page_158"></a> groaning board. There is sanction for hope +in the words of the song. We know, don't we, that it's always fair +weather when good fellows get together with a stein on the table. All +America needs, then, to make the world safer for democracy is the stein +and the good fellows.<a name="page_159" id="page_159"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="XXXII" id="XXXII"></a>XXXII<br /><br /> +ART FOR ARGUMENT'S SAKE</h3> + +<p>All editors are divided into two parts. In one group are those who think +that anybody who can make a good bomb can undoubtedly fashion a great +sonnet. The members of the other class believe that if a man loves his +country he is necessarily well fitted to be a book reviewer.</p> + +<p>As a matter of fact, new terminology is coming into the business of +criticism. A few years ago the critic who was displeased with a book +called it "sensational" or "sentimental" or something like that. To-day +he would voice his disapproval by writing "Pro-German" or "Bolshevist." +Authors are no longer evaluated in terms of æsthetics, but rather from +the point of view of political economy. Indeed, to-day we have hardly +such a thing as good writers and bad writers. They have become instead +either "sound" or "dangerous." A sound author is one with whose views +you are in agreement.</p> + +<p>So tightly are the lines drawn that the criticism of the leading members +of each side can be accurately predicted in advance. Show me the cover +of a war novel, and let me observe that it is called "The Great Folly," +and I will guarantee to foreshadow with a high degree of accuracy just +what the critic of The New York <i>Times</i> will say about it and also the +critic<a name="page_160" id="page_160"></a> of <i>The Liberator</i>. Even if it happened to be called "The Glory +of Shrapnel," the guessing would be just as easy.</p> + +<p>The manner in which anybody says anything now whether in prose, verse, +music or painting is entirely secondary in the minds of all critical +publications. Reviewers look for motives. Symphonies are dismissed as +seditious, and lyrics are closely scanned to see whether or not their +rhythms are calculated to upset the established order without due +recourse to the ballot. Nor has this particular reviewer any intention +of suggesting that such activity is entirely vain and fanciful. He +remembers that only a month ago he began a thrilling adventure story +called "The Lost Peach Pit," only to discover, when he was half through, +that it was a tract in favor of a higher import duty on potash.</p> + +<p>A vivid novel about the war by John Dos Passos has been issued under the +title "Three Soldiers." One of the chief characters was a creative +musician who broke under the rigor of army discipline which was +repugnant to him. Nobody who wrote about the book undertook to discuss +whether or not the author had painted a persuasive picture of the +struggle in the soul of a credible man. Instead they argued as to just +what proportion of men in the American army were discontented, and the +final critical verdict is being withheld until statistics are available +as to how many of them were musicians. Those who disliked the book did +not speak of Mr. Dos Passos as either a realist or a romanticist. They +simply called him a traitor and let it go at that. The enthusiasts on +the<a name="page_161" id="page_161"></a> other side neglected to say anything about his style because they +needed the space to suggest that he ought to be the next candidate for +president from the Socialist party.</p> + +<p>Speaking as a native-born American (Brooklyn—1888) who once voted for a +Socialist for membership in the Board of Aldermen, the writer must admit +that he has found the radical solidarity of critical approval or dissent +more trying than that of the conservatives. Again and again he has +found, in <i>The Liberator</i> and elsewhere, able young men, who ought to +know better, praising novels for no reason on earth except that they +were radical. If the novelist said that life in a middlewestern town was +dreary and evil he was bound to be praised by the socialist reviewers. +On the other hand, any author who found in this same middle west a +community or an individual not hopelessly stunted in mind and in morals, +was immediately scourged as a viciously sentimental observer who had +probably been one of the group which fixed upon the nomination of +President Harding late at night behind the locked doors of a little room +in a big hotel.</p> + +<p>The enthusiasm of the radical critics extends not only to rebels against +existing governmental principles and moral conventions, but to all those +who dare to write in any new manner. There seems to be a certain +confusion whereby free verse is held to be a movement in the direction +of free speech.</p> + +<p>Novels which begin in the middle and work first forward and then back, +win favor as blows against the bourgeois idea that a straight line is +the shortest<a name="page_162" id="page_162"></a> distance between two points. Of course, the radical author +can do almost anything the conservative does and still retain the +admiration of his fellows by dint of a very small amount of tact. +Rhapsodies on love will be damned as sentimental if the author has been +injudicious enough to allow his characters to marry, but he can retain +exactly the same language if he is careful to add a footnote that +nothing is contemplated except the freest of free unions. A few works +are praised by both sides because each finds a different interpretation +for the same set of facts. Thus, the authors of "Dulcy" were surprised +to find themselves warmly greeted in one of the Socialist dailies as +young men who had struck a blow for government ownership of all +essential industries merely because they had introduced a big business +man into their play and, for the purposes of comic relief, had made him +a fool.</p> + +<p>Class consciousness has become so acute that it extends even beyond the +realms of literature and drama into the field of sports. The recent +"battle of the century" eventually simmered down into the minds of many +as a struggle between the forces of reaction and revolution. It was +known before the fight that Carpentier would wear a flowered silk +bathrobe into the ring, while Dempsey would be clad in an old red +sweater. How could symbolism be more perfect? Anybody who believed that +Carpentier's right would be good enough to win, was immediately set down +as a profiteer in munitions who would undoubtedly welcome the outbreak +of another war. Likewise it was unsafe to express the opinion that<a name="page_163" id="page_163"></a> +Dempsey's infighting might be too much for the Frenchman, lest one be +identified with the little willful group of pacifists who impeded the +progress of the war. Eventually, the startling revelation was made by +the reporter of a morning newspaper that he had seen Carpentier smelling +a rose. After that, any belief in the invader's prowess laid whoever +expressed it open to the charge, not only of aristocracy, but of +degeneracy as well. After Dempsey's blows wore down his opponent and +defeated him, it was generally felt by his supporters that the +eight-hour day was safe, and that the open shop would never be generally +accepted in America.</p> + +<p>The only encouraging feature in the increasingly sharp feeling of class +consciousness among critics is a growing frankness. Reviewers are +willing to admit now that they think so and so's novel is an indifferent +piece of work because he speaks ill of conscription and they believe in +it. A year or so ago they would have pretended that they did not like it +because the author split some infinitives.</p> + +<p>One of the frankest writing men we ever met is the editor of a Socialist +newspaper. "Whenever there's a big strike," he explained to me, "I +always tell the man who goes out on the story, 'Never see a striker hit +a scab. Always see the scab hit the striker.'"</p> + +<p>"You see," he went on, "there are seven or eight other newspapers in +town who will see it just the other way and I've got to keep the balance +straight."</p> + +<p>There used to be a practice somewhat similar to this among baseball +umpires. Whenever the man<a name="page_164" id="page_164"></a> behind the plate felt that he had called a +bad ball a strike, he would bide his time until the next good one came +over and that he would call a ball. The practice was known as "evening +up" and it is no longer considered efficient workmanship. That is, not +among umpires. The radical editor was not in the least abashed when I +quoted to him the remark of a man who said that he always read his paper +with great interest because he invariably found the editorial opinions +in the news and the news on the editorial page. "That's just what I'm +trying to do," he exclaimed delightedly. "I'm not trying to give the +people the news. I'm trying to make new Socialists every day."</p> + +<p>It is to be feared that even those writers who have the opportunity to +be more deliberate than the journalists have been struck with the idea +that by words they can shape the world a little closer to the heart's +desire. Throughout the war we were told so constantly that battles could +be decided and ships built and wars decided by the force of propaganda, +that every man with a portable typewriter in his suitcase began to think +of it as a baton. There was a day when a novelist was satisfied if he +could capture a little slice of life and get it between the covers of +his book. Now everybody writes to shake the world. The smell of +propaganda is unmistakable.</p> + +<p>With literature in its present state of mind critics cannot be expected +to watch and wait for the great American novel or the great American +play. Instead they look for the book which made the tariff possible, or +the play which ended the steel strike.<a name="page_165" id="page_165"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="XXXIII" id="XXXIII"></a>XXXIII<br /><br /> +NO 'RAHS FOR RAY</h3> + +<p>Richard Le Gallienne was lamenting, once, that he probably would never +be able to write a best-seller like Hall Caine or Marie Corelli. "It's +no use," he said. "You can't fake it. Bad writing is a gift."</p> + +<p>So is college spirit. That is why almost all the plays and motion +pictures about football games and hazing and such like are so fearfully +unconvincing. Nobody who is hired for money can possibly make the same +joyful ass of himself as a collegian under strictly amateur momentum. +Expense has not been spared, nor pains, in the building of "Two Minutes +To Go," with the delightful Charlie Ray, but it just isn't real. Films +may be faithful enough in depicting such trifling emotions as hate and +passion and mother-love, but the feeling which animates the freshman +when Yale has the ball on the three-yard line is something a little too +searing and sacred for the camera's eye.</p> + +<p>One of the difficulties of catching any of this spirit for play or for +picture is that there is no logical reason for its existence. Logic +won't touch it. The director and his entire staff would all have to be +inspired to be able to make a college picture actually glow. There is +not that much inspiration in all Hollywood.<a name="page_166" id="page_166"></a></p> + +<p>The partisanship of the big football games has always been to me one of +the most mystifying features in American life. It is all the more +mystifying from the fact that it grips me acutely twice a year when +Harvard plays Princeton, and again when we play Yale. I find no +difficulty in being neutral about Bates of Middlebury. It did not even +worry me much when Georgia scored a touchdown. The encounters with Yale +and Princeton are not games but ordeals. Of course, there is no sense to +it. A victory for Harvard or a defeat makes no striking difference in +the course of my life. My job goes on just the same and the servants +will stay, and there will be a furnace and food even if the Crimson is +defeated by many touchdowns.</p> + +<p>I never played on a Harvard eleven, nor even had a relative on any of +the teams. There was a second cousin on the scrub, but he was before my +time, and it cannot be that all my interest has been drummed up by his +career. I don't know the coaches nor the players. Yale and Princeton +have not wronged me. In fact, I once sold an article to a Yale man who +is now conducting a magazine in New York. Naturally it was on a neutral +subject, which happened to be the question of whether mothers were any +more skillful than fathers in handling children. Orange and black are +beautiful colors and "Old Nassau" is a stirring tune. Woodrow Wilson +meant well at Paris, and Big Bill Edwards was as pleasant-spoken a +collector of income taxes as I ever expect to meet.</p> + +<p>Yet all this is forgotten when the teams run out<a name="page_167" id="page_167"></a> on to the gridiron. I +find myself yelling "Block that kick! Block that kick! Block that kick!" +or "Touchdown! Touchdown!" as if my heart would break. It is pretty +lucky that the old devil who bought Faust's soul has never come along +and tempted me in the middle of a football game. He could drive a good +bargain cheap. There have been times when for nothing more than a five +yard gain through the center of the line he could have had not only my +soul, but a third mortgage on the house. If he played me right he might +even get that recipe for making near beer closer.</p> + +<p>The strangest part of all this is that the emotions described are not +exceptional. A number of sane persons have assured me that they feel +just the same about the big games. One of my best friends in college was +always known to us as "the brother of the man who dropped the punt." The +man who actually committed that dire deed was not even mentioned. I +remember, also, a Harvard captain whose team lost and who horrified the +entire university by remarking at the team dinner a few weeks later that +he was always going to look back on the season with pleasure because he +thought that he and the rest of the players had had good fun, even +though they had lost to Yale. Naturally he was never allowed to return +to Cambridge after his graduation. His unfortunate remark came a few +years before the passage of the sedition law, but there was a militant +public opinion in the college fully capable of taking care of such +cases.</p> + +<p>Feeling, then, as I do, that there is no such poignant ordeal possible +to man as sitting through a tight Harvard<a name="page_168" id="page_168"></a>-Yale game, any screen story +of football seems not only piffling but sacrilegious. In the Charlie Ray +picture, the two contending teams were Stanley and Baker. There were +views of the rival cheering sections and closer ones of Charlie Ray +running the length of the gridiron for a touchdown. This feat was made +somewhat easy for him by the fact that all the extra people engaged for +the picture seemed to have been instructed to slap him lightly above the +knee with the little finger of the right hand and then fall upon their +faces so that he might step over them.</p> + +<p>It was not this palpable artificiality which was the most potent factor +in bringing me into an extreme state of calm. A long Harvard run made +possible by the entire Yale team's being struck by lightning would seem +to me thoroughly satisfactory. The trouble with "Two Minutes To Go" was +that I never forgot for a moment that Charlie Ray was a motion picture +star instead of a halfback. Of course, you might object that I should +properly have the same feeling when seeing Ray in pictures where he is +engaged in altercations with holdup men and other scoundrels. That is +different. In such situations the stratagems of the films are amply +convincing, but in football nobody can possibly play the villain so +effectively as a Yaleman. We have often wondered how one university +could possibly corner the entire supply of treacherous and beetle-browed +humanity.</p> + +<p>The foemen lined up against Charlie Ray didn't begin to be fierce +enough. Nor did the rival groups of rooters serve any better to convince +me of their authenticity. It was quite evident that they were<a name="page_169" id="page_169"></a> swayed by +no emotion other than that of a willingness to obey the orders of the +director. Football is too warm and passionate a thing to be reduced to +the flat dimensions of the screen. Battle, murder, sudden death and many +other things are done amply well in films. Football is different. Though +it injure the heart, increase the blood pressure and shorten life, only +the reality will do.<a name="page_170" id="page_170"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="XXXIV" id="XXXIV"></a>XXXIV<br /><br /> +"ATABOY!"</h3> + +<p>Thomas Burke has a cultivated taste for low life and he records his +delight in Limehouse so vividly that it is impossible to doubt his +sincerity. In his volume of essays called "Out and About London," he +spreads his enthusiasm over the entire "seven hundred square miles of +London, in which adventure is shyly lurking for those who will seek her +out."</p> + +<p>In the spreading there is at least ground for suspicion that here and +there authentic enthusiasm has worn a bit thin. It is no more than a +suspicion, for Burke is a skillful writer who can set an emotion to +galloping without showing the whip. Only when he comes to describe a +baseball game is the American reader prepared to assert roundly that +Burke is merely parading an enthusiasm which he does not feel. We could +not escape the impression that the English author felt that a baseball +game was the most primitive thing America had to offer and that he was +in duty bound to enthuse over this exhibition of human nature in the +raw.</p> + +<p>We have seen many Englishmen at baseball games. We have even attempted +to explain to a few visitors the fine points of the game, why John +McGraw spoke in so menacing a manner to the umpire or why Hughie<a name="page_171" id="page_171"></a> +Jennings ate grass and shouted "Ee-Yah!" at the batter. Invariably the +Englishman has said that it was all very strange and all very +delightful. Never have we believed him. The very essence of nationality +lies in the fact that the other fellow's pastime invariably seems a +ridiculous affair. One may accept the cookery, the politics and the +religion of a foreign nation years before he will take an alien game to +his heart. We doubt whether it would be possible to teach an American to +say "Well played" in less than a couple of generations.</p> + +<p>Burke has no fears. Not only does he describe the game in a general way, +but he plunges boldly ahead in an effort to record American slang. The +title of the essay is well enough. Burke calls it "Atta-boy!" This is, +of course, authentic American slang. It meets all the requirements, +being in common use, having a definite meaning and affording a short cut +to the expression of this meaning. We can not quite accept the spelling. +There is, perhaps, room for controversy here. When the American army +first came to France the word attracted a good deal of attention and +some French philologists undertook to follow it to the source. One of +them quickly discovered that he was dealing not with a word but a +contracted phrase. We are of the opinion that thereafter he went astray, +for he declared that "Ataboy" was a contraction of "At her boy," and he +offered the freely translated substitute "Au travail garçon."</p> + +<p>It will be observed that Mr. Burke has given his attaboy a "t" too many. +"That's the boy" is the source of the word. Perhaps it would be more +accurately<a name="page_172" id="page_172"></a> spelled if written "'at 'a boy." The single "a" is a neutral +vowel which has come to take the place of the missing "the." The same +process has occurred in the popular phrases "'ataswingin'" and +"'ataworkin'." These, however, have a lesser standing. "Ataboy" is +almost official. One of the American army trains which ran regularly +from Paris to Chaumont began as the Atterbury special, being named after +the general in charge of railroads. In a week it had become the Ataboy +special, and so it remained even in official orders.</p> + +<p>Some of the slang which Burke records as being observed at the game is +palpably inaccurate. Thus he reports hearing a rooter shout, "Take orf +that pitcher!" It is safe to assume that what the rooter actually said +was, "Ta-ake 'im out!"</p> + +<p>Again Burke writes, "An everlasting chorus, with reference to the +scoring board, chanted like an anthem—'Go-ing up! Go-ing up! Go-ing +up!'"</p> + +<p>Now, as a matter of fact, the "go-ing up!" did not refer to the scoring +board, but to the pitcher who must have been manifesting signs of losing +control. The shouts of baseball crowds are so closely standardized that +we think we have a right to view with a certain distrust such unfamiliar +snatches of slang as "He's pitching over a plate in heaven," or "Gimme +some barb' wire. I wanter knit a sweater for the barnacle on second," +and also, "Hey, catcher, quit the diamond, and lemme l'il brother teach +you." It is impossible for us to reconcile "lemme l'il brother" and +"quit the diamond."</p> + +<p>It must be said in justice to Burke that it is entirely<a name="page_173" id="page_173"></a> possible that +he did hear some of the outlandish phrases which he has jotted down. +Among the dough-boys gathered for the game there may have been some +former college professor who had devoted the afternoon to convincing his +comrades that he was no highbrow, but a typical American. Such a theory +would account for "quit the diamond."<a name="page_174" id="page_174"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="XXXV" id="XXXV"></a>XXXV<br /><br /> +HOW TO WIN MONEY AT THE RACES——</h3> + +<p>Perseverance, courage, acumen, unceasing vigilance, hard work and +application are all required of the man who would win money at the +races. He should also have some capital in easily marketable securities.</p> + +<p>During his preliminary days at the university, the man who would win +money on the races should specialize in science. It will be quite +impossible for him in his later career to tell whether his selection was +beaten by a nose or a head, unless he is absolutely familiar with the +bone structure of the horse (Equidoe), (Ungulate), (E. caballus). In +freshman zoölogy he will learn that, at the highest, the teeth number +forty-four, and that the horse as a domestic animal dates from +prehistoric times. This will serve to explain to him the character of +the entries in some of the selling races.</p> + +<p>Geology will make it possible for him to distinguish between +"track—slow" and "track—muddy." The romance languages need not be +avoided. French will enable the student to ask the price on Trompe La +Morte without recourse to the subterfuge of "What are you laying on the +top one?" In spite of the amount of science required, the young man +will<a name="page_175" id="page_175"></a> find that he has small need of mathematics. A working knowledge of +subtraction will suffice.</p> + +<p>As has been well said in many a commencement address, college is not the +end but merely the beginning of education. The graduate should begin his +intensive preparation not later than twelve hours before going to the +track. He will find that the first edition of <i>The Morning Telegraph</i> is +out by midnight. Hindoo's selections are generally on page eight. I have +never known the identity of Hindoo, but there is internal evidence +pointing toward President Harding. At any rate, Hindoo is a man who has +mastered the pre-election style of the President. His good will to all +horses, black, brown and bay, is boundless.</p> + +<p>In studying Mr. Hindoo's advice concerning the first race at Belmont +Park last week, I found, "Captain Alcock—Last race seems to give him +the edge." If I had gone no further, my mind might have been easy, but +in chancing to look down the column I noted, "Servitor—Well suited +under the conditions"; "Pen Rose—Plainly the one that is to be feared"; +"Bellsolar—May be heard from if up to her last race." On such minute +examination the edge of Captain Alcock seemed to grow more blunt. +"Neddam," I discovered, "will bear watching," and "Hobey Baker may +furnish the surprise." To a man of scientific training such conflicting +testimony is disturbing. What for instance would the world have thought +of the scholarship of Aristotle if, after declaring that the earth was +spherical, he had added that it might be well to have a good place +bet—at two to one—on its being flat.<a name="page_176" id="page_176"></a></p> + +<p>As happens all too often in the swing away from science, mere emotion +was allowed to rush in unimpeded. Turning to a publication called <i>The +Daily Running Horse</i>, I found the section dealing with the first race to +be run at Belmont Park and read, "Captain Alcock is a nice horse right +now." That settled it. All too seldom in this world does one find an +individual who has the edge and still refrains from slashing about with +it and cutting people. Captain Alcock was represented to us as "nice" in +spite of the fact that he was "in with a second rate lot," as <i>The Daily +Running Horse</i> went on to state. Later it seemed to us that the boast +was in bad taste, but this factor, which we recognized immediately after +the running of the first race as groundless condescension, appeared at +the time a rather fetching sort of democracy. Captain Alcock was willing +to associate with second raters and didn't even mind admitting it.</p> + +<p>The price was eleven to ten, and after we made our bet the bookmaker +revised his figures down to nine to ten. There was a thrill in having +been a party to "hammering down the price." Soon we were to wish that +Captain Alcock had been much less nice. Away from the barrier he went on +his journey of a mile with a lead of two lengths. Next it was four and +then five. His heels threw dust upon the second raters. Around the turn +came Captain Alcock flaunting his edge in every stride. As they +straightened out into the stretch the man behind us remarked, "Captain +Alcock will win in a common canter."</p> + +<p>The Captain was content to do no such thing. Although in with second +raters he remained a nice horse<a name="page_177" id="page_177"></a> and he was willing to do nothing common +even for the sake of victory. He began to ease up in order to become +companionable with the field. Evidently he had felt unduly conspicuous +so far in front. Winning in a common canter was not cricket to his mind. +He wanted to make a race of it while there was still time. And as the +speed and the lead of Captain Alcock abated, down the stretch from far +in the rear dashed the black mare Bellsolar. Suddenly I remembered the +ominous words of Hindoo, "May be heard from if up to her last race." +Evidently Bellsolar was up. Captain Alcock was carrying the business of +being nice much too far. Before he could do anything about it, Bellsolar +was at his shoulders. She did not stop for greeting, but dashed past and +won before the genial Captain could begin sprinting again.</p> + +<p>As a matter of fact, it was not until the next day that I appreciated +just how much wisdom had been contained in <i>The Daily Running Horse</i>, +advice which I had neglected. Turning back to the first race I found, +"Advised play—None, too tough." If the tipster had only kept up that +pace throughout the afternoon all his followers would be winners at the +track.<a name="page_178" id="page_178"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="XXXVI" id="XXXVI"></a>XXXVI<br /><br /> +ONE TOUCH OF SLAPSTICK</h3> + +<p>The Duchess in <i>Clair de Lune</i> implored her gentleman friend to speak to +her roughly, using hedge and highroad talk. Theatrical managers have now +come to realize that many of us who may never hope to be duchesses are +still swayed by this back to the soil movement. The humor of musical +comedy grows more robust as the season wanes. It is broader, thicker +and, to my mind, funnier. Comedy, like Antæus, must keep at least a +tiptoe on the earth. When the spirit of fun begins to sicken it is time +that he should be hit severely with a bladder. Having been knocked down, +he will rise refreshed.</p> + +<p>All of which is preliminary to the expression of the opinion that Jim +Barton, now playing at the Century, is the funniest clown who has +appeared in New York this season. Mr. Barton was discovered in a +burlesque show by some astute theatrical scout several seasons ago. +Burlesque was several rungs higher in the ladder than his starting +point, for his career included appearances in carnivals and the little +shows which ply up and down some of the rivers, giving nightly +performances on their boat whenever there is a cluster of light big +enough to indicate a village. Jim Barton has been trained, therefore, +in<a name="page_179" id="page_179"></a> capturing the interest and attention of primitive and +unsophisticated theatergoers. This training has encouraged him in zest +and violence. It has impressed upon him the conception that the +fundamental appeal to all sorts of people and all sorts of intelligences +is rhythm. "When in doubt, dance" is his motto.</p> + +<p>Primarily he developed his dancing as something which should make people +laugh. It was, and is, full of stunts and grotesque movements and +surprising turns. But it has not remained just funny. Consciously or +unconsciously he knows, just as Charlie Chaplin knows, that funny things +must be savored with something else to capture interest completely. And +when you watch the antics of Barton and laugh there comes unexpectedly, +every now and then, a sudden tightening of the emotions as you realize +that some particular pose or movement is not funny at all, but a +gorgeously beautiful picture. For instance, when Barton begins his +skating dance the first reaction is one of amusement. There is a +recognizable burlesque of the traditional stunts of the man on ice, but +that is lost presently in the further realization that the thing is +amazingly skillful and graceful. Again he follows a Spanish dancer with +castanets and seems to depend upon nothing more than the easy laugh +accorded to the imitator, but as he goes on it isn't just a burlesque. +He has captured the whole spirit and rhythm of the dance.</p> + +<p>There is, perhaps, something of hypocrisy and swank in taking the +performance of Barton and seeming to imply, "Of course I like this man +because I see all sorts of things in his work that his old burlesque<a name="page_180" id="page_180"></a> +audiences never recognized." It is dishonest, too, because as a matter +of fact I like exactly the same things which won his audiences in the +old Columbia circuit. I have never been able to steel myself against the +moment in which the comedian steps up behind the stout lady and slaps +her resoundingly between the shoulder blades. Jim Barton is particularly +good because he hits louder and harder than any other comedian I ever +saw. But even for this liking a defense is possible. The influx of +burlesque methods ought to have a thoroughly cleansing influence in +American musical comedy. More refined entertainment has often been +unpleasantly salacious, not because it was daring but because it was +cowardly. Familiar stories of the smoking car and the barroom have been +brought into Broadway theaters often enough, but in disguised form. They +have minced into the theater. The appeal created by this form of humor +has been never to the honest laugh but to the smirk. If I were a censor +I think I would allow a performer to say or do almost anything in the +theater if only he did it frankly and openly. The blue pencil ought to +be used only against furtive things. You may not like smut, but it is +never half so objectionable as shamefacedness. The best tonic I can +think of for the hangdog school of musical comedy to which we have fast +been drifting is the immediate importation to Broadway of fifty +comedians exactly like Jim Barton. Of course, the only trouble is that +the scouts would probably turn up with the report that there was not +even one.</p> + +<p>Still rumor is going about of at least one other.<a name="page_181" id="page_181"></a> I am reliably +informed that Bobby Clark of <i>Peek-A-Boo</i> is one of the funniest men of +the year. Unfortunately I am not in a position to make a first hand +report because on the night his show opened at the Columbia I was +watching <i>Mixed Marriage</i> break into another theater, or attending a +revival of John Ferguson or something like that.</p> + +<p>Accordingly, I missed the scene in which Bobby Clark tries to put his +head into the lion's mouth. Clark must be a good comedian, because he +sounds funny even when you get him at second or third hand in the form, +"And then you see he says, 'You do it fine. You even smell like a lion. +Take off the head now and we'll get along.'"</p> + +<p>As it has been explained to me, Clark and the other comedian are hired +by a circus because the trained lion has suddenly become too ill to +perform. Clark's partner is to put on a lion's skin and pretend to be a +lion while Clark goes through the usual stunts of the trainer, including +the feat of putting his head into the lion's mouth. At the last minute +the lion recovers and is wheeled out on to the stage in a big cage. +Clark believes the animal is his partner in disguise and compliments him +warmly on the manner in which he roars. Finally, however, he becomes +irritated when there is no response, except a roar, to his request, +"Take off the head now and come on." After a second roar Clark remarks +with no little pique, "Come on, now, cut it out, you're not so good as +all that."</p> + +<p>What happens after that I don't know because the people who have been to +the Columbia Theater always<a name="page_182" id="page_182"></a> leave you in doubt as to whether Clark +actually goes into the lion's den or not. Presumably not, because later +in the show, according to these reports, there is a drill by The World's +Worst Zouaves in which Clark as the chief zouave whistles continually +for new formations only to have nothing happen. Whether Clark is the +originator of the material about the lion and the rest, or only the +executor, I am not prepared to say. All the scouts talk as if he made it +up as he went along, and whenever a comedian can bring about that state +of mind there need be no doubt of his ability.<a name="page_183" id="page_183"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="XXXVII" id="XXXVII"></a>XXXVII<br /><br /> +DANGER SIGNALS FOR READERS</h3> + +<p>By this time, of course, we ought to know the danger signals in a novel +and realize the exact spot at which to come to a full stop. On page 54 +of "The Next Corner," by Kate Jordan, we found the situation in which +Robert, husband, came face to face with Elsie, wife, after a separation +of three years. Mining interests had called him to Burma, and she, being +given the world to choose from, had decided to live in Paris. He was +punctual at the end of his three years in arriving at his wife's +apartment, but she was not there. The maid informed him that she had +gone to a tea at the home of the Countess Longueval. Without stopping to +wait for an invitation John hurried after her. He entered the huge and +garish reception room and there, yes there, was Elsie. But perhaps Miss +Jordan had better tell it:</p> + +<p>"The effect she produced on him, in her yellow gauze, that though +fashioned for afternoon wear was so transparent it left a good deal of +her body visible, with her face undisguisedly tricked out and her +gleaming cigarette poised, was a harsh one—a marionette with whom +fashion was an idolatry; an over-decorated, empty eggshell. She could +feel this, and in a desperate way persisted in the affectation<a name="page_184" id="page_184"></a> which +sustained her, the more so that under Robert's earnest gaze a feeling of +guilt made her hideously uncomfortable.</p> + +<p>"'Throw that away,' Robert said quietly with a scant look at the +cigarette."</p> + +<p>It seemed strange to us that Robert had been so little influenced toward +liberalism during his three years in Burma, for that was the spot where +Kipling's soldier found the little Burmese girl "a smokin' of a whackin' +big cheeroot."</p> + +<p>Still, Robert carried his point. Elsie, our heroine, gave a laugh. What +sort of a laugh, do you suppose? Quite so, "an empty laugh," and "she +turned to flick it from her fingers"; that is, the cigarette. Perhaps we +should add that she flicked it to "a table that held the smokers' +service." Elsie, undoubtedly, had degenerated during Robert's absence, +but she was still too much the lady to put ashes on the carpet. And yet +she did use cosmetics. This was the second thing which Robert took up +with her. In the cab he wanted to know why she put "all that stuff" on +her face. Perhaps her answer was a little perplexing, for she said, +"Embellishment, mon cher. Pour la beauté, pour la charme!"</p> + +<p>"I'm quite of the world in my tolerance," he explained to her. "If you +needed help of this sort and applied it delicately to your face I'd not +mind. In fact, if delicately done, probably I'd not know of it."</p> + +<p>This, of course, seems to us an immoral attitude. Things are right or +wrong, whether one notices them or not. After all, the recording angel +would know.<a name="page_185" id="page_185"></a> Elsie could use paint and powder with such delicacy as to +deceive him. However, we are interrupting Robert, who went on, and "His +voice grew kinder, although his eyes remained sternly grave."</p> + +<p>"It's been from the beginning of the world," he said, "and it is in the +East, wherever there are women. But—and make a note of it—they are +always women of a certain sort."</p> + +<p>Seemingly, Robert got away with this statement, although it is not true. +Manchu women of the highest degree paint a great scarlet circle on the +side of their face in spite of the fact that there is a native proverb +which, freely translated, may be rendered, "Discretion is the better +part of pallor."</p> + +<p>It is only fair to add that the indiscretions of Elsie went beyond +powder and paint and even beyond smoking cigarettes. When her husband +told her that he must make a brief business trip to England she asked to +be excused from accompanying him on the ground that she would prefer to +remain in Paris for a while. As a matter of fact, she planned to go to +Spain. And she did. She went to a house party at the home of Don Arturo +Valda y Moncado, Marques de Burgos. She had been told that it was to be +a house party, but when she got to the isolated little castle on the top +of the crag she found no one but Don Arturo Valda y Moncado, Marques de +Burgos. No sooner had she arrived than a storm began to rage and the +last mule coach went down the mountain. She must stay the night! Still, +after her first wild pleadings that he allow her to clamber down the +mountain alone at night until she<a name="page_186" id="page_186"></a> could find a hotel, reasonable in +price and respectable, she did not feel so lonely with Arturo. To be +sure, he sounded a good deal like a house party all by himself, and more +than that she loved him.</p> + +<p>After dinner he began to make love and soon she joined him. He grew +impassioned, and Elsie said that she would throw in her lot with his and +never leave him. In a transport of joy, Arturo was about to bestow upon +her one of those Spanish kisses which no novelist can round off in less +than a page and a half. Elsie commanded him to be patient. First, she +said, she must write a letter to her husband. In this moment Arturo was +superb in his Latin restraint. He did not suggest a cablegram or even a +special delivery stamp. Perhaps it would have meant death to go to the +postoffice on such a night. Elsie wrote to Robert, painstakingly and +frankly, confessing that she loved Arturo and was going to remain with +him and that she would not be home at all any more. Then a sure footed +serving man was intrusted with the letter and told to seek a post box on +the mountain side.</p> + +<p>No sooner was that out of the way than a Spanish peasant entered the +house and shot Arturo. It seems that Arturo had betrayed his daughter. +The shot killed Arturo and Elsie wished she had never sent the letter. +Unfortunately, you can't make your confession and eat it too. No +postscript was possible. Elsie staggered down the mountain side and a +chapter later she woke up in a hospital in Bordeaux. The strain had been +too great.</p> + +<p>Nor could we stand it either. We sought out somebody<a name="page_187" id="page_187"></a> else who had +already read the book and he told us that Elsie went back to America and +found her husband, and that for months and months she lived in an agony +of shame, thinking he knew all about what had never happened. Finally +she decided that he didn't, and then she lived months and months in an +agony of fear that the letter was still on its way. She got up every +morning, opening everything feverishly and finding only bills and +advertisements. At this point the person who knew the story was +interrupted in telling us about it, but we think we can supply the end.</p> + +<p>After more months and months, in which first shame died and then fear, +hope was born. And then came happiness. The old hunted look faded from +the eyes of Elsie. She seemed a superbly normal woman, save in one +respect. During the political campaign of 1920, when practically every +visitor who came to the house would remark, at one time or other during +the course of the evening, "Don't you think this man Burleson is a +mess?" Elsie would look up with just the suggestion of a faint smile +about her fine, sensitive mouth and answer, "Oh, I don't know."<a name="page_188" id="page_188"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="XXXVIII" id="XXXVIII"></a>XXXVIII<br /><br /> +ADVENTURE MADE PAINLESS</h3> + +<p>One of my favorite characters in all fiction is D'Artagnan. He was +forever fighting duels with people and stabbing them, or riding at top +speed over lonely roads at night to save a woman's name or something. I +believe that I glory in D'Artagnan because of my own utter inability to +do anything with a sword. Beyond self-inflicted razor wounds, no blood +has been shed by me. Horseback riding is equally foreign to my +experience, and I have done nothing for any woman's name. And why should +I? D'Artagnan does all these things so much better that there is not the +slightest necessity for personal muddling. When he gallops I ride too, +clattering along at breakneck speed between ghostly lines of trees. Only +there is no ache in my legs the next morning. Nor heartache either over +heroines.</p> + +<p>He is my substitute in adventure. After an evening with him I can go +down to the office in the morning and go through routine work without +the slightest annoying consciousness that it is, after all, pretty dull +stuff. I am not tempted to put on my hat and coat and fling up my job in +order to go out to seek adventures with swordsmen and horses and +provocative ladies in black masks.</p> + +<p>Undoubtedly there must be some longing in me for<a name="page_189" id="page_189"></a> all this or I would +not have such a keen interest in <i>The Three Musketeers</i>, but, having +read about it, there is no craving for actual deeds. Possibly, after a +long evening with a tale of adventure, I may swagger a little the next +day and puzzle a few office boys with a belligerent manner to which they +are not accustomed; but they do not fit into the picture perfectly +enough to maintain the mood. It has been satisfied, and when it begins +to tug again there are other books which will serve to gratify my keen +desire to hear the clink of blades and the sound of running footsteps on +the cobbles as the miscreants give way. The scurvy knaves! The system +saves time and expense and arnica. Without it I might not be altogether +reconciled to Brooklyn.</p> + +<p>In my opinion, most of the men and women whom I know find the same +relief in books and plays and motion pictures. The rather stout lady on +the floor below us has three small children. I imagine that they are a +fearful nuisance, but recently, after getting them to bed, she has been +reading "The Sheik." Her husband—he is one of these masterful men—told +me that he had glanced at the book himself and found it silly and highly +colored. He said that he was going to tell her to stop. I agreed with +him as to the silliness of the book, but it seemed to me that his wife +had earned her right to a fling on the desert. If I knew him a little +better, I would go on to say that it ought to comfort him to have his +wife reading such a highly flavored romance. He is excessively jealous, +and he ought to be pleased to have a possibly roving fancy so completely +occupied by an<a name="page_190" id="page_190"></a> intense interest in an Arab chieftain who never +lived—no, not even in Arabia or any place at all outside the pages of a +book. The husband has no need to worry. There is no one in our +neighborhood who resembles Ben Ahmed Abdullah—or whatever his fool name +may be.</p> + +<p>Once, when my neighbor found me at the door of his apartment, where I +had gone to borrow half an orange, he seemed unusually surly. That was +certainly a groundless suspicion. At the time I was entirely absorbed in +"The Outline of History." Mrs. X—of course I can't give her name or +even provide any description which might serve to identify her—was +entirely safe from my attentions, for during that particular week I was +rather taken with Cleopatra, even though Wells did speak slightingly of +her. Unfortunately we have no adequate idea of Cleopatra's appearance. +Wells attempts no description. The only existing portrait is one of +those conventionalized Egyptian things with the arms held out stiffly as +if the siren of the Nile was trying to indicate to the clerk the size of +the shoe which she desired. Still, we can imply something from the +enthusiasm of Antony and the others. Somehow or other, I have always +felt sure that there was not the slightest resemblance between Cleopatra +and Mrs. X.</p> + +<p>Here is what I am trying to get at. Mr. X sells something or other, and +apparently nobody in New York wants it, which makes it necessary for him +to go on long journeys in which he touches Providence, Boston, New +Bedford, and Bangor. Practically all my evenings are spent at home.<a name="page_191" id="page_191"></a></p> + +<p>I have spoken of the stairs, but it is only a short flight. Mrs. X is +sentimental and I am romantic. And we are both quite safe, and Mr. X can +go peacefully and enthusiastically around Bangor selling whatever it is +which he has to sell. I resemble the Sheik Ben Ahmed Abdullah even less +than Mrs. X resembles Cleopatra. Mr. Smith (we might as well abandon +subterfuges and come out frankly with the name, since I have already +been indiscreet enough for him to identify the personages concerned) has +no rival but a phantom one.</p> + +<p>Realizing how much Smith and I and Mrs. Smith owe to the protecting +consolations of fiction, which includes history as written by Wells, I +feel that I ought to go on to generalize in favor of many much-abused +types of entertainment. Whenever a youngster steals anything, or a wife +runs away from home, the motion pictures are blamed. Censorship is +devoted to removing all traces of bloodshed from the films. Police +magistrates are called in to suppress farces dealing with folk given to +high jinks, on the ground that they threaten the morals of the +community. We assume, of course, that the censors are thinking of morals +in terms of deeds. They can hardly be ambitious enough to hope to +curtail the thoughts of a community.</p> + +<p>And I deny their major premise. Evil instincts are in us all. +Practically everybody would enjoy robbing a bank or running away with +somebody with whom he ought not to run away. These lawless instincts are +invariably drained off by watching their mimic presentment in novels and +films and plays.<a name="page_192" id="page_192"></a></p> + +<p>If only accurate statistics were available, I would wager and win on the +proposition that not half of 1 per cent of all the cracksmen in America +have ever seen <i>Alias Jimmy Valentine</i>. No burglar could watch the play +without being shamed out of his job by sheer envy. An ounce of +self-respect—and there are figures to show that yeggs average three and +a quarter—would keep a crook from continuing in his bungling way after +observing the manner in which Jimmy Valentine opens the door of a safe +merely by sandpapering his fingers. What sort of person do you suppose +could go and buy nitroglycerine ungrudgingly after that? Even by the +least optimistic estimate of human nature, the worst we could expect +from a criminal who had seen the play would be to have him make a +gallant and sincere effort to employ the touch system in his own career. +Such attempts would be easy to frustrate. Night watchmen could creep up +on the idealists and catch them unaware. They could be traced by their +cursing. And, of course, the police might keep an eye open at the doors +of the sandpaper shops.</p> + +<p><i>Kiki</i>, David Belasco's adaptation from the French, taps another rich +vein of human depravity and allows it to be exploited and exhausted by +means of drama. The heroine of the play is a rowdy little baggage. She +has a civil word for no man. The truth is not in her. Now, every child +born into the world would like to lie and be impertinent. There is +practically no fun in being polite, and truth-telling is most +indifferent judged solely as an indoor sport. Manners and veracity are +things which people<a name="page_193" id="page_193"></a> learn slowly and painfully. Undoubtedly both are +useful, though I am not at all sure that their importance is not +somewhat exaggerated. Community life demands certain sacrifices, +particularly as the pressure of civilization increases. The men of a +primitive tribe do not get up in the subway to give their seats to +ladies, because they have no subways. Likewise, having no hats, they are +not obliged to take them off. Of course it goes deeper than that. Even a +primitive civilization has weather, and yet one seldom hears an Indian +in his native state observing: "Isn't it unusually warm for November?"</p> + +<p>Once everybody was primitive, and the most intensive training cannot +wholly obliterate the old longing to be done with strange and +self-imposed trappings. Until it is licked out of them, children are +savagely rude. Training can alter practice, but even the most severe +chastisement cannot get deep enough to affect an instinct. We all want +to be rude, and we would, now and again, break loose in unrestrained +spells of boorishness if it were not for an occasional Kiki who does the +work for us. Accordingly, one of the most salutary forms of +entertainment is the comedy of bad manners which recurs in our theater +every once in so often.</p> + +<p>"But," I hear somebody objecting, "no matter how much each of us may +like to be rude, we don't care much about it when it is done to us. In +real life we would all run from Kiki because her monstrous bragging +would irritate us, and her vulgarity and bad manners would be most +annoying."</p> + +<p>All that would be true but for one factor. In any<a name="page_194" id="page_194"></a> play which achieves +success a curious transference of personality takes place. Before a play +begins the audience is separated from the people on the stage by a +number of barriers. First of all, there is the curtain, but by and by +that goes up. The orchestra pit and the footlights still stand as moats +to keep us at our distance. Then the magic of the playhouse begins to +have its effect. If the actors and the playwrights know the tricks of +the business, they soon lift each impressionable person from his seat +and carry him spiritually right into the center of the happenings. He +becomes one or more persons in the play. We do not weep when Hamlet dies +because we care anything in particular about him. His death can hardly +come as a surprise. We knew he was going to die. We even knew that he +had been dead for a long time.</p> + +<p>Probably a few changes have been made in adapting <i>Kiki</i> from the +French. Kiki is made just a bit more respectable than she was in the +French version, but she remains enough of a gamin and a rebel against +taste and morals to satisfy the outlaw spirit of an American audience. +She is for the New York stage "a good girl," but since this seems to be +only the slightest check upon her speech and conduct, there can be no +violent objection. Of course the type is perfectly familiar in the +American theater, but this time it seems to us better written than +usual, and much more skillfully and warmly played. Indeed, in my +opinion, Miss Ulric's Kiki is the best comedy performance of the season. +Even this is not quite enough. It has been a lean season, and this +particular<a name="page_195" id="page_195"></a> piece of acting is good enough to stand out in a brilliant +one. The final scene of the play, in which Kiki apologizes for being +virtuous, seems to me a truly dazzling interpretation of emotions. It is +comic because it is surprising, and it is surprising because it concerns +some of the true things which people neglect to discuss.</p> + +<p>By seeing <i>Alias Jimmy Valentine</i>, the safe-cracking instinct which lies +dormant in us may be satisfied. <i>Kiki</i> allows us to indulge our fondness +for being rude without alienating our friends. But more missionary work +remains. In <i>The Idle Inn</i>, Ben-Ami appears as a horse thief. +Personally, I have no inclination in that direction. I would not have +the slightest idea what to do with a horse after stealing him. My +apartment is quite small and up three flights of stairs. However, there +are other vices embodied in the rôle which are more appealing to me. The +rôle is that of a masterful man, which has always been among my thwarted +ambitions. In the second act Ben-Ami breaks through a circle of dancing +villagers and, seizing the bride, carries her off to the forest. +Probably New York will never realize how many weddings have been carried +on without mishap this season solely because of Ben-Ami's performance in +<i>The Idle Inn</i>. In addition to entrusting him with all my eloping for +the year, I purpose to let Ben-Ami swagger for me. He does it superbly. +To my mind this young Jewish actor is one of the most vivid performers +in our theater. His silences are more eloquent than the big speeches of +almost any other star on Broadway.<a name="page_196" id="page_196"></a></p> + +<p>The play is nothing to boast about. Once it was in Yiddish, and as far +as spirit goes it remains there. Once it was a language, and now it is +words. The usually adroit Arthur Hopkins has fallen down badly by +providing Ben-Ami with a mediocre company. He suffers like an +All-America halfback playing on a scrub team. The other players keep +getting in his way.</p> + +<p>One more production may be drawn into the discussion, but only by +extending the field of inquiry a little. <i>The Chocolate Soldier,</i> which +is based on Shaw's <i>Arms and the Man,</i> can hardly be said to satisfy the +soldiering instinct in us by a romantic tale of battle. Shaw's method is +more direct. He contents himself with telling us that the only people +who do get the thrill of adventure out of war are those who know it only +in imagination. His perfect soldier is prosaic. It is the girl who has +never seen a battle who romances about it. Still, Shaw does make it +possible for us to practice one vice vicariously. After seeing a piece +by him the spectator does not feel the need of being witty. He can just +sit back and let George do it.<a name="page_197" id="page_197"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="XXXIX" id="XXXIX"></a>XXXIX<br /><br /> +THE TALL VILLA</h3> + +<p>"The Tall Villa," by Lucas Malet, is a novel, but it may well serve as a +textbook for those who want to know how to entertain a ghost. There need +be no question that such advice is needed. For all the interest of the +present generation in psychical research, we treat apparitions with +scant courtesy. Suppose a visitor goes into a haunted room and at +midnight is awakened by a specter who carries a bloody dagger in one +hand and his ghostly head in the other; does the guest ask the ghost to +put his things down and stay a while? He does not. Instead, he rushes +screaming from the room or pulls the bedclothes over his head and dies +of fright.</p> + +<p>Ghosts walk because they crave society and they get precious little of +it. Frances Copley, the heroine of "The Tall Villa," managed things much +better. When the apparition of Lord Oxley first appeared to her she did +not faint or scream. On the contrary, the author tells us, "The +breeding, in which Frances Copley trusted, did not desert her now. After +the briefest interval she went on playing—she very much knew not what, +discords more than probably, as she afterward reflected!"</p> + +<p>After all, Lord Oxley may have been a ghost, but<a name="page_198" id="page_198"></a> he was still a +gentleman. Indeed, when she saw him later she perceived that the shadow +"had grown, in some degree, substantial, taking on for the most part, +definite outline, definite form and shape. That, namely, of a young man +of notably distinguished bearing, dressed (in as far as, through the +sullen evening light, Frances could make out) in clothes of the highest +fashion, though according to a long discarded coloring and cut."</p> + +<p>From friends of the family Frances learned that young Oxley, who had +been dead about a century and a half, had shot himself on account of +unrequited love. After having looked him up and found that he was an +eligible ghost in every particular, Frances decided to take him up. She +continued to play for him without the discords. In fact, she began to +look forward to his afternoon calls with a great deal of pleasure. Her +husband did not understand her. She did not like his friends, and his +friends' friends were impossible. Oxley's calls, on the other hand, were +a social triumph. He was punctiliously exclusive. Nobody else could even +see him. When he came into the room others often noticed that the room +grew suddenly and surprisingly chilly, but the author fails to point out +whether that was due to Lord Oxley's station in life or after life.</p> + +<p>Bit by bit the acquaintance between Frances and the ghost ripened. At +first she never looked at him directly, but regarded his shadow in the +mirror. And they communicated only through music. Later Frances made so +bold as to speak to his lordship.</p> + +<p>"When you first came," she said, her voice veiled,<a name="page_199" id="page_199"></a> husky, even a little +broken, "I was afraid. I thought only of myself. I was terrified both at +you and what you might demand from me. I hastened to leave this house, +to go away and try to forget. But I wasn't permitted to forget. While I +was away much concerning you was told me which changed my feeling toward +you and showed me my duty. I have come back of my own free will. I am +still afraid, but I no longer mind being afraid. My desire now is not to +avoid, but rather to meet you. For, as I have learned, we are kinsfolk, +you and I; and since this house is mine, you are in a sense my guest. Of +that I have come to be glad. I claim you as part of my inheritance—the +most valued, the most welcome portion, if you so will it. If I can help, +serve, comfort you, I am ready to do so to the utmost of my poor +capacity."</p> + +<p>Alexis, Lord Oxley, made no reply, but it was evident that he accepted +her offer of service and comfort graciously, for he continued to call +regularly. His manners were perfect, although it is true that he never +sent up his card, and yet in one matter Frances felt compelled to chide +him and even tearfully implore a reformation. It made her nervous when +she noticed one day that he carried in his right hand the ghost of the +pistol with which he had shot himself. Agreeably he abandoned his +century old habit, but later he was able to give more convincing proof +of his regard for Frances. She was alone in the Tall Villa when her +husband's vulgar friend, Morris Montagu, called. He came to tell her +that her husband was behaving disgracefully in South America,<a name="page_200" id="page_200"></a> and on +the strength of that fact he made aggressive love. "Montagu's voice grew +rasping and hoarse. But before, paralyzed by disgust and amazement, +Frances had time to apprehend his meaning or combat his purpose, his +coarse, pawlike—though much manicured—hand grasped her wrist."</p> + +<p>Suddenly the room grew chilly and Morris Montagu, in mortal terror, +relaxed his grip and began to run for the door as he cried, "Keep off, +you accursed devil, I tell you. Don't touch me. Ah! Ah! Damn you, keep +off——"</p> + +<p>It is evident to the reader that the ghost of Alexis, Lord Oxley, is +giving the vulgar fellow what used to be known as "the bum's rush" in +the days before the Volstead act. At any rate, the voice of Montagu grew +feeble and distant and died away in the hall. Then the front door +slammed. Frances was saved!</p> + +<p>After that, of course, it was evident to Alexis, Lord Oxley, and Frances +that they loved each other. He began to talk to her in a husky and +highfalutin style. He even stood close to her chair and patted her head. +"Presently," writes Lucas Malet, "his hand dwelt shyly, lingering upon +her bent head, her cheek, the nape of her slender neck. And Frances felt +his hand as a chill yet tender draw, encircling, playing upon her. This +affected her profoundly, as attacking her in some sort through the +medium of her senses, from the human side, and thereby augmenting rather +than allaying the fever of her grief."</p> + +<p>Naturally, things could not go on in that way forever, and so Alexis, +Lord Oxley, arranged that Frances should cross the bridge with him into +the<a name="page_201" id="page_201"></a> next life. It was not difficult to arrange this. She had only to +die. And so she did. All of which goes to prove that though it is well +to be polite and well spoken to ghosts, they will bear watching as much +as other men.<a name="page_202" id="page_202"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="XL" id="XL"></a>XL<br /><br /> +PROFESSOR GEORGE PIERCE BAKER</h3> + +<p>A great many persons speak and write about Professor George Pierce +Baker, of Harvard, as if he were a sort of agitator who made a practice +of luring young men away from productive labor to write bad plays. There +is no denying the fact that a certain number of dramatists have come out +of Harvard's English 47, but the course also has a splendid record of +cures. Few things in the world are so easy as to decide to write a play. +It carries a sense of satisfaction entirely disproportionate to the +amount of effort entailed. Even the failure to put a single line on +paper brings no remorse, for it is easy to convince yourself that the +thing would have had no chance in the commercial theater.</p> + +<p>All this would be well enough except that the author of a phantom play +is apt to remain a martyr throughout his life. He makes a very bad +husband and father and a worse bridge partner. Freudians know the +complaint as the Euripidean complex. The sufferer is ailing because his +play lies suppressed in his subconscious mind.</p> + +<p>Professor Baker digs these plays out. People who come to English 47 may +talk about their plays as much as they choose, but they must write them, +too.<a name="page_203" id="page_203"></a> Often a cure follows within forty-eight hours after the completion +of a play. Sometimes it is enough for the author to read the thing +through for himself, but if that does not avail there is an excellent +chance for him after his play has been read aloud by Professor Baker and +criticized by the class. If a pupil still wishes to write plays after +this there is no question that he belongs in the business. He may, of +course, never earn a penny at it but, starve or flourish, he is a +playwright.</p> + +<p>Professor Baker deserves the thanks of the community, then, not only for +Edward Sheldon, and Cleves Kincaid, and Miss Lincoln and Eugene O'Neill +and some of the other playwrights who came from English 47, but also for +the number of excellent young men who have gone straight from his +classroom to Wall Street, and the ministry, and automobile accessories +with all the nascent enthusiasm of men just liberated from a great +delusion.</p> + +<p>In another respect Professor Baker has often been subjected to much +undeserved criticism. Somebody has figured out that there are 2.983 more +rapes in the average English 47 play than in the usual non-collegiate +specimen of commercial drama. We feel comparatively certain that there +is nothing in the personality of Professor Baker to account for this or +in the traditions of Harvard, either. We must admit that nowhere in the +world is a woman quite so unsafe as in an English 47 play, but the +faculty gives no official encouragement to this undergraduate enthusiasm +for sex problems. One must look beyond the Dean and the faculty for an +explanation. It has something<a name="page_204" id="page_204"></a> to do with Spring, and the birds, and the +saplings and "What Every Young Man Ought to Know" and all that sort of +thing.</p> + +<p>When I was in English 47 I remember that all our plays dealt with Life. +At that none of us regarded it very highly. Few respected it and +certainly no one was in favor of it. The course was limited to juniors, +seniors and graduate students and we were all a little jaded. There were +times, naturally, when we regretted our lost illusions and longed to be +freshmen again and to believe everything the Sunday newspapers said +about Lillian Russell. But usually there was no time for regrets; we +were too busy telling Life what we thought about it. Here there was a +divergence of opinion. Some of the playwrights in English 47 said that +Life was a terrific tragedy. In their plays the hero shot himself, or +the heroine, or both, as the circumstances might warrant, in the last +act. The opposing school held that Life was a joke, a grim jest to be +sure, cosmic rather than comic, but still mirthful. The plays by these +authors ended with somebody ordering "Another small bottle of Pommery" +and laughing mockingly, like a world-wise cynic.</p> + +<p>Bolshevism had not been invented at that time, but Capital was severely +handled just the same. All our villains were recruited from the upper +classes. Yet capitalism had an easy time of it compared with marriage. I +do not remember that a single play which I heard all year in 47, whether +from Harvard or Radcliffe, had a single word of toleration, let alone +praise, for marriage. And yet it was dramatically<a name="page_205" id="page_205"></a> essential, for +without marriage none of us would have been able to hammer out our +dramatic tunes upon the triangle. Most of the epigrams also were about +marriage. "Virtue is a polite word for fear," that is the sort of thing +we were writing when we were not empowering some character to say, +"Honesty is a bedtime fairy story invented for the proletariat," or "The +prodigal gets drunk; the Puritan gets religion."</p> + +<p>But up to date Professor Baker has stood up splendidly under this yearly +barrage of epigrams. With his pupils toppling institutions all around +him he has held his ground firmly and insisted on the enduring quality +of the fundamental technic of the drama. When a pupil brings in a play +in favor of polygamy, Baker declines to argue but talks instead about +peripety. In other words, Professor Baker is wise enough to realize that +it is impossible that he should furnish, or even attempt to mold in any +way, the philosophy which his students bring into English 47 each year. +If it is often a crude philosophy that is no fault of his. He can't +attempt to tell the fledgling playwrights what things to say and, of +course, he doesn't. English 47 is designed almost entirely to give a +certain conception of dramatic form. Professor Baker "tries in the light +of historical practice to distinguish the permanent from the impermanent +in technic." He endeavors, "by showing the inexperienced dramatist how +experienced dramatists have solved problems similar to his own, to +shorten a little the time of apprenticeship."</p> + +<p>When a man has done with Baker he has begun<a name="page_206" id="page_206"></a> to grasp some of the things +he must not do in writing a play. With that much ground cleared all that +he has to do is to acquire a knowledge of life, devise a plot and find a +manager.<a name="page_207" id="page_207"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="XLI" id="XLI"></a>XLI<br /><br /> +WHAT SHAKESPEARE MISSED</h3> + +<p>Next to putting a gold crown upon a man's head and announcing, "I create +you emperor," no evil genius could serve him a worse turn than by giving +him a blue pencil and saying: "Now you're a censor." Unfortunately +mankind loves to possess the power of sitting in judgment. In some +respects the life of a censor is more exhilarating than that of an +emperor. The best the emperor can do is to snip off the heads of men and +women, who are mere mortals. The censor can decapitate ideas which but +for him might have lived forever. Think, for instance, of the +extraordinary thrill which might come to a matter-of-fact individual +living to-day in the city of Philadelphia if he happened to be the +censor to whom the moving-picture version of "Macbeth" was submitted. +His eye would light upon the subtitle "Give me the dagger," and, turning +to the volume called "Rules and Standards," he would find among the +prohibitions: "Pictures which deal at length with gun play, and the use +of knives."</p> + +<p>"That," one hears the censor crying in triumph, "comes out."</p> + +<p>"But," we may fancy the producer objecting, "you<a name="page_208" id="page_208"></a> can't take that out; +Shakespeare wrote it, and it belongs in the play."</p> + +<p>"I don't care who wrote it," the censor could answer. "It can't be shown +in Pennsylvania."</p> + +<p>And it couldn't. The little fat man with the blue pencil—and censors +always become fat in time—can stand with both his feet upon the face of +posterity; he can look Fame in the eye and order her to quit trumpeting; +he can line his wastebasket with the greatest notions which have stirred +the mind of man. Like Joshua of old, he can command the sun and the moon +to stand still until they have passed inspection. Cleanliness, it has +been said, is next to godliness, but just behind comes the censor.</p> + +<p>Perhaps you may object that the censor would do none of the things +mentioned. Perhaps he wouldn't, but the Pennsylvania State Board of +Censors of Motion Pictures has been sufficiently alive to the +possibilities of what it might want to do in reëditing the classics to +give itself, specifically, supreme authority over the judgment and the +work of dead masters. Under Section 22 of "Standards of the Board" we +find:</p> + +<p>"That the theme or story of a picture is adapted from a publication, +whether classical or not; or that portions of a picture follow paintings +or other illustrations, is not a sufficient reason for the approval of a +picture or portions of a picture."</p> + +<p>As a matter of fact, it is pretty hard to see just how "Macbeth" could +possibly come to the screen in Pennsylvania. It might be banned on any +one of several counts. For instance, "Prolonged fighting<a name="page_209" id="page_209"></a> scenes will be +shortened, and brutal fights will be wholly disapproved." Nobody can +question that the murder of Banquo was brutal. "The use of profane and +objectionable language in subtitles will be disapproved," which would +handicap Macduff a good deal in laying on in his usual fashion.</p> + +<p>"Gruesome and unduly distressing scenes will be disapproved. These +include shooting, stabbing, profuse bleeding——" If Shakespeare had +only written with Pennsylvania in mind, Duncan might be still alive and +Lady Macbeth sleep as well as the next one.</p> + +<p>But at this point we recognize another gentleman who wishes to protest +against any more attacks upon motion-picture censorship being made which +rest wholly on supposition. He has read "Standards of the Board," issued +by the gentlemen in Pennsylvania, and he asserts that all the rules laid +down are legitimate if interpreted with intelligence.</p> + +<p>It will not be necessary to put the whole list of rules in evidence +since there need be no dispute as to the propriety of such rules as +prohibit moving pictures about white slavery and the drug traffic. +Skipping these, we come to No. 5, which is as follows:</p> + +<p>"Scenes showing the modus operandi of criminals which are suggestive and +incite to evil action, such as murder, poisoning, housebreaking, safe +robbery, pocket picking, the lighting and throwing of bombs, the use of +ether, chloroform, etc., to render men and women unconscious, binding +and gagging, will be disapproved."</p> + +<p>Here I take the liberty of interrupting for a<a name="page_210" id="page_210"></a> moment to protest that +the board has framed this rule upon the seeming assumption that to see +murders, robberies, and the rest is to wish at once to emulate the +criminals. This theory is in need of proving. "A good detective story" +is the traditional relaxation of all men high in power in times of +stress, but it is not recorded of Roosevelt, Wilson, Secretary of State +Hughes, Lloyd George, nor of any of the other noted devotees of criminal +literature that he attempted to put into practice any of the things of +which he read. But to get on with the story:</p> + +<p>"(6) Gruesome and unduly distressing scenes will be disapproved. These +include shooting, stabbing, profuse bleeding, prolonged views of men +dying and of corpses, lashing and whipping and other torture scenes, +hangings, lynchings, electrocutions, surgical operations, and views of +persons in delirium or insane."</p> + +<p>Here, of course, a great deal is left to the discretion of the censors. +Just what is "gruesome and unduly distressing"? This, I fancy, must +depend upon the state of the censor's digestion. To a vegetarian censor +it might be nothing more than a close-up of a beefsteak dinner. To a man +living in the city which supports the Athletics and the Phillies a mere +flash of a baseball game might be construed as "gruesome and unduly +distressing."</p> + +<p>This is another of the rules which puts Shakespeare in his place, +sweeping out, as it does, both Lear and Ophelia. And possibly Hamlet. +Was Hamlet mad? The Pennsylvania censors will have to take that question +up in a serious way sooner or later.<a name="page_211" id="page_211"></a></p> + +<p>"(7) Studio and other scenes, in which the human form is shown in the +nude, or the body is unduly exposed, will be disapproved."</p> + +<p>This fails to state whether the prohibition includes the reproduction of +statues shown publicly and familiarly to all comers in our museums.</p> + +<p>Prohibition No. 8, which deals with eugenics, birth control and similar +subjects, may be passed without comment, as it refers rather to news +than to feature pictures.</p> + +<p>Prohibition No. 9 covers a wide field:</p> + +<p>"Stories or scenes holding up to ridicule and reproach races, classes, +or other social groups, as well as the irreverent and sacrilegious +treatment of religious bodies or other things held to be sacred, will be +disapproved."</p> + +<p>Here we have still another rule which might be invoked against Hamlet's +coming to the screen, since the chance remark, "Something is rotten in +the state of Denmark," might logically be held to be offensive to +Scandinavians. "The Merchant of Venice," of course, would have no +chance, not only as anti-Semitic propaganda, but because it holds up +money lenders, a well-known social group, to ridicule.</p> + +<p>No. 10 briefly forbids pictures which deal with counterfeiting, +seemingly under the impression that if this particular crime is never +mentioned the members of the underworld may possibly forget its +existence. In No. 11 there is the direct prohibition of "scenes showing +men and women living together without marriage." Here the greatest +difficulty will fall upon those film manufacturers who deal in travel<a name="page_212" id="page_212"></a> +pictures. No exhibitor is safe in flashing upon a screen the picture of +a cannibal man and woman and several little cannibals in front of their +hut without first ascertaining from the camera man that he went inside +and inspected the wedding certificate. No. 13 forbids the use of +"profane and objectionable language," which we shall find later has been +construed to include the simple "Hell."</p> + +<p>Under 15 we find this ruling: "Views of incendiarism, burning, wrecking, +and the destruction of property, which may put like action into the +minds of those of evil instincts, or may degrade the morals of the +young, will be disapproved."</p> + +<p>In other words, Nero may fiddle to his heart's content, but he must do +it without the inspiration of the burning of Rome. Curiously enough, +throughout all the rules of censorship there runs a continuous train of +reasoning that the pictures must be adapted to the capacity and +mentality of the lowest possible person who could wander into a picture +house. The picture-loving public, in the minds of the censors, seems to +be honeycombed with potential murderers, incendiaries, and +counterfeiters. Rule No. 16 discourages scenes of drunkenness, and adds +chivalrously: "Especially if women have a part in the scenes."</p> + +<p>Next we come to a rule which would handicap vastly any attempt to +reproduce Stevenson or any other lover of the picaresque upon the +screen. "Pictures which deal at length with gun play," says Rule 17, +"and the use of knives, and are set in the underworld, will be +disapproved. Prolonged fighting<a name="page_213" id="page_213"></a> scenes will be shortened and brutal +fights will be wholly disapproved."</p> + +<p>What, we wonder, would the censors do with a picture about Thermopylæ? +Would they, we wonder, command that resistance be shortened if the +picture was to escape the ban? The Alamo was another fight which dragged +on unduly, and Grant was guilty of great disrespect in his famous "If it +takes all summer," not to mention the impudent incitement toward the +prolongation of a fight in Lawrence's "Don't give up the ship."</p> + +<p>No. 19 suggests difficulties in its ban on "sensual kissing and +love-making scenes." Naturally the question arises: "At just what point +does a kiss become sensual?" Here the censors, to their credit, have +been clear and definite in their ruling. They have decided that a kiss +remains chaste for ten feet. If held upon the screen for as much as an +inch above this limit, it changes character and becomes sensual. Here, +at any rate, morality has been measured with an exactitude which is +rare.</p> + +<p>No. 20 is puzzling. It begins, liberally enough, with the announcement +that "Views of women smoking will not be disapproved as such," but then +adds belatedly that this ruling does not apply if "their manner of +smoking is suggestive." Suggestive of what, I wonder? Perhaps the +censors mean that it is all right for women to smoke in moving pictures +if only they don't inhale, but it would have been much more simple to +have said just that. No. 22 is the famous proclamation that the +classics, as well as other themes, must meet Pennsylvania requirements,<a name="page_214" id="page_214"></a> +and in 23 we have a fine general rule which covers almost anything a +censor may want to do. "Themes or incidents in picture stories," it +reads, "which are designed to inflame the mind to improper adventures, +or to establish false standards of conduct, coming under the foregoing +classes, or of other kinds, will be disapproved. Pictures will be judged +as a whole, with a view to their final total effect; those portraying +evil in any form which may be easily remembered or emulated will be +disapproved."</p> + +<p>Perhaps there are still some who remain unconvinced as to the excesses +of censorship. The argument may be advanced that nothing is wrong with +the rules mentioned if only they are enforced with discretion and +intelligence. In answer to this plea the best thing to do would be to +consider a few of the eliminations in definite pictures which were +required by the Pennsylvania board and by the one in Ohio which operates +under a somewhat similar set of regulations. An industrial play called +"The Whistle" was banned in its entirety in Pennsylvania under the +following ruling: "Disapproved under Section 6 of the Act of 1915. +Symbolism of the title raises class antagonism and hatred, and +throughout subtitles, scenes, and incidents have the same effect."</p> + +<p>But most astounding of all was the final observation: "Child-labor and +factory laws of this State would make incident shown impossible." In +other words, if a thing did not happen in Pennsylvania it is assumed not +to have happened at all. It is entirely possible that the next producer +who brings an Indian picture to the censors may be asked to eliminate +the<a name="page_215" id="page_215"></a> elephants on the ground that "there aren't any in this State."</p> + +<p>The same State ordered out of "Officer Cupid," a comedy, a scene in +which one of the chief comedians was seen robbing a safe, presumably +under the section against showing crime upon the stage.</p> + +<p>Most troublesome of all were the changes ordered into the screen version +of Augustus Thomas's well-known play "The Witching Hour." It may be +remembered that the villain of this piece was an assistant district +attorney in the State of Kentucky, but Pennsylvania would not have him +so. It is difficult to find any specific justification for this attitude +in the published standards of the State unless we assume that a district +attorney was classified as belonging to the group "other things held to +be sacred" which were not to be treated lightly. The first ruling of the +censors in regard to "The Witching Hour" ran: "Reel One—Eliminate +subtitle 'Frank Hardmuth, assistant district attorney,' and substitute +'Frank Hardmuth, a prosperous attorney.'"</p> + +<p>Next came: "Reel Two—Eliminate subtitle, 'I can give her the +best—money, position, and, as far as character—I am district attorney +now, and before you know it I will be the governor,' and substitute: 'I +can give her the best—money, position, and, as far as character—I am +now a prosperous attorney, and before you know it I will be running for +governor.'"</p> + +<p>And again: "Eliminate subtitle: 'Exactly—but you have taken an oath to +stand by this city,' and substitute: 'Exactly, but you have taken an +oath to stand by the law.'"<a name="page_216" id="page_216"></a></p> + +<p>This curious complex that even assistant district attorneys should be +above suspicion ran through the entire film. Simpler was the change of +the famous curtain line which was familiar to all theatergoers of New +York ten or twelve seasons ago when "The Witching Hour" was one of the +hits of the season. It may be remembered that at the end of the third +act Frank Hardmuth, then a district attorney and not yet reduced to a +prosperous attorney, ran into the library of the hero to kill him. The +hero's name we have forgotten, but he was a professional gambler, of a +high type, who later turned hypnotist. Hardmuth thrust a pistol into his +stomach, and we can still see the picture and hear the line as John +Mason turned and said: "You can't shoot that gun [and then after a long +pause]: You can't even hold it." Hardmuth, played by George Nash, +staggered back and exclaimed, just before the curtain came down: "I'd +like to know how in Hell you did that to me." It can hardly have been +equally effective in moving pictures after the censor made the caption +read: "I'd like to know how you did that to me." The original version +fell under the ban against profanity.</p> + +<p>In Ohio a more recent picture called "The Gilded Lily" had not a little +trouble. Here the Board of Censors curtly ordered: "First Reel—Cut out +girl smoking cigarette which she takes from man." Seemingly they did not +even stop to consider whether or not she smoked it suggestively. And +again in the third reel came the order: "Cut out all scenes of girl's +smoking cigarette at table." Most curious of all was the order: "Cut out +verse with words: 'I'm<a name="page_217" id="page_217"></a> a little prairie flower growing wilder every +hour.'"</p> + +<p>William Vaughn Moody's "The Faith Healer" was considered a singularly +dignified and moving play in its dramatic form, but the picture ran into +difficulties, as usual, in Pennsylvania. "Eliminate subtitle," came the +order: "'Your power is not gone because you love—but because your love +has fallen on one unworthy.'" As this is a fair statement of the idea +upon which Mr. Moody built his play, it cannot be said that anything +which the moving-picture producers brought in was responsible.</p> + +<p>Throughout the rest of the world one may thumb his nose as a gesture of +scorn and contempt, but in Pennsylvania this becomes a public menace not +to be tolerated. "Reel Two"—we find in the records of the Board of +Censors—"eliminate view of man thumbing his nose at lion."</p> + +<p>As a matter of fact, no rule of censorship of any sort may be framed so +wisely that by and by some circumstance will not arise under which it +may be turned to an absurd use. Any censors must have rules. No man can +continue to make decisions all day long. He must eventually fall back +upon the bulwark of printed instructions. I observed an instance of this +sort during the war. A rule was passed forbidding the mention of any +arrivals from America in France. An American captain who had brought his +wife to France ran into this regulation when he attempted to cable home +to his parents the news that he had become the proud parent of a son. +"Charles Jr. arrived to-day. Weight eight pounds. Everything fine," he +wrote on the cable blank, only to have it<a name="page_218" id="page_218"></a> turned back to him with the +information: "We're not allowed to pass any messages about arrivals."</p> + +<p>It is almost as difficult for babies to arrive in motion-picture +stories. Any suggestion which would tend to weaken the faith of any one +in storks or cabbage leaves is generally frowned upon. For a time +picture producers felt that they had discovered a safe device which +would inform adults and create no impression in the minds of younger +patrons, and pictures were filled with mothers knitting baby clothes. +This has now been ruled out as quite too shocking. "Eliminate scene +showing Bobby holding up baby's sock," the Pennsylvania body has ruled, +"and scene showing Bobby standing with wife kissing baby's sock." In +fact, there is nothing at all to be done except to make all screen +babies so many Topsies who never were born at all. Even such a simple +sentence as "And Julia Duane faced the most sacred duties of a woman's +life alone" was barred.</p> + +<p>Like poor Julia Duane, the moving-picture producers have one problem +which they must face alone. They are confronted with difficulties +unknown to the publisher of books and the producer of plays. The movie +man must frame a story which will interest grown-ups and at the same +time contain nothing which will disturb the innocence of the youngest +child in the audience. At any rate, that is the task to which he is held +by most censorship boards. The publisher of a novel knows that there are +certain things which he may not permit to reach print without being +liable to prosecution, but at the same time he knows that he is +perfectly safe in allowing many things in his book<a name="page_219" id="page_219"></a> which are not +suitable for a four-year-old-child. There is no prospect that the +four-year-old child will read it. Just so when a manager undertakes a +production of Ibsen's "Ghosts" it never enters into his head just what +its effect will be on little boys of three. But these same youngsters +will be at the picture house, and the standards of what is suitable for +them must be standards of all the others. There should, of course, be +some way of grading movie houses. There should be theaters for children +under fourteen, others with subjects suitable for spectators from +fourteen to sixty, and then small select theaters for those more than +sixty in which caution might be thrown to the winds.</p> + +<p>Another of the difficulties of the unfortunate moving-picture producer +is the fact that censorship bodies in various parts of the country have +a faculty of seldom hitting on the same thing as objectionable. There +is, of course, a National Association of the Motion Picture Industry +which maintains its own censorship through which 92 per cent of all the +pictures exhibited in America are passed, but in addition to that +Pennsylvania, Ohio, Kansas, and Maryland have State censorship boards, +and there are numerous local bodies as well. Cecil B. De Mille +complained, shortly after his version of Geraldine Farrar in "Carmen" +was launched, that at that time there were approximately thirty-five +censorship organizations in the United States. These included various +State and municipal boards. Every one of these thirty-odd organizations +censored "Carmen." No two boards censored the same thing. In other +words, what was<a name="page_220" id="page_220"></a> morally acceptable to New York was highly immoral in +Pennsylvania. What Pennsylvania might see with impunity was considered +dangerous to the citizens of an adjoining State.</p> + +<p>Of course the question at issue is whether the potential immoral picture +shall first be shown at the producer's or the exhibitor's risk, or +whether censorship shall come first before there has been any public +showing. The contention is made by some of the moving-picture people +that they should have the same freedom given to people who deal in print +to publish first and take the consequences later if any statute has been +violated. The right to free speech, in fact, has been invoked in favor +of the motion picture as a medium of expression. This view had the +support of the late Mayor Gaynor, an excellent jurist, but apparently it +is not the view held by various State courts which have passed upon the +constitutionality of censorship laws. When the aldermen of New York City +passed an ordinance providing for the censorship of movies Mayor Gaynor +wrote: "If this ordinance is legal, then a similar ordinance in respect +of the newspapers and the theaters generally would be legal. Once revive +the censorship and there is no telling how far we may carry it."</p> + +<p>No matter what the law, the real basis of censorship is the public +itself. Persons who feel that tighter lines of censorship must be drawn +and new bodies established go on the theory that there is a great demand +for the salacious moving-picture show. But there is no continuing appeal +in dirt in the theater. It does not permanently sell the biggest of the +magazines<a name="page_221" id="page_221"></a> or the newspapers. And naturally it is not a paying commodity +to the moving-picture men. The best that the censor can do is to guess +what will be offensive to the general public. The general public can be +much more accurate in its reactions. It knows. And it is prepared to +stay away from the dirty show in droves.<a name="page_222" id="page_222"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="XLII" id="XLII"></a>XLII<br /><br /> +CENSORING THE CENSOR</h3> + +<p>Mice and canaries were sometimes employed in France to detect the +presence of gas. When these little things began to die in their cages +the soldiers knew that the air had become dangerous. Some such system +should be devised for censorship to make it practical. Even with the +weight of authority behind him no bland person, with virtue obviously +unruffled, is altogether convincing when he announces that the book he +has just read or the moving picture he has seen is so hideously immoral +that it constitutes a danger to the community. For my part I always feel +that if he can stand it so can I. To the best of my knowledge and +belief, Mr. Sumner was not swayed from his usual course of life by so +much as a single peccadillo for all of <i>Jurgen</i>. His indignation was +altogether altruistic. He feared for the fate of weaker men and women.</p> + +<p>Every theatrical manager, every motion picture producer, and every +publisher knows, to his sorrow, that the business of estimating the +effect of any piece of imaginative work upon others is precarious and +uncertain. Genius would be required to predict accurately the reaction +of the general public to any set piece which seems immoral to the +censor. For<a name="page_223" id="page_223"></a> instance, why was Mr. Sumner so certain that <i>Jurgen</i>, +which inspired him with horror and loathing, would prove a persuasive +temptation to all the rest of the world? Censorship is serious and +drastic business; it should never rest merely upon guesswork and more +particularly not upon the guesses of men so staunch in morals that they +are obviously of distant kin to the rest of humanity.</p> + +<p>The censor should be a person of a type capable of being blasted for the +sins of the people. His job can be elevated to dignity only when the +world realizes that he runs horrid risks. If we should choose our +censors from fallible folk we might have proof instead of opinions. +Suppose the censor of Jurgen had been some one other than Mr. Sumner, +some one so unlike the head of the vice society that after reading Mr. +Cabell's book he had come out of his room, not quivering with rage, but +leering and wearing vine leaves. In such case the rest would be easy. It +would merely be necessary to shadow the censor until he met his first +dryad. His wink would be sufficient evidence and might serve as a cue +for the rescuers to rush forward and save him. Of course there would +then be no necessity for legal proceedings in regard to the book. Expert +testimony as to its possible effects would be irrelevant. We would know +and we could all join cheerfully in the bonfire.</p> + +<p>To my mind there are three possible positions which may logically be +taken concerning censorship. It might be entrusted to the wisest man in +the world, to a series of average men,—or be abolished. Unfortunately<a name="page_224" id="page_224"></a> +it has been our experience that there is a distinct affinity between +fools and censorship. It seems to be one of those treading grounds where +they rush in. To be sure, we ought to admit a prejudice at the outset +and acknowledge that we were a reporter in France during the war at a +time when censors seemed a little more ridiculous than usual. We still +remember the young American lieutenant who held up a story of a boxing +match in Saint-Nazaire because the reporter wrote, "In the fourth round +MacBeth landed a nice right on the Irishman's nose and the claret began +to flow." "I'm sorry," said the censor, "but we have strict orders from +Major Palmer that no mention of wine or liquor is to be allowed in any +story about the American army."</p> + +<p>Nor have we forgotten the story of General Petain's mustache. "Why," +asked Junius Wood of the <i>Globe</i>, "have you held up my story? All the +rest have gone."</p> + +<p>"Unfortunately," answered the courteous Frenchman, "you have twice used +the expression General Petain's 'white mustache.' I might stretch a +point and let you say 'gray mustache,' but I should much prefer to have +you say 'blond mustache.'"</p> + +<p>"Oh, make it green with purple spots," said Junius.</p> + +<p>The use of average men in censorship would necessitate sacrifices to the +persuasive seduction of immorality, as I have suggested, and moreover +there are very few average men. Accordingly, I am prepared to abandon +that plan of censorship. The wisest man in the world is too old and too +busy with his plays and has announced that he will never come<a name="page_225" id="page_225"></a> to +America. Accordingly we venture to suggest that in time of peace we try +to get along without any censorship of plays or books or moving +pictures. I have no desire, of course, to leave Mr. Sumner +unemployed—it would perhaps be only fair to allow him to slosh around +among the picture post cards.</p> + +<p>Once official censorship had been officially abolished, a strong and +able censorship would immediately arise consisting of the playgoing and +reading public. It is a rather offensive error to assume that the vast +majority of folk in America are rarin' to get to dirty books and dirty +plays. It is the experience of New York managers that the run of the +merely salacious play is generally short. The success which a few nasty +books have had has been largely because of the fact that they came close +to the line of things which are forbidden. Without the prohibition there +would be little popularity.</p> + +<p>To save myself from the charge of hypocrisy I should add that personally +I believe there ought to be a certain amount of what we now know as +immoral writing. It would do no harm in a community brought up to take +it or let it alone. It is well enough for the reading public and the +critic to use terms such as moral or immoral, but they hardly belong in +the vocabulary of an artist. I have heard it said that before Lucifer +left Heaven there were no such things as virtues and vices. The world +was equipped with a certain number of traits which were qualities +without distinction or shame. But when Lucifer and the heavenly hosts +drifted into their eternal warfare it was agreed that each side should +recruit an<a name="page_226" id="page_226"></a> equal number of these human, and at that time unclassified, +qualities. A coin was tossed and, whether by fair chance or sharp +miracle, Heaven won.</p> + +<p>"I choose Blessedness," said the Captain of the Angels. It should be +explained that the selection was made without previous medical +examination, and Blessedness seemed at that time a much more robust +recruit than he has since turned out to be. A tendency to flat foot is +always hard to detect.</p> + +<p>"Give me Beauty," said Lucifer, and from that day to this the artists of +the world have been divided into two camps—those who wished to achieve +beauty and those who wished to achieve blessedness, those who wanted to +make the world better and those who were indifferent to its salvation if +they could only succeed in making it a little more personable.</p> + +<p>However, the conflict is not quite so simple as that. Late in the +afternoon when the Captain of the Angels had picked Unselfishness and +Moderation and Faith and Hope and Abstinence, and Lucifer had called to +his side Pride and Gluttony and Anger and Lust and Tactlessness, there +remained only two more qualities to be apportioned to the contending +sides. One of them was Sloth, who was obviously overweight, and the +other was a furtive little fellow with his cap down over his eyes.</p> + +<p>"What's your name?" said the Captain of the Angels.</p> + +<p>"Truth," stammered the little fellow.</p> + +<p>"Speak up," said the Captain of the Angels so sharply that Lucifer +remonstrated, saying, "Hold on there; Anger's on my side."<a name="page_227" id="page_227"></a></p> + +<p>"Truth," said the little fellow again but with the same somewhat +indistinct utterance which has always been so puzzling to the world.</p> + +<p>"I don't understand you," said the Captain of the Angels, "but if it's +between you and Sloth I'll take a chance with you. Stop at the locker +room and get your harp and halo."</p> + +<p>Now to-day even Lucifer will admit, if you get him in a corner, that +Truth is the mightiest warrior of them all. The only trouble is his +truancy. Sometimes he can't be found for centuries. Then he will bob up +unexpectedly, break a few heads, and skip away. Nothing can stand +against him. Lucifer's best ally, Beauty, is no match for him. Truth +holds every decision. But the trouble is that he still keeps his cap +down over his eyes, and he still mumbles his words, and nobody knows him +until he is at least fifty years away and moving fast. At that distance +he seems to grow bigger, and he invariably reaches into his back pocket +and puts on his halo so that people can recognize him. Still, when he +comes along the next time and is face to face with any man of this +world, the mortal is pretty sure to say, "Your face is familiar but I +can't seem to place you."</p> + +<p>There is no denying that he isn't a good mixer. But for that he would be +an excellent censor.</p> + +<p> +<br /> +<br /> +</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="" +style="border:2px solid gray;padding:2%;"> +<tr><td align="center">Etext transcriber's note:</td></tr> +<tr><td align="center">The following changes have been made from the original text:</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Frudian=>Freudian</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">too old and two busy=>too old and too busy</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Minnegerode=>Minnigerode [Meade Minnigerode (1887-1967)]</td></tr> +</table> + +<hr class="full" /> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Pieces of Hate, by Heywood Broun + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PIECES OF HATE *** + +***** This file should be named 35679-h.htm or 35679-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/5/6/7/35679/ + +Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Pieces of Hate + And Other Enthusiasms + +Author: Heywood Broun + +Release Date: March 26, 2011 [EBook #35679] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PIECES OF HATE *** + + + + +Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + + + + + + + + +PIECES OF HATE + +HEYWOOD BROUN + + + + +PIECES OF HATE + +_And Other Enthusiasms_ + +BY HEYWOOD BROUN + +[Illustration: colophon] + +GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY +PUBLISHERS 1922 NEW YORK + +COPYRIGHT, 1922 +BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY + +[Illustration: colophon] + +PIECES OF HATE. +PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA + + +TO MY FATHER +HEYWOOD C. BROUN + + + + +PREFACE + + +The trouble with prefaces is that they are partial and so we have +decided to offer instead an unbiased review of "Pieces of Hate." The +publishers have kindly furnished us advance proofs for this purpose. + +We wish we could speak with unreserved enthusiasm about this book. It +would be pleasant to make out a list of three essential volumes for +humanity and suggest the complete works of William Shakespeare, the +Bible and "Pieces of Hate," but Mr. Broun's book does not deserve any +such ranking. Speaking as a critic of books, we are not at all sure that +we care to recommend it. It seems to us that the author is honest, but +the value of that quality has been vastly overstressed in present-day +reviewing. We are inclined to say "What of it?" There would be nothing +particularly persuasive if a man should approach a poker game and say, +"Won't you let Broun in; I can assure he's honest." Why should a +recommendation which is taken for granted among common gamblers be +considered flattering when applied to a writer? + +Anyhow, it does not seem to us that Broun carries honesty to excess. +There is every indication that most of the work in "Pieces of Hate" has +been done so hurriedly that there has been no opportunity for a recount. +If it balances at any given point luck must be with him as well as +virtue. All the vices of haste are in this book of stories, critical +essays and what not. The author is not content to stalk down an idea and +salt it. Whenever he sees what he believes to be a notion he leaves his +feet and tries to bring it down with a flying tackle. Occasionally there +actually is an exciting and interesting crash of flying bodies coming +into contact. But just as often Mr. Broun misses his mark and falls on +his face. At other times he gets the object of his dive only to find +that it was not a genuine idea after all, but only a straw man, a sort +of tackling dummy set up to fool and educate novices. + +And Broun does not learn fast. Like most newspaper persons he is an +extraordinary mixture of sophistication and naivete. At one moment he +will be found belaboring a novelist or a dramatist for sentimentality +and on the next page there will be distinct traces of treacle in his own +creative work. Seemingly, what he means when he says that he does not +like sentimentality is that he doesn't like the sentimentality of +anybody else. He would restrict the quality to the same narrow field as +charity. + +The various forms introduced into the book are a little confusing. +Seemingly there has been no plan as to the sequence of stories, essays, +dramatic criticism and the rest. Possibly the author regards this as +versatility, but here is another vastly overrated quality. We once had a +close friend who was a magician and after we had watched him take an +omelet out of his high hat, and two white rabbits, and a bowl of +goldfish, it always made us a little uneasy when he said, "Wait a +minute until I put on my hat and I'll walk home with you." + +The fear constantly lurked in our mind that he might suddenly remember, +in the middle of Times Square, that he had forgotten a trick and be +compelled to pause and take a boa-constrictor from under the sweat-band. +We suggest to Mr. Broun that he make up his mind as to just what he +intends to do and then stick to it to the exclusion of all sidelines. + +Perhaps he has promised, but we are prepared to wager nothing on him +until we are convinced that he has begun to drive for something. He may +be a young man but he is not so young that he can afford to traffic any +further with flipness under the impression that it is something just as +good as humor. And we wish he wouldn't pun. George H. Doran, the +publisher, informs us that he had to plead with Broun to make him leave +out a chapter on the ugliness of heirlooms and particularly old sofas. +Apparently the piece was written for no other purpose than to carry the +title "The Chintz of the Fathers." + +We also find Mr. Broun's pose as the professional Harvard man a little +bit trying, particularly as expressed in his essay "The Bigger the +Year." We suppose he may be expected to outgrow this in time but he has +been long enough about it. + +HEYWOOD BROUN. + + Some of these articles have appeared in the _New York World_, the + _New York Tribune_, _Vanity Fair_, _Collier's Weekly_, _The + Bookman_ and _Judge_, and acknowledgment is made to these + publications for permission to reprint. + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAPTER PAGE + + I THE NOT IMPOSSIBLE SHEIK 17 + + II JOHN ROACH STRATON 23 + + III PRIVATE OWNERSHIP OF OFFSPRING 26 + + IV G. K. C. 30 + + V ON BEING A GOD 35 + + VI CHIVALRY IS BORN 40 + + VII RUTH VS. ROTH 45 + + VIII THE BIGGER THE YEAR 49 + + IX FOR OLD NASSAU 54 + + X MR. DEMPSEY'S FIVE-FOOT SHELF 58 + + XI SPORT FOR ART'S SAKE 64 + + XII JACK THE GIANT KILLER 70 + + XIII JUDGE KRINK 76 + + XIV FRANKINCENSE AND MYRRH 79 + + XV THE EXCELSIOR MOVEMENT 82 + + XVI THE DOG STAR 86 + + XVII ALTRUISTIC POKER 90 + + XVIII THE WELL MADE REVUE 92 + + XIX AN ADJECTIVE A DAY 96 + + XX THE UNKNOWN SOLDIER 99 + + XXI A TORTOISE SHELL HOME 101 + + XXII I'D DIE FOR DEAR OLD RUTGERS 106 + + XXIII ARE EDITORS PEOPLE? 111 + + XXIV WE HAVE WITH US THIS EVENING-- 116 + + XXV THE YOUNG PESSIMISTS 124 + + XXVI GLASS SLIPPERS BY THE GROSS 180 + + XXVII A MODERN BEANSTALK 134 + + XXVIII VOLSTEAD AND CONVERSATION 137 + + XXIX LIFE, THE COPY CAT 143 + + XXX THE ORTHODOX CHAMPION 149 + + XXXI WITH A STEIN ON THE TABLE 153 + + XXXII ART FOR ARGUMENT'S SAKE 159 + + XXXIII NO RAHS FOR RAY 165 + + XXXIV "AT ABOY!" 170 + + XXXV HOW TO WIN MONEY AT THE RACES 174 + + XXXVI ONE TOUCH OF SLAPSTICK 178 + + XXXVII DANGER SIGNALS FOR READERS 183 + +XXXVIII ADVENTURE MADE PAINLESS 188 + + XXXIX THE TALL VILLA 197 + + XL PROFESSOR GEORGE PIERCE BAKER 202 + + XLI WHAT SHAKESPEARE MISSED 207 + + XLII CENSORING THE CENSOR 222 + + + + +PIECES OF HATE + + + + +I + +THE NOT IMPOSSIBLE SHEIK + + +Women must be peculiar people, if that. We have just finished "The +Sheik," which is described on the jacket as possessing "ALL the intense +passion and tender feeling of the most vivid love stories, almost brutal +in its revelations." + +Naturally, we read it. The author is English and named E. M. Hull. The +publishers expand the "E" to Ethel, but we have a theory of our own. At +any rate the novelist displays an extraordinary knowledge of feminine +psychology. It is profound. It is also a little disturbing because it +sounds so silly. After all, whether peculiar or not women are round +about us almost everywhere, and we must make the best of them. +Accordingly, it terrifies us to learn that if by any chance whatsoever +we happen to hit one of them and knock her down she will become devoted +to us forever. The man who knows this will think twice before he strikes +a woman no matter what the provocation. He will be inclined to count ten +before letting a blow go instead of after. Miss Hull's book deserves the +widest possible circulation because of its persuasive propaganda for +forebearance on the part of men in their dealings with women. + +Seemingly, there are no exceptions to the rules about women laid down by +Miss Hull. To state her theory concisely, the quickest way to reach a +woman's heart is a right hook to the jaw. To take a specific instance, +there was Miss Diana Mayo. She seemed an exception to the rule if ever a +woman did. "My God, Diana! Beauty like yours drives a man mad!" said +Arbuthnot, the young British lieutenant, in the moonlight at Biskra. +More than that, "He whispered ardently, his hands closing over the slim +ones lying in her lap." Those were her own. + +Still, Diana was no miss to take a hint. With a strength that seemed +impossible for their slimness she disengaged her hands from his grasp. +"Please stop. I am sorry. We have been good friends, and it has never +occurred to me that there could be anything beyond that. I never thought +that you might love me. I never thought of you in that way at all. I +don't understand it. When God made me he omitted to give me a heart. I +have never loved any one in my life." + +That was before Miss Diana Mayo went into the desert and met the Sheik +Ahmed Ben Hassan. The meeting was unconventional. Ahmed sacked the +caravan and kidnapped Diana, seizing her off her horse's back at full +gallop. "His movement had been so quick she was unprepared and unable to +resist. For a moment she was stunned, then her senses came back to her +and she struggled wildly, but stifled in the thick folds of the Arab's +robes, against which her face was crushed, and held in a grip that +seemed to be slowly suffocating her, her struggles were futile. The +hard, muscular arm around her hurt her acutely, her ribs seemed to be +almost breaking under its weight and strength, it was nearly impossible +to breathe with the close contact of his body." + +But Diana did not love him yet. She seems to have been less susceptible +than most girls. Even when "her whole body was one agonized ache from +the brutal hands" she persisted in not caring for Ahmed Ben Hassan. It +almost seemed as if she had taken a dislike to the man. Up to this time +she had not learned to make allowances for him. It was much later than +this that "She looked at the marks of his fingers on the delicate skin +with a twist of the lips, then shut her eyes with a little gasp and hid +her bruised arm hastily, her mouth quivering. But she did not blame him; +she had brought it on herself; she knew his mood and he did not know his +own strength." + +Diana's realization that she loved the Sheik Ahmed Ben Hassan and had +loved him for some time came under sudden and dramatic circumstances. +She was running away from him at the time and he was riding after her. +Standing up in the stirrups, the Sheik shot the horse from under her and +"Diana was flung far forward and landed on some soft sand." But even yet +her blindness to the whispering of love persisted. She thought she hated +Ahmed, but dawn was about to break in her starved heart. "He caught her +wrist and flung her out of the way," yet it was not until he had lifted +her up on the saddle in front of him, using his favorite hold--a half +nelson and body scissors--that the punishing nature of the familiar grip +roused Diana to an understanding of her great good fortune. "Quite +suddenly she knew--knew that she loved him, that she had loved him for a +long time, even when she thought that she hated him and when she had +fled from him. She knew now why his face had haunted her in the little +oasis at midday--that it was love calling to her sub-consciously." And +all the time poor, foolish Diana had imagined that it was arnica which +she wanted. + +Even after Ben Hassan had succeeded in impressing Diana with his +affection, we feared that the story would not end happily. While riding +some miles away from their own carefully restricted oasis Diana was +captured by another Arab chief named Ibraheim Omair. It seemed to us +that he was in his way just as persuasive a wooer as Ben Hassan. We +read, "He forced her to her knees, and, with his hand twined brutally in +her curls, thrust her head back," and later, "She realized that he was +squeezing the life out of her." Worst of all from the point of view of a +Ben Hassan partisan (and by this time we too had learned to love him) +was the moment in which Omair dashed his hand against Diana's mouth, for +the author records that "She caught it in her teeth, biting it to the +bone." We feared, then, that Diana's heart was turning to this new and +wondrously rowdy Arab. Already it was quite evident that she was not +indifferent to him. Fortunately Ahmed came in time to shoot Omair before +Diana's Unconscious could flash to her any realization of a new love. + +And the book does end happily, even more happily than anybody has a +right to expect. Ahmed is badly wounded but only in the head, and +recovers without any impairment of his punching power. The greatest +surprise of all is reserved for the last chapter, when Diana and the +reader learn that Ben isn't really an Arab at all, but the eldest son of +Lord Glencaryll, and of Lady Glencaryll, too, for that matter. It seems +Lord Glencaryll drank excessively, although his title was one of the +oldest in England. Lady Glencaryll left him on account of his alcoholism +and went to the Sahara desert for rest and contrast. A courtly sheik +gave her shelter in his oasis. Here her son was born, and when he heard +about his father's disgraceful conduct he turned Arab and stayed that +way. Of course, if he had intended nothing more than a protest against +overindulgence in alcoholic liquors he could have turned American. We +suppose such a device would not have seemed altogether plausible. No +Englishman could pass for an American. Nor can we say that we are +altogether satisfied with the ending even as it stands. For all we know +E. M. Hull may decide to take a shot at Uncle Tom's Cabin and add a +chapter revealing the fact that Uncle Tom was not actually a colored man +but the child of a couple of Caucasians who had happened to get a little +sunburned. We are not even sure that E. M. Hull is a woman. Publishers +do get fooled about such things. According to our theory, the E stands +for Egbert. He is, we think, at least five feet four inches tall and +lives in Bloomsbury, in very respectable bachelor diggings. He has never +been to the desert or near it, but if "The Sheik" continues to run +through new editions he plans to take a jaunt to the East. He thinks it +might help his hay fever. + + + + +II + +JOHN ROACH STRATON + + +In the course of his Sabbath day talk at Calvary Baptist Church the +other day the Rev. Dr. John Roach Straton spoke of "miserable Charlie +Chaplin," or words to that effect. This seems to us an expression of the +more or less natural antipathy of a man who regards life trivially for a +serious artist. It is the venom of the clown confronted by the comedian. + +Dr. Straton is, of course, an utter materialist. He is concerned with +such temporal and evanescent things as hellfire, and a heaven which he +has pictured in one of his sermons as a sort of glorified Coney Island. +Moreover, he has created a deity in his own image and has presented the +invisible king as merely a somewhat more mannerly John Roach Straton. +And while Dr. Straton has been thus engaged in debasing the ideals of +mankind, Charlie Chaplin has brought to great masses of people some +glint of things which are eternal. He has managed to show us beauty and, +better than that, he has contrived to put us at ease in this presence. +We belong to a Nation which is timorous of beauty, but Charlie has +managed to soothe our fears by proving to us that it may also be merry. + +While Straton has been talking about jazz, debauchery, modesty, +vengeance and other ugly things, Chaplin has given us the story of a +child. "The Kid" captured a little of that curiously exalted something +which belongs to paternity. All spiritual things must have in them a +childlike quality. The belief in immortality rests not very much on the +hope of going on. Few of us want to do that, but we would like very much +to begin again. + +Naturally, we are under no delusions as to the innate goodness even of +very small children. They are bad a great deal of the time, but before +it has been knocked out of them they see no limit to the potentialities +of the human will. Theirs is the faith to move mountains, because they +do not yet know the fearful heft of them. The world is merely a rather +big sandpile and much may be done to it with a tin pail and shovel. We +would capture such confidence again. + +As a matter of fact, a great deal could be done with a pail and shovel. +We do not try because we have lost our nerve. Nobody will ever get it +back again by listening to Dr. Straton. He seems solely intent upon +detailing the limitations and the frailties of man. We think he has +outgrown his soul a little. He has sold his birthright for a mess of +potterism. + +But Charlie Chaplin moves through the world which he pictures on the +screen like a mischievous child. He confounds all the gross villains who +come against him. His smile is a token and a symbol that man is too +merry to die utterly. Fearful things menace us, but they will flee +before the audacious one who has the fervor to draw back his foot and +let it fly. + +Of course, we are not advocating any suppression of Dr. Straton by +censorship. We regard him and his sermons as a bad influence. But after +all, the man or woman who strays into Dr. Straton's church knows what to +expect. In justice to the clergyman it must be said that he has never +made any secret of his methods or his message. There is no deception. +Sentimentally, we think it rather shocking that these talks of his +should occur on Sunday. There really ought to be one day of the week +upon which the citizens of New York turn away from frivolity. And still +we do not urge that the Sunday Law be amended to include the +performances of John Roach Straton. He is not one whit worse than some +of the sensational Sunday magazines. + + + + +III + +PRIVATE OWNERSHIP OF OFFSPRING + + +Fannie Hurst gurgles with joy over the fact that her heroine in "Star +Dust" is able to look over the whole tray of babies which is brought to +her in the hospital and pick out her own. Miss Hurst attributes Lily's +feat to "her mother instinct." A friend of ours, more practically minded +than the novelist, suggests that she might have been aided by the fact +that hospitals invariably place an identification tag around the neck of +each child. For our part we have never been able to understand the fear +of some parents about babies getting mixed up in the hospital. What +difference does it make so long as you get a good one? Another's may be +better than your own and Lily, with a whole tray from which to choose, +should not have made an instinctive clutch immediately for her own. It +would have been rational for the lady in the story to have looked at +them all before coming to any decision. + +Of course, to tell the truth, there isn't much choice in the little +ones. They need much more than necklaces with names on them to be +persons. There really ought to be some system whereby small children +after being born could be kept in the shop for a considerable period, +like puppies, and not turned over to parents or guardians until in a +condition more disciplined than usual. None of them amounts to much +during the first year. We can't see, for the life of us, why your own +should be any more interesting or precious to you during this time than +the child of anybody else. + +After two, of course, they are persons, but a parent must have a good +deal of imagination if he can see much of himself in a child. Oh, yes, a +nose or the eyes or the color of the hair or something like that, but +the world is full of snub noses and brown eyes. To us it never seemed +much more than a coincidence. And if it were something more, what of it? +How can a man work up any inspiring sentimental gratification over the +fact that after he is gone his nose will persist in the world? The hope +of immortality through offspring offers no solace to us. The joys of +being an ancestor are exaggerated. + +Mind you, we do not mean for a moment to cry down the undeniable +pleasure which arises from the privilege of being associated with a +child of more than two years of age. For a person in rugged health who +is not particularly dressed up and does not want to write a letter or +read the newspaper, we can imagine few diversions more enjoyable than to +have a child turned loose upon him. His own, if you wish, but only in +the sense that it is the one to which he has become accustomed. The +sense of paternity has nothing on earth to do with the fun. Only a +person extraordinarily satisfied with himself can derive pleasure if +this child in his house is a little person who gives him back nothing +but a reflection. You want a new story and not the old one, which wasn't +particularly satisfactory in the first place. We want Heywood Broun, +3rd, to start from scratch without having to lug along anything we have +left him. As a matter of fact, we like him just as well as if he were no +relation at all, because he seems to be a person quite different from +what we might have expected. When he says he doesn't want to take a bath +we feel abashed and wish we had been a cleaner child, but for the most +part we find him leading his own life altogether. When he bends over the +Victrola and plays the Siegfried Funeral March over and over again we +have no feeling of guilt. We know we can't be blamed for that. He never +got it from us. + +And again, he is a person utterly strange, and therefore twice as +interesting, when we find him standing up to people, us for instance, +and saying that he won't do this or that because he doesn't want to. +Much sharper than a serpent's tooth is the pleasure of an abject parent +who finds himself the father of a stubborn child. If the people from the +hospital should suddenly call up to-morrow and say, "We find we've made +a mistake. We sent the wrong child to you three years ago, but now we +can exchange him and rectify everything," we would say, "No, this one's +been around quite a while now and is giving approximate satisfaction, +and if you don't mind you can keep the real one." + +Plays and novels which picture meetings between fathers and sons parted +from birth or before have always seemed singularly unconvincing to us. +The old man says "My boy! My boy!" and weeps, and the young man looks +him warmly in the eye and says, "There, there." Not a bit like it is our +guess. If we had never seen H, 3rd, and had then met him at the end of +twenty years, we wouldn't be particularly interested. Strangers always +embarrass us. It would not even shock us much to find that they had sent +him to Yale or that he brushed his hair straight back or wore spats. +There are to us no ties at all just in being a father. A son is +distinctly an acquired taste. It's the practice of parenthood that makes +you feel that, after all, there may be something in it. And anybody's +child will do for practice. + + + + +IV + +G. K. C. + + +The ship news man said that Gilbert K. Chesterton was staying at the +Commodore and the telephone girl said he wasn't, but we'd trust even a +ship news man before a hotel central and so we persisted. + +In fact, we almost persuaded her. + +"Maybe he's connected with one of the automobile companies that are +exhibiting here," she suggested, helpfully. For a moment we wondered if +by any chance the hotel authorities had made an error and placed him in +the lobby with the ten-ton trucks. It seemed too fantastic. + +"He's not with any automobile company," we said severely. "Didn't you +ever hear of 'The Man Who Was Thursday'?" + +"He may have been here Thursday, but he's not registered now," she +answered with some assurance. We didn't seem to be getting on. "It's a +book," we shouted. "He wrote it." + +"Not in this hotel," said central with an air of finality and rang off +before we could try her out on "Man Alive" or "The Ball and the Cross." +Still, it turned out eventually that she was right for it was the +Biltmore which at last acknowledged Mr. Chesterton somewhat reluctantly +after we had spelled out the name. + +"Not in his room, but somewhere about the hotel," was the message. + +"You can find him," said the city editor with confidence. "Just take +this picture with you. He's sort of fat and he speaks with an English +accent." + +We had a more helpful description than that in our mind, because we +remembered Chesterton's answer when a sweet girl admirer once remarked, +"It must be wonderful to walk along the streets when everybody knows who +you are." + +"Yes," said Chesterton; "and if they don't know they ask." + +He wasn't in the bar, but we found him in the smoking room. He was +giving somebody an interview without much enthusiasm. It seemed to be +the last round. Chesterton was beginning to droop. Every paradox, we +feared, had been hammered out of him. He rose a little wearily and +started for the elevator. We chased him. At last we had the satisfaction +of finding some one we could outrun. He paused, and now we know the look +which the Wedding Guest must have given to the Ancient Mariner. + +"It's for the New York _Tribune_," we said. + +"How about next week?" suggested Mr. Chesterton. + +"It's a daily newspaper," we remonstrated. "You know--Grantland Rice and +The Conning Tower and When a Feller Needs a Friend." + +Something in the title of the Briggs series must have touched him. +"To-morrow, perhaps," he answered. Feeling that the mountain was about +to come through we stood our ground like another Mahomet. Better than +that we rose to one of the few superb moments in our life. Looking at +Mr. Chesterton coldly we said slowly, "It must be now or never." And we +used a gesture. The nature of it escapes us, but it was something +appropriate. Later we wondered just what reply would have been possible +if he had answered, "Never." After the danger had passed we realized +that we had been holding up the visitor with an empty gun. It must have +been our manner which awed him and he stopped walking and almost turned +around. + +"The press men have been here since two o'clock," he complained more in +sorrow than in anger. "What is it you want to know?" + +At that stage of the interview the advantage passed to him. The whole +world lay before us. Dimly we could hear the problems of a great and +unhappy universe flapping in our ears and urging us with unintelligible, +hoarse caws to present their cases for solution. And still we stood +there unable to think of a single thing which we wanted to know. + +Mostly we had read Chesterton on rum and religion, but there were too +many people passing to give the proper atmosphere for any such +confidential questions. Moreover, if he should question us in turn we +realized that we would be unable to give him any information as to when +to boil and when to skim, nor did we feel sufficiently well disposed to +let him in on the name of the drug store where you say "I'm a patient of +Dr. Brown's" and are forthwith allowed to buy gin. + +All the questions we had ever asked anybody in our life passed rapidly +before us. "What do you think of our tall buildings?" "Have you ever +thought of playing Hamlet?" "Why are you called the woman with the most +beautiful legs in Paris?" We remembered that the last had seemed silly +even when we first used it on Mistinguett. On second thought we had told +the interpreter to let it drop because the photographers were anxious to +begin. There seemed to be even less sense to it now. Indeed none of our +familiar inquiries struck us as appropriate. + +"What American authors do you read?" we ventured timidly, and added +"living ones" hoping to get something about "Main Street" for +Wednesday's book column. + +"I don't read any," he answered. + +That seemed to us a possible handicap in pursuing that line of inquiry. + +"I don't read any living English authors, either," Mr. Chesterton added +hastily, as if he feared that he had trod upon our patriotism. "Nothing +but dead authors and detective stories." + +That we had expected. In the march up to the heights of fame there comes +a spot close to the summit in which man reads "nothing but detective +stories." It is the Antaean touch which distinguishes all Olympians. As +you remember, Antaeus was the demigod who had to touch the earth every +once and so often to preserve his immortality. Probably he did it by +reading a good murder story. + +"Can you tell me what 'Mary Rose' is all about?" we suggested, still +fumbling for a literary theme. + +"I haven't seen 'Mary Rose,'" said Mr. Chesterton, although he did go on +to tell us that Barrie had done several excellent plays. Probably there +was a long pause then while we tried to think up something provocative +about the Irish question. + +"If you really will excuse me, I must go to my room," he burst out. "The +press men have been here ever since two o'clock." + +This, of course, is no land in which to stand between a man and his +room, where heaven knows what solace may await the distinguished visitor +who has been spending two and a half hours with the press men. We +stepped aside willingly enough. Still, we must confess a slight +disappointment in Gilbert K. Chesterton. He's not as fat as we had +heard. + + + + +V + +ON BEING A GOD + + +We have found a way to feel very close kin to the high gods. The notion +that we too leaned out from the gold bar of heaven came to us suddenly +as we sat in the right field bleachers of one of the big theaters which +provide a combination bill of vaudeville and motion pictures. The +process of deification occurred during the vaudeville portion of the +program. + +The stage was several miles away. We could see perfectly and hear +nothing as it was said. Curious little, insect-like people moved about +the stage aimlessly. And yet there was every evidence that they took +themselves seriously. You would be surprised if you watched ants +conducting a performance and calling for light cues and such things. It +would puzzle you to know why one particular ant took care to provide +himself with a flood of red and another just as arbitrarily chose green. + +Still, these were not ants but potentially men and women. They had +names--Kerrigan and Vane, the Kaufman Trio, Miss Minstrel Co. and many +others. From where we sat they were insects. It seemed to us that it +would be no trouble at all to flip the three strong men and the pony +ballet into oblivion with one finger. The little finger would be the +most suitable. + +And there were times when we wanted to do it. Only, the feeling that we +were too new a god to impose a doom restrained us. No divine patience +was in us, but we felt that if we could wait a while it might come. The +agitated atoms annoyed us. The audacity of "pony ballet" was almost +insufferable. Why, as in Gulliver's land, the biggest of the strong men +towered above the smallest of the ballet girls by at least the thickness +of a fingernail. And these performing ants were forever working to +entertain. They ran on and off the stage without apparent reason and +waved their antennae about furiously. Two of the ants would stand close +together as if in conversation, and every now and then one of them would +hit the other brutally in the face. + +We did not know why and our sympathies went entirely to the one who was +struck. It was difficult not to interfere. We rather think that some of +the seemingly extraordinary judgments of the high gods between mortals +must be explained on the ground of a somewhat similar imperfect +knowledge. They too see us, but they cannot hear. Time is required for +sound to reach Olympus. When we get into warfare they observe only the +carnage and the turmoil. The preliminary explanations arrive several +years after the peace treaties have been signed, and then they sound +silly and entirely irrelevant. + +Accordingly, the high gods are rather loath to interfere in the wars of +earth. They are too far removed to understand causes, and even +trumpet-like shouts about national honor merely amble up to their ears +through long lanes of retarding ether. Indeed, the period of transit is +so long that national honor invariably arrives at Olympus in poor +condition. Only when strictly fresh is it in the least inspiring. Little +old last century's national honor is quite unpalatable. It is food +neither for gods nor men. + +It was just as well that we waited before taking blind vengeance on the +vaudeville insects, because half an hour or so after the blows were +struck by the seemingly aggressive ant the conversation which preceded +the violence began to drift back to us. It came to our ears during the +turn of the strong men and created a rather uncanny effect. At first we +were puzzled because we had never known strong men to exchange any words +at all except the traditional "alleyup." Almost immediately we realized +that it was merely the tardiness of sound waves which caused the delay +of the dialogue in reaching us in our bleacher seat. + +Fortunately, in spite of our illusion of omnipotence, the distance from +the stage was not truly Olympian. The jokes came in time to be +appreciated. It seems that one of the ants, whom we shall immediately +christen A, told his friend and companion, B for convenience, that he +was taking two ladies to dinner and that he would like to have B in the +party, but that he, A, did not have sufficient funds to defray any +expense which he might incur. B admitted promptly that he himself had +nothing. Accordingly, A suggested a scheme for sociability's sake. He +urged B to come, but impressed upon him that when asked as to what he +wished to eat or drink he should reply, "I don't care for anything." + +In order to guard against a slip-up the friendly ants rehearsed the +scene in advance. It ran something like this: + +A--August! August! + +B--You're a little wrong on your months. This is January. + +A (punching him)--You fool! August is the name of the waiter. + +The delay which retarded the progress of this joke to our ears impaired +its effectiveness a little. The rest was more sprightly. + +A--August, bring some chicken en casserole and combination salad for +myself and the two ladies. Oh, I've forgotten my friend. What will you +have? + +B--Bring me some pigs' knuckles. + +At this point A hit B for the second time and again called him a fool. + +A--Why did you say, "Bring me some pigs' knuckles?" + +B--Why did you ask me so pretty? + +Thereupon they rehearsed the situation again. + +A--Oh, I've forgotten my friend. Won't you have something? You must join +us. + +B--Sure, bring me a dish of ham and eggs. + +Again blows were struck and again A inquired ferociously as to the cause +of the slip-up. + +A--What made you say, "Bring me a dish of ham and eggs?" + +B--Well, why did you go and coax me? + +Earlier in the evening we had observed that other blows were struck and +there must have been further dialogue to go with them, but we could not +wait for it to arrive. We rather hoped that the jokes would follow us +home, but they must have become lost on the way. + +Perhaps you don't think there was much sense to this talk anyway. + +Maybe the real gods on high Olympus feel the same way about us when our +words limp home. + + + + +VI + +CHIVALRY IS BORN + + +Every now and then we hear parents commenting on the fearful things +which motion pictures may do to the minds of children. They seem to +think that a little child is full of sweetness and of light. We had the +same notion until we had a chance to listen intently to the prattle of a +three-year-old. Now we know that no picture can possibly outdo him in +his own fictionized frightfulness. + +Of course, we had heard testimony to this effect from Freudians, but we +had supposed that all these horrible blood lusts and such like were +suppressed. Unfortunately, our own son is without reticence. We have a +notion that each individual goes through approximately the same stages +of progress as the race. Heywood Broun, 3d, seemed not yet quite as high +as the cavemen in his concepts. For the last few months he has been +harping continuously, and chiefly during meal times, about cutting off +people's noses and gouging out eyes. In his range of speculative +depredations he has invariably seemed liberal. + +There seemed to us, then, no reason to fear that new notions of horror +would come to Heywood Broun, 3d, from any of the pictures being licensed +at present in this State. As a matter of fact, he has received from the +films his first notions of chivalry. Of course, we are not at all sure +that this is beneficial. We like his sentimentalism a little worse than +his sadism. + +After seeing "Tol'able David," for instance, we had a long argument. +Since our experience with motion pictures is longer than his we often +feel reasonably certain that our interpretation of the happenings is +correct and we do not hesitate to contradict H. 3d, although he is so +positive that sometimes our confidence is shaken. We knew that he was +all wrong about "Tol'able David" because it was quite evident that he +had become mixed in his mind concerning the hero and the villain. He +kept insisting that David was a bad man because he fought. Pacifism has +always seemed to us an appealing philosophy, but it came with bad grace +from such a swashbuckling disciple of frightfulness as H. 3d. + +However, we did not develop that line of reasoning but contended that +David had to fight in order to protect himself. Woodie considered this +for a while and then answered triumphantly, "David hit a woman." + +Our disgust was unbounded. Film life had seared the child after all. +Actually, it was not David who hit the woman but the villainous Luke +Hatburn, the terrible mountaineer. That error in observation was not the +cause of our worry. The thing that bothered us was that here was a young +individual, not yet four years of age, who was already beginning to talk +in terms of "the weaker vessel" and all the other phrases of a romantic +school we believed to be dying. It could not have shocked us more if he +had said, "Woman's place is in the home." + +"David hit a woman," he piped again, seeming to sense our consternation. +"What of it?" we cried, but there was no bullying him out of his point +of view. The fault belongs entirely to the motion pictures. H. 3d cannot +truthfully say that he has had the slightest hint from us as to any sex +inferiority of women. By word and deed we have tried to set him quite +the opposite example. We have never allowed him to detect us for an +instant in any chivalrous act or piece of partial sex politeness. Toasts +such as "The ladies, God bless 'em" are not drunk in our house, nor has +Woodie ever heard "Shall we join the ladies," "the fair sex," "the +weaker sex," or any other piece of patronizing masculine poppycock. +Susan B. Anthony's picture hangs in his bedroom side by side with +Abraham Lincoln and the big elephant. He has led a sheltered life and +has never been allowed to play with nice children. + +But, somehow or other, chivalry and romanticism creep into each life +even through barred windows. We have no intention of being too hard upon +the motion pictures. Something else would have introduced it. These +phases belong in the development of the race. H. 3d must serve his time +as gentle knight just as he did his stint in the role of sadistic +caveman. Presently, we fear, he will get to the crusades and we shall +suffer during a period in which he will try to improve our manners. +History will then be our only consolation. We shall try to bear up +secure in the knowledge that the dark ages are still ahead of him. + +We hoped that the motion pictures might be used as an antidote against +the damage which they had done. We took H. 3d to see Nazimova in "A +Doll's House." There was a chance, we thought, that he might be moved by +the eloquent presentation of the fact that before all else a woman is a +human being and just as eligible to be hit as anybody else. We read him +the caption embodying Nora's defiance, but at the moment it flashed upon +the screen he had crawled under his seat to pick up an old program and +the words seemed to have no effect. Indeed when Nora went out into the +night, slamming the door behind her, he merely hazarded that she was +"going to Mr. Butler's." Mr. Butler happens to be our grocer. + +The misapprehension was not the fault of Nazimova. She flung herself out +of the house magnificently, but Heywood Broun, 3d, insisted on believing +that she had gone around the corner for a dozen eggs. + +In discussing the picture later, we found that he had quite missed the +point of Mr. Ibsen's play. Of Nora, the human being, he remembered +nothing. It was only Nora, the mother, who had impressed him. All he +could tell us about the great and stimulating play was that the lady had +crawled on the floor with her little boy and her little girl. And yet it +seems to us that Ibsen has told his story with singular clarity. + +D'Artagnan Woodie likes very much. He is fond of recalling to our mind +the fact that D'Artagnan "walked on the roof in his nightshirt." H. 3d +is not allowed on the roof nor is he permitted to wander about in his +nightshirt. + +Perhaps the child's introduction to the films has been somewhat too +haphazard. As we remember, the first picture which we saw together was +called "Is Life Worth Living?" The worst of it is that circumstances +made it necessary for us to leave before the end and so neither of us +found out the answer. + + + + +VII + +RUTH VS. ROTH + + +We picked up "Who's Who in America" yesterday to get some vital +statistics about Babe Ruth, and found to our surprise that he was not in +the book. Even as George Herman Ruth there is no mention of him. The +nearest name we could find was: "Roth, Filibert, forestry expert; b. +Wurttemberg, Germany, April 20, 1858; s. Paul Raphael and Amalie (Volz) +R., early edn. in Wurttemberg----" + +There is in our heart not an atom of malice against Prof. Roth (since +September, 1903, he has been "prof. forestry, U. Mich."), and yet we +question the justice of his admission to a list of national celebrities +while Ruth stands without. We know, of course, that Prof. Roth is the +author of "Forest Conditions in Wisconsin" and of "The Uses of Wood," +but we wonder whether he has been able to describe in words uses of wood +more sensational and vital than those which Ruth has shown in deeds. +Hereby we challenge the editor of "Who's Who in America" to debate the +affirmative side of the question: Resolved, That Prof. Roth's volume +called "Timber Physics" has exerted a more profound influence in the +life of America than Babe Ruth's 1921 home-run record. + +The question is, of course, merely a continuation of the ancient +controversy as to the relative importance of the theorist and the +practitioner; should history prefer in honor the man who first developed +the hypothesis that the world was round or the other who went out and +circumnavigated it? What do we owe to Ben Franklin and what to the +lightning? Shall we celebrate Newton or the apple? + +Personally, our sympathies go out to the performer rather than the +fellow in the study or the laboratory. Many scientists staked their +reputations on the fact that the world was round before Magellan set +sail in the _Vittoria_. He did not lack written assurances that there +was no truth in the old tale of a flat earth with dragons and monsters +lurking just beyond the edges. + +But suppose, in spite of all this, Magellan had gone on sailing, sailing +until his ship did topple over into the void of dragons and big snakes. +The professors would have been abashed. Undoubtedly they would have +tried to laugh the misfortune off, and they might even have been good +enough sports to say, "That's a fine joke on us." But at worst they +could lose nothing but their reputations, which can be made over again. +Magellan would not live to profit by his experience. Being one of those +foreigners, he had no sense of humor, and if the dragons bit him as he +fell, it is ten to one he could not even manage to smile. + +By this time we have rather traveled away from Roth's "Timber Physics" +and Ruth's home-run record, but we hope that you get what we mean. +Without knowing the exact nature of "Timber Physics," we assume that the +professor discusses the most efficient manner in which to bring about +the greatest possible impact between any wooden substance and a given +object. But mind you, he merely discusses it. If the professor chances +to be wrong, even if he is wrong three times, nobody in the classroom is +likely to poke a sudden finger high in the air and shout, "You're out!" + +The professor remains at bat during good behavior. He is not subject to +any such sudden vicissitudes as Ruth. Moreover, timber physics is to Mr. +Roth a matter of cool and calm deliberation. No adversary seeks to fool +him with speed or spitballs. "Hit it out" never rings in his ears. And +after all, just what difference does it make if Mr. Roth errs in his +timber physics? It merely means that a certain number of students leave +Michigan knowing a little less than they should--and nobody expects +anything else from students. + +On the other hand, a miscalculation by Ruth in the uses of wood affects +much more important matters. A strike-out on his part may bring about +complete tragedy and the direst misfortune. There have been occasions, +and we fear that there will still be occasions, when Ruth's bat will be +the only thing which stands between us and the loss of the American +League pennant. In times like these who cares about "Forest Conditions +in Wisconsin"? + +Coming to the final summing up for our side of the question at debate, +we shall try to lift the whole affair above any mere Ruth versus Roth +issue. It will be our endeavor to show that not only has Babe Ruth been +a profound interest and influence in America, but that on the whole he +has been a power for progress. Ruth has helped to make life a little +more gallant. He has set before us an example of a man who tries each +minute for all or nothing. When he is not knocking home runs he is +generally striking out, and isn't there more glory in fanning in an +effort to put the ball over the fence than in prolonging a little life +by playing safe? + + + + +VIII + +THE BIGGER THE YEAR + + +As soon as we heard that "The Big Year--A College Story" by Meade +Minnigerode was about Yale we knew that we just had to read it. Tales of +travel and curious native customs have always fascinated us. According +to Mr. Minnigerode the men of Yale walk about their campus in big blue +sweaters with "Y's" on them, smoking pipes and singing college songs +under the windows of one another. The seniors, he informs us, come out +on summer afternoons on roller skates. + +Of course, we are disposed to believe that Mr. Minnigerode, like all +travelers in strange lands, is prone to color things a little more +highly than exact accuracy would sanction. We felt this particularly +when he began to write about Yale football. There was, for instance, +Curly Corliss, the captain of the eleven, who is described as "starting +off after a punt to tear back through a broken field, thirty and forty +yards at a clip, tackling an opposing back with a deadliness which was +final--never hurt, always smiling--a blond head of curly hair (he never +wore a headguard) flashing in and out across the field, the hands +clapping together, the plaintive voice calling 'All right, all right, +give me the ball!' when a game was going badly, and then carrying it +alone to touchdown after touchdown." + +Although we have seen all of Yale's recent big games we recognized none +of that except "the plaintive voice" and even that would have been more +familiar if it had been used to say "Moral victory!" We waited to find +Mr. Minnigerode explaining that of course he was referring to the annual +contest with the Springfield Training School, but he did no such thing +and went straight ahead with the pretense that football at Yale is +romantic. To be sure, he attempts to justify this attitude by letting us +see a good deal of the gridiron doings through the eyes of a bull +terrier who could not well be expected to be captious. Champ, named +after the Yale chess team, came by accident to the field just as Curly +Corliss was off on one of his long runs. Yes, it was a game against the +scrubs. "Some one came tearing along and lunged at Curly as he went by, +apparently trying to grab him about the legs. Champ cast all caution to +the winds. Interfere with Curly, would he? Well, Champ guessed not! Like +an arrow from a bow Champ hurled himself through the air and fastened +his jaws firmly in the seat of the offender's pants, in a desperate +effort to prevent him from further molesting Curly." + +Champ was immediately adopted by the team as mascot. It seems to us he +deserved more, for this was the first decent piece of interference seen +on Yale field in years. The associate mascot was Jimmy, a little +newsboy, who also took football at New Haven seriously. His romanticism, +like that of Champ, was understandable. Hadn't Curly Corliss once saved +his life? We need not tell you that he had. "Jimmy," as Mr. Minnigerode +tells the story, "started to run across the street, without noticing the +street-car lumbering around the corner... and then before he knew it +Jimmy tripped and fell, and the car was almost on top of him grinding +its brakes. Jimmy never knew exactly what happened in the next few +seconds, but he heard people shouting, and then something struck him and +he was dragged violently away by the seat of the pants. When he could +think connectedly again he was sitting on the curb considerably +battered--and Curly was sitting beside him, with his trousers torn, +nursing a badly cut hand." + +We remember there was an incident like that in Cambridge once, only the +man who rescued the newsboy was not the football captain but a +substitute on the second team. We have forgotten his name. Unlike +Corliss of Yale, the Harvard man did not bother to pick up the newsboy. +Instead he seized the street car and threw it for a loss. + + * * * * * + +The first half was over and Princeton led by a score of 10 to 0. Things +looked blue for Yale. Neither mascot was on hand. Yale was trying to win +with nothing but students. Where was little Jimmy the newsboy? If you +must know he was in the hospital, for he had been run over again. The +boy could not seem to break himself of the habit. Unfortunately he had +picked out the afternoon of the Princeton game when all the Yale players +were much too busy trying to stop Tigers to have any time to interfere +with traffic. It was only an automobile this time and Jimmy escaped with +a mere gash over one eye. Champ, the bull terrier who caused the mixup, +was uninjured. "I'm all right now," Jimmy told the doctor, "honest I +am--can I go--I gotta take Champ out to the game--he's the mascot and +they can't win without him--please, Mister, let me go--I guess they need +us bad out there." + +Apparently the crying need of Yale football is not so much a coaching +system as a good leash to keep the mascots from getting run over. Champ +and Jimmy rushed into the locker room just as the big Blue team was +about to trot out for the second half. After that there was nothing to +it. Yale won by a score of 12 to 10. "Curly clapped his hands together," +writes Mr. Minnigerode in describing the rally, "and kept calling out +'Never mind the signal! Give me the ball' in his plaintive voice"---- + +This sounds more like Yale football than anything else in the book. +However, it sufficed. Curly made two touchdowns and all the Yale men +went to Mory's and sang "Curly Corliss, Curly Corliss, he will leave old +Harvard scoreless." It is said that a legend is now gaining ground in +New Haven that Yale will not defeat Harvard again until it is led by +some other captain whose name rhymes with "scoreless." The current +captain of the Elis is named Jordan. The only thing that rhymes with is +"scored on." + +Still, as Professor Billy Phelps has taught his students to say, +football isn't everything. Perhaps something of Sparta has gone from +Yale, for a few years or forever, but just look at the Yale poets and +novelists all over the place. There is a new kindliness at New Haven. +Take for instance the testimony of the same "Big Year" when it describes +a touching little scene between Curly Corliss, the captain of the Yale +football team, and his room mate as they are revealed in the act of +retiring for the night: + +"'Angel!' + +"'Yeah,' very sleepily. + +"'They all seem to get over it!' + +"'Over what?' + +"'The fellows who have graduated,' Curly explained. 'I guess they all +feel pretty poor when they leave, but they get over it right away. It's +just like changing into a new suit, I expect.' + +"'Yeah, I guess so'.... + +"'Well, goo' night, little feller'.... + +"'Goo' night, Teddy.'" + +But we do wish Mr. Minnigerode had been a little more explicit and had +told us who tucked them in. + + + + +IX + +FOR OLD NASSAU + + +Wadsworth Camp, we find, has done almost as much for Princeton in his +novel, "The Guarded Heights," as Meade Minnigerode has accomplished for +Yale in "The Big Year." + +George Morton might never have gone to any college if it had not been +for Sylvia Planter. He was enamored of her from the very beginning when +old Planter engaged him to accompany his daughter on rides, but his +admiration did not become articulate until she fell off her horse. She +seems to have done it extremely well. "He saw her horse refuse," writes +Mr. Camp, "straightening his knees and sliding in the marshy ground. He +watched Sylvia, with an ease and grace nearly unbelievable, somersault +across the hedge and out of sight in the meadow beyond." + +It seemed to us that the horse should have received some of the credit +for the ease with which Sylvia shot across the hedge, but young Morton +was much too intent upon the fate of his goddess to have eyes for +anything else. When he found her lying on the ground she was +unconscious, and so he told her of his love. That brought her to and she +called him "You--you--stable boy." And so George decided to go to +college. + +His high school preparation had been scant and irregular. He went to +Princeton, and after two months' cramming passed all his examinations. +Football attracted him from the first as a means to the advancement +which he desired. "With surprised eyes," writes our author, "he saw +estates as extravagant as Oakmont, and frequently in better taste. +Little by little he picked up the names of the families that owned them. +He told himself that some day he would enter those places as a guest, +bowed to by such servants as he had been. It was possible, he promised +himself bravely, if only he could win a Yale or a Harvard game." + +Perhaps this explains why one meets so few Princeton men socially. Some, +we have found, are occasionally invited to drop in after dinner. These, +we assume, are recruited from the ranks of those Princetonians who have +tied Yale or Harvard or at least held the score down. + +Like Mr. Minnigerode, Mr. Camp employs symbolism in his story. In the +Yale novel we had Corliss evidently standing for Coy. Just which +Princeton hero George Morton represents we are not prepared to say. In +fact, the only Princeton name which comes to mind at the moment is that +of Big Bill Edwards who used to sit in the Customs House and throw them +all for a loss. Morton can hardly be intended for Edwards because it +seems unlikely that anybody would ever have engaged Big Bill to ride +horses; no, not even to break them. A little further on, however, we are +introduced to the Princeton coach, a certain Mr. Stringham. Here, to be +sure, identification is easy. Stringham, we haven't a doubt, is Roper. +We could wish Mr. Camp had been more subtle. He might, for instance, +have called him Cordier. + +In some respects Morton proved an even better football player than +Corliss. He did not score any greater number of touchdowns, but he had +more of an air with him. Thus, in the account of the Harvard game it is +recorded: "Then, with his interference blocked and tumbling, George +yielded to his old habit and slipped off to one side at a hazard. The +enemy's secondary defense had been drawing in, there was no one near +enough to stop him within those ten yards and he went over for a +touchdown and casually kicked the goal." + +Eventually, George Morton did get asked to all the better houses, but +still Sylvia spurned him. "Go away and don't bother me," was the usual +form of her replies to his ardent words of wooing. Naturally he knew +that he had her on the run. A man who had taken more than one straight +arm squarely in the face during the course of his football career was +not to be rebuffed by a slip of a girl. + +The war delayed matters for a time, and George went and was good at that +too. He was a major before he left Plattsburgh. For a time we feared +that he was in danger of becoming a snob, but the great democratizing +forces of the conflict carried him into the current. One of the most +thrilling chapters in the book tells how he exposed his life under very +heavy fire to go forward and rescue an American who turned out to be a +Yale man. + +There was no stopping George Morton. In the end he wore Sylvia down. +Nothing else could be expected from such a man. German machine guns and +heavy artillery had failed to stop him and he had even hit the Harvard +line, upon occasion, without losing a yard. + +His head was hard and he could not take a hint. In the end Sylvia just +had to marry him. Her right hand swing was not good enough. "As in a +dream he went to her, and her curved lips moved beneath his, but he +pressed them closer so that she couldn't speak; for he felt encircling +them in a breathless embrace, as his arms held her, something thrilling +and rudimentary that neither of them had experienced before----" + +And as we read the further details of the love scene it seemed to us +that George Morton had made a most fortunate choice when he decided to +go to Princeton. His football experience stood him in good stead in his +love-making, for he had been trained with an eleven which tackled around +the neck. + + + + +X + +MR. DEMPSEY'S FIVE-FOOT SHELF + + +It is hardly fair to expect Jack Dempsey to take literature very +seriously. How, for instance, can he afford to pay much attention to +George Bernard Shaw who declared just before the fight that Carpentier +could not lose and ought to be quoted at odds of fifty to one? From the +point of view of Dempsey, then, creative evolution, the superman and all +the rest, are the merest moonshine. He might well take the position that +since Mr. Shaw was so palpably wrong about the outcome of the fight two +days before it happened, it scarcely behooves anybody to pay much +attention to his predictions as to the fate of the world and mankind two +thousand years hence. + +Whatever the reason, Jack Dempsey does not read George Bernard Shaw +much. But he has heard of him. When some reporter came to Dempsey a day +or so before the fight and told him that Shaw had fixed fifty to one as +the proper odds on Carpentier, the champion made no comment. The +newspaper gossiper, disappointed of his sensation, asked if Dempsey had +ever heard of Shaw and the fighter stoutly maintained that he had. The +examination went no further but it is fair to assume that Dempsey did +know the great British sporting writer. It was not remarkable that he +paid no attention to his prediction. Dempsey would not even be moved +much by a prediction from Hughie Fullerton. + +In other words literature and life are things divorced in Dempsey's +mind. He does read. The first time we ever saw Dempsey he discussed +books with not a little interest. He was not at his training quarters +when we arrived but his press agent showed us about--a singularly +reverential man this press agent. "This," he said, and he seemed to +lower his voice, "is the bed where Jack Dempsey sleeps." All the Louises +knew better beds and so did Lafayette even when a stranger in a strange +land. Washington himself fared better in the midst of war. Nor can it be +said that there was anything very compelling about the room in which +Dempsey slept. It had air but not much distinction. There were just two +pictures on the wall. One represented a heavy surf upon an indeterminate +but rather rockbound coast and the other showed a lady asleep with +cupids hovering about her bed. Although the thought is erotic the artist +had removed all that in the execution. + +Much more striking was the fact that upon a chair beside the bed of +Dempsey lay a couple of books and a magazine. It was not _The Bookman_ +but _Photo Play_. The books were "The Czar's Spy" by William Le Queux, +"The Spoilers" by Rex Beach, and at least one other Western novel which +we have unfortunately forgotten. It was, as we remember it, the Luck of +the Lazy Something or Other. The press agent said that Jack read quite a +little and pointed to the reading light which had been strung over his +bed. He then went on to show us the clothes closet and the bureau of +the champion to prove that he was no slave to fashion. We can testify +that only one pair of shoes in the room had gray suede tops. Then we saw +the kitchen and were done. + +There had been awe in the tones of the conductor from the beginning. +"Jack's going to have roast lamb for dinner to-night," he announced in +an awful hush. Even as we went out he could not resist lowering his +voice a little as he said, "This is the hat rack. This is where the +champion puts his hat." We had gone only fifty yards away from the house +when a big brown limousine drew up. "That," said the press agent, and +this time we feared he was going to die, "is Jack Dempsey himself." + +The preparation had been so similar to the first act of "Enter Madame" +that we expected temperament and gesture from the star. He put us wholly +at ease by being much more frightened than any one in the visiting +party. As somebody has said somewhere, "Any mouse can make this elephant +squeal." Jack Dempsey is decidedly a timid man and we found later that +he was a gentle one. He answered, "Yes, sir," and "No, sir," at first. +If we had his back and shoulders we'd have a civil word for no man. By +and by he grew a little more at ease and somebody asked him what he +read. He was not particularly strong on the names of books and he always +forgot the author, which detracts somewhat from this article as a guide +for readers. There were almost three hundred books at his disposal, +since his training quarters had once been an aviation camp. These were +the books of the fliers. Practically all the popular novelists and short +story writers were represented. We remember seeing several titles by +Mary Roberts Rinehart, Irvin Cobb, Zane Grey, Rupert Hughes, and Rex +Beach. Older books were scarce. The only one we noticed was "A Tale of +Two Cities." This Dempsey had not read. Perhaps Jack Kearns advised +against it on account of the possible disturbing psychological effects +of the chapter with all the counting. + +Dempsey said he had devoted most of his time to Western novels. When +questioned he admitted that he did not altogether surrender himself to +them. "I was a cowboy once for a while," he said. "There's a lot of +hokum in those books." But when pressed as to what he really liked his +face did light up and he even remembered the name of the book. "There +was one book I've been reading," he burst out; "it's a fine book. It's +called 'The Czar's Spy.'" + +"Perhaps," suggested Ruth Hale of the visiting party, "a grand duke +would say there was a lot of hokum in that." + +Dempsey was not to be deterred by any such higher criticism. Never +having been a grand duke, he did not worry about the accuracy of the +story. It was in a field far apart from life. That we gathered was his +idea of the proper field for fiction. In life Dempsey is a stern +realist. It is only in reading that he is romantic. A more +impressionable man would have been disturbed by the air of secrecy which +surrounded the camp of Carpentier. That never worried Dempsey. He +prepared himself and never thought up contingencies. He did not even +like to talk fight. None of us drew him out much about boxing. Somebody +told him that Jim Corbett had reported that when he first met Carpentier +he had been vastly tempted to make a feint at the Frenchman to see +whether or not he would fall into a proper attitude of defense. + +"Yes," giggled Dempsey, "and it would have been funny if Carp had busted +him one on the chin." This seemed to him an extraordinary humorous +conceit and he kept chuckling over it every now and then. While he was +in this good humor somebody sounded him out as to what he would do if he +lost; or rather the comment was made that an old time fighter, once a +champion, was now coming back to the ring and had declared that he was +as good as he ever was. + +"Why shouldn't he?" said Dempsey just a little sharply. "Nobody wants to +see a man that says he isn't as good as he used to be." + +"Would you say that?" he was asked. + +"Well," said Dempsey, and this time he reflected a little, "it would all +depend on how I was fixed. If I needed the money I would. I'd use all +the old alibis." + +We liked that frankness and we liked Dempsey again when somebody wanted +to know how he could possibly say anything in the ring during the fight +to "get the goat of Carpentier." "We ain't nearly well enough acquainted +for that," said Dempsey and we gathered that he was of the opinion that +you must know a man pretty well before you can insult him. The champion +is not a man to whom one would look for telling rejoinders, though he +has needed them often enough in the last year and a half. Criticism has +hurt him, for he is not insensitive. He is merely inarticulate. This +must have been the reason which prompted some sporting writers to feel +that he would come into the ring whipped and down from the fact that he +had been able to make no reply to all the charges brought against him. +It did not work out that way. Dempsey did have a means of expression and +he used it. There is no logic in force and yet a man can exclaim "Is +that so!" with his fists. Dempsey said it. If we may be allowed to +stretch a point it might even be hazarded that the champion's motto is +"Say it with cauliflowers." + +As the Freudians have it, fighting is his "escape." Decidedly, he is a +man with an inferiority complex. But for his boxing skill he would need +literature badly. As it is, he does not need to read about hair-breadth +escapes. He has them, such as in the second round of the fight on +Boyle's Thirty Acres. + +In summing up, we can only add that as yet literature has had no large +effect upon the life of Jack Dempsey. + + + + +XI + +SPORT FOR ART'S SAKE + + +For years we had been hearing about moral victories and at last we saw +one. This is not intended as an excuse for the fact that we said before +the fight that Carpentier would beat Dempsey. We erred with Bernard +Shaw. The surprising revelation which came to us on this July afternoon +was that a thing may be done well enough to make victory entirely +secondary. We have all heard, of course, of sport for sport's sake but +Georges Carpentier established a still more glamorous ideal. Sport for +art's sake was what he showed us in the big wooden saucer over on +Boyle's dirty acres. + +It was the finest tragic performance in the lives of ninety thousand +persons. We hope that Professor George Pierce Baker sent his class in +dramatic composition. We will be disappointed if Eugene O'Neill, the +white hope of the American drama, was not there. Here for once was a +laboratory demonstration of life. None of the crowds in Greece who went +to somewhat more beautiful stadiums in search of Euripides ever saw the +spirit of tragedy more truly presented. And we will wager that Euripides +was not able to lift his crowd up upon its hind legs into a concerted +shout of "Medea! Medea! Medea!" as Carpentier moved the fight fans over +in Jersey City in the second round. In fact it is our contention that +the fight between Dempsey and Carpentier was the most inspiring +spectacle which America has seen in a generation. + +Personally we would go further back than that. We would not accept a +ticket for David and Goliath as a substitute. We remember that in that +instance the little man won, but it was a spectacle less fine in +artistry from the fact that it was less true to life. The tradition that +Jack goes up the beanstalk and kills his giant, and that Little Red +Ridinghood has the better of the wolf, and many other stories are +limited in their inspirational quality by the fact that they are not +true. They are stories that man has invented to console himself on +winter's evenings for the fact that he is small and the universe is +large. Carpentier showed us something far more thrilling. All of us who +watched him know now that man cannot beat down fate, no matter how much +his will may flame, but he can rock it back upon its heels when he puts +all his heart and his shoulders into a blow. + +That is what happened in the second round. Carpentier landed his +straight right upon Dempsey's jaw and the champion, who was edging in +toward him, shot back and then swayed forward. Dempsey's hands dropped +to his side. He was an open target. Carpentier swung a terrific right +hand uppercut and missed. Dempsey fell into a clinch and held on until +his head cleared. He kept close to Carpentier during the rest of the +fight and wore him down with body blows during the infighting. We know +of course that when the first prehistoric creature crawled out of the +ooze up to the beaches (see "The Outline of History" by H. G. Wells, +some place in the first volume, just a couple of pages after that +picture of the big lizard) it was already settled that Carpentier was +going to miss that uppercut. And naturally it was inevitable that he +should have the worst of it at infighting. Fate gets us all in the +clinches, but Eugene O'Neill and all our young writers of tragedy make a +great mistake if they think that the poignancy of the fate of man lies +in the fact that he is weak, pitiful and helpless. The tragedy of life +is not that man loses but that he almost wins. Or, if you are intent on +pointing out that his downfall is inevitable, that at least he completes +the gesture of being on the eve of victory. + +For just eleven seconds on the afternoon of July 2 we felt that we were +at the threshold of a miracle. There was such flash and power in the +right hand thrust of Carpentier's that we believed Dempsey would go +down, and that fate would go with him and all the plans laid out in the +days of the oozy friends of Mr. Wells. No sooner were the men in the +ring together than it seemed just as certain that Dempsey would win as +that the sun would come up on the morning of July 3. By and by we were +not so sure about the sun. It might be down, we thought, and also out. +It was included in the scope of Carpentier's punch, we feared. No, we +did not exactly fear it. We respect the regularity of the universe by +which we live, but we do not love it. If the blow had been as +devastating as we first believed, we should have counted the world well +lost. + +Great circumstances produce great actors. History is largely concerned +with arranging good entrances for people; and later exits not always +quite so good. Carpentier played his part perfectly down to the last +side. People who saw him just as he came before the crowd reported that +he was pitifully nervous, drawn, haggard. It was the traditional and +becoming nervousness of the actor just before a great performance. It +was gone the instant Carpentier came in sight of his ninety thousand. +His head was back and his eyes and his smile flamed as he crawled +through the ropes. And he gave some curious flick to his bathrobe as he +turned to meet the applause. Until that very moment we had been for +Dempsey, but suddenly we found ourself up on our feet making silly +noises. We shouted "Carpentier! Carpentier! Carpentier!" and forgot even +to be ashamed of our pronunciation. He held his hands up over his head +and turned until the whole arena, including the five-dollar seats, had +come within the scope of his smile. + +Dempsey came in a minute later and we could not cheer, although we liked +him. It would have been like cheering for Niagara Falls at the moment +somebody was about to go over in a barrel. Actually there is a +difference of sixteen pounds between the two men, which is large enough, +but it seemed that afternoon as if it might have been a hundred. And we +knew for the first time that a man may smile and smile and be an +underdog. + +We resented at once the law of gravity, the Malthusian theory and the +fact that a straight line is the shortest distance between two points. +Everything scientific, exact, and inevitable was distasteful. We wanted +the man with the curves to win. It seemed impossible throughout the +first round. Carpentier was first out of his corner and landed the first +blow, a light but stinging left to the face. Then Dempsey closed in and +even the people who paid only thirty dollars for their seats could hear +the thump, thump of his short hooks as they beat upon the narrow stomach +of Carpentier. The challenger was only too evidently tired when the +round ended. + +Then came the second and, after a moment of fiddling about, he shot his +right hand to the jaw. Carpentier did it again, a second time, and this +was the blow perfected by a life time of training. The time was perfect, +the aim was perfect, every ounce of strength was in it. It was the blow +which had downed Bombardier Wells, and Joe Beckett. It rocked Dempsey to +his heels, but it broke Carpentier's hand. His best was not enough. +There was an earthquake in Philistia but then out came the signs +"Business as usual!" and Dempsey began to pound Carpentier in the +stomach. + +The challenger faded quickly in the third round, and in the fourth the +end came. We all suffered when he went down the first time, but he was +up again, and the second time was much worse. It was in this knockdown +that his head sagged suddenly, after he struck the floor, and fell back +upon the canvas. He was conscious and his legs moved a little, but they +would not obey him. A gorgeous human will had been beaten down to a +point where it would no longer function. + +If you choose, that can stand as the last moment in a completed piece +of art. We are sentimental enough to wish to add the tag that after a +few minutes Carpentier came out to the center of the ring and shook +hands with Dempsey and at that moment he smiled again the same smile +which we had seen at the beginning of the fight when he stood with his +hands above his head. Nor is it altogether sentimental. We feel that one +of the elements of tragedy lies in the fact that Fate gets nothing but +the victories and the championships. Gesture and glamour remain with +Man. No infighting can take that away from him. Jack Dempsey won fairly +and squarely. He is a great fighter, perhaps the most efficient the +world has ever known, but everybody came away from the arena talking +about Carpentier. He wasn't every efficient. The experts say he fought +an ill considered fight and should not have forced it. In using such a +plan, they say, he might have lasted the whole twelve rounds. That was +not the idea. As somebody has said, "Better four rounds of----" but we +can't remember the rest of the quotation. + +Dempsey won and Carpentier got all the glory. Perhaps we will have to +enlarge our conception of tragedy, for that too is tragic. + + + + +XII + +JACK THE GIANT KILLER + + +All the giants and most of the dragons were happy and contented folk. +Neither fear nor shame was in them. They faced life squarely and liked +it. And so they left no literature. + +The business of writing was left to the dwarfs, who felt impelled to +distort real values in order to make their own pitiful existence +endurable. In their stories the little people earned ease of mind for +themselves by making up yarns in which they killed giants, dragons and +all the best people of the community who were too big and strong for +them. Naturally, the giants and dragons merely laughed at such times as +these highly drawn accounts of imaginary happenings were called to their +attention. + +But they laughed not only too soon but too long. Giants and dragons have +died and the stories remain. The world believes to-day that St. George +slew the dragon, and that Jack killed all those giants. The little man +has imposed himself upon the world. Strength and size have come to be +reproaches. The world has been won by the weak. + +Undoubtedly, it is too late to do anything about this now. But there is +a little dim and distant dragon blood in our veins. It boils when we +hear the fairy stories and we remember the true version of Jack the +Giant Killer, as it has been handed down by word of mouth in our family +for a great many centuries. We can produce no tangible proofs, and we +are willing to admit that the tale may have grown a little distorted +here and there in the telling through the ages. Even so it sounds much +more plausible to us than the one which has crept into the story books. + +Jack was a Celt, a liar and a meager man. He had great green eyes and +much practice in being pathetic. He could sing tenor and often did. But +it was not in this manner that he lived. By trade he was a newspaper man +though he called himself a journalist. In his shop there was a printing +press and every afternoon he issued a newspaper which he called _Jack's +Journal_. Under this name there ran the caption, "If you see it in +_Jack's Journal_ you may be sure that it actually occurred." Jack had no +talent for brevity and little taste for truth. All in all he was a +pretty poor newspaper man. We forgot to say that in addition to this he +was exceedingly lazy. But he was a good liar. + +This was the only thing which saved him. Day after day he would come to +the office without a single item of local interest, and upon such +occasions he made a practice of sitting down and making up something. +Generally, it was far more thrilling than any of the real news of the +community which clustered around one great highroad known as Main +Street. + +The town lay in a valley cupped between towering hills. On the hills, +and beyond, lived the giants and the dragons, but there was little +interchange between these fine people and the dwarfs of the village. +Occasionally, a sliced drive from the giants' golf course would fall +into the fields of the little people, who would ignorantly set down the +great round object as a meteor from heaven. The giants were considerate +as well as kindly and they made the territory of the little people out +of bounds. Otherwise, an erratic golfer might easily have uprooted the +first national bank, the Second Baptist Church, which stood next door, +and _Jack's Journal_ with one sweep of his niblick. If by any chance he +failed to get out in one, the total destruction of mankind would have +been imminent. + +Once upon a time, a charitable dowager dragon sought to bring about a +closer relationship between the peoples of the hills and the valley in +spite of their difference in size. Hearing of a poor neglected family in +the village, which was freezing to death because of want of coal, she +leaned down from her mountain and breathed gently against the roof of +the thatched cottage. Her intentions were excellent but the damage was +$152,694, little of which was covered by insurance. After that the +dragons and the giants decided to stop trying to do favors for the +little people. + +Being short of news one afternoon, Jack thought of the great gulf which +existed between his reading public and the big fellows on the hill and +decided that it would be safe to romance a little. Accordingly, he wrote +a highly circumstantial story of the manner in which he had gone to the +hills and killed a large giant with nothing more than his good broad +sword. The story was not accepted as gospel by all the subscribers, but +it was well told, and it argued an undreamed of power in the arm of man. +People wanted to believe and accordingly they did. Encouraged, Jack +began to kill dragons and giants with greater frequency in his +newspaper. In fact, he called his last evening edition _The Five Star +Giant Final_ and never failed to feature a killing in it under great red +block type. + +The news of the Jack's doings came finally to the hill people and they +were much amused, that is all but one giant called Fee Fi Fo Fum. The Fo +Fums (pronounced Fohum) were one of the oldest families in the hills. +Jack supposed that all the names he was using were fictitious, but by +some mischance or other he happened one afternoon to use Fee Fi Fo Fum +as the name of his current victim. The name was common enough and +undoubtedly the thing was an accident, but Mr. Fo Fum did not see it in +that light. To make it worse, Jack had gone on in his story with some +stuff about captive princesses just for the sake of sex appeal. Not only +was Mr. Fo Fum an ardent Methodist, but his wife was jealous. There was +a row in the Fo Fum home (see encyclopedia for Great Earthquake of 1007) +and Fee swore revenge upon Jack. + +"Make him print a retraction," said Mrs. Fo Fum. + +"Retraction, nothing," roared Fee, "I'm going to eat up the presses." + +Over the hills he went with giant strides and arrived at the office of +_Jack's Journal_ just at press time. Mr. Fo Fum was a little calmer by +now, but still revengeful. He spoke to Jack in a whisper which shook the +building, and told him that he purposed to step on him and bite his +press in two. + +"Wait until I have this last page made up," said Jack. + +"Killing more giants, I presume?" said Fee with heavy satire. + +"Bagged three this afternoon," said Jack. "Hero Slaughters Trio of +Titans." + +"My name is Fo Fum," said the giant. Jack did not recognize it because +of the trick pronunciation and the visitor had to explain. + +"I'm sorry," said Jack, "but if you've come for extra copies of the +paper in which your name figures I can't give you any. The edition is +exhausted." + +Fo Fum spluttered and blew a bale of paper out of the window. + +"Cut that out," said Jack severely. "All complaints must be made in +writing. And while I'm about it you forgot to put your name down on one +of those slips at the desk in the reception room. Don't forget to fill +in that space about what business you want to discuss with the editor." + +Fo Fum started to roar, but Jack's high and pathetic tenor cut through +the great bass like a ship's siren in a storm. + +"If you don't quit shaking this building I'll call Julius the office boy +and have him throw you out." + +"Take the air," added Jack severely, disregarding the fact that Fo Fum +before entering the office had found it necessary to remove the roof. +But now the giant was beginning to stoop a little. His face grew purple +and he was swaying unsteadily on his feet. + +"Hold on a minute," said Jack briskly, "don't go just yet. Stick around +a second." + +He turned to his secretary and dictated two letters of congratulation to +distant emperors and another to a cardinal. "Tell the Pope," he said in +conclusion, "that his conduct is admirable. Tell him I said so." + +"Now, Mr. Fo Fum," said Jack turning back to the giant, "what I want +from you is a picture. There is still plenty of light. I'll call up the +staff photographer. The north meadow will give us room. Of course, you +will have to be taken lying down because as far as the _Journal_ goes +you're dead. And just one thing more. Could you by any chance let me +have one of your ears for our reception room?" + +Fo Fum had been growing more and more purple, but now he toppled over +with a crash, carrying part of the building with him. Almost two years +before he had been warned by a doctor of apoplexy and sudden anger. Jack +did not wait for the verdict of any medical examiner. He seized the +speaking tube and shouted down to the composing room, "Jim, take out +that old head. Make it read, 'Hero Finishes Four Ferocious Foemen.' And +say, Jim, I want you to be ready to replate for a special extra with an +eight column cut. I'll have the photographer here in a second. I killed +that last giant right here in the office. Yes, and say, Jim, you'd +better use that stock cut of me at the bottom of the page. A caption, +let me see, put it in twenty-four point cheltenham bold and make it read +'Jack--the Giant Killer.'" + + + + +XIII + +JUDGE KRINK + + +H. 3d, our three-year-old son, has created for himself out of thin air +somebody whom he can respect. The name of this character is Judge Krink, +but generally he is more casually referred to as "the Judge." He lives, +so we are informed, at some remote place called Fourace Hill. H. 3d says +Judge Krink is his best friend. He told us yesterday that he had written +a letter to Judge Krink and had received one in reply. + +"What did you say?" we asked. + +"I said I was writing him a letter." + +"What did he say?" + +"Nothing." + +This interchange of courtesies did not seem epoch-making even in the +life of a child, but we learned later just how extraordinarily important +and useful Judge Krink had become to H. 3d. Cross-examination revealed +the fact that Judge Krink has dirty hands which he never allows to be +washed. Under no compulsion does he go to bed. Apparently he sits all +day long in a garden, more democratically administered than any city +park, digging dirt and putting it in a pail. + +Candy Judge Krink eats very freely and without let or hindrance. In fact +there is nothing forbidden to H. 3d which Judge Krink does not do with +great gusto. Rules and prohibitions melt before the iron will and +determination of the Judge. We suppose that when the artificial +restrictions of a grown-up world bear too heavily upon H. 3d he finds +consolation in the thought that somewhere in the world Judge Krink is +doing all these things. We cannot get at Judge Krink and put him to bed +or take away his trumpet. The Judge makes monkeys of all of us who seek +to administer harsh laws in an unduly restricted world. The sound of his +shovel beating against his tin pail echoes revolution all over the +world. + +And vicariously the will of H. 3d triumphs with him, no matter how +complete may be any mere corporeal defeat which he himself suffers. The +more we hear about the Judge the more strongly do we feel drawn to him. +We would like to have one of our own. Some day we hope to win sufficient +favor with H. 3d to prevail upon him to introduce us to Judge Krink. + + * * * * * + +We are never to meet Judge Krink after all. He has passed back into the +nowhere from whence he came. It was only to-day that we learned the +news, although we had suspected that the Judge's popularity was waning. +Some visitor undertook to cross-question H. 3d about his relations with +Krink and it was plain to see that the child resented it, but we were +not prepared for the direction which his revenge took. When we asked +about the Judge to-day there was no response at first and it was only +after a long pause that H. 3d answered, "I don't have Judge Krink any +more. He's got table manners." + + + + +XIV + +FRANKINCENSE AND MYRRH + + +Once there were three kings in the East and they were wise men. They +read the heavens and they saw a certain strange star by which they knew +that in a distant land the King of the world was to be born. The star +beckoned to them and they made preparations for a long journey. + +From their palaces they gathered rich gifts, gold and frankincense and +myrrh. Great sacks of precious stuffs were loaded upon the backs of the +camels which were to bear them on their journey. Everything was in +readiness, but one of the wise men seemed perplexed and would not come +at once to join his two companions who were eager and impatient to be on +their way in the direction indicated by the star. + +They were old, these two kings, and the other wise man was young. When +they asked him he could not tell why he waited. He knew that his +treasuries had been ransacked for rich gifts for the King of Kings. It +seemed that there was nothing more which he could give, and yet he was +not content. + +He made no answer to the old men who shouted to him that the time had +come. The camels were impatient and swayed and snarled. The shadows +across the desert grew longer. And still the young king sat and thought +deeply. + +At length he smiled, and he ordered his servants to open the great +treasure sack upon the back of the first of his camels. Then he went +into a high chamber to which he had not been since he was a child. He +rummaged about and presently came out and approached the caravan. In his +hand he carried something which glinted in the sun. + +The kings thought that he bore some new gift more rare and precious than +any which they had been able to find in all their treasure rooms. They +bent down to see, and even the camel drivers peered from the backs of +the great beasts to find out what it was which gleamed in the sun. They +were curious about this last gift for which all the caravan had waited. + +And the young king took a toy from his hand and placed it upon the sand. +It was a dog of tin, painted white and speckled with black spots. Great +patches of paint had worn away and left the metal clear, and that was +why the toy shone in the sun as if it had been silver. + +The youngest of the wise men turned a key in the side of the little +black and white dog and then he stepped aside so that the kings and the +camel drivers could see. The dog leaped high in the air and turned a +somersault. He turned another and another and then fell over upon his +side and lay there with a set and painted grin upon his face. + +A child, the son of a camel driver, laughed and clapped his hands, but +the kings were stern. They rebuked the youngest of the wise men and he +paid no attention but called to his chief servant to make the first of +all the camels kneel. Then he picked up the toy of tin and, opening the +treasure sack, placed his last gift with his own hands in the mouth of +the sack so that it rested safely upon the soft bags of incense. + +"What folly has seized you?" cried the eldest of the wise men. "Is this +a gift to bear to the King of Kings in the far country?" + +And the young man answered and said: "For the King of Kings there are +gifts of great richness, gold and frankincense and myrrh. + +"But this," he said, "is for the child in Bethlehem!" + + + + +XV + +THE EXCELSIOR MOVEMENT + + +The fun of most of the criticism of George Jean Nathan's lies in the +fact that he has been an irreconcilable in the theater. Rules and +theories have been disclaimed by him. Each play has been a problem to be +considered separately without relation to anything else except, of +course, the current dramatic activities in Vienna, Budapest and Moscow. +Most of his themes have been variations of the two important aspects of +all criticism, "I like" and "I don't like." Masking his thrusts under a +screen of indifference, he has generally afforded stirring comment by +the sudden revelation of the fact that his enthusiasms and his hates are +lively and personal. Being among the unclassified, the element of +surprise has entered largely into his expression of opinion. + +But of late it is evident that Mr. Nathan has grown a little lonely in +functioning as a guerilla in the field of dramatic reviewing. He is +envious of the cults and his scorn of Clayton Hamilton, George Pierce +Baker and William Archer seems to have been nothing more than what the +Freudians call a defensive mechanism. He too would ally himself with a +school--to be called the George Jean Nathan School of Criticism. + +His latest volume of collected essays, entitled "The Critic and the +Drama," is designed as a prospectus for pupils. It undertakes to codify +and describe in part the theater of to-day and to analyze and explain +much more fully George Jean Nathan. He insists on our knowing how the +trick is done. To us there is something disturbing in all this. We have +always been among those who did not care to go behind the scenes at the +playhouse for fear that we might be forced to learn how thunder is +contrived and the manner of making lightning. Still more we have feared +that somebody would impel us into a corner and point out the real David +Belasco. We much prefer our own romantic impression gathered wholly from +his curtain speeches at first nights. + +It is painful, then, to have the new book insist upon our meeting the +real Mr. Nathan. It was not our desire ever to know how his mind worked. +We much preferred to believe that the charming little pieces in the +_Smart Set_ had no father and no mother except spontaneous combustion. +To find this antic author burdened with theories is almost as +disillusioning as to hear of Pegasus winning the 2.20 trot or one of the +muses contracting to give a culture course at the Woman's Study Club of +New Rochelle. + +And the worst of it is that the theories of Mr. Nathan, when exposed in +detail, seem to be much like those of other men. Even those who have +never had the privilege of attending a performance of Micklefluden's +"Arbeit" at Das Hochhaus in Prague early in the spring of 1905 have much +the same philosophy of the critic and the playhouse as Mr. Nathan. Thus +we find him explaining that Shakespeare was "the greatest dramatist who +ever lived, because he alone of all dramatists most accurately sensed +the mongrel nature of his art." Mr. Nathan also insists sternly that +criticism must be personal, and in discussing the relation between the +printed and the acted drama he ingeniously makes a comparison with +music. + +"If drama is not meant for actors," he cries, "may we not also argue +that music is not meant for instruments?" We see no reason on earth why +Mr. Nathan should not argue in this manner, since so many hundreds in +the past have raised the same point. It is also interesting to learn +that Mr. Nathan thinks that the drama can never approximate nature. "It +holds the mirror not up to nature but to the spectator's individual +nature." He has also discovered that "great drama, like great men and +women, is always just a little sad." + +"The Critic and the Drama" is probably the most profound book which Mr. +Nathan has ever published and it is by far the dullest. His pages are +alive with echoes even at such times as they are not directly evoked and +called upon by name. One of the difficulties of profundity is +overcrowding. A man may remain pretty much to himself as long as he +chooses to keep his touch light and avoid research. Taking a suggestion +from Mr. Nathan, it may be said that all great masses of men are a +little serious. In the plains and the rolling country there is room for +an individual to skip and frolic, but all the peaks are pre-empted. + +It may not be generally known that the young man who carried the banner +with the strange device was lucky to die when he did. Had he eventually +reached the summit which he sought he would have discovered to his great +dismay that he merely constituted the 29th division in the annual outing +of the Excelsior Marching and Chowder Club. + +Criticism gives the lie to an ancient adage. In this field of endeavor +"The higher the fewer" may be recognized as an exquisite piece of +irony. + + + + +XVI + +THE DOG STAR + + +_The Silent Call_ presents the most beautiful of all male stars now +appearing in the films. In intelligence, also, his rank seems high. The +picture is built around Strongheart, a magnificent police dog. There +are, to be sure, minor two-legged persons in his support, but +practically all the heavy emotional scenes are reserved for Strongheart. + +The dog star has virtues which are all his own. Any man of such glorious +physique could hardly fail to betray self-consciousness. His virility +would obsess him to such an extent that there certainly would be moments +of posturing and swagger. Strongheart is above all this. He never trades +upon the fact of being a "he dog" or even emphasizes that he is +red-blooded and 100 per cent police. + +Unlike all the other handsome devils of the screen, he goes about his +business without smirking. His smile is broad, unaffected and filled +with teeth and tongue. And above all, Strongheart does not slick down +his hair with water or with wax. + +Fine mountain country has been selected for _The Silent Call_ and we see +Strongheart galloping like a racing snow plow through white meadows +which foam at his progress. He fights villains with great intensity and +sincerity, devastates great herds of cattle and brings the picture to a +fitting climax by leaping from a jutting cliff to drown a miscreant in a +whirlpool. We have seen no photography as beautiful nor any picture so +vivid and live in action. + +The story itself is good enough, but somewhat less than masterly. +Repetition dulls the edge of rescue. The heroine, for instance, never +should have been allowed to visit God's own country without a chaperon. +Her propensity for predicament seems unlimited. Let her be lost in a +virgin forest, if only for a moment, and out of the nowhere some villain +arises to buffet her with odious and violent attentions. + +She keeps Strongheart as busy as if he had been a traffic police dog. He +is forever engaged in indicating "Stop" and "Go" to the stream of +miscreants who bear down upon Miss Betty Houston. Villainicular traffic +in the Northwest woods seems to be in need of constant regulation. + +Strongheart bit some bad men and barked at others. Both measures were +effective, for this is an unusual dog in that his bark is just as bad as +his bite. He never questioned the character or the intentions of the +heroine. After all, he was only a dumb animal and his loyalty was tinged +with no suspicions. + +We must admit that the human frailty of doubt sometimes led us to carp a +little at the rectitude of Miss Houston. Her plights were so numerous +that we were mean enough to wonder whether all were accidental. There +was one particular villain, for instance, who attempted to abduct her no +less than four times. We could not dismiss the thought that perhaps she +had given him some encouragement. Indeed we would not have been +surprised if at last there has come a caption quoting the heroine as +saying: "Get along with you, dog, and mind your own business." This, +however, did not prove to be within the scheme of the scenario writers. + +In all justice to Miss Houston, it must be said that, though she owed +Strongheart much, he was also in her debt. It took the love of a good +woman to drag him back from degradation. He was a nice dog until his +master left the ranch and went East to correct the proofs of a new book. +Strongheart could not understand that and neither could we. It seemed to +us as if the publisher might have sent the galleys on by mail. + +Deprived of the care of his owner, Strongheart began to revert to type. +He had been a wolf and he took to long hikes away from home. When he +grew hungry he killed a cow. The cattle men put a price upon his head +and Strongheart became an outcast. + +His return to civilization was effected by the first attack upon Miss +Houston. Even a wolf knows that it is only a coward who would strike a +woman. The police instinct proved stronger than the call of the wild and +the great beast bounded out of the thicket and seized Ash Brent by the +trousers. This was the first of many meetings between Ash and +Strongheart. The last and decisive encounter was in the whirlpool. The +dog swam to the bank alone and sat upon the bank to howl the piercing +death cry of the wolf. + +There is a suggestion of a happy ending in _The Silent Call_ because +Strongheart's original master falls in love with Miss Houston and +marries her. It was probably the only union for the heroine which the +dog would have sanctioned, and yet we cannot imagine that it left him +entirely happy. Once the much beset young woman was given over into the +care of a good man, Strongheart must have realized that his vocation was +gone. Ash Brent was dead and all the other villains had been captured by +the Sheriff. Placidity stared Strongheart in the face. + +To be sure, he bit people only because they were bad, but, like most +reformers, he had learned to love his work. It was to him more than a +duty. We doubt whether he remained long with the honeymooners. It is our +notion that on the first dark night he took to the wilds again. We can +imagine him stalking a contented cow in the moonlight. The poor beast +lowers her head for grass and Strongheart, seeking to convince himself +that the horns have been employed in an overt act, mutters: "You would, +would you!" Then comes the leap and the crashing of the great wolf jaws. +It is the invariable tragedy of the reformer that, though his work has +been accomplished, he cannot retire. First come the giants and then the +windmills. + + + + +XVII + +ALTRUISTIC POKER + + +Although Ella Wheeler Wilcox's autobiography is a human document +throughout, nothing in it has interested us quite so much as her +description of her husband's poker system in the chapter called "The +Compelling Lover." + +"In my early married life," writes Mrs. Wilcox, "he was much in demand +for the game of poker," but a little later she explains, "Even in his +love of cards and in his monotonous life of travel for the first seven +years after our marriage, when card games were his only recreation, he +introduced his idea of altruism. This, too, was a matter known only to +me. He played games of chance only with men he knew; whatever money he +made was kept in a separate purse, and when he came home he asked me to +help him distribute it among deserving people." + +Any new system is worth trying when your luck is bad, and yet it seems +to us that there are fundamental objections to the scheme suggested by +Mrs. Wilcox. At least, we don't think it would work well for us. If we +drew a club to four hearts we might bravely push all our chips forward +and say "Raise it," provided the risk was ours alone. We couldn't do +that if we were playing for Uncle Albert. Our anxiety would betray us. +Even if Aunt Hattie had been mentally selected as the beneficiary of the +evening we should feel compelled to play the cards close to our chest. +She is a dear old lady and not a bit prudish, but we're sure she would +never approve of whooping the pot on a king and an ace and a seven spot. + +Then take the debatable question of two pairs. Personally we have always +believed in raising on them before the draw. Such a procedure is +dangerous, perhaps, but profitable in the long run. Under the Wilcox +system it might be difficult to take the larger viewpoint. It is more +than possible that we would grow timorous if Cousin Susie's hope of a +comfortable old age rested upon eights and deuces. + +Some years ago we used to encounter, every now and again, a kindly +middle-aged gentleman who was playing to send his brother to Harvard. It +weighed on him. Whenever he looked at his cards he had his brother's +chance of an education in mind. In fact, he grew so excessively cautious +that anybody could bluff him out of quite large pots merely by reaching +for a white chip. Some of the players, we fear, used to take advantage +of this fact. As we remember it, the young man finally went to the C. C. +N. Y. + +Of course, Ella Wheeler Wilcox makes no claim that the system is a +winning one. The implication is quite the other way. After all, she +writes of her husband, "He was much in demand for the game of poker." + + + + +XVIII + +THE WELL MADE REVIEW + + +One of the simplest ways in which a critic can put a play in its place +is to refer to it as "well made." The phrase has come to be a reproach. +It suggests a third act in which the friend of the family tells the +husband, "Take her out and buy her a good dinner," and the lover decides +that he will go back to Mesopotamia----"Alone!" + +George Bernard Shaw changed the style, and taught playgoers to refuse to +accept technic as something just as good as spiritual significance. We +now await the revolt against the well-made revue. Each of the Ziegfeld +Follies is perfect of its kind, but just as in the plays of Pinero, form +has triumphed over substance. The name Ziegfeld on the label means a +magnificent product perfect in every detail with complete satisfaction +guaranteed, but it is a standardized product. You know just what you are +going to get. Ziegfeld scenery, Ziegfeld costumes mean something +definite. Even "a Ziegfeld chorus girl" suggests an unvarying type. The +hood is as unmistakable as that of a Ford automobile. + +At times one is struck with a longing to find a single homely girl among +all the merry marchers. And there is at least a shadow of a wish to +encounter, likewise, something in a song or a set or a costume rough, +unfinished and ungainly. Alexander sighed and so might Ziegfeld. His +supremacy in the field of musical revue is unquestioned. Even the shows +with which he has no connection follow his modes as best they can, +though sometimes at a great distance. He really owes it to himself and +to his public to put on, in the near future, a very bad revue so that in +the ensuing year that most precious element in +entertainment--surprise--may again come to the theater through him. The +first of all the Ziegfeld Follies must have furnished its audience with +a night of startled rapture. The rest have produced a pleasant evening. + +Burdened by years of success, Mr. Ziegfeld must be hampered by +innumerable rules about revue making. He has created tradition and +probably it rises up in front of him now and again to bark his shins. +The Follies is still an entertainment, but now it is also an +institution. Plan, premeditation and the note of service must all have +won their places in the making of each new show in the succession. The +critic will not depart in peace until he has seen somehow, somewhere an +altogether irresponsible revue. It will be produced not by Edward Royce +but by spontaneous combustion. Some of it will be terrible. Few of the +costumes will fit and many of them will be in bad taste. None of the +tunes will be hummed by the audience as it leaves the theater. But, +nevertheless and notwithstanding, this irresponsible revue of which I +speak is going to contain two good jokes. + +I had at least a glimmer of hope that _Shuffle Along_ might be the first +blow of the revolution against the well-made revue. Early explorers in +the Sixty-Second Street Music Hall came back glowing with discovery. +And yet after seeing the negro revue it seems to me that stout Cortes +and all his men were duped. In book and music and dancing _Shuffle +Along_ follows Broadway tradition just as closely as it can. It is rough +with old things which have crumbled and not with new things which are +unfinished. And yet it is easy to understand the thrill which swept +through some of the pioneers who were the first to see _Shuffle Along_. +In it there is one quality possessed by no other show which has been +seen in New York this year. Most musical comedy performers seem to be +altruists who are putting themselves out to a great extent in order to +please you and the other paying customers. _Shuffle Along_ is entirely +selfish. No matter how enthusiastic the audience, it cannot possibly get +as much fun out of the show as the performers. Not since the last trip +to New York of the Triangle Club have I seen the amateur spirit more +fully realized in the theater. Perhaps the performers get paid, but it +does not seem fitting. The more engaging theory is that each member of +the chorus of _Shuffle Along_ who keeps his work up at top pitch until +the end of the season receives a large blue sweater with a white "S. A." +on the front and is then allowed to break training. The ten best +performers, in addition, are tapped on the shoulder. There is a rumor +that social distinction as well as merit enters into this selection, but +it has never, to my knowledge, been confirmed. + +Of course, nothing in the remarks above is to be construed as implying +that people in the Ziegfeld choruses do not have a good time. Such a +statement would certainly be far from the facts. As somebody or other +has so aptly said, "It's great to be young and a Ziegfeld chorus girl." +The difference is that no Caucasian chorister, including the +Scandinavian, has the faculty of enjoying herself with the same +frankness and abandon as the African. Centuries of civilization and +weeks of training make it impossible. The Follies girl knows what she +likes, but she has been taught not to point. A certain reserve and +reticence is part of the Ziegfeld tradition. Even the most daring of Mr. +Ziegfeld's experiments in summer costuming are more esthetic than +erotic. Though the legs of the longest showgirl may be bare, one feels +that she is clothed in reverence. When the lights begin to dim, and the +soft music sounds to indicate that the current Ben Ali Haggin tableau is +about to be disclosed, I am always a little nervous. So solemn and +dignified is the entire atmosphere of the affair that I feel a little +like a Peeping Tom in the presence of Godiva and generally I cover my +eyes in order that they may be preserved for the final processional in +which one girl will be Coal, another Aviation and a third the Monroe +Doctrine. + +The parade is one of the traditions of the Follies. "When in doubt make +them march," is the way the rule reads in Mr. Ziegfeld's notebook. All +of which opens the way to the suggestion that Mr. Ziegfeld should try +the experiment some year of cutting about $100,000 out of his bill for +costumes and using the money to buy a joke. In that case the marching +chorus girls could pass a given point. + + + + +XIX + +AN ADJECTIVE A DAY + + +It was a child in Hans Christian Andersen's fairy tale who finally told +the truth by crying out, "He hasn't got anything on," as the king +marched through the streets clad only in the magic cloth woven and cut +by the swindling tailor. You may remember that everybody else kept +silent because the tailor had given out that the cloth was visible only +to such as were worthy of their position in life. The child knew nothing +of this and anyway he didn't have any position in life, so he piped up +and cried, "He hasn't got anything on." And though he was but a child +others took up the cry, and finally even the king was convinced and ran +to get his bathrobe. The tailor, as we remember the story, was executed. + +In course of time that child grew up, and married, and died leaving +heirs behind him. And they in turn were not so barren, so that to-day +vast numbers of his descendants are in the world. Nearly all of them are +critics of one sort or another, but mostly young critics. Like their +great ancestor they are frank and shrill, and either valiant or +foolhardy as you choose to look at it. Certainly they seldom hesitate to +rush in. No, there is no doubt at all that they are just a wee bit +hasty, these descendants of the child. It is rather useful that every +now and then one of them should point a finger of scorn at some falsely +great figure in the arts and cry out his nakedness at top voice. But +sometimes they make mistakes. It has happened not infrequently that +worthy and respectable artists and authors in great coats, close-fitting +sack suits, and heavy woolen underwear, have been greeted by some member +of the clan with the traditional cry, "He hasn't got anything on." + +This may be embarrassing as well as unfair. Ever since the child scored +his sensational critical success so many years ago, all his sons have +been eager to do likewise. They have inherited extraordinary suspicion +regarding the raiment of all great men. Even when they are forced to +admit that some particular king is actually clad in substantial +achievement of one sort or another, they are still apt to carp about the +fit and cut of his clothing. Almost always they maintain that he +borrowed his shoes from some one else and that he cannot fill them. + +In regard to humbler citizens they are apt to carry charity to great +lengths. In addition to the incident recorded by Andersen they cherish +another legend about the child. According to the tradition, he wrote a +will just before he died in which he said, "Thank heaven I leave not a +single adjective to any of my descendants. I have spent them all." + +The clan is notoriously extravagant. They live for all the world like +Bedouins of the Sahara without thought of the possibility of a rainy +day. Their gaudiest years come early in life. Middle age and beyond is +apt to be tragic. Almost nothing in the experience of mankind is quite +so heartrending as the spectacle of one of these young critics, grown +gray, coming face to face in his declining years with a masterpiece. At +such times he is apt to be seized with a tremor and stricken dumb. +Undoubtedly he is tormented with the memory of all the adjectives which +he flung away in his youth. They are gone beyond recall. He fumbles in +his purse and finds nothing except small change worn smooth. The best he +can do is to fling out a "highly creditable piece of work" and go on his +way. + +Still he has had fun for his adjectives for all that. There is a +compensating glow in the heart of the young critic when he remembers the +day an obscure author came to him asking bread, though rather expecting +a stone, and he with a flourish reached down into the breadbox and gave +the poor man layer cake. + +"After all," one of the young critics told me in justifying his mode of +life, "it may be just as tragic as you say to be caught late in life +with a masterpiece in front of you and not a single adequate adjective +left in your purse. Yes, I'll grant you that it's unfortunate. But +there's still another contingency which I mean to avoid. Wouldn't it be +a rotten sell to die with half your adjectives still unused? You know +you can't take them with you to heaven. Of what possible use would they +be up there? Even the bravest superlatives would seem pretty mean and +petty in that land. Think of being blessed with milk and honey for the +first time and trying to express your gratitude and wonder with, 'The +best I ever tasted.' No, sir. I'm going to get ready for the new eternal +words by using up all the old ones before I die." + + + + +XX + +THE UNKNOWN SOLDIER + + +They call him "the unknown hero." It is enough, it is better that we +should know him as "the unknown soldier." "Hero" suggests a superman and +implies somebody exalted above his fellows. This man was one of many. We +do not know what was in his heart when he died. It is entirely possible +that he was a fearful man. He may even have gone unwillingly into the +fight. That does not matter now. The important thing is that he was +alive and is dead. + +He was drawn from a far edge of the world by the war and in it he lost +even his identity. War may have been well enough in the days when it was +a game for heroes, but now it sweeps into the combat everything and +every man within a nation. The unknown soldier stands for us as symbol +of this blind and far-reaching fury of modern conflict. His death was in +vain unless it helps us to see that the whole world is our business. No +one is too great to be concerned with the affairs of mankind, and no one +too humble. + +The unknown soldier was a typical American and it is probable that once +upon a time he used to speak of faraway folk as "those foreigners." He +thought they were no kin of his, but he died in one of the distant +lands. His blood and the blood of all the world mingled in a common +stream. + +The body of the unknown soldier has come home, but his spirit will +wander with his brothers. There will be no rest for his soul until the +great democracy of death has been translated into the unity of life. + + + + +XXI + +A TORTOISE SHELL HOME + + +Every once in so often somebody gets up in a pulpit or on a platform and +declares that home life in America is being destroyed. The agent of +devastation varies. According to the mood of the man with forebodings, +it is the motion pictures, the new dances, bridge, or the comic +supplements in the Sunday newspapers. It seems to us that these +defenders of the home are themselves offensively solicitous. If we +happened to be a home, we rather think that we would resent the +overeagerness of our champions. They act as if the thing they seek to +preserve were so weak and pitiful that it must go down before the gust +of any new enthusiasm. + +After all, the home is much older than these dragons which are said to +be capable of devouring it. Least of all are we disposed to worry over +deadly effects from the new dances. This fear has recently been put into +vivid form by Hartley Manners in a play called "The National Anthem," in +which Laurette Taylor, his wife, was starred. Jazz, according to Mr. +Manners, is our anthem. The hero and the heroine of his play dance +themselves to the brink of perdition. The end is tragic, for the husband +dies and the wife narrowly escapes from the effects of poison which she +has taken by mistake while dazed from drink and dancing. + +This seems to us special and exceptional. A vice must be easy to be +universally dangerous. All the moralists assure us that descent by the +primrose path is facile. Skill in the new dances argues to us a certain +strength of character. We do not understand how any person of flabby +will can become proficient. In our own case we must confess that it is +not our strength and uprightness which has kept us from jazz, but such +traits as timidity and lack of application. As a boy we painstakingly +learned the two-step. For this we deserve no great credit. It was not +our wish, and only the vigorous application of parental influence +carried us through. After we broke away from the home ties we began to +back-slide. The dances changed from month to month and we lacked the +hardihood to keep up. Cravenly we quit and slumped into a job. + +None of our excuses can be made persuasive enough for exoneration. All +there is to be said for work as opposed to dancing is that it is so much +easier. Of course, our respect is infinite for the sturdy ones who have +gone through the flames of cleansing and perfecting fire and have earned +the right to step out upon the waxed floor. Few of them escape the marks +of their time of tribulation. Every close observer of American dancing +must have noted the set expression upon the face of all participants. +There is hardly one who might not serve as a model for General Grant +exclaiming: "I propose to fight it out on this line if it takes all +summer." + +No form of national activity begins to be so conscientious as dancing. +Up-to-date physicians, we understand, are beginning to prescribe it as +tonic and penance for patients growing slack in their attitude toward +life. At a cabaret recently a man pointed out a dancer in the middle of +the floor and said: "That woman in the bright red dress is fifty-six +years old." We were properly surprised, and he went on: "Her story is +interesting. Two years ago she went to a neurologist because of a +general physical and nervous breakdown. He said to her: 'Madam, the +trouble is that you are growing old, and, worse than that, you are ready +to admit it. You must fight against it. You must hold on to youth as if +it were a horizontal bar and chin yourself.'" + +We looked at the woman more closely and saw that she was obeying the +doctor's orders literally. Her fight was a gallant one. Dancing had +served to keep down her weight and improve her blood pressure, but there +was not the slightest suggestion that she was enjoying herself. She had +bought advice and she was intent upon using it. And as we looked over +the entire floor we could see no one who seemed to be dancing for the +fun of it. A few took a pardonable pride in their perfection of fancy +steps, but that emotion is not quite akin to joy. They were dancing for +exercise or prestige, or to fulfill social obligations. + +All this is admirable in its way, but we have not sufficient faith in +the persistence of human gallantry to believe that it can last forever. +The home will get every last one of the dancers yet because it is so +much easier to loaf in an easy-chair than to keep up the continual +bickering against old age, indolence, and the selfishness of comfort. + +Motion pictures may be more dangerous because we are informed that they +are still in their infancy. But perhaps the home is also. In spite of +the length of time during which it has been going on, its possibilities +of development are enormous. Within the memory of living man a home was +generally supposed to be a place where people sat and stared at each +other. Sometimes they visited neighbors, but these trips were +traditionally restricted to occasions upon which the friends were ill +and too helpless to carry on a conversation. If any one doubts that talk +is a recent development in home life, let him consider the musical +instruments of a generation which is gone. Take the spinnet, for +instance, and note that even the most carefully modulated whisper would +have drowned out its feeble tinkle. + +To be sure, our ancestors had books and a few magazines, but they were +not of a sort to promote general conversation. Only the grown-ups were +capable of exchanging their views on Mr. Thackeray's latest novel. But +now, when the group returns from an evening at the motion-picture +theater where "The Kid" or "Shoulder Arms" is being shown, it is +impossible to keep anybody out of the discussion on account of his lack +of years. Little Ferdinand has just as much right to an opinion about +the prowess of Charlie Chaplin as grandpa, and, according to our +observation, it is a right almost certain to be exercised. + +Of course, before we began this discussion of the decay of home life we +should have set about coming to some definition acceptable to both sides +of the controversy. Now, when it is too late to do anything about it, we +are struck by the fact that we are probably talking at cross purposes. +It is our contention that man is not less than the turtle. We think it +is entirely possible for him to carry his home life around with him. It +would not seem to us, for instance, that home life was impaired if the +family took in the movies now and again or even very frequently. Nor are +we willing to accept a bridge party down the street as something alien +and outside. In other words, a man's home (and, of course, we mean a +woman's home as well) ought not to be defined by the walls of his house +or even by the fences of the front yard. The anti-suffragists once had +the slogan "Woman's place is in the home," but what they really meant +was "in the house," since they used to insist that the business of +voting would take her out of it. It seems to us that the woman of to-day +should have a home with limits at least as spacious as those of the +whole world. And so naturally she ought to have her share in all the +concerns of life. + + + + +XXII + +I'D DIE FOR DEAR OLD RUTGERS + + +"He fought the last twenty rounds with a broken hand." "The final +quarter was played on sheer nerve, for an examination at the end of the +game showed that his backbone was shattered and both legs smashed." +"Although knocked senseless in the opening chukker, he finished the +match and no one realized his predicament until he confessed to his team +mates in the clubhouse." + +These are, of course, incidents common enough in the life of any of our +sporting heroes. To a true American sportsman a set of tennis is held in +about the same esteem as a popular playwright holds a woman's honor. +There is no point at which "I give up" can be sanctioned. Not only must +the amateur athlete sell his life dearly, but he must keep on selling it +until he is carried off the field. Accordingly, it is easy to understand +why Forest Hills seethed with indignation when Mlle. Suzanne Lenglen +walked (she could still walk, mind you) over to an official in the +middle of a tennis match and announced that she was ill and would not +continue. It was quite obvious to all that the Frenchwoman was still +alive and breathing and the thing was shocking heresy. + +The writer is not disposed to defend Suzanne's heresy to the full. He +believes that Mlle. Lenglen was ill, but he feels that she erred, not +because she resigned, but because she did it with so little grace. She +seemed to have no appreciation of the hardship which the sudden +termination of the match imposed upon Mrs. Molla Bjurstedt Mallory. +However, Molla did and came off the court swearing. + +It was an embarrassing moment, but possibly a moral can be dug from it +all the same. For the first time in the experience of many, a new sort +of athletic tradition was vividly presented. No one will deny that the +French knew the gesture of Thermopylae as well as the next one, but they +have never thought to associate it with sports. The gorgeous and gallant +Carpentier has, upon occasions in his ring career, resigned. He showed +no lack of nerve on these occasions, but merely followed a line of +conduct which is foreign to us. Pitted at those particular times against +men who were too heavy for him and facing certain defeat, he admitted +their superiority somewhat before the inevitable end. Like a chess +master, he sensed the fact that victory was no longer in the balance, +and that nothing remained to be done except some mopping up. Such +perfunctory and merely academic action did not seem to him to come +properly within the realm of sport, particularly if he was to be the man +mopped up. + +American sport commentators who knew these facts in the record of +Carpentier were disposed to announce before his match with Dempsey that +he would most certainly seek to avoid a knockout by stopping as soon as +he was hurt. His astounding courage surprised them. And yet it was +exactly the sort of courage they should have expected. He did not fight +on through gruelling punishment just for the sake of being a martyr. He +went through it because up to the very end he believed that his great +right hand punch might win for him, and even at the last Carpentier was +still swinging. + +In spite of the sentimental objections of the old-fashioned follower of +sports, the tradition which was bred out of Sparta by Anglo-Saxon has +begun to decay. Referees do step in and end unequal contests. Ring +followers themselves are known to cry, "Stop the fight" at times when +the match has become no longer a contest. "Mollycoddles!" shriek the +ghosts of the bareknuckle days who float over the ring, but we do not +heed their voices. Again, we have decreasing patience with the severely +injured football player who struggles against the restraining arms of +the coaches when they would take him out because of his disabilities. +To-day he is less a hero than a rather dramatically self-conscious young +man who puts a gesture above the success of his team. + +There is still ground for the modification of a sporting tradition which +has made those things which we call games become at moments ordeals +having no relation to sport. Losing is still considered such a serious +business that an elaborate ritual has been built up as to what +constitutes good losing. We not only demand that a man shall die, if +need be, for the Lawn Tennis Championship of Eastern Rhode Island, but +we go so far as to prescribe the exact manner in which he shall die. A +set, silent and determined demeanor is generally favored. + +From Japan have come hints of something better in this direction. Every +American engaged in sport should be required to spend an afternoon in +watching Zenzo Shimidzu of the Japanese Davis Cup team. Shimidzu's +contribution to sport is the revelation that a man may try hard and yet +have lots of fun even when things go against him. He seems to reserve +his most winning smile for his losing shots. Once in his match against +Bill Johnston he was within a point of set and down from the sky a high +short lob was descending. Shimidzu was ready for what seemed a certain +kill. He was as eager as an avenging sparrow. Back came his racquet and +down it swung upon the ball, only to drive it a foot out of court. +Immediately, the little man burst into a silent gale of merriment. The +fact that he had a set within his grasp and had thrown it away seemed to +him almost the funniest thing which had ever happened to him. + +Of course, this is a manner which might be difficult for us Americans to +acquire. Unlike the Japanese we have only a limited sense of humor. Its +limits end for the most part with things which happen to other people. +We laugh at the pictures in which we see Happy Hooligan being kicked by +the mule, but we would not be able to laugh if we ourselves met the same +mule under similar circumstances. However, in an effort to popularize +the light and easy demeanor in sporting competition it is fair to point +out that it is not only a beautiful thing but that it is also +effective. + +Shimidzu almost beat Tilden by the very fact that he refused to do +anything but smile when things went against him. The tall American would +smash a ball to a far corner of the court for what seemed a certain +kill, but the little man would leap across the turf and send it back. +And as he stroked the ball he smiled. It was discouraging enough for +Tilden to be pitted against a Gibraltar, but it seemed still more +hopeless from the fact that even when he managed to split the rock it +broke only into the broadest of grins. + +Ten years of work by one of our most prominent editors for a war with +Japan were swept away by the Davis Cup matches. It is hard to understand +how there can be any race problem concerning a people with so excellent +a backhand and so genial a disposition. Indeed, many of the things which +our friends from California have told us about Japan did not seem to be +so. All of us have heard endlessly about the rapidity with which the +Japanese increase. There was no proof of it at Forest Hills. When the +doubles match started there were on one side of the net two Japanese. +When the match ended, almost four hours later, there was still just two +Japanese. + + + + +XXIII + +ARE EDITORS PEOPLE? + + +One of the characters in "A Prince There Was" is the editor of a +magazine and, curiously enough, he has been made the hero of the film. +Of course, there may be something to be said for editors. Indeed, we +have heard them trying to say it, and yet they remain among the forces +of darkness and of mystery. By every rule of logic the editor in any +story ought to be the villain. + +It is not the darkness so much as the mystery which disturbs us. Only +rarely have we been able to understand what an editor was talking about. +Sometimes we have suspected that neither of us did. There was, for +instance, the man who tapped upon his flat-topped desk and said with +great precision and deliberation, "When you are writing for _Blank's +Magazine_, you want to remember that _Blank's_ is a magazine which is +read at five o'clock in the afternoon." + +He was our first editor. Disillusion had not yet set in. We still +believed in Santa Claus and sanctums. And so we took home with us the +advice about five o'clock and pondered. We remembered it perfectly, but +that was not much good. "_Blank's_ is a magazine which is read at five +o'clock in the afternoon." How were we to interpret this declaration of +a principle? It was beyond our powers to write with ladyfingers. +Possibly the editor meant that our style needed a little more lemon in +it. There could be no complaint, we felt sure, against the sugar. Ten +years of hard service on a New York morning newspaper had granulated us +pretty thoroughly. + +Having made up our mind that a slight increase in the acid content per +column might enable us to qualify with the editor as a man who could +write for five o'clock in the afternoon, we were suddenly confronted +with a new problem. _Blank's_ was an international magazine. Did the +editor mean five o'clock by London or San Francisco time? Until we knew +the answer there was no good running our head against rejection slips. +There was no way to tell whether he would like an essay entitled "On +Pipe Smoking Before Breakfast in Surrey," or whether he would prefer a +little something on "Is the Garden of Eden Mentioned in the Bible +Actually California?" Naturally, if one were writing with San +Francisco's five o'clock in mind he would go on to make some comparison +between Los Angeles and the serpent. + +After extended deliberation, we decided that perhaps it would be best +not to try to write for _Blank's_ at all. It might put a strain upon the +versatility of a young man too hard for him to bear. Suppose, for +instance, he worked faithfully and molded his style to meet all the +demands and requirements of five o'clock in the afternoon, and then +suppose just as he was in the middle of a long novel, daylight saving +should be introduced? His art would then be exactly one hour off and he +would be obliged to turn back his hands along with those of the clock. + +Of course, even though you understand an editor you may not agree with +him. The makers of magazines incline a little to dogma. Give a man a +swivel chair and he will begin to lean back and tell you what the public +wants. Gazing through his window over the throng of Broadway, a faraway +look will come into his eyes and he will begin to speak very earnestly +about the farmer in Iowa. The farmer in Iowa is enormously convenient to +editors. He is as handy as a rejection slip. In refusing manuscripts +which he doesn't want to take, an editor almost invariably blames it on +some distant subscriber. "I like this very much myself," he will +explain. "It's great stuff. I wish I could use it. That part about the +bobbed hair is a scream. But none of it would mean anything to the +farmer in Iowa. Won't you show me something again that isn't quite so +sophisticated?" + +Riding through Iowa, we always make it a point to shake our fist at the +landscape. And if by any chance the train passes a farmer we try to hit +him with some handy missile. And why not? He kept us out of print. At +least they said he did. + +And yet though editors are invariably doleful about the capacity of the +farmer in Iowa and points west, it would be quite inaccurate to suggest +any fundamental pessimism. An editor is always optimistic, particularly +when a contributor asks for his check. But it really is a sincere and +deep grained hopefulness. No editor could live from day to day without +the faculty or arguing himself into the belief that the next number of +his magazine is not going to be quite so bad as the last one. + +Unfortunately he is not content to be a solitary tippler in good cheer. +He feels that it is his duty to discover authors and inspirit them. +Indeed, the average editor cannot escape feeling that telling a writer +to do something is almost the same thing as performing it himself. + +The editorial mind, so called, is afflicted with the King Cole complex. +Types subject to this delusion are apt to believe that all they need do +to get a thing is to call for it. You may remember that King Cole called +for his bowl just as if there were no such thing as a Volstead +amendment. "What we want is humor," says an editor, and he expects the +unfortunate author to trot around the corner and come back with a quart +of quips. + +An editor would classify "What we want is humor" as a piece of +cooperation on his part. It seems to him a perfect division of labor. +After all, nothing remains for the author to do except to write. + +Sometimes the mogul of a magazine will be even more specific. We +confessed to an editor once that we were not very fertile in ideas, and +he said, "Never mind, I'll think up something for you." + +"Let me see," he continued, and crinkled his brow in that profound way +which editors have. Suddenly the wrinkles vanished and his face lighted +up. "That's it," he cried. "I want you to go and do us a series +something like Mr. Dooley." He leaned back and fairly beamed +satisfaction. He had done his best to make a humorist out of us. If +failure followed it could only be because of shortsightedness and +stubbornness on our part. We had our assignment. + + + + +XXIV + +WE HAVE WITH US THIS EVENING---- + + +We have always wondered just what it is which frightens the after dinner +speaker. He is protected by tradition, the Christian religion and the +game laws. And yet he trembles. Perhaps he knows that he is going to be +terrible, but it is common knowledge that after dinner speakers seldom +reform. The life gets them. It was thought, once upon a time, that the +practice was in some way connected with alcoholic stimulation, but this +has since been disproved. After dinner speaking is a separate vice. +Total abstainers from every other evil practice are not immune. + +The chief fault is that an irrationally inverted formula has come into +being. The after dinner speaker almost invariably begins with his +apology. He is generally becomingly frank when he first gets to his +feet. There is always a confident prophecy that the audience is not +going to be very much interested in what he has to say and the admission +that he is pretty sure to do the job badly. Unfortunately, no speaker +ever succeeds in deterring himself by these forebodings of disaster. He +never fails to go on and prove the truth of his own estimate of +inefficiency. + +Many men profess to find the greatest difficulty in getting to their +feet. Perhaps this is sincere, but the task does not seem to be +one-sixteenth as hard as sitting down again. People whose vision is +perfect in every other respect suffer from a curious astigmatism which +prevents them from recognizing a stopping point when they come to it. We +suggest to some ingenious inventor that he devise a combination of time +clock and trip hammer by which a dull, blunt instrument shall be +liberated at the end of five minutes so that it may fall with great +force, killing the after dinner speaker and amusing the spectators. The +mechanical difficulties might be great, but the machine would be even +more useful if it could be attuned in some way so that the hammer should +fall, if necessary, before the expiration of the five minutes, the +instant the speaker said, "That reminds me of the story about the two +Irishmen." + +Funny stories are endurable, in moderation, if only the teller is +perfectly frank in introducing them for their own sake and not +pretending that they have any conceivable relationship to the endowment +fund of Wellesley College, or the present condition of the silk business +in America. To such length has hypocrisy gone, that there is now at +large and dining out, a gentleman who makes a practice of kicking the +leg of the table and then remarking, "Doesn't that sound like a +cannon?--Speaking of cannon, that reminds me----" + +Another young man of our own acquaintance has been using the same +anecdote for all sorts of occasions for the last four years. His story +concerns an American soldier who drove a four-mule team past the first +line trench in the darkness and started rumbling along an old road that +led across no-man's-land. He had gone a few yards when a doughboy jumped +up out of a listening post and began to signal to him. "What's the +matter?" shouted the driver. + +"Shush! Shush!" hissed the outpost with great terror and intensity. +"You're driving right toward the German lines. For Heaven's sake go back +and don't speak above a whisper." + +"Whisper, Hell!" roared the driver. "I've got to turn four mules +around." + +It may be that there actually was such an outpost and such a driver, but +neither had any intention of acting as a perpetual symbol and yet we +know positively that this particular story has been introduced as an +argument for buying another Liberty Bond of the fourth issue; as a +justification for the vehemence of the American novelists of the younger +generation; and as a reason for the tendency to overstatement in the +dramatic and literary criticism of New York newspapers. We are also +under the impression that it was used in a debate concerning the +propriety of a motion picture censorship in New York state. + +Indeed the speaker whom we have in mind never failed to use the mule +story, no matter what the nature of the occasion, unless he substituted +the one about the man who wanted to go to Seville. He was a farmer, this +man, and he lived some few miles away from Seville in a little +ramshackle farm house. It had been his ambition of a lifetime to go to +Seville and upon one particular morning he came out of the house +carrying a suitcase. + +"Where are you going?" asked his wife. + +"To Seville," replied the farmer. + +His wife was a very pious woman and she added by way of correction, "You +mean, God willing." + +"No," objected the farmer, dogmatically, "I mean I'm going to Seville." + +Now Heaven was angered by this impiety and the dogmatic farmer was +immediately transformed into a frog. Before the very eyes of his wife he +lost his mortal form and hopped with a great splash into the big pond +behind the house. To that pond the good woman went every day for a year +and prayed that her husband should be restored to his natural form. On +the first morning of the second year the big frog began to grow bigger +and bigger and suddenly he was no longer a frog but a man. Out of the +pond he leaped and ran straightaway into the house. He came out carrying +a suitcase. + +"Where are you going?" exclaimed the startled wife. + +"To Seville," said the farmer. + +"You mean," his wife implored in abject terror, "God willing." + +"No," answered the farmer, "to Seville or back to the frog pond!" + +The young man of whom we are writing first heard the story from Major +General Robert Lee Bullard in a training school in Lyons. The doughty +warrior told it in reply to the question, "What is this offensive spirit +of which you've been telling us?" But with a sea change the story took +up many other and varied roles. It served as the climax of an eloquent +speech in favor of the release of political prisoners; it began an +address urging greater originality upon the dramatists of America and it +was conscripted at a luncheon to Hughie Jennings to explain the +speaker's interpretation of the fundamental reason for the victory of +the New York Giants over the Yankees in the world's series of last +season. + +Speaking of baseball, a great football coach once said that he could +develop a championship eleven any time at all out of good material and +seven simple plays well learned. Likewise, an after-dinner speaker can +manage tolerably well with a limited supply of stories, if only they are +elastic enough in interpretation and he covers a sufficiently wide range +of territory in his dining rambles. + +It is our experience that the most inveterate story tellers among public +speakers are ministers. Unfortunately, the average clergyman has a +tendency to select tales a little rowdy in an effort to set himself down +among his listeners as a fellow member in good standing of the +fraternity of Adam. Still more unfortunately the ministerial speaker +often attempts to modify and deodorize the anecdote a little and, on top +of that, gets it just a little wrong. No matter who the narrator may be, +nothing is quite so ghastly as the improper story when told to an +audience of more than ten or eleven listeners. Even more than a poetic +drama a purple story needs a group, small and select. Any one interested +in preserving impropriety might very well endow a chain of thimble +theaters with a maximum seating capacity of ten. Some such step is +needed or the off color yarn will disappear entirely from American life. +It was nurtured upon big mirrors and brass rails and, these being +lacking, there is no proper atmosphere in which it may suitably be +reared. Most certainly the anecdote of doubtful character does not +belong to large banquets even of visiting Elks. Literature of this sort +is fragile. It represents what the Freudians call an escape, and the +most brazen of us is a little shamefaced about taking off his +inhibitions in front of a hundred people, mostly strangers. + +There must be something wrong with after-dinner speaking because it is +notoriously the lowest form of American oratory. It if were not for +Chauncey M. Depew whole generations in this country would have been born +and lived and died without once having any memory worth preserving after +the demitasse. The trouble, we think, is that dinner guests are much too +friendly. It is the custom that the man at the speakers' table may not +be heckled. He is privileged and privilege has made him dull. According +to our observation there is never anything of interest said with the +laying of cornerstones or the dedication of new high school buildings. +On the other hand, we have frequently been amused and excited by tilts +at political conventions and mass meetings. + +William Jennings Bryan is among the prize bores of the world when he +gets up to do his canned material about _The Prince of Peace_, but no +sensitive soul can fail to admire this same Commoner if he has ever had +the privilege of hearing him talk down political foes upon the floor of +a convention. All the labored tricks of oratory are forgotten then. Give +Mr. Bryan some one at whom he may with propriety shake a finger and he +becomes direct, vivid and moving. + +Colonel Theodore Roosevelt was a speaker of somewhat the same type. He +did not talk well unless there was some living and present person for +him to speak against. Upon one occasion we heard him make a particularly +dreary discourse, and incidentally a political one, until he came to a +point where a group in the audience took exception to some statement and +attempted to howl him down. It was like the touch of a whip on the +flanks of a stake horse. Roosevelt returned to the statement and said it +over again, only this time he said it much more dogmatically and twice +as well. Before that speech was done he had climbed to the top of a +table and was putting all his back and shoulders into every word. Even +his platitudes seemed to be knockout blows. He was inspiring. He was +magnificent. + +The after-dinner speaker needs this same stimulus of emotion. He ought +to have something into which he can get his teeth. Every well conducted +banquet should include a special committee to heckle the guests of +honor. Even a dreary person might be aroused to fervor if his opening +sentence was met with a mocking roar of, "Is that so!" Loud cries of +"Make him sit down" would undoubtedly serve to make the speaker forget +his entire stock of anecdotes about Pat and Mike. There would be no calm +in which he could be reminded of anything except that certain +desperadoes were not willing to listen, and that, by the Old Harry, he +was going to give it to them so hot and heavy that they would have to. + +The scheme may sound a little cruel, but we ought to face the fact that +a time has come when we must choose between cutting off the heads of our +after-dinner speakers or slapping them in the face. We believe that they +deserve to have a chance to show us whether or not they have a right to +live. + + + + +XXV + +THE YOUNG PESSIMISTS + + +Bert Williams used to tell a story about a man on a lonely road at night +who suddenly saw a ghost come out of the forest and begin to follow him. +The man walked faster and the ghost increased his pace. Then the man +broke into a run with the ghost right on his heels. Mile after mile, +faster and faster, they went until at last the man dropped at the side +of the road exhausted. The ghost perched beside him on a large rock and +boomed, "That was quite a run we had." "Yes" gasped the man, "and as +soon as I get my breath we're going to have another one." + +Our young American pessimists see man at the moment he drops beside the +road, and without further investigation decide that it is all up with +him. To be sure, they may not be very far wrong in the ultimate fate of +man, but at least they anticipate his end. They do not stick with him +until the finish; and this second-wind flight, however useless, is +something so characteristic of life that it belongs in the record. I +have at least a sneaking suspicion that now and again there happens +along a runner so staunch and courageous that he keeps up the fight +until cock-crow and thus escapes all the apparitions which would +overthrow him. Of course, it is a long shot and the young pessimists +are much too logical to wait for such miraculous chances. As a matter of +fact, they don't call themselves pessimists, but prefer to be known as +rationalists, realists, or some such name which carries with it the hint +of wisdom. + +And they are wise up to the very point of believing only the things they +have seen. However, I am not sure they are quite so wise when they go a +notch beyond this and assert roundly that everything which they have +seen is true. For my own part I don't believe that white rabbits are +actually born in high hats. The truth is quicker than the eye, but it is +hardly possible to make any person with fresh young sight believe that. +Question the validity of some character in a play or book by a young +rationalist and he will invariably reply, "Why she lived right in our +town," and he will upon request supply name, address, and telephone +number to confound the doubters. + +"Let the captious be sure they know their Emmas as well as I do before +they tell me how she would act," wrote Eugene O'Neill when somebody +objected that the heroine of "Diff'rent" was not true. This, of course, +shifts the scope of the inquiry to the question, "How well does O'Neill +know his Emmas?" Indeed, how well does any bitter-end rationalist know +anybody? Once upon a time we lived in a simple age in which when a man +said, "I'm going to kick you downstairs because I don't like you," and +then did it, there was not a shadow of doubt in the mind of the person +at the foot of the stairs that he had come upon an enemy. All that is +changed now. During the war, for instance, George Sylvester Viereck +wrote a book to prove that every time Roosevelt said, "Viereck is an +undesirable citizen," or words to that effect, he was simply dissembling +an admiration so great that it was shot through and through with +ambivalent outbursts of hatred. Mr. Viereck may not have proved his +case, but he did, at least, put his relations into debatable ground by +shifting from Philip conscious to Philip subconscious. + +In the new world of the psychoanalysts there is confusion for the +rationalist even though he is dealing with something so inferentially +logical as a science. For here, with all its tangible symbols, is a +science which deals with things which cannot be seen or heard or +touched. And much of all the truth in the world lies in just such dim +dominions. The pessimist is very apt to be stopped at the border. For +years he has reproached the optimist with the charge that he lived by +dreams rather than realities. Now, wise men have come forward to say +that the key to all the most important things in life lies in dreams. Of +course, the poets have known that for years, but nobody paid any +attention to them because they only felt it and offered no papers to the +medical journals. + +It would be unfair to suggest that no dreamer is a pessimist. The most +prolific period of pessimism comes at twenty-one, or thereabouts, when +the first attempt is made to translate dreams into reality, an attempt +by a person not over-skillful in either language. Often it is made in +college where a new freedom inspires a somewhat sudden and wholesale +attempt to put every vision to the test. Along about this time the young +man finds that the romanticists have lied to him about love and he +bounces all the way back to Strindberg. Maybe he gets drunk for the +first time and learns that every English author from Shakespeare to +Dickens has vastly overrated it for literary effect. He follows the +formulae of Falstaff and instead of achieving a roaring joviality he goes +to sleep. Personally tobacco sent me into a deep pessimism when I first +took it up in a serious way. Huck's corncob pipe had always seemed to me +one of the most persuasive symbols of true enjoyment. It seemed to me +that life could hold nothing more ideal than to float down the +Mississippi blowing rings. After six months of experimenting I was ready +to believe that maybe the Mississippi wasn't so much either. Romance +seemed pretty doubtful stuff. Around this time, also, the young man +generally discovers, in compulsory chapel, that the average minister is +a dull preacher; and of course that knocks all the theories of the +immortality of the soul right on the head. He may even have come to +college with a thirst for knowledge and a faith in its exciting quality, +only to have these emotions ooze away during the second month of +introductory lectures on anthropology. + +Accordingly, it is not surprising to find F. Scott Fitzgerald's Amory +Blaine looking at the towers of Princeton and musing: + + Here was a new generation, shouting the old cries, learning the old + creeds through a revery of long days and nights; destined finally + to go out into that dirty gray turmoil to follow love and pride; a + new generation dedicated more than the last to the fear of poverty + and the worship of success; grown up to find all Gods dead, all + wars fought; all faiths in man shaken.... + +Nobody wrote as well as that in Copeland's course at Harvard but there +was a pretty general agreement that life--or rather Life--was a sham and +a delusion. This was expressed in poems lamenting the fact that the +oceans and the mountains were going to go on and that the writer +wouldn't. + +Generally he didn't give the oceans or the mountains very long either. +All the short stories were about murder and madness. We cut our patterns +into very definite conclusions because we were pessimists and sure of +ourselves. It was the most logical of philosophies and disposed of all +loose ends. One of my pieces (to polish off a theme on the futility of +human wishes) was about a man who went stark raving, and Copeland sat in +his chair and groaned and moaned, which was his substitute for making +little marks in red ink. He had been reading Sheridan's "The Critic" to +the class with the scene in which the two faithless Spanish lovers and +the two nieces and the two uncles all try to kill each other at the same +time, and are thus thrown into the most terrific stalemate until the +author's ingenious contrivance of a beefeater who cries, "Drop your +weapons in the Queen's name." At any rate when I had finished the little +man ceased groaning and shook his head about my story of the man who +went mad. "Broun," he said, "try to solve your problems without recourse +to death, madness--or any other beefeater in the Queen's name." + +And it seems to me that the young pessimists, generally speaking, have +allowed themselves to be bound in a formula as tight as that which ever +afflicted any Pollyanna. It isn't the somberness with which they imbue +life which arouses our protest, so much as the regularity. They paint +life not only as a fake fight in which only one result is possible, but +they make it again and again the selfsame fight. + + + + +XXVI + +GLASS SLIPPERS BY THE GROSS + + +When Cinderella sat in the ashes she should have consoled herself with +the thought of the motion-picture rights. No young woman of our time has +had her adventures so ceaselessly celebrated in film and drama. Of +course, she generally goes by some other name. It might be "Miss Lulu +Bett," for instance. + +For our part, we must confess that much as we like Zona Gale's modern +and middle-western version of the old tale, Cinderella is beginning to +lose favor with us. Her appeal in the first place rested on the fact +that she was abused and neglected, but by this time the ashes have +become the skimpiest sort of interlude. You just know that the fairy +godmother is waiting in the wings, and you can hear the great coach +honking around the corner. Undoubtedly, the order for the glass slippers +was placed months in advance. More than likely it called for a gross, +since there are ever so many Cinderella feet to fit these days--what +with Peg and Kiki and Sally and Irene and all the authentic members of +the family. Indeed, for a time, Cinderella was spreading herself around +so lavishly in dramatic fiction that one sex was not enough to contain +her, and we had a Cinderella Man. All the usual perquisites were his +except the glass slipper. + +And now the time has come when the original poetic justice due to the +miss by the kitchen stove has quite worn off. Cinderella has been paid +in full, but how about her two ugly sisters? They have gone down the +ages without honor or rewards. Each time their aspirations are blighted. +Although eminently conscientious in fulfilling their social duties, it +has availed them nothing. We are determined not to welcome the story +again until it appears in a revised form. In the version which we favor, +Prince Charming will try the glass slipper upon Cinderella, and then +turn away without enthusiasm, remarking in cutting manner, "It is not a +fit. Your foot is much too small." One of the ugly sisters will be +sitting somewhat timidly in the background, and it will be to her the +Prince will turn, exclaiming rapturously: "A perfect number nine!" + +And they lived happily ever after. + +And while we are about it, a good many of the fairy stories can stand +revision. This Jack the Giant Killer has been permitted to go to +outrageous lengths. Between him and David, and a few others, the +impression has been spread broadcast that any large person is a perfect +setup for the first valiant little man who chooses to assail him with +sword or sling. We purpose organizing the Six Foot League to combat this +hostile propaganda. Elephants will be admitted, too, on account of the +unjust canard concerning their fear of mice. We and the elephants do not +intend to go on through life taking all sorts of nonsense from +whippersnappers. The success of Jack and all the other little men of +legend has undoubtedly been due to the chivalry of the big and strong. +Dragons have died cheerfully rather than take a mean advantage and slay +pestiferous and belligerent runts by spitting out a little fire. Why +doesn't somebody celebrate the heroism of these miscalled monsters who +have gone down with full steam in their boilers because they were +unwilling even to guard themselves against foemen so palpably out of +their class? + +Take St. George, for instance. Do you imagine for a minute that his +victory was honestly and fairly earned? British pluck and all the rest +of it had nothing to do with it. The dragon could have finished him off +in a second, but the huge and kindly animal was afflicted with an acute +sense of humor. Between paroxysms it is known to have remarked: "I shall +certainly die laughing." It could not resist the sight of St. George +swaggering up to the attack in full armor like an infuriated Ford +charging the Woolworth Building. And the strangest part of it all is +that the dragon did die laughing just as it had predicted. St. George +flung his sword exactly between a "ha" and a "ha." The tiny bit of steel +lodged in the windpipe like a fishbone, and before medical assistance +could be summoned the dragon was dead. Of course it was clever, but we +should hardly call it cricket. All the triumphs of the little men are of +much the same sort. Honest, slam-bang, line play has never entered into +their scheme of things. Their reputation rests on fakes and forward +passes. + +Then there was the wolf and Little Red Riding-Hood. The general +impression seems to be that the child's grandmother was a saintly old +lady and that the wolf was a beast. Let us dismiss this sentimental +conception and consider the facts squarely. Before meeting the wolf Red +Riding-Hood was the usual empty-headed flapper. She knew nothing of the +world. So flagrant was her innocence that it constituted a positive +menace to the community. The wolf changed all that. It gave Red +Riding-Hood a good scare and opened her eyes. After that encounter +nobody ever fooled Red Riding-Hood much. She positively abandoned her +practice of wandering around into cottages on the assumption that if +there was anybody in bed it must be her grandmother. + +The familiar story, somehow or other, has omitted to say that Miss Hood +eventually married the richest man in the village. Perhaps the old +narrator did not want to reveal the fact that on top of the what-not in +the palatial home there stood a silver frame, and upon the picture in +the frame was written: "Whatever measure of success I may have attained +I owe to you--Red Riding-Hood." And whose picture do you suppose it was? +Her grandmother? No. Her husband? Oh, no, indeed! It was the wolf. + + + + +XXVII + +A MODERN BEANSTALK + + +The legends of the world have been devised by timorous people. They +represent the desire of man, sloshing around in a world much too big for +him, to keep up his courage by whistling. He has pretended through these +tales that champions of his own kind would spring up to protect him. +"Let St. George do it," was a well known motto in the days of old. + +And we must insist again that such tales are false and pernicious +stimulants for the young. We intend to tell H. 3d that when Jack climbed +up the beanstalk the giant flicked him off with one finger. We want the +child to have some respect for size and to associate it with authority. +Otherwise we don't see how we can possibly prevail upon him to pay any +attention when we say, "Stop that." If he goes on with these fairy +stories he will merely measure us coolly for a slingshot. + +As a matter of fact, he doesn't pay any attention now. The time for +propaganda is already here. In our stories the ogre is going to receive +his due. Of course, we will add a moral. It would be wrong to lead the +boy to believe that brute force is the only effective power in the +world. Now and then a giant will be killed, but it will not be any easy +victory for one presumptuous champion with a magic sword. Instead we +will explain that little Jack was not killed when the giant flipped him +off the beanstalk. The huge finger struck him only a glancing blow. +Nevertheless, it took Jack a good many days to get well again. It was a +fine lesson for him. During his convalescence (naturally we will have to +think up a shorter word) he did a lot of thinking. As soon as he was up +and around he scoured the country for other boys and at last he managed +to recruit a band of fifty. The first dark night Jack climbed the +beanstalk again, but he took along the fifty. By a prearranged plan they +fell upon the giant from all sides and managed to bear him down and kill +him. We certainly are not going to admit that a giant can be opened by +anything less than Jacks or better. + +Following the account of the death of the giant will come the moral. We +will explain that Jack is small and weak and that there are great and +monstrous powers in the world which are too strong for him. But he need +not wait for the superman or the magic lamp or anything like that. He +must make common cause with his kind. At this point we shall probably +digress for a while to go into a brief but adequate exposition of the +League of Nations, municipal ownership, profit sharing and the single +tax. + +Dropping the serious side of the discussion, we shall add that even a +great broth of a man can be spoiled by too many cooks. There is no power +in the world great enough to resist the will of man if only he moves +against it valiantly--and in numbers. + +Maybe H. 3d will not like our version of "Jack and the Beanstalk" half +as well as the original. But we fear that when he grows up he is going +to find that there are still dragons and ogres and assorted monsters +roaming the world. We want him to be instrumental in killing them. We +don't want him to get clawed by going forward in foolishly overconfident +forays. + +There is the Tammany Tiger, for instance. Here and there a brave young +fellow rises up and says, "I'm going to kill the Tiger." Having read the +fairy stories, he thinks that the thing can be done by a little courage +mixed with magic. He paints REFORM on a banner, charges ahead before +anybody but the Tiger is ready and gets chewed up. + +This is sentimentally appealing, but it has been a singularly useless +system of ridding the city of the Tiger. I want H. 3d to know better and +to act not only more wisely but more successfully. Somewhere in the +story I plan to work in a paraphrase of something Emerson once said. +Jack's last words to his army just before climbing the beanstalk will +be, "If you strike a giant you must kill him." + + + + +XXVIII + +VOLSTEAD AND CONVERSATION + + +There is one argument in favor of Prohibition. It certainly helps to +make conversation on a railroad train. In the years before Volstead we +had ridden thousands of miles silently peering at the two strangers +across the smoking compartment and wondering how to get them talking. +The weather is overrated as a common starting point. It dies after a +sentence. + +Now we have a sure method. Begin with, "Well, this is certainly just the +day for a little shot of something," and you will find enough +conversation on hand to carry you across the continent. Indeed, nothing +but an ocean can stop it. + +Some day, of course, we are going to run into a stranger who will reply, +"Prohibition is now the national law of our land and I want you to know, +sir, that I intend to respect it." + +This has never happened yet. It makes us wonder how the drys get from +point to point. Either they stay at home, abstain from smoking or betray +their cause for the sake of friendliness. During two years of frequent +travel we have never yet met an advocate of Prohibition in a smoking +compartment. + +There was nothing but the most fiery opposition on the part of the man +who was going to Rochester. + +"It's making criminals out of us," he declared severely but with an ill +concealed joy at the thought of being at last, in ripe middle age, a +law-breaker. He carried us into Albany with tales of men who "never +touched a drop until they went and passed that there law." All these +belated roisterers he pictured as reeling in and out of his office under +the visible effects of illegal stimulation. He sought to create the +impression that he thought the condition terrible, but evidently it had +contributed a new and exciting factor to the wholesale fruit business. +Even the pre-Volstead drinkers he seemed to find not unworthy of his +concern. All of them used to take just one and stop. Now his life was +beset with roaring graybeards. + +Leaving Albany, the young man in the check suit took up the talk and +began a vivid account of recent experiences in Malone, N. Y., which he +identified as the strategic point in bootlegging activities. Opening on +a note of pathos, in which he wrung the hearts of his hearers by +recounting the amazingly low price of Scotch near the border, he +introduced a merrier mood by relating a conversation between two farmers +of the section which he had overheard. + +"What style of car have you got?" asked one of the men in the allegedly +veracious anecdote. + +"Twenty cases," replied the other laconically. + +According to the estimate of the narrator, a bootlegger passes through +Malone every eight minutes. He saw one take a turn into Main Street +careening along at fifty miles an hour and skid so dangerously that the +auto tipped, throwing a case of whiskey clear across the road. "He went +out of town making seventy," added the story teller. + +Invariably the bootlegger was the hero of his tales. These modern Robin +Hoods he pictured as little brothers to all the world except the revenue +officers. Once two revenooers caught one of the gallant company and were +about to proceed with him to Syracuse, toting along four telltale +barrels of rye. But they had gone only a short distance on their journey +when they were overtaken by two men in a motor truck escorting a +prisoner, heavily manacled, and ten barrels of whiskey. After a short +confab they agreed to relieve the revenuers of their prisoner and +deliver both miscreants to the proper authorities in Syracuse. The +gullible agents of the law gave up their man. + +"And," continued the rum romancer, "they never did show up at Syracuse +at all. That second crowd they weren't revenue men at all. They were +bootleggers." + +Indeed, the young man declared that in Northern New York there is a well +organized Bootleggers' Union, which pays all fines out of a common fund. +So great was his seeming admiration for the rum runners that we +suspected him of being himself a member in good standing, but soon we +were moved to identify him as a participant in a trade still more +sinister. An acquaintance came past the green curtain and inquired +eagerly, "Did you sell her?" + +"Twice," said the young man enthusiastically and without regard to our +look of horror as we were moved by circumstantial evidence to believe +him not only a white slaver but a dishonest one. + +"Yes," he continued. "I had my work cut out. You see he doesn't like +Nazimova." + +We were a little sorry to find that the young man was a motion picture +salesman. It made us fear that perhaps some of his bootlegging yarns had +been colored with the ready fiction of his business. Still it was +interesting to sit and learn that Niagara Falls got "Camille" for only +$300. + +The middle-aged man, the one with the large acquaintance among belated +drunkards, seemingly had little interest when the conversation turned +from bootlegging to the silver screen. We never did hear what business +"The Sheik" did in Albany because he was roaring at a skeptic about +cabbage. + +"I tell you," he shouted, "they got 110 tons off of every acre." + +Now we yield to no man in love of cabbage, but we should not find such +quantities appealing. It would compel corn beef commitments beyond the +point of comfort. + +The skeptic made some timid observation about onions. We did not catch +whether it was for or against. + +"Do you know," said the cabbage king, "that 75 per cent. of all the +onions in America are eaten by Jews?" He said it with rancor, whether +racial or vegetable we could not determine. To us it seemed an unusual +tribute to an ancient people. No other story of their executive capacity +had ever seemed to us quite so convincing. We marveled at the +extraordinary cooperation which could hold a habit so precisely to an +average easy to compute and remember. + +We were also moved to admiration for the census takers. Statistics seem +to us man's supreme triumph in solving the mysteries of a chaotic world. +Creation, of course, was divine, but even that did not involve +bookkeeping. + +For a time we considered abandoning our project to write a novel about a +newspaper man and his son and make it, instead, a pastoral about a hero +simple and sincere whose life was dedicated to the task of determining +the ultimate destination of every onion raised in America. Then, since +art ought to be international, we planned to widen the scope of the tale +and include Bermuda. This would enable us to develop a tropical love +interest and get a sex appeal into the story. We are not sure that a +book would have a wide sale on onions alone. + +Of course other vegetables might enter the story. There could be a +villain forever tempting the hero to abandon his career and go after +parsnips. Titles simply flooded our mind. We thought of "Desperate +Steaks," "Out of the Frying Pan" and "A Bed of Onions," although we had +a vague impression that W. L. George had done something of this sort in +one of his earlier novels. "Breath Control" we dismissed as too +frivolous. "Smothered" was too sensational. + +Eventually we abandoned the whole project. We feared that we might not +be up to the atmosphere of an onion novel. + +Still, the advertising might be very effective if the publisher could +be induced to bill the book under a great, flaring headline, "The Onion +Forever." + +But the train of thought was cut short when the demon vegetable +statistician got up and said, "If I could have just one wish in the +world, I'd choose a fruit farm between here and Lockport." Looking up to +see where "here" was, we observed the Rochester station. The trip had +seemed but a moment, and all because of Prohibition. + +By the way, did you know that 14.72 per cent, of all the potatoes raised +in America come from Maine? + + + + +XXIX + +LIFE, THE COPY CAT + + +Every evening when dusk comes in the Far West, little groups of men may +be observed leaving the various ranch houses and setting out on +horseback for the moving picture shows. They are cowboys and they are +intent on seeing Bill Hart in Western stuff. They want to be taken out +of the dull and dreary routine of the world in which they live. + +But somehow or other the films simply cannot get very far away from +life, no matter how hard or how fantastically they try. As we have +suggested, the cowboy who struts across the screen has no counterpart in +real life, but imitation is sure to bridge the gap. Young men from the +cattle country, after much gazing at Hart, will begin to be like him. +The styles which the cowboys are to wear next year will be dictated this +fall in Hollywood. + +It has generally been recognized that life has a trick of taking color +from literature. Once there were no flappers and then F. Scott +Fitzgerald wrote "This Side of Paradise" and created them in shoals. +Germany had a fearful time after the publication of Goethe's "Werther" +because striplings began to contract the habit of suicide through the +influence of the book and went about dying all over the place. And all +Scandinavia echoed with slamming doors for years just because Ibsen sent +Nora out into the night. In fact the lock on that door has never worked +very well since. When "Uncle Tom's Cabin" was written things came to +such a pass that a bloodhound couldn't see a cake of ice without jumping +on it and beginning to bay. + +If authors and dramatists can do so much with their limited public, +think of the potential power of the maker of films, who has his tens of +thousands to every single serf of the writing man. The films can make us +a new people and we rather think they are doing it. Fifteen years ago +Americans were contemptuous of all Latin races because of their habit of +talking with gestures. It was considered the part of patriotic dignity +to stand with your hands in your pockets and to leave all expression, if +any, to the voice alone. + +Watch an excited American to-day and you will find his gestures as +sweeping as those of any Frenchman. As soon as he is jarred in the +slightest degree out of calm he immediately begins to follow +subconscious promptings and behave like his favorite motion picture +actor. Nor does the resemblance end necessarily with mere externals. +Hiram Johnson, the senator from California, is reported to be the most +inveterate movie fan in America, and it is said that he never takes +action on a public question without first asking himself, "What would +Mary Pickford do under similar circumstances?" In other words the +senator's position on the proposal to increase the import tax on +nitrates may be traced directly to the fact that he spent the previous +evening watching "Little Lord Fauntleroy." + +Even the speaking actors, most contemptuous of all motion picture +critics, are slaves of the screen. At an audible drama in a theater the +other day we happened to see a young actor who had once given high +promise of achievement in what was then known as the legitimate. +Eventually he went into motion pictures, but now he was back for a short +engagement. We were shocked to observe that he tried to express every +line he uttered with his features and his hands regardless of the fact +that he had words to help him. He spoke the lines, but they seemed to +him merely incidental. We mean that when his part required him to say, +"It is exactly nineteen minutes after two," he tried to do it by +gestures and facial expression. This is a difficult feat, particularly +as most young players run a little fast or a little slow and are rather +in need of regulating. When the young man left the theater at the close +of the performance we sought him out and reproached him bitterly on the +ground of his bad acting. + +"Where do you get that stuff?" we asked. + +"In the movies," he admitted frankly enough. + +There was no dispute concerning facts. We merely could not agree on the +question of whether or not it was true that he had become a terrible +actor. Life came into the conversation. Something was said by somebody +(we can't remember which one of us originated it) about holding the +mirror up to nature. The actor maintained that everyday common folk +talked and acted exactly like characters in the movies whenever they +were stirred by emotion. We made a bet and it was to be decided by what +we observed in an hour's walk. At the southwest corner of Thirty-seventh +street and Third avenue, we came upon two men in an altercation. One had +already laid a menacing hand upon the coat collar of the other. We +crowded close. The smaller man tried to shake himself loose from the +grip of his adversary. And he said, "Unhand me." He had met the movies +and he was theirs. + +The discrepancy in size between the two men was so great that my actor +friend stepped between them and asked, "What's all this row about?" The +big man answered: "He has spoken lightly of a woman's name." + +That was enough for us. We paid the bet and went away convinced of the +truth of the actor's boast that the movies have already bent life to +their will. At first it seemed to us deplorable, but the longer we +reflected on the matter the more compensations crept in. + +Somehow or other we remembered a tale of Kipling's called "The Finest +Story In The World," which dealt with a narrow-chested English clerk, +who, by some freak or other, remembered his past existences. There were +times when he could tell with extraordinary vividness his adventures on +a Roman galley and later on an expedition of the Norsemen to America. He +told all these things to a writer who was going to put them into a book, +but before much material had been supplied the clerk fell in love with a +girl in a tobacconist's and suddenly forgot all his previous +existences. Kipling explained that the lords of life and death simply +had to step in and close the doors of the past as soon as the young man +fell in love because love-making was once so much more glorious than now +that we would all be single if only we remembered. + +But love-making is likely to have its renaissance from now on since the +movies have come into our lives. Douglas Fairbanks is in a sense the +rival of every young man in America. And likewise no young woman can +hope to touch the fancy of a male unless she is in some ways more +fetching than Mary Pickford. In other words, pace has been provided for +lovers. For ten cents we can watch courtship being conducted by experts. +The young man who has been to the movies will be unable to avail himself +of the traditional ineptitude under such circumstances. Once upon a time +the manly thing to do was mumble and make a botch of it. The movies have +changed all that. Courtship will come to have a technique. A young man +will no more think of trying to propose without knowing how than he +would attempt a violin concert without ever having practiced. The +phantom rivals of the screen will be all about him. He must win to +himself something of their fire and gesture. Love-making is not going to +be as easy as it once was. Those who have already wed before the +competition grew so acute should consider themselves fortunate. Consider +for instance the swain who loves a lady who has been brought up on the +picture plays of Bill Hart. That young man who hopes to supplant the +shadow idol will have to be able to shoot Indians at all ranges from +four hundred yards up, and to ride one hundred thousand miles without +once forgetting to keep his face to the camera. + + + + +XXX + +THE ORTHODOX CHAMPION + + +The entire orthodox world owes a debt to Benny Leonard. In all the other +arts, philosophies, religions and what nots conservatism seems to be +crumbling before the attacks of the radicals. A stylist may generally be +identified to-day by his bloody nose. Even in Leonard's profession of +pugilism the correct method has often been discredited of late. + +It may be remembered that George Bernard Shaw announced before "the +battle of the century" that Carpentier ought to be a fifty to one +favorite in the betting. It was the technique of the Frenchman which +blinded Shaw to the truth. Every man in the world must be in some +respect a standpatter. The scope of heresy in Shaw stops short of the +prize ring. His radicalism is not sufficiently far reaching to crawl +through the ropes. When Carpentier knocked out Beckett with one +perfectly delivered punch he also jarred Shaw. He knocked him loose from +some of his cynical contempt for the conventions. Mr. Shaw might +continue to be in revolt against the well-made play, but he surrendered +his heart wholly to the properly executed punch. + +But Carpentier, the stylist, fell before Dempsey, the mauler, in spite +of the support of the intellectuals. It seemed once again that all the +rules were wrong. Benny Leonard remains the white hope of the orthodox. +In lightweight circles, at any rate, old-fashioned proprieties are still +effective. No performer in any art has ever been more correct than +Leonard. He follows closely all the best traditions of the past. His +left hand jab could stand without revision in any textbook. The manner +in which he feints, ducks, sidesteps and hooks is unimpeachable. The +crouch contributed by some of the modernists is not in the repertoire of +Leonard. He stands up straight like a gentleman and a champion and is +always ready to hit with either hand. + +His fight with Rocky Kansas at Madison Square Garden was advertised as +being for the lightweight championship of the world. As a matter of fact +much more than that was at stake. Spiritually, Saint-Saens, Brander +Matthews, Henry Arthur Jones, Kenyon Cox, and Henry Cabot Lodge were in +Benny Leonard's corner. His defeat would, by implication, have given +support to dissonance, dadaism, creative evolution and bolshevism. Rocky +Kansas does nothing according to rule. His fighting style is as formless +as the prose of Gertrude Stein. One finds a delightfully impromptu +quality in Rocky's boxing. Most of the blows which he tries are +experimental. There is no particular target. Like the young poet who +shot an arrow into the air, Rocky Kansas tosses off a right hand swing +every once and so often and hopes that it will land on somebody's jaw. + +But with the opening gong Rocky Kansas tore into Leonard. He was gauche +and inaccurate but terribly persistent. The champion jabbed him +repeatedly with a straight left which has always been considered the +proper thing to do under the circumstances. Somehow or other it did not +work. Leonard might as well have been trying to stand off a rhinoceros +with a feather duster. Kansas kept crowding him. In the first clinch +Benny's hair was rumpled and a moment later his nose began to bleed. The +incident was a shock to us. It gave us pause and inspired a sneaking +suspicion that perhaps there was something the matter with Tennyson +after all. Here were two young men in the ring and one was quite correct +in everything which he did and the other was all wrong. And the wrong +one was winning. All the enthusiastic Rocky Kansas partisans in the +gallery began to split infinitives to show their contempt for Benny +Leonard and all other stylists. Macaulay turned over twice in his grave +when Kansas began to lead with his right hand. + +But traditions are not to be despised. Form may be just as tough in +fiber as rebellion. Not all the steadfastness of the world belongs to +heretics. Even though his hair was mussed and his nose bleeding, Benny +continued faithful to the established order. At last his chance came. +The young child of nature who was challenging for the championship +dropped his guard and Leonard hooked a powerful and entirely orthodox +blow to the conventional point of the jaw. Down went Rocky Kansas. His +past life flashed before him during the nine seconds in which he +remained on the floor and he wished that he had been more faithful as a +child in heeding the advice of his boxing teacher. After all, the old +masters did know something. There is still a kick in style, and +tradition carries a nasty wallop. + + + + +XXXI + +WITH A STEIN ON THE TABLE + + +Half a League would be better than one. Perhaps a quarter section would +be still better. The thing that sank Mr. Wilson's project, so far as +America was concerned, was the machinery. It was too heavy. Not so much +was needed. The only essential thing was a large round table and a +pleasant room held under at least one year's lease. Of course, it should +have been the right sort of table. If they had put knives and forks and, +better yet, glasses upon the one in Paris, instead of ink and paper, we +might already have a better world. Beer and light wines can settle +subjects which defy all the subtleties possible to ink. + +What the world needs, then, is not so much a league as an international +beer night to be held at regular intervals by representatives of the +nations. Good beer and enough of it would have settled the whole problem +of the covenants which were going to be open and did not turn out that +way. The little meetings would have a persuasive privacy, and yet they +would not be secret to any destructive extent. An alert reporter hanging +about the front door could not fail to hear the strains of "He's a jolly +good fellow" drifting down the stairs from the conference room and, if +he were a journalist of any ability, he would have no difficulty in +surmising that the crowd was entertaining the delegate from Germany and +discussing indemnities. + +Some persons were not quite fair in criticizing the shortcomings of +President Wilson at Paris. It was easy to seize upon "open covenants" +and to demolish his sincerity by pointing out the secrecy with which +negotiations were carried on. It is sentimentally satisfying to every +liberal and radical in the world to declare that all the walls should +have come down and to continue this criticism by suggesting that the +Arms conference ought to have been taken out of the Pan American +Building and transferred to Tex Rickard's arena on Boyle's Thirty Acres, +or the Yale Bowl. The notion is fascinating because it permits the +possibility of cheering sections and enables one to picture Henry Cabot +Lodge leaping to his feet every now and again and asking all the men +with the R. R. banners (Reactionary Republicans) to join him in nine +long rahs for the freedom of the seas. The delegates, of course, would +be numbered so that the spectators could tell who was doing the kicking. + +It is appealing and we wish it could be done that way, but it is not +sound. We all know how bitter and destructive are legal battles which +have their first hearing in the newspapers. We also remember how +tenacious have been many of the struggles between capital and labor just +so long as the leaders of either side were talking to each other across +eight-column headlines instead of a table. + +One may counter by calling to mind various evil things which have come +to the world from the tops of tables, but we must insist again upon +stressing the point that these were not tables which supported food and +drink. In Paris various points were lost to democracy because the +supporters of the right were outstayed by the champions of evil. In our +little club room it would be hard to put such pressure upon anybody. He +would need to do no more than shout for the waiter to fill up his mug +again and intrench himself for the evening. The most attractive thing +about our suggestion is that though it sounds like frivolous foolery it +actually is nothing of the sort. We are willing to accept modifications, +but the scheme would work. We have seen the pacifying effects of food +and drink upon warring factions too many times not to respect them. + +Once, at a dinner we heard Max Eastman talk across a table to Judge Gary +and both enjoyed it. We do not mean to suggest that the two men arose +with all their previous ideas of the conduct of the world changed. Judge +Gary did not offer, in spite of the eloquence of Eastman, to curtail the +working day in the mills of the United States Steel Company, nor did the +editor of _The Liberator_ promise that thereafter he would be more +kindly disposed in writing about universal military training. But both +men were disposed to listen. Gary did not rush to the telephone to +summon a Federal attorney, and there was no disposition on the part of +Eastman to call the proletariat up into immediate arms. The most +friendly thing which anybody ever said about Mr. Wilson's League of +Nations came from those opponents of the scheme who called it "nothing +but a debating society." + +Talk is lint for the wounds of the world. The guns cannot begin until +the statesmen have had their say. Any device which provides a pleasant +place and an audience for the orators in power is distinctly a move to +end war. The trouble with ultimatums is not only that they are ugly but +that they are short. If certain gentlemen from Serbia could have been +brought face to face with other gentlemen from Austria and empowered to +thrash it out the dispute between the two nations would by no means be +settled by now, but it would still be in a talking stage. + +Arguments must be fostered and preserved. It may be a little tiresome to +hear premiers saying, "Is that so?" to one another, but the satisfaction +derived from such exchanges is enough to keep the conflicting parties +from seeking a blood restoration of national egos. Food and drink are +not only the greatest instigators but the best preservers of free speech +in the world. Undoubtedly everybody in his time has heard some +toastmaster or other insult a prominent citizen a few feet away in a +manner which would be unsafe on the public highway and nothing has +happened. It has been passed off as something wholly suitable to the +occasion. As we listened to Max Eastman talk across the table to Judge +Gary we wondered whether anybody would have even thought for a moment of +sending Debs to jail if he had only had the good fortune to talk from +behind a barricade of knives and forks. These are the ultimate and most +effective weapons of all peaceful men. With one of each in front of him +even a revolutionist may bare his heart and still be safe from the +bayonets of the military. + +Of course, the value of the weapons is not unknown to the conservatives +as well. Many a rampant reformer has gone to Washington and has seen his +ideals drown one by one before his eyes in the soup. For years England +managed to muddle along with Ireland by inviting nationalists out to +dinner. With the spread and development of civilization the price of +pottage has gone up. To-day we can afford to laugh at poor ignorant and +deluded Jacob who let his pottage go for a mess of birthright. + +In the light of these admissions it would be impossible to contend that +all the ills of the world could be solved by the device of international +beer nights. Even well fed men are not perfect. Alcohol is benign, but +it does not canonize. Schemes would go on even over demitasses. There +would be stratagems and surprises. And yet to our mind the stratagem, +even of a statesman, can never be so potent for harm in the world as the +stratagem of a general. Diplomacy is an evil game, chiefly because it +has been so exclusive. Our little club would be large enough to admit +all the delegates of the world. The only house rule would be "No checks +cashed." + +We have no idea that the heart of man is not more important than his +stomach. The world will not be made over more closely to the heart's +desire until we are of a better breed. But while we are waiting, +friendly talks about a table may count for something. We might manage to +swap a groaning world for a groaning board. There is sanction for hope +in the words of the song. We know, don't we, that it's always fair +weather when good fellows get together with a stein on the table. All +America needs, then, to make the world safer for democracy is the stein +and the good fellows. + + + + +XXXII + +ART FOR ARGUMENT'S SAKE + + +All editors are divided into two parts. In one group are those who think +that anybody who can make a good bomb can undoubtedly fashion a great +sonnet. The members of the other class believe that if a man loves his +country he is necessarily well fitted to be a book reviewer. + +As a matter of fact, new terminology is coming into the business of +criticism. A few years ago the critic who was displeased with a book +called it "sensational" or "sentimental" or something like that. To-day +he would voice his disapproval by writing "Pro-German" or "Bolshevist." +Authors are no longer evaluated in terms of aesthetics, but rather from +the point of view of political economy. Indeed, to-day we have hardly +such a thing as good writers and bad writers. They have become instead +either "sound" or "dangerous." A sound author is one with whose views +you are in agreement. + +So tightly are the lines drawn that the criticism of the leading members +of each side can be accurately predicted in advance. Show me the cover +of a war novel, and let me observe that it is called "The Great Folly," +and I will guarantee to foreshadow with a high degree of accuracy just +what the critic of The New York _Times_ will say about it and also the +critic of _The Liberator_. Even if it happened to be called "The Glory +of Shrapnel," the guessing would be just as easy. + +The manner in which anybody says anything now whether in prose, verse, +music or painting is entirely secondary in the minds of all critical +publications. Reviewers look for motives. Symphonies are dismissed as +seditious, and lyrics are closely scanned to see whether or not their +rhythms are calculated to upset the established order without due +recourse to the ballot. Nor has this particular reviewer any intention +of suggesting that such activity is entirely vain and fanciful. He +remembers that only a month ago he began a thrilling adventure story +called "The Lost Peach Pit," only to discover, when he was half through, +that it was a tract in favor of a higher import duty on potash. + +A vivid novel about the war by John Dos Passos has been issued under the +title "Three Soldiers." One of the chief characters was a creative +musician who broke under the rigor of army discipline which was +repugnant to him. Nobody who wrote about the book undertook to discuss +whether or not the author had painted a persuasive picture of the +struggle in the soul of a credible man. Instead they argued as to just +what proportion of men in the American army were discontented, and the +final critical verdict is being withheld until statistics are available +as to how many of them were musicians. Those who disliked the book did +not speak of Mr. Dos Passos as either a realist or a romanticist. They +simply called him a traitor and let it go at that. The enthusiasts on +the other side neglected to say anything about his style because they +needed the space to suggest that he ought to be the next candidate for +president from the Socialist party. + +Speaking as a native-born American (Brooklyn--1888) who once voted for a +Socialist for membership in the Board of Aldermen, the writer must admit +that he has found the radical solidarity of critical approval or dissent +more trying than that of the conservatives. Again and again he has +found, in _The Liberator_ and elsewhere, able young men, who ought to +know better, praising novels for no reason on earth except that they +were radical. If the novelist said that life in a middlewestern town was +dreary and evil he was bound to be praised by the socialist reviewers. +On the other hand, any author who found in this same middle west a +community or an individual not hopelessly stunted in mind and in morals, +was immediately scourged as a viciously sentimental observer who had +probably been one of the group which fixed upon the nomination of +President Harding late at night behind the locked doors of a little room +in a big hotel. + +The enthusiasm of the radical critics extends not only to rebels against +existing governmental principles and moral conventions, but to all those +who dare to write in any new manner. There seems to be a certain +confusion whereby free verse is held to be a movement in the direction +of free speech. + +Novels which begin in the middle and work first forward and then back, +win favor as blows against the bourgeois idea that a straight line is +the shortest distance between two points. Of course, the radical author +can do almost anything the conservative does and still retain the +admiration of his fellows by dint of a very small amount of tact. +Rhapsodies on love will be damned as sentimental if the author has been +injudicious enough to allow his characters to marry, but he can retain +exactly the same language if he is careful to add a footnote that +nothing is contemplated except the freest of free unions. A few works +are praised by both sides because each finds a different interpretation +for the same set of facts. Thus, the authors of "Dulcy" were surprised +to find themselves warmly greeted in one of the Socialist dailies as +young men who had struck a blow for government ownership of all +essential industries merely because they had introduced a big business +man into their play and, for the purposes of comic relief, had made him +a fool. + +Class consciousness has become so acute that it extends even beyond the +realms of literature and drama into the field of sports. The recent +"battle of the century" eventually simmered down into the minds of many +as a struggle between the forces of reaction and revolution. It was +known before the fight that Carpentier would wear a flowered silk +bathrobe into the ring, while Dempsey would be clad in an old red +sweater. How could symbolism be more perfect? Anybody who believed that +Carpentier's right would be good enough to win, was immediately set down +as a profiteer in munitions who would undoubtedly welcome the outbreak +of another war. Likewise it was unsafe to express the opinion that +Dempsey's infighting might be too much for the Frenchman, lest one be +identified with the little willful group of pacifists who impeded the +progress of the war. Eventually, the startling revelation was made by +the reporter of a morning newspaper that he had seen Carpentier smelling +a rose. After that, any belief in the invader's prowess laid whoever +expressed it open to the charge, not only of aristocracy, but of +degeneracy as well. After Dempsey's blows wore down his opponent and +defeated him, it was generally felt by his supporters that the +eight-hour day was safe, and that the open shop would never be generally +accepted in America. + +The only encouraging feature in the increasingly sharp feeling of class +consciousness among critics is a growing frankness. Reviewers are +willing to admit now that they think so and so's novel is an indifferent +piece of work because he speaks ill of conscription and they believe in +it. A year or so ago they would have pretended that they did not like it +because the author split some infinitives. + +One of the frankest writing men we ever met is the editor of a Socialist +newspaper. "Whenever there's a big strike," he explained to me, "I +always tell the man who goes out on the story, 'Never see a striker hit +a scab. Always see the scab hit the striker.'" + +"You see," he went on, "there are seven or eight other newspapers in +town who will see it just the other way and I've got to keep the balance +straight." + +There used to be a practice somewhat similar to this among baseball +umpires. Whenever the man behind the plate felt that he had called a +bad ball a strike, he would bide his time until the next good one came +over and that he would call a ball. The practice was known as "evening +up" and it is no longer considered efficient workmanship. That is, not +among umpires. The radical editor was not in the least abashed when I +quoted to him the remark of a man who said that he always read his paper +with great interest because he invariably found the editorial opinions +in the news and the news on the editorial page. "That's just what I'm +trying to do," he exclaimed delightedly. "I'm not trying to give the +people the news. I'm trying to make new Socialists every day." + +It is to be feared that even those writers who have the opportunity to +be more deliberate than the journalists have been struck with the idea +that by words they can shape the world a little closer to the heart's +desire. Throughout the war we were told so constantly that battles could +be decided and ships built and wars decided by the force of propaganda, +that every man with a portable typewriter in his suitcase began to think +of it as a baton. There was a day when a novelist was satisfied if he +could capture a little slice of life and get it between the covers of +his book. Now everybody writes to shake the world. The smell of +propaganda is unmistakable. + +With literature in its present state of mind critics cannot be expected +to watch and wait for the great American novel or the great American +play. Instead they look for the book which made the tariff possible, or +the play which ended the steel strike. + + + + +XXXIII + +NO 'RAHS FOR RAY + + +Richard Le Gallienne was lamenting, once, that he probably would never +be able to write a best-seller like Hall Caine or Marie Corelli. "It's +no use," he said. "You can't fake it. Bad writing is a gift." + +So is college spirit. That is why almost all the plays and motion +pictures about football games and hazing and such like are so fearfully +unconvincing. Nobody who is hired for money can possibly make the same +joyful ass of himself as a collegian under strictly amateur momentum. +Expense has not been spared, nor pains, in the building of "Two Minutes +To Go," with the delightful Charlie Ray, but it just isn't real. Films +may be faithful enough in depicting such trifling emotions as hate and +passion and mother-love, but the feeling which animates the freshman +when Yale has the ball on the three-yard line is something a little too +searing and sacred for the camera's eye. + +One of the difficulties of catching any of this spirit for play or for +picture is that there is no logical reason for its existence. Logic +won't touch it. The director and his entire staff would all have to be +inspired to be able to make a college picture actually glow. There is +not that much inspiration in all Hollywood. + +The partisanship of the big football games has always been to me one of +the most mystifying features in American life. It is all the more +mystifying from the fact that it grips me acutely twice a year when +Harvard plays Princeton, and again when we play Yale. I find no +difficulty in being neutral about Bates of Middlebury. It did not even +worry me much when Georgia scored a touchdown. The encounters with Yale +and Princeton are not games but ordeals. Of course, there is no sense to +it. A victory for Harvard or a defeat makes no striking difference in +the course of my life. My job goes on just the same and the servants +will stay, and there will be a furnace and food even if the Crimson is +defeated by many touchdowns. + +I never played on a Harvard eleven, nor even had a relative on any of +the teams. There was a second cousin on the scrub, but he was before my +time, and it cannot be that all my interest has been drummed up by his +career. I don't know the coaches nor the players. Yale and Princeton +have not wronged me. In fact, I once sold an article to a Yale man who +is now conducting a magazine in New York. Naturally it was on a neutral +subject, which happened to be the question of whether mothers were any +more skillful than fathers in handling children. Orange and black are +beautiful colors and "Old Nassau" is a stirring tune. Woodrow Wilson +meant well at Paris, and Big Bill Edwards was as pleasant-spoken a +collector of income taxes as I ever expect to meet. + +Yet all this is forgotten when the teams run out on to the gridiron. I +find myself yelling "Block that kick! Block that kick! Block that kick!" +or "Touchdown! Touchdown!" as if my heart would break. It is pretty +lucky that the old devil who bought Faust's soul has never come along +and tempted me in the middle of a football game. He could drive a good +bargain cheap. There have been times when for nothing more than a five +yard gain through the center of the line he could have had not only my +soul, but a third mortgage on the house. If he played me right he might +even get that recipe for making near beer closer. + +The strangest part of all this is that the emotions described are not +exceptional. A number of sane persons have assured me that they feel +just the same about the big games. One of my best friends in college was +always known to us as "the brother of the man who dropped the punt." The +man who actually committed that dire deed was not even mentioned. I +remember, also, a Harvard captain whose team lost and who horrified the +entire university by remarking at the team dinner a few weeks later that +he was always going to look back on the season with pleasure because he +thought that he and the rest of the players had had good fun, even +though they had lost to Yale. Naturally he was never allowed to return +to Cambridge after his graduation. His unfortunate remark came a few +years before the passage of the sedition law, but there was a militant +public opinion in the college fully capable of taking care of such +cases. + +Feeling, then, as I do, that there is no such poignant ordeal possible +to man as sitting through a tight Harvard-Yale game, any screen story +of football seems not only piffling but sacrilegious. In the Charlie Ray +picture, the two contending teams were Stanley and Baker. There were +views of the rival cheering sections and closer ones of Charlie Ray +running the length of the gridiron for a touchdown. This feat was made +somewhat easy for him by the fact that all the extra people engaged for +the picture seemed to have been instructed to slap him lightly above the +knee with the little finger of the right hand and then fall upon their +faces so that he might step over them. + +It was not this palpable artificiality which was the most potent factor +in bringing me into an extreme state of calm. A long Harvard run made +possible by the entire Yale team's being struck by lightning would seem +to me thoroughly satisfactory. The trouble with "Two Minutes To Go" was +that I never forgot for a moment that Charlie Ray was a motion picture +star instead of a halfback. Of course, you might object that I should +properly have the same feeling when seeing Ray in pictures where he is +engaged in altercations with holdup men and other scoundrels. That is +different. In such situations the stratagems of the films are amply +convincing, but in football nobody can possibly play the villain so +effectively as a Yaleman. We have often wondered how one university +could possibly corner the entire supply of treacherous and beetle-browed +humanity. + +The foemen lined up against Charlie Ray didn't begin to be fierce +enough. Nor did the rival groups of rooters serve any better to convince +me of their authenticity. It was quite evident that they were swayed by +no emotion other than that of a willingness to obey the orders of the +director. Football is too warm and passionate a thing to be reduced to +the flat dimensions of the screen. Battle, murder, sudden death and many +other things are done amply well in films. Football is different. Though +it injure the heart, increase the blood pressure and shorten life, only +the reality will do. + + + + +XXXIV + +"ATABOY!" + + +Thomas Burke has a cultivated taste for low life and he records his +delight in Limehouse so vividly that it is impossible to doubt his +sincerity. In his volume of essays called "Out and About London," he +spreads his enthusiasm over the entire "seven hundred square miles of +London, in which adventure is shyly lurking for those who will seek her +out." + +In the spreading there is at least ground for suspicion that here and +there authentic enthusiasm has worn a bit thin. It is no more than a +suspicion, for Burke is a skillful writer who can set an emotion to +galloping without showing the whip. Only when he comes to describe a +baseball game is the American reader prepared to assert roundly that +Burke is merely parading an enthusiasm which he does not feel. We could +not escape the impression that the English author felt that a baseball +game was the most primitive thing America had to offer and that he was +in duty bound to enthuse over this exhibition of human nature in the +raw. + +We have seen many Englishmen at baseball games. We have even attempted +to explain to a few visitors the fine points of the game, why John +McGraw spoke in so menacing a manner to the umpire or why Hughie +Jennings ate grass and shouted "Ee-Yah!" at the batter. Invariably the +Englishman has said that it was all very strange and all very +delightful. Never have we believed him. The very essence of nationality +lies in the fact that the other fellow's pastime invariably seems a +ridiculous affair. One may accept the cookery, the politics and the +religion of a foreign nation years before he will take an alien game to +his heart. We doubt whether it would be possible to teach an American to +say "Well played" in less than a couple of generations. + +Burke has no fears. Not only does he describe the game in a general way, +but he plunges boldly ahead in an effort to record American slang. The +title of the essay is well enough. Burke calls it "Atta-boy!" This is, +of course, authentic American slang. It meets all the requirements, +being in common use, having a definite meaning and affording a short cut +to the expression of this meaning. We can not quite accept the spelling. +There is, perhaps, room for controversy here. When the American army +first came to France the word attracted a good deal of attention and +some French philologists undertook to follow it to the source. One of +them quickly discovered that he was dealing not with a word but a +contracted phrase. We are of the opinion that thereafter he went astray, +for he declared that "Ataboy" was a contraction of "At her boy," and he +offered the freely translated substitute "Au travail garcon." + +It will be observed that Mr. Burke has given his attaboy a "t" too many. +"That's the boy" is the source of the word. Perhaps it would be more +accurately spelled if written "'at 'a boy." The single "a" is a neutral +vowel which has come to take the place of the missing "the." The same +process has occurred in the popular phrases "'ataswingin'" and +"'ataworkin'." These, however, have a lesser standing. "Ataboy" is +almost official. One of the American army trains which ran regularly +from Paris to Chaumont began as the Atterbury special, being named after +the general in charge of railroads. In a week it had become the Ataboy +special, and so it remained even in official orders. + +Some of the slang which Burke records as being observed at the game is +palpably inaccurate. Thus he reports hearing a rooter shout, "Take orf +that pitcher!" It is safe to assume that what the rooter actually said +was, "Ta-ake 'im out!" + +Again Burke writes, "An everlasting chorus, with reference to the +scoring board, chanted like an anthem--'Go-ing up! Go-ing up! Go-ing +up!'" + +Now, as a matter of fact, the "go-ing up!" did not refer to the scoring +board, but to the pitcher who must have been manifesting signs of losing +control. The shouts of baseball crowds are so closely standardized that +we think we have a right to view with a certain distrust such unfamiliar +snatches of slang as "He's pitching over a plate in heaven," or "Gimme +some barb' wire. I wanter knit a sweater for the barnacle on second," +and also, "Hey, catcher, quit the diamond, and lemme l'il brother teach +you." It is impossible for us to reconcile "lemme l'il brother" and +"quit the diamond." + +It must be said in justice to Burke that it is entirely possible that +he did hear some of the outlandish phrases which he has jotted down. +Among the dough-boys gathered for the game there may have been some +former college professor who had devoted the afternoon to convincing his +comrades that he was no highbrow, but a typical American. Such a theory +would account for "quit the diamond." + + + + +XXXV + +HOW TO WIN MONEY AT THE RACES---- + + +Perseverance, courage, acumen, unceasing vigilance, hard work and +application are all required of the man who would win money at the +races. He should also have some capital in easily marketable securities. + +During his preliminary days at the university, the man who would win +money on the races should specialize in science. It will be quite +impossible for him in his later career to tell whether his selection was +beaten by a nose or a head, unless he is absolutely familiar with the +bone structure of the horse (Equidoe), (Ungulate), (E. caballus). In +freshman zoology he will learn that, at the highest, the teeth number +forty-four, and that the horse as a domestic animal dates from +prehistoric times. This will serve to explain to him the character of +the entries in some of the selling races. + +Geology will make it possible for him to distinguish between +"track--slow" and "track--muddy." The romance languages need not be +avoided. French will enable the student to ask the price on Trompe La +Morte without recourse to the subterfuge of "What are you laying on the +top one?" In spite of the amount of science required, the young man +will find that he has small need of mathematics. A working knowledge of +subtraction will suffice. + +As has been well said in many a commencement address, college is not the +end but merely the beginning of education. The graduate should begin his +intensive preparation not later than twelve hours before going to the +track. He will find that the first edition of _The Morning Telegraph_ is +out by midnight. Hindoo's selections are generally on page eight. I have +never known the identity of Hindoo, but there is internal evidence +pointing toward President Harding. At any rate, Hindoo is a man who has +mastered the pre-election style of the President. His good will to all +horses, black, brown and bay, is boundless. + +In studying Mr. Hindoo's advice concerning the first race at Belmont +Park last week, I found, "Captain Alcock--Last race seems to give him +the edge." If I had gone no further, my mind might have been easy, but +in chancing to look down the column I noted, "Servitor--Well suited +under the conditions"; "Pen Rose--Plainly the one that is to be feared"; +"Bellsolar--May be heard from if up to her last race." On such minute +examination the edge of Captain Alcock seemed to grow more blunt. +"Neddam," I discovered, "will bear watching," and "Hobey Baker may +furnish the surprise." To a man of scientific training such conflicting +testimony is disturbing. What for instance would the world have thought +of the scholarship of Aristotle if, after declaring that the earth was +spherical, he had added that it might be well to have a good place +bet--at two to one--on its being flat. + +As happens all too often in the swing away from science, mere emotion +was allowed to rush in unimpeded. Turning to a publication called _The +Daily Running Horse_, I found the section dealing with the first race to +be run at Belmont Park and read, "Captain Alcock is a nice horse right +now." That settled it. All too seldom in this world does one find an +individual who has the edge and still refrains from slashing about with +it and cutting people. Captain Alcock was represented to us as "nice" in +spite of the fact that he was "in with a second rate lot," as _The Daily +Running Horse_ went on to state. Later it seemed to us that the boast +was in bad taste, but this factor, which we recognized immediately after +the running of the first race as groundless condescension, appeared at +the time a rather fetching sort of democracy. Captain Alcock was willing +to associate with second raters and didn't even mind admitting it. + +The price was eleven to ten, and after we made our bet the bookmaker +revised his figures down to nine to ten. There was a thrill in having +been a party to "hammering down the price." Soon we were to wish that +Captain Alcock had been much less nice. Away from the barrier he went on +his journey of a mile with a lead of two lengths. Next it was four and +then five. His heels threw dust upon the second raters. Around the turn +came Captain Alcock flaunting his edge in every stride. As they +straightened out into the stretch the man behind us remarked, "Captain +Alcock will win in a common canter." + +The Captain was content to do no such thing. Although in with second +raters he remained a nice horse and he was willing to do nothing common +even for the sake of victory. He began to ease up in order to become +companionable with the field. Evidently he had felt unduly conspicuous +so far in front. Winning in a common canter was not cricket to his mind. +He wanted to make a race of it while there was still time. And as the +speed and the lead of Captain Alcock abated, down the stretch from far +in the rear dashed the black mare Bellsolar. Suddenly I remembered the +ominous words of Hindoo, "May be heard from if up to her last race." +Evidently Bellsolar was up. Captain Alcock was carrying the business of +being nice much too far. Before he could do anything about it, Bellsolar +was at his shoulders. She did not stop for greeting, but dashed past and +won before the genial Captain could begin sprinting again. + +As a matter of fact, it was not until the next day that I appreciated +just how much wisdom had been contained in _The Daily Running Horse_, +advice which I had neglected. Turning back to the first race I found, +"Advised play--None, too tough." If the tipster had only kept up that +pace throughout the afternoon all his followers would be winners at the +track. + + + + +XXXVI + +ONE TOUCH OF SLAPSTICK + + +The Duchess in _Clair de Lune_ implored her gentleman friend to speak to +her roughly, using hedge and highroad talk. Theatrical managers have now +come to realize that many of us who may never hope to be duchesses are +still swayed by this back to the soil movement. The humor of musical +comedy grows more robust as the season wanes. It is broader, thicker +and, to my mind, funnier. Comedy, like Antaeus, must keep at least a +tiptoe on the earth. When the spirit of fun begins to sicken it is time +that he should be hit severely with a bladder. Having been knocked down, +he will rise refreshed. + +All of which is preliminary to the expression of the opinion that Jim +Barton, now playing at the Century, is the funniest clown who has +appeared in New York this season. Mr. Barton was discovered in a +burlesque show by some astute theatrical scout several seasons ago. +Burlesque was several rungs higher in the ladder than his starting +point, for his career included appearances in carnivals and the little +shows which ply up and down some of the rivers, giving nightly +performances on their boat whenever there is a cluster of light big +enough to indicate a village. Jim Barton has been trained, therefore, +in capturing the interest and attention of primitive and +unsophisticated theatergoers. This training has encouraged him in zest +and violence. It has impressed upon him the conception that the +fundamental appeal to all sorts of people and all sorts of intelligences +is rhythm. "When in doubt, dance" is his motto. + +Primarily he developed his dancing as something which should make people +laugh. It was, and is, full of stunts and grotesque movements and +surprising turns. But it has not remained just funny. Consciously or +unconsciously he knows, just as Charlie Chaplin knows, that funny things +must be savored with something else to capture interest completely. And +when you watch the antics of Barton and laugh there comes unexpectedly, +every now and then, a sudden tightening of the emotions as you realize +that some particular pose or movement is not funny at all, but a +gorgeously beautiful picture. For instance, when Barton begins his +skating dance the first reaction is one of amusement. There is a +recognizable burlesque of the traditional stunts of the man on ice, but +that is lost presently in the further realization that the thing is +amazingly skillful and graceful. Again he follows a Spanish dancer with +castanets and seems to depend upon nothing more than the easy laugh +accorded to the imitator, but as he goes on it isn't just a burlesque. +He has captured the whole spirit and rhythm of the dance. + +There is, perhaps, something of hypocrisy and swank in taking the +performance of Barton and seeming to imply, "Of course I like this man +because I see all sorts of things in his work that his old burlesque +audiences never recognized." It is dishonest, too, because as a matter +of fact I like exactly the same things which won his audiences in the +old Columbia circuit. I have never been able to steel myself against the +moment in which the comedian steps up behind the stout lady and slaps +her resoundingly between the shoulder blades. Jim Barton is particularly +good because he hits louder and harder than any other comedian I ever +saw. But even for this liking a defense is possible. The influx of +burlesque methods ought to have a thoroughly cleansing influence in +American musical comedy. More refined entertainment has often been +unpleasantly salacious, not because it was daring but because it was +cowardly. Familiar stories of the smoking car and the barroom have been +brought into Broadway theaters often enough, but in disguised form. They +have minced into the theater. The appeal created by this form of humor +has been never to the honest laugh but to the smirk. If I were a censor +I think I would allow a performer to say or do almost anything in the +theater if only he did it frankly and openly. The blue pencil ought to +be used only against furtive things. You may not like smut, but it is +never half so objectionable as shamefacedness. The best tonic I can +think of for the hangdog school of musical comedy to which we have fast +been drifting is the immediate importation to Broadway of fifty +comedians exactly like Jim Barton. Of course, the only trouble is that +the scouts would probably turn up with the report that there was not +even one. + +Still rumor is going about of at least one other. I am reliably +informed that Bobby Clark of _Peek-A-Boo_ is one of the funniest men of +the year. Unfortunately I am not in a position to make a first hand +report because on the night his show opened at the Columbia I was +watching _Mixed Marriage_ break into another theater, or attending a +revival of John Ferguson or something like that. + +Accordingly, I missed the scene in which Bobby Clark tries to put his +head into the lion's mouth. Clark must be a good comedian, because he +sounds funny even when you get him at second or third hand in the form, +"And then you see he says, 'You do it fine. You even smell like a lion. +Take off the head now and we'll get along.'" + +As it has been explained to me, Clark and the other comedian are hired +by a circus because the trained lion has suddenly become too ill to +perform. Clark's partner is to put on a lion's skin and pretend to be a +lion while Clark goes through the usual stunts of the trainer, including +the feat of putting his head into the lion's mouth. At the last minute +the lion recovers and is wheeled out on to the stage in a big cage. +Clark believes the animal is his partner in disguise and compliments him +warmly on the manner in which he roars. Finally, however, he becomes +irritated when there is no response, except a roar, to his request, +"Take off the head now and come on." After a second roar Clark remarks +with no little pique, "Come on, now, cut it out, you're not so good as +all that." + +What happens after that I don't know because the people who have been to +the Columbia Theater always leave you in doubt as to whether Clark +actually goes into the lion's den or not. Presumably not, because later +in the show, according to these reports, there is a drill by The World's +Worst Zouaves in which Clark as the chief zouave whistles continually +for new formations only to have nothing happen. Whether Clark is the +originator of the material about the lion and the rest, or only the +executor, I am not prepared to say. All the scouts talk as if he made it +up as he went along, and whenever a comedian can bring about that state +of mind there need be no doubt of his ability. + + + + +XXXVII + +DANGER SIGNALS FOR READERS + + +By this time, of course, we ought to know the danger signals in a novel +and realize the exact spot at which to come to a full stop. On page 54 +of "The Next Corner," by Kate Jordan, we found the situation in which +Robert, husband, came face to face with Elsie, wife, after a separation +of three years. Mining interests had called him to Burma, and she, being +given the world to choose from, had decided to live in Paris. He was +punctual at the end of his three years in arriving at his wife's +apartment, but she was not there. The maid informed him that she had +gone to a tea at the home of the Countess Longueval. Without stopping to +wait for an invitation John hurried after her. He entered the huge and +garish reception room and there, yes there, was Elsie. But perhaps Miss +Jordan had better tell it: + +"The effect she produced on him, in her yellow gauze, that though +fashioned for afternoon wear was so transparent it left a good deal of +her body visible, with her face undisguisedly tricked out and her +gleaming cigarette poised, was a harsh one--a marionette with whom +fashion was an idolatry; an over-decorated, empty eggshell. She could +feel this, and in a desperate way persisted in the affectation which +sustained her, the more so that under Robert's earnest gaze a feeling of +guilt made her hideously uncomfortable. + +"'Throw that away,' Robert said quietly with a scant look at the +cigarette." + +It seemed strange to us that Robert had been so little influenced toward +liberalism during his three years in Burma, for that was the spot where +Kipling's soldier found the little Burmese girl "a smokin' of a whackin' +big cheeroot." + +Still, Robert carried his point. Elsie, our heroine, gave a laugh. What +sort of a laugh, do you suppose? Quite so, "an empty laugh," and "she +turned to flick it from her fingers"; that is, the cigarette. Perhaps we +should add that she flicked it to "a table that held the smokers' +service." Elsie, undoubtedly, had degenerated during Robert's absence, +but she was still too much the lady to put ashes on the carpet. And yet +she did use cosmetics. This was the second thing which Robert took up +with her. In the cab he wanted to know why she put "all that stuff" on +her face. Perhaps her answer was a little perplexing, for she said, +"Embellishment, mon cher. Pour la beaute, pour la charme!" + +"I'm quite of the world in my tolerance," he explained to her. "If you +needed help of this sort and applied it delicately to your face I'd not +mind. In fact, if delicately done, probably I'd not know of it." + +This, of course, seems to us an immoral attitude. Things are right or +wrong, whether one notices them or not. After all, the recording angel +would know. Elsie could use paint and powder with such delicacy as to +deceive him. However, we are interrupting Robert, who went on, and "His +voice grew kinder, although his eyes remained sternly grave." + +"It's been from the beginning of the world," he said, "and it is in the +East, wherever there are women. But--and make a note of it--they are +always women of a certain sort." + +Seemingly, Robert got away with this statement, although it is not true. +Manchu women of the highest degree paint a great scarlet circle on the +side of their face in spite of the fact that there is a native proverb +which, freely translated, may be rendered, "Discretion is the better +part of pallor." + +It is only fair to add that the indiscretions of Elsie went beyond +powder and paint and even beyond smoking cigarettes. When her husband +told her that he must make a brief business trip to England she asked to +be excused from accompanying him on the ground that she would prefer to +remain in Paris for a while. As a matter of fact, she planned to go to +Spain. And she did. She went to a house party at the home of Don Arturo +Valda y Moncado, Marques de Burgos. She had been told that it was to be +a house party, but when she got to the isolated little castle on the top +of the crag she found no one but Don Arturo Valda y Moncado, Marques de +Burgos. No sooner had she arrived than a storm began to rage and the +last mule coach went down the mountain. She must stay the night! Still, +after her first wild pleadings that he allow her to clamber down the +mountain alone at night until she could find a hotel, reasonable in +price and respectable, she did not feel so lonely with Arturo. To be +sure, he sounded a good deal like a house party all by himself, and more +than that she loved him. + +After dinner he began to make love and soon she joined him. He grew +impassioned, and Elsie said that she would throw in her lot with his and +never leave him. In a transport of joy, Arturo was about to bestow upon +her one of those Spanish kisses which no novelist can round off in less +than a page and a half. Elsie commanded him to be patient. First, she +said, she must write a letter to her husband. In this moment Arturo was +superb in his Latin restraint. He did not suggest a cablegram or even a +special delivery stamp. Perhaps it would have meant death to go to the +postoffice on such a night. Elsie wrote to Robert, painstakingly and +frankly, confessing that she loved Arturo and was going to remain with +him and that she would not be home at all any more. Then a sure footed +serving man was intrusted with the letter and told to seek a post box on +the mountain side. + +No sooner was that out of the way than a Spanish peasant entered the +house and shot Arturo. It seems that Arturo had betrayed his daughter. +The shot killed Arturo and Elsie wished she had never sent the letter. +Unfortunately, you can't make your confession and eat it too. No +postscript was possible. Elsie staggered down the mountain side and a +chapter later she woke up in a hospital in Bordeaux. The strain had been +too great. + +Nor could we stand it either. We sought out somebody else who had +already read the book and he told us that Elsie went back to America and +found her husband, and that for months and months she lived in an agony +of shame, thinking he knew all about what had never happened. Finally +she decided that he didn't, and then she lived months and months in an +agony of fear that the letter was still on its way. She got up every +morning, opening everything feverishly and finding only bills and +advertisements. At this point the person who knew the story was +interrupted in telling us about it, but we think we can supply the end. + +After more months and months, in which first shame died and then fear, +hope was born. And then came happiness. The old hunted look faded from +the eyes of Elsie. She seemed a superbly normal woman, save in one +respect. During the political campaign of 1920, when practically every +visitor who came to the house would remark, at one time or other during +the course of the evening, "Don't you think this man Burleson is a +mess?" Elsie would look up with just the suggestion of a faint smile +about her fine, sensitive mouth and answer, "Oh, I don't know." + + + + +XXXVIII + +ADVENTURE MADE PAINLESS + + +One of my favorite characters in all fiction is D'Artagnan. He was +forever fighting duels with people and stabbing them, or riding at top +speed over lonely roads at night to save a woman's name or something. I +believe that I glory in D'Artagnan because of my own utter inability to +do anything with a sword. Beyond self-inflicted razor wounds, no blood +has been shed by me. Horseback riding is equally foreign to my +experience, and I have done nothing for any woman's name. And why should +I? D'Artagnan does all these things so much better that there is not the +slightest necessity for personal muddling. When he gallops I ride too, +clattering along at breakneck speed between ghostly lines of trees. Only +there is no ache in my legs the next morning. Nor heartache either over +heroines. + +He is my substitute in adventure. After an evening with him I can go +down to the office in the morning and go through routine work without +the slightest annoying consciousness that it is, after all, pretty dull +stuff. I am not tempted to put on my hat and coat and fling up my job in +order to go out to seek adventures with swordsmen and horses and +provocative ladies in black masks. + +Undoubtedly there must be some longing in me for all this or I would +not have such a keen interest in _The Three Musketeers_, but, having +read about it, there is no craving for actual deeds. Possibly, after a +long evening with a tale of adventure, I may swagger a little the next +day and puzzle a few office boys with a belligerent manner to which they +are not accustomed; but they do not fit into the picture perfectly +enough to maintain the mood. It has been satisfied, and when it begins +to tug again there are other books which will serve to gratify my keen +desire to hear the clink of blades and the sound of running footsteps on +the cobbles as the miscreants give way. The scurvy knaves! The system +saves time and expense and arnica. Without it I might not be altogether +reconciled to Brooklyn. + +In my opinion, most of the men and women whom I know find the same +relief in books and plays and motion pictures. The rather stout lady on +the floor below us has three small children. I imagine that they are a +fearful nuisance, but recently, after getting them to bed, she has been +reading "The Sheik." Her husband--he is one of these masterful men--told +me that he had glanced at the book himself and found it silly and highly +colored. He said that he was going to tell her to stop. I agreed with +him as to the silliness of the book, but it seemed to me that his wife +had earned her right to a fling on the desert. If I knew him a little +better, I would go on to say that it ought to comfort him to have his +wife reading such a highly flavored romance. He is excessively jealous, +and he ought to be pleased to have a possibly roving fancy so completely +occupied by an intense interest in an Arab chieftain who never +lived--no, not even in Arabia or any place at all outside the pages of a +book. The husband has no need to worry. There is no one in our +neighborhood who resembles Ben Ahmed Abdullah--or whatever his fool name +may be. + +Once, when my neighbor found me at the door of his apartment, where I +had gone to borrow half an orange, he seemed unusually surly. That was +certainly a groundless suspicion. At the time I was entirely absorbed in +"The Outline of History." Mrs. X--of course I can't give her name or +even provide any description which might serve to identify her--was +entirely safe from my attentions, for during that particular week I was +rather taken with Cleopatra, even though Wells did speak slightingly of +her. Unfortunately we have no adequate idea of Cleopatra's appearance. +Wells attempts no description. The only existing portrait is one of +those conventionalized Egyptian things with the arms held out stiffly as +if the siren of the Nile was trying to indicate to the clerk the size of +the shoe which she desired. Still, we can imply something from the +enthusiasm of Antony and the others. Somehow or other, I have always +felt sure that there was not the slightest resemblance between Cleopatra +and Mrs. X. + +Here is what I am trying to get at. Mr. X sells something or other, and +apparently nobody in New York wants it, which makes it necessary for him +to go on long journeys in which he touches Providence, Boston, New +Bedford, and Bangor. Practically all my evenings are spent at home. + +I have spoken of the stairs, but it is only a short flight. Mrs. X is +sentimental and I am romantic. And we are both quite safe, and Mr. X can +go peacefully and enthusiastically around Bangor selling whatever it is +which he has to sell. I resemble the Sheik Ben Ahmed Abdullah even less +than Mrs. X resembles Cleopatra. Mr. Smith (we might as well abandon +subterfuges and come out frankly with the name, since I have already +been indiscreet enough for him to identify the personages concerned) has +no rival but a phantom one. + +Realizing how much Smith and I and Mrs. Smith owe to the protecting +consolations of fiction, which includes history as written by Wells, I +feel that I ought to go on to generalize in favor of many much-abused +types of entertainment. Whenever a youngster steals anything, or a wife +runs away from home, the motion pictures are blamed. Censorship is +devoted to removing all traces of bloodshed from the films. Police +magistrates are called in to suppress farces dealing with folk given to +high jinks, on the ground that they threaten the morals of the +community. We assume, of course, that the censors are thinking of morals +in terms of deeds. They can hardly be ambitious enough to hope to +curtail the thoughts of a community. + +And I deny their major premise. Evil instincts are in us all. +Practically everybody would enjoy robbing a bank or running away with +somebody with whom he ought not to run away. These lawless instincts are +invariably drained off by watching their mimic presentment in novels and +films and plays. + +If only accurate statistics were available, I would wager and win on the +proposition that not half of 1 per cent of all the cracksmen in America +have ever seen _Alias Jimmy Valentine_. No burglar could watch the play +without being shamed out of his job by sheer envy. An ounce of +self-respect--and there are figures to show that yeggs average three and +a quarter--would keep a crook from continuing in his bungling way after +observing the manner in which Jimmy Valentine opens the door of a safe +merely by sandpapering his fingers. What sort of person do you suppose +could go and buy nitroglycerine ungrudgingly after that? Even by the +least optimistic estimate of human nature, the worst we could expect +from a criminal who had seen the play would be to have him make a +gallant and sincere effort to employ the touch system in his own career. +Such attempts would be easy to frustrate. Night watchmen could creep up +on the idealists and catch them unaware. They could be traced by their +cursing. And, of course, the police might keep an eye open at the doors +of the sandpaper shops. + +_Kiki_, David Belasco's adaptation from the French, taps another rich +vein of human depravity and allows it to be exploited and exhausted by +means of drama. The heroine of the play is a rowdy little baggage. She +has a civil word for no man. The truth is not in her. Now, every child +born into the world would like to lie and be impertinent. There is +practically no fun in being polite, and truth-telling is most +indifferent judged solely as an indoor sport. Manners and veracity are +things which people learn slowly and painfully. Undoubtedly both are +useful, though I am not at all sure that their importance is not +somewhat exaggerated. Community life demands certain sacrifices, +particularly as the pressure of civilization increases. The men of a +primitive tribe do not get up in the subway to give their seats to +ladies, because they have no subways. Likewise, having no hats, they are +not obliged to take them off. Of course it goes deeper than that. Even a +primitive civilization has weather, and yet one seldom hears an Indian +in his native state observing: "Isn't it unusually warm for November?" + +Once everybody was primitive, and the most intensive training cannot +wholly obliterate the old longing to be done with strange and +self-imposed trappings. Until it is licked out of them, children are +savagely rude. Training can alter practice, but even the most severe +chastisement cannot get deep enough to affect an instinct. We all want +to be rude, and we would, now and again, break loose in unrestrained +spells of boorishness if it were not for an occasional Kiki who does the +work for us. Accordingly, one of the most salutary forms of +entertainment is the comedy of bad manners which recurs in our theater +every once in so often. + +"But," I hear somebody objecting, "no matter how much each of us may +like to be rude, we don't care much about it when it is done to us. In +real life we would all run from Kiki because her monstrous bragging +would irritate us, and her vulgarity and bad manners would be most +annoying." + +All that would be true but for one factor. In any play which achieves +success a curious transference of personality takes place. Before a play +begins the audience is separated from the people on the stage by a +number of barriers. First of all, there is the curtain, but by and by +that goes up. The orchestra pit and the footlights still stand as moats +to keep us at our distance. Then the magic of the playhouse begins to +have its effect. If the actors and the playwrights know the tricks of +the business, they soon lift each impressionable person from his seat +and carry him spiritually right into the center of the happenings. He +becomes one or more persons in the play. We do not weep when Hamlet dies +because we care anything in particular about him. His death can hardly +come as a surprise. We knew he was going to die. We even knew that he +had been dead for a long time. + +Probably a few changes have been made in adapting _Kiki_ from the +French. Kiki is made just a bit more respectable than she was in the +French version, but she remains enough of a gamin and a rebel against +taste and morals to satisfy the outlaw spirit of an American audience. +She is for the New York stage "a good girl," but since this seems to be +only the slightest check upon her speech and conduct, there can be no +violent objection. Of course the type is perfectly familiar in the +American theater, but this time it seems to us better written than +usual, and much more skillfully and warmly played. Indeed, in my +opinion, Miss Ulric's Kiki is the best comedy performance of the season. +Even this is not quite enough. It has been a lean season, and this +particular piece of acting is good enough to stand out in a brilliant +one. The final scene of the play, in which Kiki apologizes for being +virtuous, seems to me a truly dazzling interpretation of emotions. It is +comic because it is surprising, and it is surprising because it concerns +some of the true things which people neglect to discuss. + +By seeing _Alias Jimmy Valentine_, the safe-cracking instinct which lies +dormant in us may be satisfied. _Kiki_ allows us to indulge our fondness +for being rude without alienating our friends. But more missionary work +remains. In _The Idle Inn_, Ben-Ami appears as a horse thief. +Personally, I have no inclination in that direction. I would not have +the slightest idea what to do with a horse after stealing him. My +apartment is quite small and up three flights of stairs. However, there +are other vices embodied in the role which are more appealing to me. The +role is that of a masterful man, which has always been among my thwarted +ambitions. In the second act Ben-Ami breaks through a circle of dancing +villagers and, seizing the bride, carries her off to the forest. +Probably New York will never realize how many weddings have been carried +on without mishap this season solely because of Ben-Ami's performance in +_The Idle Inn_. In addition to entrusting him with all my eloping for +the year, I purpose to let Ben-Ami swagger for me. He does it superbly. +To my mind this young Jewish actor is one of the most vivid performers +in our theater. His silences are more eloquent than the big speeches of +almost any other star on Broadway. + +The play is nothing to boast about. Once it was in Yiddish, and as far +as spirit goes it remains there. Once it was a language, and now it is +words. The usually adroit Arthur Hopkins has fallen down badly by +providing Ben-Ami with a mediocre company. He suffers like an +All-America halfback playing on a scrub team. The other players keep +getting in his way. + +One more production may be drawn into the discussion, but only by +extending the field of inquiry a little. _The Chocolate Soldier,_ which +is based on Shaw's _Arms and the Man,_ can hardly be said to satisfy the +soldiering instinct in us by a romantic tale of battle. Shaw's method is +more direct. He contents himself with telling us that the only people +who do get the thrill of adventure out of war are those who know it only +in imagination. His perfect soldier is prosaic. It is the girl who has +never seen a battle who romances about it. Still, Shaw does make it +possible for us to practice one vice vicariously. After seeing a piece +by him the spectator does not feel the need of being witty. He can just +sit back and let George do it. + + + + +XXXIX + +THE TALL VILLA + + +"The Tall Villa," by Lucas Malet, is a novel, but it may well serve as a +textbook for those who want to know how to entertain a ghost. There need +be no question that such advice is needed. For all the interest of the +present generation in psychical research, we treat apparitions with +scant courtesy. Suppose a visitor goes into a haunted room and at +midnight is awakened by a specter who carries a bloody dagger in one +hand and his ghostly head in the other; does the guest ask the ghost to +put his things down and stay a while? He does not. Instead, he rushes +screaming from the room or pulls the bedclothes over his head and dies +of fright. + +Ghosts walk because they crave society and they get precious little of +it. Frances Copley, the heroine of "The Tall Villa," managed things much +better. When the apparition of Lord Oxley first appeared to her she did +not faint or scream. On the contrary, the author tells us, "The +breeding, in which Frances Copley trusted, did not desert her now. After +the briefest interval she went on playing--she very much knew not what, +discords more than probably, as she afterward reflected!" + +After all, Lord Oxley may have been a ghost, but he was still a +gentleman. Indeed, when she saw him later she perceived that the shadow +"had grown, in some degree, substantial, taking on for the most part, +definite outline, definite form and shape. That, namely, of a young man +of notably distinguished bearing, dressed (in as far as, through the +sullen evening light, Frances could make out) in clothes of the highest +fashion, though according to a long discarded coloring and cut." + +From friends of the family Frances learned that young Oxley, who had +been dead about a century and a half, had shot himself on account of +unrequited love. After having looked him up and found that he was an +eligible ghost in every particular, Frances decided to take him up. She +continued to play for him without the discords. In fact, she began to +look forward to his afternoon calls with a great deal of pleasure. Her +husband did not understand her. She did not like his friends, and his +friends' friends were impossible. Oxley's calls, on the other hand, were +a social triumph. He was punctiliously exclusive. Nobody else could even +see him. When he came into the room others often noticed that the room +grew suddenly and surprisingly chilly, but the author fails to point out +whether that was due to Lord Oxley's station in life or after life. + +Bit by bit the acquaintance between Frances and the ghost ripened. At +first she never looked at him directly, but regarded his shadow in the +mirror. And they communicated only through music. Later Frances made so +bold as to speak to his lordship. + +"When you first came," she said, her voice veiled, husky, even a little +broken, "I was afraid. I thought only of myself. I was terrified both at +you and what you might demand from me. I hastened to leave this house, +to go away and try to forget. But I wasn't permitted to forget. While I +was away much concerning you was told me which changed my feeling toward +you and showed me my duty. I have come back of my own free will. I am +still afraid, but I no longer mind being afraid. My desire now is not to +avoid, but rather to meet you. For, as I have learned, we are kinsfolk, +you and I; and since this house is mine, you are in a sense my guest. Of +that I have come to be glad. I claim you as part of my inheritance--the +most valued, the most welcome portion, if you so will it. If I can help, +serve, comfort you, I am ready to do so to the utmost of my poor +capacity." + +Alexis, Lord Oxley, made no reply, but it was evident that he accepted +her offer of service and comfort graciously, for he continued to call +regularly. His manners were perfect, although it is true that he never +sent up his card, and yet in one matter Frances felt compelled to chide +him and even tearfully implore a reformation. It made her nervous when +she noticed one day that he carried in his right hand the ghost of the +pistol with which he had shot himself. Agreeably he abandoned his +century old habit, but later he was able to give more convincing proof +of his regard for Frances. She was alone in the Tall Villa when her +husband's vulgar friend, Morris Montagu, called. He came to tell her +that her husband was behaving disgracefully in South America, and on +the strength of that fact he made aggressive love. "Montagu's voice grew +rasping and hoarse. But before, paralyzed by disgust and amazement, +Frances had time to apprehend his meaning or combat his purpose, his +coarse, pawlike--though much manicured--hand grasped her wrist." + +Suddenly the room grew chilly and Morris Montagu, in mortal terror, +relaxed his grip and began to run for the door as he cried, "Keep off, +you accursed devil, I tell you. Don't touch me. Ah! Ah! Damn you, keep +off----" + +It is evident to the reader that the ghost of Alexis, Lord Oxley, is +giving the vulgar fellow what used to be known as "the bum's rush" in +the days before the Volstead act. At any rate, the voice of Montagu grew +feeble and distant and died away in the hall. Then the front door +slammed. Frances was saved! + +After that, of course, it was evident to Alexis, Lord Oxley, and Frances +that they loved each other. He began to talk to her in a husky and +highfalutin style. He even stood close to her chair and patted her head. +"Presently," writes Lucas Malet, "his hand dwelt shyly, lingering upon +her bent head, her cheek, the nape of her slender neck. And Frances felt +his hand as a chill yet tender draw, encircling, playing upon her. This +affected her profoundly, as attacking her in some sort through the +medium of her senses, from the human side, and thereby augmenting rather +than allaying the fever of her grief." + +Naturally, things could not go on in that way forever, and so Alexis, +Lord Oxley, arranged that Frances should cross the bridge with him into +the next life. It was not difficult to arrange this. She had only to +die. And so she did. All of which goes to prove that though it is well +to be polite and well spoken to ghosts, they will bear watching as much +as other men. + + + + +XL + +PROFESSOR GEORGE PIERCE BAKER + + +A great many persons speak and write about Professor George Pierce +Baker, of Harvard, as if he were a sort of agitator who made a practice +of luring young men away from productive labor to write bad plays. There +is no denying the fact that a certain number of dramatists have come out +of Harvard's English 47, but the course also has a splendid record of +cures. Few things in the world are so easy as to decide to write a play. +It carries a sense of satisfaction entirely disproportionate to the +amount of effort entailed. Even the failure to put a single line on +paper brings no remorse, for it is easy to convince yourself that the +thing would have had no chance in the commercial theater. + +All this would be well enough except that the author of a phantom play +is apt to remain a martyr throughout his life. He makes a very bad +husband and father and a worse bridge partner. Freudians know the +complaint as the Euripidean complex. The sufferer is ailing because his +play lies suppressed in his subconscious mind. + +Professor Baker digs these plays out. People who come to English 47 may +talk about their plays as much as they choose, but they must write them, +too. Often a cure follows within forty-eight hours after the completion +of a play. Sometimes it is enough for the author to read the thing +through for himself, but if that does not avail there is an excellent +chance for him after his play has been read aloud by Professor Baker and +criticized by the class. If a pupil still wishes to write plays after +this there is no question that he belongs in the business. He may, of +course, never earn a penny at it but, starve or flourish, he is a +playwright. + +Professor Baker deserves the thanks of the community, then, not only for +Edward Sheldon, and Cleves Kincaid, and Miss Lincoln and Eugene O'Neill +and some of the other playwrights who came from English 47, but also for +the number of excellent young men who have gone straight from his +classroom to Wall Street, and the ministry, and automobile accessories +with all the nascent enthusiasm of men just liberated from a great +delusion. + +In another respect Professor Baker has often been subjected to much +undeserved criticism. Somebody has figured out that there are 2.983 more +rapes in the average English 47 play than in the usual non-collegiate +specimen of commercial drama. We feel comparatively certain that there +is nothing in the personality of Professor Baker to account for this or +in the traditions of Harvard, either. We must admit that nowhere in the +world is a woman quite so unsafe as in an English 47 play, but the +faculty gives no official encouragement to this undergraduate enthusiasm +for sex problems. One must look beyond the Dean and the faculty for an +explanation. It has something to do with Spring, and the birds, and the +saplings and "What Every Young Man Ought to Know" and all that sort of +thing. + +When I was in English 47 I remember that all our plays dealt with Life. +At that none of us regarded it very highly. Few respected it and +certainly no one was in favor of it. The course was limited to juniors, +seniors and graduate students and we were all a little jaded. There were +times, naturally, when we regretted our lost illusions and longed to be +freshmen again and to believe everything the Sunday newspapers said +about Lillian Russell. But usually there was no time for regrets; we +were too busy telling Life what we thought about it. Here there was a +divergence of opinion. Some of the playwrights in English 47 said that +Life was a terrific tragedy. In their plays the hero shot himself, or +the heroine, or both, as the circumstances might warrant, in the last +act. The opposing school held that Life was a joke, a grim jest to be +sure, cosmic rather than comic, but still mirthful. The plays by these +authors ended with somebody ordering "Another small bottle of Pommery" +and laughing mockingly, like a world-wise cynic. + +Bolshevism had not been invented at that time, but Capital was severely +handled just the same. All our villains were recruited from the upper +classes. Yet capitalism had an easy time of it compared with marriage. I +do not remember that a single play which I heard all year in 47, whether +from Harvard or Radcliffe, had a single word of toleration, let alone +praise, for marriage. And yet it was dramatically essential, for +without marriage none of us would have been able to hammer out our +dramatic tunes upon the triangle. Most of the epigrams also were about +marriage. "Virtue is a polite word for fear," that is the sort of thing +we were writing when we were not empowering some character to say, +"Honesty is a bedtime fairy story invented for the proletariat," or "The +prodigal gets drunk; the Puritan gets religion." + +But up to date Professor Baker has stood up splendidly under this yearly +barrage of epigrams. With his pupils toppling institutions all around +him he has held his ground firmly and insisted on the enduring quality +of the fundamental technic of the drama. When a pupil brings in a play +in favor of polygamy, Baker declines to argue but talks instead about +peripety. In other words, Professor Baker is wise enough to realize that +it is impossible that he should furnish, or even attempt to mold in any +way, the philosophy which his students bring into English 47 each year. +If it is often a crude philosophy that is no fault of his. He can't +attempt to tell the fledgling playwrights what things to say and, of +course, he doesn't. English 47 is designed almost entirely to give a +certain conception of dramatic form. Professor Baker "tries in the light +of historical practice to distinguish the permanent from the impermanent +in technic." He endeavors, "by showing the inexperienced dramatist how +experienced dramatists have solved problems similar to his own, to +shorten a little the time of apprenticeship." + +When a man has done with Baker he has begun to grasp some of the things +he must not do in writing a play. With that much ground cleared all that +he has to do is to acquire a knowledge of life, devise a plot and find a +manager. + + + + +XLI + +WHAT SHAKESPEARE MISSED + + +Next to putting a gold crown upon a man's head and announcing, "I create +you emperor," no evil genius could serve him a worse turn than by giving +him a blue pencil and saying: "Now you're a censor." Unfortunately +mankind loves to possess the power of sitting in judgment. In some +respects the life of a censor is more exhilarating than that of an +emperor. The best the emperor can do is to snip off the heads of men and +women, who are mere mortals. The censor can decapitate ideas which but +for him might have lived forever. Think, for instance, of the +extraordinary thrill which might come to a matter-of-fact individual +living to-day in the city of Philadelphia if he happened to be the +censor to whom the moving-picture version of "Macbeth" was submitted. +His eye would light upon the subtitle "Give me the dagger," and, turning +to the volume called "Rules and Standards," he would find among the +prohibitions: "Pictures which deal at length with gun play, and the use +of knives." + +"That," one hears the censor crying in triumph, "comes out." + +"But," we may fancy the producer objecting, "you can't take that out; +Shakespeare wrote it, and it belongs in the play." + +"I don't care who wrote it," the censor could answer. "It can't be shown +in Pennsylvania." + +And it couldn't. The little fat man with the blue pencil--and censors +always become fat in time--can stand with both his feet upon the face of +posterity; he can look Fame in the eye and order her to quit trumpeting; +he can line his wastebasket with the greatest notions which have stirred +the mind of man. Like Joshua of old, he can command the sun and the moon +to stand still until they have passed inspection. Cleanliness, it has +been said, is next to godliness, but just behind comes the censor. + +Perhaps you may object that the censor would do none of the things +mentioned. Perhaps he wouldn't, but the Pennsylvania State Board of +Censors of Motion Pictures has been sufficiently alive to the +possibilities of what it might want to do in reediting the classics to +give itself, specifically, supreme authority over the judgment and the +work of dead masters. Under Section 22 of "Standards of the Board" we +find: + +"That the theme or story of a picture is adapted from a publication, +whether classical or not; or that portions of a picture follow paintings +or other illustrations, is not a sufficient reason for the approval of a +picture or portions of a picture." + +As a matter of fact, it is pretty hard to see just how "Macbeth" could +possibly come to the screen in Pennsylvania. It might be banned on any +one of several counts. For instance, "Prolonged fighting scenes will be +shortened, and brutal fights will be wholly disapproved." Nobody can +question that the murder of Banquo was brutal. "The use of profane and +objectionable language in subtitles will be disapproved," which would +handicap Macduff a good deal in laying on in his usual fashion. + +"Gruesome and unduly distressing scenes will be disapproved. These +include shooting, stabbing, profuse bleeding----" If Shakespeare had +only written with Pennsylvania in mind, Duncan might be still alive and +Lady Macbeth sleep as well as the next one. + +But at this point we recognize another gentleman who wishes to protest +against any more attacks upon motion-picture censorship being made which +rest wholly on supposition. He has read "Standards of the Board," issued +by the gentlemen in Pennsylvania, and he asserts that all the rules laid +down are legitimate if interpreted with intelligence. + +It will not be necessary to put the whole list of rules in evidence +since there need be no dispute as to the propriety of such rules as +prohibit moving pictures about white slavery and the drug traffic. +Skipping these, we come to No. 5, which is as follows: + +"Scenes showing the modus operandi of criminals which are suggestive and +incite to evil action, such as murder, poisoning, housebreaking, safe +robbery, pocket picking, the lighting and throwing of bombs, the use of +ether, chloroform, etc., to render men and women unconscious, binding +and gagging, will be disapproved." + +Here I take the liberty of interrupting for a moment to protest that +the board has framed this rule upon the seeming assumption that to see +murders, robberies, and the rest is to wish at once to emulate the +criminals. This theory is in need of proving. "A good detective story" +is the traditional relaxation of all men high in power in times of +stress, but it is not recorded of Roosevelt, Wilson, Secretary of State +Hughes, Lloyd George, nor of any of the other noted devotees of criminal +literature that he attempted to put into practice any of the things of +which he read. But to get on with the story: + +"(6) Gruesome and unduly distressing scenes will be disapproved. These +include shooting, stabbing, profuse bleeding, prolonged views of men +dying and of corpses, lashing and whipping and other torture scenes, +hangings, lynchings, electrocutions, surgical operations, and views of +persons in delirium or insane." + +Here, of course, a great deal is left to the discretion of the censors. +Just what is "gruesome and unduly distressing"? This, I fancy, must +depend upon the state of the censor's digestion. To a vegetarian censor +it might be nothing more than a close-up of a beefsteak dinner. To a man +living in the city which supports the Athletics and the Phillies a mere +flash of a baseball game might be construed as "gruesome and unduly +distressing." + +This is another of the rules which puts Shakespeare in his place, +sweeping out, as it does, both Lear and Ophelia. And possibly Hamlet. +Was Hamlet mad? The Pennsylvania censors will have to take that question +up in a serious way sooner or later. + +"(7) Studio and other scenes, in which the human form is shown in the +nude, or the body is unduly exposed, will be disapproved." + +This fails to state whether the prohibition includes the reproduction of +statues shown publicly and familiarly to all comers in our museums. + +Prohibition No. 8, which deals with eugenics, birth control and similar +subjects, may be passed without comment, as it refers rather to news +than to feature pictures. + +Prohibition No. 9 covers a wide field: + +"Stories or scenes holding up to ridicule and reproach races, classes, +or other social groups, as well as the irreverent and sacrilegious +treatment of religious bodies or other things held to be sacred, will be +disapproved." + +Here we have still another rule which might be invoked against Hamlet's +coming to the screen, since the chance remark, "Something is rotten in +the state of Denmark," might logically be held to be offensive to +Scandinavians. "The Merchant of Venice," of course, would have no +chance, not only as anti-Semitic propaganda, but because it holds up +money lenders, a well-known social group, to ridicule. + +No. 10 briefly forbids pictures which deal with counterfeiting, +seemingly under the impression that if this particular crime is never +mentioned the members of the underworld may possibly forget its +existence. In No. 11 there is the direct prohibition of "scenes showing +men and women living together without marriage." Here the greatest +difficulty will fall upon those film manufacturers who deal in travel +pictures. No exhibitor is safe in flashing upon a screen the picture of +a cannibal man and woman and several little cannibals in front of their +hut without first ascertaining from the camera man that he went inside +and inspected the wedding certificate. No. 13 forbids the use of +"profane and objectionable language," which we shall find later has been +construed to include the simple "Hell." + +Under 15 we find this ruling: "Views of incendiarism, burning, wrecking, +and the destruction of property, which may put like action into the +minds of those of evil instincts, or may degrade the morals of the +young, will be disapproved." + +In other words, Nero may fiddle to his heart's content, but he must do +it without the inspiration of the burning of Rome. Curiously enough, +throughout all the rules of censorship there runs a continuous train of +reasoning that the pictures must be adapted to the capacity and +mentality of the lowest possible person who could wander into a picture +house. The picture-loving public, in the minds of the censors, seems to +be honeycombed with potential murderers, incendiaries, and +counterfeiters. Rule No. 16 discourages scenes of drunkenness, and adds +chivalrously: "Especially if women have a part in the scenes." + +Next we come to a rule which would handicap vastly any attempt to +reproduce Stevenson or any other lover of the picaresque upon the +screen. "Pictures which deal at length with gun play," says Rule 17, +"and the use of knives, and are set in the underworld, will be +disapproved. Prolonged fighting scenes will be shortened and brutal +fights will be wholly disapproved." + +What, we wonder, would the censors do with a picture about Thermopylae? +Would they, we wonder, command that resistance be shortened if the +picture was to escape the ban? The Alamo was another fight which dragged +on unduly, and Grant was guilty of great disrespect in his famous "If it +takes all summer," not to mention the impudent incitement toward the +prolongation of a fight in Lawrence's "Don't give up the ship." + +No. 19 suggests difficulties in its ban on "sensual kissing and +love-making scenes." Naturally the question arises: "At just what point +does a kiss become sensual?" Here the censors, to their credit, have +been clear and definite in their ruling. They have decided that a kiss +remains chaste for ten feet. If held upon the screen for as much as an +inch above this limit, it changes character and becomes sensual. Here, +at any rate, morality has been measured with an exactitude which is +rare. + +No. 20 is puzzling. It begins, liberally enough, with the announcement +that "Views of women smoking will not be disapproved as such," but then +adds belatedly that this ruling does not apply if "their manner of +smoking is suggestive." Suggestive of what, I wonder? Perhaps the +censors mean that it is all right for women to smoke in moving pictures +if only they don't inhale, but it would have been much more simple to +have said just that. No. 22 is the famous proclamation that the +classics, as well as other themes, must meet Pennsylvania requirements, +and in 23 we have a fine general rule which covers almost anything a +censor may want to do. "Themes or incidents in picture stories," it +reads, "which are designed to inflame the mind to improper adventures, +or to establish false standards of conduct, coming under the foregoing +classes, or of other kinds, will be disapproved. Pictures will be judged +as a whole, with a view to their final total effect; those portraying +evil in any form which may be easily remembered or emulated will be +disapproved." + +Perhaps there are still some who remain unconvinced as to the excesses +of censorship. The argument may be advanced that nothing is wrong with +the rules mentioned if only they are enforced with discretion and +intelligence. In answer to this plea the best thing to do would be to +consider a few of the eliminations in definite pictures which were +required by the Pennsylvania board and by the one in Ohio which operates +under a somewhat similar set of regulations. An industrial play called +"The Whistle" was banned in its entirety in Pennsylvania under the +following ruling: "Disapproved under Section 6 of the Act of 1915. +Symbolism of the title raises class antagonism and hatred, and +throughout subtitles, scenes, and incidents have the same effect." + +But most astounding of all was the final observation: "Child-labor and +factory laws of this State would make incident shown impossible." In +other words, if a thing did not happen in Pennsylvania it is assumed not +to have happened at all. It is entirely possible that the next producer +who brings an Indian picture to the censors may be asked to eliminate +the elephants on the ground that "there aren't any in this State." + +The same State ordered out of "Officer Cupid," a comedy, a scene in +which one of the chief comedians was seen robbing a safe, presumably +under the section against showing crime upon the stage. + +Most troublesome of all were the changes ordered into the screen version +of Augustus Thomas's well-known play "The Witching Hour." It may be +remembered that the villain of this piece was an assistant district +attorney in the State of Kentucky, but Pennsylvania would not have him +so. It is difficult to find any specific justification for this attitude +in the published standards of the State unless we assume that a district +attorney was classified as belonging to the group "other things held to +be sacred" which were not to be treated lightly. The first ruling of the +censors in regard to "The Witching Hour" ran: "Reel One--Eliminate +subtitle 'Frank Hardmuth, assistant district attorney,' and substitute +'Frank Hardmuth, a prosperous attorney.'" + +Next came: "Reel Two--Eliminate subtitle, 'I can give her the +best--money, position, and, as far as character--I am district attorney +now, and before you know it I will be the governor,' and substitute: 'I +can give her the best--money, position, and, as far as character--I am +now a prosperous attorney, and before you know it I will be running for +governor.'" + +And again: "Eliminate subtitle: 'Exactly--but you have taken an oath to +stand by this city,' and substitute: 'Exactly, but you have taken an +oath to stand by the law.'" + +This curious complex that even assistant district attorneys should be +above suspicion ran through the entire film. Simpler was the change of +the famous curtain line which was familiar to all theatergoers of New +York ten or twelve seasons ago when "The Witching Hour" was one of the +hits of the season. It may be remembered that at the end of the third +act Frank Hardmuth, then a district attorney and not yet reduced to a +prosperous attorney, ran into the library of the hero to kill him. The +hero's name we have forgotten, but he was a professional gambler, of a +high type, who later turned hypnotist. Hardmuth thrust a pistol into his +stomach, and we can still see the picture and hear the line as John +Mason turned and said: "You can't shoot that gun [and then after a long +pause]: You can't even hold it." Hardmuth, played by George Nash, +staggered back and exclaimed, just before the curtain came down: "I'd +like to know how in Hell you did that to me." It can hardly have been +equally effective in moving pictures after the censor made the caption +read: "I'd like to know how you did that to me." The original version +fell under the ban against profanity. + +In Ohio a more recent picture called "The Gilded Lily" had not a little +trouble. Here the Board of Censors curtly ordered: "First Reel--Cut out +girl smoking cigarette which she takes from man." Seemingly they did not +even stop to consider whether or not she smoked it suggestively. And +again in the third reel came the order: "Cut out all scenes of girl's +smoking cigarette at table." Most curious of all was the order: "Cut out +verse with words: 'I'm a little prairie flower growing wilder every +hour.'" + +William Vaughn Moody's "The Faith Healer" was considered a singularly +dignified and moving play in its dramatic form, but the picture ran into +difficulties, as usual, in Pennsylvania. "Eliminate subtitle," came the +order: "'Your power is not gone because you love--but because your love +has fallen on one unworthy.'" As this is a fair statement of the idea +upon which Mr. Moody built his play, it cannot be said that anything +which the moving-picture producers brought in was responsible. + +Throughout the rest of the world one may thumb his nose as a gesture of +scorn and contempt, but in Pennsylvania this becomes a public menace not +to be tolerated. "Reel Two"--we find in the records of the Board of +Censors--"eliminate view of man thumbing his nose at lion." + +As a matter of fact, no rule of censorship of any sort may be framed so +wisely that by and by some circumstance will not arise under which it +may be turned to an absurd use. Any censors must have rules. No man can +continue to make decisions all day long. He must eventually fall back +upon the bulwark of printed instructions. I observed an instance of this +sort during the war. A rule was passed forbidding the mention of any +arrivals from America in France. An American captain who had brought his +wife to France ran into this regulation when he attempted to cable home +to his parents the news that he had become the proud parent of a son. +"Charles Jr. arrived to-day. Weight eight pounds. Everything fine," he +wrote on the cable blank, only to have it turned back to him with the +information: "We're not allowed to pass any messages about arrivals." + +It is almost as difficult for babies to arrive in motion-picture +stories. Any suggestion which would tend to weaken the faith of any one +in storks or cabbage leaves is generally frowned upon. For a time +picture producers felt that they had discovered a safe device which +would inform adults and create no impression in the minds of younger +patrons, and pictures were filled with mothers knitting baby clothes. +This has now been ruled out as quite too shocking. "Eliminate scene +showing Bobby holding up baby's sock," the Pennsylvania body has ruled, +"and scene showing Bobby standing with wife kissing baby's sock." In +fact, there is nothing at all to be done except to make all screen +babies so many Topsies who never were born at all. Even such a simple +sentence as "And Julia Duane faced the most sacred duties of a woman's +life alone" was barred. + +Like poor Julia Duane, the moving-picture producers have one problem +which they must face alone. They are confronted with difficulties +unknown to the publisher of books and the producer of plays. The movie +man must frame a story which will interest grown-ups and at the same +time contain nothing which will disturb the innocence of the youngest +child in the audience. At any rate, that is the task to which he is held +by most censorship boards. The publisher of a novel knows that there are +certain things which he may not permit to reach print without being +liable to prosecution, but at the same time he knows that he is +perfectly safe in allowing many things in his book which are not +suitable for a four-year-old-child. There is no prospect that the +four-year-old child will read it. Just so when a manager undertakes a +production of Ibsen's "Ghosts" it never enters into his head just what +its effect will be on little boys of three. But these same youngsters +will be at the picture house, and the standards of what is suitable for +them must be standards of all the others. There should, of course, be +some way of grading movie houses. There should be theaters for children +under fourteen, others with subjects suitable for spectators from +fourteen to sixty, and then small select theaters for those more than +sixty in which caution might be thrown to the winds. + +Another of the difficulties of the unfortunate moving-picture producer +is the fact that censorship bodies in various parts of the country have +a faculty of seldom hitting on the same thing as objectionable. There +is, of course, a National Association of the Motion Picture Industry +which maintains its own censorship through which 92 per cent of all the +pictures exhibited in America are passed, but in addition to that +Pennsylvania, Ohio, Kansas, and Maryland have State censorship boards, +and there are numerous local bodies as well. Cecil B. De Mille +complained, shortly after his version of Geraldine Farrar in "Carmen" +was launched, that at that time there were approximately thirty-five +censorship organizations in the United States. These included various +State and municipal boards. Every one of these thirty-odd organizations +censored "Carmen." No two boards censored the same thing. In other +words, what was morally acceptable to New York was highly immoral in +Pennsylvania. What Pennsylvania might see with impunity was considered +dangerous to the citizens of an adjoining State. + +Of course the question at issue is whether the potential immoral picture +shall first be shown at the producer's or the exhibitor's risk, or +whether censorship shall come first before there has been any public +showing. The contention is made by some of the moving-picture people +that they should have the same freedom given to people who deal in print +to publish first and take the consequences later if any statute has been +violated. The right to free speech, in fact, has been invoked in favor +of the motion picture as a medium of expression. This view had the +support of the late Mayor Gaynor, an excellent jurist, but apparently it +is not the view held by various State courts which have passed upon the +constitutionality of censorship laws. When the aldermen of New York City +passed an ordinance providing for the censorship of movies Mayor Gaynor +wrote: "If this ordinance is legal, then a similar ordinance in respect +of the newspapers and the theaters generally would be legal. Once revive +the censorship and there is no telling how far we may carry it." + +No matter what the law, the real basis of censorship is the public +itself. Persons who feel that tighter lines of censorship must be drawn +and new bodies established go on the theory that there is a great demand +for the salacious moving-picture show. But there is no continuing appeal +in dirt in the theater. It does not permanently sell the biggest of the +magazines or the newspapers. And naturally it is not a paying commodity +to the moving-picture men. The best that the censor can do is to guess +what will be offensive to the general public. The general public can be +much more accurate in its reactions. It knows. And it is prepared to +stay away from the dirty show in droves. + + + + +XLII + +CENSORING THE CENSOR + + +Mice and canaries were sometimes employed in France to detect the +presence of gas. When these little things began to die in their cages +the soldiers knew that the air had become dangerous. Some such system +should be devised for censorship to make it practical. Even with the +weight of authority behind him no bland person, with virtue obviously +unruffled, is altogether convincing when he announces that the book he +has just read or the moving picture he has seen is so hideously immoral +that it constitutes a danger to the community. For my part I always feel +that if he can stand it so can I. To the best of my knowledge and +belief, Mr. Sumner was not swayed from his usual course of life by so +much as a single peccadillo for all of _Jurgen_. His indignation was +altogether altruistic. He feared for the fate of weaker men and women. + +Every theatrical manager, every motion picture producer, and every +publisher knows, to his sorrow, that the business of estimating the +effect of any piece of imaginative work upon others is precarious and +uncertain. Genius would be required to predict accurately the reaction +of the general public to any set piece which seems immoral to the +censor. For instance, why was Mr. Sumner so certain that _Jurgen_, +which inspired him with horror and loathing, would prove a persuasive +temptation to all the rest of the world? Censorship is serious and +drastic business; it should never rest merely upon guesswork and more +particularly not upon the guesses of men so staunch in morals that they +are obviously of distant kin to the rest of humanity. + +The censor should be a person of a type capable of being blasted for the +sins of the people. His job can be elevated to dignity only when the +world realizes that he runs horrid risks. If we should choose our +censors from fallible folk we might have proof instead of opinions. +Suppose the censor of Jurgen had been some one other than Mr. Sumner, +some one so unlike the head of the vice society that after reading Mr. +Cabell's book he had come out of his room, not quivering with rage, but +leering and wearing vine leaves. In such case the rest would be easy. It +would merely be necessary to shadow the censor until he met his first +dryad. His wink would be sufficient evidence and might serve as a cue +for the rescuers to rush forward and save him. Of course there would +then be no necessity for legal proceedings in regard to the book. Expert +testimony as to its possible effects would be irrelevant. We would know +and we could all join cheerfully in the bonfire. + +To my mind there are three possible positions which may logically be +taken concerning censorship. It might be entrusted to the wisest man in +the world, to a series of average men,--or be abolished. Unfortunately +it has been our experience that there is a distinct affinity between +fools and censorship. It seems to be one of those treading grounds where +they rush in. To be sure, we ought to admit a prejudice at the outset +and acknowledge that we were a reporter in France during the war at a +time when censors seemed a little more ridiculous than usual. We still +remember the young American lieutenant who held up a story of a boxing +match in Saint-Nazaire because the reporter wrote, "In the fourth round +MacBeth landed a nice right on the Irishman's nose and the claret began +to flow." "I'm sorry," said the censor, "but we have strict orders from +Major Palmer that no mention of wine or liquor is to be allowed in any +story about the American army." + +Nor have we forgotten the story of General Petain's mustache. "Why," +asked Junius Wood of the _Globe_, "have you held up my story? All the +rest have gone." + +"Unfortunately," answered the courteous Frenchman, "you have twice used +the expression General Petain's 'white mustache.' I might stretch a +point and let you say 'gray mustache,' but I should much prefer to have +you say 'blond mustache.'" + +"Oh, make it green with purple spots," said Junius. + +The use of average men in censorship would necessitate sacrifices to the +persuasive seduction of immorality, as I have suggested, and moreover +there are very few average men. Accordingly, I am prepared to abandon +that plan of censorship. The wisest man in the world is too old and too +busy with his plays and has announced that he will never come to +America. Accordingly we venture to suggest that in time of peace we try +to get along without any censorship of plays or books or moving +pictures. I have no desire, of course, to leave Mr. Sumner +unemployed--it would perhaps be only fair to allow him to slosh around +among the picture post cards. + +Once official censorship had been officially abolished, a strong and +able censorship would immediately arise consisting of the playgoing and +reading public. It is a rather offensive error to assume that the vast +majority of folk in America are rarin' to get to dirty books and dirty +plays. It is the experience of New York managers that the run of the +merely salacious play is generally short. The success which a few nasty +books have had has been largely because of the fact that they came close +to the line of things which are forbidden. Without the prohibition there +would be little popularity. + +To save myself from the charge of hypocrisy I should add that personally +I believe there ought to be a certain amount of what we now know as +immoral writing. It would do no harm in a community brought up to take +it or let it alone. It is well enough for the reading public and the +critic to use terms such as moral or immoral, but they hardly belong in +the vocabulary of an artist. I have heard it said that before Lucifer +left Heaven there were no such things as virtues and vices. The world +was equipped with a certain number of traits which were qualities +without distinction or shame. But when Lucifer and the heavenly hosts +drifted into their eternal warfare it was agreed that each side should +recruit an equal number of these human, and at that time unclassified, +qualities. A coin was tossed and, whether by fair chance or sharp +miracle, Heaven won. + +"I choose Blessedness," said the Captain of the Angels. It should be +explained that the selection was made without previous medical +examination, and Blessedness seemed at that time a much more robust +recruit than he has since turned out to be. A tendency to flat foot is +always hard to detect. + +"Give me Beauty," said Lucifer, and from that day to this the artists of +the world have been divided into two camps--those who wished to achieve +beauty and those who wished to achieve blessedness, those who wanted to +make the world better and those who were indifferent to its salvation if +they could only succeed in making it a little more personable. + +However, the conflict is not quite so simple as that. Late in the +afternoon when the Captain of the Angels had picked Unselfishness and +Moderation and Faith and Hope and Abstinence, and Lucifer had called to +his side Pride and Gluttony and Anger and Lust and Tactlessness, there +remained only two more qualities to be apportioned to the contending +sides. One of them was Sloth, who was obviously overweight, and the +other was a furtive little fellow with his cap down over his eyes. + +"What's your name?" said the Captain of the Angels. + +"Truth," stammered the little fellow. + +"Speak up," said the Captain of the Angels so sharply that Lucifer +remonstrated, saying, "Hold on there; Anger's on my side." + +"Truth," said the little fellow again but with the same somewhat +indistinct utterance which has always been so puzzling to the world. + +"I don't understand you," said the Captain of the Angels, "but if it's +between you and Sloth I'll take a chance with you. Stop at the locker +room and get your harp and halo." + +Now to-day even Lucifer will admit, if you get him in a corner, that +Truth is the mightiest warrior of them all. The only trouble is his +truancy. Sometimes he can't be found for centuries. Then he will bob up +unexpectedly, break a few heads, and skip away. Nothing can stand +against him. Lucifer's best ally, Beauty, is no match for him. Truth +holds every decision. But the trouble is that he still keeps his cap +down over his eyes, and he still mumbles his words, and nobody knows him +until he is at least fifty years away and moving fast. At that distance +he seems to grow bigger, and he invariably reaches into his back pocket +and puts on his halo so that people can recognize him. Still, when he +comes along the next time and is face to face with any man of this +world, the mortal is pretty sure to say, "Your face is familiar but I +can't seem to place you." + +There is no denying that he isn't a good mixer. But for that he would be +an excellent censor. + + * * * * * + + +Etext transcriber's note: + +The following changes have been made from the original text: + +Frudian=>Freudian + +too old and two busy=>too old and too busy + +Minnegerode=>Minnigerode [Meade Minnigerode (1887-1967)] + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Pieces of Hate, by Heywood Broun + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PIECES OF HATE *** + +***** This file should be named 35679.txt or 35679.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/5/6/7/35679/ + +Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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