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The New York herald. [volume] (New York, N.Y.) 1920-1924, May 14, 1922, SECTION EIGHT, Image 102

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The Bool
The Ultei
Contributors, I had decided h
You for sending a good]
Of stuff. Then I mused?anc
"They benefit lots more t
Tf blessings they seek?and 1
Why .shouldn't they writ
Why shouldn't they send me
Of letters and poems a vc
bolsters their chances of
They have this in mind, ]
Jhat it is more blessed to give
In the Testament) than
In a letter we received from our
Mead, George I*, the other day, we
find this merry hit: "In conversa
tkm with K last night I asked
him 'Do you revise your stuff much f
*Oh, yes,* answered he, 1 hack it up
after I write it.' "That makes you a
hack writer, what?' sez I, dodging
the dictionary be chucked at me."
Some weeks ago Mr. John Francis
Harvey. 312 Liberty Building, Philadelphia,
sent us one of the merriest
poems we've read in a long time.
Mr. Harvey's poem is too long (and,
alaa, a bit too unmetrical) to print;
hot the gentleman has an excellent
aehae of humor, and we think we
ought to tell you something about
Ids offering.
Mr. Harvey, It seems, knows nothtag
about books, not because be Is a
feonehead, he insists, but because?
and we admire bis frankness?If he
read books he wouldn't have time for
golfing, baseball and other things.
One day be picked up The Herald
Book Section and vac puzzled by
aome of the titles mentioned in The
Book Factory. His poem is a questionnaire
in which be asks us, among
other things:
Ia^El Supremo" the name of a cigar?
Za this "Jurgen" a n?w brand of choco
late bar?
Is "The Red Badge of Courage" (I've
had a dozen of those)
Another name for a bloody nose?
Do "Sleeping Fires" sleep In a bed?
.Why eat "Plum Pudding" when there's
After rubbing elbows with wildeyed
bibliomaniacs (and, gosh, what
bores they are when they want to
be!) it Is a pleasure to hear from a
man who doesn't take books too seriously.
Sir: To real your satire on Zane
Grey's stories makes me wonder if
you have ever traveled west of the
Mississippi. Perhaps if you traveled
the byways of our West you might
have the good fortune to meet some
tha fn -' ?*
? ^i ciiiaiuiug jjiunet-rs wno
So gloriously helped to open the way
to the Pacific and would thrill at
the strange tales of lawlessness and
heroic sacrifice so simply told by
these time-worn men who lived
through those years of struggle. It
Is the West of the nineteenth century/
not the West of the twentieth
eeutnry, of which Mr. Grey writes,
and I think it is well for us to have
preserved In fiction romantic stories
of our romantic West. I am glad
| Aspects of E
Continued from Preceding Page. I
??? /
he acquired his amazing knowledge
of the streets of Paris.
After his failure m a publisher
tn the Rue des Marais Saint-Germain
Balzac went to live in other
streets of the left bank of the Seine, I
llret In the Rue de Tournon and
then In tho Rue Cassini, near the
Observatoire. In the latter street
be wrote, among: others, "La Peau
de Chagrin," "Eugenie Grandet,";
**Le Lys dans la Vallee," "Le Medecln
de Campagme," "Le P*rre Goriot," "Le
Cure de Tours," "Cesar Bfrotteau,"
"Louis Lambert," "La Duchesse de,
Langeais," "La Femme de Trento
Ans" and the first part of "Illusions
Perdues." It was this period of Balzac's
life that his new publisher,
Werdet, described when ba wrote;
He usually goes to bed at |
o'clock, after a light dinner. 1
: Factory
nor Motive.
3 thank
ly supply N
i don't think me a crank?
ban I.
what mortal does not??
e for my colyum?
of wheezes a tot?
heaven. High-souled,
[ believe:?
s (as is told *
to receive!
that Mr. Grey has been sifted with :
the power to make the old West live
again and regret that any one would
attempt to misrepresent the "ancient
cattleman" and cheat him of hie ro
mantic heritage. ,
Mount Vernon, N. T.
Bless you, Mr. Smith, nothing was
further from our intent than to
"cheat the 'ancient cattleman' of his ,
romantic heritage." We don't doubt ,
that the West was once a Wild and ,
Woolly place and we agree that the
preservation of the riotous doings of 1
the old days, or "carryings-on," as <
they call 'em out Big Horn (Wyo.) j
way, should be preserved in Ameri- j
ran lottors?or should wo rav #>nis
tote??but the Bill Hart scenarios of
Zane Grey will never accomplish 1
this. 1
Perhaps the -old West was even a
more exciting place than Zane Grey
makes it, hut, to us, at least, everything
seems wildly exaggerated in his
books. This is because it takes an
artist to handle material of this kind
and make it sound plausible; and
Mr. Grey is not an artist. The poignancy
of the struggles of the old
pioneers is completely lost on him.
Herbert Quick, on the other hand, let ,
something of this get under his skin,
and as a consequence wrote a good
Y\rmlr "
V icwiu cmai a s run/ / x<aui?
Grey is primarily interested in shots
in the night, struggles on precipices
and red-blooded tilts *neath the
orange sun for the blue-eyed daughter
of the foreman (while the purple
sage looks sagely on).
And much of his work is painfully
obvious. We recall in one Instance,
"The Light of Western Stars," that
we knew on Page 25 that the
drunken roughneck who insults the
sweet young thing from the East, on
Page 3 or 4 (or somewhere in the
first ten pages), would prove a he i
man In the end and?but can't you <
guess the rest, as we did? When he 1
k> uuviuus line mac we can't stand <
him at all; when he disguises the 1
bunk he can be entertaining and we 1
manage to gulp the stuff down. But <
the bunk is always there. <
Mr. Grey is a good landscape artist I
but a poor portrait painter; his de- 1
scriptions of Western country are 1
frequently admirable, his characters
are unreal, wooden. We suggest to i
Mr. Grey that he read Dane Coo- '
lidge's "The Man Killers," which, as 1
poor a book as it is, is written with ;
an appreciation of the cowboy's hu- i
manness and sense of humor. The i
conversations, at least, arv; occasion- 1
ally real. Even so ardent e Zane i
Grey fan as Mr. Smith will not contend,
we are sure, that people in real
life ever talk?or talked?as the
characters do in a Grey novel.
Yes, Mr. Smith, we have been West
of the Mississippi. We spent several
months on ranches in Wyoming and
>alzac's Paris
I washed down by a glass of VouTTay.
He is again at his desk by
two in the morning. He writes
from that time to si*, refreshing
himself occasionally with coffee
from a pot kept in the fireplace.
At six he has his bath, in which
he remains for an hour, meditating.
Then I call; I am admitted
to bring proofs, to take away the
corrected ones, and to wrest, if
possible, fresh manuscript from
him. From nine he writes till
noon, when he breakfasts on two
boiled eggs and some bread, and
from one to six the labor of correction
goes on again. This life
lasts for six weeks or two months,
during which time he refuses to
see even his most intimate
friends; then he plunges again
into the ordinary affairs of life,
or mysteriously disappears, to be
next heard of in some distant part
of France, or perhaps in Corsica,
Sardinia or Italy. ^
Montana two years ago and thrilled
the cowboys with our stories of the
gunmen and gangsters of the East.
Dear Ed: I read In ycur valued
Book Factory an item where it says
Walter de la Mare's Midget (the one
who wrote the memoirs) ought to
move to Philadelphia, because there
they let persons under 31 inches iu
neignt ride free on the street cars.
Well, Ed, that's not as funny as It
sounds, even though you meant it
seriously, because I know of a case
where ten midgets (Singer's vaudeville
troupe, the whole lot of them)
traveled from their hotel to the station
in a taxicab out in San Francisco
and the taxi driver tried to
charge them double rates on account
of there being so many, whereas they
A Whit
By A. B. Farquhar in collaboration
with Samuel Crowther.
Doubleday, Page & Co.
THIS is an autobiography with a
fanciful and misleading title; a
uwe wnicn aoes noi suggest tne
really human quality of the book,
rhe author, Arthur B. Farquhar of
fork, Pa., really did have a great
youthful ambition to make a million
lollars and he got his wish long ago,
jut the making of millions is not the
jackbone of his story.
Mr. Farquhar is in his eighty'ourth
year. In 1858, when he wae
19, he left his home in Sandy Spring,
Maryland, and went to New York to
isk millionaires how to make a millon;
not that he was greedy for
noney but that he wished to be sucressful
in business. The moment he
?ot off the ferry this raw country
ad went to the Astor House, left his
bag and started for William B.
As tor's office:
IT? ko/1 i:**u W?
mu iitLiu luuiris. in me
outer was au old round shouldered
clerk and In the back room, writing
at a plain board table, was a
heavy set man with a full face and
bushy brows, whom I Instantly
recognized from the picture in the
magazine as Mr. Astor. The furniture
was uhpoiiahed, there were
no decorations of any kind, and a
rough mental inventory gave me
a value of about $20.
The old clerk refused to let the
rustic youth see Mr. Astor, "and then
made a grab at my coat as I tried to
dive past him. I shook him off and
landed somewhat ruffled before the
desk of the richest man in the country."
Astor looked up from his writing
and snapped, "Well, boy, what
Jo you want?" Tonne Farnnhoi
iroiv up a chair beside New York's
greatest landlord and said, "I want
to know bow to make a million dollars."
"Do you want to make yourself
as miserable as I am," said Astor,
"and stay up all day and half the
night to keep people from cheating
you? I never made any money myself.
It takes all my- time to collect
rents. There is nothing in it. I am
too afraid that people will cheat me
and. Id spite of everything, they do
cheat me. If you really want to
know how to make money you had
better go and see some of the men
who have made money and not waste
time with men who do nothing but
try to keep and increase what they
have." The lad pulled out his list of
rich men and Astor commented
briefly on them. "I'll tell them Mr.
Astor sent me," said the shrewd |
Maryland youth. Astor protested,
but Farquhar insisted, and prevailed.
The boy went to John A. Stevens's
office, but that great man declaring
that he did not make money but took
care of other people's, sent Farquhar
to George S. Coe, vice-president of
the American Exchange Bank. The
magic of Astor's name carried Farquhar
into a meeting of the bank's
directorate, and there ne met several
rich men of the day.
James Gordon Bennett, the founder
of Thb New York Herald, was next
on the visiting list:
I had no trouble seeing Mr. Bennett
He was in a little office all
alone at a plain desk. I started to
tell him what I wanted, but before
I had said half a dozen words and
was just beginning to realize that
his remarkably keen eyes were
looking right through me, he broke |
in: "Look here, young roan, you
MAY 14, 1922.
told the judge they never had to pay
for more than five ordinary sized
people In other cities, and he agreed
with them; however they missed
their train.
Furthermore, Floyd Scott, who is
an old hand with midgets, tells us
that one of this same troupe is a
dwarf only from the waist down, beine
of normal niza ahovo nnS that
,once he was in swimming at Monterey
and was standing waist deep
3 a bare few inches of water when
ur men come up on the dock and
asked "How is the water?" and the
dwarf answered "Fine," and they ail
dove in and broke their necks. But
it don't sound hardly probable, does
it, Ed?
I have owed you a letter ever since
I promised to write about my tour of
the Bowery with A. P. Herbert last
September, but the truth is we didnt
get to the Bowerie because Herbert]
tington of the
look as though you had not eaten i
This was the tact. Bennett sent
the boy away with a card to the
head waiter at the Astor House, telling
him that he should be at his best
whenever he saw anybody. At the
end of a hearty breakfast Farquhar
asked for bis bill, and the head waiter
told him that it was Mr. Bennett's
treat. Nor would Bennett accept
payment. "The important thing for
you to know," said Bennett, "is that
you must byik up a health account.
I am never sick. I never take a
vacation. But I always try to be in
bed early enough to get a good
night's sleep." Farquhar found it
good advice.
A. T. Stewart was harder to get at,
but Farquhar managed it, with the
advice of one of the merchant's em
ployecs, by following Mr. Stewart
from bis boose to a bus and taking
a seat beside him. Stewari looked
"cold, stern and unapproachable,"
but of course he fell before ihe Marylander's
impetuous charge. Farquhar
ask?d Stewart if it were true
that in selecting assistants ht preferred
men who had failed in business,
and Stewart replied: "It is a
great advantage for an employer to
have men who have been in business
for themselves and who have failed.
The mere fact that they start in
business shows that they have initiative
and ambition, which are very
valuable qualities. The fact that
they fail on their own account demonstrates
to them that their best
interest lies in casting their lot with
those who know more about business
than they do. Of course these men
*uuov usic wiku uuuesny.
Stewart was the only man Farqnhar
met that day who looked and
acted the rich man's part. But the
others, like Stewart, were the heads
of one-man concerns.
TTiey were despots, absolute
rulers, and they were inclined to
be paternal. All of them gave
orders where the modern executive
gives suggestions. They
were, as I compare them with
men of similar caliber to-day,
more arbitrary and in their business
affairs more self-centered.
They worked with things while
the man of to-day works with
people. The type of big man to
day is more interested in humanity
and thipks considerably
less of himself and more of those
about him.
About twenty-five years ago Mr.
Farquhar, who had then run his
million to earth, was talking with
Andrew Carnegie and told the steeli
master of his practice of reaching
the office at 7 o'clock in the morning.
"You must be a lazy man," said Carnegie
with a laugh, "if it takes you
ten hours to do a day's work. I get
good men and never give them orders.
My directions seldom go beyond
suggestions. Here in the morning
1 get reports from them. Within
an hour I have disposed of everything,
the day's work is done and I
am reaay to go out ana enjoy myself."
Carnegie, Mr. Farquhar comments,
was a manager; the elder
captains were individualists.
Mr. Farquhar was a rising young
business man in York when the civil
war broke out. Being married, he
joined the home guard cavalry. After
Chancellorsville tJen. Lee pushed
northward so vigorously that late in
June, 1863, it became apparent that
York would be taken and perhaps
sacked. Farquhar rode out and saw
Gen. Gordon, who agreed that York
would be spared if the townspeoplefurnished
certain supplies. Gordon
and Early rode into York the next'
day and presented their demands,
which included 165 barrels of flour,
was in no condition what with being
feted and dined all over Chicago and
Pelham and one thing and another
(and you know how one thing does
lead to another, when you can get
it), so wo simply went to a sacred
Sunday evening concert at the Palace,
where Mr. Herbert had a fine
time. Alter tnat he sang tne ramous
parody he and J. C. Squire wrote
called "Little Billee" to Stuart Rose
and me, accompanying himself prettily
on the piano at Baroni's restaurant
A/ter that?but dear me, these
intimate revelations of famous people
are being overdone, don't you thinkV
Tours rsfy.,
Ute Pome at Top of Colyum.)
Shakespeare indorses Bible: "It
blesses him that gives." (The Mer*
chant of Venice.)
21,000 pounds of bacon or pork,
sugar, coffee, molasses, 2,000 pairs of
shoes, 1,000 pairs of socks, 1,000 felt
hats and 1100,000 in United States
money. The town could not raise so
much currency and Farquhar compromised
with Early by giving hint
$28,610 and a, due bill for the balance.
Then came the news that the troops
were needed at Gettysburg and away
went the rebels. They never collected
on the due bill.
As soon as the news of the Confederate
defeat at Gettysburg reached
York the pinchbeck patriots of that
town crawled out of their holes and
assailed Farquhar as a rebel and a
traitor. He was pointed out as "the
man who sold York." Farquhar, who
i felt that he and his committee had
I saved York, perhaps from being
I burned, went to Washington and saw
John Hay, who praised his action.
He saw Lincoln, too, and received
the President's thanks.
Farquhar, who assisted in caring
for the wounded at the battle ot
Gettysburg, saw Pickett's charge:
I saw the men rushing forward
and dropping, wave after wave,
each wave gaining a few rods over
the last. And then they stopped
and seemed almost to clutch, as
does a drowning man at a stick,
and went down. They were near
enough for me to see their faces
and I shall never forget that
Farquhar was at Gettysburg again
when Lincoln made the" great address
and he was one of the few
that were immediately impressed.
Most of the audience, he says, really
did not know what they had beard.
A year later Farquhar met Horace
Greeeley and chaffed him about the
manner in which Greeley had dis
| missea Lincoln's "few remarks."*
Greeley replied: "It was one of the
many times we were damn fools."
Mr. Farquhar's recollections of
great Americans?and he has known
every President since Lincoln?are
worth reading. Much of the interest
of the book, though, lies in his description
of the business methods ol
his youth and middle age as compared
with those of to-day. Business,
he says, has lost something of
craftsmanship, but its methods haw
improved. The same amount of
work to-day brings better results
than it used to. And business ts
more moral now:
"The leading men were as a rule
scrupulously honest: many of the
smaller men were not. arid even in
the largest and most reputable concerns
It was sometimes considered
quite legitimate to get a prospective
customer drunk in order to capture
his order. In fact, drinking was
quite commonly/ associated with
selling and I have heard concerns
boast that they had salesmen who
could outdrink all comers?for, of
course, it spoiled the whole game
if by any chance the salesman got
drunk ahead of the customer." The
author declares that in spite of Mr.
Carnegie's ideas, he himself has
thrived on hard work. In 1916, at
the age of 78, he went to France as
a member of the United States Industrial
Little, Brown A Co. announce for
publication on Mav 27 "The Su
preme Court in United States History,"
by Charles Warren, formerly
Assistant Attorney-General of the
United States, and author of "A
History of the American Bar." The
history of the Supreme Court is
considered from its beginning in
1789, not from the standpoint of law
but as a living element and a very
vital factor in the development fll
the nation. . ..

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