[Illustration]




  _The_

  Illiterate Digest

  BY

  WILL ROGERS

  [Illustration]

  ALBERT & CHARLES BONI
  NEW YORK      1924




  _Copyright, 1924, by Albert & Charles Boni_


  Copyright, 1923, 1924, by McNaught Syndicate, Inc.

  PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA




TWO LETTERS AND A DEDICATION


Most Books have to have an Excuse by some one for the Author, but this
is the only Book ever written that has to have an Alibi for the Title,
too. About 4 years ago, out in California, I was writing sayings for
the Screen and I called it the Illiterate Digest. Well one day up bobs
the following letter from this N. Y. Lawyer. It and the answer are
absolutely just as they were exchanged at that time.


                WILLIAM BEVERLY WINSLOW LAWYER

                     55 Liberty Street,
                      New York, N. Y.

                                            _Nov. 5th, 1920._

  Will Rogers, Esq.,
    c/o Goldwyn Studios,
      Culver City, Calif.

  _Dear Sir_:--

 _My client, the Funk & Wagnalls Company, publishers of the “Literary
 Digest” have requested me to write to you in regard to your use of
 the phrase, “The Illiterate Digest,” as a title to a moving picture
 subject gotten up by you, the consequence of which may have escaped
 your consideration._

 _For more than two years past it (my client) has placed upon the
 moving picture screen a short reel subject carrying the title “Topics
 of the Day” selected from the Press of the World by “The Literary
 Digest.” This subject has achieved a wide popularity both because of
 the character and renown of “The Literary Digest” and through the
 expenditure of much time, effort and money by its owners in presenting
 the subject to the public. “The Literary Digest” is a publication
 nearly thirty years old, and from a small beginning has become
 probably the most influential weekly publication in the world. Its
 name and the phrase “Topics of the Day” are fully covered by usage as
 trademarks as well as by registration as such in the United States
 Patent Office._

 _During several months past your “title,” “The Illiterate Digest”
 has been repeatedly called to our attention and we are told that the
 prestige of “The Literary Digest” is being lowered by the subject
 matter of your film as well as by the title of your film because the
 public naturally confuse the two subjects. We are also told that
 exhibitors are being misled by the similarity of titles and that
 some of them install your subject in the expectation that they are
 securing “The Literary Digest Topics of the Day.”_

 _It seems to me self-evident that your title would scarcely have
 been thought of or adopted had it not been for our magazine and for
 our film. If this were not the case the title which you use would be
 without significance to the general public._

 _I have advised the publishers that they may proceed against you
 through the Federal Trade Commission in Washington calling upon you
 to there defend yourself against the charge of “unfair competition,”
 because of your simulation of their title, or that they can proceed
 against you, the producers of your film, its distributors and
 exhibitors in court for an injunction restraining you from use of the
 title, “The Illiterate Digest.”_

 _Before, however, instituting any proceedings in either direction they
 have suggested that I write directly to you to see if your sense of
 fairness will not cause you to voluntarily withdraw the use of the
 objectionable title._

 _Unless I hear favorably from you on or before the first of December,
 I shall conclude that you are not willing to accede to this suggestion
 and will take such steps as I may deem advisable._

                                           _Yours truly_,

  _WBW/als_

                                  (signed) William Beverly Winslow.

                                           _Los Angeles, Cal.,
                                              Nov. 15, 1920._

  MR WM BEVERLY WINSLOW,

  _Dear Sir_,

 _Your letter in regard to my competition with the Literary Digest
 received and I never felt as swelled up in my life, And am glad you
 wrote directly to me instead of communicating with my Lawyers, As I
 have not yet reached that stage of prominence where I was commiting
 unlawful acts and requireing a Lawyer, Now if the Literary Digest
 feels that the competition is to keen for them--to show you my good
 sportsmanship I will withdraw, In fact I had already quit as the
 gentlemen who put it out were behind in their payments and my humor
 kinder waned, in fact after a few weeks of no payments I couldent
 think of a single joke. And now I want to inform you truly that this
 is the first that I knew my Title of the Illiterate Digest was an
 infringement on yours as they mean the direct opposite, If a magazine
 was published called Yes and another Bird put one out called No I
 suppose he would be infringeing. But you are a Lawyer and its your
 business to change the meaning of words, so I lose before I start,_

 _Now I have not written for these people in months and they havent
 put any gags out unless it is some of the old ones still playing.
 If they are using gags that I wrote on topical things 6 months ago
 then I must admit that they would be in competition with the ones the
 Literary Digest Screen uses now. I will gladly furnish you with their
 address, in case you want to enter suit, And as I have no Lawyer you
 can take my case too and whatever we get out of them we will split at
 the usual Lawyer rates of 80-20, the client of course getting the 20,_

 _Now you inform your Editors at once that their most dangerous rival
 has withdrawn, and that they can go ahead and resume publication, But
 you inform Your clients that if they ever take up Rope Throwing or
 chewing gum that I will consider it a direct infringement of my rights
 and will protect it with one of the best Kosher Lawyers in Oklahoma,_

 _Your letter to me telling me I was in competition with the Digest
 would be just like Harding writing to Cox and telling him he took some
 of his votes,_

 _So long Beverly if you ever come to California, come out to Beverly
 where I live and see me_

                                           _Illiterately yours_
                                                       WILL ROGERS.

When I sent him my answer I read it to some of the Movie Company I was
working with at the time and they kept asking me afterwards if I had
received an answer. I did not, and I just thought, oh well, there I go
and waste a letter on some High Brow Lawyer with no sense of humor. I
was sore at myself for writing it. About 6 months later I came back to
join the Follies and who should come to call on me but the nicest old
Gentleman I had ever met, especially in the law profession. He was the
one I had written the letter to, and he had had Photographic Copies
made of my letter and had given them around to all his Lawyer friends.

So it is to him and his sense of humor, that I dedicate this Volume
of deep thought. I might also state that the Literary Digest was
broad-minded enough to realize that there was room for both, and I want
to thank them for allowing me to announce my Illiteracy publicly.




CONTENTS


                                                            PAGE

  TWO LETTERS AND A DEDICATION                                 5

  INTRODUCTION                                                17

  BREAKING INTO THE WRITING GAME                              27

  SETTLING THE CORSET PROBLEM OF THIS COUNTRY                 39

  HOW TO TELL A BUTLER, AND OTHER ETIQUETTE                   47

  DEFENDING MY SOUP PLATE POSITION                            57

  HELPING THE GIRLS WITH THEIR INCOME TAXES                   69

  THE GREATEST DOCUMENT IN AMERICAN LITERATURE                77

  PROSPECTUS FOR “THE REMODELED CHEWING GUM CORPORATION”      87

  INSIDE STUFF ON THE TOTAL ECLIPSE                           99

  IT’S TIME SOMEBODY SAID A WORD FOR CALIFORNIA              111

  PROMOTING THE OCEANLESS ONE-PIECE SUIT                     121

  WARNING TO JOKERS: LAY OFF THE PRINCE                      131

  SPRING IS HERE, WITH POEMS AND BATH TUBS                   141

  MY FORD AND OTHER POLITICAL SELF-STARTERS                  151

  WILSON COULD LAUGH AT A JOKE ON HIMSELF                    159

  A JOB WITH THE JAMES FAMILY                                171

  LET’S TREAT OUR PRESIDENTS LIKE HUMAN BEINGS               181

  WHAT WITH FRUIT JUICE AND CONSOMME, IT WAS A WILD PARTY    193

  WHAT WE NEED IS MORE FRED STONES                           203

  ONE OIL LAWYER PER BARREL                                  217

  ANOTHER CONFESSION IN THE OIL SCANDAL                      227

  THE WHOLE TRUTH AND NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH                  237

  WELL, WHO IS PRUNES?                                       249

  POLITICS GETTING READY TO JELL                             261

  TWO LONG-LOST FRIENDS FOUND AT LAST                        269

  THEY NOMINATED EVERYBODY BUT THE FOUR HORSEMEN             279

  IN THE MIDST OF A 7-YEAR HITCH                             287

  “WILL ROGERS, JR.” REPORTS THE CONVENTION FOR HIS
    FATHER, WORN OUT BY LONG SERVICE                         297

  ROPING A CRITIC                                            305

  “THE WORLD TOMORROW,” AFTER THE MANNER OF GREAT
    JOURNALISTS[A]                                           313

  SETTLING THE AFFAIRS OF THE WORLD IN MY OWN WAY            323

  A SKINNY DAKOTA KID WHO MADE GOOD                          333

  TAKING THE CURE, BY THE SHORES OF CAT CREEK                345


FOOTNOTES:

[A] With apologies to Arthur Brisbane.




ILLUSTRATIONS


  The Illiterate Digest Office                    _Frontispiece_

                                                            PAGE

  You Are Going to Get the Low-Down on Some of Those Birds
    Who Are Sending Home the Radish-Seed                      26

  They Are Carpeting All the Halls of the Senate So in Case
    of a Fall There Will Be No Serious Loss                   31

  As I Opened the Door to Let Her in 2 of Our Dogs and 4 Cats
    Came In                                                   46

  Birds That Never Can Tell the Servants from the Guests      53

  I Would Invent a Triangle Shape Slide That Could Be Pushed
    Under the Plate                                           56

  Song Writers Should Be Segregated and Made to Sing Their
    Songs to Each Other                                       76

  Why Can’t I Do Something With Second-Hand Gum?              86

  The More Glasses You Used the More Eclipse You Could See    98

  I Just Happened to Remember That No One Had Said a Word
    for California                                           110

  I Want to Do Something for the Home Town Girl So She Can
    Stay at Home and Show How and What She Is Made Of        120

  So I Got Me Some of Those Long-Handled Wooden Hammers and
    Started in at Polo                                       130

  The Family Wash-Tub Was Dragged Up By the Fire             140

  Finally a Warden Knocked at My Dressing Room and Said:
    “You Die in 5 More Minutes for Kidding Your Country”     158

  I Could Just Sorter Nonchalantly Step on the Bride’s
    Train                                                    170

  If Mr. Ford Had Been Elected We Would
    Have Been the Mouthpiece of the Administration           192

  He Started at Four or Five Years of Age and Has Worked on
    New Stunts Every Day of His Life                         202

  If a Rider Hit on His Head, It Was Me                      211

  It’s a Bigger Thing for Washington Than the Shriners’
    Convention                                               216

  They Not Only Have to Be Lawyers, But Political Lawyers    219

  They Are from Tulsa. I Will Be Right Out                   226

  I Object to the Senator from Massachusetts’ Slurring
    Remarks                                                  236

  “There’s a Bellboy at My Hotel and He Just Got It From the
    Chauffeur of a Prominent Oil-Man”                        248

  They Rehearsed Their Old Act Here Yesterday                268

  “You Wasn’t Here and You Know Them as Well as I Do”        278

  Well, I Guess You Heard About My Presidential Boom         286

  The Deaths from Old Age Among the Delegates Is About
    Offset by the Birthrate                                  291

  “If They Haven’t Got Enough Water in There to Fill the
    Harbor, We Will Have to Ask the Neighbors to Drain Their
    Corn Liquor”                                             322

  “If You Don’t Get Well and Throw Away Your Crutches I Get
    Nothing Out of It”                                       344




INTRODUCTION


This book should have been long before now on the Bookshelves of every
reader of worth while Literature in the English speaking World, in
addition to being well worn in our best reference Libraries, and should
have been already translated into every known and unknown tongue. What
you will immediately ask delayed such an important event? Well the
principal reason is it had not been written, and the next is We had no
introduction for it. You let a Book go out without an Alibi by some
other writer, and it is practically a commercial suicide. When the
Publishers were all clamoring for a Book from me, and were practically
annihilating (Boy there is a word I never used before in my life and
I hope it fits in, I read it in some War Novel) each other for the
Publishing rights and assured profits, they of course felt that through
my wide Literary acquaintance, gained during years of association at
the Democratic National Convention, and the late World Series with
some of the best contemporary Writers of modern times, I should
through my Literary standing and personal friendship, allow some of
them to have the honor of penning the introduction to this Time Table
of National Catastrophes.

William Emporia Allen White was my first thought, on account of his
having a middle name, which always sounds Literary, even if its owner
is not. Then I had heard he himself had written a Book once, and by
now should know what Introductions should not be. Then he went home
and announced himself as a Candidate for Governor. So that eliminated
him from my thoughts. To have a big broad-minded book have any narrow
Political endorsement would mean certain calamity among people who
think. To run for Governor is bad enough, But to run for Governor of
Kansas and then write an Introduction of my worthy efforts, would
simply make the book a laughing stock.

Then my thoughts turned to Arthur Brisbane, I don’t know what I could
have been eating that my thoughts should have done such a mental
somersault. But I guess it was because I had known Arthur for years,--I
knew him before William Randolph Hearst started working for him. I
approached him on it, and he said, Sorry Will but what I write must
point a moral, there must be a lesson in every paragraph; mine must
not only be news but it must be instructive news. For instance, I read
China will not go to war on rainy days. What does that bit of news mean
to the individual that dont think? Nothing! What does it mean to me? It
means that a Chinaman would rather get shot than wet. It points a moral
to peace: Have all so-called civilized Nations stop wars on rainy days.
Then hold all wars in Portland, Oregon where it rains every day, and
you will eliminate Wars and have universal Peace.

So he could see no particular Moral in writing an Introduction to my
book, unless it was that Books should not depend entirely on their
introductions as they do now. So I next thought of my friend Irvin
Cobb. I had set next to him at so many Speakers Tables, at banquets,
and had always given him any little extras that I might not want. Ice
Cream and Sweets and things like that he just loves and ruins them at a
Banquet. Well he was going Duck shooting down in Louisiana and said he
wouldn’t miss one Duck for the pleasure of writing the Introduction to
the Encyclopedia Brittanica. So you just let the old fat thing try to
get my Ice Cream at another Banquet.

Of course Ring Lardner was one of my very first thoughts, because I
knew he could add the little touch of comedy that the book really
needed. I went to him and told him that I only wanted something light
and airy, maybe just one good joke would do the trick and take away
from the serious nature of the Book. He is not only a Humorist but has
got plenty money to show that he is. He said before he shook hands with
me, What is there in it? I said well this is just a kind of an honorary
thing, a kind of courtesy from one Author to another. He then asked
me why should he give me a joke for nothing? He could put the joke
into his Sunday Newspaper Article; then he could put the joke into his
weekly Newspaper Cartoon; then he could sell it to a Musical Comedy and
they would tell it so bad it would sound new. Then the Movies would buy
it and make a drama out of it; then he would still hold the Phonograph,
and broadcasting rights, and after it got well enough known write a
Song around it. So he said I would be a fine egg to give you a joke for
nothing.

I wish that Spaniard Ibanez, that wrote the 4 Horsemen was over here,
I know him well, I had read 5 or 6 of his Books and I was to a big
reception given to him in Los Angeles, and during our conversations
through an Interpreter he learned I had read so many of his Books. No
one else he met there even among the Literary ones had ever read any
but the 4 Horsemen, So when he went home he sent me an Autographed
Copy which read “To an American Cowboy, the only person in America I
found who had read all my Books.” The funny thing about it is that he
is the only Author I ever read. Now if he was here he would write me
an Introduction, But of course it would be in Spanish and nobody could
read it, so I would be just as bad off as I am now.

I also know Elinor Glyn, I met her when she was out in California
looking around for some one to cast as Paul in “Three Weeks.” She sent
for me but I had just started on another new Picture. She could have
cooked me up a hot Introduction. She would have draped the first few
paragraphs with Tiger skins, and described me in such a way that I
would have really looked like something. So I just says to myself, why
monkey with these writers, why not write my own Introduction? So here
goes.

I have known Mr. Rogers for years and have long been familiar with
his Literary masterpieces, both in Novels, and in Books of technical
knowledge. I think there are few writers of Poetry or prose today who
equal him, and I am certain he is surpassed by none.

I say this because I have lived and known the life he has pictured so
well in this Book; I spent my late youth in these shaded oak lands
where so many of his scenes are so pictorially laid, and he has made
me live over again the scenes of my freshman manhood. No writer since
the days of Remington can give you such a word picture of the west.
That’s because he is a westerner himself, and has only an eye for the
beautiful things as he and nature alone can describe them. He alone
of all our modern writers knows the people of which they write. When
he describes a Corset you can feel it pinch. If it’s a Sunrise he
describes, you reach for an Umbrella. His jugglery of correct words
and perfect English sentences is magical, and his spelling is almost
uncanny.

The words, _Illiterate Digest_, which appear upon the title page of
this book, has been generally compared to Don Quixote and to the
Pickwick Papers, while E. M. Vogue places its author somewhere between
Cervantes and LeSage. However, considerable the influence of Cervantes
and Dickens may have been, the first in the matter of structure,
the other in background, humor, and detail of characterization, the
predominating and distinguishing quality of this Author’s work is
undeniably foreign to both and quite peculiar to itself. Something
that for want of a better term might be called the quality of American
Soul, any reader familiar as I know you all to be with the works of
Dostoieffsky, Turgenev, or even Tolstoi, will grasp the deeper meaning
of a work like this. Some consider the Author a realist, who has drawn
with meticulous detail a picture of contemporary life, others more
observing see in him a great symbolist.

He always remembers that it is dangerous to jest with laughter. This
man in writing this has done a service to all thinking mankind. It is a
revelation, as an omen of a freer future. Belinsky, the great Russian
Critic to whom Mr. Rogers had read the manuscript, said “it looked like
another Ben Hur to him.”

So now Mr. Cobb, and Mr. Lardner, and all you introduction writers,
what do I want with you? There is not a one of you could have said the
things of me that I have said, because you Guys dont know what books to
look in to get all that big league stuff out of,

                                           Yours for Arts sake,

                                              WILLIAM PENN ADAIR ROGERS

  (_boy that is my real name, let some Literary Guy
                   top that_)

P. S. I got enough Introduction left over to write another Introduction
if I had anything to write another book about.




BREAKING INTO THE WRITING GAME

[Illustration: YOU ARE GOING TO GET THE LOW-DOWN ON SOME OF THOSE BIRDS
WHO ARE SENDING HOME THE RADISH-SEED.]




BREAKING INTO THE WRITING GAME


Everybody is writing something nowadays. It used to be just the
Literary or Newspaper men who were supposed to know what they were
writing about that did all the writing. But nowadays all a man goes
into office for is so he can try to find out something and then write
it when he comes out.

Now being in Ziegfeld Follies for almost a solid year in New York has
given me an inside track on some of our biggest men in this country who
I meet nightly at the stage door.

So I am breaking out in a rash here. I will cite an example to prove
to you what you are going to get. Not long ago there was a mess of
Governors here from various Provinces. And a good friend of mine
brought back to the stage and dressing room Governor Allen of Kansas.
Well, I stood him in the wings and he was supposed to be looking at my
act, but he wasn’t. He was watching what really is the Backbone of our
Show. He anyway heard some of my Gags about our Government and all who
are elected to help missrun it.

So at the finish of my act I dragged him out on the stage and
introduced him to the audience. He made a mighty pretty little speech
and said he enjoyed Will’s Impertinences, and got a big laugh on that.
Said I was the only man in America who was able to tell the truth about
our Men and Affairs.

When he finished I explained to the audience why I was able to tell the
truth. It is because I have never mixed up in Politics. So you all are
going from time to time to get the real Low Down on some of those Birds
who are sending home the Radish Seed.

You know the more you read and observe about this Politics thing, you
got to admit that each party is worse than the other. The one that’s
out always looks the best. My only solution would be to keep ’em both
out one term and hire my good friend Henry Ford to run the whole thing
and give him a commission on what he saves us. Put his factory in with
the government and instead of Seeds every spring mail out those Things
of his.

Mail Newberry one every morning Special Delivery.

Speaking of Henry Ford, I see where Uncle Henry has a new Rule in force
out in his Factory where they paste those Knick Knacks together. Every
man working there has to have his breath smelled every morning. That,
of course, seems like a pretty strict Rule to put in force in a So
called Free Country, and it has come in for a lot of criticism in the
papers, but the way I look at it, it is absolutely necessary. Should
a man go to work in there who had had a few strong shots of some of
our National Drinks of today, he would blow his breath on one of those
FOB’S, and blow all the bolts right out of it.

Now Mr. Ford is a very smart man and in passing these rigid rules I
bet you he knows where to stop. I bet you that he won’t instruct his
Salesmen to be so strict with a Purchaser. In fact his salesmen smell
of your breath when you come in to buy one and if it shows no signs of
drink they don’t try to sell you. He is smart enough to know a sober
man would never buy one. Mind you, all this smelling of breath is
done, not on the Company’s time, but on the time of the Workers. Some
men have to get up at 4 o’clock in the Morning to get their breath
examined so they can get to work at 8. Imagine a line of 50 thousand
all waiting to blow at a single individual TESTER! Think what he must
be with all those Italian workmen passing by him. He is just 180 pounds
of Garlic by night.

The University of Michigan is putting in a Chair in their Faculty
devoted to the Art of Breath Detecting. But there is always a way to
defeat any reform. Drinkers will learn to hold their breath like a
Diver.

I tell you Folks, all Politics is Apple Sauce.

The President gave a Luncheon for the visiting Governors, where they
discussed but didn’t TRY Prohibition.

It was the consensus of opinion of all their speeches that there was
a lot of drinking going on and that if it wasn’t stopped by January
that they would hold another meeting and try and get rid of some of the
stuff.

Senator Curtis proposed a bill this week to stop Bootlegging in the
Senate, making it unlawful for any member to be caught selling to
another member while on Government property. While the bill was being
read a Government employe fell just outside the Senate door and broke
a Bottle of Pre-War Stuff (made just before last week’s Turkish War).
Now they are carpeting all the halls with a heavy material so in case
of a fall there will be no serious loss.

[Illustration: THEY ARE CARPETING ALL THE HALLS OF THE SENATE SO IN
CASE OF A FALL THERE WILL BE NO SERIOUS LOSS.]

Well, New Years is coming and I suppose we will have to hear and read
all those big men’s New Year greetings, such men as Schwab and Gary and
Rockefeller and all of them. Saying the same old Apple Sauce. That they
are Optimistic of the coming year and everybody must put their shoulder
to the wheel, and produce more and they predict a great year. Say, if
we had those Birds’ Dough we could all be just as optimistic as they
are. But it’s a good Joke and it’s got in the papers every year and I
suppose always will.

Now the Ku Klux is coming into New York and kinder got it in for the
Jewish People. Now they are wrong; I am against that. If the Jewish
People here in New York City hadn’t jumped in and made themselves good
fellows and helped us celebrate our Christmas, the thing would have
fell flat. They sold us every Present.

The Ku Klux couldn’t get much of a footing here in New York. If there
was some man they wanted to take out and Tar and Feather they wouldn’t
know where he lived. People move so often here their own folks don’t
know where they live.

And even if they found out the Elevator man in the Apartment wouldn’t
let ’em up.

See where there is bills up in Congress now to change the Constitution
all around, elect the President in a different way and have Congress
meet at a different time. It seems the men who drew up this thing
years ago didn’t know much and we are just now getting a bunch of real
fellows who can take that old Parchment and fix it up like it should
have been all these years. It seems it’s just been luck that’s got us
by so far. Now when they get the Constitution all fixed up they are
going to start in on the 10 Commandments, just as soon as they find
somebody in Washington who has read them.

See where they are talking about another Conference over here. The
Social Season in Washington must be lagging.

Well, I think they ought to have it. These Conferences don’t really do
any harm and they give certain Delegates pleasure. Of course nothing
they ever pass on is ever carried out. (Except in Greece, where
they are all carried out.) But each Nation gets a certain amount of
Publicity out of it, and us masses that read of it get a certain amount
of amusement out of it.

Borah himself admits he don’t know what it’s for or what they should
do. But it looks like a good Conference season and there is no reason
why we shouldn’t get in on one.

BESIDES, DID YOU EVER REALIZE THIS COUNTRY IS 4 CONFERENCES BEHIND NOW?

I want to apologize and set my many readers straight as to why I am
blossoming out as an infliction on you all.

It seems a prominent newspaper syndicate had Lloyd George signed up for
a pack of his Memoirs. Well, after the late election Lloyd couldn’t
seem to remember anything, so they sent for me to fill in the space
where he would have had his junk.

You see, they wanted me in the first place, but George came along
and offered to work cheaper, and also to give his to charity. That
benevolence on his part was of course before England gave him his two
weeks’ notice.

Now I am also not to be outdone by an ex-Prime Minister donating my
receipts from my Prolific Tongue to a needy charity. The total share of
this goes to the civilization of three young heathens, Rogers by name,
and part Cherokee Indians by breeding.

Now, by wasting seven minutes, if you are a good reader--and ten to
twelve if you read slow--on me, you are really doing a charitable act
yourself by preventing these three miniature bandits from growing up
in ignorance. So please help a man with not only one little Megan, but
three little Megans.

A great many people may think that this is the first venture of such a
conservative paper as the _Illiterate Digest_ in using something of a
semi-humorous nature, but that is by no means the case. I am following
the Kaiser, who rewrote his life after it was too late. I realize what
a tough job I have, succeeding a man who to be funny only had to relate
the facts.

Please don’t consider these as my memoirs. I am not passing out of the
picture, as men generally are who write those things.




SETTLING THE CORSET PROBLEM OF THIS COUNTRY

(_An After Dinner speech made at a Banquet of the Corset Manufacturers
of America at the Waldorf-Astoria, New York._)




SETTLING THE CORSET PROBLEM OF THIS COUNTRY


Since I last wrote you all there has been an awful lot of fashion Shows
and all their By Products held here in New York. All the out of Town
buyers from all over have been here. So, on behalf of New York City,
I had to help welcome them at their various Banquets. There was the
retail Milliners’ big fashion show at the Astor Ball Room where they
showed 500 Hats and me. Some of the hats were just as funny looking as
I was.

Well, I settled the Hat and Dress business to the satisfaction of
everybody but the Milliners. So the next night at the Commodore Hotel I
mingled with those Princes of Brigands, the Leather and Shoe men, and
later I want to tell all you people just how they operate. For we never
paid more for our Shoes and were nearer barefooted than we are today,
so don’t think that I am bought off this week by those Pasteboard
Highbinders: it’s only that I want to talk to the Ladies today.

During this reign of Indigestion I was called on to speak at a big
Banquet at the Waldorf to the Corset Manufacturers. Now that only shows
you what a degrading thing this after Dinner speaking is. I want to get
out of it in a few weeks and back to the Movies.

This speaking calls on a fellow to learn something about articles that
a self-respecting man has no business knowing about. So that’s why I am
going to get away. If a Man is called on to tell in a Public Banquet
room what he knows about Corsets, there is no telling what other
Ladies’ wearing apparel he might be called on to discuss. So me back to
the Morals of Hollywood before it’s too late.

I was, at that, mighty glad to appear at a dinner given by an essential
Industry. Just imagine, if you can, if the flesh of this Country
were allowed to wander around promiscuously! Why, there ain’t no
telling where it would wind up. There has got to be a gathering or a
get-together place for everything in this world, so, when our human
Bodies get beyond our control, why we have to call on some mechanical
force to help assemble them and bring back what might be called the
semblance of a human frame.

These Corset Builders, while they might not do a whole lot to help
civilization, are a tremendous aid to the Eyesight. They have got
what you would call a Herculean task as they really have to improve on
nature. The same problem confronts them that does the people that run
the Subways in New York City. They both have to get so many pounds of
human flesh into a given radius. The subway does it by having strong
men to push and shove until they can just close the door with only the
last man’s foot out. But the Corset Carpenters arrive at the same thing
by a series of strings.

They have what is known as the Back Lace. This is known as a One Man
Corset.

Now the Front Lace can be operated without a confederate. By
judiciously holding your breath and with a conservative intake on the
Diaphragm you arrange yourself inside this. Then you tie the strings to
the door knob and slowly back away. When your speedometer says you have
arrived at exactly 36, why, haul in your lines and tie off.

We have also the Side Lace that is made in case you are very fleshy,
and need two accomplices to help you congregate yourself. You stand in
the middle and they pull from both sides. This acts something in the
nature of a vise. This style has been known to operate so successful
that the victims’ buttons have popped off their shoes.

Of course, the fear of every fleshy Lady is the broken Corset String.
I sat next to a catastrophe of this nature once. We didn’t know it
at first, the deluge seemed so gradual, till finally the Gentleman
on the opposite side of her and myself were gradually pushed off our
Chairs. To show you what a wonderful thing this Corseting is, that Lady
had come to the Dinner before the broken string episode in a small
Roadster. She was delivered home in a Bus.

They have also worked out a second line of control, or a place to park
an extra string on the back. You can change a string now while you
wait, and they have demountable strings.

Now, of course, not as many women wear Corsets as used to but what
they have lost in women they have made up with men. When corsets were
a dollar a pair they used to be as alike as two Fords. A clerk just
looked you over, decided on your circumference and wheel base and
handed you out one. They come in long Boxes and you were in doubt at
first if it was a Corset or a Casket.

Nowadays with the Wraparound and the Diaphragm-Control, and all those
things a Corset Manufacturer uses more rubber than a Tire Co.

Imagine me being asked to talk at a Corset Dinner, anyway; Me, who has
been six years with Ziegfeld Follies and not a Corset in the Show.

Men have gone down in History for shaping the destinies of Nations, but
I tell you this set of Corset Architects shape the Destinies of Women
and that is a lot more important than some of the shaping that has been
done on a lot of Nations that I can name off hand. Another thing makes
me so strong for them, if it wasn’t for the Corset Ads in Magazines men
would never look at a Magazine.




HOW TO TELL A BUTLER, AND OTHER ETIQUETTE

[Illustration: AS I OPENED THE DOOR TO LET HER IN 2 OF OUR DOGS AND 4
CATS CAME IN]




HOW TO TELL A BUTLER, AND OTHER ETIQUETTE


Somebody must have seen me out in Public; I think it was Emily Post,
for she sent me a book on ETIQUETTE that she had written herself.

It has 700 pages in it. You wouldn’t think there was that much
Etiquette, would you! Well, I hadn’t read far when I found that I was
wrong on most every line of the whole Book.

Now, you wouldn’t think a Person could live under fairly civilized
conditions (as I imagined I was doing) and be so dumb as to not have at
least one of these forms of Etiquette right. Well, when I got through
reading it, I felt like I had been a heathen all my life. But after I
got to noticing other people I met I didn’t feel so bad. Some of them
didn’t know much more about it than I did.

So I predict that her Book and all the other things you read now on
Etiquette are going to fall on fertile soil. Now take, for instance,
being introduced, or introducing someone; that is the first thing in
the Book. I didn’t know up to then that inflection of the voice was
such a big factor in introductions.

She says that the prominence of the party being introduced determines
the sound of the voice, as she says for instance, “Are you there?” and
then on finding out you are there she says, “Is it raining?”

Now the inflection that you use on asking any one if they are there,
is the same inflection that you are to use on introducing Mr. Gothis,
if he is the more prominent of the two. Then for the other person, who
Mr. Gothis probably got his from, why, you use the “Is it raining?”
inflection.

You see, a fellow has to know a whole lot more than you think he does
before he can properly introduce people to each other. First he has to
be up on his Dunn and Bradstreet to tell which of the two is the more
prominent. Second, he has to be an Elocutionist so he will know just
where to bestow the inflection.

Well, I studied on that introduction Chapter till I thought I had it
down pat. So I finally got a chance to try it out. My wife had invited
a few friends for Dinner, and as she hadn’t finished cooking it before
they come, I had to meet them and introduce them to each other.

Well, I studied for half an hour before they come, trying to figure
out which one was the most prominent so I could give her the “Are you
there?” inflection. It was hard to figure out because any one of them
couldn’t be very prominent and be coming to our House for Dinner.
So I thought, well, I will just give them both the “Is it raining?”
inflection.

Then I happened to remember that the Husband of one of them had just
bought a Drug Store, so I figured that I better give her the benefit
of the “Are you there?” inflection, for if Prohibition stays in effect
it’s only a matter of days till her Husband will be prominent.

So, when they arrived I was remembering my opening Chapter of my
Etiquette on Introductions. When the first one come I was all right; I
didn’t have to introduce her to anyone. I just opened our front door
in answer to the Bell which didn’t work. But I was peeping through the
Curtains, and as I opened the door to let her in 2 of our Dogs and 4
Cats come in.

Well, while I was shooing them out, apologizing, and trying to make her
believe it was unusual for them to do such a thing, now there I was!
This Emily Post wrote 700 pages on Etiquette, but not a line on what to
do in an emergency to remove Dogs and Cats and still be Nonchalant.

The second Lady arrived just as this Dog and Cat Pound of ours was
emptying. She was the new Prescription Store Owner’s Wife and was to
get the “Are you there?” inflection. Her name was (I will call her
Smith, but that was not her name). She don’t want it to get out that
she knows us.

Well, I had studied that Book thoroughly but those animals entering our
Parlor had kinder upset me. So I said, “Mrs. Smith, Are you there? I
want you to meet Mrs. Jones. Is it raining?”

Well, these Women looked at me like I was crazy. It was a silly thing
to say. Mrs. Smith was there of course, or I couldn’t have introduced
her, and asking Mrs. Jones if it was raining was most uncalled for,
because I had just looked out myself and, besides, any one that ever
lived in California knows it won’t rain again till next year.

But that didn’t discourage me. I kept right on learning and from now
on I am just mangy with Etiquette.

Why, just the other day, I heard what I had always considered up to
then a well behaved Woman, introduce one Gentleman friend to another
and she said, “Allow me to present.”

Now anybody that’s ever read the first 5 lines in the book knows that
the word Present is never used only on formal occasions. You should
always say “May I introduce” on all informal occasions. There was a
Woman who, to look at her, you would never have thought she could
possibly be so rude and uncultured as to have made a mistake like that.

It just spoiled her for me. I don’t care how many nice things she may
do in the future, she just don’t belong.

Rule 2, Chapter 5--: “No Gentleman under any circumstances chews Gum in
Public.” Now that kinder knocked me for a Goal, for I had been Chewing
Gum before some of the best families in this Country. But from now on
it is out. I am going to live according to the Book.

Chapter 6--: “Gentleman should not walk along the Street with their
Cane or Stick striking the picket fence. Such habits should be curbed
in the nursery.”

Now that rule didn’t hit me so hard for I am not lame and I don’t carry
a Cane yet, and furthermore, there is no Picket fences in California.
If they had enough pickets to make a fence they would take them and
build another Bungalow and rent it.

Outside of eating with a sharp knife, there is no rule in the Book
that lays you liable to as much criticism as the following: “Whether
in a private Car, a Taxi, or a carriage, a lady must never sit on a
Gentleman’s left, because according to European Etiquette a Lady ‘on
the left’ is no lady.”

I thought at first when I read that it was a misprint, and meant a Lady
should never sit on a Gentleman’s Lap, instead of Left. But now I find
that it really was Left. So I guess you can go ahead and sit on the
lap. It don’t say not to. But don’t sit on his Left, or you can never
hope to enter smart society.

Then it says “the Owner of the car should always occupy the right hand
side of the rear seat.” No matter how many payments he has to make on
it, that is considered his seat.

Chapter 7 is given over entirely to The Opera. What to wear, when to
applaud--it tells everything but how to enjoy the thing. The fellow
that figures out how to enjoy the Opera in a foreign tongue, without
kidding himself or fourflushing, has a fortune in store for him.

[Illustration: BIRDS THAT NEVER CAN TELL THE SERVANTS FROM THE GUESTS.]

Chapter 12 tells how the Butler should dress. You don’t know what a
relief it was to me to find that news. I never had one, but if I do I
will know what to costume him in.

The Book says: “At six o’clock the Butler puts on his dress Suit. The
Butler’s suit differs from that of a Gentleman by having no braid on
his trousers.”

Now all you Birds that never could tell the Servants from the Guests,
except somebody called one of them a Butler and the other a Gentleman,
you can’t tell them that way. More than likely the Butler is the
Gentleman of the two.

But I can tell the Butler. He has no braid on his trousers.

Now, all I got to do is find out how to tell the Gentleman.

If you see people walking around looking down at your trousers, in the
future, you will know they are looking to see if the braid is left off.





DEFENDING MY SOUP PLATE POSITION

[Illustration: I WOULD INVENT A TRIANGLE SHAPE SLIDE THAT COULD BE
PUSHED UNDER THE PLATE]




DEFENDING MY SOUP PLATE POSITION


A couple of weeks ago in my weekly Hamburger, I had the following, “If
Mrs. J. W. Davis ever gets into the White House we will have a mistress
to preside whom no titled European visitor can embarrass by doing the
right thing first. She will never tip her Soup plate even if she can’t
get it all.”

Now comes along an old friend of mine, Percy Hammond, a Theatrical
Critic on a New York Paper (Pardon me, Percy, for having to tell them
whom you are, but my readers are mostly provincial). He takes up a
couple of columns, part of which follows:

“For years I have been tipping my Soup plate, but never until Mr.
Rogers instructed me, did I know that I was performing a Social error.
Consultation with the polished and urbane head waiters of the Middle
West, where I spent my boyhood, taught me, I believed, to eat Soup.
One wonders if Mr. Rogers has given as much thought to soup as he
has to the Lariat. Perhaps he does not know, being recently from
Oklahoma, that in many prominent eastern Dining rooms one may tip one’s
Soup plate, without losing his social standing. I regard Mr. Rogers’
interference as prairie, impudent and unofficial. The Stewards of
the Dutch Treat Club assure me that it is proper to tip one’s plate,
provided (and here is the subtlety that escapes Mr. Rogers), provided
that one tips one’s Soup plate from and not toward.

“Mr. Rogers might well observe the modesty in such matters that adorns
Mr. Tom Mix his fellow ex-cowman. Mr. Mix, telling of a dinner given
in his honor at the Hotel Astor, said, ‘I et for two hours and didn’t
recognize a thing I et except an olive.’”

Them are Percy’s very words. Now Percy (you notice I call you Percy,
because if I kept saying, “Mr. Hammond, Mr. Hammond,” all through my
Article it might possibly appear too formal), Percy, I thought you were
a Theatrical Critic. Now I find you are only a Soup Critic. Instead of
going, as is customary, from soup to nuts, you have gone from Nuts to
soup. Now, Percy, I have just read your Article on “my ignorance of
Etiquette” (I don’t know if that Etiquette thing is spelled right, or
not; if it is not it will give you a chance for another Article on
my bad spelling). Now you do not have to write Articles on my lack of
Etiquette, my ignorance, my bad English, or a thousand and one other
defects. All the people that I ever met or any one who ever read one of
my articles know that. That would be just like saying W. J. Bryan was
in Politics just for Chatauqua Purposes. It’s too well known to even
comment on. Besides, I admit it.

Percy, I am just an old country boy in a big town trying to get along.
I have been eating Pretty regular, and the reason I have been is
because I have stayed an old country boy. Now I wrote that Article,
and technically I admit I may have been wrong, but the Newspapers paid
me a lot of money for it, and I never had a complaint. And by the way,
I will get the same this week for writing about you that I did about
Soup. Now both Articles may be wrong, But if you can show me how I can
get any more money by writing them right, why I will split with you.

Now you took my soup article apart to see what made it float. I will
see if we can’t find some SMALL technicalities in your Literary
Masterpiece. You say I came recently from Oklahoma, while You come
from the Middle West and “by consultation with the Head Waiters have
learned the proper way to eat soup.” I thought Oklahoma was in the
Middle West. Your knowledge of Geography is worse than my Etiquette.
You say you learned to eat Soup from a Head Waiter in the Middle West.
Well, I admit my ignorance again; I never saw a head waiter eat Soup.
Down in Oklahoma (probably near Siberia) where I come from, we wouldn’t
let a head waiter eat at our Table, even if we had a head waiter,
which we haven’t. If I remember right I think it was my Mother taught
me what little she knew of how I should eat, because if we had had to
wait until we sent and got a head waiter to show us, we would have all
starved to death. If a head waiter taught you to eat soup, Percy, I
suppose you were sent to Bordens to learn how to drink Milk.

Then you state, “The Stewards of the Dutch Treat Club assure me that it
is proper to tip one’s plate.” Now if you had learned properly from the
great social Head Waiters of the urbane Middle West, why did you have
to consult the Stewards of the Dutch Treat Club? Could it be that after
arriving in N. Y. you couldn’t rely on the information of the polished
Head waiters of your phantom Middle West? Now I was in the Dutch Treat
Club once, but just as a Guest of Honor at a Luncheon, and of course
had no chance to get into any intimate conversations with the Stewards.
At that time, the place did not impress me as being where one might
learn the last word in Etiquette.

And as for your saying that “anything of subtlety would escape me,”
that I also admit. I attribute it to my Dumbness. But as for me being
too Dumb to get the idea of “the Soup plate being tipped away and not
toward one,” that’s not Etiquette; that’s just Self Protection. As bad
as you plate tippers want all you can get, you don’t want it in your
lap. Custom makes manners, and while I know that it is permissible to
tip plates, I still say that it is not a universal custom. Manners are
nothing more than common sense, and a person has no more right to try
and get every drop of soup out of his plate than he has to take a piece
of bread and try and harvest all the Gravy in his plate. If you are
that hungry, they ought to feed you out of a Nose Bag. So, “prairie
impudence” or no “prairie impudence,” I claim there are lots of them
that don’t do it, even if it is permissible (Head Waiters and Dutch
Stewards to the contrary). It’s permissible to get drunk but we still
have a few that don’t.

Now, Percy, suppose they all did as is permitted. Picture a big dinner
with everybody with their soup plates all balanced up on edge, with
one hand holding them up and the other hand with the spoon rounding up
what little soup was left. They would resemble a lot of plate jugglers
instead of Dinner Guests. Why if that was the universal custom, I
would invent a triangle shape slide that could be pushed under the
plate, so it would permit you to have one hand free, in case you were
sitting next to your own wife, or if by chance you might want to use
your napkin. According to your hungry plan, every Guest practically
handcuffs himself during the latter end of the soup course. He is
absolutely helpless. So don’t ask head waiters and stewards what to do,
Percy, look around yourself. You will find hundreds of them that are
satisfied with just what Soup they can get on the level. Why I bet you
are a fellow Percy, if you took Castor Oil, you would want to lick the
spoon.

You know, Percy, I might know more about Etiquette than you think I
do. I wrote a review on Emily Post’s Book on Etiquette, and it was
recopied in the Literary Digest (and by the way it did not mention
the Digest’s name, and it is unusual for them to re-copy anything
unless they are mentioned in the article). Now have you or any of your
Mid-Western head waiters, or retinue of Stewards, ever been asked to
write a criticism on such an authoritative work as that? So you see I
am somewhat of a Critic myself. I am the Hammond of the etiquette Book
business.

Another thing, Percy, I spoke of a particular case; I mentioned Mrs.
Davis. Well, I happened to see the Lady in question eat soup, and
she did not try and corral the whole output. She perhaps knew it was
permissible, still, she did not seem eager to take advantage of it.

Now, you speak of my friend, Tom Mix, where he says, “he et two hours
and did not recognize anything he et but an olive.” Now, that is bad
Grammar, even I will admit, but it’s mighty good eating. Don’t you
kinder envy him, that he has lived his life physically so that now he
can eat for two hours. I bet you that you would trade your knowledge
of the English language now for his constitution. Tipping that soup
plate at all your meals for years is what put that front on you, Perc.
Leave some, that’s why I am trying to prove to you it’s permissible
to tip the plate, but it’s bad physically. The fact that Tom has done
something to be given a dinner for, should make him immune from attacks
from the Press Table.

Vice Dawes, the profanity end of Coolidge’s Campaign, just went
through New York last week cussing everything, and everybody, a Hell’n
Maria’ing all over the place. But he has other qualities to offset his
cussing, so personally I don’t think this word, “et” on Mix’s part will
seriously affect the drawing power of his pictures. You see, Percy,
Tom said, “et,” but you know better than him what to say. Still, if a
Western Picture was to be made to amuse the entire World, I would trust
Tom’s judgment to yours. You know, Percy, everybody is ignorant, only
on different subjects.

So, Perc, you string with the High Brows, but I am going to stick to
the Low Brows, because I know I am at home with them. For remember,
if it was not for us Low Brows, you high brows would have no one to
discuss. But God love you, Percy, and if you ever want to leave them
and come back to us where you started, we will all be glad to welcome
you, even if you do feel like you are slumming. You must remember,
Perc, that the question of the World today is, not how to _eat_ soup,
but how to _get_ soup to eat.




HELPING THE GIRLS WITH THEIR INCOME TAXES




HELPING THE GIRLS WITH THEIR INCOME TAXES


Well, I haven’t had much time lately to dope out many new jokes. I have
been helping the Girls in the Follies make out their Income Tax. A
vital question come up, do Presents come under the heading of Salary?
You know that’s a mighty big item with us. When I say Us, I don’t mean
Me, as no one has given me anything yet, but I stick around in case a
few crumbs drop.

I have been looking for a bribe from some of our prominent men to keep
their name out of my act, but the only ones who even speak to me are
the ones I mention. So I guess about the only way you can get a Man
sore nowadays is to ignore him.

One Girl wanted to charge off Taxi Cab fares to and from the Theatre. I
told her she couldn’t do that. She said, “Well, how am I to get there?”
I said, “Well, as far as the Government is concerned, you can come on
the Subway.” She said, “Oh! What is the Subway?”

Another Girl who has been with the various Follies for ten years
wanted to know what She could charge off for Depreciation. And she was
absolutely right because if, after being with them for that long, and
you haven’t married at least one Millionaire, you certainly have a
legitimate claim for Depreciation.

I reminded one of the Girls that she had neglected to include two of
her Alimony allowances. She said, “Do I have to put them all in?”
I said, “Why, certainly you do.” The Girl said, “Well, how did the
Government keep track of them? I couldn’t.”

One Girl charged off a non-providing Husband under the heading of
Bad Debts. We charged off all Cigarettes smoked in Public under the
heading, Advertising.

One Sweetheart who paid for a Girl’s Dinner every night, went
thoroughly broke in Wall Street by trying to corner Canned Tomatoes in
the late Piggledy-Wiggledy uprising. We figured up what the dinners
would be for the rest of the year and charged him off as a Total Loss.

And right here I want to say what an honest bunch these Girls are. They
don’t want to beat the Government out of a thing. One Girl who had
been away for a few weeks last winter to Palm Beach left a Husband in
the good hands of her Girl Chum. When she returned the Girl Chum gave
her a Two Thousand Dollar Bracelet. Now she wanted to include this
Item in her Tax and we couldn’t figure out where to put it. Finally we
decided it was Rents, so we put it in, “For Rent, of One Husband, two
Thousand Dollars.”

Of course while the girls had these tremendous salaries I was able to
help on account of my technical knowledge of them (as I dress with
their Chauffeurs), and on account of my equal knowledge of making out
an Income Tax, with any man in the World. As none of us know a thing
about it.

Look what I saved them on Bathing Suits! I had them all claim they
bought various Suits. And I defy even a Congressional Investigating
Committee (and you certainly can’t pick any more useless Body of men
than they are), I defy them to say that a Bathing Suit on a Beautiful
Girl don’t come under the heading of Legitimate Advertising.

Now, as I say, these Girls all wanted to do what was right as they
could afford to but this Income Tax has not acted that way with the
Men. The Income Tax has made more Liars out of the American people
than Golf has.

Even when you make one out on the level, you don’t know when it’s
through if you are a Crook or a Martyr.

Of course, people are getting smarter nowadays; they are letting
Lawyers, instead of their conscience, be their Guide.

There is some talk of lowering it, and they will have to. People are
not making enough to pay it.

And, by the way, the only way they will ever stop Bootlegging, too,
is to make them pay an Income Tax. (At present it is a Tax exempt
Industry.) Income Tax has stopped every other Industry, so there is no
reason why it won’t stop Bootlegging.

Of course, some of our more thrifty Girls have followed the example of
their Male Tax Dodging friends and Incorporated (as the rate is lower
on Corporations). Wall Street attended to that little matter when they
were drawing the Tax Bill up in Washington.

These Girls had to do that, the same as men, to protect their Salaries.
Of course, the big Gamble in buying into these Individual Corporations
is the Lucky chance that she might make one or more wealthy marriages
during the year. When of course, her being Incorporated, all she gets
comes under the heading of Income, and you, as a Stockholder, get your
Pro Rata Share. If she lands a big one you have struck Oil. Then, on
the other hand, she may marry for love. In that case you have brought
in a Duster.

For example, down on the Exchange you will find the Anastasia Reed,
incorporated, along with General Motors and Blue Jay Corn Plasters. At
the end of the year, the Stockholders, after adding up the Salary along
with the accumulated Alimony, can either declare a dividend, or vote a
Dinner and put the Undivided profits back into the growing Concern.

Now, I can’t tell you the name but I was lucky enough to land 5 shares
just before a Blonde Corporation married a Multi-Millionaire who was
over 70 years of age. Us Stockholders have figured out at our last
meeting that if he dies when we think he will (and we have no reason to
believe otherwise, unless the Poison acts as a Monkey Gland) why, just
those 5 shares will make me independent for life.

I don’t want to use this space as an ad, but I have been able for a
small monetary fee to tip off my friends just what stock to buy. You
see I am in a position to judge as I watch who is in the front row
every night and I can just tell when Mendelssohn’s Spring Song will
start percolating for some particular Corporation. Now, at the present
time, there is every night in the front row a Millionaire Oklahoma Oil
Magnate and a Bootlegger, both angling for the same Corporation. If
this Bootlegging person lands her, why her Stockholders are made for
life, but if the Oil Magnate comes through (for sometimes these female
Corporations are swayed by sentiment), why the stock won’t be worth
within a thousand Percent of what it will be if the Bootheel Party
lands.

Now, take me personally; this Income Tax thing don’t bother me at all.
You are allowed 200 dollars for each Child, and my Children and my
Income are just coming out even now.




THE GREATEST DOCUMENT IN AMERICAN LITERATURE

[Illustration: SONG WRITERS SHOULD BE SEGREGATED AND MADE TO SING THEIR
SONGS TO EACH OTHER.]




THE GREATEST DOCUMENT IN AMERICAN LITERATURE


The subject for this brainy Editorial is resolved that, “Is the Song
Yes We Have no Bananas the greatest or the worst Song that America ever
had?”

I have read quite a lot in the papers about the degeneration of
America by falling for a thing like it. Some lay it to the effects of
Prohibition, some say it is the after-effects of War, that it is liable
to follow every big war. I see where some have written editorials on
the Song claiming that things are always in an unsettled state the
year before a Presidential Election. I claim it’s due to none of these
causes at all; neither is it due to the French occupation of the Ruhr.
I claim that it is the greatest document that has been penned in the
entire History of American Literature.

And there is only one way to account for its popularity, and that is
how you account for anything’s popularity, and that is because it has
Merit. Real down to earth merit, more than anything written in the last
decade. The World was just hungry for something good and when this
Genius come along and got right down and wrote on a subject that every
Human being is familiar with, and that was Vegetables, Bologna, Eggs
and Bananas, why he simply hit us where we live. You know a War Song
will only appeal to people that are interested in war, a Love Song to
those who are in love, A Mammy Song to nobody at all, but when you get
down and write of Cabbages, Potatoes, and Tomatoes, you just about hit
on a Universal subject.

You see, we had been eating these things all our lives but no one had
ever thought of paying homage to them in Words and Harmony. It opens up
a new field for Song Writers. I look for an epidemic of Corned Beef,
Liver and Bacon, Soup and Hash Songs to flood the Market. So more power
to an originator. Did you ever stop to realize that that Song has
attracted more attention than anything that has taken place in this
Country since Valentino gave up the screen for a mud Face preparation?

Magnus Johnson of Wisconsin or Minnesota (they ought to put those
States together; nobody can ever remember which one anything ever
happens in, generally the same thing happens in both of them); well as
I say, Magnus was unfortunate enough to be elected to the United States
Senate at a time when Bananas was at its height. Ten thousand people
can sing the song that dont know that Magnus can milk a Cow with one
hand and broadcast a Political speech with the other. Millions can hum
the Song that cant tell you what Lloyd George is sore at England about.

Hiram Johnson arrived from Europe a Presidential possibility, and spoke
to 2 thousand people. The creator of Bananas to Music, penned one Gem
of constructive thought, and spoke not to two thousand but to one
hundred and ten million.

Then some Editorial Newspaper writer has the nerve to sneer at this
marvelous Song, when perhaps his writings never cross the County line.
Why, Italy has already made arrangements on account of his honoring
their National Diet to place his name alongside of Michael Angelo,
Garibaldi, and Louis Firpo. It is already bringing on International
complications. England is sore because he didn’t say something about
Tea and Cake.

If we had had a Man like that to write our National Anthem somebody
could learn it. It wouldn’t take three wars to learn the words.

Mother has been done to death in Songs and not enough consideration
shown her in real life. We thought when we sang about her we had paid
her all the respect there was. I tell you, conditions were Just Ripe
for a good fruit Song.

Geo. M. Cohan wore out more Flags than a war waving them to music. He
transferred the Flag from Cloth to Paper, he made it a two verse and
Chorus affair. Now George was original. He saw an idea; he knew that a
big percentage of the American people had seen the flag, so that would
give him a subject to write on that people knew about. But look what a
Universal subject this Bird hit on. There are thousands of Foreigners
landing here daily that know Spin-ISH and HON-ions, that dont know an
American Flag from a Navajo Blanket.

Did you ever just dissect the Words to some of our so-called Popular
Songs? One has the words “Its not raining Rain, its raining Violets.”
Now can you imagine any more of a Cuckoo idea than that? You cant
hardly raise the things, much less Rain em. Now which do we owe the
most to, the Violet or the Banana? Even such a Genius as Geo. M. Cohan
himself has a Song, “You remind me of my Mother when Mother was A Girl
like you.” How can any man remember his Mother when she was a girl?
Its a Physical impossibility. You would have had to be born almost
simultaneously with your Mother.

Now on the other hand take the Banana Classic. “We just killed a Pony
so try our Bologna, It’s flavored with Oats and Hay.” Now that’s not
only good Poetry but his honesty should be rewarded. He is on the
level, he is telling you just what you get. Then those History-making
lines, “Our Hen Fruit have you tried em, real live Chickens inside em.”
Now I think in the rhyming line that is a positive Gem, and will live
when Gungha Din has lost his Hot Water Bottle. That shows originality.
He is not just simply going along rhyming Girl and Pearl, Beauty and
Cutey, Bees and Knees.

This Boy has got the stuff. Get this one and then read all through
Shakespeare and see if he ever scrambled up a mess of words like these,
“Try our Walnuts and Co- CO- Nuts, there aint many nuts like They.”
Now just off-hand you would think that it is purely a commercial Song
with no tinge of Sentiment, but dont you believe it. Read this: “And
you can take home for the WIM-mens, nice juicy per-Sim-mons.” Now that
shows thoughtfulness for the fair sex and also excellent judgment in
the choice of a Delicacy. Then there is rhythm and harmony that would
do credit to a Walt Whitman, so I defy you to show me a single song
with so much downright merit to it as this has.

You know, it dont take much to rank a man away up if he is just lucky
in coining the right words. Now take for instance Horace Greeley, I
think it was, or was it W. G. McAdoo, who said “go West, young man.”
Now that took no original thought at the time it was uttered. There
was no other place for a man to go, still it has lived. Now you mean
to tell me that a commonplace remark like that has the real backbone
of this one: “Our Grapefruit I’ll bet you, Is not going to wet you, we
drain them out every day.” Now which do you think it would take you the
longest to think of, that or “Go West, Young Man.”

Some other fellow made himself by saying “War is Hell.” Now what
was original about that? Anyone who had been in one could have told
you that, and today he has one of the biggest Statues in New York.
According to that, what should this Banana man get? He should be voted
the Poet Lariet of America.

Now mind you, I am not upholding this man because I hold any briefs
for the Songwriters. I think they are in a class with the After Dinner
speakers. They should be like Vice used to be in some towns. _They
should be segregated off to themselves_ and not allowed to associate
with people at all, _and should be made to sing these songs to each
other_. That is the only way you will ever do away with the Song
writing business.

Another thing that has made it bad is these People that used to send
Scenarios to Moving Picture Studios, after getting them back have
turned them into Songs. Its been a Godsend to the Picture business but
a blow to the Music business. And those Mammy Songs--those writers
should have all been banished to Siberia, and as they went through
on their way to Siberia dont let them stop in Russia to see their
Mammy. But when one does come along and display real talent as this
one has proven, I think he should be encouraged. Some man said years
ago that he “cared not who fought their Countries’ Wars as long as he
could write their Songs.” But of the two our Songs have been the most
devastating.

I understand this Boy was a Drummer in a Jazz Band before this World
renown hit him. Now I personally have always considered the Drummer
the best part of the Jazz Band. I think if all the members of a Jazz
band played the Drums it would make better music. I would rather have
been the Author of that Banana Masterpiece than the Author of the
Constitution of the United States. No one has offered any amendments to
it. Its the only thing ever written in America that we haven’t changed,
most of them for the worst.




PROSPECTUS FOR “THE REMODELED CHEWING GUM CORPORATION”

[Illustration: WHY CAN’T I DO SOMETHING WITH SECOND-HAND GUM?]




PROSPECTUS FOR “THE REMODELED CHEWING GUM CORPORATION”


Last week I made, on account of my Movie work, a trip to Catalina
Island and along with the Glass bottom Boat I had pointed out to me
the home of Mr. William Wrigley on the top of the highest mountain. He
also owns the Island. We were not allowed to go nearer than the gate as
the Guide said some other Tourist had carried away a Grand Piano, and
he had gotten discouraged at having them around. Another tourist was
caught right on the Lawn Chewing an opposition Brand of Gum. That is
really the thing that gummed up the Tourist Parade.

Then I remembered having seen his wonderful building in Chicago, all,
mind you, accumulated on Chewing Gum at a Cent a Chew. Now I felt
rather hurt at not being allowed to at least walk through maybe the
Kitchen, or the Cellar, because I know that I have contributed more to
the Building of that Home than any one living. I have not only made
Chewing Gum a pastime but I have made it an Art. I have brought it
right out in Public and Chewed before some of the oldest Political
Families of Massachusetts.

I have had Senator Lodge (who can take the poorest arguments in the
World and dress them up in perfect English and sell them) after
hearing my Act on the Stage, say: “William” (that’s English for Will),
“William, I could not comprehend a Word of the Language you speak, but
you do Masticate uncompromisingly excellent.”

This reception which I received at the Wrigley Home was so in contrast
to the one which I received at Mr. Adolphus Busch’s in St. Louis.
When he heard that one of his best Customers was at the outer Gate,
Mr. Busch not only welcomed me, but sent me a fine German Police Dog
to California, the stock of which had come direct from the Kaiser’s
Kennels in Pottsdam. The Dog did wonderful until some one here by
mistake gave him a drink of Half of One Percent Beer. He would have
been six years old next May.

After looking on Mr. Wrigley’s home with much admiration and no little
envy, the thought struck me: A man to succeed nowadays must have an
Idea. Here I am, struggling along and wasting my time on trying to
find something nice to say of our Public Men, when I should be doing
Something with Dividends connected with it. So then the thought struck
me: WHAT BECOMES OF ALL THE CHEWING GUM THAT IS USED IN THIS COUNTRY?

I just thought to myself, if Bill Wrigley can amass this colossal
fortune, and pay the Manufacturing charges, why can’t I do something
with Second-Hand Gum. I will have no expense, only the accumulation
of the Gum after it is thoroughly masticated. Who would be the most
beneficial to mankind, the man who invented Chewing Gum, or me who can
find a use for it? Why, say, if I can take a wad of old Gum and graft
it onto some other substance, I will be the modern Burbank. (With the
ideas I have got for used Gum I may be honored by my Native State of
Oklahoma by being made Governor, with the impeachment clause scratched
out of the Contract.)

All Wrigley had was an Idea. He was the first man to discover that the
American Jaws must wag. So why not give them something to wag against?
That is, put in a kind of Shock Absorber.

If it wasn’t for Chewing Gum, Americans would wear their teeth off just
hitting them against each other. Every Scientist has been figuring
out who the different races descend from. I don’t know about the other
Tribes, but I do know that the American Race descended from the Cow.
And Wrigley was smart enough to furnish the Cud. He has made the whole
World chew for Democracy.

That’s why this subject touches me so deeply. I have chewed more Gum
than any living Man. My Act on the Stage depended on the grade of Gum
I chewed. Lots of my readers have seen me and perhaps noted the poor
quality of my jokes on that particular night. Now I was not personally
responsible for that. I just happened to hit on a poor piece of Gum.
One can’t always go by the brand. There just may be a poor stick of Gum
in what otherwise may be a perfect package. It may look like the others
on the outside but after you get warmed up on it, why, you will find
that it has a flaw in it. And hence my act would suffer. I have always
maintained that big Manufacturers of America’s greatest necessity
should have a Taster--a man who personally tries every Piece of Gum put
out.

Now lots of People don’t figure the lasting quality of Gum. Why, I have
had Gum that wouldn’t last you over half a day, while there are others
which are like Wine--they improve with Age.

I hit on a certain piece of Gum once, which I used to park on the
Mirror of my dressing room after each show. Why, you don’t know what a
pleasure it was to chew that Gum. It had a kick, or spring to it, that
you don’t find once in a thousand Packages. I have always thought it
must have been made for Wrigley himself.

And say, what jokes I thought of while chewing that Gum! Ziegfeld
himself couldn’t understand what had put such life and Humor into my
Work.

Then one night it was stolen, and another piece was substituted in
its place, but the minute I started in to work on this other Piece I
knew that someone had made a switch. I knew this was a Fake. I hadn’t
been out on the Stage 3 minutes until half of the audience were asleep
and the other half were hissing me. So I just want to say you can’t
exercise too much care and judgment in the selection of your Gum,
because if it acts that way with me in my work, it must do the same
with others, only they have not made the study of it that I have.

Now you take Bryan. I lay his downfall to Gum. You put that man on
good Gum and he will be parking it right under the White House Dinner
Table.

Now, some Gum won’t stick easy. It’s hard to transfer from your hand to
the Chair. Other kinds are heavy and pull hard. It’s almost impossible
to remove them from Wood or Varnish without losing a certain amount of
the Body of the Gum.

There is lots to be said for Gum. This pet Piece of mine I afterwards
learned had been stolen by a Follies Show Girl, who two weeks later
married an Oil Millionaire.

Gum is the only ingredient of our National Life of which no one knows
how or of what it is made. We know that Sawdust makes our Breakfast
food. We know that Tomato Cans constitute Ford Bodies. We know that old
Second-hand Newspapers make our 15 dollar Shoes. We know that Cotton
makes our All-Wool Suits. But no one knows yet what constitutes a
mouthful of Chewing Gum.

But I claim if you can make it out of old Rubber Boots and Tires and
every form of old junk, why can’t I, after reassembling it, put it
back into these same Commodities? No one has found a substitute for
Concrete. Why not Gum? Harden the surface so the Pedestrians would
not vacate with your street. What could be better for a Dam for a
River than old Chewing Gum? Put one Female College on the banks of the
Grand Canyon, and they will Dam it up in 2 years, provided they use
discretion in their parking.

Now, as for my plans of accumulation, put a Man at every Gum selling
place. The minute a Customer buys, he follows him. He don’t have to
watch where he throws it when through; all he has to do is to follow.
He will step on it sooner or later no matter where they throw it.

When he feels it, he immediately cuts off the part of the shoe where
it is stuck on, so he can save the entire piece. Then he goes back and
awaits another buyer.

I have gone into the matter so thoroughly that I made a week’s test at
a friend of mine’s Theatre. At one of Mr. Sid Grauman’s Movie Theatres
here, I gathered gum for one week and kept account of the intake every
day. My statistics have proven that every Seat in every Movie Theatre
will yield a half Pint of Gum every 2 days, some only just slightly
used.

Now that gives us an average of a Pint and a Half every six days,
not counting Sunday where the Pro Rata really increases. Now figure
the seating capacity of the Theatre and you arrive at just what our
Proposition will yield in a good solid commodity.

Of course, this thing is too big for me to handle personally. I can,
myself, disrobe, after every Show, one Theatre and perhaps a Church on
Sunday. But to make it National I have to form it into a Trust. We will
call it the “Remodeled Chewing Gum Corporation.”

Don’t call it Second Hand; there is no Dignity in that name. If we say
“remodeled” why every Bird in America falls for that.

Of course, it is my idea ultimately after we have assembled more than
we can use for Concrete and Tires and Rubber Boots to get a Press of
some kind and mash it up in different and odd shapes.

(You know there is nothing that takes at a Dinner like some Popular
Juice Flavor to our Remodeled and overhauled Product. I would suggest
Wood Alcohol. That would combine two Industries into one.)

I want to put flavors in there where we can take some of this colossal
trade away from these Plutocratic Top Booted Gentlemen. If we can
get just enough of this Wood Alcohol into our reassembled Gum to make
them feel it and still not totally destroy our Customer we will have
improved on the Modern Bootlegger as he can only sell to the same man
once.

Now, Gentlemen and Ladies, you have my proposition. Get in early on,
“Old Gum made as good as New.” Think of the different brands that would
be popular, “Peruna Flavor Gum,” “Jamaica Ginger Gum,” “Glover’s Mange
Gum,” “Lysol Gum.”

It looks like a great proposition to me. It will be the only Industry
in the World where all we have to do is to just pick it up, already
made, and flavor it.

I am going to put this thing up to my friend, Henry Ford. Think, with
no overhead, how he could keep the Cost down. It’s a better proposition
than being President.




INSIDE STUFF ON THE TOTAL ECLIPSE

[Illustration: THE MORE GLASSES YOU USED THE MORE ECLIPSE YOU COULD
SEE.]




INSIDE STUFF ON THE TOTAL ECLIPSE


Well, I have just this minute returned from Tia Juana, Mexico, where
I along with some thousands of other Scientists went to observe the
Total Eclipse. That is that was their excuse for going. You know it
don’t take much excuse to get a man, or Woman either, to go to Mexico
nowadays. So when the Scientists said that Los Angeles was only to get
a 99 percent Eclipse, (That is about the only thing I ever knew Los
Angeles to fall down on. They are generally 100 percent) it kinder hurt
their pride. It was the first time that Nature had ever handed them a
mere 99.

I don’t really think they would have ever gotten over it but San
Francisco only received some 85 or 90 percent so that kinder salved
things over.

But the Chamber of Commerce has held a meeting and voted Resolutions to
apply for the next Eclipse in its entirety. They claim that it was due
to the Club not giving the matter more thought that they lost the One
Percent on this one.

Well, the Scientist Road Map showed that Catilina Island and San Diego
and Tia Juana, were right in the path of total blackness. Everybody
that could get out of a Cafeteria line in time to make the trip
started for one of these places. Catilina Island offered wonderful
possibilities. You could get two rounds of Seasickness, see the Eclipse
and get your Chewing Gum at cost--all in one day’s pleasure.

San Diego is a Town built in the most South Westerly part of the United
States where Americans who are coming out of Mexico sober up, before
being able to go to their various homes, and it is really remarkable
what a thriving Town it is. You would be surprised at the business they
do.

There are nice Hotels there with Ice Water in every room, and even
Banks where you can draw Drafts on your Home Bank after a Day in Mexico
at the Tables (as they say in Monte Carlo books). San Diego catches
very few going down into Mexico, (only the Punctures) as most People
are in a great hurry to get there, once you begin to reach this Oasis.

So you see it didn’t take much decision on my part to decide that if
I, along with the other Scientists who were to write on this Traffic
accident in the Skies, wanted to pick out an observatory there was no
particular reason why we should select a Dry one.

Well, my friend Mr. Henry Ford may or may not ever be President, but I
want to publicly say this to him, that the people he sells his Cars to
are of a very high type of intelligence. I never saw so many owners of
one make of car so interested in Astronomy in my life. There were not
only Autos of every make but people of every make, jammed two rows deep
for 150 miles struggling to reach Tia Juana, Mexico FOR THE ECLIPSE.

You would see people going to Mexico to see this eclipse, who, if you
looked at them, you wouldn’t think they knew when Sunday passed between
Monday and Saturday, much less when the Moon passed between the Sun and
Earth.

Now, as I say, we passed through some 70 miles of United States
Territory that was to be blotted out totally, but there wasn’t an
observatory in the entire region. Being my first year as a Journalist
and this being my first assignment to cover a total Eclipse for the
various papers who crave my Scientific knowledge, I am really ashamed
to admit it, but, outside of not even knowing what an Eclipse was
or when one was to happen, I had never even entered one of their
Observatories where they watch these Eclipses; so it was with the
greatest anxiety and enthusiasm that I dashed up to the Mexico line.

The Country to the south of us we have lately recognized. (The receipt
for any other Nation that wants us to recognize them, is to strike Oil,
or some other commodity that our Capitalists want.) But this editorial
is not on our Foreign Relations. That I will take up in due time as
we have some Foreign Relations. This is to be on the Planets, their
various Routes, mode and speed of travel.

A great many Scientists, I had read in the papers, were bringing
Cameras to Photograph this remarkable phenomenon. But most of the
Scientists that I saw had Jugs and Flasks. Well, not being up on
Science, I didn’t know what to bring. You know these Scientists are
such a queer lot I wouldn’t be surprised at anything they do.

Well, I asked the Custom Inspector where the Observatory was. He said,
“Which one?” I said, “Lick.” (That was the only one I had ever heard
of.) He said, “Right over there is one, if it ain’t all Licked up.”

You never saw such an accommodating Country in the World. Just think
the preparations they had gone through for the visiting Scientists’
Pleasure. They had built these Observatories all over the place right
up to the line where you would lose no time. You could start observing
the minute you got into the Country.

Now, there is apt to be among my readers some who are as ignorant as
I was about the inside of an Observatory, so for their benefit I will
explain just what it is like. On the left, as you enter, is a long
Table affair, that runs the length of the room. It’s really higher than
a Table, and back of it is a long Mirror where you get the reflections
of any local Eclipses that might happen. Then on the bottom, outside
this high counter, is a little low railing that Singers’ Midgets could
look over if they wanted to see an Eclipse.

Now, up here in Los Angeles, they talked about smoked Glasses, but
down there they just filled them and looked through them, and the more
Glasses you used, and the more different kinds of glasses, why, the
more Eclipse you could see. Some men would have to get the man to let
them try a dozen different Glasses before they could get the right
Focus.

Then, on the other side of the room, if you didn’t want to look
through glasses upside down, why they had various other instruments of
knowledge. One was a Table with little Cubes cut square (or apparently
square) with Dots on them and the Scientist would shake them in his
hand and lay down some Money, and then let them empty out his hand.
Then another Scientist, even more of a Scientist, would pick up the
money in one hand and the little squares in the other and hand the
squares to another Scientist and put the money in his Pocket. Then the
same operation would be gone through, till each Scientist, except the
good one, would be Gone Through.

I asked a visiting Astronomy Professor what the idea was. He said, “You
can see if you are right.” I says, “What has that got to do with the
eclipse?” He says, “Why you bet on the passing.” So I bet him I would
pass but I didn’t, so now I want the Scientist to figure out in what
year I am going to pass.

By that time it was 12.50 P. M. so I come out of the Observatory as
that was the time it was supposed to be Total, but there wasn’t a
Soul on the Streets or outside any place. Everybody was on the inside
looking at the Eclipse. It was pretty dark on the Street and a Mexican
who lived in the edge of the Town started milking his Cow, and raising
the mischief with his wife because she didn’t have his supper ready.

One fellow staggered out of an Observatory and I asked him if he
had seen the Eclipse and he said, “Which one?” But it certainly was
a success from a Scientific point of view, for away along in the
evening after it had gotten light, I saw Astronomers piled up in every
Observatory just overcome by what the Scientists call the Corona, or
after effects of an Eclipse.

Oh yes, the Mexicans also put on for the visiting Astrologers a Bull
Fight. It was held at the lower end of the Town. You had to pass every
Observatory in town before you reached the Bull Ring.

Well, I went down and there was lots of Natives but very few Americans.
As I say, it was held at the wrong end of the Town for them to reach
it. I guess it was the only Fight ever held during an Eclipse.

Can you imagine getting in a Pen with a Bull in the dark. I wouldn’t
even get in with one in the light. Well, the Bulls turned out to
be Steers. I guess on account of the Eclipse and the Condition the
Americans would be in, the Mexicans figured they wouldn’t know the
difference. They didn’t kill the Bulls, and the Bulls wasn’t lucky
enough to do any damage themselves. As a strict Humane man I could see
nothing to kick about, only from an audience’s standpoint.

So I left Tia Juana and come back to this side where everybody had
looked at the Eclipse from out of doors, and they all seemed to be
kinder disappointed. It didn’t do anything. You see from the amount of
Press stuff written about it most people kinder thought it would do
some tricks, maybe juggle or shimmy or something like that. It just
passed--that’s all. I, personally, along with all the others couldn’t
see anything so wonderful about it’s doing that. If the two planets
hadn’t passed but had hit, that would have been something to see.

Of course, I will admit in this day of congested Traffic, for any two
given objects to meet and pass without hitting is considered wonderful.

Everybody I talked with seemed to be unanimous that they would rather
have seen the Dempsey and Firpo fight. So I guess that is why they only
have Eclipses every 100 years so they won’t have to draw from the same
crowd twice.

But no one who saw it from Mexico had any fault to find with it at all.
If there is any great thing happening and you are not right sure you
will enjoy it, why, go to Mexico and see it.

I tell you a thing looks different from a foreign country. I wish I
could have seen the Democratic and Republican Conventions from Tia
Juana.

The Eclipse was kinder overrated but I tell you Mexico ain’t.




IT’S TIME SOMEBODY SAID A WORD FOR CALIFORNIA

(_A speech delivered impromptu at a Dinner to the Old Settlers of
California. Mr. Rogers had another speech prepared but when he found
everybody boosting California he changed his speech._)

[Illustration: I JUST HAPPENED TO REMEMBER THAT NO ONE HAD SAID A WORD
FOR CALIFORNIA.]




IT’S TIME SOMEBODY SAID A WORD FOR CALIFORNIA


I attended a dinner the other morning given for the Old Settlers of
California. No one was allowed to attend unless he had been in the
State 2 and one-half years.

I was the last speaker on the Menu. They put me last, figuring
everybody would either be asleep or gone by the time I began.

Well sir, do you know, by the time it got to me there was nothing
left to talk on! But I just happened to notice that in all the other
speeches no one had mentioned California, so as that was all I had left
I just had to go ahead and do the best I could with California.

Now, it ain’t much of a speech but it is at least a novelty, because in
all my time out here I had never heard the subject used before at any
Dinners or Luncheons.

Mr. Toastmaster, Ladies and Gentlemen, and Members of the Old
California Settlers Association: Your previous speakers have taken up
so much time boosting and praising other States and their People that
it is now most daylight, and I am at a loss to pick a subject, but at
the last minute I just happened to remember that no one had said a word
for California. So I will take up this very remote subject and see if I
can’t do something to drag it out of the obscurity in which it has been
placed here tonight.

Being one of your old Timers (I have been a resident of this State
now for nearly 4 years; there is only one other older member in the
organization) I want to say right here that you often hear it said,
“What is the matter with California?” Well, I will tell you what is the
matter--it’s MODESTY, that’s what it is, too much MODESTY.

If we got out and blew our own Horns and Advertised and boosted our
State like Delaware, and Rhode Island have, we wouldn’t be so little
heard of. So, whether you like it or not fellow Statesmen, I for one am
going to throw Modesty to the winds and just tell the World off-hand a
few of the things that we have got out here.

Now, just picking subjects at random, what do you suppose we could do
if we wanted to say something about CLIMATE? Why, that item alone would
draw people here. But what do we do? We just set here and say nothing.
We go out of the State and we are so darn generous that all we do is
brag on the place where we are. We never think of handing our own State
a little free advertising.

But you take, as I say, a fellow from Delaware, and he is preaching
Delaware and all its advantages from the time you meet him till you
leave him, and by golly, it pays to do that. Look at Delaware today! So
never mind this old good fellow spirit of giving the other fellow the
best of it. I believe in throwing in a little boost for the old Native
Heath.

Now I know you other members don’t agree with me and think that we
should think of our proud traditions and not stoop so low as to have to
advertise but I tell you that this day and time is a commercial Age,
and we have got to throw our Pride away and let the World know just
what we have here.

There is no reason why other People from neighboring States shouldn’t
know of our Climate. Why keep it hid? It’s here. We got it. They can’t
take it away with them.

Of course, I will admit that we have done a little good in a small
way with Picture Post Cards. Five years ago Iowa was a prosperous and
satisfied State. They had no idea of leaving. They had shoveled snow
for 5 months every year and figured they would always shovel snow 5
months every year. But finally one day a Twenty Dollar Bill come into
the State and a Farmer wanted to get change for it, so he started out
trying to get it changed and wound up in Long Beach, California.

A fellow selling Roses in January changed it for him, and when the
Farmer pulled off his Mittens to count the change he found that it
was warm and he didn’t have to put the mittens back on again. That
made quite a hit with him and he decided to stay awhile. So he sent a
Picture Post Card back with the Picture of a Man Picking Oranges off
the trees in January, and told them how fine it was and everybody that
read the Post Card, including the Postmaster come on out.

So when they came they sent back Picture Post Cards to all their
Friends who liked Oranges, and in time they came too, and so on, each
newcomer bringing out just as many more as he could afford Post Cards.
Now in the short space of 5 years look what has happened. The whole of
the State of Iowa is here. The only ones left back there are the ones
who can’t read the Post Cards, or People who don’t care for Oranges,
and now I see where they have put in Schools to teach those others to
read so that means we will eventually have them all, with the exception
of the ones who don’t like Oranges.

Now, as I say, if all of that can be done with just Picture Post Cards,
what do you suppose could have been done if the Newspapers of our State
had thought to have said something in praise of our Climate? So, Fellow
Old Timers, if we can get the grand State of Iowa out here on a Picture
Post Card of an Orange Tree, what could we do with some of these other
States if we really devoted a little of our time to it!

Why, Oranges are a small time commodity with us. We raise more Beans on
one farm here without Irrigating than we do Oranges in the whole State.
If we had Picture Post Cards of Bean Fields instead of Orange Fields
we could get the whole of Boston here the same as we did with Iowa.
You will do even better with Boston than you did with Iowa because
everybody there likes Beans. So let’s get busy and let them know what
we are doing in the Bean line.

Take the case of Oil. You all know we struck Oil here in Southern
California. But did you let anybody else know it? No, you didn’t say
a word about it, and as a consequence, a man can’t even find a place
to buy an Oil Stock. Now there are lots of People would buy shares and
Units, but no, you are so darn MODEST you won’t let the World know what
we have.

I would like to have seen what Delaware would have done if they had
found this much Oil. They would have sold so much Stock that if the
Pacific Ocean had been Oil it wouldn’t have paid back the Buyers.

Look at Real Estate. Here we have the greatest Land and Lots that ever
laid out of doors, but do we do anything with them? No! We just set
here. We never advertise them; we never boost them. I wish you could
see what the State of Delaware would do if they had the same class of
lots that we have here. Why they would have Sub-Divisions all over
the place. They would have Barbecues, and Drawings, and Scream Stars
personally appearing, and men under umbrellas selling each lot. But
no, we are too conservative; we like to sit here and let the stuff
speak for itself. But I tell you, Fellow Old Timers, you can’t do that
nowadays. It’s all right for a State to build up a Reputation for
Modesty and be known as always having a good word to say for the other
place, but I tell you we have carried it too far for our own good.

Of course I can appreciate you other old Timers’ feelings in the
matter. You have been here and helped build it to what it even is
today, and you resent these Johnny Newcomers coming in and spoiling all
of our old customs and Traditions. I know it is hard to change with the
Times. We old Timers who have seen this place grow from what it was 2
and a half years ago to what it is today, must realize these stacks of
young fellows coming in here the last two weeks must have the right
idea, and we must begin to realize that after all it is the general
welfare of the entire community we are after.

So, Fellow Members, if my little speech has been the means of changing
just one of you from your Iron Clad rule of Modesty in regard to your
Home state, why I will feel that my little efforts will not have been
in vain.

So from now on I am for letting the World know of California, even if
the rest of the State does disapprove of it, and I sit down amid HISSES
from the MODEST Oldtimers.




PROMOTING THE OCEANLESS ONE PIECE SUIT

[Illustration: I WANT TO DO SOMETHING FOR THE HOME TOWN GIRL SO SHE CAN
STAY AT HOME AND SHOW HOW AND WHAT SHE IS MADE OF.]




PROMOTING THE OCEANLESS ONE PIECE SUIT


Everybody at some time in life feels a call within Him or Her, as the
gender may be, to try and Promote something or other, that is to form
a Company and sell Stock. We have all bought so much and been stung so
often that we want to try the side where the Money comes in, instead of
going out.

One-third of the people in the United States promote, while the other
two-thirds Provide. There are more commissions paid out to Stock
Salesmen than are ever collected by Stock Buyers. So, after living
honest for years, the thing naturally becomes monotonous and we feel a
hankering to Promote.

Now, I had reached that stage in life where I had thought maybe
I would get by clear to the end without Promoting something
and sticking my Friends. But the old Bug has bit me; the old
Make-it-easy-without-working has got me. So I am now branching out as a
Promotor, Throwing the Rope, Chewing Gum, Acting a Fool in the Movies,
Robbing Ziegfeld, and Writing for a Living. All these are side lines
from now on. I am now a Promotor. A Promotor is a man who would rather
stick a Friend than to sell Henry Ford a Synagogue.

Of course my proposition is different. (Did you ever hear one of them
pull that Gag before?)

My proposition is of Interest to every Town of any size in America.
I am forming Clubs, called Swimming or Bathing Clubs, or any Aquatic
name. A great many Towns have been denied the privilege of having
these Clubs, heretofore, as they were not situated near any Body of
Water. Now I have been to all the prominent Beaches in the East, and
this summer have had a chance to study the various Water Resorts of
California.

I have paid particular attention to the Habits and procedure of
Club Members and their Guests and I think I can do the same for the
Non-irrigated Portion of this Country as is being enjoyed by the Tidal
Wave region.

I come into your Town and start promoting (we will call it a swimming
or Beach Club). I sell memberships for, we will say, the nominal sum
of 500 dollars a piece. That makes it high enough to keep out the
substantial people who really after all are rather old-fashioned, and
allows us to take into our Club some of our most prominent Bootleggers,
Oil Magnates, who have worked their way up from the bottom in the last
year, and just the people of the Town who do things--in other words,
the ones who belong.

We build the Club House (a rather long rambling affair) on some ground
which we can get at a nominal figure (as I will explain the value of
Citizens like we will have being located in their midst, and what our
Club will do for the surrounding Land). Now, the great advantage that
my Clubs will have over the present ones in our Beach Cities is that we
will build ours right in the heart of the Town, so the Tired Business
Man can reach it even for Lunch, whereas in other places they have to
go miles to reach a Beach Club. We will have a Uniformed man at the
door to meet the Cars, as nothing impresses the newly rich so much as
Gold Braid.

Our Cafe prices will be high enough so that if a Member takes a friend
any other place he will be considered rather a short Sport. Each member
will have his Private Locker (including a Corkscrew), where he can
change to his bathing Suit. There will be a wide Veranda under awnings
where Members may dine in their Suits, and other Tables which are not
protected from the Rays of the Sun, where the more Hardy Members may
sit and acquire a Tan.

Of course one item of expense in connection with these Clubs which will
require me to expend quite a tidy sum is having Ocean Sand transported
to these Towns and then by Truck to the center of the City.

This sand must be spread very, very thick, as the principal pastime
of the Members and Guests will be to lay right down in it and try and
cover each other entirely up. Oh, it’s a ripping experience that you in
the inland Cities have missed, if you have never tried it.

Mind you, this 500 dollars which I receive per each will not all be
profit as I will be called upon to purchase a Medicine Ball or so.
That is a Beach Sport that only the most Athletic and reckless of our
Membership would dare enter into--tossing this ferocious Ball from
one to the other. I have seen a Game of it last, if there were Female
Spectators, as long as three or four minutes.

Then, for the more skilled, there is Baseball on the Beach which is
played with a Rubber Tennis Ball. I have seen men graduate from that
right into some of our best Tea and Cake Hounds.

We will have beautifully striped Umbrellas placed at intervals over the
Beach for those who become fatigued in parading. When there is a big
crowd and you have to walk by everybody in your Bathing Suit it tires
one more than the uninitiated would think. And we’ll have a Life Guard
(perhaps a Native of Honolulu if we can procure one). At any rate, we
will get the most sunburned one we can, for the less fortunate ones to
compare their Tan with. He will be provided with Smelling Salts, and
other restoratives in case a Wife should unexpectedly discover her own
Husband with some other One Piece Suit Female Companion.

There will be Life Lines across the sands, so the more fore-sighted of
the members can find their way during the afternoon back and forth to
their Lockers.

Now, I think I have enumerated all that is required to successfully
operate one of these Beach Clubs. Of course, most of them heretofore
have had Water but in all my experience (which runs over a term of
years) I have never seen a Member willfully enter this Water. Years ago
at one of the Eastern Beaches they claim a man went into the water,
but this has never been verified, and so far as the ladies go, there
hasn’t been a swell Bathing Suit wet since Kellermann retired.

Now you see my scheme. I have laid it before you. Nobody ever thought
of it because they were not a close observer like I have been.
They just naturally thought Water was required, but it is the most
unnecessary thing connected with a Beach Club. Of course, Showers are
provided for those who do not care to sleep with sand in their bed.

Just think of a Club right at your door where you can run down and
change Clothes and display your figure without having to go to Palm
Beach or Del Monte! Besides, I am showing you how you can display it to
the People who you want to see it--not to a lot of strangers. Show it
right where it will do you the most good.

If I had thought of this sooner and we had had one in my home of
Claremore, Oklahoma (home of best Radium Water in the World) and I
could have paraded up and down with my shape, I would have been able to
settle down a lot earlier.

I tell you my scheme is a boost for home Talent. Many a Girl, if she
could have shown off properly at home, would have never had to leave
there. Now, if you think my scheme is crazy, you go to the Ocean where
there is a Beach to parade on and see how many ever go in swimming
where there is nothing but Swimming Water.

No sir, the Sand and the Clothes are the thing--not the Water. So I
will put my scheme over, not only for the selfish motive of making
money, but because I want to do something for the home Town Girl who
hasn’t the money to go to Narragansett Pier to be properly appreciated,
but can stay at home and show how and what she is made of.




WARNING TO JOKERS: LAY OFF THE PRINCE

[Illustration: SO I GOT ME SOME OF THOSE LONG-HANDLED WOODEN HAMMERS
AND STARTED IN AT POLO.]




WARNING TO JOKERS: LAY OFF THE PRINCE


I want hereby, and hereon, to publicly issue a protest to my fellow
Writers, and Comedians, against the use of Cartoons, Editorials,
Paragraphs, Free Verse, or any form of Public Notice, Jibing, or Poking
Fun or attempting to be Funny, at the Expense of the Prince of Wales,
falling off his Horse.

My reasons are two fold, first on account of it being passé, and
secondly on account of the happenings of the past week to my own
Immediate Person. Now everything is funny as long as it is happening to
somebody Else, but when it happens to you, why it seems to lose some of
its Humor, and if it keeps on happening, why the entire laughter kinder
Fades out of it.

Last year in New York it was one of my sure fire subjects to remark
about the Prince of Wales staking himself out a six foot Claim in some
part of England. And I remember one choice morsel of Gossip I had was
that I was going to get appointed as Ambassador to England so I could
go riding with the Prince and be able to rope his Horse and bring him
Back to him. And another was, “I see where the Prince of Wales fell off
his Horse again today. But that ain’t News any more. If he stayed on
That Would Be News.” Well that always knocked the audience right back
on their Flasks.

Now in those days, which was a Year ago, that was very Komical both
to me and the audience. But of course now it has finally reached the
Comic Strip Cartoons, really earlier than a joke generally does, and
even the Editorial Writers are commenting on it, in what they term a
lighter vein. Now an Editorial Writer is the last man in the World to
find anything out, so you will see how old and out of date it must be
to refer to now.

But all this has nothing to do with my real Reason. I always have a few
old Ponies for me and the Children to play around with, so somebody
said, “Will, why don’t you play Polo? Anybody that can ride can play
Polo.” And me, like a Fool, believed him. Why that is as absurd as
saying anybody that can walk would make a good Golf Player, or anybody
that looks good in a Bathing Suit will make a good swimmer.

Now I want it distinctly understood that I did not take up Polo for
any Social Prestige, or to make myself pointed out as a Man about Town.
If I was the Champion Polo Player of the World, I still couldn’t drink
a Cup of Tea without using the saucer. And another reason I always
hesitated on taking up the Game was account of the White Breeches.
I had always been reared to believe that White Breeches should be
concealed beneath Black or Gray ones--at least in Public.

The people that think riding a Horse is all there is to Polo, are the
same people that think Curls are all there is to Mary Pickford. I can
also walk, but I can’t sweep a Golf Ball into one of those Holes with a
Broom.

So I got me some of those long handled wooden Hammers and started in at
Polo. You know some men like to have their Fields harrowed and plowed,
and I had not played Polo two days until I was offered a job to come
over and Play on their Ground as they wanted it dug up. Finally I got
so every once in a while I would hit the Ball. But it seemed like
every time I hit the Ball it would get mad and go off in an opposite
direction.

Well, finally I got to playing in Practice Games, more for the Comedy
I would cause than through any good I might do my side. If the Purple
and Whites had a Game I might wear a Purple Jersey, but in reality I
would be playing with the Whites.

Then come a Polo Tournament held at Coronado Beach. So as I was
scheduled to play in one of the Minor League, or Small Time events, I
go down and one day we are having a Friendly practice Game with a few
looking on. Three of us beginners all bump together, Mind you, we are
all three on the same side. We knock our Horses down, I fall on my head
and of course, am not hurt.

The Referee called an Unusual Foul. He said I had fouled by running
over two of my own side. Well, the next day was the Big game; we were
to play the 11th Cavalry from Monterey. They sure were a fine bunch of
Boys, and hard Riders. Things were going along Pretty Good until along
about the 3rd Act, I was on a new Pony who suddenly reared up and Fell
Back on Me. There he was, a laying right across my Intermission. My
Head was out on one side and my Feet on the other; that was all you
could see. When he got up I knew for the first time how the Prince must
have felt.

Well, everything goes K.O. for two more periods. I am on a Friend’s
Horse and coming lickerty split down the field, when for no Reason at
all the horse crosses his front legs and starts turning Somersaults.
They picked me up just south of Santa Barbara.

The crowd all said, “Oh that’s Will Rogers the Comedian. He just does
that for laughs.” The Papers next day all said, “Comedian Spills off
Horse Twice at Polo Game.”

Now I will admit there was not quite the same Publicity given to all my
various Falls as to those of the Prince. But the hurt was just as bad.
Everybody that reads about it had been kidding me about being the Local
Prince of Wales of America. But what I want to know from some of these
Newspaper Riders is what I am supposed to do in case the Horse falls.

Are the Prince and I supposed to fall With the Horse, or are we
supposed to stay up there in the air until he gets Up, and comes back
up under us? Every fall that the Prince has had has been caused by a
falling Horse, not by being thrown From one. In the future the Prince
and I will personally pay in the papers for the extra two lines that
will announce that “the Horse going down had something to do with our
going off.”

England is all worked up over his numerous Falls, but up to now no
one has manifested much interest in any of mine, only for laughing
purposes. At least none of the prominent Washington Politicians have
asked me to cease my Riding. I want some concern paid to my welfare.
In my falls I am not fortunate enough to spill any Royal Blood, but
it’s my Blood, and it’s all I got. It’s kinder funny but no matter how
common our blood is, we hate to Lose any of it.

I saw a Picture in the Paper last summer where the Prince was on one of
his Horses and its name was Will Rogers. Now I got all swelled Up when
I saw he had a Horse named for me, but maybe that was the one that has
been doing all this high and lofty Tumbling. As a suggestion, if our
respective Countries want to do something to protect our Welfare, the
best thing I can suggest would be to get us some Horses that can stand
up, for the Prince and I both have to take every Precaution to protect
our Looks. It would be terrible if his face was marred. And I certainly
don’t want anything to happen to Mine to make it look Better. My
living depends on it, just as it Is.

The only thing that makes me sore is that I haven’t got the nerve to
do some of the riding stunts that the Prince goes after. He goes over
Jumps that I wouldn’t have the nerve to climb over on foot. Then if
he gets a fall a lot of us alleged Humorists (who would be afraid to
lead one of his horses to water with a 20 foot Halter rope) start in
rewriting original Jokes about the Prince’s Horsemanship.

I saw a Picture of one of his Falls, where the Horse had fallen trying
for a Water Jump. Why that Jump was so wide, that I bet we haven’t got
a Joke Writer in this country could swim across it, and not over two
could row over it.

I am not overly strong for Royalty, but if I had to have one of Them
over me I don’t know of one that I would rather have than this same
Bird, and most of this Admiration has been won by his Horsemanship, not
by the Lack of it.

Lots of women have it in for him because he has not married, But with
all of them making a silly play for him, I admire his Judgment as much
as his Horsemanship. So here is an appeal to my fellow Jokesters: If
you want to kid somebody on their Riding go to Central Park, don’t go
to England unless, as I say, you have some Solution for a man staying
up while the Horse is going Down.

P. S. I only had one thing to be thankful for in my falls. I
practically Ruined the only Pair of White Breeches I had, of course,
it’s all right with the Prince--he can wear his Daddy’s. But from now
on I will get to play in Chaps.




SPRING IS HERE, WITH POEMS AND BATH TUBS

[Illustration: THE FAMILY WASH-TUB WAS DRAGGED UP BY THE FIRE.]




SPRING IS HERE, WITH POEMS AND BATH TUBS


Well, there has been quite a bit happened since I last communed with
you. Spring is coming; I can tell by the Poetry and the Real Estate
ads. A Poet exists all year just to get his Poem published in the
Spring. Then when he sees it in print he starts getting next Spring’s
verse all ready. These early Spring Real Estate ads read, “This House
is located on the shady banks of a Beautiful stream.” Say, if there is
a beautiful stream anywhere now the Rail Road runs along it and all
you have to do is to get run over by a freight train to reach this
beautiful stream.

A favorite ad is, “Beautiful Home in heart of the most exclusive
Residential District, 5 Master Bedrooms and 9 baths; Owner going to
Europe.” Now let’s just take that ad out and dissect it and see what it
is.

In a Real Estate man’s eye, the most exclusive part of the City is
wherever he has a House to sell. The Dog Pound may be on one side and
the City Incinerator on the other but it’s still exclusive. And it is,
too, for it will be the only house in the world so situated.

Five Master Bedrooms! Now, they get that Master junk from English ads
where the man may be the master. Still, I don’t know why they call all
the rooms his. Over here they call them Master Bedrooms but the Wife
will pick out the Poorest one for him, and keep the other 4 Good ones
for Company.

Now, to the ordinary man on reading that Ad of 9 Baths, that would be
an insult to his cleanliness. A Man would have to be awful Busy to
support that many Baths, unless, of course, he neglected some of them.
The ad might better have read, “Buy our home and live in a Bath Tub.”
The biggest part of City homes nowadays have more Baths than Beds. So,
while they can’t always ask their Company to stay all night as they
have no place to put them, they can at least ask them to Bathe. So,
when you are invited out now, you can always be assured of your private
Bath, but you must leave before Bedtime.

When you visit a friend’s newly finished Home you will be shown through
all the Bath rooms, but when you leave you couldn’t, to save your soul,
tell where the dining room was. They seem to kinder want to camouflage
or hide that nowadays. There is such little eating being done in
the Homes now that a dining room is almost a lost art. Breakfast is
being served in bed, Dinner at the Cabaret with dancing attached, and
Lunch--no up-to-date Man would think of going anywhere but to his Clubs
for lunch. Besides, didn’t he hear a funny one and must get to the Club
to bore his alleged friends with it? He will talk everybody’s left ear
off all day and come home and bite his Wife’s off if she asks him to
tell her the news.

And then they have such an enlightening custom nowadays. Every body
of men who can think of a name have a Club. And is not Congressman
Blindbridle, who has just returned from a free Government trip
to Bermuda, going to deliver a Message at today’s Luncheon on
“Americanism, Or what we owe to the Flag?”

Now, as the dining room space has been eliminated to make room for an
additional Bath, most of the eating, if one happens to be entertaining
at home, is done Off The Lap. This custom of slow starvation has
shown vast improvement of late. Instead of the Napkins being of
Paper, why, they have been supplanted by almost-linen ones with
beautiful hemstitching. That’s to try and get your mind off the lack
of nourishment. As I say, the Napkin is hand sewn but the Lettuce
Sandwiches still come from the Delicatessen.

Why, in the good old days, they couldn’t have fed you on your lap
’cause you couldn’t have held all they would give you. Now you have to
feel for it to find it.

But the Husband does come home some time during the Day or Night, for
is not the overhead on his outlay of Baths going on all the time, and
shouldn’t he be getting home to get some good out of some of them?

It’s not the high cost of Living that is driving us to the Poor
House,--It’s the high Cost of bathing. The big question today is
not what are you going to pay for your plot of ground, but what
kind of fixtures are you going to put in your legion of Bath Rooms.
Manufacturers of Porcelain and Tile have Supplanted the Pocket Flask as
our principal commodity.

The interest on unpaid-for Bath Rooms would pay our National Debt.

Now, mind you, I am not against this modern accomplishment, or
extravagance, of ours. I realize that these Manufacturers of Fixtures
have advanced their Art to the point where they are practically modern
Michael Angelos. Where, in the old days, an Elephant Hook was almost
necessary for a Wife to drag her Husband toward anything that looked
like Water, today those Interior Bath Decorators can almost make one of
those things inviting enough to get in without flinching.

But, in doing so, they have destroyed an American Institution, and
ruined the only Calendar that a Child ever had. That was the Saturday
Night Bath. Nowadays a Child just grows up in ignorance. From the
Cradle to the Altar he don’t know what day of the week it is. In those
good old days he knew that the next morning after that weekly Ear
washing he was going to Sunday School. Now he has not only eliminated
the Bath on Saturday but has practically eliminated the Sunday School,
for neither he nor his Parents know when Sunday comes.

But, in those days, that old Kitchen Stove was kept hot after supper.
And not only the Tea Kettle was filled but other Pots and Pans, and the
Family Wash Tub was dragged up by the Fire, and you went out to the
Well and helped your Pa draw some Water to mix with that hot. While you
was doing that, your Ma, if you stayed Lucky and had a Ma up to then,
was a getting out all the clean Clothes and a fixing the Buttons, and
a laying out the schedule of who was to be first. And She was the only
one could tell just how much hot Water to put in to make it right. And
if anybody had to feel of the hot water and get burned it was always
her, not you, and she found dirt behind, and in, your Ears that all the
highfaluting Fixtures in the World can’t find today.

Now that was an event. It meant something. It brought you closer
together. But now bathing is so common there’s No Kick To It. It’s just
_Bla!!_

The Romans started this Bath Gag; now look what become of them. They
used to have the most beautiful Baths, kind of a Municipal Bath, where
they all met and strolled around and draped themselves on Marble Slabs.
It was a kinder Society event. It compared to our modern Receptions.
I have seen some beautiful Paintings of them, but I have yet to see
a Scene where a Roman was in the Water. But they did look, oh, just
too cunning, sunning themselves out on the Concrete Banks of those
Pools. It must have been like visiting our modern Beaches, where no
one can swim but the Life Guard, and they don’t know that he can as
he has never been called on to go in. But, like the Romans, our Girls
can arrange themselves in the most bewitching shapes out on the sand,
which, after all, must be much more comfortable than the Asphalt that
those little Cæsars had to spread themselves over.

I tell you if Baths keep on multiplying in the modern Home as they have
lately it won’t be 5 Years till a Bath Tub will be as necessary in a
home as a Cocktail Shaker.

If two members of the same household have to use the same Bath, it is
referred to now as a Community Tub.

Statistics have proven that there are 25 Bath Tubs sold to every Bible.

And fifty to every Dictionary, and 389 to every Encyclopedia.

Proving that, while we may be neglecting the Interior, we are looking
after the exterior.

If the Father of our Country, George Washington, was Tutankhamened
tomorrow, and, after being aroused from his Tomb, was told that the
American People today spend two Billion Dollars yearly on Bathing
Material, he would say, “WHAT GOT ’EM SO DIRTY?”




MR. FORD AND OTHER POLITICAL SELF-STARTERS




MR. FORD AND OTHER POLITICAL SELF-STARTERS


Well, there has been quite a stir in the Political News. The big news
was the Ford for President talk, made more important by Mr. Hearst
announcing that he would back him if he run on an independent Ticket.
It only shows you what both of the old line Parties are degenerating
into. Nobody wants to associate with either one of them.

I think that it will be the biggest boost Mr. Ford will have that he
don’t belong to either Party. It’s getting so if a man wants to stand
well socially he can’t afford to be seen with either the Democrats or
the Republicans.

I expect, if it was left to a vote right now by all the people, Mr.
Ford would be voted for by more people than any other man. But, if it
come to a question of counting those votes, I doubt if he even run
third. For, with all the mechanical improvements they have in the way
of adding machines, and counting machines, they can’t seem to invent
anything to take the place of the old Political mode of counting--two
for me and one for you.

More men have been elected between Sundown and Sunup, than ever were
elected between Sunup and Sundown.

Our public men are speaking every day on something, but they ain’t
saying anything. But when Mr. Harding said that, in case of another
war that capital would be drafted the same as men, he put over a
thought that, if carried out, would do more to stop Wars than all the
International Courts and Leagues of Nations in the World.

Of the three things to prevent wars, League of Nations, International
Court, and this Drafting of Capital, this last one is so far ahead of
the others there is no comparison. When that Wall Street Millionaire
knows that you are not only going to come into his office and take his
Secretary and Clerks but that you come in to get his Dough, say Boy,
there wouldn’t be any war. You will hear the question: “Yes, but how
could you do it?”

Say, you take a Boy’s life, don’t you? When you take Boys away you take
everything they have in the World, that is, their life. You send them
to war and part of that life you don’t use you let him come back with
it. Perhaps you may use all of it. Well, that’s the way to do with
wealth. Take all he has, give him a bare living the same as you do the
Soldier. Give him the same allowance as the Soldier--all of us that
stay home. The Government should own everything we have, use what it
needs to conduct the whole expenses of the war and give back what is
left, if there is any, the same as you give back to the Boy what he has
left.

There can be no Profiteering. The Government owns everything till the
war is over. Every Man, Woman and Child, from Henry Ford and John D.
down, get their Dollar and a Quarter a day the same as the Soldier. The
only way a man could profiteer in war like that would be to raise more
Children.

If any man went before the People on a platform of that kind and put it
over, he could remain President till his Whiskers got so long he could
make a fortune just picking the lost Golf Balls out of them. But, no,
it will never get anywhere. The rich will say it ain’t practical, and
the poor will never get a chance to find out if it is or not.

Lincoln made a wonderful speech under similar conditions one time:
“That this Nation under God, shall have a new Birth of Freedom, and
that Government of the people, by the People, for the People, shall not
perish from this earth.”

Now, every time a Politician gets in a speech, he digs up this
Gettysburg quotation. He recites it every Decoration day and practices
the opposite the other 364 days.

If our Government is by the people, how is it the Candidate with the
most votes by the people, going into a Presidential Convention never
got nominated?

Now, Lincoln meant well, but he only succeeded in supplying an applause
line for every Political Speaker who was stuck for a finish.

And that’s the way with Mr. Harding; he certainly meant well, for I can
imagine his feelings after having to mingle for the last 2 years with
some of our War Millionaires who are hanging around Washington, just
laying off between Wars.

And, in after Years, so will this speech of Mr. Harding’s be quoted,
but the minute the fellow gets through quoting it he will go sign a War
Contract for Cost Plus 10 percent.

In our Decoration day speechmaking Mr. Taft spoke at some unveiling of
a Monument in Cincinnati. He made an Alibi for the Supreme Court. I
don’t know what prompted him to tell the dead what the Court was doing,
unless it was some man who had died of old age waiting for a decision
from that August Body.

We can always depend on Judge Gary for a weekly laugh in his
speeches. But lately he had the prize wheeze of his career. He had
his accomplices make an investigation of the Steel Industry, and they
turned in a report that it was much more beneficial to man to work 12
hours a day than 8. They made this report so alluring that it is apt to
make people who read it decide to stay the extra 4 hours on their jobs,
just through the Health and enjoyment they get out of it. I never knew
Steel work was so easy till I read that report. Why, the advantages
they enumerated in this report would almost make a Bootlegger trade
jobs with a Steel Worker. But here is the kick. Judge Gary got up to
read this report before the stock holders who had made it out. He read
for one hour in favor of a 12 hour day. Then he was so exhausted they
had to carry him out, and Charley Schwab had to go on reading the sheet.

Now, if the Judge couldn’t work an hour, how did he expect his workers
to do 12 every day?

After Schwab read for 2 hours the audience was carried out.

It was the greatest boost for the 12 hour day I ever heard of. I am
thinking of going out there and working for them, but, if it is such
a pleasure to work 12 hours, I am going to try and get them to let me
work 18, at least, for I don’t believe I would get enough pleasure out
of just 12.

So if you don’t hear of me next week, you will know I just enjoyed
myself to death in Judge Gary’s Steel Mills in Pittsburgh.




WILSON COULD LAUGH AT A JOKE ON HIMSELF

[Illustration: FINALLY A WARDEN KNOCKED AT MY DRESSING ROOM AND SAID:
“YOU DIE IN 5 MORE MINUTES FOR KIDDING YOUR COUNTRY.”]




WILSON COULD LAUGH AT A JOKE ON HIMSELF


Some of the most glowing and deserved tributes ever paid to the memory
of an American have been paid to our past President Woodrow Wilson.
They have been paid by learned men of this and all Nations, who knew
what to say and how to express their feelings. They spoke of their
close association and personal contact with him. Now I want to add my
little mite even though it be of no importance.

I want to speak and tell of him as I knew him for he was my friend. We
of the stage know that our audiences are our best friends, and he was
the greatest Audience of any Public Man we ever had. I want to tell
of him as I knew him across the footlights. A great many Actors and
Professional people have appeared before him, on various occasions in
wonderful high class endeavors. But I don’t think that any person met
him across the footlights in exactly the personal way that I did on
five different occasions.

Every other Performer or Actor did before him exactly what they had
done before other audiences on the night previous, but I gave a great
deal of time and thought to an Act for him, most of which would never
be used again and had never been used before. Owing to the style of
Act I used, my stuff depended a great deal on what had happened that
particular day or week. It just seemed by an odd chance for me every
time I played before President Wilson that on that particular day there
had been something of great importance that he had just been dealing
with. For you must remember that each day was a day of great stress
with him. He had no easy days. So when I could go into a Theatre and
get laughs out of our President by poking fun at some turn in our
National affairs, I don’t mind telling you it was the happiest moments
of my entire career on the stage.

The first time I shall never forget, for it was the most impressive
and for me the most nervous one of them all. The Friars Club of New
York one of the biggest Theatrical Social Clubs in New York had decided
to make a whirlwind Tour of the principal Cities of the East all in
one week. We played a different City every night. We made a one night
stand out of Chicago and New York. We were billed for Baltimore but
not for Washington. President Wilson came over from Washington to see
the performance. It was the first time in Theatrical History that the
President of the United States came over to Baltimore just to see a
Comedy.

It was just at the time we were having our little Set Too, with Mexico,
and when we were at the height of our Note Exchanging career with
Germany and Austria. The house was packed with the Elite of Baltimore.

The Show was going great. It was a collection of clever Skits, written
mostly by our stage’s greatest Man, George M. Cohan, and even down to
the minor bits was played by Stars with big Reputations. I was the
least known member of the entire Aggregation, doing my little specialty
with a Rope and telling Jokes on National affairs, just a very ordinary
little Vaudeville act by chance sandwiched in among this great array.

I was on late, and as the show went along I would walk out of the Stage
door and out on the Street and try to kill the time and nervousness
until it was time to dress and go on. I had never told Jokes even to
a President, much less about one, especially to his face. Well, I am
not kidding you when I tell you that I was scared to death. I am always
nervous. I never saw an Audience that I ever faced with any confidence.
For no man can ever tell how a given Audience will ever take anything.

But here I was, nothing but a very ordinary Oklahoma Cowpuncher who had
learned to spin a Rope a little and who had learned to read the Daily
Papers a little, going out before the Aristocracy of Baltimore, and the
President of the United States, and kid about some of the Policies with
which he was shaping the Destinies of Nations.

How was I to know but what the audience would rise up in mass and
resent it? I had never heard, and I don’t think any one else had ever
heard of a President being joked personally in a Public Theatre about
the Policies of his administration.

The nearer the time come the worse scared I got, George Cohan, and
Willie Collier, and others, knowing how I felt, would pat me on the
back and tell me, “Why he is just a Human Being; go on out and do
your stuff”. Well if somebody had come through the dressing room and
hollered “Train for Claremore Oklahoma leaving at once”, I would have
been on it. This may sound strange but any who have had the experience
know, that a Presidential appearance in a Theatre, especially outside
Washington, D. C. is a very Rare and unique feeling even to the
Audience. They are keyed up almost as much as the Actors.

At the time of his entrance into the House, everybody stood up, and
there were Plain Clothes men all over the place, back stage and behind
his Box. How was I to know but what one of them might not take a shot
at me if I said anything about him personally?

Finally a Warden knocked at my dressing room door and said, “You die in
5 more minutes for kidding your Country”. They just literally shoved me
out on the Stage.

Now, by a stroke of what I call good fortune, (for I will keep them
always) I have a copy of the entire Acts that I did for President
Wilson on the Five times I worked for him. My first remark in Baltimore
was, “I am kinder nervous here tonight.” Now that is not an especially
bright remark, and I don’t hope to go down in History on the strength
of it, but it was so apparent to the audience that I was speaking the
truth that they laughed heartily at it. After all, we all love honesty.

Then I said, “I shouldn’t be nervous, for this is really my second
Presidential appearance. The first time was when Bryan spoke in our
town once, and I was to follow his speech and do my little Roping Act.”
Well, I heard them laughing, so I took a sly glance at the President’s
Box and sure enough he was laughing just as big as any one. So I went
on, “As I say, I was to follow him, but he spoke so long that it was
so dark when he finished, they couldn’t see my Roping.” That went over
great, so I said “I wonder what ever become of him.” That was all
right, it got over, but still I had made no direct reference to the
President.

Now Pershing was in Mexico at the time, and there was a lot in the
Papers for and against the invasion. I said “I see where they have
captured Villa. Yes, they got him in the morning Editions and the
Afternoon ones let him get away.” Now everybody in the house before
they would laugh looked at the President, to see how he was going to
take it. Well, he started laughing and they all followed suit.

“Villa raided Columbus New Mexico. We had a man on guard that night at
the Post. But to show you how crooked this Villa is, he sneaked up on
the opposite side.” “We chased him over the line 5 miles, but run into
a lot of Government Red Tape and had to come back.” “There is some talk
of getting a Machine Gun if we can borrow one. The one we have now they
are using to train our Army with in Plattsburg. If we go to war we will
just about have to go to the trouble of getting another Gun.”

Now, mind you, he was being criticized on all sides for lack of
preparedness, yet he sat there and led that entire audience in laughing
at the ones on himself.

At that time there was talk of forming an Army of 2 hundred thousand
men, so I said, “we are going to have an Army of 2 hundred thousand
men. Mr. Ford makes 3 hundred thousand Cars every year. I think, Mr.
President, we ought to at least have a Man to every Car.” “See where
they got Villa hemmed in between the Atlantic and Pacific. Now all we
got to do is to stop up both ends.” “Pershing located him at a Town
called, Los Quas Ka Jasbo. Now all we have to do is to locate Los Quas
Ka Jasbo.” “I see by a headline that Villa escapes Net and Flees. We
will never catch him then. Any Mexican that can escape Fleas is beyond
catching.” “But we are doing better toward preparedness now, as one
of my Senators from Oklahoma has sent home a double portion of Garden
Seed.”

After various other ones on Mexico I started in on European affairs
which at that time was long before we entered the war. “We are facing
another Crisis tonight, but our President here has had so many of them
lately that he can just lay right down and sleep beside one of those
things.”

Then I first pulled the one which I am proud to say he afterwards
repeated to various friends as the best one told on him during the
War. I said, “President Wilson is getting along fine now to what he
was a few months ago. Do you realize, People, that at one time in our
negotiations with Germany that he was 5 Notes behind?”

How he did laugh at that! Well, due to him being a good fellow and
setting a real example, I had the proudest and most successful night
I ever had on the stage. I had lots of Gags on other subjects but
the ones on him were the heartiest laughs with him, and so it was
on all the other occasions I played for him. He come back Stage at
intermission and chatted and shook hands with all.

Some time I would like to tell of things he laughed at during the
most serious stages of the Great War. Just think there were hundreds
of millions of Human Beings interested directly in that terrible War,
and yet out of all of them he stands, 5 years after it’s over, as the
greatest man connected with it. What he stood for and died for, will be
strived after for years.

But it will take time for with all our advancement and boasted
Civilization, it’s hard to stamp out selfishness and Greed. For after
all, Nations are nothing but Individuals, and you can’t stop even
Brothers from fighting sometimes. But he helped it along a lot. And
what a wonderful cause to have laid down your life for! The World lost
a Friend. The Theatre lost its greatest supporter. And I lost the most
distinguished Person who ever laughed at my little nonsensical jokes. I
looked forward to it every year. Now I have only to look back on it as
my greatest memory.




A JOB WITH THE JAMES FAMILY

[Illustration: I COULD JUST SORTER NONCHALANTLY STEP ON THE BRIDE’S
TRAIN.]




A JOB WITH THE JAMES FAMILY


  Mr. Warren Gamaliel Harding.
    President of these United States and
      Viceroy of the District of Columbia.
        Chevy Chase Golf Club, Washington, D. C.

  My dear Mr. President,

I see where Mr. Harvey (I mean Col. or, rather, Ambassador) Harvey
is coming back here again. Now I don’t know if it’s a slumming trip
or just what it is, as he was here a few days ago. Maybe he forgot
something in one of his Speeches and is coming back for an Encore. But
in a later Paper I see where he is talking of resigning and not going
back. Now, if that is the case, I hereby make this an open letter to
you, Mr. President, as an application to take said Mr. Harvey (I mean
Editor) Harvey’s place.

I can tell by observation that it does not come under the Civil Service
or competitive examination. Neither, on the other hand, is it a purely
Political appointment, as Mr. Harvey adapted his Politics to fit the
occasion. Now that would not be even necessary in my case as I have no
Politics. I am for the Party that is out of Power, no matter which one
it is. But I will give you my word that, in case of my appointment, I
will not be a Republican; I will do my best to pull with you, and not
embarrass you. In fact, my views on European affairs are so in accord
with You, Mr. President, that I might almost be suspected of being a
Democrat.

Now I want to enumerate a few of my qualifications for the position
of Ambassador to the Court of James (I don’t know whether it’s St. or
Jesse). But, anyway, it’s some of the James Family.

My principal qualification would be my experience in Speechmaking.
That, as statistics have proven, is 90 percent of the duties of
a Diplomat. Now I can’t make as many speeches as my predecessor,
unless, of course, I trained for it. But I would figure on making up
in quality any shortcomings I might have in endurance. For you know,
Mr. President, there is no Race or People in the world who appreciate
quality as the English do.

Now, the way I figure it out, what one has to do is to make his
speeches so that they will sound one way to the English, and the direct
opposite to the Hearst readers back over here. Now George (I don’t
mean King; I mean Col.) was rather unfortunate in that respect; he made
them so they would sound two ways, but both Nations took the wrong way.

Now, for instance, if I wanted Mr. Balfour to take something back, I
would just kid him into it; make him believe I didn’t care whether
he took it back or not. You know how it is, just like the Democrat
Senators do with Lodge.

Another qualification that must not by any means be underestimated
is my Moving Picture experience. You see, for an official position
nowadays, we must pay more attention to how our public men screen if
we are to have to look at them every day in the news films. We must
not only get men with screen personality, but we must get men who know
Camera angles and know when they are getting the worst of it in a
picture and not be caught in the background during the taking of some
big event.

Europeans are far ahead of us in this line of Diplomacy, and, if you
don’t watch them, you are liable to be found photographed with the Mob
instead of the Principals. The thing is to do some little thing during
the taking of the picture that will draw the audience’s attention to
you. For instance, during some Court ceremony, I could just playfully
kick the King. Now you don’t know how a little thing like that would
get over with the public. Or, at one of the big weddings in the Abbey,
I could just sorter nonchalantly step on the bride’s train, as they
passed by, perhaps ripping it off, or any little Diplomatic move like
that. You don’t realize how just little bits like that would make our
Ambassador stand out over all the other Countries.

We have had an example of screen training right here at home. Take
Josephus Daniels when he was working. We spent 4 years sitting in
Picture Houses watching him launch Ships, and at every launching he
could place himself at such an angle that you not only could not see
the Democratic Governor’s Daughter who was to break the Ginger Ale, but
you couldn’t even see the Ship. Now that was not accidental; that was
Art.

And did you ever notice in the weekly News pictures how some Senators
can take a chew of Tobacco right in the scene and you catch yourself
watching them and no one else? Now those are just a few of the little
things that we have to look after if we want to hold our own as the
greatest Credit Nation north of Mexico.

Now, another thing, I ride horseback, so the Prince of Wales and I
could ride together and, on account of my experience with the rope, I
could catch his horse for him.

Then I play a little Polo, just enough to get hit in the mouth, but
the English would enjoy that. When they heard the American Ambassador
had got hit in the mouth and would have to cancel his speech at the
Pilgrims Club, why, that would of course be good news to everybody. You
see you have to give as well as receive in the Diplomatic Circles.

Now, to offset the above mentioned qualifications, I may lack a few
Social ones, but what I lacked in knowledge I could make up in tact. I
would not at any dinner pick up a single weapon until I saw what the
Hostess was going to operate with first. When in doubt, tell a funny
story till you see what the other fellow is going to do.

Then, of course, any glaring error on my part would be laid onto the
customs of my Country and not on me personally.

Then I have an economy measure to recommend me. The Government is
putting into commission the Leviathan, our biggest Ship, and I
could, by entertaining on the Boat going over, save passage fee. I
could arrange a Monologue on, “The Benefits and Accomplishments of
Prohibition,” and, as we passed the three mile limit, I could start in
delivering it and perhaps relieve, or rather add to, the dryness of the
trip. We would have to explain this to the Farmers of the country so
they would not think the ship was getting this feature for nothing. It
could not be considered as Ship Subsidy.

Now the feature that I feel rather modest about referring to, but
which is really my principal asset, is my being able to wear Silk Knee
Breeches--not only wear them, but what I mean, look like something in
them.

It seems that the Lord instead of distributing my very few good points
around as he does on most homely men, why, he just placed all of mine
from the knee down. Now that this thing has come over there, it almost
seems like I was inspired for the part. Say, I can put on those silk
Rompers and clean up. Now I don’t like to grab off a Guy’s job by
knocking him, but you know we haven’t had a decent looking leg over
there in years. Now Harvey’s! Oh, but what’s the use of arguing? You
know you can’t stay in the Follies 7 years on nothing. Well, it wasn’t
my good looks. So what was it but my Shape?

That brings us down to Golf. Now I will have to admit that my political
education has been sadly neglected as I have never walked over many
green pastures. Horses are too cheap for a man to spend half his life
walking over the country looking for holes in the ground. But as I
understand this lack of Golf will not handicap me in England as it
would over here, as Mr. Volstead has not percolated into that land
and the game is still fought out at the 19th hole. And, if I do say
it myself, I do talk a corking Game of Golf. Then another thing, in
looking over the results of the last two International Golf Tournaments
I don’t think they play the game there at all.

Now, Mr. President, if this suggestion receives the consideration that
I think it deserves, I should like to get the appointment at once, as I
want to get over there before all the king’s Children are married. If
one can’t attend a royal marriage, why, their ambassadorship has been a
failure as far as publicity is concerned for that event is the World’s
Series of England.

Now, if you can’t send me there, don’t, just because I have criticized
some of the feminine members of official life in Washington, don’t, for
the Lord’s sake, send me to Chile or Honduras or some of the outlandish
places. I will even promise to hush rather than that.

Now, as to Salary, I will do just the same as the rest of the
Politicians--accept a small salary as pin Money, AND TAKE A CHANCE ON
WHAT I CAN GET.

  Awaiting an early reply, I remain

                                           Yours faithfully,
                                                           WILL ROGERS.

P.S. If you don’t want me, Turkey wants me to represent them in
Washington. So where would you rather have me--in England or
Washington?




LET’S TREAT OUR PRESIDENTS LIKE HUMAN BEINGS




LET’S TREAT OUR PRESIDENTS LIKE HUMAN BEINGS


As I am writing this away out here in California days before you read
it, it’s Sunday and everybody’s thoughts and sympathies are with a
train rushing clear across our Country, passing sorrowfully through
little Towns with Just Folks standing bareheaded paying their respects
to Just Folks going back to Marion to stay with Just Folks.

He goes to his resting place a Martyr, a martyr to the Boneheadedness
of Reception Committees. You wouldn’t ask your hired man to do in one
week the amount of real physical work that each Committee asked him to
do on one day. Imagine three long Speeches in one day in Seattle at
different places, and Parade for two hours in the hot Sun with his hat
off most of the time, besides a thousand other things he was asked to
do.

Just suppose for instance you had a Guest coming to visit you. Would
you start in having him entertain the Neighbors the minute he got
in the House, and then keep every minute of his time occupied till
train time, and then turn him over to the next bunch? Why, no, you
wouldn’t think of such a thing. The first thing you think of when a
friend comes from a long Journey is to have him rest, but because it
is your President he don’t need any. So when the next Congress meets
they should pass a law to shoot all Reception Committees, or teach them
consideration for other People.

If Jack Dempsey had left Washington and undertaken this same strain,
when he got back Uncle Joe Cannon could have licked him.

Any of you who have slept, or tried to, on a Train at Night and got
into a Town early in the morning, you know you don’t feel like speaking
or Parading. You want to go to a Hotel and go to bed. Now can you
imagine the President’s case? Every morning at 6 A. M. to be awakened
by a Band (it wouldn’t be so bad if it was a good Band) and you look
out and there is the Town’s best Citizens in Antique Hats, ready to
show you the Fire House, the new Aqueduct, the High School, and City
Hall. The smell of the Moth Balls from the long tail Coats of the
Committee morning after morning, would give a man some kind of disease.

Now, every man on that Committee was nearly tired out at night and took
a vacation the next day, but the President must go right on the same
thing the next day, only worse, for every Town was trying to outdo the
other. It’s not only a hardship on the People you are entertaining but
hard on everybody participating.

One Town will have a Flag composed of 5 thousand children, assembled
and standing in the Hot sun for hours, not only spoiling their whole
day but subjecting them to every known contagious disease. The next
Town to be original will get 10 thousand Children to make up their
Flag, and Make Their Parade 10 Miles as the Last One Only Paraded 5,
even if they have to exhaust their Guest to do it.

Then, of course, he is always asked to speak out in the open. They have
60 acre Fields and put seats around them and call ’em Stadiums, and
expect a man to talk in them. Anyone who has ever spoken outdoors knows
what outdoor speaking does to your voice. The Town with the cheapest
land and most Concrete can have the largest Stadium.

I have always claimed that Parades should be classed as a Nuisance
and participants should be subject to a term in prison. They stop
more work, inconvenience more People, stop more traffic, cause more
accidents, entail more expense, and commit and cause I don’t remember
the other hundred misdemeanors. And what good are they? Half of them
going along you don’t know who they are, or what they are for. Even the
People in them hate ’em. The most popular joke I had after the War in
New York when the Boys were coming back and parading every day was, “If
we really wanted to honor our Boys, why didn’t we let them sit on the
reviewing stands and make the people march those 15 miles?” They didn’t
want to parade, they wanted to go home and rest. But they wouldn’t
discharge a Soldier as long as they could find a new Street in a Town
that he hadn’t marched down, yet.

Of course, keep Circus Parades, for they really give enjoyment not only
to kids but us old ones, too. As a remedy for this parading I would
suggest that each Town set aside one Street, away out where there is
nothing to interfere and give them that as Parade Street; then when
some fellow or gang wants to try out a new Uniform or honor somebody,
why let them parade up and down there just as long as they want to. If
you think Parading is popular just see how many would go over there to
see it. Parades nowadays think they are drawing a crowd when it’s only
people trying to get across the street to their business, not to see
you Parade at all. So just set them aside a Street--that will stop it.
The minute a Parader sees that no one is watching him he will stop and
in that way you will eliminate all Parades.

I was on the Reception Committee of the Movie Industry that was to
have met the President here in Los Angeles. Well, just as an example
of what I said about the others, they decided that it might be showing
partiality if they took him to any one Studio, so they decided to take
him to all of them. In that way they could take up his entire time.
Now, no one knew whether he wanted to go to any of them or not; we
were deciding for him. Can you imagine being a Guest of the City of
Carnegie, Pa., and the Committee showing you through all the Steel
mills in Town?

Now, President Harding was quite an admirer of the Movies so I imagine
he liked sausage, too. But Chicago didn’t rush him off to the Packing
Houses the minute he got there, to see it made.

According to his itinerary here, he was allowed 15 minutes to call
on an Aunt whom he hadn’t seen in years that lived here. That was to
be his only relaxation while here. We were waiting to see how long
Frisco’s Parade would run so we could run ours longer.

Now, as just an example of the trip, he loved Golf (and as the later
sad events have proven) it was good for him; it was the very Recreation
needed. But do you think these Committees let him do it? No Sir, he
only got out three times on the entire trip. I offered a suggestion
here when they were making the arrangements, but like everything coming
from a Comedian it was considered not practical. I wanted to let the
Reception Committee go ahead and rent the Suits and be at the Station
looking Funny just like these others he was used to day after day,
but instead of dragging him off where he didn’t know where he was
going, why just say, “Mr. President, we have engaged a room at the
Central Hotel. Here’s a Ford Car at your disposal. Here’s a Card to
any Golf Course in our Town. Now we know you are tired, so you just
make yourself at home these few days; do just as you please, we have no
plans for you at all.”

Well, my plan wasn’t adopted; it was too late. But if it had been even
partly tried in all the Towns on this trip we would have all been happy
and had him with us today. The first Town that ever does do that with
their visiting Guests and treat them as if Human, they will soon be
wondering where all their popularity comes from.

You may have read in the Papers last year that the Diplomatic Relations
were strained between President Harding and some of my Jokes on the
Administration. Now, I want to say that nothing was farther from
the truth. That was simply newspaper stuff. It was reported that he
couldn’t stand Jokes about the Administration. Why, he had a great
sense of Humor and could stand all the jokes ever told about him or his
Policies. The first time I met him Will Hays introduced me to him in
the White House and he repeated to me a lot of jokes that I had told
away before.

And I told him then: “Now Mr. Harding, I don’t want you to think I
am hard on you--all. You know I told some pretty hard ones on the
Democrats when they were in; in fact I think I told funnier ones on
the Democrats, as they were doing funnier things.” I explained to him
that it would not be fair to the Democrats to kid them while they were
down, but the minute they get their head above Water again I will take
a whack at them.

I met Will Hays just before I left New York in June and he said,
“Will, I had lunch with the President last week and he had me tell him
all your new stuff on the Administration.”

No, I don’t think I ever hurt any man’s feelings by my little gags. I
know I never wilfully did it. When I have to do that to make a living I
will quit. I may not have always said just what they would have liked
me to say but they knew it was meant in good nature.

I never go to Detroit that I don’t spend an entire day out with Henry
Ford and I don’t suppose there is a man living (barring the owners)
that have told any more jokes on him than I have.

I liked President Harding. You see I had met him, and I don’t believe
any man could meet him and talk to him and not like him. Why, I said
after first meeting him, “I thought I would be scared when they took me
in but he made me feel just like talking to some good old prosperous
Ranchman out home.” That’s why I can understand him wanting to meet
as many people personally as possible, for to meet him meant another
friend.

I only hope our Future Presidents can be gifted with his Sense of Humor
and Justice.

He was a mighty good friend to us Theatrical People; he was a good
friend to ALL kinds of People.

For he had the right dope after all. Everybody is JUST FOLKS.

HE WAS A REAL HONEST-TO-GOD-MAN.




WHAT WITH FRUIT JUICE AND CONSOMME, IT WAS A WILD PARTY

[Illustration: IF MR. FORD HAD BEEN ELECTED WE WOULD HAVE BEEN THE
MOUTHPIECE OF THE ADMINISTRATION.]




WHAT WITH FRUIT JUICE AND CONSOMME, IT WAS A WILD PARTY


The _Illiterate Digest_ is a weekly publication, devoted to straight
reading matter. We have no picture section and I doubt if we will
appeal to over 1%, of the Public as the success of a Publication is
based nowadays on the amount of Pictures and Advertising that they have
in them. Of course, all our news comes by Radio. But The Digest is a
tried and operating Paper. In fact we are old timers in the field. This
is our 4th issue and we have just bought out and combined The Weekly
Blowout, a paper that was sponsoring Mr. Ford’s Detour to the White
House. After his famous announcement that 90 per cent of the People in
this Country were satisfied, why, The Blowout couldn’t withstand such
untruth. Had Mr. Ford gone through and been elected why The Blowout
would have become the mouthpiece of the Administration. So, while not
crowing over the misfortune of a Competitor, we were able to procure
the Title of said Paper as soon as it had lost the chances of getting
our Government run as Mr. Ford would have run it on a “Tighten a Bolt
as it Goes By” system. Now The Digest and Blowout combined, is looking
for some other likely Candidate to boost. We have even got down to such
sore straits that a Populist would not be overlooked.

The Digest has some real inside Hollywood dirt to dish up to you. For
fear some competitor will get in and publish it first I will tell
just what happened at a Wild Party that was given tonight at the home
of the Editor of this very Gem of Truth. And what makes it worse the
head of our Industry that was hired and supposed to keep the Scandal
from our doorsteps, was the main Guest, Will Hays (the only man in the
history of Industry that was ever hired for a job without him or the
People that hired him knowing what he was hired for, yet still made so
good they couldn’t replace him). Will Hays, the man who made Harding
President, and the Movies (partly) behave.

Well my Wife and I, aided and encouraged by Daughter Mary decided to
put on a Wild Party. Hollywood had been getting all the Publicity and
selling all the Real Estate through their Scandal, and here was Beverly
Hills who could put it on just as Wild as they could, and we couldn’t
seem to get anywhere. So we looked around to find some Guest that
would be well enough known, so that when we carried him home he would
be recognized.

We thought of Will Hays. So about 6.30 P. M. who should come staggering
in from across the street from the Hotel but our Guest. His brother
was to have come with him, but the Brother is a Lawyer from Sullivan,
Indiana, and not having had the experience and capacity of Will he had
gone completely out earlier in the evening while being entertained by
The Womans’ Federation of Churches.

Well, Will was so loaded that he had on a dress suit. It was the first
one that had ever been in our House, so Bill Jr. and Jim, who had just
come in from Public School and refilled their Flasks commenced to laugh
at the Suit, and we put a sheet over the Chairs so that he wouldn’t get
it dirty.

But by this time he was feeling so good he didn’t care anyway, for the
Industry had bought it for him--and about this time another Guest who
lives right near fell into the door before we knew it. That was Miss
Pauline Frederick.

She was all primed for a real old prolonged Rough House. She had
brought the stuff along with her. She had under her arm a big bag
of knitting. She was knitting a Blanket for one of my Polo Ponies.
So we all staggered around there till one of the children thought of
introducing Miss Frederick and Will.

Then, to make the Party real devilish I was to go and get another man’s
wife while he was away at work. She lived next door, so I sneaked out
while my Wife wasn’t looking and dashed right into the home of the
young Mrs. Cornelius Vanderbilt Jrs. She slipped on something and we
both complimented each other on account of her Husband having to be at
the office getting out his Newspaper. She asked if the Party was to
be so wild that she should take her Gun. I said, “Sure, let’s do it
right.” So we blew back just as they are ready to get real wild and
start eating.

By this time Jim and Bill are becoming reconciled to Hays’ suit and
start playing Baseball in the House. Hollywood can’t put on anything
wilder than that. Hays by this time is feeling so good he is telling a
story complimenting a Democrat.

We all start off with a Fruit Cocktail and everybody commenced to
loosen up and tell their right Salaries. Then comes some Consomme and
I can tell you this old mixing of drinks is getting in its work.
Daughter Mary started doing a Wild dance in the Living Room until Jim
laid her out with a Baseball Bat. Then Hays got to telling what his Boy
could do, and the party just went from one Debauch into another.

Will told us of his trip to England with Ambassador Harvey. He said he
went for pleasure, and I tried to get him to really tell what he went
for. I think it was to get the Prince of Wales to come out for Coolidge.

Between drinks of Broiled Chicken I tried to find out if he was going
to be the Campaign Manager for Mr. Coolidge. But he seemed to think it
was such a sure fire thing, that they would waste some less expensive
man. I kinder sobered up for a minute and asked him what he thought
they would do in this investigation into the Tea Pot Dome Oil Lease. He
said he didn’t think they could show where Sinclair ever gave Sectry
Fall anything. He knew Sinclair was too smooth a giver for that.

I asked him what he thinks of us sending Warships to Mexico. So he
tells me what a hard time they had getting down there. Washington wired
to the nearest one to go down and it runs on the rocks before they got
through reading the telegram. You know our Navigators now depend on
Radio to tell them where they are.

The Navy hasn’t had a Compass in three years. They start on a trip and
the radio operator tunes in and gets Paul Whiteman’s Orchestra playing
somewhere, and when he comes to he is in a lifeboat. Bedtime stories
have put 9 ships to sleep.

Then I asked him who we were going to protect down there, he said, why
the Oil Men. I asked him who protects the Mexican Sheep Herder in this
Country if somebody interferes with his Industry, and if Mexico had a
Navy could she send it up here to protect him. He said No. So the moral
of this is, Be an Oil Man not a Sheep Herder, and be sure to be born in
a Country that has a Navy.

By this time we are all so full we have to leave the table, and the
noise of moving chairs is something deafening.

It’s now eight thirty and the neighbors can see the light in our house
and begin to phone in about it to the Police. Miss Fredericks’ Yarn
runs out, and she begins to yawn. Jim, Mary and Bill being younger and
less unaccustomed to the revelry, had to be literally carried to their
beds. Scandal was running rampant, while my wife was getting them off.
That left Bill and I with the two Women. I says, “What will we do,
Bill,” and he says, “Oh, I am in for anything.” So I just up and said,
“Let’s go down to the barn and look at the Horses.” So out we staggered
at 9 o’clock in the night in the heart of Beverly Hills. Bill Hays, a
man that is a leader in the Presbyterian Church--but it only shows you
when this old Movie Spirit gets in you, you will do anything.

I lasso four or five horses and bring them out and show them to Bill,
but he is all excited talking to the Ladies. They wanted to take a
ride, but I didn’t want to carry this thing too far. So we go back to
the house and I finally get them into their Coats and Hats and walk
them home.

My Wife and I we figure the walk will do them good. So when we come
back and get in the house why it’s actually 9:15.

So I hope by the aid of Bill to put old Beverley Hills on the map as a
Wild Town. Bill says to me, “Will, if the Woman’s Club ever finds this
out they will stop your pictures”. I says “That’s a good joke on the
Woman’s Club, my Pictures have never started.”

I know all the papers will have this so I just want to beat them to it.





WHAT WE NEED IS MORE FRED STONES

[Illustration: HE STARTED AT FOUR OR FIVE YEARS OF AGE AND HAS WORKED
ON NEW STUNTS EVERY DAY OF HIS LIFE.]




WHAT WE NEED IS MORE FRED STONES


Now I am not going to tell you any jokes today as jokes are not good
for you to read every day. You will have to look to the Washington
dispatches from Congress for your humor.

A Comedian is not supposed to be serious nor to know much. As long as
he is silly enough to get laughs, why, people let it go at that. But
I claim you have to have a serious streak in you or you can’t see the
funny side in the other fellow. Last Sunday night a Young Girl who had
made a big hit in the Salvation Army preaching on the Street in New
York, decided to go out and give religious Lectures of her own. So on
her first appearance I was asked by her to introduce her. She said she
would rather have me than a Preacher, or a Politician, or any one else.
Well, I could understand being picked in preference to a Politician, as
that is one Class us Comedians have it on for public respect, but to be
chosen in preference to a Preacher was something new and novel.

The meeting was held in a Theatre, as you have to fool some New
Yorkers to get them in to hear a Sermon. Well, it took no great stretch
of imagination to say something good for the Salvation Army, which,
by the way, lots of People think was made by the late war. Why, the
Salvation Army was just as great 10 years ago as it is today--not so
big, but just as great. Ask any down-and-out fellow and he will tell
you he knew of the good of the Salvation Army long before he ever heard
there was a Kaiser.

Well, it seems like a Coincidence that, as I was trying to say
something in a serious way for the first time before a New York
Audience, why, away out in Butte, Montana, the best friend I have was
going up to a Minister with a Bible in his hand and asking him if he
didn’t think “the Lord would recognize a Comedian.”

So that is why you will get this Story and no jokes today.

Now a great many people, knowing my regard and friendship for Fred
Stone, asked me if I was surprised. No, I was not. It was the shortest
jump, from his life to a religious one, that any man ever made.

But it was a BIG thing to do, and I am certainly pleased that he did
it, for it will have a tremendous influence for good, not only on the
people of our profession but on every one who reads about it. When you
consider that the biggest and highest salaried and busiest Man we have
in our profession can stop and give some of his time to religion, it is
a lesson to the rest of us. Now, it has been my good fortune to have
been very close friends with Fred for years. I have lived in his home
and spend all my spare time there while playing in New York. We Rope
and Ride and play together all the time. He has two wonderful homes on
Long Island, one all fixed up like a Western Ranch with lots of Horses
and a Polo field of his own on his place.

Then I am asked why he did this do I suppose. He did it because from
childhood he had been raised up by the Dearest old Mother and Father
you ever saw. That Christian teaching which she put into his head as
a little Kid, when he started out doing a Tight Rope walking act in a
little Circus, is just coming out. He was brought up to do right and
never knew anything else. Just to watch him with his Mother and Father
today you will understand he didn’t have to go far to see a Preacher.

Then he has the most ideal home life. His every thought is for his
Family. His Wife is of the profession, and I have often heard my Wife
say that Mrs. Stone is the most wonderful and devoted Mother she ever
saw (and Women have a way of knowing those things).

And three lovely Daughters, the oldest, Dorothy, 18, who is with him in
his show and is as talented as her Father and Mother. And so are the
others. All are being trained for a Stage career. So you see he don’t
think so bad of the Stage.

He is the best loved Actor on the Stage today. He plays to the highest
type audience of any Musical Show. He is the only Musical comedy
comedian that has Matinees packed with Children, for none of our other
Musical Comedy Comedians has ever been able to please the Children and
the grown ups too. He is as great a Pantomimist on the stage as Chaplin
is on the screen.

Now, people must not get the idea that this is a remote case in our
Business. It is, of course, on account of the prominence of the man
that we have heard so much of it, and if he had known that it would be
broadcasted in this way it would have been the only thing to make him
hesitate. No one can say that Fred Stone was ever a publicity seeker.
He is too sincere in all he does for that. I think if all Churches in
communities where Theatrical people live were canvassed you would find
there are as many of them in attendance as any other line of people.
And when you come to Charity and trying to help some one who is in
need, you will find them, not only holding their own, but far in the
lead of any other class.

This could not have come at a more opportune time as Preachers all over
are telling us that there is a gradual weaning away from the Church. If
this will only make people think just for a little it will have done
worlds of good.

I have sometimes wondered if the Preachers themselves have not
something to do with this. You hear or read a sermon nowadays and the
biggest part of it is taken up by knocking or trying to prove the
falseness of some other denomination. They say that the Catholics are
Damned, that the Jews’ religion is all wrong, or that the Christian
Scientists are a fake, or that the Protestants are all out of step.

Now just suppose, for a change, they preached to you about the Lord and
not about the other fellow’s Church, for every man’s religion is good.
There is none of it bad. We are all trying to arrive at the same place
according to our own conscience and teachings. It don’t matter which
Road you take.

Suppose you heard a Preacher say, “I don’t care if you join my Church
or the other fellow’s across the street. I don’t claim mine to be
better or worse than any other. But get with somebody and try and do
better.” Hunt out and talk about the good that is in the other fellow’s
Church, not the bad, and you will do away with all this religious
hatred you hear so much of nowadays. Then you will not only have one
Fred Stone but Millions of them.

Besides, it’s not that we need more people just to join Churches. It’s
that we need more Fred Stones, either in or out of a Church. For this
Man’s life is an object lesson to every Young Man or Boy starting out
on a career in any line of business. Sincerity put him where he is. He
never faked. No man his age in America has worked harder and been more
conscientious.

Another coincidence that happened applies directly to this case. I was
called on to testify in Court if I thought a certain Team of Popular
performers were UNIQUE AND EXTRAORDINARY. The whole case was based on
those two words. Now those two words mean a terrible lot. They mean
you must do something that no one else can do. So, regardless of the
popularity of the two performers and with all due regard for all that
others can do, I said they were not.

And I claim that the only one I know of in our entire profession who I
could rightly claim was unique and Extraordinary is this man that went
into a store and asked for a Bible. Went out and studied it according
to his best knowledge. (Which, by the way, is not so much as Book
learning goes. As Fred and I have figured up once. He got as far as the
fourth reader while I only reached the third. So that is why I think we
always hit it off together so well, neither was liable to use a word
which the other couldn’t understand.)

Fred Stone can do more things and do them well than any man in or out
of the Show Business or the Movies.

Why can he?

He is 49 years old and has spent 45 years practicing. Now, we have not
another man in America that has done that. He started at 4 or 5 years
of age and has worked on new stunts every day of his life and still
does. He always wanted to have something new for the people every year.
We have performers that have specialized on one thing that are great,
but not a one that can do the variety of things that he can. And the
wonderful part is it is clean wholesome entertainment that you are glad
to have your children see. So the clean does pay after all in any line
of business.

He was the originator of the present style of eccentric Dancing on the
Stage. In his dances he dances not only with his feet but also his Body
and face show you what he is trying to convey. The greatest compliment
I ever heard paid a dancer was said about him by another great dancer,
“Why Fred Stone can dance in a Barrel where you can’t see his feet and
still be a greater dancer to look at than the rest of them out of one.”

A corking good all-around Acrobat. He practiced for years just to get a
perfect One Hand Stand and never used it--just wanted to learn it. He
is one of the best Actor Ball Players. Boxed for years with Corbett,
who has always said that Fred could have been Champion at his weight.

Here’s a little tip for you, too. He can lick more men single handed,
if they start something with him, than can any Hero in the Movies
where they are trained to fall.

[Illustration: IF A RIDER HIT ON HIS HEAD, IT WAS ME.]

He took up Fancy Rope throwing after he was 37 years old and today
there are not a half dozen Boys in this Country that can do more
tricks than he can. He learned in 12 years what it’s taken me 40 to
learn. Hired Rinks to stay open after their seasons closed and paid
Instructors for three years to perfect him in fancy Ice Skating. He
learned Bareback Riding for a Circus Act, and every kind of Wild West
trick riding. Bucking Horses he learned to ride after he was 43, just
when at that age most Riders are quitting. He Bull Dogged a Steer at
Cheyenne and had never done it before in his life. Now that takes
nerve. I wouldn’t jump off a horse on a steer even if he promised to
lay down. He is a good Polo Player; we had a team composed of the late
Vernon Castle, who, by the way was a good Horseman and a nervy fellow,
Leo Corrello, Fred and Myself. Well, in our Clown games we all took it
as a joke, but Fred took it serious. He wanted to know the thing from
every angle.

Now to me I didn’t care whether I hit the Ball or not. I knew it would
be laying there when I come back. But not so with Fred. Well, there
was a lot of falls and spills. The audience who watched us play every
Sunday got to learn that in a spill if the falling Rider hit on his
feet it was Fred Stone. If he hit on his head it was me. We would both
be equally safe.

He is one of the best shots in the Country, has practiced for years
with Annie Oakley, the Greatest shot this Country ever saw. He hunted
big Game with his Brother-in-Law, Rex Beach, in Alaska. Went to
Greenland to Lassoo, not shoot, Polar Bears, hunted Mountain Lions in
Arizona, and Bears wherever he could hear of one.

Now that he has taken up religion and the Bible, he wont have to ask a
Preacher to advise him long. Preachers will be coming to him, for he
don’t half do anything. So when he comes back, and Sunday comes, and I
go down to Rope and Ride and play, if he wants to knock off and go to
Church I don’t think I will mind, and if they will let ME in, I may go
too.




ONE OIL LAWYER PER BARREL

[Illustration: IT’S A BIGGER THING FOR WASHINGTON THAN THE SHRINER’S
CONVENTION.]




ONE OIL LAWYER PER BARREL


The _Illiterate Digest_ has devoted its life work to ferreting out the
Persons and things in our National affairs which are not just exactly
up to snuff. Now I see where the Senate Investigating Committee has
called a recess for 10 days. Scandals were unfolding themselves so
fast that the Committee couldn’t get one Bribe straight in their minds
before another one would bob up. So they retired to kinder see where
they were at.

Now, while that committee may be resting, the _Illiterate Digest_ never
rests; we are on the heels of the evildoer 24 hours of every bribing
day. I hope by the time this reaches an eager waiting Public that they
will have found two Lawyers to conduct this Oil investigation. Just
think, America has one hundred and ten million population, 90 percent
of which are Lawyers, yet we can’t find two of them who have not worked
at some time or another for an Oil company. There has been at least one
lawyer engaged for every barrel of Oil that ever come out of the ground.

You might wonder if they pay so much to Lawyers how do they ever make
anything out of the Oil? Foolish question. They don’t make anything out
of the Oil. They only make money out of the stock they sell. You buy a
share of oil stock and for every dollar you pay, 60 percent goes for
Lawyers’ fees, 30 percent to over Capitalization, and 10 percent goes
to the boring of a Dry Hole.

If a Company just put down Wells for Oil, and then sold the oil
legitimately, they would have no use at all for Lawyers. But Oil Men
engage their Lawyers nowadays even before they have leased the land or
know where they are going to prospect. For the lawyer has to make the
lease. It’s not like any other business where the owner and the man
who is going to lease can meet and do business. Oh no, Lawyers must do
that. Then, if they happen to be leasing from the Government, why they
not only have to be Lawyers but have to be Political Lawyers.

Now, I bet a lot of you thought after the Company had got the land
leased, that the next thing to do was to hire a Driller to put the Well
down. But you are wrong again. You go out and get another Lawyer. You
have to have another Lawyer to draw up the contract with the driller.

[Illustration: THEY NOT ONLY HAVE TO BE LAWYERS, BUT POLITICAL
LAWYERS.]

Then I bet that you think the next step is to wait until you see
whether you have Oil or not. Say, don’t make me laugh out loud again.
You don’t wait for anything of the kind: you engage another Lawyer to
draw up some pretty Oil Stock Paper with nice flowered edges. Looks
like a marriage license--only worse. Then you start selling the stock,
claiming that the BoHunk Oil Company are putting down a Well on Smith
29, North East 40 of South West 80. Then if they do strike something,
they shut it up and claim it was a Duster.

Then they get another Local Lawyer who knows everybody around that
neck of the Woods, to go out and buy up or lease all the adjoining
land. Then, when they get it all leased, they go back and pick the
stopper out of this. Well, double the Capitalization of Stock under
the direction of still another Lawyer, and then they are in a position
to hire more Lawyers to investigate getting a Lease from Persia, or
Jugo-Slavia. This just kinder gives you a rough idea of what all these
Lawyers do and why we can’t get any to help prosecute this Oil Scream.

The _Illiterate Digest_ will have to take Editorial attention of the
resignation of Sectry Denby. Mr. Denby was requested by the Senate
to resign. Now that in itself is a mighty good Omen that he is an
unusually able man. Of course, where I think he got in bad was in
saying, if he had the same thing to do over again he would do it. It is
always bad for any one on trial to say he would do the same thing over
again. American People like to have you repent; then they are generous.

But you see lots of times a man gets in wrong just by an ill timed
remark. Look at Mr. Doheny’s reported remark that he would “make 100
million out of the Elk Hills lease.” That will go down in History as
the highest priced Gag ever pulled. That’s why Mr. Coolidge never gets
in bad. If a man will just stay hushed he is hard to find out.

Personally and Editorially, I don’t think Mr. Denby is guilty at all
of any wrong-doing that he knew of. But somebody has got to go in
this thing, and before it’s all over you are mighty apt to find a few
innocent along with all the guilty strewn along by the Pipe Line.

By the way, sometime this Country, just by accident, is going to get
some man Sectry of the Navy who has at least received a Picture Post
Card of Annapolis, sometime during his career. Josephus Daniels
had never been in anything bigger than a Row Boat up to the time he
was made Sectry of the Navy. The first Battleship he got on he kept
looking for the Paddle Wheels on the side that made it go. He found
the Officers in those days had Cocktail and Cordial Glasses with
their Table wear. He made them throw them all overboard. He thought
they would sink the Ship. What he lacked in seamanship, he made up in
morality.

Then came Mr. Denby who had received his Maritime Education by looking
at the Detroit River (which is so thick with Booze Boats that you can’t
see the Water) naturally his Aquatic viewpoint is rather warped.

I guess Young Theodore Roosevelt comes nearer being an Old Salt than
anyone connected with our Ex Oil Owners (The Navy). He did live in
Oyster Bay overlooking Long Island Sound, and had to look at the Joy
Line cruising, 1$ daily, to Providence. Then he had to Subway under the
East River to get to New York. So I guess he is the only Sectry we have
that knows just by looking at one, which end of a Battleship is the
front.

Judging by the previous experience of some of our sectrys, of various
things in our Cabinets, it has always been a source of great anxiety
to me just why a Vetenerian has never been appointed either Sectry of
War or PostMaster General.

Now by the time this reaches our Scandal loving Public I don’t know
who will be left in Washington. The chances are, when I visit the old
stamping ground again, I will have to make entirely new acquaintances.
But I will always have the feeling, “Well the old Boys were not so bad.
They were just unfortunate in getting caught.”

It certainly looks like a tough year. Politicians are so busy trying
to hold down their own Jobs that they won’t have any time to look out
for anyone else. They will be voting a Bonus to men who lost their
livelihood in the great morality Panic of 1924.

Children in future years will ask their Parents, “Father how much did
you get in the great Year 1924?”

It’s been a fine thing for Washington. The Hotels are crowded. Every
time a Guest registers the Clerk asks him, “I suppose you will be
here until you testify.” It’s a bigger thing for Washington than the
Shriners’ Convention, because it has all of them, besides a lot more.

If they would all tell the truth the first time they testify they
wouldn’t have to testify again like they are doing now, and they would
get the thing over a lot quicker. They ought to pass a rule in this
Country that in any investigations, if a Man couldn’t tell the truth
the first time he shouldn’t be allowed to try again.

Now we have another Scandal in the Veterans’ Bureau. But we are just
in such shape that we can’t take care of but one Scandal at a time. If
any other small affairs come up during the coming season that look like
they might develop into a Scandal I will try to let you know.




ANOTHER HOT CONFESSION IN THE OIL SCANDAL

[Illustration: THEY ARE FROM TULSA. I WILL BE RIGHT OUT.]




ANOTHER HOT CONFESSION IN THE OIL SCANDAL


I wish this Oil Scandal would hurry up and be settled as it is very
hard for one writing on affairs of our Country to tell, in writing of
our Officials, whether to speak of them as Secretary So and So, or
Ex-Secretary So and So. Up to now I claim a very unique distinction. I
am the only Person I know of that has not been mentioned as receiving
something in the nature of a Fee from some Big Corporation. But I
am going to get in early and tell just what I received so when my
name comes up later on people will say: “Well there is a Man who has
accepted Fees but he was honest about them and come to the front and
told it.” As I can’t get to Washington to testify I want to tell
through the Digest, for which I am Scandal Correspondent, just what
happened to me. If I was in Washington I probably couldn’t get to
testify as there is so many ahead of me that it will take years for
just the People who work for the Government to tell who gave them
something.

I know a Man that went to Washington to testify as to money he had
received and there was 29 Cabinet and Ex Cabinet Members in line
ahead of him so he had to just write it and send it in. Now this
whole thing was a strictly Republican affair until Mr. Doheny (who
never lets Politics interfere with his Business) appeared before the
Commission, and when it looked like he was the only Oil be-spattered
sheep in the Democratic Fold, he just kicked over an Oil Can and hiding
behind it were a flock of Democrats that reached almost as far back as
Jefferson’s Administration.

Personally I am glad that he did unearth members of both Parties for if
this thing had gone through showing no one but Republicans, it would
have cast a reflection on the shrewdness of the Democratic Party. In
other words they would have looked rather dumb to be standing around
with all these Oily Shekels falling all around them and not opening
their Pockets to catch a few. For the American people are a very
generous people and will forgive almost any weakness, with the possible
exception of stupidity.

But to get back to my confession for I want to be set right before the
people by the time we meet in Madison Square Garden in June to select
the worst man. Mine starts out like a Fairy Story.

Once upon a time, I had just gone to work for Florenz Ziegfeld, Jr.,
and was playing in what was called Ziegfeld’s Midnight Frolic, on the
Roof of the Amsterdam Theatre, New York. Prohibition and my Jokes were
equally responsible in closing the place up. Now my home is (as I think
I mentioned before) Claremore, Oklahoma, (The home of the best Curative
Waters in the World) and, by the way, one of the best towns in the
World to live in if any of you are thinking about making a change.

Well, after I had finished my little 15 minutes of annoyance in the
Frolic one night, one of the Waiters (for instead of having Ushers to
hand you a Programme, they had Waiters to hand you a drink, and I tell
you, you can’t beat some of the old customs). Well this well tipped
Waiter come to my dressing room, which I used to hang my ropes in,
and said, “There is a Party of folks out front at one of the Tables
from Oklahoma, and they want you to come out and see them.” I asked
what place in Oklahoma did they come from, and he said, “I don’t know
but they certainly got the Dough; they have ordered everything in the
place but the Kitchen Stove.” I said, “They are from Tulsa. I will be
right out.”

Well I hid what few dollars I had down in my Sock, and went out to
see them. It was Mr. Harry Sinclair. I had never heard of him before,
for he hadn’t bought Zev or the Teapot Dome up to then. But we soon
felt like we knew each other, on account of him being from Tulsa (a
Residential Suburb of Claremore where we park our millionaires to keep
them from getting under our feet). He knew my Father who had been a
member of the Constitutional Convention, which drafted the Charter of
Oklahoma.

Well, this Mr. Sinclair was an awful nice fellow. We hit it off pretty
good. We kinder consoled each other, on account of being so far from
home, and trying to eke out an existence from these shrewd New Yorkers.
He took a fatherly interest in me, and asked, “Now, Will, you are
working here but what are you doing with your money?” So I told him
just what I was doing with it, that the last three months’ wages had
gone to paying a Doctor and a Nurse, for assisting us in accumulating
another Baby, and that the three months previous to that my wages had
gone to making the first payment on a second hand Overland car, and
that the year still previous to that I had bought a Baby Buggy and a
Victrola.

Well, he seemed mighty pleased that I was putting my money into such
staple commodities. So I asked him what he was doing with his. He said,
“I struck Oil, but Oil is no good unless its Capitalized.”

Well, that was news to me. I thought you could just sell the Oil
itself. But I learned that you can get twice as much for the Capital as
you can for the Oil.

So then he asked me the names of my Private Herd. I told him I had gone
to a great deal of trouble and thought in naming them and after months
of research among pretty and odd names of Novels and Poems, I had
decided to name the Children, Bill, Mary and Jim.

Well, he had never heard of anything more original. The names I thought
struck him very odd, as he wrote all three of them down on the back of
an Envelope. So I left the Table as I didn’t want to be there when the
Waiter presented his check. For I had seen several Casualties from this
same cause.

I never thought much more about it. I went home and told my Wife about
meeting him, and what do you think happened! In a couple of days here
comes three official letters addressed to Bill, Mary and Jim, and they
had enclosed a Share each of Sinclair Oil Stock _free_. Well we thought
that was a mighty fine thing for him to do to be so thoughtful of our
little Tribe. I accepted it in as good faith as McAdoo did his Fee.

I don’t know if the Senate investigating Committee will get around
to them soon or not. Of course they will have to get through before
Election for the whole thing will be a total loss after election. All
I have to say is that the Children were Private Citizens and did not
promise to use any influence in any way. Of course, I, as the Father
and Guardian of the Children, will be apt to come in for considerable
criticism, and I may go so far as to lose any chance I may have as
being named as a Presidential possibility.

Now I hate this for the Children’s sake that all this must come out
for it is liable to put a stigma on their names that they will be two
Campaigns living down. One thing, of course, will be in their favor
when it all does come out and that is that it was sent openly through
the mails. It was not delivered in a Suit Case.

They have had these shares for years and have also received at various
times a Dollar or so Interest on said Stock. When this Expose came out
Bill and Mary were for resigning and sending in their Stock, so they
could show that they were not connected with the Corporation, but Jim,
the youngest, who has a touch of Republicanism in him, why, he said,
“No, let’s stick until they throw us out. Let them prove we took these
Stocks for some other reason than Charity!”

What makes it look bad is, that my Wife wrote a note and thanked him.
But the children did not sign the Note. So when he is called upon
to testify he will have her Note but it won’t have the Children’s
Signature on it. Of course he can say it was tore off, or that his Wife
has that part of it, or some other equally good reason. But I want the
Public to be lenient with both him and the Children, for as past events
have proven they haven’t done a thing for him to warrant them getting
those Stocks. So I honestly believe he meant no harm when he gave them.

As for Mr. Doheny giving me or mine anything, we live right near him
here in Beverly Hills. His son did promise me a key, so I wouldn’t have
to ride clear around his Estate when out horseback riding, but I never
got it yet.




THE WHOLE TRUTH AND NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH

[Illustration: I OBJECT TO THE SENATOR FROM MASSACHUSETTS’ SLURRING
REMARKS.]




Comedy Drama

Entitled

THE WHOLE TRUTH AND NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH


 PLACE--Washington, D. C.

 TIME--From 1924 to 1930.

 SCENE--One of the 40 Investigating Rooms of the U. S. Senate.

 CAST OF CHARACTERS--Everybody that ever worked for, or just Worked the
 United States.

 HERO--Senator Walsh, assisted by Lenroot and accomplices.

 VILLAINS--Entire list of Who’s Who in America.


_The Scene opens on a greasy Monday morning with_ JOHN F. MAJOR _being
quizzed by_ SENATOR WALSH.

                               SENATOR WALSH

Do you work for a Man that runs a Newspaper?

                               MR. MAJOR

I draw a salary from him.

                               SENATOR WALSH

What right have you to send Telegrams to a Man in Palm Beach if you are
only working for him?

                               MR. MAJOR

I couldn’t get him on the Telephone.

                               SENATOR WALSH

What did you tell him in your Telegrams?

                               MR. MAJOR

What was going on in Washington.

                               SENATOR WALSH

What did he tell you in his Telegrams to you?

                               MR. MAJOR

What was going on in Palm Beach.

                               SENATOR WALSH

What was going on at the time in Washington?

                               MR. MAJOR

Why the Senate Committee was investigating somebody.

                               SENATOR WALSH

Who were they investigating?

                               MR. MAJOR

They didn’t know themselves.

                               SENATOR WALSH

What did he say was going on in Palm Beach?

                               MR. MAJOR

I am ashamed to tell you.

                               SENATOR WALSH

Who were these Telegrams from in Palm Beach?

                               MR. MAJOR

I can’t remember.

                               SENATOR WALSH

Did you lease a Wire from Palm Beach to Washington?

                               MR. MAJOR

I can’t remember.

                               SENATOR WALSH

Why did you lease the Wire?

                               MR. MAJOR

So we could say we had a Wire to Palm Beach. It was good advertising.

                               SENATOR WALSH

Who operated this wire?

                               MR. MAJOR

A Telegraph Operator.

                               SENATOR WALSH

What was his name?

                               MR. MAJOR

I think it was Jones, or Smith; maybe it was Brown.

                               SENATOR WALSH

Who operated the wire from Palm Beach?

                               MR. MAJOR

Johnny.

                               SENATOR WALSH

Johnny who?

                               MR. MAJOR

Johnny Johnnnny.

                               SENATOR WALSH

Did the operator on this end work at the White House also?

                               MR. MAJOR

Yes he was the Waiter there.

                               SENATOR WALSH

Did he work there during the Republican or Democratic Administration?

                               SENATOR LODGE

Mr. Committee, I object to that question. This is not a Partisan
affair; I refuse to have the honor and the glory of the Great
Republican Party dragged into a thing where up to now their fair name
has never been.

                               SENATOR CARAWAY

Mr. Committee, I object to the Senator from Massachusetts’ slurring
remarks of the Democratic Party; a Party which has housed such
illustrious names as Jefferson, Cleveland, Akron, Youngstown, Bryan,
McAdoo, and sometimes Jim Reed.

                               MR. MAJOR

Senator Walsh have you got a Cigarette on you?

                               SENATOR WALSH

No I just got some cubebs here.

                               MR. MAJOR

Never mind I will go across the Street and get some. See you next time
I am called.

                               SENATOR WALSH

Gentlemen, I think the Committee should retire for a week to consider
the Testimony of the Gentleman who has just testified.

                               SENATOR LENROOT

But Mr. Chairman, Mr. Doheny’s Yacht is waiting to take him on a Cruise
of the Mediterranean, and I don’t think it’s fair to keep him waiting.

                               SENATOR WHEELER

Mr. Chairman, I make a motion, that the Committee make a motion, that
Attorney General Daugherty resign.

                               SENATOR LODGE

Mr. Chairman, I object. His motion is out of order. I had a motion
before the Committee asking the Committee asking the Committee to make
a motion, to ask him to stay. Now, by all the rules of Parliamentary
motion making, mine anti-dates his. And I will stake a Reputation on
it that goes back to the first class Passengers that landed from that
Mother Ship of mine the Mayflower, who have so gloriously populated the
fair state of Massachusetts.

                               SENATOR ROBINSON

Mr. Chairman, I object. The fair state of Arkansas houses one direct
descendant of that Plymouth Rock Expedition. And I protest when the
Gentleman from Massachusetts claims the entire Cargo of that ill-fated
Voyage. Never as long as I represent the majority constituency of my
Glorious state will I stand by and hear the ozone swept Ozarks spoken
of disparagingly, especially by that Moron State of Massachusetts.

                               SENATOR WILLIS

Gentlemen, I don’t think that Mr. Daugherty should be let out without a
trial.

                               SENATOR WHEELER

Why, he has had three year’s trial already. His trial is what’s letting
him out.

                               SENATOR WALSH

Who will we call next?

                               DOORTENDER

Why just get a Census return, and call anybody’s name on it; they are
waiting outside.

                               SENATOR LA FOLLETTE

Why don’t you call somebody unexpectedly, and maybe in their confusion
they will tell the truth accidentally.

                               SENATOR LENROOT

Who said anything about wanting the truth?

                               SENATOR HEFLIN

I want to ask the Committee why they called on Mr. Fall at his hotel in
private.

                               SENATOR WALSH

We wanted to see where he got the hundred thousand. We may retire
ourselves some day.

                               SENATOR HEFLIN

Why didn’t you tell at the time that you went to see him?

                               SENATOR WALSH

Wait a minute, who is running this investigation? Am I supposed to ask
the questions, or to answer them?

                               SENATOR LENROOT

Where is Sinclair?

                               MR. ZEVERLY

                       (whose running name is Zev.)

My Client, Mr. Sinclair has gone to the races and it will be impossible
for him to appear until after the season is over.

                               SENATOR WALSH

Well how about McLane? Can we get him?

                               SENATOR CARAWAY

You can get him by Telegraph, I guess. Everybody else has.

                               SENATOR WALSH

Well, where is Detective William J. Burns? He was supposed to testify
here today.

                               DOORTENDER

Mr. Chairman, I met him on the Street and he couldn’t find the Capitol
Building.

                               SENATOR MOSES

I make a motion that we examine the Income Tax and see what Mr. Doheny
contributed to the Democratic Campaign Fund.

                               SENATOR JIM REED

I object. Senator Moses is a Republican and he is only throwing a smoke
Screen to try and hide his Party behind it. This is not a Partisan
question and I object to politics being dragged into it in any way.
Let’s handle this thing in a dignified way, and don’t let Politics
play any part. As it was the Republicans that did it, I am in favor of
justice being served.

                               DOORTENDER

Mr. Forbes is here and wants to testify.

                               ENTIRE SENATE

“My Lord, Is he in this, too?”

 P. S.--This play to be continued until somebody tells the truth.




WELL, WHO IS PRUNES?

[Illustration: “THERE’S A BELLBOY AT MY HOTEL AND HE JUST GOT IT FROM
THE CHAUFFEUR OF A PROMINENT OIL-MAN.”]




WELL, WHO IS PRUNES?

2nd Episode of the great Dramatic Serial,

THE TRUTH, NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH, SO HELP ME GOD.

 _Same scene as the first Episode--the Third Degree Room of the Grand
 Jury of the United States Senate._ MR. SENATOR WALSH _leading question
 asker of a body of men noted for their inquisitiveness_.

                      DOORTENDER OF THIS TORTURE CHAMBER

Who will we call first today?

                               SENATOR WALSH

Call the Editorial Writer of that newspaper.

                               DOORMAN

But, Mr. Walsh, we just called him yesterday.

                               SENATOR WALSH

I know we did but call him again. A whole lot is happening in this
country between yesterday and today. Now Mr. Bennett who was it that
you referred to as the Principal in those wires to Palm Beach?

                               MR. BENNETT

Why, Senator Curtis.

                               SENATOR HEFLIN

Curses on the Luck. I thought it was Coolidge.

                               SENATOR HARRISON

Wish it had of been Coolidge. It’s no novelty to get a Senator in Wrong.

                               SENATOR WALSH

What did you confer with Curtis about?

                               MR. BENNETT

About the Editorial Policy of our Paper.

                               SENATOR WALSH

Well what does the Editorial Policy of any Paper amount to? You don’t
suppose anybody reads those things do you? Why one Ad is worth more to
a paper than 40 Editorials. That will be all for you Mr. Bennett.

                               SENATOR CARAWAY

Just a minute before you go. Who was Peaches in those Telegrams?

                               MR. BENNETT

I don’t remember.

                               SENATOR ROBINSON

Yes, and who was Prunes? I hope it referred to no Democrat.

                               SENATOR WALSH

Call Mr. Curtis.

                               SENATOR WALSH

Senator Curtis, will you tell the Grand Jury in your own way just what
happened between you and this Editorial Writer of the Washington _Post_.

                               MR. CURTIS

Yes Sir.

                               SENATOR WALSH

What was it?

                               MR. CURTIS

Nothing.

                               SENATOR WALSH

You mean you didn’t confer with this Gentleman?

                               MR. CURTIS

I did not.

                               SENATOR WALSH

But you know him?

                               MR. CURTIS

Never saw him in my life.

                               SENATOR WALSH

But you have heard of him?

                               MR. CURTIS

Never in my life.

                               SENATOR WALSH

But you know of the Washington _Post_?

                               MR. CURTIS

Yes sir, I have heard it.

                               SENATOR WALSH

Heard it? What do you mean you heard it?

                               MR. CURTIS

I have heard Sousa’s Band play it many a time.

                               SENATOR WALSH

Play what?

                               MR. CURTIS

Washington’s Post.

                               SENATOR WALSH

It’s not a tune; it’s a Newspaper. You talk like a Congressman. Where
are you from?

                               MR. CURTIS

Kansas.

                               SENATOR WALSH

That will be all.

                               SENATOR CARAWAY

Just a minute, Mr. Curtis, Who is Peaches?

                               MR. CURTIS

I don’t know unless it’s Jim Reed.

                               SENATOR HEFLIN

Just a minute. I object to the Republican Senator’s slur on the fair
name of the Democratic Party. This Investigation is supposed to be Non
Sectarian, and I object to having Politics dragged in, just to make a
Republican Holiday.

                               SENATOR ROBINSON

And I want to know who Prunes was.

                               MR. CURTIS

You mean you want to know who Prunes IS.

                               SENATOR LENROOT

Mr. Walsh, and Gentlemen of the Vigilance Committee there is a Bell Boy
over at my Hotel and he just got it from the chauffeur of a Prominent
Oil Man, that Major Leonard Wood’s Son had just heard that his Father
was offered the Nomination for the Presidency 3 and a Half years ago,
if he would appoint Mr. Jake Hamon Secretary of the Interior. Now that
is a very serious charge, and one that I think this Committee should
look into at once. Public affairs have come to a fine Climax when a Man
in this Country offers to make another one President. I tell you it is
undermining the confidence of the Great American People and when you do
that you shake the very Bulwarks of the American Constitution. I think
a Subpœna should be issued for Mr. Wood’s Son at once and if this is so
I am for a swift and speedy trial for the Culprits.

                               SENATOR WALSH

I am for calling Mr. Wood himself. There’s one thing that this
Committee has proven that it won’t take, and that is Hear Say Evidence.
So call Mr. Wood himself.

                               MR. MOSES

                  (The Senator one, Not the Apostle One)

But, Mr. Walsh, Mr. Wood is in the Philippines.

                               SENATOR WALSH

I thought he was home. Haven’t they got their Independence yet?

                               MR. MOSES

No, Mr. Coolidge wouldn’t give it to them.

                               SENATOR WALSH

What’s the matter? Have they struck oil, too?

                               MR. MOSES

No, Mr. Coolidge told them that a Nation that would not support Wood’s
Administration certainly would not be able to support one of their own.

                               SENATOR HEFLIN

Well, how did America get Independence? They didn’t support Wood.

                               SENATOR REED

Who said we had any independence?

                               SENATOR LODGE

                          (The Confucius of Nahant)

I object to having the President of these United States’ name dragged
into this thing. I think when a Man occupies the exalted position that
he does that his name should not be degraded by having it mentioned in
The Senate. Now I know that he is doing the best he can. I have known
him ever since he got prominent enough for me to know. In the eight
months that I have known him, I have found him to be patient, honest,
and a Man who would not knowingly rob a single Filipino of his Liberty.
This is simply a Political trick to drag his name into this Philippine
muddle.

                               SENATOR HEFLIN

Yes but he sent the Filipinos the Wire didn’t he! And it’s wires that
we are here to investigate ain’t it?

                               SENATOR HARRISON

Does the exalted Senator from Massachusetts recall that during the
late Democratic Administration, he himself during the talk on European
Affairs mentioned not only once, but twice, the name of the then
President, Mr. Wilson? Now he don’t want us to mention his President.

                               SENATOR HEFLIN

Well it’s funny to me that a Country can’t get their Liberty, when
they have advanced far enough to have the Champion Bantamweight Prize
Fighter of the World. I know Countries that have their Liberty, when
they can’t even produce a good Golf Player and that’s the lowest form
of Civilization.

                               SENATOR CARAWAY

I would like to ask Mr. Lodge if he knows who Peaches is.

                               SENATOR LODGE

I do not. It’s the only subject I ever admitted being ignorant on.

                               SENATOR ROBINSON

Well, I want to know who Prunes IS.

                               SENATOR LODGE

You mean who Prunes AM, don’t you?

                               SENATOR ROBINSON

Darn it; that man is a bear on Grammar.

                               SENATOR WALSH

I think the committee should adjourn until we can get Mr. Wood himself.

                               DOORMAN

Excuse me, Mr. Walsh, but there is a Gentleman out here who wants to
testify in regard to the Doheny and Sinclair leases. What can I tell
him?

                               SENATOR WALSH

Oh, yes, I had forgotten about those. Tell him as soon as we get this
Wood for President affair settled, and Jack Dempsey’s mysterious
sickness, and Babe Ruth’s collapse, that we will be able to get to that
Oil Lease thing again.

                               SENATOR COPELAND

Mr. Walsh, I was in New York last night and I heard Mr. Vanderlip make
a Speech to the Rotary Club of Coney Island, and he said, “I have it
on absolutely reliable authority that George Washington never crossed
the Delaware. That fellow you see in the Picture in the middle of the
Boat was a fellow doubling for him, and if I am called I will be glad
to give this information that I possess to the Senate Investigating
Committee.”

                               SENATOR WALSH

Mr. Secretary, call Mr. Vanderlip at once.

                               MR. LENROOT

Let’s not call him until tomorrow, Mr. Walsh, as he will make another
speech tonight perhaps on what he discovered about Lincoln. So we can
quiz him on both men at once.

                               MR. CARAWAY

Well, before we adjourn, I want to know who Peaches is.

                               MR. ROBINSON

Well, I want to know who Prunes WERE.




POLITICS GETTING READY TO JELL




POLITICS GETTING READY TO JELL


The _Illiterate Digest_, after reviewing the news, finds that Politics
is sure at the point when it is about to jell. My old friend Jim Reed
from the smelly banks of the Kaw River has broke out again. If you have
done anything against the welfare or conventions of the United States,
and everybody has passed their various opinions on you, and you think
you have been roasted to a dark bay, why, until Jim Reed breaks out on
you, you haven’t been called anything.

Well, it was kinder funny Jim was to make a Washington Day speech.
Naturally everyone supposed it to be on George Washington, but it was
the only speech ever made on Washington’s Birthday that didn’t have a
word about Washington. He didn’t even mention his name. I don’t know
that McAdoo, Denby, Daugherty, Doheny, and others will consider it much
Flattery, but it will go down in History as being the only time they
ever replaced Washington.

Reed wouldn’t have been any good making a speech on Washington,
anyway. He would have been expected to compliment him and I doubt if
he could think of anything George had ever done that really was worth
while.

Vanderlip made a speech at the Rotary Club of Ossining, New York, that
astonished the United States. Now that speech didn’t astonish me near
as much as the knowledge that Ossining _had_ a Rotary Club. For the
sake of the unfingerprinted ones, I will state that Ossining is the
Town where Sing Sing is permanently located. Now if Ossining has a
Rotary Club they certainly had to take in some Lay Members from this
Musically named Institution.

But when you come to think of it, just think what a Distinguished
Rotary Club they could have at that. Rotary is composed of one of the
best of each line of work or business. Just think what a competitive
thing it would be trying to find in Ossining the leading Burglar
sojourning with them at the time, or the most representative Pickpocket
to represent them in the Club. And Bankers! Mr. Vanderlip must have
felt right at home up there. There are more Bankers in Ossining than
any Town of its size in the United States.

A two year residence is necessary to be able to join the Rotary. Can
you imagine them questioning members of Sing Sing, “Have you been a
resident of this Town for two years?” and the answer would be, “Yes
Sir, constantly.”

So, as I say, it was not the things Mr. Vanderlip said that attracted
the unusual attention. It was the distinguished audience that he
delivered it to. Just to show you the difference: Appearing before the
Rotary Club of Sing Sing he caused a commotion by his Speech. He took
the same Act down to Washington and nobody would listen to him. It
shows you have to have an intelligent audience. Up in Sing Sing they
got what he was talking about but down in Washington it went right over
their heads.

I know, for last winter while playing in New York I was asked to go
over to a big Charity affair given by the 400 of 5th Avenue. I thought
I had a pretty good line of Gags, as there was quite a lot happening
every day of Public interest. So I go over and start in telling them
what I had read in the Papers and nobody even cracked a smile, much
less laughed. So I just kept on trying remarks on every subject that
had been in the papers since Bryan last got a Hair cut. But it was
about one of the worst Flops I ever encountered, and I have had some
beauts in my time.

Well, of course, I felt terrible about it, so just by a coincidence on
the very next night I had promised to go up to Ossining and do an act
for (at that time it wasn’t called the Rotary Club). I think then they
called it Inmates. There was no show--just me alone went up to add to
the hardships of Prison Life. Well I never knew I had as many friends
in the World. I knew everybody up there. I was twice as much at home as
I had been on 5th Avenue the night before. So now I know why Vanderlip
picked out Ossining for his Annual February Oration.

I started in on those same Jokes on up-to-date things that had flopped
so completely at the Millionaire’s Charity affair. Why, say, they just
started right in dying laughing at them. I was sorry Ziegfeld wasn’t
there, as I would have got a raise in salary if he had heard how my act
went. I don’t care what I talked about they knew all about it.

Ordinarily, I only do about 15 or 20 minutes but up there I did an
Hour and a Quarter. I was so tickled I offered to take all the whole
audience of 12 hundred down to the Follies and pay their way in to
see our Show. Now you know I must feel pretty good with myself, when
I offer to spend my Dough like that. A lot of people would be kinder
sore at the 400 because they didn’t laugh like these 12 hundred did,
but I am not. I don’t blame them. If I had their money I wouldn’t read
either. So I can understand very readily why Vanderlip’s act didn’t go
so big in Washington as it did in Ossining.

Of course Van and I use just the opposite methods in our Stage
performances. Every Gag I tell must be based on truth. No matter how
much I may exaggerate it, it must have a certain amount of Truth.
Vanderlip bases his Gags on Rumor.

Now Rumor travels Faster, but it don’t stay put as long as Truth.
I will, however, give him credit for one thing. While here lately
everybody is telling what he has heard, and all about this and that
rumor, why, he thought of by far the best ones I have heard up to now.

That’s no small accomplishment I tell you, in this year of Rumors, to
be able to say at the end of it: “Well, I told the best ones.”

His were so good that before his audience got through applauding
at Sing Sing (or rather Ossining) why, they had him on the stand at
Washington. That’s the first time a Theatrical troup ever jumped from
Ossining to Washington.

They even put him on ahead of Fall, Sinclair, and all the Headliners.




TWO LONG LOST FRIENDS FOUND AT LAST

[Illustration: THEY REHEARSED THEIR OLD ACT HERE YESTERDAY.]




TWO LONG LOST FRIENDS FOUND AT LAST


Well, sir, I have a real Message for my readers. It looked like it
would be just the ordinary Article with no flavor or Backbone or Truth,
and with no real underlying news or wisdom, that is, nothing that the
people would be glad to know and read. As I say, that is the kind of
Article I thought it would be. But as I picked up the morning Papers,
why, I read who was in our midst out here in Sunny California. Well,
sir, it struck me like a thunderbolt here was news which my public had
been longing for for years and here I had found it out!

Well, I says to myself, this is too good to keep, for here people had
been wondering all this time for just what I knew now. I kinder hated
to leave the East on account of thinking I would be out of touch with
some of our National Characters but I find that sooner or later they
all arrive out here and start in fighting off Real Estate men the same
as shooing away Mosquitoes on Long Island.

Well, who should blow in but two of our old long-lost friends, and I
know that even ’Frisco (who is jealous of any one being here) will be
glad to hear they are here well and hearty, and rehearsed their old Act
here yesterday and people enjoyed them just as much as they did in the
old days.

Both of these Boys were on the big time and were well known all around
the Circuit, and any time they took the Platform standing by the side
of a Pitcher of ice water and a glass, why, it just meant 6 columns
starting on the front page and ending among the want ads. I bet you
hadn’t heard of them in years and will thank me for resurrecting this
information for you.

I can’t keep it any longer. I did want to keep it till the finish of
this to tell you but I must tell you now who they are--William J. Bryan
and Billy Sunday!

Neither did I, but _they are_, and looking fine.

You know, if you have lost any one, look out here, because sooner or
later they will come here to visit relatives, for anybody that has
relatives comes here so he can write back to other relatives.

They are both just resting here (so is everybody else). Mr. Bryan is
waiting till he finds out where the next Democratic Convention will
be held, and then be there ready to knock any aspiring Presidential
Candidate on the head the minute it shows above the mob.

The only way they will ever fool W. J. is some presidential year decide
not to run any one. Then it will be a good joke on him; he will have no
one to object to.

Of course, now we don’t hear much of Democratic Candidates, as both
sides are busy watching to see what Cal. will do. When he first become
President there seemed to be quite a Sentiment to nominate him again
for Vice President.

Everybody was wondering how he would come out of the Coal strike
situation, and figured his political life or death depended on how he
decided, so he just fools everybody by appointing some other man to
settle it. Now, no other President had ever been smart enough to think
of a thing like that; they tried to do it themselves, so I think he
will go a long ways. He figured, why should I get in wrong when I can
get some man to do it for me, so he just looked around until he found
some other fellow who had a political future.

He said, “Gifford, you go get in wrong with which ever side you decide
against.” Now, the minute a Crisis comes up, all he has to do is to
remember some Republican name and appoint him to settle it for him.

Now the only Crisis that Mr. Coolidge can possibly get into, himself,
is running out of Republicans to appoint. In that case he would have to
appoint a Democrat which would bring on a worse Crisis than the one he
appointed him to settle.

But I am not here to talk about Cal. and what he is doing. I am here
to tell you of these two long lost Prodigals that I discovered in the
wilds of this Village. They were preaching in a Pulpit. I guess that’s
why no one had seen them for so long. Both these Boys, in the good old
days used to talk in a Tent. Now you can always attract a crowd in a
Tent, for they figure that it might be a Circus. Come to think of it,
their Acts were similar; either one of them could take a Dictionary and
sink an enemy with words at 40 paces.

Bryan’s speeches have been the only thing to look forward to at
a Democratic Convention for years. He has sent more Presidential
Candidates home without a Reception Committee meeting them than any
Monologist living. He can take a batch of words and scramble them
together and leaven them properly with a hunk of Oratory and knock the
White House door knob right out of a Candidate’s hand.

Bryan has made more Political speeches than Germany has Marks. He
kissed, when they were Babies, every man and woman in the United States
who is now up to the age of 45. He has juggled the destinies of America
more than any two Presidents because he has the choosing or rejecting
of them.

His career has varied from Non-intoxication to Evolution; his hobbies
have jumped from Grape juice to Monkeys. He tries to prove that we did
not descend from the Monkey, but he unfortunately picked a time when
the actions of our people prove that we did. He, undoubtedly, is one of
our greatest minds and in most of his Theories he has been just too far
ahead of the mob.

He preached Prohibition at a time when it meant Political Suicide for
himself. I bet the next Democratic Candidate for President, no matter
how strong he may think he is, would rather have the support of W. J.
Bryan than any doubtful State in the Union.

Now that brings to us his accomplice, Willie Sunday, who I discovered
staggering from one of our Local Pulpits last Sunday. To some of you
who can’t or don’t wish to remember, Billy passed out just as Andy
Volstead made his entrance. Now Barnum invented the Tent, but Billy
Sunday filled it. He can get more people into a tent than an Iowa
Picnic at Long Beach, California.

He is the only man in Ecclesiastical or Biblical history that ever
had to train physically, for a sermon. He brought more converts to
Prohibition before the 18th Amendment come in, than the 18th Amendment
has converted to Prohibition since it went in.

He is the first preacher to specialize on Liquor. While Bryan’s
oratorical wrath in the later years has been hurled at Darwin, Billy
Sunday picks his opponent with a carelessness that is almost reckless.

I suppose that he has had more mortal worldly combats with the Devil
himself than any man living. He has challenged the Devil publicly more
times than Wills, the Negro, has Jack Dempsey. People have been going
for years to hear Billy, just figuring that if they didn’t go that
night it might be the very night the Devil would hear what Billy was
calling him and come up, and they might miss what would happen.

I don’t know this Devil myself but if he heard Billy say these things
and didn’t come up and call him for it, I think less of him than Billy
does. Of course, the Devil may be just good natured, and figure, well,
he can’t hurt _ME_, and if he can get anything out of it why let him go
ahead.

Now, of course, you can get a fellow wrong. Billy used to lay all the
drinking on to this Devil, and claimed that if we had Prohibition we
could lick this Devil. Now we got Prohibition, I don’t think he can
legitimately lay the present drinking onto the Devil.

Course, from this I don’t want you to think I am taking sides in this
thing. I don’t know either one personally. But, as I say, there is a
chance that they both may have each other wrong. As I say, Billy must
have something on the Devil or he wouldn’t dare to call him what he
does, especially if the Devil can hear him, and I tell you the Devil
must be pretty low if he don’t answer him, that is, if he hears him.

I have always figured that the reason that the Devil didn’t arise and
respond was Billy’s slang was too much for him. But Billy sure did do
a lot of good in the old days, and no matter if you didn’t like his
style of sermon, you sure didn’t get a chance to do any sleeping.

So I hope we can keep them both out here with us, and help to get some
of our population’s mind on the Church on Sunday instead of being
continually looking for lots.




THEY NOMINATED EVERYBODY BUT THE FOUR HORSEMEN

[Illustration: “YOU WASN’T HERE AND YOU KNOW THEM AS WELL AS I DO.”]




THEY NOMINATED EVERYBODY BUT THE FOUR HORSEMEN


As I pen you these few lines, the Democratic National Convention is
still going on; going on to where, nobody knows. But it has to end some
time for even a Delegate can only stand just so much Oratory.

All the first week was taken up with seconding the nomination of McAdoo
and Al Smith.

It looked like they were going to run out of people to do it, and they
would have to second each other.

I wish you could have been there and heard what great men we have in
this Country. We started out with 16 men for President. Here is what
each one of them was.--“The only Man who can carry the Democratic
Party to a Glorious Victory in November. Whose every act has been an
inspiration to his fellow men. Not only loved in his Home State but in
every State.” Well, there was six continuous days of that.

Then the Ku Klux Klan argument come along, and really it was welcome
even in New York. Just to get people’s mind off that continuous, “The
Man I am about to name to you.”

One day and up to two thirty in the Night they fought and argued the
Klan. It was the most exciting and Dramatic night I ever saw in my life.

After 11 hundred Delegates voted and recounted and voted the thing
stood only about one vote apart, in fact a fraction of a vote, due to
North Carolina, instead of having an election and naming 24 Delegates,
just letting the whole State come as Delegates and giving each one the
usual Volstead Ratio, Half of one percent of a Vote.

Alaska voted one Klu Klux away up there. Can you imagine a man in all
that Snow and Cold with nothing on but a thin white Sheet and Pillow
Slip?

My old Friend W. J. Bryan made one of his characteristic speeches. He
said that if they split the Democratic Party with this Klan issue that
another great Party would arise to take its place. Some guy up in the
Gallery started Booing him. He just stopped and waited a minute until
the heckler quit, then he said: “But no great leader of any Party has
ever come from the Gallery.” After that they laid off him.

Ex-Secretary of War Baker made a Speech on the League of Nations and
spoke of the 4 Horsemen of the Apocalypse, meaning I suppose, Borah, La
Follette, Johnson and Brookhart.

I arrived late one morning, well only about 15 minutes late, and they
had nominated five men for president already. I asked a Man in the
Press stand who they were and he said, “You wasn’t here and you know
them as well as I do.”

I had a friend who wanted to be nominated but all the nominating
speakers were so given out that he had to let it go until next
Election, that is in case they ever have another one.

If the one who is nominated can only swing the votes of the ones who
were defeated he will give Mr. Coolidge a tight race.

Talk about Presidential Timber. Why, man, they had whole Lumber yards
of it here.

There was so many being Nominated that some of the Men making the
nominating Speeches had never even met the man they were nominating.

I know they had not from the way they talked about them.

Every time the speaker nominated somebody, why the Band would strike
up what they thought was an appropriate tune. The bird nominated Gov.
Brown of New Hampshire kept talking and referring to “The Old Granite
State. That Glorious old Granite State.” When he finished the Band
played “Rock of Ages”. There was granite for you.

They nominated from a list of all Democrats. They drew them out the
night before the convention.

Some Man named Stuart from Illinois got up to nominate somebody, and we
knew we would hear something about Lincoln being born in Illinois, and
sure enough we did. He kept quoting Lincoln’s famous remark about, “God
must have loved the common people because he made so many of them.”
Well this Bird kept talking about his man being for the common people,
and he flopped terribly. You are not going to get people’s votes
nowadays by calling them common. Lincoln might have said it but I bet
you it was not until after he was elected.

The fellow that nominated Charley Bryan from Nebraska was the only
truthful one. He said, “I am going to nominate a Politician,” You know
nobody at these things dare mention Politician. Matchless leader or
successor to Jefferson are about as low as they ever mention. This
fellow told how Bryan had lowered the price of Gasoline in Nebraska.
And a crowd of people was seen to leave the hall. I think it was John
D. Rockefeller and his Bible Class.

In the Charley Bryan demonstration staged by Nebraska, Florida joined
in out of brotherly love.

When Bryan was presented the Band played “Way down Yonder in the Corn
Field.”

When Jimmy Cox was Nominated the band played, “Should Old Acquaintance
Be Forgot.” Jimmy Cox is a mighty fine man, But I don’t know of any
quicker way in the World to be forgotten in this Country than to be
defeated for President. A Man can leave the Country and people will
always remember that he went some place. But if he is defeated for
President they can’t remember that he ever did anything.

Smith’s Demonstration lasted one hour and a Half. McAdoo’s almost as
long. But most of them just managed to last through a verse and one
chorus by the Band.

Matthews of New Jersey nominated Gov. Silzer also of New Jersey. He
made a plea for him on the ground that he came from the same state that
President Wilson did. That don’t mean anything. Look I come from the
same state that Harry Sinclair did. Yet I couldn’t find an Oil Well
without a search warrant.

His principal plea for Silzer was on the Highways of New Jersey. So if
people west of the Mississippi and down south want a President who will
keep the Roads of New Jersey up in good shape you can’t do better than
have him.

A guy from Utah talked so long and loud that all of us couldn’t see how
it could be anybody in the world he was nominating but Brigham Young
that Matchless Father. But at the finish he crossed by saying he was
seconding McAdoo’s nomination.

You could never tell until one got through who he was going to name.
They would pull the name last. That would be the only surprise they had.

Quinn of Minnesota throwed the biggest scare into the Convention. He
praised his man so high that everybody in the hall knew it couldn’t be
anybody but La Follette but he fooled us all by seconding Smith. In his
talk he never spoke of anything east of St. Paul and in Smith’s travels
he has never been west of Syracuse. So you see for yourself how hard it
was to follow who they were going to name.




IN THE MIDST OF A 7 YEAR HITCH

[Illustration: WELL, I GUESS YOU HEARD ABOUT MY PRESIDENTIAL BOOM.]




IN THE MIDST OF A 7 YEAR HITCH


Well, I guess you heard about my Presidential Boom. You know every
calamity in the World befell the Democrats while they were here in
session the last couple of years. First they started in nominating.
The entire first week was taken up with that. They nominated so many
Democrats that if it had kept up another day they would have had to
go over into the Republican Column. They talked their Delegates and
audience to death the first week. No wonder they couldn’t agree there
was no two Delegates that could remember the same Candidate.

Well, it ran along week after week and the longer it ran the more
confused the Delegates got. They began to get this Convention mixed up
with the San Francisco one, because it had been so long since they left
home, why, both Conventions seemed about the same distance off. One
Delegation got to voting for Cox thinking it was ’Frisco. The Chairman
had no more than got that straightened out and explained to them that
this was an entirely different year when what does my Native State of
Oklahoma do! They woke up the Chairman of their Delegation right quick
one day to answer Roll Call and he blurts out, “Oklahoma votes 20 for
Robert L. Owen.” Well, the chairman had to explain to them that this
was not 1920, and that Mr. Owen was not a Candidate, he was only a
Delegate. The Missouri Delegation, when they could not get any two to
agree, voted for two days for Champ Clark, until Telegrams commenced to
pour in telling them of his demise.

Nebraska voted for Bryan, and got sore when the rest of the Convention
thought it was W. J. They said it was a Son or a Brother or something
of his. Mississippi and Louisiana started voting for my old friend Pat
Harrison and Pat’s Bottle run out, and they found an old Hoffman House
Hotel Register, and from that on they just voted for the names on it.

Alabama was the only State that you could absolutely depend on. It
seems that years ago Alabama sent a Delegation to some Convention
instructed for a Candidate and that when they got there they sold out
and voted for another. So they have passed a Law that any time they
send a troup away again that they were going to vote for the man they
told them to until the Candidate’s body had been duly pronounced dead
by the Home Coroner. Well, that knocked any chance of profit out of
this trip as far as Alabama was concerned.

La Follette, out in Cleveland, wrote a Platform, held a Convention,
nominated himself, and went home. All this happened during the time
they were polling the Illinois Delegation here at this Convention.

Women Delegates started in with Bobbed Hair and wound up by being
able to sit on it. One Woman sent back home for her washing machine.
The Arkansas Delegation started in whittling up the Board floor and
whittled their way from the Back of the Hall up to the Speaker’s
Platform. There was so many shavings under their Chairs that if a fire
had ever broken out in the building, between these shavings and the
long Whiskers, why, there would never in the World have been a way to
stop it. There was one old long bearded Man from Utah, that when the
voting on the Klan got close shook 4 Delegates with half a vote each
out from under his Whiskers and decided the issue right there.

All the members of the National Committees had Gold Badges to start in
with. The thing had only gone along a few weeks when they commenced to
turn green and finally you couldn’t tell whether it was a Badge or a
Shamrock.

It’s too bad because all the Delegates here will lose their votes when
they go home this Fall. The law plainly states that you must have
been a resident of the State for the last 6 months. If they were not
thoughtful to register when they come to New York, they will lose their
votes entirely.

Lots of the Delegates also had Wives who were Delegates, and this has
been the longest time they ever spent together in their lives. I bet
you will never see another Man go on a Delegation to a Democratic
Convention when his Wife is on one. South Carolina has no Divorces, so
of course this Convention gave all their members a chance to get out of
the State, claim a residence of 6 months, and be divorced before they
get home.

Now, mind you, as I pen these lines this thing is still going on.
It’s Monday morning of the third week. I don’t know now who they will
nominate. In fact people have lost interest. If they ever do nominate
somebody some of the Papers may carry it and you may know it by
the time you read this, but I doubt if he will even be nominated by
then. If he is, it will be too late to get his name on the Ballot
by November, as the racing Forms have already gone to press for the
November Classic. I am certainly glad that La Follette entered. That
will give Coolidge somebody to run against, anyway.

[Illustration: THE DEATHS FROM OLD AGE AMONG THE DELEGATES IS ABOUT
OFFSET BY THE BIRTHRATE.]

If they don’t hurry up they will be the only Party in the World that
ever nominated a Candidate and got him defeated on the same day.

In number of Population the Convention is holding its own. The deaths
from old age among the Delegates is about offset by the Birthrate.
Personally I think that the Candidates who will finally be nominated
will be born in this Convention.

I have been writing a daily account for the Papers for this seven
years’ Hitch. I took it for so much for the job. If I had signed by the
word I would be able now to walk by and hiss Rockefeller.

In 1860, the Almanac says, a Democratic Convention was moved from
Charleston to Baltimore. There is nobody here in this Convention to
verify it, so I doubt if it ever happened. But, anyway, they talked
for two Days about moving this one, on account of it being held here
in New York where one of the Candidates lives. Well, they got to
figuring and there was no Town they could take it to that didn’t have a
Candidate who lived there.

Of course their thoughts naturally turned to Claremore, Oklahoma, the
best Town between Foyil and Catoosa in Oklahoma. Then when Arizona
showed such splendid judgment in putting me in nomination, why of
course we couldn’t go there on account of the Galleries there being
biased in favor of my nomination. Then they figured they might just as
well stay here. Everybody had got used to the place, and if they moved
them they would just have to get used to sleeping in strange chairs
again, and maybe by a different seating arrangement they might be
sleeping next to some one they didn’t even know. It meant really a lot
of trouble, anyway, opening up new credit accounts and getting used to
a different Climate.

I want the Democrats to just pass this election by without getting beat
and then center all their forces on 1928. Cal. will be ineligible then,
unless they may pass a Constitutional amendment to elect a President
for life--and he is so lucky they are just liable to do it. But if he
is out, the Republicans will have to get a new man too. Then it will be
an even break.

But go ahead with this Convention and pick him now. In fact I would
pick out three or four to run in rotation in 1928, ’32, ’36, and so on,
because you will never get Democratic Delegates to give up the best
part of their lives by attending another one of these things. If they
are wise today down there they will pick Jackie Coogan, for President
and Baby Peggy for Vice President.




“WILL ROGERS JR.” REPORTS THE CONVENTION FOR HIS FATHER, WORN OUT BY
LONG SERVICE

(_Mr. Rogers’ articles on the Convention attracted more attention than
perhaps any other humorous political articles. This one, in particular,
brought him comments from all over the country._--THE PUBLISHERS.)




“WILL ROGERS JR.” REPORTS THE CONVENTION FOR HIS FATHER, WORN OUT BY
LONG SERVICE

 Will Rogers Jr. attended the convention to take up the duties of
 reporter to replace his venerable old father.

                     By WILL ROGERS JR.


Papa called us all in last night and made his last will and testament,
he called it. He said he had carried his work on just as long as he
could and he realized that he was unable, on account of his old age,
to go further with it. He put in the will that I being the oldest was
to take up his life’s work, that of reporting the Democratic National
Convention.

He herded us all and told us of how he had given all the best years
of his life to this and out of respect to his name and memory that we
children should carry on. And that our children were to do likewise and
that we should raise them to always know that their mission through
life would be to keep reporting the progress of the Democratic
National Convention at New York. And it was in the will that if we
didn’t we would forfeit any claim to any royalties that might still
be coming due from books that he had written on the early life of the
convention.

Mama wants to send him to the Old Men and Old Women’s Home for
Survivors of this Convention, but he won’t go. Poor Mama is worried
about him. He won’t talk rational. He just keeps saying, “Alabama” and
“for what purpose does the gentleman arise,” and “if we can’t elect
our candidate we will see that you don’t get yours” and “unfit” and
“release.” We don’t know what it all means.

Now, Mr. Editor, I am only a little boy and I am not much of a
reporter, but Papa told us we didn’t have to be very good; that all we
must practice was endurance. But you will, Mr. Editor, please take my
story, won’t you for Mama’s sake, for she knew how poor Papa hated to
give up and how proud he will be if I can only keep his life’s work
going?

Mama got our Dad’s old press badge and patched it up so it would stick
together and I went down today. The hall was full of all those feeble
people and it looked kinder like a church; everybody was sleeping. All
but one man, who was standing and reading aloud out of a geography the
names of States that are situated in the Western Hemisphere and that
don’t belong to Canada.

Papa had given me an old worn and torn paper with a list on it that he
had used to mark off the numbers on when this convention started. He
told me to always keep it for comparisons. Also that a museum had tried
to buy it from him. I go to school and our teacher had told us what
a wonderful country this is we live in, and how it had stuck so well
together and, sure enough, when this man kept reading these names and
figures, why, on Dad’s old paper were a lot of the same ones.

I kept waiting for him to call out the name “Wisconsin” that Dad had,
but this fellow didn’t have it on his, and according to Dad’s old paper
we at that time had California and anybody knows that Japan has owned
California for years. On Dad’s old paper they still had the Philippine
Islands, which is now Japan’s Naval Base. But as for the candidates,
the names were just the same. None of them had dropped out. Their
sons were carrying on their father’s life work too, trying to hold
what votes they had. Saulsbury Jr. had six. Underwood Jr. had a few
more than what was on Dad’s paper, as the State of Alabama had more
population and had naturally increased its number of delegates.

An old man sat by me and I got to talking to him and he seemed to want
to be friendly and talk of his early life. He said his name was Coogan.
“Jackie Coogan,” I think he said, and that he used to be in some old
fashioned things called moving pictures, and that he could remember as
a child when this started that men used to be wakened up and have to
call out the numbers when their States were called. But now they have
little phonographs and every time a State is called, why the phonograph
says “Two and nine eighths for Smith Jr. and one and sixty-five fifths
for McAdoo Jr.” and so on.

A man has a hammer and he couldn’t keep them awake with it any longer
so they adjourned, and the attendants wheeled them all out. It was only
about three o’clock in the afternoon and they were to be back again at
nine. I went home to tell Pop what had happened and to write my story.
He said, “It’s looking better, son; they are adjourning earlier and
starting later. Maybe the miracle will happen,” and his old eyes began
to gleam as he seemed to vision the end of his glorious dream.

Then I told him very enthusiastically, “Oh, yes, Pop, it looks great
because a man with a family name of Brennan got up, and one named
Cramer, and said they would adjourn and hold a conference of leaders
and would have something to report by tonight.”

Well, I wish you could have seen my poor old Dad. He went into spasms.
He pulled his hair. He raved. None of us could do anything with him. He
had been all right before I had mentioned this leader and conference
business. He then said:

“Son, those same men’s fathers started holding those conferences
forty years ago. Going to report something to the convention tonight?
That is exactly what is the matter with this convention now, it’s
those conferences. If they had let the delegates confer instead of
the leaders, why, your poor old father could have spent a life of
usefulness instead of one listening to a man read off numbers, which we
all knew better than he did.

“Son, if it’s the Taggarts and Rockwells and Macks and Cramers and all
of them that are conferring, you will die, like your poor old father,
right at your post, listening for something to happen.”

So please, Mr. Editor, take this story, and tomorrow, when I come home
to dear old Dad, I will make him feel good. I won’t tell him they are
going to hold another conference.




ROPING A CRITIC




ROPING A CRITIC


Prologue--These critics have been interviewing Actors (and us other
people that appear on the stage) for years. And none of the interviews
have ever been right, cause they never told the truth. Course they
couldn’t tell the truth about a lot of us, if they had he would have
put us out of business. But they tried to be so kind to us and tell all
the noble deeds that at the finish we had lost more friends than we had
gained by the interview.

Now there is nothing interesting in an Actor but his act and you can
get it at the box office price. This season you won’t even have to form
in line. If you can get a party of three to go with you you can get a
rate.

But I figured there was something interesting about a Critic. Why,
there are scientists that spend a life time studying a Toad.

Now, I might not find out as much as these Toad experts but I am going
to look one of these Critics over at short range for about an hour--as
Actors have got plenty of time--we are not bowing much nowadays.

So I picked out the Male of the Species as they are not as venomous as
the females. I picked out Ashton Stevens, principally on account of him
being frail of statue and because I had seen his name one time on an
Ash Can for endorsing a Wintergarden Show.

Act I. DRESSING ROOM COLONIAL THEATER.--Enter Stevens made up as
Critic. Gray suit, leather buttons, Black Felt Hat on upside down (same
one Dick Little used to wear), middle finger of each hand calloused
from knocking Actors. Smoking Pipe which is against all Theater rules,
but on account of being critic managers can’t say anything. The smoking
really wasn’t as bad as the Tobacco.

I started in to interview him and he started in like an Actor by lying.
So I stopped him right there and said: “Say, this is not a theatrical
interview. I am representing the Public and I want the real dope on
Critics.”

Q--Where were you born? Even a Critic has to be born.

A--I was born in San Francisco in 18--.

Q--Never mind when you were born--the reading public can tell by your
jokes how old you are. Why were you born?

A--No answer.

Q--Well, if you can’t think of a reason neither can I, so we will let
that question go. Did Frisco ever find out that you were born there?

A--Yes.

Q--Is that why you left there?

A--No answer.

Q--When did you first show symptoms of becoming a Critic?

A--When I had lost my job at everything else.

Q--Didn’t you tell your folks and didn’t they have anything done for
you to cure this?

A--I was afraid to tell them.

Q--Who gave you your first job Criticing?

A--William Randolph Hearst.

Q--Why did he give it to you?

A--He heard me play the Banjo.

Q--He heard you play the Banjo and gave you a job as a Critic. I
suppose if he saw me throw a rope he would make me a Society Editor?

A--Oh, but it is not for my Banjoing that he keeps me now, its for my
writings.

Q--Oh, he has forgot that you taught him to play the Banjo--that’s why
you still work for him?

A--No, its my writings. You see he took me from Frisco to New York and
put me on the New York Journal.

Q--Now you say he took you there as Critic. Don’t you really think he
might have been getting a little rusty on the Banjo and needed it tuned?

A--No, I stayed there 4 years.

Q--What happened at the end of 4 years, did you all run out of Tunes,
or did you break the Banjo or what?

A--No; then he promoted me to Chicago.

Q--You felt that you had taught him all you knew. Did you bring the
Banjo out here with you?

A--Oh, yes I have it; I will bring it over now and Show you how I play.

Q--Never mind bringing it over now or any other time. We will drop the
Banjo until some time you feel you want a change of jobs. You can take
it over to Medill McCormicks and teach him. He could at least amuse the
other Senators with it and perhaps make you Editor of the Tribune. Now
to get back to Criticing. What makes a Dramatic Critic?

A--Two Free Seats a Night on the Isle.

Q--Is it true that it is the only business in the World with absolutely
no qualifications?

A--Yes; next to being a comedian with a Ziegfeld Show its the only
thing that requires no training.

Q--Is it true that Dyspepsia is necessary to being a Critic?

A--Yes; its more prevalent now since the Movies come in.

Q--Don’t you think that Prohibition has lowered the Standard of
Dramatic Criticism?

A--Yes; among those that didn’t look ahead and supply, I think that to
be true.

Q--They still train on Scotch, don’t they?

A--Well, they are not as well trained as they used to be.

Q--Don’t you find a great many people that think they are Critics?

A--Yes, but I find very few that get paid for it.

Q--Do you believe in constructive Criticism?

A--No; I believe in entertaining Criticism.

Q--Do you get many letters kicking on your opinion?

A--Oh, yes; quite a few.

Q--In that way you can tell just how many read it, can’t you? I read
where three out of four of every newspaper started failed. What
percentage of dramatic Criticisms do you think is responsible for this
failure?

A--I don’t know; I was never on a failing paper.

Q--That’s pretty good; that’s a Nifty. Now you Critics having never
tried it, you don’t realize just how hard it is to be an Actor?

A--Yes, the more plays we see the more we realize it.

Q--Now, you say you have worked for Mr. Hearst twenty-five years for
teaching him the Banjo. What instrument did Brisbane teach him and do
you think I could interest him in a Base Drum? I hammer a mean Blues on
one of those things.

A--You might snare him with that. It takes two heads to make a drum.

       *       *       *       *       *

Now, Dear Readers--both of you--if this little interview has made you
feel more kindly toward the Dramatic Critics, and has brought their
overworked profession to the high standards to which I have tried to
honestly picture them, my work will not have been in vain.




“THE WORLD TOMORROW,” AFTER THE MANNER OF GREAT JOURNALISTS.




“THE WORLD TOMORROW,” AFTER THE MANNER OF GREAT JOURNALISTS.[B]


Now for the last few months I have been writing and I have become
ambitious and want to do “Bigger and Better things.” I realize that
my writings up to now have only appealed to the Morons. (That’s not
Mormon misspelled. It’s _Morons_, just as it’s spelled.) So I have been
a close Student and admirer of some of our great editorial writers and
I have tried to study their style and, beginning with this article, I
am changing my entire method of Literature and I hereby bid Adieu to
my Half-Wit Audience. (As a writer’s Writings never appeal to a higher
grade of intelligence than the Writer himself.) So, from now on, I am
going to give these learned and heavy thinkers a run for their Laurels.
I am out to make the front Page. My Column will be called The World
Tomorrow, not only commenting on the news of Today but predicting what
the morrow will bring forth.

A Race Horse, In Memorandum, beats the great Zev, the International
Favorite and My Own thrown in for good measure. That news will
perhaps interest 40 million Human Beings, and 2,000 Bookmakers,
while the news of the unearthing of a Prehistoric Skull at Santa
Barbara, California, linking us up with the Neanderthal Age will
only be appreciated by a small Majority of us thinking People. Some
anthropologists, however, consider the extinct Neanderthal Man as a
separate Species (Homo Neanderthalenis) intermediate between the Java
Man (or Pithecanthropus). According to Linneaus, Humanity comprises
four races: the Whites, having a light colored skin, belonging to the
Caucasian race; the Blacks, the completest possible negation of White;
the Republicans, form of genus Homo ape in his earliest Prehistoric
State; and, last of the four Races the Democrat. The Democrat doubtless
originated in the eastern Hemisphere. The main structural characters
distinguishing him are his gait, the modification of the feet for
walking instead of prehension, and the great Toe being non-opposable,
and, most of all, the enormous development of the brain, and smooth
rounded Skull.

But what cares the man of today for the Neanderthal Age! He is of the
Speculative Age. If he can get 10 Dollars down on the Nose of a winner
at about 15 to one, he don’t care if we descend from Goat or Ape.

As Demosthenes, the Great William Jennings Bryan of his time, so aptly
put it when he casually met Confucius, the originator of Mah-Jong
on Epsom Downs: “Good Afternoon, countryman, art thee risking a few
Shekels on thy favorite Crow Bait in this Race?” And Confucius pulled
the following Nifty which has been handed down through the Ages, and
made him the Philosopher or Shanghai:

“No, Demosthenes, Betting is a form of unintelligence. So long as we
have betting, we will know we have the ignorant with us.”

That little remark of Confucius was well said, and the fact that we had
40 million interested in the Race, and only a handful interested in the
Neanderthal Man, proves we have a long way to go yet until Civilization
is thoroughly reached.

       *       *       *       *       *

The Crown Prince of Germany is to be allowed to return, proving that
War don’t pay. You only have to go back into History a short way to
the Trojan Wars. What happened to Priam the King of Troy when Prince
Paris his Heir and Son was born? Eros, Goddess of Discord, threw out
a Golden Apple to the most beautiful, and Juno, Minerva and Venus all
claimed it. Paris was to decide. He gave the Apple to Venus. Helen of
Troy, the most beautiful Woman in Sparta, got jealous of Paris and that
culminated in the War of Troy. Troy was besieged for 9 years. This
Trojan War alone should prove to the greedy Interests that War don’t
pay. And Sons born of Kings don’t pay. A law should be passed that all
offspring of Royal Birth should be of the feminine Gender.

       *       *       *       *       *

An American army airman flies at the rate of 258 miles an hour. What
does this astounding feat mean to the World? What did Napoleon say at
Austerlitz in 1805, just after the battle of Ulm, and after the Old
Corsican had rushed his troops from Cologne? He said, “An army travels
on its Stomach.”

Look at the progress that has been made in the mode of Transportation
from the Napoleon days to this! I don’t know exactly how far a man
could travel in a day on his Stomach. If he had a good Stomach and
was an Apt Traveler he might make pretty good headway. There was no
way in reckoning speed in those days as there was no way of fixing a
speedometer on a Soldier’s Stomach, but if you take a Soldier going
away from the Enemy, and if his Stomach held out, he certainly ought to
have had the abdominal record of his time.

But has Congress heeded what the Airship is doing? No, they go ahead
building Battleships which will be as useless as a shipping board.
Transportation advances but our Lawmakers are still traveling on their
Stomach.

       *       *       *       *       *

Lloyd George goes home to England after inviting us to join in the
Salvation of Europe. You have only to turn to Hugo’s Oration on
Voltaire to find out if we should meddle in the selfish affairs of
European Turmoil. Hugo said: “Before going further, let us come to an
understanding, Gentlemen, upon the word Abyss. There are good abysses:
such are the abysses in which evil is engulfed. Rabelais warned royalty
in Gargantua. Moliere warned the people at Tartuffe.” That proves right
there to any thinking person that we should not meddle in the affairs
of these envious Nations. The more Trouble you get them out of, the
more they get into. No, the time has come when this Country has got to
bank up our own fires for a cold morning. Just remember Cicero’s words
speaking at Glasgow in regard to America’s participation in the World’s
War: “La premiere femme du monde la tete montee en se couchant.” Those
who want to adjust Europe’s Carburetor should remember Horace Greeley’s
immortal Gag: “Go west, young man, _Not_ east.”

       *       *       *       *       *

A Lady in Chicago is arrested for killing a casual acquaintance. That’s
news. If she had killed her Husband or Lover that would be commonplace.
But friends are seldom killed. What does the 8th chapter, second verse,
of the first Book of Matthew teach us? That verse should be enough to
teach us that friendship should be trusted. We will never have true
civilization until we have learned to recognize the rights of others.

       *       *       *       *       *

Judge Gary, the head of the great Steel Corporation, eats only the
white of a soft boiled egg for breakfast. Which should be a lesson
to some of you who think you have to eat the whole egg to subsist.
We should look and learn from our Men who have Done Things. Read
Einstein’s Theory on what constitutes over-gorging. He says: “Light
rays, if obstructed, have an observed constant velocity irrespective of
the relative velocity between the observer.” That should show even the
ignorant when they have enough.

       *       *       *       *       *

A little Girl in Brooklyn started to school and forgot her books and
had to go home for them. There you have a bit of news that is valuable.
We are at that age when we are rushing headlong and paying no attention
to small details. It’s only the big things of life that interest us.
For instance, the little Girl was only interested in getting to the
School, not in what she had when she got there. If we only stopped
to realize that it is really after all the little things that count,
why, we would be a wiser and more contented race. People that can’t
remember should remember what Socrates said to Plato on the subject of
forgetfulness. He said: “Where then I wonder shall we find Justice and
Injustice in it? With which have we contemplated? Has it simultaneously
made its entrance?”

       *       *       *       *       *

A Professor of Columbia University won a prize by writing a Book in 15
hours. That’s a good thing. The quicker the Authors write them the
quicker they can get to some useful work. But if Pascal were on earth
today and heard of that feat he would say: “That’s fine, Professor, but
what did you do with the other 10 Hours?”

       *       *       *       *       *

It takes two and a half Tons of Marks to buy a Stein of Beer in Berlin.
Before the War you could have bought two and a half Tons of Beer for a
Mark. What does Wall Street think of that? It shows you that selfish
Interests can’t rule the People, when they make up their mind to rebel.

       *       *       *       *       *

P.S. You see I have an Encyclopedia, too.


FOOTNOTES:

[B] With apologies to Arthur Brisbane.




SETTLING THE AFFAIRS OF THE WORLD IN MY OWN WAY

[Illustration: “IF THEY HAVEN’T GOT ENOUGH WATER IN THERE TO FILL THE
HARBOR, WE WILL HAVE TO ASK THE NEIGHBORS TO DRAIN THEIR CORN LIQUOR.”]





SETTLING THE AFFAIRS OF THE WORLD IN MY OWN WAY


Well, they brought our Soldiers back from Germany. Would have brought
them back sooner but we didn’t have anybody in Washington who knew
where they were. We had to leave ’em over there so they could get the
Mail that was sent to them during the war. Had to leave ’em over there
anyway; two of them hadn’t married yet.

Since I wrote you last, an awful lot has happened at the Studio in
Washington, D. C. You know out where they make the Movies, the place we
make them is called the Studio. We are a great deal alike in lots of
respects. We make what we think will be two kinds of Pictures, Comedy
and Drama, or sad ones. Now you take the Capitol at Washington, that’s
the biggest Studio in the World. We call ours, Pictures, when they are
turned out. They call theirs Laws, or Bills. It’s all the same thing.
We often make what we think is Drama, but when it is shown it is
received by the audience as Comedy. So the uncertainty is about equal
both places.

The way to judge a good Comedy is by how long it will last and have
people talk about it. Now Congress has turned out some that have lived
for years and people are still laughing about them, and as for Sad
productions, they have turned out some that for sadness make “Over the
Hills” look like a roaring farce.

Girls win a little State Popularity Contest that is conducted by some
Newspaper; then they are put into the Movies to entertain 110 million
people who they never saw or know anything about. Now that’s the same
way with the Capitol Comedy Company of Washington. They win a State
Popularity Contest backed by a Newspaper and are sent to Washington to
turn out Laws for 110 million people they never saw.

They have what they call Congress, or the Lower House. That compares to
what we call the Scenario Department. That’s where somebody gets the
idea of what he thinks will make a good Comedy Bill or Law, and they
argue around and put it into shape.

Then it is passed along, printed, or shot, or Photographed, as we call
it; then it reaches the Senate or the Cutting and Titling Department.
Now, in our Movie Studios we have what we call Gag Men whose sole
business is to just furnish some little Gag, or Amendment as they call
it, which will get a laugh or perhaps change the whole thing around.

Now the Senate has what is considered the best and highest priced Gag
Men that can be collected anywhere. Why, they put in so many little
gags or amendments that the poor Author of the thing don’t know his own
story.

They consider if a man can sit there in the Studio in Washington and
just put in one funny amendment in each Bill, or production, that will
change it from what it originally meant, why, he is considered to have
earned his pay. Take for Instance the Prohibition Production that was
introduced in the Congress or Scenario Department as a Comedy.

Well, when it came up in the Senate, one of the Gag or Title Men says,
“I got an Idea; instead of this just being a joke, and doing away
with the Saloons and Bar Rooms, why I will put in a Title here that
will do away with everything.” So they sent around to all the Bars in
Washington and got a Quorum and released what was to be a harmless
little Comedy--made over into a Tragedy.

Then they put out a Production called the Non-Taxable Bond, or “Let the
Little Fellow Pay.” Well it had a certain Vogue for a while with the
Rich. But it flopped terribly in the cheaper priced Houses.

Another one they put out a lot of you will remember was called the
Income or Sur-Tax. It was released under the Title of, “Inherit your
money and your Sur-Tax is Lighter.”

The main Character in this one was a working man on salary, with no
Capital investment to fall back on, paying more on his income than
the fellow who has his original Capital and draws his money just from
interest. That Production has been hissed in some of the best houses.

They started to put on a Big one that everybody in America was looking
forward to and wanted them to produce called, “The Birth Of the Bonus,”
or “How Could You Forget so Soon!” But on account of Finances they
couldn’t produce that and the “Non-Taxable Bond Production” both, so
they let the Bonus one go.

They have been working on two dandies. One is called, “Refund, Refund,
I am always refunding You.” It’s principally for British Trade.

Then they got a Dandy Comedy; well, it’s really a serial as they put it
on every year. Everybody in the whole Studio is interested in it and
get a share of it. It’s really their yearly Bonus in addition to their
Salary. It’s called, “Rivers and Harbors,” or, “I’LL GET MINE.”

They got some of the funniest Scenes in there where they take 56
million Dollars of the People’s money and they promise to make a lot of
Streams wide enough to fish in. Now I saw a Pre-Release of it and here
are some of the Real Titles. In Virginia, their Gag Senator has thought
of a River called the MATTIPONI. In North Carolina, their Title writer,
Overman, thought of a name, the CONTENTNEA CREEK. But the funniest
Title in the whole Production is the CALOOSEHATCHIE, in Florida. It’s
located right in the fairway of a Golf Course and Congress must move it
or in two years it will be filled up with Golf Balls.

Then they have a scene applying for funds to dredge TOMBIGBEE CREEK,
and the BIG SUNFLOWER, in Mississippi. Well, that’s money well spent
to do that, as they may find some of the missing population.

And there’s the CLATSKANIE in Oregon. Now what I am wondering is how
our Navy is to make the Jump from the Harbor of Tombigbee to the
Docks in Oregon on the Clatskanie. Of course, that’s a different
appropriation or production, and will be arranged later.

Now I am off my Senators from Oklahoma, especially Robert Owen, who is
a part Cherokee Indian like myself (and as proud of it as I am). Now I
got names right there on my farm where I was born that are funny, too,
and Owen don’t do a thing to get me a Harbor on the VERDIGRIS river at
OOLAGAH in what used to be the District of COOWEESCOOWEE (before we
spoiled the best Territory in the World to make a State).

Right across the river from me lives JIM TICK-EATER. Now suppose a
foreign fleet should come up there. We can’t ask those Turtles and
Water Moccasins to move out without Government sanction. If they
haven’t got enough water in there to fill the harbor (we are only
18 miles from NOWATER, Oklahoma), why, we will have to ask all the
Neighbors to drain their Corn Liquor from their stills in there for a
couple of days. Then we could float the Leviathan.

Of course I don’t get anything done for my Harbor because my River
really _exists_.

Now, Folks, why patronise California-made Productions? The Capitol
Comedy Co. of Washington, D. C., have never had a failure. They are
every one, 100 percent funny, or 100 percent Sad.

They are making some changes in their cast down there and later I will
tell you about that. Also something about the Director.

So long, Folks, I will meet you at the Naval Manœuvers on CONTENTNEA
CREEK next year.




A SKINNY DAKOTA KID WHO MADE GOOD




A SKINNY DAKOTA KID WHO MADE GOOD


Out of the west came a little skinny runt kid, born out in the hills of
South Dakota. On Sundays the Cowpunchers and Ranchers would meet and
have Cow Pony races. On account of his being small he was lifted up and
a surcingle was strapped around over his legs and around the horse.
He was taken to the starting line on a straightaway and was “lapped
and tapped” off. He had the nerve and he seemed to have the head. So
they cut the surcingle and he got so he could sit up there on one of
those postage stamp things they call a Jockey’s saddle. He kept riding
around these little Country Shooting Gallery meets, and Merry-Go-Round
Gatherings, until he finally got good enough to go to a real race track
at New Orleans. There he saw more Horses in one race than he had ever
seen at one track before.

His first race he ran 2nd. Then he said to himself, “Why run second?
Why not run first?” And he did. They began to notice that this kid
really _savied_ a Horse. He spoke their language. Horses seemed to
know when the kid was up. He carried a Bat (Jockey’s term for a whip)
but he never seemed to use it. Other Jocks would come down the stretch
whipping a Horse out when the best he could finish would be 4th or 5th.
But not this kid. When he couldn’t get in the money he never punished
them. He hand rode them. He could get more out of a Horse with his
hands than another Jock could get with the old Battery up both sleeves.

He got to be recognized as one of the best, and he passed from one
Stable to another until he landed with the biggest, a real Trainer and
a Real Sportsman-Owner. How many thousands of People in every line
come to New York every year that want to make good, get ahead and be
recognized! They come by the millions. How many, if anything happened
to them, would get even a passing Notice in the busy and overcrowded
New York Press. If some Millionaire died, the best he could get would
be a column. Then perhaps it wouldn’t be read through by a dozen.
But what blazoned across the front pages of every Metropolitan daily
a few days ago, in bigger headlines than a Presidential Nomination,
bigger than the Prince of Wales will get on his arrival? In a race at
Saratoga Springs, N. Y., a Horse had fallen and carried down with him
a little skinny Kid (that had slept in his youth not in a 5th Avenue
Mansion but in Box Stalls all over the Country with Horses, the Horses
he knew how to ride and the Horses that loved to run their best for
him).

Here was the Headline: “SANDE IS HURT. He may never ride again.” They
don’t have to give even his first name; few know it. They don’t have to
explain who he is. They don’t have to tell which Rockefeller or Morgan
it was. It was just Sande. There is only one. Our Sande! The boy who
had carried America’s colors to Victory over England’s great Papyrus
and their Premier Jockey Steve Donohue.

The Ambulance rushes on the track and picks him up; it is followed by
hundreds afoot, running. The entire grand stands of people rush to the
temporary Track Hospital to see how Sande is, and hoping and praying
that it’s not serious. He revives long enough to tell his Wife he is
all right. Game kid that. Then he faints again. Mrs. Vanderbilt and
the elite of Society are assisting and doing all they can to help. A
personal Physician to a President of the United States is working
over him. He could not have shown any more anxiety over the President
than he did over this kid. When the thousands of pleasure seekers and
excitement hunters rushed from the stands and saw them lifting that
frail lifeless looking form from the track Ambulance there was not one
that wouldn’t have given an Arm off their body if they had thought it
would save his Life, and that goes for Touts, and Grooms, and Swipes,
as well as the Public.

Some western people who don’t know are always saying Easterners have
no Heart, everything is for themselves and the Dough. Say, don’t tell
me that! Geography don’t change Human Nature. If you are Right, people
are for you whether it’s in Africa or Siberia. A wire was sent by
Mr. Widener, a millionaire Racing Official, to Dr. Russell the great
Specialist of Roosevelt Hospital, New York, “Come at once. Spare
no expense. SANDE is Hurt!” That’s all Secretary Slemp could do if
President Coolidge was hurt.

Mr. Sinclair withdrew all Horses from the remaining Races. He would
withdraw them for Life if he knew it would restore this Kid who worked
for him, back to normal again.

Now what made this One Hundred and Ten Pounds (half portion of physical
manhood) beloved by not only the racing Public but by the masses who
never bet a cent on a Horse race in their lives? The same thing that
will make a man great in any line--his absolute HONESTY. The racing
public are very fickle and when they lose they are apt to lay blame on
almost any quarter. But win or lose, they knew it was not Sande. To
have insinuated to one of them that he ever pulled a Horse, would have
been taking your Life in your hands. What do you suppose he could have
gotten out of some bunch of betting Crooks to have pulled Zev in the
big International Race? Why, enough to retire on and never have to take
another chance with his Life by riding. He could have done it on the
back stretch and no one would have ever known.

Ability is all right but if it is not backed up by Honesty and Public
confidence you will never be a Sande. A man that don’t love a Horse,
there is something the matter with him. If he has no sympathy for the
man that does love Horses then there is something worse the matter
with him. The best a Man can do is to arrive at the top of his chosen
profession. I have always maintained that one Profession is deserving
of as much honor as another provided it is honorable.

Through some unknown process of reasoning we have certain things that
are called Arts, and to be connected with them raises you above your
fellow Man. Say, how do they get that way? If a Man happens to take up
Painting and becomes only a mediocre painter, why should he be classed
above the Bricklayer who has excelled every other Bricklayer? The
Bricklayer is a true Artist in his line or he could not have reached
the top. The Painter has not been acclaimed the best in his line hence
the Bricklayer is superior. Competition is just as keen in either line.
In fact there are more good bricklayers than Painters. If you are the
best Taxi Driver you are as much an Artist as Kreisler. You save lives
by your skilful driving. That’s a meritorious profession, is it not?

A Writer calls himself a Literary Man or an Artist. There are thousands
of them, and all, simply because they write, are termed Artists. Is
there a Sande among them? Caruso was great, but he had only to show
ability. He didn’t have to demonstrate any honesty. Nobody tried to
keep him from singing his best by bribery.

Now if you think the Racing Public and millions of well wishers are
hoping for this Kid’s recovery, what about the Horses? They knew him
better than the Humans did. Why, that Horse would have broke his own
neck rather than hurt Sande. Who is going to ride him in the next race
and make him win and not whip him?--not Sande. Who is going to sit on
him just where he will be the easiest to carry? Not Sande. Who is going
to lean over and whisper in his ear and tell him when to go his best?
Not Sande. Who is going to carry a Bat and not use it? Not Sande. Who
is going to watch the hand on that starting Barrier and have him headed
the right way just when the starter springs it? Not Sande. No, the
Horses are the ones who are going to miss him.

If we could speak their language like he can, here are a few
conversations that you will hear through the cracks in the Box Stalls:
“Gee, I can’t run; I don’t seem to get any help. I wish Sande were
back.”

A three year old replies, “I wish there was something we could do. If
they would just let us go up to the Hospital and talk to him he would
savy,” “I wish we had him here in a Box Stall. I would stand up the
rest of my life and give him my bed. I would fix him some Clean Hay to
lay on. He don’t want those White Caps and Aprons running around. He
wants to lay on a Horse Blanket, and have his busted Leg wrapped up
with Bandages like he knows how to use on ours. I bet they ain’t even
got Absorbine up there. That Kid would rather have a Bran Mash than all
that Goo they will feed him with up there.”

The Old Stake Horse 4 stalls down the line overhears and replies:
“Sure, I bet they have one of them Bone Specialists. What that Kid
needs is a good Vet.”

The old Selling Plater butts in: “Sure, we could cheer him up if he
was here. Them Foreigners up there don’t speak his Tongue. That kid is
part Horse. Remember how he used to kid wid us when he would be working
us out at daylight when the rest of the Star Jocks was in feathers.
One morning I told him if he didn’t quit waking me up so early in the
morning I was going to buck him off. He got right back at me; he said,
‘If you do I will get you left at the Post your next race.’ Gee, he
sure did throw a scare into me. And, say, you couldn’t loaf on that
Bird either. He knew when you was loafing and when you was trying. I
throwed up my tail one hot day to make him think I was all through. He
give me one cut with the Bat and I dropped that tail and left there so
fast I could have run over Man of War. Gee, those were great days; Do
youse reckon Zev knows anything about it? I hope they don’t tell him;
it would break his heart. He sure did love that kid.”

Patient readers, Lincoln went down in History as “HONEST Abe,” BUT HE
NEVER WAS A JOCKEY. If he had been a Jockey be might have gone down as
just “Abe.”




TAKING THE CURE, BY THE SHORES OF CAT CREEK

[Illustration: “IF YOU DON’T GET WELL AND THROW AWAY YOUR CRUTCHES I
GET NOTHING OUT OF IT.”]




TAKING THE CURE, BY THE SHORES OF CAT CREEK


Now, in my more or less checkered career before the more or less
checkered Public, I have been asked to publicly indorse everything from
Chewing Gum, Face Beautifiers, Patent Cocktail Shakers, Ma Junk Sets,
even Corsets, Cigarettes, and Chewing Tobacco, all of which I didn’t
use or know anything about. But I always refused.

You never heard me boosting for anything, for I never saw anything made
that the fellow across the street didn’t make something just as good.

But, at last, I have found something that I absolutely know no one else
has something just as good as, for an all-seeing Nature put this where
it is and it’s the only one he had, and by a coincidence it is located
in the Town near the ranch where I was born and raised.

So I hereby and hereon come out unequivocally (I think that’s the way
you spell it) in favor of a place that has the water that I _know_
will cure you. You might ask, cure me of what? Why, cure you of
anything--just name your disease and dive in.

Claremore, Oklahoma, is the birthplace of this Aladdin of health
waters. Some misguided Soul named it RADIUM WATER, but Radium will
never see the day that it is worth mentioning in the same breath as
this Magic Water. Why, to the afflicted and to all suffering Humanity,
a Jug of this Water is worth a wheelbarrow full of Radium. Still, even
under the handicap of a cheap name, this liquid Godsend has really
cured thousands.

Now you may say, “Oh you boost it because you live there,” but I don’t
want you to think so little of me that you would think I would misguide
a sick person, just for the monetary gain to my Home Town. We don’t
need you that bad. The city is on a self supporting basis without
Patients, just by shipping the Water to Hot Springs, Ark., Hot Springs,
Va., West Baden, Ind., and Saratoga, N. Y.

Now, as to a few of the Ignorant who might still be in the dark as to
where the Home of this Fountain of Youth is located, I will tell you. I
shouldn’t waste my time on such Low Brows, but unfortunately they get
sick and need assistance the same as the 95 Million others who already
know where Claremore is located.

It is located, this Mecca of the ill, about 17 hundred miles west of
New York, (either City or State, depends on which ever one you happen
to be in). You bear a little south of west, after leaving New York,
till you reach Sol McClellan’s place, which is just on the outskirts of
Claremore. Before you get into the City proper, if you remember about
500 miles back, you passed another Town. Well, that was St. Louis, most
of which is in Illinois.

Now, if you are in the North, and happen to get something the matter
with you, we are 847 and a half miles South by West from Gary, Indiana.
We have cured hundreds of people from Chicago, Ill. from Gun shot
wounds inflicted in attempted murders and robberies. There is only one
way to avoid being robbed of anything in Chicago and that is not to
have anything.

If you are from Minneapolis, our Radium Water guarantees to cure you of
everything but your Swedish accent. If you are from St. Paul, we can
cure you of everything but your ingrown hatred for Minneapolis.

I will admit that these waters have quite a peculiar odor as they have
a proportion of Sulphur and other unknown ingredients, but visitors
from Kansas City, who are used to a Stock Yard breeze, take this
wonderful water home as a Perfume.

Approaching this City from the North, don’t get it confused with
Oolagah, Oklahoma, my original Birthplace, which is 12 miles to the
north, as both towns have Post Offices.

From the west, if you are afflicted and you are sure to be or you
wouldn’t have gone out there, why Claremore is just 1900 miles due east
of Mojarve, California, one of the few Towns which Los Angeles has
not voted into their Cafeteria. You come east till you reach an Oil
Station at a road crossing. This oil station is run by a man named St.
Clair. You will see a lot of men pitching Horseshoes. Well, that is the
Post Office of Tulsa, Oklahoma, and the men are Millionaires pitching
Horseshoes for Oil Wells or for each other’s wives.

You should, by this description, have the place pretty well located in
your minds. Now, if you are living in the South and are afflicted with
a Cotton Crop under a Republican Administration, or with the Klu Klux,
or with the Hook Worm, we guarantee to rid you of either or all of
these in a course of 24 Baths.

Claremore is located just 905 miles north of Senator Pat Harrison’s
Mint Bed in Mississippi. In coming from the Gulf Country some have got
off the road and had to pass through Dallas, Texas, but have found out
their mistake and got back on the main road at Ft. Worth before losing
all they had. You easily can tell Ft. Worth. A fellow will be standing
down in front of the Drug Store making a speech.

Now, before reaching Claremore, you will pass, even though it’s in the
middle of the day, a place where you think it’s night and you won’t
know what is the matter. Well, that’s Muskogee, Oklahoma, and this
darkness is caused by the Color scheme of the population, so put on
your headlights and go on in. This Muskogee is really a parking space
for cars entering Claremore. Of course, if you want to drive on into
the Town of Claremore proper, its only 60 miles through the suburbs
from here.

The City is located on Cat Creek, and instead of having a lot of
Streets like most Towns and Cities, we have combined on one street. In
that way no Street is overlooked.

You might wonder how we discovered this Blarney Stone of Waters. In the
early days, us old timers there, always considered these Wells more
as an Odor than as a Cure. But one day a man come in there who had
been raised in Kansas and he had heard in a roundabout way of people
bathing, although he had never taken one. So, by mistake, he got into
this Radium Water.

He was a one armed man--he had lost an Arm in a rush to get into a
Chautauqua Tent in Kansas to hear Bryan speak on Man Vs. Monkey. Well
he tried this Bath and it didn’t kill him and he noticed that he was
beginning to sprout a new arm where he had lost the old one, so he kept
on with the Baths and it’s to him that we owe the discovery of this
wonderful curative Water. Also he was the Pioneer of Bathers of Kansas,
as now they tell me it’s no uncommon thing to have a Tub in most of
their larger towns.

Now, it has been discovered that you can carry a thing too far and
overdo it, so we don’t want you there too long. A man come there once
entirely Legless and stayed a week too long and went away a Centipede.

I want to offer here my personal Testimonial of what it did to me.
You see, after this Kansas Guy started it, why, us old Timers moved
our bathing from the River into a Tub. Now, at that time, I was
practically Tongue tied and couldn’t speak out in private much less in
Public. Well, after 12 baths, I was able to go to New York and make
after dinner speeches. I stopped in Washington on the way and saw how
our Government was run and that gave me something funny to speak about.

So, in thanking the Water, I also want to thank the Government for
making the whole thing possible. Now, had I taken 24 baths I would have
been a Politician, so you see I stopped just in time.

The only thing I get out of this is I have the “Thrown Away Crutch
Privilege.” If you don’t get well and throw away your Invalid Chair or
crutches I get nothing out of it, so that is why we give you a square
deal. If you are not cured, I don’t get your Crutches. There is no
other resort in the World that works on that small a margin.

W. J. Bryan drank one drink of this Water and turned against Liquor.
Senator La Follette drank two drinks of it and turned against
everything. So remember Claremore, The Carlsbad of America, where the
’Frisco Railroad crosses the Iron Mountain Railroad, not often, but
every few days.


THE END

       *       *       *       *       *




Transcriber’s note

Spelling and punctuation have been retained as published.
Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.

The use of italics on the title of _Illiterate Digest_ has been
standardized where applicable.

The following printer errors have been changed.

  =CHANGED  FROM                            TO=
  Page 15:  ““Drain Their Corn Liquor”      ““Drain Their Corn Liquor””
  Page 122: “siutated near any Body”        “situated near any Body”
  Page 229: “were equally responsbile”      “were equally responsible”
  Page 272: “appointed him to settle”       “appointed him to settle.”
  Page 317: “record of his time”            “record of his time.”