The Worlds Work Vol. 46, no. 1

The Worlds Work Vol. 46, no. 1

1923-05-01

Text

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"Salesmen of Hate: The Ku Klux Klan", the first of several articles on the Ku Klux Klan by Robert L. Duffas, appears in this publication on pp. 31-18. Therein the founding and establishment of a relationship with Ed Clarke and Mrs. Tyler (Southern Press Association) are narrated in detail.

Arthur W. Page, editor

The World’s Work °*
ARTHUR W. PAGE, EpitTor FRENCH STROTHER, Manacinc EpitTor BURTON J. HENDRICK, Associate Epitor
CONTENTS FOR MAY, 1923
Jobn M. Parker, - - - - - - - = = = = = = = = = = = = Frontispiece THE MARCH OF EVENTS—Awn EbpiTorIAL INTERPRETATION - - - - = =
Dr. F. G. Banting Frank T. Hines
George de Bothezat . Ada Louise Comstock Thomas Steckham Baker
=
VATCH OUT FOR THE BUCKET SHOPS - - - - - - - - - - = - A Warning Against the New Crop of Questionable Brokers
SALESMEN OF HATE: THE KU KLUX KLAN (Jllustrated) Rospert L. DuFFus I. How the Klan Was Built Up by Traveling Salesmen
NEWSPAPER ADVENTURES IN FLEET STREET (Jilustrated) Puitip Gipss Ill. Side Lights on Lord Northcliffe and on the Crippen Case
REPUBLICAN PRESIDENTIAL TIMBER - - - - - - Mark SULLIVAN Politicians Who Might Be Willing to Oppose Harding
THE SILENT SALESMAN (Illustrated) - - - - = = FLtoyp W. Parsons How to Acquaint the Buying Public With Your Wares
PLANTING TREES TO SERVE OUR CHILDREN (Jilustrated) Lewis E. THeE!ss How Pennsylvania is Rebuilding Her Forests
THE FARTHEST-AWAY MAN (Illustrated) - - - - - - - - - - - - A Missionary in Yunnan Province, China - - - - - Charles E. Park
AUGUSTUS THOMAS—FROM ‘MIZZOURA” (Illustrated) W. A. DAVENPORT A Closeup View of the Head of the Producing Managers Association
A NEW. ERA FOR THE FARMER (lilustrated)- - - - - -,AARON SAPIRO What Codperative Marketing is Doing for the Farmer
DOUBLING THE GUARDS ON HEALTH - - - SaAmuet Hopkins ADAMS 97 The New Profession of Public Health Officer
A TRIP AMONG MY ISLANDS (lJilustrated) - - - - - SypNeyY A. CLOMAN 104 Il. Further Adventures of An American Governor of the Sulu Islands
LOOKS AT BOOKS - - - - - - - Near the beginning of the front advertising section Reviews of and Remarks About New Books
THE WORLD’S WORKSHOP - - - - - Near the end of the front advertising section Some Glimpses Behind the Scenes in the Editor’s Office
SUN-DIAL GOSSIP - - - - - - - - - Near the end of the front advertising section Chats About the New Books Published at Country Life Press
Copyright, 1923, in the United States, Newfoundland, Great Britain, and other countries by Doubleday, Page & Co. All rights reserved TERMS: $4.00 a year; single copies 35 cents F. N. DOUBLEDAY, Pres. ARTHUR W. PAGE, Vice-Pres. NELSON DOUBLEDAY, Vice-Pres. RUSSELL DOUBLEDAY, Sec’y. S. A. EVERITT, Treas. JOHN J. HESSIAN, Asst. Treas.
6 DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY ®) CounrtTrRY LIFE EDUCATIONAL REVIEW THE GARDEN MAGAZINE RADIO BROADCAST SHORT STORIES HEALTH BUILDER CHICAGO: People’s Gas Bldg. GARDEN CITY, N. Y. NEW YORK: 120 W. 32nd Street BOSTON: Tremont Bldg. LOS ANGELES: Van Nuys Bldg.

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JOHN M. PARKER
Governor of Louisiana, who has boldly opposed the Ku Klux Klan in his state and is endeavoring to bring to justice the individuals guilty of the Mer Rouge Murders



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Votume XLVI
THE MARCH
T IS an excellent thing that international interest should shift for a few weeks from Europe to the American Hemisphere; that is the purpose served by the Pan- American Congress at Santiago, Chile.
There is an impression abroad on this side of the water and in Europe that the relations of the United States and its South American neighbors are not especially cordial. There is no solid basis for such an idea. Tempera- mental differences there may be but these things are essentially superficial; they do not strike deeply into the roots of national life; more important still, they do not affect na- tional policies.
To those who think that North Americans and South Americans are naturally unsym- pathetic the best possible rejoinder is history itself. The only foreign policy that the United States had, for the first century and a half of its history, was intimately bound up with the South American Republics. Es- sentially the Monroe Doctrine rested upon the principle that the United States and the South American Republics had interests and ideals that were peculiarly their own, that their political systems and national aspira- tions were. different from those of the Old World, and that the Old World must never be permitted to supplant these systems and aspirations with their own. That doctrine was set forth just one hundred years ago; the present gathering at Santiago is therefore a significant centennial. The century that has passed has demonstrated its essential

NuMBER |
OF EVENTS
truth. Both the Americas have their own problems; yet from most of the deeply lying political vices of the Old World they are free. Their territories are not the prey of dynastic rivalries. There have been few cases where the different states have sought aggrandize- ment at the expense of their neighbors. They are not lands of great standing armies. Wars between them have been exceedingly rare. Domestic broils and revolutions have been common enough, yet in only a few instances have the nations themselves resolved their difficulties by force of arms. The fundamen- tal reason is that the states of the two Americas have in their very organization eliminated the great causes of war—dynastic rivalries, uncertain and shifting boundaries, racial antagonisms, economic encroachments, imperialistic ambitions. Both North and South America are free from these explosive forces, and that fact, despite the many other short- comings, represents an incalculable advantage.
A considerable part of South America joined hands with the United States in the war that was devoted to the promotion of these ideals. One result of that war has been an attempt to reorganize Europe with these ideals as the foundation. Thus the Monroe Doctrine, starting in America, has turned eastward to Europe itself. Under these circumstances no more happy year than 1923 could have been selected for another of those periodic conferences which have done so much to make harmonious the relations of the United States and its southern neighbors.

Photograph by Mr. Lyonde
DR. F. G. BANTING
The Toronto professor whose development of “ Insulin”’ as a treatment for diabetes is one of the most important of recent developments in medicine

GEORGE DE BOTHEZAT
Inventor of the Bothezat helicopter which has recently made several successful flights at Dayton, Ohio. Since 1918 Dr. de Bothezat has been employed by the United States Government as an expert in acronautics

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: -_ x © Harris & Ewing FRANK T. HINES
The new head of the Veterans Bureau which has control of the many intricate problems affecting the former service men

© Eric Stahlberg
ADA LOUISE COMSTOCK
Recently elected President of Radcliffe College. Miss Comstock was formerly Dean of Women at the University of Minnesota and later was Dean of Smith College

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THOMAS STECKHAM BAKER lhe newly elected President of the Carnegie Institute of Technology. Since 1919 Dr. Baker has been secretarv of the same institution

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The March
On “Going In” or “Staying Out.”
HE next six months promise to be especially momentous in the history of the United States. The adjournment of Congress provides a fortunate interlude during which the popular mind can digest the many facts and opinions that have been presented to it in the last four years. The proposed speaking tour of President Harding will naturally focus attention upon the over- whelming question of “ going in”’ or of “stay- ing out;”’ the debate, now reaching consider- able proportions, on the wisdom of American participation in the High Court of Justice, will exhibit the great controversy in a new light ;and the visits of distinguished foreigners, such as Lord Robert Cecil, will once more im- press the American people with the important part they can play in salvaging mankind. It is to be hoped that, by the time Congress as- sembles again, public opinion will have crys- tallized in sufficiently emphatic form to give direction to the Washington programme. The time has thus come for sober reflection. The facts in the world situation are sufficiently well known. The possible points of view have been abundantly canvassed. The one great purpose which the French invasion of Germany has accomplished is to proclaim the choice which now lies at the discretion of the civilized world. Is history to retrograde and the status that prevailed before 1914 again to control Europe or is the new idea to dominate? Is force still to be the determining fact in the relation of nations or is something in the nature of law and justice to obtain at least a certain influence? France, failing of sympathetic coéperation with Great Britain and the United States, has staked her future security upon force. Under existing condi- tions, that was her only recourse; her recent acts are entirely logical and entirely justified. The Ruhr Valley and Germany’s great econo- mic and industrial power in her hands, al- liances or understandings of various shades with Belgium, Italy, Poland, and other na- tions—only in such ways as this does France see any way of protecting herself from Ger- man assaults. But all this is the statesmanship of the discredited past. Precisely how it will end no man can foresee; that the result will be wars more horrible than the recent one, with the not improbable crumbling of European civili- zation, is the one fact that is perfectly clear.
of Events )
The key to this problem, as always, rests with the United States. The latest man to bring this truth home to Americans is Lord Robert Cecil. The business of the Harding Administration is to formulate some definite policy, present it to the public in effective form, and then to sink or swim on that policy. There is no political profit, as there is no satisfaction of patriotism, in a course of indecision. The history of the Harding Administration in itself proves that point. Its greatest moment was reached when Mr. Hughes stood upright before the assembled statesmen of the world and proclaimed, in the most concrete terms, the American policy
on the limitation of naval armament. This proceeding was notajle for two reasons. The
policy was boldly conceived and boldly an- nounced; it signalized leadership on a high plane; there had been no preliminary “feelers,’’ no sounding out of public sentiment, no closet consultations with Senators, journalists, or leaders of any kind. Lord Balfour publicly said that he knew nothing of the announce- ment until it was made, and the ignorance of the American public was the same. The impressive fact is that Americans everywhere acclaimed the Hughes statement not only for its inherent wisdom but for the way in which it was sent broadcast. What they admire above all in a public man is aggressive leader- ship; that is what they admired in Lincoln, Cleveland, and Roosevelt. In a mass the popular voice immediately accepted this leadership and made the newnaval programme a reality.
The second significant point is that this great success was in the field of foreign policy. The Administration held its highest position in the eyes of the people when it displayed a statesmanlike interest in the future of Europe and Asia. It was apparent that Americans were not so callous and ignorant on foreign affairs as it is customary to portray them.
The Root of the European Problem
NE picture suggested by Mr. R. M. Bryan, in a speech before the Chicago Council of Foreign Relations, might profitably be burned into the consciousness of thosé who are now glibly discussing the European problem, and displaying in the process an increasing sympathy for Ger- many. Mr. Bryan, who is the Eastern

10 | The World’s Work
manager of The Black Diamond and a rec- ognized authority on coal mining, has recently made a professional investigation of the ruined industrial and mining districts of France. To bring home to Americans a realization of the destruction Germany ’ wrought, and for which she promised to pay— a promise which she has persistently ignored— Mr. Bryan describes precisely what a similar invasion could do to the United States: “To appreciate properly what German destruction cost France, one must vis- ualize. The mere statement of the de- struction of three hundred thousand houses means nothing to the average person. That 4,000,000 people were rendered home- less means little more, because we have so many millions of homes and of people. So, to place before you the picture as | saw it when | first visited the devastated area in 1920, | would say that to appreciate what it would have meant to the United States if Germany had invaded

R. M. BRYAN
departments are similar to our large counties. They are, of course, or were, more densely populated.)
“Ninety-four per cent. of her wood pro- duction.
“Seventy per cent. of her sugar produc- tion.
“Fifty-five per cent. of her electric energy.
“Thirty-three per cent. of her coal produc- tion.
‘4,630 kilometers, or nearly 3,000 miles, of railroads.
‘Houses totally de- stroyed, 289,000; partly destroyed, 422,000.
“Roads in need of repair, 53,830 kilo- meters, or nearly 34,000 miles.
“Industrial lishments 4,084.
“Farm lands de- stroyed, 3,000,000 hectares, or 7,500,000 acres.
“To rebuild this de- vastated area, France, up to the first of this year, had spent of her own funds, approxi- mately 100,000,000,- ooo francs, or around $8,000,000,000. She
estab- destroyed
us, and had inflicted like destruction to our industries in compar-
Who, after a close survey of the damage done to France
by the War, likens it to the destruction of every mine,
every mill, every home in the United States east of a line connecting Erie, Pa., and Charleston, S. C.
has much more than this sum yet to spend before the country will

ison to oursize and the extent of our industries, one should take a map of the United States and draw a line from the city of Erie, Pa., on the Great Lakes, to Charleston, S. C., on the Atlantic, and consider that every mine, every mill, every industry of every kind, every home, east of that line, was not only destroyed, but, in effect, pulverized. That would, | believe, represent a fair picture of the suffering to the individual, and to industry, and to agriculture, that the German invasion cost France. It is this economic destruction that the pacifists in our country to-day would have us forget. “In detail, German invasion cost France: “Seven devastated departments. (These
be placed in the same position that it occupied prior tothe war. And to date the total cash that she has received from Germany is less than a half-billion dol- lars. Payments in kind have reached a value of about $400,000,000.
‘This sum, less than a tenth of what France has raised from her own people, as a four year’s payment by Germany, seems trifling when it is considered that three German industrialists alone have been able during the same period to sequester in foreign coun- tries, far from the German tax collector, and far removed from confiscation, a sum said to exceed one billion dollars.”
These are the basic facts that underlie

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The March
European politics and explain present French policies. [It would be a serious mistake in our thinking to get ourselves far removed from them. Imagine the United States a barren waste in the whole area east of a line drawn from Erie, Pennsylvania, to Charleston, South Carolina! When one has made a complete mental picture of such destruction, and thoroughly analyzed what it would mean to the present and future of the United States, one will have the appropriate background for discussing French policies. The one hope animating the French mind is to create a situation that will make impossible the rep- etition of such a horror. The Frenchman knows that the calamities which wouid follow another invasion would be infinitely more terrible than those catalogued above. The French hope to make such an invasion im- possible. No worthier motive would inspire a nation. That France may make mis- takes, that she may adopt a course that can- not end in success, that her acts may at times make her best friends grieve—all this is true; but at the same time it ts not surpris-
of Events 11
ing. If American Congressmen and Senators and American editors and publicists could constantly keep in mind the map which Mr. Bryan has drawn, current discussions of the European situation would be more enlighten- ing than is-invariably the case at present.
Facts About American Foreign Trade
HERE has never been a time when
foreign trade figured so extensively in
American politics as now, and for this reason the facts on “Our World Trade,”’ re- cently compiled and published by the United States Chamber of Commerce, have a particular importance. That America’s ex- panding trade necessarily brings the country into close political contact with the world is the argument that figures conspicuously in present discussions of American foreign policy. Precisely what does this trade amount to? What elements in our population does it chiefly concern? With what nations does our foreign trade bring us most intimately in contact? A little primer on these points


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IF DEVASTATED FRANCE WERE AMERICA If the United States had had the same proportion of its area destroyed as France has had, all the country east of the line drawn from Erie, Pa., to Charleston, S. C., would be our devastated district, and with it would have gone the most important of our manufactures
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12 The World’s Work
is necessary to correct international think- ing.
The most important fact brought to light is that the greatest single element in our exports to-day is the item known as “ manu- factures ready for consumption.” These comprise something more than 35 per cent. of the materials which Americans send abroad. That the largest item in our imports is “crude materials for use in manufacturing,’’ which amount to 35.9 per cent. of the whole is a detail similarly enlightening. This compila- tion brings out again the fundamental change that is taking place not only in American trade, but in American social and industrial life. It is all a part of that general prospect which is emphasized by the census figures, showing, for the first time, that the city popu- lation of the United States is greater than the rural. We have ceased to be a nation which drew its economic strength from its great exports of foodstuffs and raw materials. This circumstance had inspired recently many melancholy disquisitions on the future of the United States. The fate that overwhelms a nation in which the urban population is greater than the rural is constantly held up as a warning. In all this there is a good deal of bad historv and of worse economics. The fact is that there is no decay in American agriculture; the products of our farms are growing larger vear by year—a circumstance which is brought out by the statistical survey under review. These products are needed, in constantly increasing amount, to feed our growing population. Long before the war, the statisticians could foresee the day when the United States would not be able to feed its own people and would. become a food im- porting nation; that time is probably con- siderably in the distance, and, until it comes measurably within realization there will be no occasion for mournful disquisitions on the decline of agriculture.
Though manufactured articles are now the largest part of our export trade, only an ex- ceedingly small part of the output is sent abroad. The proportion seems to be some- where between. two and three per cent. In the year 1921 American manufactures reached the great total of $62,000,000,000, and, of these, only about $1,623,000,000 was exported. The fact that the single largest item in exported manufactures is the auto- mobile, and that only $70,000,000 out of a
total product of $2,000,000,000 leaves American shores—about 33 per cent.—forces home the same lesson. Other exported articles—cotton cloth, cotton wearing apparel, silk fabrics, silk wearing apparel, wool wearing apparel, agricultural machinery and implements, textile machinery, and railway cars and locomotives, while profitable and increasing in amount, really represent a small fraction of those pro- duced. As in the case of its agricultural wealth, the United States is herself consum- ing the great mass of the things produced. The country is still economically sufficient to a great extent; we are constantly producing and selling among ourselves; the market is an extremely active one, and the most desirable in the world.
While the produce of American farms as a whole no longer occupies chief place among American exports, the largest items in our exports are still agricultural. Unmanu- factured cotton, which leads, makes up nearly 15 per cent. of the materials sent abroad. Wheat, corn, and leaf tobacco are all more important in value than any one single output of our factories. The proportion the value of agricultural exports bear to agricultural prod- ucts is not given in this study, but from numer- ous other sources it appears to be about 15 per cent. The bearing of these facts, so far as international politics is concerned, becomes at once apparent; it is a truth which is rapidly having its effect in the thinking of the agricul- tural classes. This is that the farmers are far more dependent upon the foreign market than are the manufacturers. The Mississippi Valley is a much nearer neighbor to Europe, economically speaking, than is the Atlantic Seacoast. The loss of the foreign market would not be a particular calamity to the man- ufacturers of automobiles and locomotives, but it would be an extremely serious thing for our cotton and wheat growers. “Abroad”’ does not mean a great deal to the steel mills of the Pittsburgh region, but it means life and death to the rural population, for 15 per cent. of a man’s business comprises that surplus which implies the success or the failure of his enterprise.
These figures show—and it is perhaps their most important lesson—the lines along which our national interests run. What are the countries with which the United States chiefly trades? On this point there is a vast amount of misapprehension. For some rea-


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The March
son South America and Asia figure chiefly in most discussions of foreign trade, perhaps for the very fact that the possibilities of these markets lie in the future. At the present time they are not especially important. Europe takes 53.9 per cent. of our exports, and North America 23.0—a total of 76.18; while the whole of Asia takes 12.1 and the whole of South America only 5.9. The situation is worthy of more de- tailed analysis. “ Eu- rope,’ means chiefly Great Britain; “ North America’’ means chiefly Canada. To- vether these two coun- tries take 35 per cent. of our exports, while France takes 6 per cent., Japan 5 per cent., and Italy 3 per cent. Inthe matter of imports Canada leads with 11.3, Japan comes next—silk and silk goods—with 11. and Great Britain with io. It is apparent, therefore, that our in- terests are closely bound up with Europe and Canada, and, above all, with Great Britain and the great Dominion to the North.
HERBERT
has justified itself as
The Next Step in Budget Reform
HE latest session of Congress was both
encouraging and discouraging in the
matter of Budget Reform. Its en- couraging aspect was the demonstration of the savings which can be accomplished by the Budget system, when sincerely supported by the Administration and when ably executed by such conscientious and able directors as Gen- erals Dawes and Lord. The Budget has justified itself by the highest of all tests; it has instituted economies in all directions and has actually cut down the expenses of government. On July 1, 1922, the Federal Government anticipated a deficit for the coming fiscal year of $822,000,000. The present indica- tions, according to a recent statement by

M, LORD
Director of the Budget, a governmental department that an agency to decrease expenses
of Events 13
President Harding, is that this will be cut to $92,000,000. It is true that a later estimate of the Budget Director increases this deficit to $180,000,000, owing to the likelihood that Great Britain will exercise its option of paying the interest on its debt in Liberty Bonds in- stead of gold, yet even this amount is several hundred millions lower than the deficit antic- ipated at the begin- ningof the year. Pres-
ident Harding and General Lord do not
attribute this improve- ment in national finances entirely to the Budget, yet the record discloses that this has been an important in- fluence. Economies have been made to the extent of $321,000,000 and government re- ceipts have increased to the extent of $408,- 000,000. Increased prosperity, evidenced in steadily climbing tax receipts, thus ex- plains something more than half of the im- provement in the Fed- eral balance sheet, yet the decrease in expenditures, which is the re- sult of a saner method of making appropria- tions, is a consideration of the utmost impor- tance. The fact that $321,000,000 has thus been saved is the best possible evidence of the success of the Budget system. After this practical demonstration, there can be no slump back into the old hit-or-miss system. Yet Congress, in the final reckoning, again demonstrates that the reform was not com- plete. One of the main reasons-for adopting the Budget was the fact that this method of regulating appropriations offered the most effective way of abolishing the Pork Barrel. But the recent session proved that the present Budget system does not necessarily accom- plish that reform. Congress added to the War Department Bill appropriations of more than $28,000,000 for the so-called improve- ment of Rivers and Harbors. All well in- formed people know, without studying this
© Harris & Ewing


14 The World’s Work
particular appropriation, precisely what the whole thing means. Primarily the purpose is not to improve Rivers and Harbors; the purpose is to distribute public monies in the favored districts, and thereby add to the local prestige and political ambitions of the Congressmen responsible for them. The improvement of rivers and harbors is a desir- able Federal function, but the communities and Congressmen are not the appropriate authorities to stipulate what particular rivers and harbors shall be “improved.”’ That should be the responsibility of the Federal department which has the work in charge. Under a scientific budget system the War Department, after honest investigation, should put in its appropriation bill the neces- sary items. That is the function of the executive department. The duty of the law- making body is to decide whether it can af- ford to spend this money for the purposes indicated, or a part of it; it may properly reject items, or decrease them; but it cannot

WILLIAM M. TWEED
Formerly head of Tammany Hall, the Democratic
political ring that controlled New York City politics,
who typifies municipal corruption in its most shameless
form. This type of boss has disappeared from Amer- ican municipal politics
properly add items of its own, for in so doing it is encroaching upon a field in which it is entirely ignorant. To take this latter course is to violate the whole Budget conception and this is precisely what the House and Senate did when they added, entirely on their own responsibility, and in defiance of the rec- ommendations of experienced engineers, $28,000,000 to the War appropriations. And the motive was as bad as the act itself, for the motive was purely political, the desire to acquire favor with the constituencies by distributions of largess from the _ public treasury.
This does not mean that the present Budget system is a failure: it merely means that it is incomplete. It forms a splendid base upon which a perfected method of spending the public money may be constructed. One remedy for the ‘‘pork-barrel”’ evil is a new law giving the President authority to veto separate items in an appropriation bill. Most states that have adopted Budget systems have given the Governor this power. President Harding, had his hands been free, would unquestionably have saved the country this $28,000,000; to do so, however, he would have been obliged to veto the whole army appro- priation bill and thus have left the War De- partment without funds for the ensuing year. The power to veto separate items would have saved him from this dilemma.
Sometime, through the slow process of the years, we shall probably solve this problem as have other enlightened countries. Great Britain established its Budget system, after which other nations have modeled theirs, when Parliament, in 1713, adopted a simple new rule of procedure. This provided that no grant of public money should be made except on the recommendation of a minister of the crown. No private member of Parliament can introduce a bill carrying an appropriation.~ That is the duty of responsible ministers. Parliament may vote the money asked for, it may refuse to vote it, it may reduce the amount asked for; the thing it cannot do is to add new items of its own, or to increase ap- propriations. The Constitution of the Con- federate States contained a similar provision. Such an arrangement is essential to the com- plete working of the Budget system, but it will probably be some time before Congress reaches a height of self-abnegation that will result in the adoption of such a rule. Some-

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The March of Events 15
thing should be done, however, to make im- possible such legislative travesties as River and Harbor measures tacked on, at the last moment, to general appropriation bills.
Municipal Government—Its Improve- ment in a Quarter of a Century
HAT progress has been made in American municipal government in the last twenty-five years? The
Citizens Union of New York has recently ob- served the quarter century of its existence, and, in connection with this anniversary, has published a pamphlet recounting the political history of New York during that period. The story is an exceedingly interesting one and does not lack encouraging features. If the experience of New York may be taken as typical of all American urban communities, the tone of municipal government in America has distinctly improved. The famous in- dictment of Bryce, in his “American Com- monwealth,”’ that the government of cities represented the “one conspicuous failure” of the American system is by no means so true now as when it was written. The transfor- mation is not yet complete; but New York politically is a far different place than it was twenty-five years ago. “It is not likely,” says this report, which is written by Mr. Walter T. Arndt, “that we shall ever see an- other Tweed—or even another Croker. The vicious element has learned its lesson. So, too, have the reformers.”
Indeed, if we really wish to understand the steady betterment in the government of American cities we should begin our survey fifty years ago, and take William M. Tweed as the starting point. For Tweed illustrated municipal corruption in its most shameless and most highwaymanlike aspect. The Tammany Hall of that period was not inap- propriately known as “The Forty Thieves”’; its method was not the method of graft; it was simply that of plunder—of direct stealing. Money was lifted from the city treasury by
) the millions and grotesquely transparent at-
tempts made to conceal the thefts by falsify- ing the books. By the time Mr. Richard Croker had acceded to the Tammany temple, however, these pioneer methods of robbing
) the city treasury had changed. The history
of Tammany Hall under the Croker régime is indelibly contained in the two investigations

nid

RICHARD CROKER Whose influence in the Tammany ring was of a type
that no longer exists. The methods of his régime were
somewhat more refined than those of Tweed, but the
present finds itself happily largely rid of both types of boss, and further signs of improvement are in sight
made—one in 1893, and one in 1899—the first immortalized as the Lexow Inquiry and the second as the Mazet. The régime of blackmail had now succeeded to the régime of loot. The more refined method was to use the city departments as machinery with which to extract tribute from the violators of the law. Though most departments were made to serve this purpose, the Police Depart- ment was the most extensive producer of illegitimate revenue. A great city like New York contains thousands of persons who wish to earn a living by methods that are pro- hibited by the criminal law; such as gam- blers, prostitutes, thieves, jerry-builders, dis- honest contractors, and a multitude of others. The new method of corruption consisted in permitting such evil-doers to break the law provided they paid the politicians a percent- age of their profits. This was technically known as “protection.” Illicit revenue was obtained on a large scale in other ways—



16
franchise grants to corporations, sales to the city of real estate and other property at ex- cessive prices, renting of dock and other privileges to favored tenants on absurdly low terms. The student of morals can properly appraise the spiritual improvement which these methods of “protection”’ and “honest graft’? represented over the old practices of unabashed plunder; they did represent, how- ever, a growing appre- ciation of the proprie- ties of civilization; they were another manifestation of that hypocrisy which is the tribute that vice pays to virtue, for they re- cognized the fact that corruption must now be indirect, invidious, stealthy.
The political history of New York for the last quarter century represents an attempt to destroy these meth- ods—to extinguish “protection,”’ “ honest graft,” franchise mon- gering, dishonest con- tracts and the like. To a considerable ex- tent the battle has been won. Tammany Hall, vicious an insti- tution as it still is, is not the Tammany Hall of Tweed and Croker.
and blackmail.

JOHN F. The present mayor of New York, whose administration, while open to many criticisms, is not founded upon graft Individuals may occasionally still play the old game, but the day of organized corruption is
The World’s Work
Tammany Hall. At the end of Mr. Hylan’s first term his Republican opponents started an investigation of the city departments in the famous old Lexow manner. It was evi- dently their expectation, and possibly their hope, that they would succeed in demonstrat- ing that the old Tammany evils of “ protec- tion’’ and “honest graft’’ were still prevalent. The attempt was a failure; a few equivocal facts were turned up, but the real result of the investigation was to prove that the old régime of violence, of levying blackmail upon the vicious ele- ments of the com- munity, had prac- tically passed away. That offenses of this sort are committed constantly is doubtless the fact; but the dif- ference is that whereas before they were de- tails of one vast system of corruption and blackmail they are now more or _ less sporadic misdemean- ors of individuals. All this does not mean that the municipal problem of New York and other great Amer- ican cities is solved. The greatest vice from which the com-
HYLAN
over
In fact, in the last
quarter century, Tammany Hall has _ held undisputed sway over the city for only four years ;—that was the first four years covered in this survey, from 1898 to 1902, the administration of the late Robert A. Van Wyck. For ten of the last twenty-five years administrations controlling the city have been anti-lammany in their influence and for the remaining time the forces controlling city government have been more or less divided in their allegiance to the Democratic headquarters in Fourteenth Street. The pres- ent government of New York is not one of which the city can be particularly proud, but its evils are very different from those which afflicted the community in the heyday of

munity now suffers is that of an ignorant and vulgar demagogism and of an extremely avaricious partisanship. But while these are evils of a positive kind, they are far different from those which have assailed the community in the past. It is impossible to read this record of twenty-five years without a feeling of encouragement and of a renewed interest in meeting the dangers that still threaten the greatest of American cities.
“America’s Race Heritage”
ORE and more the fact is becoming apparent that the most pressing question in American life is not rep-
arations or the readjustment of American

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The March of Fvents 7
relations with Europe, but immigration. It is the most important subject because it is the most fundamental. The part that America is to play in the reorganization of mankind and in introducing new conceptions into the prog- ress of the race, becomes more emphasized every year, and, to fulfil this rdle, the United States needs all its finest energies. That this country has been able to render great services in recent years is ex-
plained by the cir- ———
cumstance that, in the centuries of American history, its people

CENSUS OF| PER
furnishes an indispensable basis for the study of the immigration question. It is a careful statistical analysis of the contributions which the several countries have made to the peopling of our forty-eight states. It begins with the settlement of Jamestown in 1607 and ends with the arrival of almost the latest immigrant ship at Ellis Island.
Mr. Burr’s first summary is that for 1790 —a year after the founding of the Nation in its present form. His table, shown at the left of the racial stocks
DESCEND- | ANTS IN 1920 | (Estimate




RACIAL STOCK | — 1790 CENT. | on basis of
have developed a | 1790 per- Making up our popu- character, a purpose, | centages) lation then settles a capacity for using ——|——— en many questions that their resources which English-Welsh. | 2,605,699 | 81.7 | 36,511,140 are q subject of racial have reached their Scotch (mostly | propaganda now.
most complete expres- an cs | 221,562 | 7.0 178,757 Mr. Burr selects as sion at a time when Protestants). | 61,534 1.9 ——- his first period of im- the world most needed Gorman (mostly | migration the seventy them. And we must Protestants) | 176,407 5.6 | 2,502,600 Years from 1790 to alwaysremember that Dutch. |. | | 78,959 2.5 1,117,232 1860. At the present the basic sources of French (mostly | time there are 10,144,- American power and Huguenot) . | 17,619 0.6 268,136 955 Americans living wealth are not the Others. . ./| 10,664| 0.3 17,876 who are either surviv- mines, the fertile en ’ eR Gaeineraaae peat -o ing immigrants of prairies, the forests, Vamaes |. | 3.17908 oo 44,689,278 that era or the de-

the water courses and
the natural advantages upon which foreign commentators are likely to lay chief emphasis; the final explanation is the quality of people that have made the Nation.
Any pertinent study of the immigration problem must therefore begin with this ques- tion: What are the races which laid the foundation of the United States and which explain the unparalleled progress made in the Nineteenth Century? Upon this subject there is much loose statement abroad at the present time. An expression coined some years ago by Mr. Israel Zangwill, “The Melting Pot,” is responsible for much mis- apprehension. Even English writers usually begin their disquisitions by informing their readers that the United States is not homo- geneous in its population—that it is a be- wildering mélange of foreign races and foreign tongues, with no one strain that can be called “dominant.” It is for this reason that a modest little volume by Mr. Clinton Stoddard Burr, “America’s Race Heritage,’’ has per- formed a valuable service in clearing away this misconception. This book in_ itself
scendants of such im- migrants. Their racial origin is as follows:
English . . — 4,410,197 Scotch, Scotch-Irish, Welsh 602,545 A Sr a ee ee eee 3,079,032 German, Austrian, Swiss, Balto-
German ae Soe oh 1,130,587 BE text ol e-e og, G2 408,926 SCONGUNAVIAR 2 35,370 Dutch, Flemish, Frisian. . : 31,292 Italian (mostly north) oe 20,000 Jews (mostly Spanish or German) 375,000 Mexican (white) . . . . . . 12,000
10,104,055 The most significant feature of this table is that America’s greatest gain from immigra- tion, up to the time of the Civil War, was English. So much emphasis is laid, in all discussions of immigration, on the exodus that took place in the ’forties and ’fifties from Ireland and Germany, that another fact usually escapes observation: that is that the departures from England itself in the same period were greater than from either of these countries.


18
The modern period of immigration is that from 1860 to 1920. In this sixty years the immigrants from Ireland were slightly more numerous than those from England, and those from Germany much more so. Mr. Burr presents the following table, showing the contributions of this “old immigrant stock”’ of the modern period to the population of the United States in 1920.
0 Se ee 4,075,302 Scotch, Scotch-Irish, Welsh 1,929,663 Irish (Celtic) 4,605 ,463 German, Swiss, Austrian 9,166,055 Scandinavian, Icelandic 3,284,354 Dutch, Frisian, Flemish . . . . 460,572 French, French-Canadian, Walloon, Breton .
1,525,553

25,046,962
What then are the elements that make up the American white population to-day? Mr. Burr presents tables which study the subject from all aspects, but his final summary
showing the “ancestral stock’ for 1920 will suffice:
English . .. 45,540,139 Other Anglo-Saxo 5,584,714 Irish . 8,553,591 German 12,806,242 Frnach . . . 3,168,615 Dutch, Flemish . 1,609,096 Scandinavian 3,455,922 Slav Soctttei bon: 1 3,993,076 Latin (except French) 3,723,051 Jewish 3,250,000
(Races with a contribution less than 1,000,000 omitted from tabulation above)
Of the 95,000,000 white people in the United States at present, therefore, 45,500,000 are of English descent. The present popula- tion of England is about 32,500,000; in other words, there are 13,000,000 more people of English origin in the United States than in England itself. But this is not the most pertinent fact brought out by Mr. Burr’s exhaustive researches. From the broad standpoint of ethnology Englishmen, Scotch- men, Irishmen, Germans, French (at least northern French) Dutch and Scandinavians form a compact, homogeneous race. _ Differ- ing as they may in language and religion, we do not have to go back many ages in history to find them all members of the same ethnic
Tne World’s Work
family. Between their descendants to-day there is really no consciousness of racial dissimilarities or antagonisms. There are differences, of course, between an English- man, a Scotchman, an Irishman and a German; but the differences are not deep- lying; they are rather artificial, the product of external circumstances; the distinctions do not reside in the germ-plasm, and there are no essential bars to the amalgamation of all these strains into an integrated people. Coms- pared with the Mediterranean and Oriental races the English, Scotch, Irish, German and Scandinavians are ethnic brothers. Probably the most stimulating fact brought cut by Mr. Burr is that this group makes up eighty per cent. of the American population to-day. He thus shows that America is not a hopeless mixture of alien peoples; but that the over- whelming majority of our population belongs to a single racial group—and that a group which stands in the forefront of civilization. So long as the proportion is maintained as it is, there is no danger of that “mongreliza- tion” which has caused the decay of so many nations. A people made up of the mingling of English, Scotch, Irish, Germans, and Scandinavians will not be a “mongrel race” but one that is of pure and homogenous stock. This then, is “America’s race heritage’; it is a noble one, and its preservation is the greatest obligation that rests upon the American Nation.
What the Railroads are Worth
FTER nearly nine years of work by its Bureau of Valuation and the expendi-
ture of more than seventy-five million dollars (of which the railroads furnished fifty-four million) the Interstate Commerce Commission has announced tentative valua- tions for thirty-eight American railroad systems, comprising a little less than one- third of the railroad mileage of the country. These valuations are made at pre-war costs and values, and additions made since are in- cluded at cost, less depreciation. Less than 10 per cent. of the total is for land values. The tentative figures for thirty-eight sys- tems compare with their funded debt and outstanding stocks as follows:
Total valuation..... $6,993,348,099 Funded debt........ 3,557,777,990




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The March of Events 19
Equity for stock..... $3,435,570, 103


Preferred stock...... 590,566,631 Equity for common ae ae ae $3,845,003,472 Common stock...... 2,103,609,488 Value above total cap- MansAtION........ $741,393,9084
The “water”’ that existed in the capitaliza- tion of our railroads years ago has been pretty thoroughly squeezed out by repeated re- organizations, and expenditures that have been made by some roads and not capitalized have brought total property values above the amount of outstanding securities. The Inter- state Commerce Commission, of course, paid no attention to security issues in arriving at its valuations, but its findings are a justi- fication of the railroads’ capitalization in the aggregate, and they should make it possible for the Commission to treat the roads in the matter of rates under the new transportation law so that they can soon finance needed additions by the sale of a proper proportionate amount of stock and bonds. The public, when it knows it is not being asked to pay dividends on “watered” stocks, will be will- ing to see railroad credit reéstablished in order to make possible railroad growth.
“Watered Labor”
HE period of railroad construction in this country and of railroad and in- dustrial combination gave the phrase, “watered capital.” The period of high labor costs that has obtained during and since the war may give economic historians a companion phrase, that of “watered labor.” This phrase will not be so popular with those who still enjoy mouthing the other one even though repeated reorganizations have squeezed the “water” out of the capitaliza- tion of our railroads (so the Interstate Com- merce Commission now bears testimony) and many industrial combinations, like the Steel Corporation, have put earnings back into their properties until there is now no question that their assets equal capitalization. But with the inarticulate “middle class”, that has not profited by labor’s gain, and with the now articulate farmer, who has suffered because of it, it seems likely that the phrase “watered labor” might become popular. Business is going ahead at a good pace but the complaint of business men is that profits
are small. The railroads are carrying record traffic yet they are not earning the 53 per cent. on their valuation that Congress said they were entitled to. They are still suffer- © ing from the liberal treatment that labor enjoyed under government operation. There is also greater activity in building throughout the country than ever before but the unions have a strangle hold upon it that is sending building costs up again. Union rules re- garding the training of apprentices have created a scarcity in the ranks of skilled labor. In Chicago, for example, plasterers are getting as much as twenty dollars a day and the union exercises complete control over the supply. And the Federal immigration law limits the supply of unskilled labor. Builders see no prospect for change in these conditions and are going ahead in an effort to catch up with the country’s need for buildings.
If labor leaders are wise they will not press demands for higher wages at a time when one- third of our population is getting a dollar for its farm products that is worth only 69 cents when it comes to buying other things with it, and when our export trade is greatly reduced. But labor leaders are seldom wise except in their own selfish interest, and this recent experience was of such short duration that it left little impression on the minds of wage earners. It will take a longer period of un- employment to squeeze the “water” out of labor, and labor itself will hasten the arrival of that period if it makes extortionate de- mands on capital and the public. For only as long as higher labor costs can be passed on to the buyer, as in the building business, will capital continue to employ labor. As soon as the buyer withdraws from the market, capital will hasten to follow him, and labor will be left without work.
The economic welfare of the country calls for still further adjustments for the benefit of the farmer and others in like predicament. If labor persists in increasing the maladjustment, it will be the one to suffer most from the pro- cess of squeezing that will inevitably follow.
Marriage, Divorce, and the Federal e— Constitution
EVERAL public causes are now energeti- S cally competing for the honor of in- scribing themselves as the Twentieth Amendment to the Federal Constitution. The

20 The World’s Work
stimulating fact is that, in the last ten years, the American people have discovered that it is not so difficult to change their fundamental instrument as they had supposed; almost any well supported plan of reform, therefore, now automatically assumes the shape of a con- stitutional amendment. Child labor, the prohibition of injunctions in strikes, the “liberal’’ movement to clip the wings of the United States Supreme Court, the propos- al for a Federal Initiative and Referendum—- such are a few of the public causes that are now seeking to become the Twentieth Amendment. Perhaps the one that will enlist the largest public support, however, is that which is intended to give the Federal Government control over marriage and di- vorce.
Though there is ample justification for placing this most important of human re- lationships under Federal control, there is probably no one subject upori which there is so much loose discussion. The familiar statistics are again forming the basis for much bewailing of the decadence of American morals. About 115,000 divorces are granted in the United States every year, and it seems to be true that the ratio of increase is con- siderably greater than the increase of the population. The deplorable truth is that about one in ten of American marriages is broken up by the courts. In 1906—which is apparently the most recent date for which comparative statistics are available—the United States granted 72,052 divorces, Aus- tria, 2,309, Germany, 12,180, France (1905) 13,098, and England and Wales 670. Evident- ly the per capita record for the United States is much higher than for these European coun- tries. Yet this fact furnishes no ground for statements widely made that domestic morals are more depraved in this country than in Europe, for common observation teaches quite the contrary. Who believes that the average American has a lower sense of the obligations of married life than the average Frenchman or German or Englishman? Who believes that the decencies of domesticity are better preserved in South America, where there is no divorce, than in the United States, where divorce is said to be “easy?” The idea is preposterous. What the statistics really indicate is the greater social and econo- mic independence of the American woman. In all the aspects of life she is a freer agent
than is her European sister, and therefore declines to submit to the indignities the European wife too commonly accepts as inevitable; she seeks an escape in divorce, not because she is more immoral, but because she is more self-respecting. Above all she is far more economically independent than the European woman; she has absolute control of her own property; she has plenty of op- portunities for earning her own living; she is therefore not obliged to endure an intolerable husband merely for the sake of support. Properly interpreted, the divorce statistics are not an evidence of a decadent civilization; it is even possible to maintain that they are quite the reverse.
There are, however, other reasons for Federal control of the marriage situation; chief of them is the necessity of uniformity in the marriage and divorce laws. At present there is a bewildering diversity. South Carolina does not grant divorces for any cause; New Hampshire acknowledges fourteen good excuses for breaking the marriage tie; New York grants divorces for one cause only— infidelity. The record discloses that there are thirty-five causes ‘recognized by the laws of the forty-eight states. The State of Washington tops the climax with a so-called omnibus law; this comprehensive measure specifies no partic- ular reasons for rupturing the marriage bond, but leaves it to the discretion of the judge in each case to decide whether the divorce is war- ranted. These varying laws produce the most deplorable complications. The same couple may be legally married in one state, but, by stepping into another, their marriage is immedi- ately transformed into an illicit relationship. Children who in one state are lawful sons and daughters of their parents are illegitimate under the laws of a neighboring community. The comic papers once related the story of a man who had traveled from the Atlantic to the Pacific, been married and divorced nine times, and found, at the end, that he had no wife upon whom he could depend for support. New York State, which grants divorces only for the violation of the marriage vow, always forbids the guilty party from contracting another alliance; yet this same guilty party can defy this prohibition merely by crossing the line into Connecticut or New Jersey. The status of such marriages in New York State is undefined. It is true that the Con- stitution contains a “full faith and credit”







The March of Events 21
clause, which is supposed to compel one state to recognize the validity of the legislative acts and judicial decisions of all the others—a clause which might seem to compel New York State to acknowledge the legal- itv of marriages which it had especially forbidden; vet at times New York has declined to apply the “faith and credit clause”’ in this sense.
This is the main evil which the proposed con- stitutional amendment would correct. Such an amendment, however, would not settle the di- vorce problem. It would merely precipitate the debate. It gives Con- gress the power to fix a



uniform divorce law, but makes no attempt to say
A SOUTHERN ‘“‘CROPPERS” FAMILY These people are examples of the most unfortunate of farmtenants. Their posses-
what this law shall be; sions are almost non-existent, and their livelihood is obtained by securing advances that is. it-does not fix the ftom the owner of the land they cultivate. At the harvest they divide the crop
causes of divorce. An
with the landlord, and pay with their portion for the advances received during the year. This process nets them about three dollars a week, and on this they com-
attempt to do this in monly raise their families. The system under which they work has the further Washington would prob- disadvantage of making them wanderers, who work on different patches of ground
ably provide the -apital
with one of the 1 »st animated discussions in its history. It *_ not likely that Bishop Man- ning, of the New York Diocese, and the Rev. Percy Stickney Grant, would agree upon a comprehensive divorce law. Yet a uniform divorce law there must be; there is no one single social reform which is so worthy of the attention of American lawmakers.
Max O’Rell, in his “Brother Jonathan,” represents the brakeman of an Ohio train, bawling out, as it came toa stop: “Columbus! Twenty minutes for divorce!’’ It is time to change the conditions that gave some justi- fication for this celebrated joke.
“Renters” and ‘‘Croppers” in the South
ELDOM has a University put forth a more pertinent social study than “ How Farm Tenants Live,” by J. A. Dickey
and E. C. Branson, just issued from the press of the University of North Carolina.
each vear
So much has been written, in somewhat im- pressionistic form, of the “hill-billie’’ and the “cracker,” that this first hand, scientific in- vestigation has the value of a real revelation. The fact that it comprehends only 51 tenant families living in Chatham County does not mean that it is not a perfect picture of farm tenancy inthe South. There are 317,000 souls in the families of white tenants in North Car- olina, and the picture given of these selected specimens ina single North Carolina County is accurately descriptive of them all. The fact that half the farmers of the South are tenants, not proprietors, is only one of the distressing facts brought to light; it discloses a type of tenancy that is peculiar to the South—that is, indeed, a product of conditions following the Civil War.
Farm tenancy is not uncommon in the North and in the West, but it is very different in its character from that of the South. The Western tenant is usually a man of capital,


22 The World’s Work
who hires a farm and operates it purely as a commercial transaction. He is, in a certain sense, a business man; one fifth the tenants of Chester County, Pennsylvania, possess capital ranging from $3,000 to $9,000 each, and one hundred tenants recently discovered in lowa were operating with capital ranging from $20,000 to $60,000 each. Nothing like this is found among the farm tenants of the South. “Tenancy in the South is not a matter of deliberate choice on the part of farmers with operating capital; it is a sad necessity on the part of moneyless men... . It is a social estate.’’ It is necessary first of all to revise current terminology. Tenants are divided into two classes, “renters”? and “croppers.”’ The “renters” have a certain resemblance to the “capitalistic’’ tenants of the North and East in that they possess something in the shape of stock in trade. They own their own farm tools, their cattle, their household goods; they can “run them- selves,’ as the phrase goes. They are them- selves separated into two classes, “kinsman renters’’—son, sons-in-law, nephews, and the like, who have been established on their farms by proprietor-relatives, and “self-help renters” who have only themscives to depend upon. These two classes form the economic and social cream of Southern farm tenants, though their condition in life is not especially rosy. The tenant that gives especial cause for anxiety is the “cropper,’’ a type of agricul- turist that is found only inthe South. Though the “cropper”’ has been a feature of Southern life since 1865, and though there are now about 225,000 in the Southern States, the word describing him has only recently found lodg- ment in the dictionary. The difference be- tween a “renter’’ and a “cropper,” lies in the fact that, whereas the first “runs him- self,’’ the latter is “run by his landlord.” He possesses no property and has no per- manent habitation. He is constantly on the move fromfarmtofarm. “It ain’t no trouble for me to move,” says the “cropper,” “I ain’t got nothing but er soap gourd and er string er red peppers. All | have ter do is call up Tige, spit in the fireplace and start down ther road.”” The cropper is as restless and as itinerant as the Wandering Jew; with his bedraggled family he goes from place to place, cultivating one farm after another on “halves.”” He supplies nothing except his labor and that of his wife and children; the
landlord furnishes everything else—land, dwelling, firewood, work stock, implements, pantry supplies, and even small advances of money. When the crop is gathered he gets half, and with deductions made for these advances,the landlord gets the rest. This is certainly a strange way to pick up a living, yet the most discouraging fact is that the “cropper” himself, though an object of anxi- ety to college professors and social reformers, is entirely satisfied with his own lot and man- ages to extract a considerable amount of pleasure from it.
The “cropper’s”’ self-satisfaction, however, is purely a manifestation of a sunny tempera- ment; it has no relation to circumstances, for the external conditions of his life are about as hard as can be found anywhere in this coun- try. “The croppers,” say the authors of this pamphlet, “are The Forgotten Men that Walter H. Page wrote about.” Their dwellings are wooden shanties, sometimes mere log houses. “In more than half of these dwell- ings it is possible to study astronomy through the holes in the roof and geology through the cracks in the door.” They have an illiteracy rate of 10 per cent.—much lower now than thirty years ago—their sanitary con- ditions are deplorable, their reading matter consists of an occasional weekly newspaper, patent medicines serve them in lieu of the doctor, their wives are hoe-hands in the fields, and their children are also set to work at seven or eight, boys and girls alike. The church and the Sunday school play little part in the cropper’s existence, though moon- shining and boot-legging are well developed occupations. His average money income is $153 a year; on this— less than $3 a week—he commonly suports a fair sized family.
About one fourth of all the white tenants in the South are “croppers.” Though the outlook for this sedimentary population is not hopeful, the condition of the other ten- ants—‘renters,’’ both ‘“‘self-helping’” and “kinsmen”’ assisting—is not so discouraging. These are not a degenerate race; the men are virile and industrious, and the women in- telligent and fecund; their homes are com- monly neat, though humble, and their farms are well cared for. Illiteracy prevails to a considerable degree, though the boys and girls frequently reach the high schooi grades. But the lot even of the “renters” is a hard one; how many Northern young
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The March of Events 23
men and women would care to marry on the prospect of a cash income of $20 a month, which is all that these Southern “renters” can look forward to? The improvement of their opportunities is one of the great problems facing the Southern States. They are good stock, they are sound morally and physically, they are intelligent and industrious, they contain the makings of that robust yeomanry which is the salvation of any country. What can be done for them? California has developed a system under which the state, by making properly safe- guarded loans to farmers, enables them to become proprietors. Apparently the plan is working well. Professor Branson believes that this idea, or some modification of it, can be applied in North Carolina and other Southern States.
American Work for American Children
[tier Americans who have close to their hearts the health of American boys and girls should be grateful for the
recent announcement that Herbert Hoover
has accepted_the presidency of the American
Child Health Association, an organization
which is to be devoted to the task of carrying
the doctrine of good health to children. And, what is of great importnace, is the news that the American Relief Administration, which is just completing eight years of child welfare work in Europe, will adapt to American life and conditions the knowledge gained in that effort.
The American Child Health Association is
a combined organization, with the American
Child Hygiene Association and the Child Health Organization of America as its com- ponents. Its purpose is to disseminate know-
ledge of the care of the child from the prenatal stage to maturity. So promising is the future under the plans now formulated that men and women child health advocates in all parts of the country, numbering thousands and comprising non-professional as well as professional workers, have endorsed the move- ment and are lending it active support. The Association plans to maintain a clearing house of sound and up-to-date in- formation on child health subjects, so that community organizations throughout the country will be able to keep in constant touch
with the most effective work on child health.
Such a service has been attempted before and was as successful as limited resources per- mitted it to be. Now, however, with the Association’s new organization and the vast knowledge acquired through years of ex- periment and experience, the work will be essayed on a scale unprecedented.
The viewpoint of the Association and its officers is that there can be no excuse for a condition which permits the deaths of 200,000 infants in this country each year, as well as the deaths of 20,000 mothers in childbirth, nor does the organization believe that there is any justification for the tragic condition of the school children of America, four million of whom are reported to be under- nourished. It has been contended by experts in child health that the death rate easily could be cut in half if local organizations made it their business to instruct mothers in the care of their sons and daughters, and that similar activity in the homes and schools would largely eradicate under-nourishment within a comparatively short time.
The fact that the Association is providing a central clearing house of information on child health subjects does not mean that it will seek in any sense of the word to domin- ate the work of the local bodies. To the contrary, that is far from being the purpose of the Association. The directors believe that with such a central bureau it will be possible, among other things, so to chart the entire country that each of the respective community bodies will coéperate with the others, hence making the experience of one available to all when similar problems arise. Likewise, with the local organizations using the clearing house as a source of infor- mation, it will be possible to direct speedily and clearly those individuals or organizations wishing to communicate with the child health workers in their respective communities.
As the bystander in the present world crisis, this country has had ample opportunity to witness the decline of nations and the effects of unrest and famine on millions of children. True, the gigantic operation for the salvaging of human bodies, as conducted by Americans in Russia and elsewhere in the last eight years, has relieved the intensity of the situa- tion somewhat. There is no doubt that mil- lions of children would have died except for this work. But these children of Central Europe and Russia were struck down by


24 The World’s Work
famine and disease and because they had been in the paths of contending armies. America can make no such answer when at- tention is called to the high infant mortality ate—not so high as in most civilized countries it is true, but still too high—and under- nourishment in this country. America has bountiful crops; sanitation has protected the country from many epidemics, and the soldier has not ground our fields. Conditions thus favor the development of the sturdiest and most effective people in the world. The point at which to begin is the child. This coérdinated effort wisely recognizes this fact, and it should receive the support of all Ameri- cans interested in the future of their country.
An Organization for Group Athletics
HE physical examinations carried on
under the draft act during the war
showed a distressing state of imperfec- tion in the young manhood of the Nation. About a third of the men between 18 and 45 were sufficiently defective to be excluded from military service. This means, of course, that on the average they carry on their peace time vocations less happily and fruitfully than if they were really well. The publication of these

facts shocked Americans for a few days. Everyone said that something should be done about this all-important matter. Then most everyone forgot this danger to the Republic along with a lot of others and went about their business or pleasure as before.
But one of the encouraging things about the American Democracy is that after the crowd has passed on to other subjects there is almost always some little group left with a determination to do something. There is such a group working now upon the improve- ment of the average health of the youth of the Nation. It is organized under the title “The National Amateur Athletic Federation of America.” It has the President of the United States as honorary president and several notables as honorary vice-presidents, so that all may know that it is a worthy organization. The executive committee consists of rep- resentatives of organizations which now affect the health of some parts of the com- munity, such as the Army, the Y. M. C. A., the Boy Scouts, and the like. [In other words, the organization’s primary purpose is to synchronize the efforts of all agencies now at work and fill in health programmes where no agencies now reach. The main idea at pres- ent is to teach everyone in the United States
AMATEUR GROUP ATHLETICS
The War brought out the unsuspected fact that a very large percentage of our people are physically handicapped, and
as a result the National Amateur Athletic Federation of America has been organized to promote healthful exercise in
order to decrease that percentage. Its purpose is to synchronize the efforts of all the agencies now working on the problem and to fill in health programmes where none now exist



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s 4 2 ¢ &
The March of Events 25
the value of outdoor exercise—of play for everybody. Any policy of this kind which reaches any stage of advancement will neces- sarily imply physical examinations for every- body and this in turn will mean health rec- ords. With the records based on the exami- nations to show what problems exist and campaigns of education and exercise organized to meet these problems, a great change might be comparatively easily accomplished.
But this will grow up slowly. At present any one who wants in- formation about group athletics or a pro- gramme for conduct- ing them, either for a town ora factory or a community oracounty can write to Mr. El- wood Brown of the National Amateur Athletic Federation of America, at 20 Broad Street, New York, and get help.
A New Museum for American Art
T A time when there is so much interest
in the artistic past of Egypt, there is a cer- tain satisfaction § in learning that America has an artistic record of its own, and that the Metropolitan Museum of New York is preparing to preserve it in an especially attractive form. In speaking of America’s artistic monuments one thinks of the Aztecs, the Mayas, the Incas, or the turquoise work of the Pueblo Indians, but the latest enterprise of this distinguished Museum comes nearer home. Mr. Robert W. de Forest and his wife have given $250,000 for the construction of a building to house the
artistic remnants of America in colonial times. It is too much the habit to regard the
pioneers of the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries as a rather uncouth lot, interested only in opening the wilderness, finding their chief relaxations in religion and an iron discipline. That these intrepid pioneers had

ROBERT W. DE FOREST
President of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, in New
York, who, with his wife, has recently presented the
Museum with $250,000 for the construction of an American Wing
a love of beauty and that their mental horizon was not limited by blue laws, is a point not so easily grasped. Yet any one who has roamed through Salem, or along the James River in Virginia, knows that this is the case; for these beautiful old houses necessarily reflect the artistic sense of the people who planned and built them. And architecture was not the only art in which they excelled. They made fine furniture, pewter and silver, ceramics. textiles, leatherwork, metal work. Of this phase of their develop- ment most Americans, even those interested in art and design, are extremely ignorant; the literature concern- ing it is scant and scattered; few collec- tors have made a point of assembling it. Our rich men have spent fortunes bringing to- gether artistic treas- ures from Europe, ig- noring the less spec- tacular but by no means completely negligible mementos of their own past. It is therefore welcome news that a great mu- seum, already im- mensely rich in the ac- cumulations of the ages, should erect one building which will house nothing except the finest artistic output of America’s childhood.
These pioneers were not eminent in the arts of painting and sculpture, but they were not vulgarians and they insisted on surrounding their domestic lives with objects that were refined in line, proportion, and decoration. The very building now being erected embodies this lesson. For many years the Metropoli- tan has been collecting rooms, facades, door- ways and panellings, many of which will be used in constructing its new American wing. One of the old buildings most admired in New York City, for example, was the United States Assay Office, which stood for many years at No. 15 Wall Street. This was originally a branch of the old United States


26 The World’s Work





THE METROPOLITAN
MUSEUM OF ART
Which has received a gift of $250,000 from Mr. and Mrs. Robert W. de Forest for the construction of a wing to house a collection of American Colonial art objects
Bank, of stormy history; it was removed some years ago to make way for a modern building. Mr. de Forest, however, succeeded in pre- serving the front, and this will now be re- constructed in the south fagade of his new Metropolitan wing. Rooms from many fam- ous colonial houses will similarly be incor- porated. Thus the American Building itself will be an example of that early American art which it seeks to perpetuate. For years the Metropolitan has been amassing treasures for which it now for the first time will have an adequate habitation.
Educating the Public in Fraudulent Stocks
N EDUCATIONAL campaign “to pro- vide a measure of protection’”’ for investors against fraudulent and worth-
less securities has been launched by the In- vestment Bankers’ Association of America. This magazine, which has carried on such a campaign for nearly twenty years and has long recognized the growing need for such education, might say that the investment bankers are slow in getting started in this field of service; this magazine, however, knows the wall of ignorance regarding investment conditions throughout the country that sur- rounded many of these houses and it appre- ciates the reasonable objections that had to be overcome among the members of this as-
sociation before such a campaign could be launched. It, therefore, has nothing but congratulations to offer to this great organiza- tion of our leading investment houses on the consummation of these plans of its publicity committee and other leaders.
Mr. Samuel O. Rice, formerly an editor of one of Senator Capper’s farm publications, has been engaged at an adequate salary as edu- cation director to conduct this campaign. He is a man well qualified for the work, and in his first announcement he displayed a becom- ing modesty regarding what is to be accom- plished and a thorough appreciation of the evil that he is to fight. When he said that undoubtedly the loss from fraudulent securities is one of the greatest economic wastes in America to-day, he expressed a truth that is well known to all those who have studied this matter. And when he said, “If the great army of uninformed investors can be taught to realize that the reputable investment house is highly specialized and has especially trained experts, whose judgment on investments is reliable and readily available, and if the un- informed investor will learn to seek out such houses, then this great economic problem is solved,’’ he suggested the remedy that has been in the minds of all those interested in bringing about the solution of this problem.
It is not only widows and those of little learning, but it is also business and profession- al men and farmers, men who are capable

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The March of Events

is) sJ
BEHIND THE SCENES IN A BROKER’S OFFICE Many bucket shops have all the appearances of reputable offices, and their equipment is often as complete as is that of
their honest neighbors.
The numerous telephones and telegraph instruments shown in this picture are no more
numerous than those that appear behind the plate glass partitions of many new bucket shops that are now once more putting in their appearance
of accumulating fortunes, who need education in the matter of investing theirsavings. They are the people among whom such education will bear early fruit. This campaign of the Investment Bankers’ Association which is planned to reach every class of citizen in the country, will bring immediate and continuing profits to the members of that Association. It will show that the investment resources of this country have as yet been unsounded. Already, since the war, with its great lessons in investment, small investors areabsorbing more securities than our comparatively few large investors did before the war. It is this larger field from which the investment houses will in the future draw the capital for the continu- ed development of the country. It is highly fitting and encouraging that they are starting an educational campaign in investment throughout this entire field.
Serving Depositors Beyond the Bank’s Doors
WOMAN in Newark, N. J., described as “a wealthy apartment house owner, ”’ in February fell into the clutches of one of the stock-selling, “reloading” houses similar to the Durrel Gregory organization
whose operations were exposed in the Febru- ary Wor_Lp’s Work. This house, T. Harri- son & Co., of 30 Broad Street, New York, was selling stock in The Trans-Atlantic Coal Company. Its members used assumed names over the telephone as did the salesmen of the Durrel Gregory organization and they prom- ised anything even to the delivery of 200 tons of coal to this woman during the coal shortage of last winter. She had “invested” $1,060 and was about to put up $1,000 more when her suspicions were aroused. With her attorney she went to the inspector in charge of the detective bureau of the New York police department and demanded im- mediate action. A squad of five men was detailed to go with her to the offices of T. Harrison & Co., where three men were ar- rested and held on her charge of grand larceny. “Mr. Larkin,’’» who was conducting the “reloading”’ in her case, was found to be Walter Gutterson, who, as “Sanford Tack,” had operated The Sanford Tack Company, a securities firm of 42 Broadway that had failed a short time previously. R. Harold Vexler, a brother-in-law of Gutterson, claimed to be the sole owner of T. Harrison & Co. There was no T. Harrison.
This case is not related to show how easily


The World’s Work




© Publishers Photo. Service THE PRESIDENTS PALACE IN SANTIAGO, CHILE
One of the many striking buildings in the beautiful city that is this year’s meeting place for the Pan-American Conference [See page 3]
such houses spring up or how quickly this resourceful wo- man brought about the downfall of this one. It is told to bring out the thing that first aroused her suspicions. She was withdrawing her money from a New- ark bank and it was when she went to draw out the second thousand that the cashier of that bank asked her about her contemplated invest- ment. When she told him about this coal company, he ad- vised her to begin an immediate investiga- tion before entrust- ing more of her money to the New York firm. It was by this interest in her affairs that he

© Harris & Ewing
HENRY P. FLETCHER Head of the American delegation to the Pan American Conference, at Santiago, Chile
performed a service for her that many other bankers might perform for their cli- ents if they would take the same per- sonal interest in their accounts and in their depositors’ financial affairs beyond the doors of the bank. The first step, of course, is to gain the confidence of the de- positor so that such help will be accepted in the right spirit, and the bank officer who attempts to render suchservice must not be discouraged by many failures. The second time such an effort is made to help him the depositor will be more ready to listen to the banker’s ad- vice.

1G a. vi






WATCH OUT FOR THE BUCKET SHOPS
Every month in this part of the magazine the Wor.pv’s Work prints an article on investments and the lessons to be learned therefrom
MONG the letters of inquiry that have come to the Readers’ Service Bureau of THE Wor.ip’s Work recently there have been more asking about a certain brokerage house in New York which specializes in the sale of securities on the partial-payment plan than about any other single house. The man at the head of this house once frankly acknowledged to a representative of this magazine that when they received orders for stocks that they did not have to deliver im- mediately (the purchases being on the partial- payment plan or on a margin) they did not always buy the stock at once unless it was a stock in which they were not familiar with the market. In other words, they would report to the client that the stocks had been pur- chased at the current market price, while they might not actually buy it until some time later and at a price lower than the client was paying for it, thus increasing the profits of the house. In financial terminology, they would “bucket” the order if they thought it to their financial advantage to do so. Whether this house is handling any of its business that way now or not it is impossible to say, but when an increasing number of inquiries begin to come in about houses of its general character or worse, and when one realizes that prices in the stock market are now higher than they have been for more than two years past, it seems time to raise the canger signals against the bucket shops. Investors must not think that all the houses of this character went out of business during the epidemic of brokerage-house failures last year. Those failures were caused mostly by the fact that the steady stock-market advance, which began in the summer of 1921, left no opportunities for houses that were “ bucket- ing” orders to “cover” their accounts, or, in other words, to buy the stocks due their clients at prices lower than the clients were paying them. This made it necessary or to the advantage of many of them to go into bankruptcy and thus avoid meeting their
commitments even if they could. The ablest bucket-shop managers, however, foresaw this advance and were not caught by it. They have continued in business. And recently there has been an influx of new houses of strange names in the financial district which, coming at the present high level of stock- market prices, makes one wonder if the rest of the bucket-shop operators, or some of those trained in their offices, are not resuming operations under new names.
Buildings in the Wall Street district which were left with large vacancies by the failures of last year could now lease all that space at high rentals if they were willing to take such temporary tenants again. There is evidence in the correspondence that comes to the Readers’ Service Bureau from all parts of the country that some of these buildings are apparently doing so.
The fly-by-night houses do not advertise or circularize much around New York. They do not want to attract the attention of the New York Stock Exchange authorities, nor do they want to have their clients so handy to their offices. But they do want a Wall Street address to impress the man at a dis- tance.
Recently an inquiry came from California inclosing an advertisement from a Pacific Coast paper of a broker located on Broad Street not far from the New York Stock Exchange. About the same time an inquiry came from Ohio regarding another brokerage house at the same address. An effort to get some information about these two un- known concerns disclosed the interesting fact that the mail for both of them was delivered to the same office in this building. This led to a further investigation which brought forth the information from one of the Wall Street investigating agencies that the man operating these two concerns, who was using his own name on the Pacific Coast and a different name with his Ohio prospects, had come to New York from Ohio where he had been arrested and fined twice for operating a bucket shop.


30 The World’s Work
It should be said that THE Wor.Lp’s Work does not conduct a financial investigating bureau as some of its readers seem to think. It tries to educate and influence its readers to do their buying and selling of securities through houses of established reputation and high standing in the financial field, such houses as are members of the leading organizations in that field, the standing of which is based on the care they use in selecting their members and, in the case of brokerage houses, on the control they exercise over the operations of them as well. Through such houses the public can conduct all legitimate investment and spec- ulative operations and there is no reason why it should go outside of such houses of estab- lished reputation for the buying and selling of securities but there is every reason for the safety of its savings why it should not. It is with such houses and their methods of opera- tion that THE WorLD’s Work is well acquaint- ed and it has neither the facilities nor inclina- tion for the investigation of houses that are tempting the public into operations that it does not recommend or into the buying of promotion stocks that have no investment qualifications.
It would be impossible for any publication that did anything else to keep track of the new houses that are springing up in the Wall Street district or in the new uptown financial district cf New York, without considering any of those in the rest of the country. But the present position of the stock market alone, if nothing else, should be a warning to those who are now receiving letters from unknown brokers urging them to buy stocks on the partial-payment plan or on a margin. Among the letters of this character that have recently come to the attention of the Readers’ Service Bureau there was one that was‘typical of a method frequently used by the bucket-shop operator to get new clients. The broker who sent it out had evidently secured a list of the stockholders of one of the smaller tire companies. It was a mimeographed letter, and after giving the broker’s reasons for expecting “an upward move of considerable proportion” in the stock of that company, it went on to suggest that the stockholder use his present stock certificates as collateral to increase his holdings on a marginal basis. “This can be done’’, the broker said, “by endorsing your certificates on the back and sending them to me by registered mail. I will
advance two-thirds of the market value of the stock and carry a commitment in the market on an $8-per-share basis. In this manner your holdings will be materially increased without the immediate employment of an additional dollar in cash; and in the event of an ad- vance in the price of the stock in the market your gain will be correspondingly larger.” The fact that the stock had advanced several points subsequent to the date at the head of this letter would make it doubly effective.
This method recalls to mind the case of one of the creditors of J. D. Sugarman & Company, one of the first of the brokerage houses to fail in the epidemic of last year. This man was an able business executive in the Middle West who had been receiving Sugarman’s weekly market publication for some time and had become impressed by the quality of its analyses of business conditions and of specific security issues. He was not tempted, however, to do any business with the firm as its affiliations did not recommend it tohim. But Sugarman, learning through the purchase of a stockholders’ list, or in some other way, that this man owned a large block of stock in a company that was not then pay- ing dividends, found a vulnerable point of attack. He wrote and suggested that the man put up this stock as collateral to buy some dividend-paying issues and thus make this unproductive investment yield him some return. The idea appealed to the man, and because Sugarman had suggested it, or possibly because Sugarman agreed to lend him more on the stock than a New York Stock Exchange house would, he sent the stock to Sugarman for this purpose. When Sugarman failed, the man found that his stock had been sold the day after he sent it in and he never got it back nor any of the other stocks which he supposed had been bought for him. He is a creditor of the failed firm to the extent of several thousand dollars with little prospect of getting any of it.
With the stock market at high levels there is less danger of losing money through the failure of bucket shops, but there is the danger of losing it just as surely, if less suddenly, for the object of such houses is to get their clients into stocks that go down and to get them so extended in the market that their accounts are ultimately wiped out with the loss of all the money they have put up.





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Salesmen of Hate: The Ku Klux Klan
The First Article of a Series on How the Klan was Organized and What It
Hopes to Do.
The Men and the Woman Who Made It a National Organization
By ROBERT L. DUFFUS
Although the Ku Klux Klan bas been repeatedly ‘‘exposed”’
still, for most persons, a mystery.
In a series of articles of which this is the first,
, its causes, motives, and significance are
Mr. Duffus
will try to make plain to readers of the Wor Lb’s Work how the organization was started, and
why; how it has operated; what effects it has bad upon our political and social life;
what
legitimate reasons for existence, if any, it possesses, and what its probable future will be. The
present article deals with the picturesque personalities who founded and directed the Klan.
Next
month Mr. Duffus will tell of the spread of the organization in the South—Tue Epirtors.
OME eight or nine years ago a thin- lipped, long-nosed, spectacled gen- tleman, with something about his tall frame that suggested he might answer to the title of Colonel, used
occasionally to drop into newspaper offices in Atlanta, Georgia. Like many other gentle- men who drop into newspaper offices he had a plan which he was not unwilling to explain. Journalists who turned from what they may have considered more important matters to listen to what he had to say gathered that if he was a crank he was a well-meaning one.
This was Colonel William Joseph Simmons, his prefix being derived in part from service as private in Company B of the First Regiment of Alabama Volunteers during the Spanish War, and in part from a career as an officer of the Twenty-ninth Regiment, uniform rank, Woodmen of the World. However, the title by which he was destined to become nation- ally known was that of Imperial Wizard of the Ku Klux Klan.
Of his career until 1915 comparatively little has been revealed, and some of what has been revealed is self-contradictory. He ap- pears to have been born at Harpersville, Shelby County, Alabama, in or about the year 1880. At one time, perhaps in his early youth, he made a venture as a clergyman. Accord- ing to one legend he continued in this occupa- tion for about ten years. According to an- other he merely preached a probationary term and was then refused ordination. However this may be—and it is only fair to say that the
worst enemies of Colonel Simmons’s organiza- tion have not been able to attach any dam- ning personal scandal to his record—he retains much of the spell-binding ability generally associated with the revivalist preacher. An Atlanta man, by no means friendly to the Simmons enterprise, said to me of a speech he heard the Colonel deliver: “He could have led that crowd anywhere, and I’m not sure I wouldn’t have gone with the rest.”
After giving up such ministerial work as he attempted, Colonel Simmons became a travel- ling salesman. The favorite story of a cer- tain business man of Birmingham is that he employed Simmons as a salesman of men’s garters and subsequently discharged him for inefficiency. But the major portion of his career was as a Salesman or representative for various fraternal orders. According to his own testimony he was earning ten thousand dollars a year when he gave up his private business in order to promote the Ku Klux Klan. A less glowing account of his success is given by those who knew him at the time. But however large or small the profits, he took fraternalism seriously.
“1 am a member of a number of fraternal orders,” he told the House rules committee in October, 1921, when the Ku Klux Klan was under investigation, “the Masons, Royal Arch Masons, the great order of Knights Templars. . . . In fact I have been a frater- nalist ever since | was in the academy school way back yonder, and | believe in fraternal orders and fraternal relationships among men,


fies
32 Robert L. Duffus
in a fraternity of nations, so that all people might know something of the great doctrine of the fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of man.”
Colonel Simmons was emotional and some- thing of a mystic. When he came across a history of the Ku Klux Klan of reconstruction days, his mind and imagination began to work feverishly. This was at a time when the “white man’s burden” had very solemn im- plications, even in America. Men with harder heads than Simmons’s were talk- ing about Anglo-Saxon supremacy. Immi- gration was pouring into the country in a torrential stream, new ideas about religion and government were fermentingand boiling over, and the old racial stock and its folk ways seemed to be threat- ened.
Colonel Simmons mulled these things around in his head, and the modern ver- sion of the Ku Klux Klan, which he main- tains, when he thinks of it, to be a continu- ation of the old klan, was the result.
“Twenty years ago,” he declared in the testimony | have just quoted, “I re- ceived the inspiration to establish a fraternal, patriotic secret order for the purpose of memorializing the great heroes of our national history, inculcating and teaching practical fraternity among men, to teach and encourage a fervent practical patriotism toward our country, and to destroy from the hearts of men the Mason and Dixon line, and build thereupon a great American solidarity and distinctive national conscience which our country sorely stands in need of.
“At that time | was a mere young man, and knew that my youth and immature thought would not permit me to successfully

WILLIAM JOSEPH SIMMONS
The originator of the present Ku Klux Klan. Until
“Colonel”? Simmons enlisted the aid of Edgar Young
Clarke the organization lacked strength, but the “‘sell-
ing methods”’ of Mr. Clarke soon increased the society enormously
launch the movement. So | kept my counsel through fifteen subsequent years, working, thinking, and preparing my head and heart for the task of creating this institution for the interest of our common country, and for the promotion of real brotherhood among men.
“It was in the month of October, 1915, that | decided to launch the movement. | mentioned to many of my friends what | had in mind and heart, and as a result a meeting was held which was attended by thirty- four splendid citizens of the state of Georgia. As a result of this meeting, after | had briefly outlined to these men the purpose of this meeting, appli- cation for charter to the state of Georgia was made, which ap- plication was signed by every man pres- ent.”
On the Thanksgiv- ing day following this meeting Colonel Sim- mons and fifteen fol- lowers met at twilight on Stone Mountain, outside Atlanta, and there, in the words of Edward Young Clarke (of whom more later) “erected a fiery cross and spread an Ameri- can flag over a crude altar builded with their own hands, and solemnly dedicated themselves, as Americans, to those principles of Americanism embodied in the Constitution of the United States, consecrated themselves, as Protestants, to the tenets of the Christian religion, and pledged themselves, as white men, to the eternal maintenance of white supremecy.”
A week later the order received a charter from the state of Georgia, and on July 1, 1916, on petition of Simmons and eleven others, it was duly incorporated in the superior court of Fulton County. Its object and purpose was described as ‘‘purely benevolent and eleemosy-

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Salesmen of Hate: The Ku Klux Klan 33




A GROUP OF KU KLUX OFFICERS AT THE CONGRESSIONAL INQUIRY From left to right: Edgar Young Clarke, whose sales methods so rapidly increased the Klan membership, Paul S. Etheridge, “Imperial Counsel,’’ Dr. H. W. Evans, the Dallas dentist who has become the head of the Klan, and Fred L. Savage, ‘Imperial Klaliff”’
nary,’ and it was stipulated that there should be “no capital stock or profit or gain to the members thereof.” It was formally described as a “ patriotic, secret, social, bene- volent order, under the name and style of ‘Knights of the Ku Klux Klan’.”
After this brief and inconspicuous appear- ence in public, Colonel Simmons and his fol- lowers retired into relative obscurity, and Colonel Simmons himself into a very real poverty. The next four years were lean, despite his use of the “logical, businesslike plan,” which, he said, he had “worked out while in the organization work of the Wood- men of the World, having organizers, district organizers, and state managers, and so on.”
“For three years,” the Colonel himself has testified, “the work was a tremendous strug- gle, made more arduous by a traitor in our ranks who held under me a position of trust, who embezzled all our accumulated funds in the summer of 1916 and went off to organize a counterfeit order. The treacherous con- duct of this man left me penniless, with a large accumulation of debts against the order. | was forced to mortgage my home in order to get money with which to carry on the fight against this traitor’s counterfeit order, and also to assist in the work we had to do. During all this time oi dread and darkness | virtually stood alone, but remaining true to the dictates of unsullied honor, | steered the infant organization
through dangerous channels, and _ finally succeeded in making good in the payment of all debts, and starting the institution
upon a nationwide expansion.”
It is worth remarking, in view of what came later, that Colonel Simmons, according to his own version of the incident, indignantly re- jected the temptation offered by one Jona- than B. Frost, one of the original incorpora- tors, who told him “of great money-making possibilities’’ and stated “that he could guar- antee a cold $1,000,000 to myself and to him- self if these plans were carried out.”’
In the spring of 1920, more than four years after the ceremony on Stone Mountain, the Ku Klux numbered “about four or five thou- sand members altogether.’’ This slow growth is not unconnected with the fact that Simmons kept his accounts carelessly, wasted money in various ways, and from a business man’s point of view was hopelessly incompetent. It is also probable that he did not yearn after money as much as did those tnto whose hands his crusade later fell. Mr. Clarke has testi- fied that at times he “actually went hungry in order that the bills of the Klan might be met and the work kept alive.” It is also recorded that he “lived in an unpretentious part of the city’ and that the “Imperial Palace’’ was on “the top floor of a second- rate office building.”
Had the propagation of the Klan remained in Colonel Simmons’s hands, it is fairly certain


34 Robert L. Duffus

© Underwood & Underwood
EDGAR YOUNG CLARKE
rhe principal ‘‘salesman of hate’’ whose membership campaign re- sulted not only in enlarging the Klan but also in enriching himself
that the organization would never have at- tained large dimensions or become a national problem. But in 1920 an important event occurred: Edward Young Clarke joined, saw the possibilities which inhered in the enter- prise, and immediately placed behind it him- self, his business associate, Mrs. Elizabeth Tyler, and their promotion company, the Southern Publicity Association. Where Jona- than B. Frost had failed they succeeded.
Whatever their beliefs about the Protestant religion, white supremecy, or one hundred per cent. Americanism, Mr. Clarke and Mrs. Tyler both took up the Klan frankly to make money. lf in order to make money it became neces- sary to stir up racial and religious passions, they were willing and able to do it, but their hearts were elsewhere.
“ Mr. Clarke explained to me,” says Postal In- spector O. B. Williamson, “that he was at the head of what is called the propagation department, and that this department was operated by Mrs. Tyler and himself, and that it was organized for profit.” As far as these enterprising partners were concerned the “purely benevolent and eleemosynary” aspects of the Ku Klux Klan were not carried to a fanatical extreme.
Clarke had been a re- porter on the Atlanta Constitution, a position in which he was not a con- spicuous success, and had afterward indulged in a variety of money-making schemes which appear to have brought in little eitherfor him or for those who trusted him. Like Simmons he was a dreamer, but his dreams were of more tangible stuff. Nevertheless he acquired a degree of flashy prominence as a press agent and “boost- er.” He had also been, like Simmons, a solicitor and sales manager for the Woodmen of the World, although the two did not meet until early in 1920. During the war he had been employed in the war-fund campaigns, and had learned how easily people can be induced to part with their money in what is represented as a good cause.
Clarke’s brother, Francis Clarke, managing editor of the Atlanta Constitution, was, and is, a steady-going man of whom everyone speaks well. He is generally believed not to be a member of the Klan, and the worst said about him is that he has been inclined to give his brother a little the best of it when there was a choice in handling the news. The fight against the Klan in Atlanta was made, not by the Constitution, but by Mr. Hearst’s Georg-

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Salesmen of Hate: The Ku Klux Klan 35
ian, under the capable and independent management of James B. Nevin.
Clarke’s partnership with Mrs. Tyler came about, according to an interview given by the latter to the New York World, in the following manner:
“Some years ago Mr. Clarke was a special- ist in booming communities that were not pro- gressing as rapidly as they wished to. He was known through-
In the light of after events it cannot be said that Mr. Clarke and Mrs. Tyler failed to deliver the goods.
Clarke closed with Simmons, on June 7, 1920, a contract which was the basis of the Klan’s great period of expansion. ‘From that time forward, until Clarke’s final withdrawal in February of this year, the Southern Publi- city Association was the tail that wagged the Ku Klux dog.

out the South as ‘the doctor of sick towns.’ He was in charge of a great harvest festival in Atlanta that brought more people to Atlanta than had ever been there before.
“| was interested in hygiene work for babies—sort of a ‘bet- ter babies’ movement. | had taken enough of a medical course to fit myself for the work of visiting among the tenements and advis- ing mothers about their babies, and inthe harvest festival we had a ‘Better Babies’ pa- rade, of which | had charge. Itwasthrough this that | met Mr. Clarke.
“After we had talked over many business enterprises, we formed the Southern Publicity Association. I was associated with the Y. W. C. A. during the war and Mr. Clarke was affiliated with the Y. M. C. A. | financed the Southern Publicity Association and stayed in the office, and Mr. Clarke was field repre- sentative, planning and working out publicity campaigns of one sort and another.
“We came into contact with Colonel Simmons and the Ku Klux Klan through the fact that my son-in-law joined it. We found Colonel Simmons was having a hard time to get along. He couldn’t pay his rent. His receipts were not sufficient to take care of his personal needs. After we had in- vestigated it from every angle, we decided to go into it with Colonel Simmons and give it
the impetus that it could get best from pub- licity.””

MRS. ELIZABETH TYLER
An associate of Edgar Y. Clarke who was very active in the campaign to “‘sell’”’ the Klan idea, and was partially responsible for the increased memberships
The Clarke-Sim- mons contract ap- pointed Clarke imper- ial kleagle, or “ general superintendent of the organization depart- ment;’ gave him power to hire his own office assistants and organizers, subject nominally to the ap- proval of Colonel Sim- mons; and _ specified that he should receive °8 out of every $10 membership fee, and in addition $2 for each rew member added Within the first six months to klans organ- ized by Clarke or his agents. Clarke was to advance to Simmons the personal and office expenses recessary for keeping up his position of titular head of the Klan, and was to deduct these expenses from the payments due Simmons under the contract.
The actual number of members taken in during the first fifteen months of this contract was about 85,000; the actual amount of money taken in, $860,000; the actual amount paid in commissions to Colonel Simmons $170,000; the actual amount retained for expenses, salaries, and profits by the Southern Publicity Association, $590,000. Of the $10 “donation” required from each neophyte $4 went to the kleagle, or solicitor, $1 to the state organizer, 50 cents to the grand goblin, or head of a “domain” covering several states, and $2.50 to Clarke and Mrs. Tyler. The partners, therefore, received, during the fifteen months, more than $212,000. Of this amount Clarke entered as “executive salaries” and “surplus” only $27,500. His actual net profit during

36
this period as well as during the remainder of his incumbency is conjectural. It is certain that he himself had practically nothing when the contract with Simmons was made, and that Mrs. Tyler put in about $14,000. It is also certain that both he and Mrs. Tyler soon gave every outward and visible sign of un- precedented prosperity; and Colonel Sim- mons, besides receiving $25,000 in back pay, was presented with a comfortable home on Peachtree road, nearer the centre of town than the magnificent “Imperial Palace” which Clarke had bought to serve as Klan headquarters.
Much has been, and much might still be written of the fiscal policies of the Klan under the auspices of the Southern Publicity Associa- tion. But such details as the sale of cotton robes to new members at the rate of $6.50 each, when the contract price to the Klan was $4 and the actual cost of making less than $2; the failure of the association to pay either income or excess profits taxes, on the plea that it was a benevolent enterprise; and other financial peculiarities are of general interest only as they serve to indicate the lucrative nature of the Association’s labors; and also of the labors of its successors who are now in control of the Imperial Palace. The
business paid and was expanded because it

Robert L. Duffus
paid. If there was idealism, it was not in the offices of Clarke and Tyler. was there a sinister conspiracy against law and order. It happened that Clarke and Tyler dealt in hate instead of sugar or automobiles, but they marketed hate as placidly as they might have marketed any other commodity.
Curiously enough it was as publicity agents that the partners finally overreached them- selves. Their first conspicuous success in this line was a series of articles published in the New York Herald in January, 1921, and advertised as being “based largely on infor- mation supplied by Colonel Simmons.” But the activities of Clarke’s field agents, which will be described in the next article in this series, soon led to less favorable publicity. So much adverse comment appeared that in the summer of 1921 Clarke attempted the experiment of half-page advertisements in the newspapers of New York, Chicago, and other cities, charging “an apparent nation- wide attempt through public statements in the press, and conduct of lawless citizens and traitors within our own ranks . . . to discredit the Knights of the Ku Klux Klan in the eyes of the public.”
In September the New York World began the publication of a detailed “exposure,” and simultaneously the New York American pub-



A KLAN Until up to date anemic and frail.
INITIATION “selling methods”’ were put to work by Edgar Y. Clarke and Mrs. Elizabeth Tvler the Klan was
But the great increase of members, with their fees, built the society into an awkward giant while building up for Clarke and Mrs. Tyler extraordinary profits
Nor, probably, °














eee ve Pe ees
was a
Salesmen of Hate: Ku Klux Klan 37





A KU KLUX KLAN MEETING Robed and Masked and led by officers of the organization whose titles show a marked affinity for the eleventh letter of the alphabet, the members of the Klan profess the deepest reverence for American principles, but are apparently oblivious to the strangeness of the picture that they make as they hide their faces while they loudly declare their faith in law and order
lished the racy confessions of ©. Anderson Wright, former head of the Klan’s subsidiary, the “ Knights of the Air.’’ This led in Octo- ber to a hearing before the House Rules Com- mittee, at which Colonel Simmons was a star witness, and which had no official result, unless it was to defeat Chairman Philip Camp- bell of Kansas in the 1922 elections. When this hearing was held, neither the Department of Justice nor the Post Office Department, despite their itvestigations into the Klan’s affairs, had found evidence on which criminal proceedings could be based.
In December four “goblins,” or regional sales directors, who had revolted against Clarke’s authority, made serious charges against the personal characters of Clarke and Mrs. Tyler, filed a number of suits against the couple, and petitioned to have the Klan de- clared bankrupt. These occurrences were given wide publicity, and by the end of 1921 it was a careless newspaper reader-who had not heard of the Ku Klux Klan.
The investigators of the New York World had blundered in overestimating the numbers of Klansmen by about one thousand per cent., and probably also in ascribing to them acts of which they were not guilty. There had been a temptation to class as “ Ku Klux out- rages” certain offences which have been common in the South for many decades. When the present writer made a trip through
the South early in 1923 it was still a question in many persons’ minds whether the World’s exposures had not done the Klan more good than harm.
But at one vulnerable point the World, backed up by the testimony of C. Anderson Wright, of Z. R. Upchurch, formerly an asso- ciate of Clarke and Mrs. Tyler, and by com- mon gossip, hit so hard as finally to dislodge the Southern Publicity Association from its control of the Klan’s finances.
The most serious of these charges was that Clarke and Mrs. Tyler had been arrested to- gether in October, 1919, at a house owned by Mrs. Tyler in a well-known but unfashionable district in Atlanta, and that they had been fined for disorderly conduct. The arrest is reported to have taken place on information furnished by Clarke’s wife, who had sued him for divorce thirteen days previously on the ground of desertion. The records of this incident are said to have been removed by some unknown person from police headquar- ters in Atlanta, and the whole story was sub- sequently denied by Clarke. The two made no secret, however, of the fact that Clarke was a frequent visitor at Mrs. Tyler’s attractive estate on the Howell Mill road, outside Atlanta.
Clarke has also been charged with mishand- ling church funds in 1910; he was indicted in October, 1922, by a Federal grand jury at



38

Atlanta for misuse of the mails; in March, 1923, he was indicted by a Federal grand jury at Houston for violation of the White Slave act; and a futile attempt was made to indict him: at Indianapolis for carrying whisky in his suitcase. At this writing none of these charges has been sustained in court, and the fact that Clarke’s record has been raked over thoroughly by persons anxious to discredit him may show that he generally kept on the safe side of legality, if not always of propriety.
Rut the effect of these reflections on Clarke’s character joined to his growing arbi- trariness, his refusal to begin libel suits, and the prevalent belief that Mrs. Tyler was the actual head of the Klan, created powerful op- position within the order. Eighteen thousand
Klansmen were said to have resigned in Chi- .
cago following the publication of the World’s charges, and Grand Goblin Atkin, of the Chicago “domain,” declared in an interview that “the purpose of the Ku Klux Klan is the antithesis of the practices alleged or proved against Clarke and Mrs. Tyler.’’ Insurgent Klansmen believed that Simmons, for whom they professed sympathy, was under Clarke’s domination, or, worse yet, Mrs. Tyler’s. Louis David Wade, “imperial kligrapp”’ or secretary, who was discharged by Clarke in July, 1922, filed a suit in which he alleged that the latter “has gained complete control over the Chief Executive Cfficer (William Joseph Simmons), and has either kept him drunk or has taken advantage of his drunken condition, and procured for himself the office of Imperial Wizard pro tem., which allows him to exer- cise supreme control over the entire organi- zation.”
Clarke had, in fact, assumed the duties of Imperial Wizard, or supreme executive, in June, 1922, retiring Simmons ostensibly on a “vacation,” but in reality removing him from power. But Clarke’s days of authority were numbered. On October 4, 1922, he an- nounced his resignation; on November 28 the Imperial Klonvocation, or general convention of the order, appointed a new Imperial Wiz- ard, Hiram Wesley Evans, a dentist from Dal- las, Texas; and on March 5 of this year Evans formally announced that Clarke had been re- moved “‘forthe good of the order,”’ that his con- tract had been cancelled, and that he would no longer receive “one cent of revenue from the Klan.”” Colonel Simmons, with the meaning- less title of ““ Emperor,” is an invalid (whether

Robert L. Duffus
for the reasons given by Mr. Wade or others) in the house on Peachtree Road presented him by the Klan in the days of Clarke’s glory. Early in April he showed his resentment by attempting to place himself once more in actual control, but any authority that he regains as a result of legal action is likely to be fleeting. Mrs. Tyler, in the meantime, had been led to the altar by Ste- phen W. Grow, an Atlanta motion picture man, and so, apparently, disappears from the centre of the stage.
The new wizard of the Klan is a man of quite a different stamp from either Simmons or Clarke. When the first Ku Klux organizers came to Dallas, Evans was filling and pulling teeth, not without a measure of success. He was also prominent in some of the fraternal orders, including the Masons. According to Klansmen, the Klan agents approached a number of Masons, who were and are both powerful and numerous in Texas, and Evans offered to lend his influence to the new move- ment if its principles were found not incon- sistent with Masonry. The inquiry satisfied Evans and led to wholesale applications for membership in the Klan. In my next article | shall have something to say of Klan develop- ments in Dallas and Fort Worth, which went so far that Dallas rather than Atlanta is now regarded by many Klansmen as the centre of the movement.
There is no doubt that Evans went to Atlanta, first as secretary in- place of the deposed Mr. Wade, then as Imperial Wizard, to act as a representative of the Texas Klans, “clean house” and put the Klan in a better light before the public. Like Simmons he possesses some of the qualities of the evange- list and spell-binder, but he combines with these a far greater practicality.
Under Evans the financial affairs of the Klan will probably be put in presentable order, and the Imperial Palace may attempt to re- strain the lawless acts of which many of the local klans have been guilty. But violence and corruption, as | hope to show, are not the fundamental evil of the Ku Klux Klan. It can be, and perhaps will be, a very danger- ous organization after both these elements are eliminated.
In a succeeding article | shall retrace my steps a little in order to outline the methods by which the Klan spread itself in the South under the leadership of Simmons and Clarke.

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NEWSPAPER
ADVENTURES
IN FLEET STREET
How I Joined Lord Northcliffe’s Staff, and How | Left.
Case and Ethel le Neve.
The Crippen
A Third Article on English Newspaper Life
By PHILIP GIBBS
LEET STREET called to me with an alluring voice. | sickened for London. One night | wrote a let- ter to Alfred Harmsworth, founder of The Daily Mail, and _ after- wards Lord Northcliffe. Almost by return of post he asked me to call on him, and | took the chance. | remember as though it were yesterday my first interview with that genius of the new journalism. He kept me waiting for a while in an ante-chamber of Carmelite House. Young men, extremely well dressed, and ob- viously in a great hurry on business of enor- mous importance, to themselves, kept coming and going. Messenger boys in neat little liveries bounced in and out of “the Chief’s”’ room, in answer to his bell. Presently one of them approached me and said, “Your turn.” | drew a deep breath, prayed for courage, and found myself face to face with a handsome, clean-shaven, well-dressed man, with a lock of brown hair falling over his broad forehead, and a friendly, quizzical look in his brown eyes. Sitting back in a deep chair, smoking a cigar, he read some of the articles | had brought, and occasionally said “Not bad!” r “Rather amusing!’”’ Once he looked up and said, “ You look rather pale, young man. Better go to the South of France for a bit.”’ But it was the air of Fleet Street | wanted. Presently he gave me the chance of it. “How would you like to edit Page Four, and write two articles a week?” | went out of Carmelite House with that offer accepted, uplifted to the seventh heaven of hope, and yet a little scared by the danger- ous and dazzling height which | had reached. A month later, having uprooted my home in the North, brought a wife and babe to London, incurred heavy expenses with a mortgage on the future, | presented myself
at The Daily Mail again, and awaited the leisure and pleasure of Alfred Harmsworth.
When | was shown into his room, he only dimly remembered my face.
“Let me see,” he said, groping back to the distant past, which was four weeks old.
When | told him my name, he seemed to have a glimmer of some half forgotten com- pact.
“Oh, yes! The young man from the North, Wasn’t there some talk
of making a place for you in The Daily Mail?”
My heart fell down a precipice. . . I mentioned the offer that had been made and accepted. But Harmsworth looked a little doubtful.
“Page Four? Well, hardly that, perhaps. I’ve appointed another editor.”’
| thought of my wife and babe, and unpaid bills. °
“Do you mind touching the bell?” Harmsworth.
The usual boy came in, and was ordered to send down a certain gentleman whose name | did not hear. Presently the door opened, and a tall, thin, pale, handsome, and extremely haughty young gentleman sauntered in and said “Good afternoon,’’ icily.
Harmsworth presented me to Filson Young, whom afterward | came to know as one of the most brilliant writers in Fleet Street, as he still remains. Not then did | guess that we should meet as chroniclers of world war in the ravaged fields of France.
“Oh, Young,” said Harmsworth, suavest voice, “This is a newcomer, named Philip Gibbs. | half promised him the editor- ship of Page Four.”
Here he tapped Young on the shoulder, and added in a jocular way:
“And if you’re not very careful, young man, he may edit Page Four!”’
Young offered me a cold hand,
asked
in his
and there



40

was not a benediction in his glance. I was put under his orders as a writer, as heir pre- sumptive to his throne. As it happened, we became good friends, and he had no grudge against me when, some months later, he va- cated the chair in my favor and went to Ireland for The Daily Mail, to collect material for his brilliant essays on “Ireland at the Crossroads.”’
So there | was, in the Harmsworth régime, which has made many men, and broken others. It was the great school of the New Journalism, which was very new in England in those days, and mainly inspired by the powerful, brilliant, erratic, and whimsical genius of Alfred Harms- worth himself.
| joined his staff at the end of the Boer War period, when there was a brilliant group of men on The Daily Mail, such as Charles Hands, Edgar Wallace, H. W. Wilson, Holt White, and Filson Young. The editor was “Tom” Marlowe, still by a miracle in that position which he kept through years of tur- bulence and change, by carrying out with unfaltering hesitation every wish and whimsy of The Chief, and by a sense of humor which never betrayed him into regarding any in- ternal convulsion, revolution, or hysteria of The Daily Mail system as more than the latest phase in an ever-changing game. Men might come, and men might go, but Marlowe re-
e . a
Philip Gibbs
mained forever, bluff, smiling, imperturbable, and kind.
Above him in power of direction, dynamic energy, and financial authority, was Kennedy Jones, whom all men feared and many hated. He had a ruthless brutality of speech and action which Harmsworth, more human, more generous, and less cruel (though he had a strain of cruelty), found immensely helpful in running an organization which could not suc- ceed on sentiment or brotherly love. Kennedy Jones would break a man as soon as look at him, if he made a mistake “letting down”’ the paper, if he earned more money for a job which could be done for less by a younger man, if he showed signs of getting tired. That was his deliberate policy as a “strong man” out to win at any price, but, as in most men of the kind, there lay beneath his ruthlessness a substratum of human quality which occasion- ally revealed itself in friendly action. He had a cynical honesty of outlook on life which gave his conversation at times the hard sparkle of wit and the bitter spice of truth. Beyond any doubt, the enormous success of the Northcliffe press, as it was afterward called, owed a great deal to the business genius of this man.
Alfred Harmsworth himself provided the ideas, the policy, the spirit of the machine. He was the enthusiast, the explorer, and the


THE OLD BAILEY rhis building is on the site of another building of the same name, the passing of which is described
by Sir Philip Gibbs in this article.

The Old Bailey is one of England’s most noted“ gaols”’
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Newspaper Adventures in Fleet Street 41

adventurer, with the world’s news as his un- charted seas. He had only one test of what was good to print, “ Does this interest Mer” As he was interested, with the pas- sionate curiosity of a small boy who asks con- tinually “How?” and “Why?’”’, in all the ele- mentary aspects of hu- man life, in its romances and discoveries, its new toys and new fads, its tragedies and comedies of the more obvious kind, its melodramas and amusements and person- alities, that test was not narrow or one-eyed. The legend grew that Harms- worth, afterward North- cliffe, had an uncanny sense of public opinion, and, with his ear to the ground, knew from afar what the people wanted, and gave it them. But, in my judgment, he had none of that subtlety of mind and vision. He had a boyish simplicity, of overlaid by a little cun-
ning and craft. It was not what the pub- lic wanted that was his guiding rule. It was what he wanted. His luck and genius lay in the combination of qualities which made him typical to a supreme degree of the average man as produced by the triviaiity, the rest- lessness, the craving for sensation, the impa- tience with the length and dullness and diffi- culty of life and learning, the habit of taking short cuts to knowledge and judgment, which characterized that great middle-class public of the world before the war.
One method by which Harmsworth im- pressed his own views and character on the staff and paper was to hold a daily conference in The Daily Mail office, which all editors, sub- editors, reporters, special correspondents, and glorified office boys were expected to attend. Freedom of speech was granted, and free dis- Cussion invited, without distinction of rank. The man who put a good idea into the pool


FLEET STREET—LONDON’S NEWSPAPER CENTRE Fleet Street in London has in it many of the offices
the best known newspapers and_ periodicals
was rewarded by Harmsworth’s enthusiastic approbation, while he himself criticized that day’s paper, pointed out its defects, praised some article which had caught his fancy and discussed the leading matter for next day’s
paper. Cigarettes and cigars lay ready to the hand. Tea was served, daintily. Laughter
and jokes brightened this daily rendezvous, and Harmsworth, at these times, in those early days, was at his best—easy, boyish, captivating, to some extent inspiring. But it was an inspiration in the triviality of thought, in the lighter side of the Puppet-Show. Never once did | hear Harmsworth utter one serious commentary on life, or any word ap- proaching nobility of thought, or any hint of some deep purpose behind this engine which he was driving with such splendid zest in its power and efficiency. On the other hand, I never heard him say a base word or utter an unclean or vicious thought.


42 Philip
He was very generous at times to those who served him. | know one man who approached him for a loan of £100.
He was shocked at the idea.
“Certainly not! Don’t you know that | never lend money? I wouldn’t do it if you were starving in the gutter.”
Then he wrote a cheque for £100, and said, “But I'll give it you, my dear fellow. Say no more about it.”’
Now and again, when he saw one of his “ young men ”’ looking pale and run down, he would pack him off for a holiday in the south of France, with all his expenses paid. In later years he gave handsome pensions to many who had served him in the early days.
He had his Court Favorites, like the medieval Kings, gen- erally one of the new-comers who had aroused his enthusi- asm by some little “scoop,” or a bril- liant bit of work. But he tired of them quickly, and it was a dangerous thing to occupy that position, because it was almost certain to mean a speedy fall.
For a little while | was one of his favor- ites. He used to chat with me in his room and say amusing, indiscreet things, about other members of the staff, or his numerous brothers.
| remember him looking up once from his desk where he sat in front of a bust of Napo- leon, to whom he bore a physical resemblance, and upon whose character and methods with men he closely modelled himself.
“Gibbs,” he said, “whenever you see a man looking like a cod-fish walking about these passages, you'll know my brother Cecil brought him in. Then he comes to me to hock him out again!”
As temporary favorite, | was invited down to Sutton Court, a magnificent old mansion of Elizabethan days, in Surrey. It was in

LORD NORTHCLIFFE AS A YOUNG MAN
When he was Alfred Harmsworth, and had just begun his newspaper career
Gibbs
the early days of motoring, and | was taken down in a great car, and back in another, and felt like an Emperor. Harmsworth was a delightful host, and kept open house during the week-ends, where one heard the latest newspaper “shop” under the high timbered roof and between the panelled walls, where the great ladies and gentlemen of England, in silks and brocades, had dined and danced by candlelight.
It was here, in the minstrels’ gallery, one afternoon, that Harmsworth asked me to tell him all about “ syndicating,”’ according to my ex- perience with the Tillotsons’ syndicate. I told him, and he be- came excited.
“Excellent! I tell you what to do. Go back to The Daily Mail and say I’ve sacked you. Then go to the south of France with your wife, for three months. I'll pay expenses. After that, return to Fleet Street, where you'll find an office waiting for you, called the British Empire Syn- dicate, Limited. No- body must know that I’m behind it. How’s that fora scheme?’”’
It seemed to me a pretty good scheme; al- though | was doubtful whether | could work it. | temporized, and suggested drawing out the scheme on paper, more in detail. That disappointed him. He wanted me to say, “Rather! The chance of a life-time!” My hesitation put me into the class he called “Yes, but—’’ I drew up the scheme, but he went for a visit to Germany, and on his return did not give another thought to the British Empire Syndicate, Limited. Other ideas had absorbed his interest.
At the end of a year | saw I was losing favor. An incident happened which forewarned me of approaching doom. He had returned from another visit to Germany, and was in a bad



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Newspaper Adventures in Fleet Street 43
temper, believing, as he always did, that The Daily Mail had gone to the dogs in his absence. He reproved me sharply for the mis- erable stuff | had been publishing in Page Four, and demanded to see what | had got in hand. | took down some “ plums’’—special articles by brilliant and distinguished men. He glanced through them, and laid then down angrily.
“Dull as ditchwater! Send them all back!’
| protested that it was impossible to send them back, as they were all commissioned. My own honor and honesty were at stake.
“Send them all back!”’ he said, with increasing anger.
I did not send them back, but gave them “snappier’ titles. The next day he sent for me again, and de- manded to see what else | proposed to pub- lish—“ not that trash you showed me yes- terday!”
| took down the same articles, with some others. He had more leisure, read them while he smoked a cigar, and at in- tervals said, “Good!”
“Excellent!”
“Why didn’t you show these to me yesterday!’
Needless to say, | did not enlighten him. | was saved that time, but a few months later | saw other signs of disfavor.
| remember that at that time | had to see General Booth, the founder of the Salvation Army, that grand old man for whose human- ity and love | had a great respect, in spite of his methods of conversion, with scarlet coats and tambourines. He was angry with some- thing | had written, and was violent in his wrath. But then he forgave me and talked very gently and wisely of the responsibilities of journalism, “the greatest power in the world for good or evil.”
Presently the old man seized me by the Wrist with his skinny old hand, and thrust me down on to my knees. ;

LORD NORTHCLIFE SHORTLY BEFORE HIS DEATH
This picture was taken just before he landed from the steamship on his last visit to the United States
“Now let us pray for Alfred Harmsworth,” he said, and offered up fervent prayer for his wisdom and light.
I don’t know what effect that prayer had on Harmsworth, but it seemed to have an immediate effect upon my own fate. I was “sacked” from The Daily Mail.
T WAS in the new Old Bailey, very hand- somely panelled, nicely warmed, lighted with delicate effects of color through high windows—doubtless the clerks of the court thought it quitea priv- ilege for the criminals to be judged in sucha place—that | saw the trial of that famous and astonishing little murderer, Doctor Crippen.
It will be remem- bered that he was cap- tured on a ship bound for Halifax, with a girl named Ethel le Neve, dressed up in boy’s clothes, with whom he had eloped after killing his wife and dissecting her body for burial in his cellar.
Crippen looked a respectable little man, with weak, watery eyes and a drooping mustache, so ordi- nary a type of middle class business man in London that quite a number of people, in- cluding one of my own friends, were arrested by mistake for him when the hue and cry went forth.
| was at Bournemouth at that time, in one of the aviation meetings which were held in the early days of flying. It was celebrated by fancy fétes, open-air carnivals, fancy-dress


balls, and all kinds of diversions. The most respectable town in England, inhabited
mostly by retired colonels, well-to-do spinsters and invalids, seemed to take leave of its senses in a wild outburst of frivolity. Even the Mayor was to be seen in the broad glare of sunshine, wearing a false nose. Into that atmosphere of false noses and fancy frocks


44 Philip came telegrams to several newspaper corres- pondents from their editors.
“Scotland Yard believes Crippen at Bourne- mouth. Please get busy.”
That was the tenor of the telegram sent to me, and | saw by the pink envelopes re- ceived by friends at table in the Grand Hotel one night that they had received similar mes- sages. One by one they stole out, looking mightily secretive—in search of Crippen, who by that time was nearing Halifax.
With a friend named Harold Ashton, a well-known “crime sleuth,” | went into the hall, and after a slight discussion decided that if Crippen was in Bournemouth it was not our job to find him. We were, for the time, ex- perts in aviation, and couldn’t be put off by foolish murders.
As we went upstairs, Ashton put his head over the banisters, and then uttered an ex- clamation:
“Scotland Yard!”
Looking over the stair-rail, | saw a pair of boots, belonging to a man sitting in the hall. True enough, they had come from Scotland Yard, according to the tradition which en- ables any detective to be recognized at a glance by any criminal. One of those de- tectives had been sent down on the false rumor, and probably hoped to find Doctor Crippen and Ethel le Neve disguised as Pierrot and Columbine on the pier.
Ashton and | decided to have a game with the man. We wrote a note in block letters, as follows:
“ARE YOU LOOKING FOR DOCTOR CRIPPEN? IF SO, BEWARE!”
By a small bribe, we hired a boy to deliver it to the detective, and then depart quickly.
The effect was obviously disconcerting to the man, for he looked most uneasy, and then hurried out of the hotel. Doubtless he could not understand how anybody in Bournemouth could know of his mission. Ashton and | followed him, and he was immediately aware that he was being shadowed. He went into a public-house and ordered a glass of beer which he did not drink. Ashton and | did the same, and were quick on his heels when he slipped out by a side door. We kept up this game for quite a time, until we tired of it, and to this day the detective must wonder who shadowed him so closely in Bournemouth, and for what fell purpose.
Gibbs
Curiously, by the absurd chances of jour- nalistic life, | became mixed up in the Crippen case, not only by having to describe the trial, but by having to write the life-story of Ethel le Neve. That girl, who had been Crippen’s typist, was quite a pretty and attractive little creature, and in spite of her flight with him in boy’s clothes, the police were satisfied that she was entirely innocent of the murder. Any- how, she was not charged, and upon her libera- tion she was immediately captured, at a price, by The Daily Chronicle who saw that her nar- rative would make an enormous sensation. They provided her with a furnished flat, under an assumed name, and for weeks The Daily Chronicle office was swarming with her sister’s family, while office boys fetched the milk for the baby, and sub-editors paid the outstand- ing debts of the brother-in-law, in order that Ethel le Neve should reserve her tale exclu- sively to the nice, kind paper! Such is the dignity of modern journalism, desperate for a “scoop.”
Eddy, a young barrister, now well-known and prosperous at the Bar and I| were associ- ated in the extracton of Ethel le Neve’s tale. He cross-examined her artfully, and persist- ently, with the firm belief that she knew all about the murder. Never once, however, did he trap her into any admission.
From my point of view, the psychology of the girl was extremely interesting. Just a little Cockney girl, from a family of humble class and means, she had astonishing and un- usual qualities. It is characteristic of her that when she was staying in Brussels with Crippen, disguised as a boy, and a remarkably good-looking boy she appeared, because she knew that Crippen was wanted by the law for “some old thing or other” which she didn’t bother to find out, she spent most of her time visiting the art galleries and museums of the Belgian capital. She had regarded the whole episode as a great “lark” until at Halifax de- tectives came aboard and arrested the fugi- tives on a charge of murder. She admitted to me that, putting two and two together, little incidents that had seemed trivial at the time, and remembering queer words spoken by Crippen—“ the doctor,”’ as she called him —she had no doubt now of his guilt. But, as she also admitted, that made no difference to her love for him. “He was mad when he did it,”’ she said, “and he was mad for me.” That was the extraordinary thing, that deep,
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sincere, and passionate love between the little weak-eyed, middle-aged quack doctor, and his common, pretty little Cockney girl.
| read Crippen’s love letters, written to Ethel le Neve from prison, immensely long letters, written On prison paper in a neat little writing, without a blot or a fault. All told, there were forty thousand words of them
as long as a novel and they were surpris- ing in their good style, their beauty of expres- sion, their resignation to death. These two peo- ple from the squalor of a London suburb, might have been medieval lovers in Italy of Boc- caccio’s time, when mur- der for love’s sake was lightly done.
In a little restaurant in Soho | sat with Ethel le Neve, day after day, while all the journalists of England were search- ing forher. Many times she was so gay that it was impossible to believe that she had escaped the hangman’s rope by no great distance, and that her lover was a little blear-eyed man lying under sentence of death. Yet that gaiety of hers was not affected or forced. It bubbled out of her because of a quick and childish sense of humor which had not been killed by the frightful thing that overshadowed her. When that shadow fell upon her spirit again, she used to weep, but never for long. Her last request to me was that | should .have Doctor Crippen’s photograph made into a miniature which she could wear concealed upon her breast. On the morning of his exe- cution she put on black for him, and wished that she might have died with him on the scaffold.
| am certain, as the police were, that she was guiltless of all knowledge and participa-
GENERAL WILLIAM Who seized Sir Philip Gibbs and forced him to his knees while the Salvation Army
leader prayed for Lord Northcliffe’s redemption. Philip, Lord Northcliffe “ the prayer he professes not to know

BOOTH
Shortly thereafter, says Sir gave him the sack’’ but whether because of or despite
tion is the murder of Mrs. Crippen, but she seemed as careless of that crime as any woman of the Borgias when a rival was removed from her path of love. Some old strain of passion- ate blood had thrust up again in this London typist girl, whose name of le Neve might hold the clue, if we knew her family history, to this secret of her personality.
| was glad to see the last of her, having written down her tale, because that was not the kind of journalism which appealed to my instincts or ideals, and | sickened at the squalor of the whole story of love and murder, as | sat with Ethel le Neve in friendly dis- course, not without pity for this girl whose life had been ruined by her folly, and who would be forever haunted by the grim tragedy of Crippen’s crime.


REPUBLICAN PRESIDENTIAL TIMBER
Possible Candidates for the Republican Nomi- nation, and How They Might Become Available
By MARK
N THE article on Republican Presidential possibilities in last month’s Wor.p’s Work, it was stated that the more impor- tant Republican party leaders had ar- rived at a consensus of feeling that Hard-
ing should be renominated as the candidate of the party next year, that this understanding would be final unless Harding personally should veto it by some definite act of stepping aside, that if such an abdication is made it will not be before Congress meets next Decem- ber, and that the party leaders are going on the assumption that Harding will not step aside, but will continue to follow a course consistent with the theory of the leaders that it is the best policy to name him for a second term.
In reciting the more important of the rea- sons for this understanding among the leaders, it was said that the leaders believe Harding to be, under the circumstances, the candidate who would promise the most confident ex- pectation of success; that while it was con- ceded by the leaders that the elections last November showed a striking decline from the high tide of Harding’s and the Republican Party’s popularity, nevertheless they felt there was reason for them to hope that some of this lost prestige will come back; that admitting Harding’s vote-getting strength has dimin- ished since his extraordinary triumph of 1920, there was no other possibility in sight who could be expected to duplicate or even ap- proximate that victory, under the changed conditions of 1924; that, indeed, there is no other possibility in sight who can offer a de- pendable promise of doing any better in 1924, or even as well, as Harding. Further than
this, these Republican leaders, reporting the.
state of feeling in the various communities they represent, arrived at a universal and rather emphatic judgment that in spite of the results of the elections last fall, Harding’s present standing in the feelings of the public is not one that can, by any stretch of critical
SULLIVAN
judgment, be called unpopular. On the contrary, their judgment was that, as some of them expressed it, “everybody likes Hard- ing.”. The leaders had and have much faith that certain qualities of equanimity, of pa- tience and tolerance, in Harding’s personality, will bring to him during the year and a half before the next election, a reassuring degree of popular favor, as a personal asset.” They think that Harding, who was practically a stranger to the country in 1920, won the elec- tion of that year almost wholly because of the circumstances of the campaign; and that Harding in 1924 will stand well with the people on his own account, as a result of the knowl- edge of him the public has acquired or will have acquired by the time the election comes. They admitted that the high tide of the popu- larity of Harding and the Republican adminis- tration was reached almost a year ago, about the ending of the Washington Conference, and that thereafter it ebbed strongly; they admitted that at this moment circumstances favor the Democrats, other things being equal. They even admitted the force of the precedent which says that, as to any administration, when things are running badly at the middle of it, the tendency is for that trend to gather increasing momentum; but they felt that, in spite of these admissions, nevertheless the advantages that attach to Harding’s position before the public, or which they hope will accrue to him during the next year and a half, make him the best available man for the nomination.
In addition to these reasons for the gen- eral agreement that Harding should be the next nominee, reasons based on a study of popular feeling and the other conditions, together with comparison of Harding with the alternative possibilities in sight—in addi- tion to all these, there was, in this decision, certain rule-of-thumb dicta of practical poli tics. These axioms of politics as an art, which guide the thought of politicians in

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Republican Presidential Timber 47
situations like this, can be reduced largely to two main propositions. The first can be stated thus:
Any President in office can always get a renomination for himself—it is impossible for any opponent to take it away from him.
The second is: Any one who gets the party nomination by taking it away from a President in office by a fight, is sure to be defeated by the opposing party in the ensuing election. It is like fighting for a horse, and, in the strug- gle, killing the horse.
Both these rules, which largely overlap and to a slight extent contradict each other, are accepted as binding by persons who follow politics as a practical art. As a matter of fact, in the changed conditions of the present, the first is a good deal less binding than the latter.
It is still the habit of politicians to say that a President in office can always get his party’s nomination for a second term, and that no one can hope to wage a successful fight against him. That has always been accepted as the rule, and it has always worked out in practice. But we must consider what effect may have been made on this precedent and tradition by the arising of the direct primary. The old rule rests partly on the theory that when a President in office wants renomination, all the office-holders, from Cabinet members down to local postmasters, will work for him, and that their aggregate power in the nominating convention is impossible to overcome. So long as nominations were determined wholly by leaders in the convention, this was un- doubtedly true; and it is still true to the extent that nominations are made in the conventions.
But the invention of the device of Presi- dential primaries for choosing delegates to national conventions, to the extent to which it has gone—and it now covers almost half the total number of delegates—may possibly have affected this old tradition to a greater extent than the politicians realize. The direct primary first came into widespread use in the campaign between Taft and Roose- velt in 1912. It is true that in that case the old rule worked. Taft was the President in office, and Roosevelt was in the position of an outsider trying to take the nomination away from him; and Taft won. The outsider failed to win, although that outsider was the strong- est personality in the country, although his policies were extremely popular, and although
he was backed by abundance of resources and organization. But in that 1912 fight, the operations of the direct primary were more restricted than they would be now, because the number of states which choose their dele- gates to national conventions by means of direct primaries is considerably greater now than it was in 1912. (Since 1912 there has been no test of this rule, for in 1916 and in 1920 there was no case of a President in office seeking renomination against strong opposi- tion. In 1916 President Wilson had practi- cally no opposition for the nomination, and in 1920 the then President in office was in his second term and for other reasons was not available for renomination, so that the situa- tion did not arise.)
A TEST FOR THE PRIMARIES
T IS quite possible that if the right man—
and he would need to have exceptional qualifications—should determine to make an aggressive fight to take the next Republican nomination away from Harding, we might learn just how potent the Presidential pri- maries are, in the extent to which they have now spread. In the next Republican Na- tional Convention, the total number of dele- gates will be a little more than one thousand. Of these, 465 are chosen by the direct primary method. Obviously it would be possible for an opponent of President Harding to get all of these 465 and still have less than half of the convention. But the Presidential pri- mary is being extended. At the present mo- ment there are 43 state legislatures in session, and in nine of these there are pending efforts to adopt the direct primary system. The important state of New York, with its 88 delegates, is one of those in which the direct primary system may be adopted. (It is quite possible that by the time this article is printed or a little later, the direct primary will have been extended to cover considerably more than a majority of the delegates.)
Further than this, it would not be necessary for an opponent of President Harding to get the entire 465 delegates that come from direct primary states, in order to make Harding’s renomination doubtful. (In point of fact, in the present situation, Harding would be quite certain to get a considerable number of these direct primary delegates himself.) But the potency of an aggressive opposition to President Harding would not necessarily be



48
measured or limited by the number of direct primary delegates the opponent might get. If the opponent were the right man, if he had precisely the right adaptation to the popular mood, the degree of success which he would have in the direct primaries, even though it should be considerably short of majority of the whole convention, might still readily be such a demonstration of popular strength as would cause the party leaders, generally, including Harding himself, to take account of it.
But at this moment, the second of the two rules comes into effect. To take a specific example: Senator Hiram Johnson of Cali- fornia might be persuaded that if he should enter the direct primaries in the various states where they prevail, he might defeat Harding in state after state, and make such a showing that it would be clear to the voters, and to the country generally, that he, rather than Hard- ing, is the desired choice of the members of the party. But even if Senator Johnson and his friends were convinced of this, he would still be compelled to look in the face the dis- agreeable possibility that a nomination won with the bitterness which such a fight would entail, would turn out to be valueless. He might force the party leaders more or less un- willingly to nominate him. But afterward, in the ensuing election, there would be so much disapproval of his action, on the part of party leaders, that he could not count upon their enthusiasm in the coming election. Moreover, the nature of the contest would be such as to make it certain that many of the voters loyal to Harding would become dis- affected. And finally, in the process of defeating Harding for the nomination by an active fight, Johnson and his advocates would necessarily have uttered so much criticism of Harding and the Republican administration, that it would be a large contribution toward convincing the public that the best thing to do in the election would be to throw out the Republican party altogether, and elect a Democrat. It would be, as | have said, like fighting for the possession of a horse, and, in the struggle, killing the horse.
So much for the reasons which actuated the Republican party leaders in coming to a loose and tentative understanding that Harding should be nominated to succeed himself. In stating these reasons, one feels like hoping
Mark Sullivan
that not too much space has been consumed in an exposition of some of the arts of practical politics. It happens to be a field—this rule- of-thumb application of the principles of crowd psychology by shrewd men to the prac- tical business of achieving their purposes— in which the writer on his own part finds a degree of interest that almost approaches fascination.
CHANGES IN THE LAST MONTH
INCE the writing of the article last month, in which this understanding— somewhat tenuous and wholly tentative—to renominate Harding, was recorded, there have been some slight changes in the situation. It is a fact that the renomination of Harding continues to be the programme, and that any change in it, if it should happen at all, will not be likely to occur for five or six months or more. At the same time, there have been unmistakable developments of the sort that men active in politics or close to politics in the rdle of observers, are able to appraise —developments of which it can be said that they at least hint a little more, than was the case a month or two ago, toward potential opposition. So far as these developments point toward the emergence of any other in- dividual as a candidate formidable enough to disrupt the present programme, they revolve around Senator Hiram Johnson of California. It was shortly after the party leaders had more or less definitely arrived at the feeling that Harding must be renominated, that there arose the issue of America’s joining the Per- manent Court for International Justice. The history of that proposal was this: As much as a year or more ago, when this court was first organized, it was apparent that Secretary Hughes gave favorable thought to the idea of America becoming a party of its jurisdiction and a participant in its mechanism. During several months, diplomatic correspondence was carried on with the principal other nations in the court, looking to agreement on condi- tions under which the United States, not being a member of the League of Nations, and speci- fically dissenting from any willingness to join the League, could yet manage to become a party to the League’s court. These negotia- tions were completed, it was apparent to us here in Washington, and the proposal was ready to be submitted to the Senate, as early as a few days after the first of February. But


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at that time the Senate was engaged in a rather intense controversy over President Harding’s strongly held policy of a ship subsidy, a controversy of which the intensity included the use of the filibuster by the op- ponents of the project. President Harding, either because he did not want to throw an- other important proposal into this situation, or because of this reason in addition to others, withheld his message recommending our join- ing the court until a week and a day before the end of the session. The message reached the Senate late on a Saturday afternoon. The reaction of the Senate was one of strong sur- prise. To one who observed the incident closely, it appeared doubtful whether any man on the floor had been made aware that the proposal was coming. It is possible that Senator Lodge, to whom, as Chairman of the Committee on Foreign Relations, the pro- posal was of particular interest, may have been told in advance of its coming. But even this seemed doubtful. Certainly it seemed reasonable to say that probably every other Senator was surprised by the message.
“THE BATTALION OF DEATH”
FTER the individual Senators had con- sidered the matter over the leisure of a Sunday, there developed during the closing week of the session a line-up much the same as the fight over the League of Nations. It is true that the band of Senators who made the fight against the League of Nations, that group of advocates of the policy of isolation, who called themselves, with some pride in the terminology, “the battalion of death,” and “the irreconcilables,’’ have been dimin- ished lately by the defection of the man who was clearly the ablest among them, namely Senator Borah. But in spite of this defection, it is safe to say that this group is stronger now than it was at the time of the League of Na- tions fight. For one reason, they have so managed things during the past two years as to entrench themselves greatly in power within the Committee on Foreign Relations. Of the ten Republican members of that Com- mittee, five are avowed isolationists—and this number does not include the chairman, Senator Lodge, who, if he is to be classified, with one group or the other, certainly cannot be classified with those who believe in any strong measure of international codperation. It was to thisCommittee that President Hard-

Republican Presidential Timber 49


ing’s proposal about the Permanent Court for International Justice was referred; and the action of that Committee, while it was called by the euphemistic phrase of “ post- poning action until next December,’’ was more truly of the nature of opposition. Within
the Committee, within the Senate, and throughout the country, there arose a lineup of positions on the proposal. And in that lineup there was one man who came clearly to the front as the leader and spokesman of the opposition. That man was Senator Johnson. He put himself on record, not only unequivocally but with an aggressive forceful- ness that was the more forceful for being pun- gently phrased, directly in opposition to Harding’s advocacy of the Court. By that action, Senator Johnson raised an issue be- tween himself and Harding which, when it comes to be fought out within the Senate and before the country next fall, can hardly avoid taking a form which must have some relation to the next presidential nomination.
At the same time there arose, among some of the senators, and among some other party leaders throughout the country, a disposition (partially kept under cover for reasons for party morale) to put forward Senator Johnson for the Republican Presidential nomination as an alternative to Harding. Some of the reasons for this putting forward of Johnson were associated with his stand on the perma- nent court, and his opposition to President Harding’s advocacy of that proposal. That is to say, some of the impulse for this putting forward of Johnson came from his irreconcil- able associates, and had that as its motive. At the same time, no careful recorder of con- temporary American politics can fail to set down the fact that there are throughout the country some Republican leaders who take upon themselves no concern whatever about foreign policies, but are solely concerned with getting the maximum number of votes for the Republican ticket, with electing a maximum number of Republican sheriffs and other local Republican officials; and who, having only this practical concern, believe that Johnson would be a more vigorous campaigner, a more crowd-raising spell-binder, and in all respects a better vote-getter than Harding. The Republican senators and the other Republican leaders who entertain this restrained but nevertheless restless dissent from the pro- gramme of nominating Harding, include some


50 Mark Sullivan
men who are powerful in their own personali- ties, powerful in their communities, and power- ful in the Republican organization.
HOW FAR THE MOVEMENT HAS GONE
HIS sullen dissent from the programme
of nominating Harding, this restless wish, restrained with difficulty from open expres- sion, to put forward Johnson, either with the purpose of actually nominating Johnson or else using him to upset the programme, and throw the situation into a free-for-all-race— this is about as far as the movement has gone for the present. Further developments of it will probably await the return of Senator Johnson from Europe, at which time it will be put up to him, and a decision will be ar- rived at, in which decision Senator Johnson’s personal reaction to the urgings of the insur- gent and the discontented will have the chief weight. For the present, Senator Johnson’s reaction is what has already been indicated, namely, that he has no disposition to embark on the vain business of wresting a nomination away from Harding, which nomination, by the very act of wresting it, will be so mauled in the struggle that it will be valueless to the winner.
Of course, assuming that this development comes to anything at all, the form which it may ultimately take is by no means confined to that of a rough fight between these two contestants and these only. Indeed, that particular form is the least likely of the pos- sible ultimate results of this movement coming to anything. For if this situation should ever develop to the point where Senator Johnson makes war on Harding for the nomination, or permits his friends to make war on his be- half, there will instantly arise a condition which will transform the whole political situa- tion and out of which any one of several lay- outs may present itself. Any aggressive action on the part of Senator Johnson or his friends would be taken instantly as the signal that the pre-arranged programme as it now stands for the renomination of Harding with- out serious opposition, is off, and that the race is to be a free-for-all. The same result would follow if President Harding himself should de- cide, either for personal reasons or because he finds implacable opposition within his party to his advocacy of the international court, to step aside from the race. (As a matter of fact, any aggressive initiative on the part of

Senator Johnson or his friends would have as its true object, not so much a fight to the finish between him and Harding, but rather the making of such a demonstration of popu- lar strength behind Johnson and his policy as to intimidate Harding into stepping aside.) In the free-for-all race which will follow any action in the nature of abandoning the present programme of nominating Harding without formidable opposition, several other figures would come to the front. Some of them might come to the front through the will of Harding himself. That is to say, if Harding for any reason, personal or otherwise, should determine to step aside, he would be urged strongly by many of his friends to couple that abdication with an effort to pass on his mantle to some member of his cabinet like Hoover, or to some other choice of himself and those leaders who compose his loyal support.
THE SENIOR SENATOR FROM IDAHO
N ANY free-for-all race that might develop,
Senator Borah would become a serious possibility. Borah has probably as large a personal following as any other one man in American public life. Among this following there are many who already are either urging Borah to become a candidate, or else, without saying anything to him, are taking tentative steps to start an organization for him. To all this sort of thing Borah’s reaction at this time is much the same as Senator Johnson’s is for the present; namely, that he takes no interest in the futile business of making a fight against President Harding, which fight, in the very making of it, would have, more than any other effect, that of providing arguments and building up public emotions of a sort likely to cause the public to turn away from any Republican whatever, and to vote for the Democratic nominee. But while this reasoning is a determining factor with Senator Borah so long as the present pro- gramme continues, it would disappear, ob- viously, with any transformation of it into an open race.
Another man who would probably be in- jected into the situation, if it should turn into a free-for-all, is ex-Senator Beveridge of Indiana. It is true that Mr. Beveridge was defeated last fall in his race for Senator from Indiana; and true also that there is another of those rule-of-thumb axioms of practical politics, similar to the ones already mentioned,

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which says that a man who has been defeated
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Presidential race. But the leaders who know this rule and ordinarily abide by it, know also that the particular circumstances of Mr. Beveridge’s defeat in Indiana last November were such as to remove him from the opera- tion of the rule. There is not space here to go into the details of that local Indiana case, but it is a fact that the circumstances of Beveridge’s defeat were such that they could be capitalized in a way to make that defeat, not a liability, but actually as asset to him as a candidate for the Republican presidential nomination. For the present, Beveridge is following a course which seems to negative any thought of putting him forward for the presidency. Immediately after his defeat last fall he set to work upon the writing of a life of Lincoln, analogous to his already completed life of John Marshall. In writing his Mar- shall, Beveridge spent probably the equiva- lent of five years of continuous labor. He made not merely a life of Marshall but a his- tory of America during the period when Mar- shall was to the front. In the writing of it the author put an amount of research which de- veloped a quantity of new material that is astonishing considering the time that has elapsed since Marshall’s death and the num- ber of other writers who have already covered that period of American history. To dupli- cate in the case of Lincoln what has been done in the case of Marshall, would be an exception- ally absorbing and time-consuming labor. To carry it on at the same time with a candidacy for the Presidency would be impossible. |n- asmuch as Beveridge is already in the swing of it and is absorbed in it with the intensity that any such work involves, it would prob- ably take the strongest sort of urging to per- suade him to any other endeavor in the field of politics. And yet there are so many per- sons who believe that Beveridge is peculiarly adapted to the need of the times, so peculiarly available for gathering together the largest number of factions of the Republican party that, in the event of any open race for the Republican nomination, he is sure to be made the object of strong urgings. His lifelong identification with such concrete idealism as his work for measures preventing child labor, and his formal identification with Roosevelt and the old Progressive party, make him ac-


Republican Presidential Timber 51

ceptable to the less extremely radical, at least, of the group that call themselves progressive Republicans. At the same time, the boldness —in which respect he is unique among Re- publican leaders—with which he advocates the revision of taxation in the interest of busi- ness, and the rescue of business from much of the government interference which now harasses it, has caused many of the most conspicuous and forceful of those elements of the Republican party which are frankly conservative, to think of him as providing a more dependable promise of the things they wish for than any other Republican possibility.
LOWDEN OF ILLINOIS
NOTHER figure who might readily emerge in the event of any open race is ex-Governor Lowden of Illinois. There are strong reasons for both an impulse within himself and a pressure from without to push Lowden forward. Lowden came close to winning the 1920 nomination. The causes of his failure were largely accidental and ad- ventitious. One of the chief of them was the explosion of a scandal involving the use of money by some of those who were promoting his candidacy in one of the states. The actual circumstances of this case were such that they cast no discredit on Lowden personally. But the incident happened at a time when it was too late to overtake the adverse impression which arose. To have been kept from the prize by this and other circumstances equally adventitious, must create in any man just the sort of psychology that gives him a strong motive for vindication. Further than this, it is strongly in the minds of many of those who are most thoughtful in the development of public opinion, that Governor Lowden’s record commends him peculiarly for one of the most serious needs of the times. Lowden as governor of Illinois made a record for the achievement of economy and efficiency in state government probably not equalled by any other governor or any other man in public life. To those who think that economy and efficiency in government—to repeat a trite phrase—is one of the most serious needs of the times, Governor Lowden makes a strong appeal.
Yet another figure who would be put for- ward, if the race should become an open one, is Governor Pinchot of Pennsylvania. Those idealists who composed the fighting front of



52
the old Roosevelt progressive movement would never be willing to let the next Repub- lican presidential nomination go by default. To a considerable extent they would be gal- vanized into action by the candidacy of John- son of California. Ten years ago, they recognized Johnson as one of themselves. “Many of them still regard him so. But con- siderable numbers of them—and they include the ones who were the most ardent idealists —are aggrieved by Johnson’s more recent closeness to the regular wing of the party. These more deeply moving spirits of the old Roosevelt group tend to think of Johnson as in one degree or another a backslider; and, having the feeling which the orthodox usually have for the apostate, they would be more shocked at the nomination of Johnson than at that of an avowed and consistent regular. These more ardent of the old Roosevelt ideal- ists would never be content to have the race go on without being represented by one of the true faith, and Pinchot would appeal to them completely.
WHAT LAFOLLETTE WILL DO
HERE remains to be mentioned one who
will be in the race whether Harding runs or does not run, whether Johnson runs or does not run—who will make the fight under any set of circumstances that may arise. Probably it can be said of LaFollette that he is more certain to be in the race than any other one man. .And with equal certainty it can be said he is more certain to lose than any other man already mentioned or likely to be mentioned. But that certainty will not deter LaFollette from putting his shoulder to the wheel of what he regards as a sacred duty. LaFollette is of that temperament that gathers intensity of determination from the very hopelessness of the fight. It is this quality that gives LaFollette a value in our public life difficult to bear in mind, and hard to persuade others to concede, at this time of great popular disapproval of him. The con- tribution that men of LaFollette’s tempera- ment make to the public good, in spite of their stridency, their soured bitterness, their stub- bornness, their frequent unreason—the con-
Mark Sullivan
tribution which they make in spite of all these qualities, is their willingness to give sustained expression to causes with which the majority of us disagree, the support and advocacy they give to little minorities who so frequently are almost savagely proscribed by our often intolerant majorities. The usefulness of men like LaFollette—most desirable to remember in proportion as he is now deeply disapproved —is that such men are willing to be the vehicle for the first expression of causes not yet popu- lar, as well as for the last expression of causes that have lost and become outlawed. Any one of us who finds himself, in a moment of irritation, tempted to go to extremes in ut- tering regret over some of LaFollette’s recent actions and his present prevailing attitude, must be restrained if he yields to a moment of thought in which to reflect that no one can tell when the occasion may arise in which LaFollette’s lone courage—a courage whose outstanding quality is that it exults in its solitariness—may be our only reliance to give voice to some great but temporarily un- popular need.
But when all has been said that can be said in kindly remembrance of the time when LaFollette was the hard-fighting pioneer of issues which have since won to popular ap- proval—the regulation of railroads, the direct primary, the increased taxation of wealth— when all has been said that must in justice be said of the earlier LaFollette, it must there- after be said that in his present mood of al- most morbid truculence, he gives justi- fication to those, including many of his old followers, who regard him as not only not useful, but actually the stirrer-up of more troubles in an already too-troubled world; and for the present not in tune with the emo- tions or the real needs of any except a com- paratively minute section of the American people. He will be a candidate for the Republican nomination, he will remain a candidate until the last ballot of the conven- tion, he will have the delegates from his own state and scattering fragments from other state delegations; but the total of his strength at any time will probably not reach as much as one-tenth of the convention.


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THE SILENT SALESMAN
Advertising: Its Methods and Its Psychology.
How It Has
Lessened Costs to Consumers by Giving Volume to Sales
By FLOYD W. PARSONS
DVERTISING is the most widely discussed subject in business to- day. Does it really pay? Isita boon to humanity, or a burden? Does it increase or reduce the costs
of commodities? Is it an art that can be carried on in accordance with established rules of a scientific nature? Is it a factor in ad- vancing civilization, or merely a_ business expense?
It is doubtless true that advertising is the most common activity in which civilized peo- ple are now engaged. It is an ancient busi- ness, for Pompeii, like New York, had its “Great White Way.” Pedestrians passing along the crowded thoroughfares of Hercu- laneum were confronted by advertisements of plays, gladiatorial contests, salt and fresh- water baths, luridly and permanently done in colors, red and black predominating. Cen- turies ago, in Egypt, the capture of runaway slaves was often effected through the distri- bution of hand-bills and posters made of papyrus, containing a description of the fugitive and naming a reward for capture. The fact is that the moment each family ceased to be an entirely independent group, and the head of the house gave up the making of shoes, clothing, and other necessities to engage in a single pursuit, advertising com- menced.
The ballyhoos of our amusement parks and seaside resorts, with their raucous entreaties, are only twentieth-century models of the town criers of the Middle Ages, who came out into the market place and. shouted their news to the passing throng. In early times, the tradesmen or their apprentices cried out their wares at the shop doors. Even to-day this practice is followed in some Yiddish sections of our big cities.
If our ideas and knowledge concerning advertising had been as great years ago as to- day, civilization would have advanced more rapidly. Advertising is the only force that
can be employed successfully to counteract the natural hostility of the public toward all radical change or innovation. People did not want the railroad, and the introduction of steam transportation was seriously delayed by the prevalence of the notion that a speed of thirty or more miles an hour would greatly hinder the free circulation of the blood. Ful- ton and his steamboat were held up to ridi- cule, and Brunel, who piloted the first steam- boat on the Thames, became so unpopular he was refused admission in the London hotels. The first sewing-machine placed on exhibition by Howe was smashed by a mob. Westinghouse was called a fool by railroad experts, and Murdoch was sneered at-because he suggested the use of gas for light. The public was sure there could be no lamp with- out a wick.
To-day we know better than to try and introduce something new without first creat- ing an understanding of the thing and a de- mand for it. If Morse could have used modern advertising, he would not have had to plead for years before Congress and the public in order to get attention for the tele- graph. Neither would McCormick have had to preach efficient harvesting by word of mouth for fifteen years in his effort to intro- duce the mechanical reaper. Publicity or advertising, as now conducted, would have made a market for all of these inventions in short order.
Advertising was haphazard; now it is or- ganized. A generation ago it did not enjoy the prestige now accorded it. Then it was held to be dishonorable for one merchant to attempt to entice away the customer of an- other. At present, advertising is the soul of business. Professional men in various lines still believe it is unethical to advertise their skill, but one day this idea also will be swept away, and doctors, lawyers, clergymen, and others will be able to use the printed page for dignified advertising without losing caste


TIMES SQUARE,
Floyd W. Parsons

© Ewing Galloway
NEW YORK
Showing a small part of the vast collection of electric signs
that have made Broadway into
in the community. Mark Twain, when edi- tor of a small-town paper, received a letter from a superstitious subscriber, saying he had found a spider in his paper, and asking whether that was a sign of good luck or bad. The humorist printed the following answer: “Finding a spider in your paper was neither good luck nor bad luck for you. The spider was merely looking over the paper to see which merchant is not advertising, so he can go to that store, spin his web across the door and lead a life of undisturbed peace ever afterward!”’
Forty years ago a daily newspaper was sup- ported by its subscribers, advertising yield- ing no more than one third of the total re- ceipts. At the present time, the advertising yield on many papers averages-as high as 90 per cent., while the revenue from subscrip- tions is practically negligible. Not only the press now depends upon advertising, but the vast public as well. Advertising pays be- cause people read it. Many individuals scan the advertising pages of a newspaper or a periodical before they read the stories and articles. Dunne’s inimitable “Mr. Dooley”’ was made to say, in his characteristic way: “What | object to is whin | pay tin or fifteen cents for a magazine, expectin’ to spind me
“the great white way”’
avenin’ improvin’ me mind with the latest thoughts in advertisin’, to find more thin a quatter of the book devoted to literachoor.”’ The best estimates indicate that at the present time the total annual expenditure for advertising in the United States alone amounts to nearly two billion dollars. Many retail stores spend as much as 5 per cent. of their expected sales on advertising. It is seldom that this expenditure by a progressive merchant is less than 2 percent. The United States, with its 25,000 newspapers and period- icals, is the greatest field for advertising in the world. It is also interesting to note that there are more than 525 advertising agencies in the United States. Some of these com- panies have large organizations and handle millions of dollars’ worth of advertising each year. Approximately $50,000,000 is now invested annually in making specialties for use in advertising, such as calendars, memor- andum books, etc. In the neighborhood of 7,000 students are now enrolled in advertis- ing courses in thirty-four American colleges and universities. Several thousand addi- tional students are preparing for advertising careers in Y.M.C.A. schools, commercial schools, correspondence schools, and various other similar institutions. This is not a bad
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The Silent Salesman 55
showing, considering that advertising courses in schools and colleges are a development of the last decade.
Business history has shown that widely ad- vertised goods are the last to feel a general industrial depression. An investigation of the business failures occurring in the United States during the recent depression showed that 84 per cent. were firms that did not ad- vertise. One writer draws the conclusion that there is an implied contract with the public in honest advertising which tends to keep a firm’s affairs straight.
Not many years ago, one hundred dollars a page was considered a high average rate for advertising. To-day a number of firms appro- priate more than a million dollars a year each for advertising, while advertisements in some of our great national papers are considered bargains at a hundred dollars a column-inch. It is not surprising, therefore, that advertis- ing definitely molds the habits of a people. It exerts a greater influence on the public mind than most people imagine. Many people can name several brands of cigarettes, toothpaste, or breakfast food, who couldn't possibly tell you the name of the vice-presi- dent of the nation. In recent years the pub-
lic taste has been mounting steadily, due to the educational influence of advertising. It is the advertisements people read which give them their impressions of what a first-rate article should be.
Not long ago a famous store in a big East- ern city spent several thousand dollars ad- vertising a coming sale of muslin. The ap- propriation to cover the advertisements was based on a figure which the company believed would amount to no more than 3 per cent. of the sales. Never before had so much money been expended in advertising a special sale of a single cheap commodity. Some members of the firm believed the venture foolish and predicted a loss. . Much to their surprise, the sale was a record success, notwithstanding the extremely low price charged for the goods. More than 100,000 yards of muslin were dis- posed of, and, because of this huge turnover, the company secured for itself a profit, and the purchasers of the muslin benefited through getting the material at a price which could not have been placed on the goods if it had not been for the enormous volume of the sale, due to such wide advertising. The public too often ignores the value of advertising to them. Overhead charges and selling costs


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SIGN BOARDS AROUND A BASEBALL PARK
Where thousandsof people congregate almost daily throughout the long baseball season. This baseball park is the Polo Grounds, New York



56 Floyd W. are reduced in proportion as the total volume of business increases.
Nothing is more amazing than the values which have been created in the way of trade- marks for companies that have engaged in extensive advertising’ campaigns. In _ the case of many companies, the trade-mark of the concern has a value far greater than that of the total equipment of the corporation’s plants. One company doing an international business and using a trade-mark composed of six letters, now places a value of a million dollars on each letter. It is doubtless true that any one of a dozen well known trade- marks which appear regularly in the country’s periodicals, has a value of from five to ten million dollars.
Our conception of advertising is quite different from what it used to be. Big cor- porations are now content to work for the ad- vancement of the industry they form a part of, knowing full well that whatever benefits and enlarges their industry brings a share of profit to themselves. One great railroad has figured out that each new family settling in one of the states the road traverses, is worth no less than three hundred dollars to the transportation system. Having this thought in mind, the country’s important carriers now coéperate with Chambers of Commerce and state officials in the work of bringing new in- dustries and desirable settlers into the regions they serve. Many of the railroad advertise- ments tell of the specific needs of certain towns, and the willingness of the people to welcome new citizens. Many of the railroads can tell you quicker than any one else which town needs a drug-store and which one a lumber mill or shoe factory. All of which shows the tendency of present advertising.
Advertising methods of the past were rather poor, and the advertisements them- selves often misleading. As a result, even conservative and legitimate publicity was looked upon with disfavor for many years. The chief essentials in advertising to-day are truth and accuracy. No longer do huge ad- vertising campaigns arouse astonishment and suspicion. The selling news furnished by the modern advertiser is a real boon to the busy housewife, as well as to those engaged in pursuits outside of the home, and who have so little time in which to shop. If advertis- ing did nothing else, it would be worth while as a conservator of energy in shopping.

Parsons
Startling advertisements are of no value unless they sell goods. A writer once said that the test of a preacher was not when his flock came out of the church raving about his marvelous eloquence and oratory, but when they emerged quietly, saying, perhaps only to themselves, “1 will do something!” We may hear great orators and be satisfied with their eloquence, but the preachers worth while are the ones who make us dissatisfied with ourselves. So in advertising, the writer must make each reader dissatisfied with him- self until he follows the suggestion contained in the advertisement.
Short advertisements, like short editorials, are exceedingly difficult to write. Advertis- ing men who work under pressure usually have time to write long advertisements, but seldom can spare the time to prepare high- class short ones. It is said that Roosevelt received a dollar a word for his work on Africa. No one will deny that this was an unusually high rate of payment, but it is far less than the words of an advertisement writer cost a company that is staging a national campaign.
No man ever made a success in advertising writing who lacked a deep understanding of human nature. P. T. Barnum made a great success of advertising before he went into the circus business. The success of the Jenny Lind concerts in America were largely due to his admirable publicity campaign. Every advertisement must be harnessed to some human motive, instinct, or passion, and then human nature will be sure to finish the job so well started.
The man or woman who would win in ad- vertising must, above all else, be a psycholog- ist. In ages past, and even to-day, of all things human, physical or material, seemingly the most lawless is the mind of man. In our thoughts we often pass from the dark ages to future times in the fraction of a second. With- out doubt, the mind is the least confined force in the universe. As a consequence, it has been a difficult job to find laws that accu- rately cover mind action.
One authority states that the qualities essential for good advertising are, first, ima- gination; second, knowledge of human na- ture, and third, a little more knowledge of human nature. A _ high-grade advertising writer must possess enthusiasm and _ versa- tility. He must be able to understand a business possibility and present it in language
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The Silent Salesman


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A TYPICAL STREET IN A TYPICAL Shelton Square and Main Street, Buffalo, New York, showin
stores, hotels,
that is clear, simple, and forceful. He must possess artistic. ability and be capable in conducting research. He must have selective power, to take the smallest number of facts and make the maximum impression out of them. He should have at least a good aca- demic education, although a college diploma is not necessary. Training in merchandise and selling, printing and engraving and news- paper reporting are all assets. Many of our successful adwriters were once traveling salesmen. Above all, the advertising man should have a thorough knowledge of the business he is writing about. If it is a large manufacturing concern, he should have a working knowledge of most of the machinery. Too few advertising men realize the impor- tance of thoroughly familiarizing themselves not only with the processes employed in the industry or business they serve, but of learn- ing the essential facts concerning the raw ma- terials used and the sources of supply for these materials.
The advertising man must be original. Most successful careers in publicity work can be dated from the execution of some new idea. Among the schemes that have netted results a few may be mentioned: One cam-
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paign emphasized the defects of certain articles. The goods were marked at a very low selling figure and the reduction was ad- vertised as due to the articles being slightly soiled. The frankness of the advertiser made a strong appeal, and this same plan is now used often.
One writer of advertisements who has made a notable success in advertising by mail writes practically all of his circulars in narrative form. He believes that the closer a selling talk approximates to the shape of a story, the more effective it will be found. Actual concrete descriptions in advertising hold attention better than recitals in the abstract. It is always better to follow the line of least resistance, in language as well as in ideas and style. The language of the man on the street may not be highly literary, but it is the kind of talk that will be read with the closest attention.
The advertising writer must be analytical and observant of details. The most cele- brated followers of the profession attribute their success to confidence-breeding copy. Exaggeration is ruinous. One director of publicity never makes a new move without arranging in some way to secure a check on



58 Floyd W. results. He found on test that it is best to affix stamps to return postal cards mailed to homes, while it is not necessary to place stamps on cards sent to offices. In many homes stamps are not available, and because of the lack of a stamp the possible customer defers action and finally loses interest. It was also discovered that it was wiser and more economical to get out 50,000 really artistic booklets at twenty cents each if the waste is only 15 per cent., than 50,000 unattractive booklets at five cents each if the waste is 85 per cent. This same advertiser successfully used a night-letter telegraph form in con- ducting a selling campaign by circular letters. The telegram was enclosed with the letter for reply, and was addressed to the advertiser and marked collect. All the purchaser had to do was to write in a few words and sign the wire. A great idea in advertising to-day is to get up a jingle, maxim, word, or phrase that the public will take up and pass on from one to another. “You press the button and we do the rest,’ was first stated in an advertisement. Although science has largely dispensed with the button, the saying remains. Sermons have been preached and editorials written about some of the famous character figures of advertising. Words coined by companies to designate certain of their products have found their way into the dictionaries. The special name “ kodak,” although only a brand or trade-mark, is about as well known as the common word, “camera,’’ and is erroneously applied to all makes of portable hand cameras. One leader in national publicity work who has made a deep study of advertising stated to me his philosophy concerning the business, and some of his views will doubtless prove interesting and instructive. It is human nature to believe first on instinctive grounds, and only seek for logical reasons or justifica- tion afterward when the initial belief is challenged. As a consequence, the clever advertiser first seduces and persuades the reader with an emotional appeal and then follows with his logical arguments. The advertisement must hang together if it would be remembered, and generally must be pleas- ant to hold interest. Advertisements that are 100 per cent. human-nature copy lack convinc- ing reasons and seldom bring buying action. The occupations and sex of people deter- mine the tendencies of their minds and the character of their thoughts. Men agree more

Parsons
closely in their preferences, and women are more alike in their dislikes. Size catches women more often than men. Blue attracts men, while red appeals to women. Pictures catch men; personal appeals women. Gen- erally speaking, women can write the best advertisements intended to attract their own sex. When writing advertisements for women readers, most men seem to get effeminate and fancy in their style. In most cases photo- graphs are more effective than drawings. Return coupons are valuable. They contain a command, and tend to overcome laziness. People will read, but dislike to write. It is use- less to try to influence the minds of others un- less you know in what terms they are thinking.
Experiment has shown that a single mind can attend to only four words or objects at once—four pictures, four letters, or four figures. A four-word line is ideal. Power of attraction depends on the number of counter-attractions. Whenan advertisement contain. a half-dozen or more displays, each one acts as a counterattraction to the others. The hoot of anowl at midnight has fewcounter attractions. Attention value depends upon contrast. We see each page of a magazine in relation to what has gone before. Novel things and sudden changes gain attention. When a concern produces two or more pro- ducts, it is always well to identify the different advertisements with the producing company. This can be done by using a common seal or border. Always when the advertisement is changed, some characteristic feature should remain constant so the public will recognize the advertisement as an old friend.
Don’t try to move the public mind too suddenly. Don’t try to crowd too many things into one advertisement. Don’t use descriptions made up of technical terms. Don’t talk over your readers’ heads. Don’t forget that the success of an advertisement depends largely on the wise choice of type and illustration. Don’t overlook the fact that women direct the consumption of 85 per cent. of the country’s total productions. Don't forget there is a lot of human interest con- nected with all merchandise, and remember it is Wise to stress the element of public service in a business. If building for a long, bright future, keep in mind that impressions formed in youth are the most lasting, so try and educate the children of to-day; they will do the buying of to-morrow.
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The Silent Salesman 59






A COUNTRY STORE AND POST OFFICE
With signs advertising for the country dweller the same commodities that are ad- vertised on city signs and in the pages of newspapers and magazines
Even in the matter of window displays there is a great opportunity for expert treatment of the goods that are shown, and it is for this rea- son that comparatively large salaries are paid to the window trimmers of our big retail stores. It is generally believed that the average passer-by will look first to the right hand corner, and this is why most trimmers place the leading article on display in the right-hand corner of the window. The ex- perts of the big stores never make the mistake of overdressing their windows—that is, dis- playing too great a variety of goods. A win- dow may present a pleasing picture, and yet fail to sell goods, because the background draws all the attention. It is best to show a few articles and have them appear against a background that is as nearly as possible identical with the actual background they would appear against in every-day use. Store windows become efficient salesmen when properly handled.
Advertising possesses numerous advantages over other selling methods. The average advertisement may repeat its appeal, while the salesman must say his little piece and leave. It is paid for once and for all. It
reaches the people the salesman couldn’t meet, never gets sick, and works on Sunday. Hundreds of commodities have been made easy to use, convenient, and economical of time in handling, through the persistent de- mands of the advertisement writer for an article of greater merit.
Our advertising methods are far from per- fect. There is the story of the American who was piloting an Englishman about New York’s theatrical centre one evening. Suddenly the American stopped and pointed upward. “See that sign?”’ he said with enthusiasm and somewhat of pride. The Englishman said something about “not being able to help it.” “It has 50,000 lights in it!’’ continued the American. “But, my dear chap,” replied the Englishman, “doesn’t that make it fright- fully conspicuous?’ Undoubtedly a lot of Americans hold a view on advertising quite like that of the Britisher, and perhaps there is merit in the thought that advertising in one way or another can be overdone. How- ever, if the dollar profits of a concern are ac- cepted as the gauge of the value of advertising, there is far more to be feared from whispering down a well than from shouting from a tree.




PLANTING TREES TO SERVE
OUR CHILDREN
The Need for More Forests, and How Pennsylvania Has Gone About Getting
Them.
The Cost of Carelessness, and How Foresight Can be Made to Pay
By LEWIS EDWIN THEISS
ETWEEN the years of 1870 and
1890, the state of Pennsylvania
was the greatest logging camp in
the world, supplying the bulk of
the lumber for the entire United
States. To-day, the state of Pennsylvania is producing barely enough timber to make coffins for the Pennsylvanians who die. There is not one stick remaining for the living.
Throughout the nation as a whole the situa- tion is not much better. Four fifths of our original forests have been destroyed. In the area that remains, we are cutting timber four times as fast as it is growing.
What is worse, we are not merely cutting the timber; we are destroying the forests. When Columbus first set foot on the New World, the 28,000,000 acres that are now Pennsylvania were covered, save for lakes and streams, with the densest stands of the finest timber in the world. Of these 28,000,000 acres, 13,000,000 are naturally forest land—rough, rugged mountain land that can never be farmed and that is fit for nothing but the production of timber. No- where in the world has finer timber grown than grew on these 13,000,000 acres. The reckless logger with his conscienceless cutting, and the careless camper with his unextin- guished cigarette, have undone in a few short years what it took nature uncounted cen- turies to accomplish. To-day six of those thirteen million acres are absolute desert, as bare and dreary and unproductive as Sahara itself. Not only is the forest gone, but the very soil itself has vanished, leaving nothing but the bare, hideous, unproductive rocks, on which practically nothing will grow.
«The forest area thus denuded in Pennsyl- vania alone is practically as large as the states of Rhode Island and Connecticut combined. And in the entire nation the forest area thus changed to an appalling desert now totals

81,000,000 acres—a space almost fourteen times as vast as the combined area of Rhode Island and Connecticut. And every year it is growing larger. New England was the first to be shorn of her large commercial stands of timber. It took a long time to exhaust this Eastern supply, for the nation was then small. Pennsylvania became next the great producer of lumber. Now our commercial supplies come from the South. A dozen years will see this Southern lumber practically exhausted. Already we are drawing heavily on the timber of the far West. Twenty-five years after the Southern supply is used up, wood will be scarce in the far West also. Our generation will see the day when wood is as scarce as coal was last winter. And our children will be pinched for wood far worse than any of us.
Yet this nation cannot continue to grow without lumber. Wood we must have. Wood we shall have. But we shall have to get it abroad, in the markets of the world, in competition with all the remainder of the earth. Europe, with one fourth of its area long under scientific forest culture, cannot begin to supply itself with wood. When we invade the markets whence Europe draws large supplies of wood, the competition will be deadly. For it will be a matter of life and death to the nations. Not only shall we have to buy our wood abroad, but we shall have to make sure we can get the wood home after we have bought it. We must be able to protect our lines of communication in times of war as well as in peace. And that means a larger navy or its equivalent. Had you thought of that? No matter if we do have treaties limiting naval armament; before economic facts, treaties are scraps of paper.
1 live in central Pennsylvania. When we got out lumber at home, we Pennsylvanians paid practically nothing for freight. Even
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Planting’ Trees to Serve Our Children
dwellers in New York or New England paid
. very little freight charges on our lumber, be-
cause rates were low and the distance was but a step. It is far different in the case of pres- ent supplies. To-day it costs $150 to $200 to bring a single car of lumber from the South to central Pennsyivania, and $400 to $500 to bring a car from the far West. My lumber dealer told me that during the war he paid as much as $800 freight on a single carload. A car contains twenty to twenty-five thousand feet of lumber. Thus the freight adds ten to twenty dollars a thousand tothe coast. A few years ago we could buy a thousand feet of lumber in Pennsylvania for that sum; anda few years earlier, we could buy two thousand feet for the present cost of freight alone on one thousand!
Indeed, the rise in the price of wood is al- most past belief. The carpenter who built a wing to our house this past summer worked,
61
when a very young man, in the Pennsylvania “lumber woods.” That was thirty years or so ago. He says that in those days they were glad to get $7 a thousand feet for first-class hemlock at the mill, sawed and ready for use. Yellow pine sold for the same price. As late as 1889 good hemlock boards sold hereabout for $8 a thousand. And in those days an inch board was an inch thick and not thirteen sixteenths or seven eights of an inch. Fur- thermore, it was clear, knotless heart wood.
From the account books of a man now long dead, come these figures. In 1835 he bought 700 feet of plank for $7 and 873 feet of white pine boards for $7.86.
Five years later, in 1842, he bought 234 feet of white pine plank for $1.63, and in 1854 he purchased 2,200 feet of white pine boards for $22.50.
About 1855 prices began to move up a bit. The same account book shows purchases that

GOVERNOR PINCHOT OF PENNSYLVANIA
The prime mover in conservation, whose able work in Pennsylvania in recreating forests will serve the people of that state in the years to come


62
year of 1,838 feet of lumber for $27.57, and 339 feet of white pine boards for $5. The following year, 72 feet of white pine boards cost the purchaser $1.08. In 1860 the price of white pine was $16. a thousand. In 1870 clean white pine could be had for $25 a thousand. A man who built his home in 1896 told me that even then he got his hemlock bill lumber for $11 a thousand, good Georgia yellow pine for $16, and four-panel doors, one and one-fourth inches thick, for $1.50 each. An old lady who owned a farm, read me an item in her old account book, showing that in 1900 she bought 4,600 feet of rough boards for her barn at $14 a thousand. In 1915 we enlarged our own barn. Similar boards then cost $25 a thousand.
But it is not alone the cost of houses that will increase with this added cost of lumber. What about the things made of wood that are needed in the house? | have been talking with folks whose memories and account books give a pretty accurate idea of the cost of wooden articles twenty-five to forty years ago. One of these persons told me that when he was married he bought six excellent dining- room chairs for one dollar each. To-day such chairs would cost $3 to $5 apiece. His eight-foot oak extension-table cost $6.25.
Lewis Edwin Theiss
To-day it would cost $20 and upward— mostly upward. His kitchen cabinet cost $7. A similar one to-day would cost four to six times as much. In 1900 one could buy for twenty-five cents a pastry board that to- day would cost $1.25.
The old lady who told me the price of boards for her barn, has a bedroom set still in good condition that she bought forty-five years ago. She got the set complete for $25.
If you look at catalogues of furniture and wooden furnishings, you will see that rel- atively they have kept pace with the in- creasing price of lumber. Probably no one living, and no one to live for years to come, will see lumber grow cheaper. On the con- trary, the cost of lumber will mount steadily; and with that mounting cost, the price of wooden articles is also certain to climb up- ward.
But the cost of forest destruction does not end with high prices for dwellings and furnishings. We must have water, even before we have homes. Where present sup- plies are inadequate, we must pay higher taxes to secure larger supplies. And as the forests disappear, the water supply dwindles.
Too late we have arrived at a comprehen-
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SEEDLING TREES The lath roof gives much the same protection to the seedling trees as do the grown trees of a forest
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1. S. Forest Service
THE SAVENAC NURSERY, LOLO NATIONAL FOREST, MONTANA
sion of the fact that denuded water-sheds mean diminished supplies of water. Land like those six million acres of forest-desert in Pennsylvania is in no wise different from a tin roof. The water runs off of it as fast as it falls on it. A few hours after a storm, both a tin roof and a forest-desert are dry.
Nature’s plan of irrigating crops is a won- derful one. She sends copious rains in spring. The soft and spongy floor of the vast areas of wooded upland catch and retain billions of gallons of this water supply. Gradually the water drains into the springs, which in turn feed the brooks, while they swell the rivers. When this ample reservoir is filled, Nature turns off the rainfall, and the earth dries so that man can work it. But all summer long abundant water for agricultural needs con- tinues to pour out of the mountain reservoirs. And when this water has reached the sea, it is lifted through evaporation, carried inland in clouds by the winds, and once more dropped as rain on the mountains. That is Nature’s plan of irrigation. It is unbeatable. And so long as man does not upset Nature’s plan it works perfectly.
But what happens when the water-sheds are denuded of timber? The spring rains
This is one of the largest nurseries in the country engaged in raising seedling for reforestation


run off like water from the roof. Disastrous floods follow. Then, if the season happens to be a dry one, like last summer, come equally disastrous droughts. Last fall, we folks in Pennsylvania had a hard time to get water. Thousands of farmers had to haul water from distant sources for domestic use and for cattle. With farm animals needing several gallons of water apiece daily, this is a pretty serious matter. Under such conditions, it is next to impossible to supply all the water the animals need. That means, among other things, that cows fall off badly in milk pro- duction. Decreased milk flow means higher prices for milk and butter. And the people of this country are to-day paying more for their dairy products than they would have paid had it not been for the water failure last summer.
They are paying more for coal, too. Mines cannot be operated without abundant water. The railroads organized water trains to try to keep the mines in Pennsylvania supplied with water. Day and night these long trains of tank cars shuttled back and forth between the mines and the nearest sources of supply, to keep the mines open. Yet many mines closed, or worked part time, some because


64

Lewis Edwin Theiss



LOGS FOR A PAPER MILL The supplies of lumber required for the paper needs of the country are themselves huge, but are only a small part
of the grand total required by the country.
they couldn’t get water, and some because the railroads could not haul away the coal fast enough. Every train that hauled water meant just one less train that might have been hauling coal.
Cities and towns by the score in Pennsyl- vania were out of water, or so nearly out that water was allowed to be drawn from the mains only during brief, limited periods each day. We people of Pennsylvania faced the most serious situation with regard to coal and water that we have ever faced. We could not get coal in adequate quantities, even though we live near the mines. We are indeed paying the price for all our forest de- struction.
We might have foreseen—should have fore- seen—these things, had we listened to the voice of one crying in the wilderness, ‘‘Con- serve! Conserve! You are squandering your greatest heritage as a nation. Make straight the path of conservation!’’ The prophet was Gifford Pinchot, fighting Ballingerism, to save for the nation at large its priceless stands of timber. And we replied, as people tradition- ally do to prophets. “Crucify him!’ So Uncle Sam’s chief forester was retired to pri-
Much of our paper comes from Canada, where this picture was taken
vate life because he dared to tell the truth, and apparently buried for all time.
There are men, however, who, like Ban- quo’s ghost, will not down. Gifford Pinchot came home to Pennsylvania and bided his time. In due course came a Governor, William C. Sproul, who also loved the forests, and whose sense of fitness led him to appoint Gifford Pinchot as a member of the Penn- sylvania Forestry Commission, which bears much the same relation to the state forests that trustees do to an institution. Another appointee was Col. Henry W. Shoemaker, who is likewise an ardent conservationist. And both men were firm in the belief that public office is a public trust.
So they went into the state forests and found things not at all to their liking. They told the governor that the Forestry Depart- ment was mismanaged, that the office end of it was being run by politicians for politicians, while the field end was neglected, and the field force discouraged. And they told the newspaper men and others who would help noise the thing abroad. And the governor, like a sensible business man, ousted the head of the Department and drafted Gifford
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Pinchot for the place. So Pinchot had to make good.
lf you have ever seen that long, lean apostle of conversation, and watched his eye flash when he gets warmed to a thing, you will know how he went about his work. He took the job, with one proviso—that he'was to be given a free hand. That was promised him. His first move was to find a proper lieutenant and an assistant after his own heart on whom he could rely. He picked out Major Robert Y. Stuart, and had him appointed Deputy Commissioner of Forestry. Then, with Stu- art in the Forest Commissioner’s ‘chair, Pinchot went into the woods.
His field force received him with interest, but reserved decision. They knew the old game of politics too well. They had seen re- formers before. But they soon found that Gifford Pinchot was no swivel-chair forester. No ranger in his force could out-hike him, out- climb him, out-fish him, knew more of wood- craft, or was better able to care for himself in the wilds. And, so far as he was personally concerned, he dropped the title, Commissioner of Forestry. He called himself the Chief Forester, and he asked the newspapers to do
Planting Trees to Serve Our Children

65

likewise. And chief forester he became, in truth as well as in name. That meant volumes. It meant that he was one of the force, and not some distant and loftly per- sonage sitting on a golden oak throne at Harrisburg.
Once the men became convinced of his sincerity, how they did rally about him. These foresters and rangers were men who worked in the forest—often for less pay than they could have earned elsewhere—because they loved the forest, loved it passionately. All they wanted was a chance to do their best for the forest. And now they had it. They felt the change. It wasn’t necessary for Pinchot to tell them that the purpose of the organization was solely to work for the forests, or to assure them that each man would get a square deal. Indeed, one of Pinchot’s early acts was to change the regu- lations so as to make it practical for men to work up in the service, by permitting them to get their technical training right in the forest itself, doing the technical work under the guidance of the trained foresters and studying during winter months in the forester’s office, instead of having to go to expensive, technical


U.S. Forest Service
BAD LUMBERING IN CALIFORNIA Careless, harmful methods in this forest of sugar pine and white fir, have left the land
in bad condition where Nature will find it all but impossible to reclaim it as a forest

66
schools to get the training. That made it possible for even the poorest laborer to get the education necessary to qualify for pro- motion. Once the men understood these things, how they did work. Forest roads, improvement cuttings, tree plantings, fire trails, were rushed along as they never had been before. And the workers became verit- able hawks in guarding their forests from fire.
One day | was deep in the forest with one of the rangers. A great, strapping fellow he was, rough outside like a shaggy hickory, but with a heart like a child’s, and the courage of a lion.
“You rangers like the new chief pretty well, don’t your” | asked.
My guide, who did not know that | knew Pinchot, stopped short and looked me square in the face. “Like him!” he exclaimed, “Why, we—we love him!”
Words like that do not come from rugged woodsmen except under unusual emotion. The expression itself was its own best guaran- tee of truth.
While Gifford Pinchot was getting ac- quainted with the million and a quarter acres of state forest, and winning the loyal codpera- tion of his fellow forest workers, he was also planning a constructive programme. He believed that the state shouid own outright many million acres of forest land, with 5,000,000 as the minimum. Much of the land he wanted to secure was located on mountain slopes and high plateaus above the headwaters of streams, where timber stands directly affected the stream flow. And most of this land was denuded of timber. Pinchot proposed that the state should buy this land and reforest it. Much of the land could never reforest itself, since no seed trees had been left when the timber was cut. Private owners would never incur the expense of reforesting.
Practically all of this denuded land could be had at the same low price for which the state’s present holdings have been purchased —an average price of $2.27 an acre. Pinchot asked the state for $25,000,000 to buy and improve this land. Only so, he said, would Pennsylvania ever again produce lumber in quantity. And almost more important than the timber was the fact that reforestation would insure abundant water supplies for all time to come. That means water-power as well as water to drink.

Lewis Edwin Theiss
The legislature would not vote the money, There was no pap to be had in the reorganized Forestry Department, and the only jobs available to political heelers were the patrol- ling of rattlesnake-infested forests, the wield- ing of pick and shovel for ten hovis a day, or fighting forest fires at a few cents an hour, And ward heelers are not looking for such jobs,
With characteristic directness, Pinchot took the matter to the people. Day after day, night after night, he traveled about the Keystone State, speaking to audiences big and little, wherever he could get them to- gether. No politician working for personal aggrandizement could have labored harder to win a campaign than Pinchot worked to save the forests of Pennsylvania.
He told his hearers that they were already paying every year in freight charges on lum- ber brought into Pennsylvania as much as the entire sum he asked for—$25,000,000; that they would continue to pay this enor- mous sum year after year, as long as they had to buy their lumber abroad; and that when the Southern pine was gone and all our lumber came from the far West, the yearly freight tax would be enormously heavier. The only hope of ever reducing that tax lay in the re- forestation of Pennsylvania’s forests.
He showed that this was the best business proposition imaginable. During the years that Pennsylvania has been a forest owner, the state forest lands, bought at an average price of $2.27 an acre, have reached a value conservatively estimated at $10.88 an acre. With five million acres of forest land, the state would have what was virtually an edu- cational endowment. The forest land it is proposed to buy is producing wood very, very slowly. If cared for, this land should in ten to fifteen years be producing half a cord of wood an acre each year, and in forty years it should reach full production, with at least a cord of wood to the acre. A very conserva- tive estimate places the annual net income per acre at six dollars, when these lands are in full production. The probabilities are that
it will be much greater. Even at six dollars
an acre, the net income from 5,000,000 acres ;
would be $30,000,000—or more than 100 per cent. interest annually on the sum needed to buy the land.
Under the state law, all income from the state forests goes to educational purposes. During the 1920 school year, the Pennsylvania

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Planting Trees to Serve Our

Children 67




PINE CREEK GORGE, LYCOMING
Showing what destructive lumbering and fires will do to the country. quickly into the streams with the result that damaging floods are caused and the rich surface soil is washed away
state government spent nearly fourteen and a half million dollars on her educational institu- tions. For the 1921 school year her school expenditures were $15,804,282.71. That is a heavy tax on the people of the state, for it is additional to the local school taxes. With 5,000,000 acres of state forest lands in full production, Pennsylvania would enjoy that income of $30,000,000 not for one year alone, but year after year in perpetuity. In effect, to spend $25,000,000 now means to endow the state’s educational institutions forever. And it also means the saving of the $25,000,000 annual freight charges paid on lumber brought from far distant sources. Now it happened, as it had happened cen- turies before in the case of another fighter. for the public good, that the common people heard him gladly. The sound of many voices began to percolate to the legislative halls at Harrisburg. The legislature voted the unprecedented sum of $1,000,000 for forest protection, to be spent in taking care of the forests already owned by the state. And there is little doubt that the state will vote to bond itself for $25,000,000, to carry out the suggested programme for forest improvement.


COUNTY, PENNSYLVANIA
The denuded slopes drain the water

But there were some things that the Chief Forester could do in the matter of reforesta- tion without appealing to the legislature. He enlarged the state’s forest nurseries and created new ones. “Grow seedlings, millions and millions of them,’ he told his foresters, “and see that they are planted. Put them out in the state forests and give them to the farmers to plant in their wood-lots. Every seedling that goes into the earth means a saving to the people of Pennsylvania.” Again a howl went up. The state was spend- ing money to help individuals.
I’ll show you how much there was in that cry. We have some thirty or forty acres of woodlot on our farm. Each spring I secure from the state a quantity of these seedlings. | have to pay for the handling and transpor- tation, and | see that they get into the ground. We are clearing out brush and worthless trees and brambles, year after year, and planting forest trees in their place. It is little good this labor will ever do me. Forty or fifty years from now, if my trees succeed in getting past the gauntlet of blight and weevils and borers, there will be a crop of timber to har- vest. I shall probably not see it cut. But


68 Lewis Edwin Theiss
the timber will be here in Pennsylvania, and land now worth little will have been restored to the only use it was ever fit for. With good management, it ought thereafter to go on producing lumber forever. And my neigh- bors in Pennsylvania or New York or New England who want lumber, won't have to pay $20 a thousand feet freight on it. —
There is no particular pleasure in planting forest seedlings. It is a back-breaking job, and one has to wrestle with rocks and bram- bles and fallen trees, and other obstacles. And when one knows that the work will be of little benefit to one personally, there is small incentive to do it. But somehow, the influ- ence of that energetic Chief Forester sets people to doing things. You just feel that if he is doing so much, you’re a piker if you can’t doa little yourself. And one by one the farmers of Pennsylvania are adopting the plan of making annual plantings of forest seedlings.
When first those seedlings were offered, two or three years ago, the state couldn’t get rid of its supply. But see what a change has taken place. Last fall, when | applied for some white pines for next spring’s planting, | was informed that the 3,000,000 white pine seedlings available for the year’s distribution
A STATE OWNED FOREST
were already allotted. So! had to take other ¥ varieties.
After all, there is a tremendous lot of sense * in the common people. The legislature didn’t know statesmanship when it saw it, but the people of Pennsylvania as a whole did. They knew a Daniel come to judgment when they saw him. And when the opportunity came, they elected the Chief Forester to be the Chief Executive of the state. Major Stuart was promptly moved up to be commissioner of Forestry. Hence intelligent and _far- sighted conduct of the state forests is assured,
Although Gifford Pinchot has now become Governor Pinchot, he will always be Pinchot, the forester. For that is where his heart is— in the forest. With his influence as governor behind the matter of a bond issue, there is little doubt that the state will vote for it and begin the restoration of its forests on a large scale.
We, ourselves must continue to pay the price of our folly in allowing our forests to be de-
stroyed. Our children will pay more heavily than we have paid. But our children’s children, thanks to the statesmanship of
Gifford Pinchot and his fellow fighters for forest reform, will have an easier time of it.
IN PENNSYLVANIA
This timber is protected from fire and is properly handled by a corps of
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THE FARTHEST-AWAY MAN
the a Life in the Mountains of Southern China.
How | Decided While I Life Among the Tai Ya.
The following article is the
hill and do not study medicine.” Apparently he had not yet acquired his sophomore year dreams and felt that the universe was polluted However, | proceeded on my quest, receiving, a few days later, the hospita- ble reception tendered us verdant freshmen by the learned sophomore class enticing us, by running from us into a small corridor in the col-
hey was in College to Leave the United States.
they Why Self Imposed Banishment is in This Case Very Much Worth While
ame,
the = By CHARLES E. PARK uart |
oner | = For a year or more THE WorLp’s Work bas been trying to get the stories of the men who have fare left civilization behind and have gone to the little known lands that seem to us stay-at-homes to be the ired, ‘ farthest away. Our reason for trying to get these stories was simply to let our readers know why come | these men have gone to the lands in which they live, and why they stay. chot, | first of several that have been secured —TueE Epirors. is— -rnor O DEVOTE one’s self to something re is higher than self, this is the answer t and | of the ages to those who would find
large the source of immortal energy and _ with doctors.
enjoyment.”
price The above ideal prompted me to prepare e de- for medical missionary service in the Orient, avily years before my acquaintance with the above lren’s quotation, and | find after nine years experi-
ip of ence that it applies satisfactorily in my life regardless of geographical location.
A country swain, returning from the village brass band practice, | seated myself on the veranda at my old home in Washington County, Pa., and as I finished my cigar, made the decision which placed me in a position to devote myself to a cause greater than self and pursue happiness in a broader sphere of ser- vice while so doing.
This cherished ideal also caused me to dis- pose of my personal effects, which in turn broke up our family home at “Park Place,” leaving me free to enter Wooster University for preparatory education necessary to pursue my medical course.
What fun we had, during that medical course. As | approached the vicinity of the University of Pittsburgh my chosen medical institution, | interrogated an unknown pedes- trian as to the exact location of the medical plant. He replied, first giving the desired information, then asking, “are you entering medical work?” When I stated that I had come for that very purpose, he granted me a bit of voluntary information regarding the medical fraternity, to which he boasted he belonged, saying to me, “Take my advice, turn right straight around, go back down this
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lege building where we, who knew each other so slightly that we chalk-marked our coats to avoid fighting our own classmates, could be seen standing around in the large corridor be- low; and when they had us all ready to make our final charge and get them, they pelted us with paper bags filled with flour until we couldn’t see our way out, then cooled us off by turning the fire hose on us. These two kind- nesses, plus the horrors of the dissecting room, where | was inspired by the skillful operations of Prof. “ Bill” on the cadaver to write the following lines in memory of the victim:
He died that we might know ourselves And ease some sufferer’s pain. “Bill,” cut him up, the reckless “mutt,” And he'll ne’er be whole again.
We had the doleful lectures of our brilliant professors of medicine. After an hour of ora- tory and wild beating of the air, explaining to us the etiology, symptomology, and morphol- ogy of the disease chosen for that day’s dis- course, letting us in on the secrets of examina- tion and diagnosis, until we could feel our heads bulging with practical knowledge and im- agined ourselves regular ‘“‘Sherlock Holmeses”’ in medical circles, they would let us down hard, as they gathered up the precious bun- dle of notes always carried by professors and

Charles
70
the busy men would prepare to make their exit, they would say, “at present we know prac- tically nothing as to the cause of the disease and there are no drugs that give any particular effect on its course, therefore we must simply treat the symptoms as they arise.’”’ What an inspiration! Again, we would meet in the surgical clinic, where we would be given every symptom the patients history had ever re- vealed from A to Z, and after each one had been given a chance to guess what the trouble was, our kind surgeon would turn to the grateful patient saying, “ The Almighty alone knows what ails you. We must do an ex- ploratory operation and find the cause.”” In the very face of all these discouragements | found it possible to keep up enough enthusi- asm in my work and to follow the curriculum laid down in a manner satisfactory enough for the faculty to grant me a diploma. To demonstrate this extensive catalogue of acquired knowledge and, at the same time, endeavoring to promote the cause of Christ some place where the need was great, | offered my service, making application to the Presbyterian Board of Foreign Missions for work in Siam. | had been kept informed reg- ularly of the needs in Siam by a girl teaching in that country whom | hadmetat the University of Wooster. In fact, to cut short a long story of good reading, | had fallen in love with this missionary to such an extent that during the short period of six years that we were engaged, | offered to meet her anywhere on _ this terrestrial ball that she should name, to begin our voyage on life’s matrimonial sea. Being accepted by the Mission Board and assigned to Siam, my fiancée named Canton, China, as a place for our meeting. I will not describe the scene on the steamer Mongolia in Hong- kong harbor, although it was very interesting to passengers who knew that we were to meet there. Suffice it to say that we had not seen each other for three years, during which one had been in medical school and the other teaching in a mission school, separated by half the world’s circumference, a plan not to be suggested by us for others to follow. Our honeymoon was spent in Hongkong, Singa- pore, Bangkok, and Chieng Mai, Siam, and included six weeks of travel on steamers and river boats between these cities.
In Prae, Siam, | practised medicine. I had five natives to assist in selling drugs in the dis- pensary, and help with the operations and car-
E. Park
ing for the patients in the hospital. We had a motorcycle, a piano, and teak wood furni- ture in our home. All the necessary house- hold assistants to do the housework allowed Mrs. Park time to teach in the Girls’ School. This was pleasant enough, but there came a call from Chieng Rung, China, our newest mission station, for ‘some one to fill in in an ‘emergency. This work had only been opened two years. We offered to go and the mission granted our transfer. We sold our luxuries in the form of heavy furniture, piano, and motorcycle. During the last three years we have been living a gypsy life. First we stopped in Chieng Rung for two years dur- ing which we were busy building houses for future missionary residences, teaching the Bible, training assistants, and introducing medicine and surgery, with the help. of one faithful hospital assistant from Chieng Mai, Siam. Since leaving Prae, Siam, we have seen very few white people. This isolation from fellow countrymen affects some much more than others. It is trying for missionary children. Adults can stand it quite well un- less there is continued sickness. During the early part of our term at Chieng Rung | acquired an ugly finger-infection, which re- sisted treatment, affecting my whole system to such a degree that resignation was made to the Board, who accepted it with the under- standing that | remain at my post until some one came from America to relieve me. While treating myself, there being no opportunity for consultation, as the nearest doctor was fif- teen days from me, there developed a work in Yuankiang, China, among the Tai Ya people, which grew so rapidly and encouragingly (a thousand converts in the first few months of the movement) that the Park family decided we would rather risk our lives in this interest- ing mass movement than leave for home. Consequently we canceled our resignation, accepting the responsibility of caring for our own bodily ailments and trusting God for the future.
How far away from home are we in our pres- ent location? Pittsburgh, Pa., is practically
ame
on the other side of the world from us in |
Yuankiang, China, but we are farther south, being on the same degree of latitude as the Hawaiian Islands and the West Indies. The quickest answer we could expect from Pitts- burgh by mail would require three months. Pittsburgh, Pa., to San Francisco, four days;

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——




The Farthest-Away Man


DR. PARK’S FAMILY LEAVING PRAE, SIAM
This picture shows Mrs. Park with her children and a companion starting on the long journey to Chieng Rung Park is seated in the chair that is being carried by the four natives. The house in the background is built of teakwood
San Francisco to Hongkong, thirty days; Hongkong to Bangkok, eleven days; Bangkok to Prae, Siam, two days; Prae to Chieng Rung, twenty-six days; Chieng Rung, China, to Yuankiang, China, our present address, seven- teen days; making a total of ninety days actual travel, using the above mentioned route through necessity, not choice; not making allowance for time lost in steamship and rail- way connections, mule caravans, native car- riers and chair bearers being bargained for and reasoned with. Caravans composed of ponies and men are often very difficult to get into action and much valuable time is lost in argument as to the shortest and best route. They are often more obstreperous than the much abused Ford car. In both cases, it is found beneficial to have a crank if you are not fortunate enough to have a self-starter. Studying the Oriental mind along with their language, one soon discovers that he has in hand a preposterous proposition. Humanly speaking it is a psychological impossibility for the foreigner to fathom the workings of the Oriental mind. _ What repays “The Man Farthest Away” lor having left his home, friends, and coun- try, to live in the other man’s land, is the desire to assist in improving the inhabitants thereof by giving them what is necessary to
Mrs.

rise above their evil spirit worship, live honest Christian lives, ease their physical suffering, treat.their curable diseases, and at the same time educate them to carry on this work for themselves in the future.
In order for “The Man Farthest Away” to enjoy this task, he must enjoy and appreciate the study of human nature. He who dis- likes this most interesting study and its daily application, soon dislikes the environment in which he is located. Censuring the native because of the existing condition of affairs, and not caring to assist in remedying them, he becomes the most miserable of all men. No man can fail to be interested who travels through this tropical belt beautified by its mountains, their rushing streams of water making continuous irrigation for the terraced rice fields, where crops may be grown any month of the year. These same mountains give us a comfortable change of climate during the hot season of the year, a climb of four to five hours being necessary to reach this eleva- tion. The combination of temperatures gives us the fruits and vegetables of both tropical and temperate zones; he who sees this and misses the thronging thousands of interesting human beings, studying not their language, mode of living, ways of travel, government, tribal customs, likes and dislikes, is allowing






































72
himself to become one-sided. He is acquiring a flat wheel and will soon long for “the flesh pots of Egypt” and pine for his native land and its civilization.
To prove the genuineness of the call and to demonstrate the view-point of “The Man Farthest Away,” let us leave the splendor and beauty of the mountain trail decked with its flowering orchids, stately pine trees, and clear, sparkling moun- tain streams, with their banks covered with flowers and ferns; consider, instead, the interesting study of the different types of people we find on the plains, with whom we become acquainted through the Tai lan- guage.
Arriving at Yuan- kiang, our present ad- dress, we found a small, sturdy, brown- skinned, black-eyed, straight - black-haired, flat-nosed people, with manners more pleas- ing than any Tai we have hitherto met and more hospitable than the Southern tribes.
The Tai Ya are a sub-division of the great Tai family, of which there are nu- merous tribes living along the valleys among the vast moun- tain ranges of southern China, French Indo- China, Burma, and Siam. So far, I have met only the Tai (Siamese), Tai Yuan, Tai Kuhn, Tai Li, Tai Nua, Tai Sai, Tai Ya, Tai La, Tai Kah, Tai Wao, and Tai Chung, all of these differing slightly in dialect, dress, customs, intellect, education, and religion; but there runs through the whole family the basis of the pure Tai language, joining the various fragments of this wonderful family, who have been separated for years, into one distinct Tai people.
What difference does it make. if these Tai divisions have merged into various other countries and fallen under their governments,
NATIVE

HOSPITAL ASSISTANTS These men were employed by Dr. Park at the hospital in Prae, Siam
Charles E. Park
if they can only be gathered together and joined to The One Great Kingdom, becoming Knighted Sons of God.
All Tai Ya houses are built of sun-dried brick. They are dark because of the abnor- mally small windows or the lack of them. They are ill smelling because the house serves as home for the farmer and barn for his cattle, pigs, buffalo, ducks, geese, and chickens. The houses are regular smoke-houses also, for there are no chimneys built for the open fire- places, which are used continuously summer and winter, except doors and windows and occasionally a small hole about the size of a hat, left in the roof above the fire- place. I have seen bed-rooms with no other opening than the door-way—dark, dingy holes I would not desire for a stable. Roofs, first and second floors, and walls of the house are made of old mother earth. The roof is built by placing heavy poles across from one wall to the other, then covering these with smaller poles crosswise with the first; these in turn being covered with a layer of bushes and brush, then a layer of rice straw, and lastly a thick layer of clay, which is pounded and tramped during dry and wet weather until it turns water quite decently, acts as a place for the family to sleep during the hot season, a place to dry their crops and meats, and a general visiting place for the villagers, for their homes are so closely packed together one can step from one to the other without any exer- tion.
Having no other place to live than the na- tive mud house, and not desiring to die off in their stuffy homes, we went to the other ex- treme and built ourselves a loosely connected bamboo house of two rooms. The frame, floor,










oo ee
walls, and stairs were made of flimsy bamboo and the roof was made of rice straw. It is just an imitation house, being at present almost eaten up by small insects which appear to be perfectly famished in their attempt to devour it before we can get any place better provided. We have not lacked fresh air. The shack has seen us through a hot season that we couldn’t have stood confined to the small hot quarters of the mud house. Our doors are made conspicuous by their absence. The amount of bamboo would not permit us to plan for windows, but we had enough to allow the openings for them. The walls have shrunken until we scarcely need the win- dows, there being large cracks, allowing us to see Our visitors coming in almost any direc- tion. The heavy winds cause the shack to sWay on its posts until it resembles a bird’s nest, almost always stopping our clock (a timepiece with a pen- dulum). The roof

The Farthest-Away Man

73

hundred or more have been present at each
meeting. Our forces are inadequate to cope with the rapid increase in numbers. They come to us begging us to accompany them to their villages and free them of their demons. The missionary has all he can do to keep up with the growth and has no time to visit and tour the non-Christian villages. The whole field seems like one big family. It develops beyond our fondest hopes. There is noth- ing of a discouraging character worthy of mention. There is no shouting, but the re- ligious influence spreads. Villages from another province have just come to request us to send elders and evangelists to free them of their spirits and teach them of Christianity. In the past these spirits were their masters. At wed- dings, funerals, har- vest feasts, in fact any occasion of impor- tance, these spirits were propitiated and fed with the best the land could offer.


leaks during heavy rains, but many of the mud roofs also leak and we are allowed the privilege of clear instead of muddy water to soak in. However, we are glad to report that rooms for us above the new Chapel are nearing completion.
The Tai in this locality present the most in- teresting and inspiring scene we have ever witnessed. A_ revival which grows with amazing rapidity following the exact course one would expect the Gospel to take among people who have groped in darkness for cen- turies. There are fourteen hundred converts to Christianity in this valley where a few years ago there were none. Until a few Sab-
baths ago religious services were held under the largest trees in the central village, through necessity, not choice, there being no houses that would accommodate the crowds. Three
“TAI YUAN” FATHER AND “TAI LU’’ MOTHER With their child. The man was Dr. Park’s dispensary assistant at Chieng Rung Hospital
Home brew flowed freely and women as well as men vied with each other as to the amount that could be imbibed during one feast, sometimes even going so far as to anoint each other with the liquor. At present when these feasts are given there are no intoxicants used. A modest feast is given instead of the old expensive debauchery and in all customs they are gradually giving way to our Chris- tian methods. They are happy, loyal, in- dustrious, and, although they are illiterate, they are not nearly as ignorant as one would expect. They present wonderful possibili- ties. They respond readily to Gospel teach- ing, which results in a radical change in their habits of living. There is very little quarreling and little or no thieving or murder- ing. The isolation of the Tai Ya in China,








74 Charles
caused by the rugged mountains round about us and many bad rapids in the Red River, has its benefits as well as its inconveniences. During four months of clinic work here, | have not seen or heard of one single case of venereal disease and upon inquiry have been told by reliable citizens that the condition does not exist among the Tai Ya people. There are no saloons or houses of ill fame.
Women’s wearing apparel is modest and handsome, considering their homes and en- vironment, and al- though they work hard they always look neat, wearing their silver buttons, trim- mings, ear rings, finger rings, and bracelets at all times. They use elaborate trimmings in colors, sometimes as many as fifteen colors and shades of silk thread are used in pip- ing and many pat- terns of very fine cross stitching are used on their skirts, jackets, aprons, and head dresses. A picture fails to do justice to this costume because of the inability to repro- duce the color scheme. The Tai Ya woman's
ae le

glory is not in her icicle
ee

E. Park
ago the men wore the Chinese queue, but ever since that time the head has been shaved. Children of four or five years of age dress much the same as their adult brothers and sisters.
The Tai Ya are under the government of Yunnan Province, China, and must assist in supporting it. They are imposed upon in many instances by the petty Chinese officials to whom they must pay taxes. The Tai have village head men, and a higher Tai offi- cial who intercedes for them when there are questions to settle re- garding payment of dues, but they have no representation in the affairs of the country they live in. Bandits of the ex-soldier type, in bands of two or three hundred, con- tinue to prey upon the merchants, farmers, and missionaries wherever there is suffi- cient money and mer- chandise to lure them. Our mail has been held up and parcel post packages taken. Freight sent by pack animals has been tam- pereu with. Yunnan é Province is at present ie 2) _~=sima precarious condi-


hair. Her hair is completely covered by black heavy cloth bound tightly in sucha manner that it holds the hairfirmly. Often the hair is not combed for from three to ten days.
Men wear blue home-spun cotton goods with probably one silver ring, a silver brace- let, and a good substantial hat which acts asa sunshade, as well as an umbrella. They wear trousers of much the same cut as the Chinese. Their jackets are variable, but usually but- toned across the chest in a double breasted effect. Leggings, head dress, and belt may have a small bit of embroidery on them but, as usual, the women lead in dress. Ten years
In front of their mud
A “TAI LU” FAMILY
of the structures in the interior of Yunnan
tion because of the continued change of high officials both lo- cally and in China proper. We realize that we are, as it were, beside a sleeping volcano that may become active any moment. We, of course, are hop- ing that the new régime in Peking will aid us.
The former religion of the Tai Ya was purely spirit worship, which was carried on incessantly. There were the family, house, water, fire, disease, river, tree, and many, many others the names of which | will not attempt to give, spirits which had to be cared for in their various complex ways, just as the spirit medium found necessary, this me-
house, which is typical

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— — ~~ a one Eo i ah AE 8S BAN es FN





dium or spirit doctor being able to converse with the particular spirit offended and obtain first-hand information on any question of importance.
When anything serious happened to per- sons, domestic animals or rice crops, the village medium was called in to determine what had offended the particular spirit in question and what must be done to alleviate the distress. Whatever was decided upon by the medium must be right, for no one can contradict the spirit doctor; there- fore, directions given must be followed out to the minutest detail. If the trouble was soon ended, the evil spirit was supposed to have been appeased by the offering made, but if the condition persisted or increased in severity, serious mistakes must have been made in carrying out directions and the spirit was supposed to have been doubly of- fended. The medium would come again and another attempt would be made to rout the demon or to appeal to its weaker personality and decoy it away by chanting to it, beating a gong to frighten it, anything, in fact, that entered into the mind of the medium as a good thing to try. The most common demand made, for any and all kinds of grievance, was that of animal life; from that of the smallest chicken to the best oxen or water buffalo owned by the afflicted, according to the emergency or demand of the occasion, and in every case where these killings occurred, the medium received one leg of whatever the sacrifice called for, as payment for service rendered. These mediums were called to officiate in almost all cases of sickness, mar- riage, death, and burial. The whole idea of
religion was connected with this abominable and benighted custom of spirit worship. Medical work naturally was taken care of by the spirit medium. Our commonest drugs were unknown and unused, and there were
The Farthest-Away Man 75

JOHN AND WILMA PARK Children of the author of this article. It is the chil- dren of the “farthest away man,” according to Dr. Park, who find the life in distant lands most difficult

2

no locally manufactured articles such as the Chinese carry—tiger teeth, desiccated bear’s gall, et cetera. The only thing used to relieve pain was a crude form of opium bought from the Chinese to dope the sufferer while nature did the rest.
Babies are born more nearly like little wild animals than | have ever seen or heard of anywhere. No doctor, no medicine, no mid- wife; seldom much if any attention from the immediate family; left alone in a dark, dingy, dirty, back room of her mud home, the mother gives birth to her young, cutting the umbilical cord with a sharp splinter of wood prepared for that pur- pose, and tying it with a bit of cotton string, and attending to her- self and the infant, until the fond hus- band at the appropri- ate time appears on the scene, condescend- ingly agreeing to bathe and dress his offspring. Sanitation is a word not spoken of in this department of medi- cing and surgery, as it is practised in the Tai Ya household. However, with all this evidence on the wrong side of the balance, regarding the proper care out-lined by us civilized earth beings for the obstetrical case at home, | venture to say that there are proportionately less cases of pelvic disorder here than in most of our highly civilized countries. This, of course, being attributed more to the robust condition of the female, which is brought about by her entering into the outdoor manual labor in assisting to harvest the rice crop, instead of whiling away her time attending to a spick and span new home.
Infants do well enough during their first year, but they are allowed to nurse as many years as they care to, which causes much trouble in their digestive system, which is aggravated also by the poor quality of food given them in their second and third years. This solid food—uncooked fruit picked green,



76 Charles raw meat with other indigestible delicacies— being handed to it to try, and allowing the child to feed the mosquitoes with its precious blood, lead usually to a course of colic, chills and fever, which either kill the child outright, or leave him victor in the war of the survival of the fittest. No milk is used in this country, although they have the cows, buffaloes, and goats. Until the babies are better fed there must continue a high rate of infant mortality.
A unique custom, observed here is that of an annual May Day festival, or picnic, where the young folks of the community turn out for a gala day under the spreading shade trees at a convenient spot on the bank of the Red River. Smoking tobacco and sweets are for sale. The younger generation of unat- tached femininity parade in groups, adorned in their finest, brightly colored clothes, decor- ated with buttons, beads, finger rings, ear rings, bracelets, necklaces, and chatelaines all made of silver. The awkward young men are also arrayed in their finest garb, but this is comparatively modest. The girls bring food for the occasion. The men bring home- made liquor. The uppermost idea in the minds of those congregated is match-making, which may or may not result in marriage. The popular couples separate themselves from the crowd and, as they journey toward the home of the young woman, they partake of their May Day feast. The visit is continued after their arrival at the home of the girls’ parents and may continue long into the wee small hours of the night, in a way not ap- proved of in respectable society nor by our Tai Ya Christians, although to the non- Christian there is no moral guilt, as there is no law with them against the practice of adultery by unmarried people.
This naturally brings up the question of matrimony. The wife is bought with cold cash in addition to whatever silver ear rings, bracelets, buttons, et cetera, that the young man may wish to lavish on his lady friend. The young men think of the girls of marriage- able age in terms of dollars and cents, one young fellow being heard to say, as he in- spected a photograph of several young ladies snapped by the missionary, “Oh, that one can be bought for thirty dollars. I'll have her.”” The match is quite often made by the parents years before the adolescence of the contracting parties. When the popular age for their marriage has arrived, arrangements are
E. Park
renewed by consulting the spirit medium as to the proper date for the beginning of festivities. On the selected day the husband- to-be gives a chicken, a duck, a goose, a pig, a dog, some rice and some liquor as a peace offering to the spirits. The animals are killed and, after the guests have put in their appearance, a big outdoor feast is given. When evening comes they all repair to the home of the groom where two elderly men and two elderly women with two girls are com- missioned to go and invite the bride to the wedding. Acting in the capacity of escorts they remain at the bride’s home until her six attendants, chosen in like manner, are ready to escort her to her wedding. Arriving at the home of the groom, a late indulgence of food and “fire water,” followed by merrymaking among the intoxicated guests, solemnizes the wedding and the couple are considered mar- ried. At earliest cock crow of the morning, the bride, in order to obey the orthodox rule of etiquette, must scamper back to her home, where she remains until the next night, when her husband makes another feast in her honor. This second feast is given on a more moderate scale, only one pig being killed, but a great deal of liquor goes with it. This second feast is given at the home of the bride’s parents; she accompanies her husband to his home, but leaves again the next morning as before. The third day the husband entertains at the home of the bride’s parents, taking a duck, a chicken, and a quart of whisky for the wife and parents. Again the wife is escorted home, with the husband remaining the one night. This feasting and visiting is continued at frequent intervals, numerous times during the first year or until the wife becomes a mother, giving birth to her child at the husband’s home, after which she makes her home with him. Should the child be born at the home of the bride’s parents, it is under- stood to be illegitimate and the husband need not recognize her as his wife. This, we are sorry to relate, happens quite often because the customs of the land do not restrict adul- tery among newly married and single people, free love being practised without penalty until children are born to married people. The husband is desirous of having male children to inherit his rice field and attend his family spirit after death.
Three gun shots announce a death. The beating of a gong summons friends to come







a ETN RUT A Lies
The Farthest-Away Man 77




A GROUP OF “TAI YA” This gathering is of converted natives whose meeting place was under the large fig tree shown in the picture
and remain with the family the first night. At daybreak a duck and a chicken are killed and cooked with the rice, which is eaten by the assembled friends, with the exception of one dishful that is offered to the spirits. The women of the village are summoned to pre- pare rice ready for cooking, this invitation being made by a relative distinguished as a mourner by binding a white cloth about his head, white being used in place of black for mourning. This accomplished, a pig is killed, then a beef, later a buffalo, the number being limited only by the wealth or poverty in the afflicted family. Children of the de- ceased, as well as women relatives, wear white jackets the day of the funeral. A small piece of white cotton is given each guest as a sou- venir of the occasion. The coffin is made after the fashion used by the Chinese. The corpse is followed by the band of musicians already mentioned and is accompanied by women friends and relatives, who express their sorrow by the continuous wailing and weeping, while men friends not assisting in the capacity of pallbearers carry festoons of gaily colored paper. The spirit medium figures prominently in all the proceedings and is depended upon to call back the family spirit to the home, follow- ing the burial of any member of the family
group. This is accomplished by the upturning of one of the stools used as chairs by the family and placing in it the head of a recently killed dog, a bow] of water, and a bowl of rice. This offering is carried out in front of the home. While the medium endeavors to call back the spirit to care for the others in the family, the home must be kept absolutely quiet, or the weird vocal tones produced, the drum beaten and the spirit entreated to return, may all be in vain. Anything which may happen later is naturally blamed on some member of the family failing to keep absolutely quiet at the psychological moment.
The study of these interesting people, whom | have introduced to you only slightly, by poorly outlining a glimpse of their customs, together with the opportunity for service in the Lord’s work, carrving out His last com- mand to “Go ye therefore, and teach all nations,’ repays “ The Man Farthest Away”’ for all his isolation, inconveniences, and hard- ships of being away from friends and loved ones.
I am a missionary, heart and soul. God had only one Son and He was a missionary and a physician. A poor, poor imitation of Him | am or wish to be. In His service | hope to live, in it | wish to die.


AUGUSTUS THOMAS—FROM “MIZZOURA”™
By W. A. DAVENPORT
OU will find Augustus Thomas sitting at a table-desk in an old- fashioned office in West Forty-fifth Street, New York, applying Mis- souri politics to the American
theatre. It is quite conceivable that the man who knows nothing of Mr. Thomas and his methods might, after one look at the outer office, scurry down the carpeted stairs (there is no elevator) to the street, convinced that whoever told him that so important a person as the Executive Chairman of the Producing Managers’ Association held forth in such un- impressive headquarters was a gusher of misinformation.
For here works the man to whom the theatre looks for rescue from the threatening censor, the rapacious producer, the unworthy actor, the snide play, and all the other nasty little germs that have got together to sicken the stage and its supporter, the long-submissive public. No, it doesn’t seem quite as it should be. You are not to be blamed if, basing your sense of the fitness of things upon the tales you have heard about the pomp and circum- stance of the American theatre, you looked for magnificence.
Instead, you enter a small outer office where you are met by a swiftly moving young wo- man who turns you over to a secretary and you are guided into the General Grant period room where Mr. Thomas expends the balm of his remarkable personality upon outraged artists and managers alike.
In such congenial atmosphere Mr. Thomas rules. These are the offices of the Producing Managers’ Association. In these rooms the future of the American stage will be molded if the producing managers have their way about it.
Mr. Thomas is the employee of the Pro- ducing Managers’ Association. He was chosen to be Executive Chairman of that organization in much the same way (and for very similar reasons) that Will H. Hays was taken by the movie producers and Kenesaw
Mountain Landis was drafted to head organ- ized professional baseball. Repeatedly he has been called the Will Hays of the theatre and the Judge Landis of the stage. There are certain analogies warranting these likenings but the truth is that the jobs of Mr. Hays and Judge Landis are more like each other than Mr. Thomas’s is like either.
But the immediate necessity is a picture of Augustus Thomas, in so far as words may draw a picture, and an outline history of him that you may see or fail to see his fitness for his job. He is large in stat- ure and of manner. Talk to him fifteen minutes and you have a feeling of having been entrusted by him with some great re- sponsibility. His face proclaims shrewd in- telligence. There is great humor in his blue, quizzical eyes, and only the orator is possessed of Mr. Thomas’s flexible mouth. There is not the squareness to his chin nor hook to his nose that the physiognomists insist upon allot- ting to the aggressive leader of men, but it would be foolish to intimate that Mr. Thomas
‘is not a leader.
He is almost 64 years old. He was born in St. Louis, Missouri, and still retains the stamp of it. Pronounce the name Missouri slowly. Dwell long upon and put feeling into the second syllable. Make it Mizzooooooouuuri. You have no idea how much that pronuncia- tion of the name of his native state suggests the personality of Augustus Thomas. And look there on his desk—that table-desk in the General Grant period office!
A corn-cob pipe!
There are those who would discount his ability as a playwright by saying that Augus- tus Thomas has orated himself to his current loftiness. They will tell you that many of his successful plays would never have been sold had he not sold himself first. In other words they say that Augustus Thomas usually sounds better than his plays. Pure envy and malice, of course. Stock companies are still staving off financial collapse with The Earl of
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Augustus Thomas—from ‘“ Mizzoura”’ 79
Pawtucket, The Witch- ing Hour, Mrs. Lef- fingwell’s Boots, The Embassy Ball, Arizona, and As a Man Thinks. It is difficult to evolve good reasons for denying Mr. Thomas the right to be called the foremost writer of American plays. The accent should be, of course, on American.
Mr. Thomas cannot be said to have started life with a purpose. He set out with purposes. Long before he was sixteen years old, at which age he abandoned school- rooms as a regular habit, he had achieved forensic renown. On Friday after- noons there were dec- Jamation exercises in the public schools of St. Louis and the first prize went inevitably to this never-doubting Thomas.
It is possible that there never was a youth who had so many careers planned for him by his enthusiastic admirers. A hundred influences pulled him this way and that. Finally he disap- pointed them all by turn- ing playwright. But in the crosswise pullings he turned his hand and head to many things and his manifold endeavors are hereupon listed that you may know of the wealth of experience that Mr. Thomas fetches with him to his job as Executive Chairman of the Producing Managers’ Association.
He began as a reporter for a St. Louis news- paper making an auspicious début by inter- viewing the prize winning Leghorn hen at the county fair. They say that the hen was made to say things worthy in every respect of the Augustus Thomas of later years. Suddenly he developed ability as a cartoonist and al- though he gave no promise of greatness as an artist, he illustrated his own stuff and did it aptly.
He was a debater, of course, and his oratori-

Photo. by Brown Bros.
AUGUSTUS THOMAS
As he is to-day. This photograph was taken in his office at the Producing Manager’s Association
cal fame grew until Missouri politicians fell to counting the days when Augustus Thomas would be of voting age and enter politics, taking the stump for Democratic candidates. By way of preparing for politics he took up the study of law in the office of John Colby, a St. Louis lawyer, later to be Mr. Thomas’s father-in-law.
But the law lost him. He t¥rned to rail- roading and for six years it seemed that Augustus Thomas had found his groove. Eugene Victor Debs’s famous association, The Knights of Labor, was the A. F. of L. of those days and Mr. Thomas joined the union. He did more than that; he let no meeting of organized labor pass without taking active part therein. It took him two or three months to inform the comrades that they had



80 W. A. Davenport
in their midst an orator beside whom the silveriest tongue that Missouri had sent to Congress was but a pewter adenoid. Politicians who sought to train the lad in the ways of office holding had obtained for him a place as page in the forty-first Congress. Thus young Thomas had heard the worst of them and had learned how not to orate. But to get back to the new voice of labor, it is re- corded that such a sensation was Mr. Thomas in the halls where Missouri Cen- tral Local No. 9, K. of L. was wont to fore- gather, that erstwhile puny assemblages be- came raucous crowds. It is unofficially told that Mr. Thomas once headed a delegation of workers that had been commissioned by Lo- cal No. 9 to lay be- fore the boss certain grievances that irked the railroaders. Mr. Thomas was the first speaker. He was to have been answered by the boss himself

trator, railroad brakeman, law student, labor leader, and always anorator. Later on he did
a turn at acting in one or two of his own plays but only in a pinch. They say that much worse actors have been, are being, and will be seen.
Mr. Thomas has written more than 100
plays.
His first success of any degree was Editha’s Burglar, a dramatization of Frances Hodgson Burnett’s novel. It was produced in 1889 and then Mr. Thomas came to New York. And thus encouraged he turned out with rather remarkable rapidity Col. Carter of Cartersville, Soldiers of Fortune, Alabama, Mizzoura, Arizona, Colorado, Man of the World, Afterthoughts, the Meddler, the Man Upstairs, Oliver Goldsmith, the Har- vest Moon, Asa Man Thinks, Indian Sum- mer, On The Quiet, A Proper Impropriety, That Overcoat, The
who was no orator. Capitol, New Blood, Mr. Thomas launched MR. THOMAS IN NOVEMBER, 1900 The Hoosier Doctor, forth. He told in de- The Earl of Paw-
tail of the desires of his fellows. He continued to glorify labor asa whole. Warming up to his task he delivered an oration that took in the magnificence of the Democratic Party and the future of America. The boss, as has been said, was no orator; but he was a Democrat. The meeting concluded with a general hand- wringing and a complete victory for the work- ers. A mystified but satisfied brakeman re- ported back to the executive committee of Local No. 0:
“| dunno what he said, but we won.”’
But railroading did not hold him. He be- came the editor and proprietor of a newspaper that died aborning—the Kansas City Mirror. He ran for the Missouri legislature and didn’t win. He began writing plays.
So here you behold Augustus Thomas start- ing out on the career that was to make him famous, having been in turn journalist, illus-
tucket, The Other Girl, Mrs. Leffingwell’s Boots, The Education of Mr. Pipp, Jim DeLancey, The Embassy Ball, The Witching Hour, Rio Grande, Kentuck, and The Cop- perhead.
Mr. Thomas came to New York to write plays; but the early Missouri training was not to be shaken off so easily. He continued to dip rather than plunge into politics.
He has sat in the deliberations of the Na- tional Democratic Committee. He has stumped the country for every Democratic candidate for the Presidency since and in- cluding Mr. Bryan. He became a personal friend of Woodrow Wilson and might have been our Minister to Belgium had he agreed to Mr. Wilson’s plan to make the appoint- ment. But he has never held political office.
Thus you get something of a picture of the man who is Executive Chairman of the Pro-
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ducing Managers’ Association. Before set- ting down a word of this, the writer went about asking men and women of the theatre just what they thought of Augustus Thomas; whether they thought the managers had chosen wisely; whether they believed that Mr. Thomas was likely to help the theatre. It seemed to be the only fair thing to do. “‘He knows the

Augustus Thomas—from ‘“ Mizzoura” 81


mine is the psychology of the player. Further- more | know this: that the theatre belongs first to the public and that liens are held succes- sively by the dramatist, the artist, and the pro- ducer. | am not here to combat the Actors’ Equity Association. I would not turn to the
right nor the left to injure that organization.
“T am in complete sympathy, with organ- izations of workers

theatre,” was their boiled-down reply. “He is fair; he is on the level; he is acces- sible and he’ll listen no matter how long you talk. He hasn’t been called upon yet to arbitrate anything of importance but we think he’ll get away with it neatly when the time comes.”’
Mr. Thomas _ took over his duties as head of the Preducing Managers’ Association last July. He has not yet been put to severe test. But the longer you talk to him the more it grows upon you that it is wholly possible that he will never be thus tried out. The chances are, if the writer’s diagnosis of this character is accurate, that Mr. Thomas will be found a few steps ahead of a crisis. It is possible that he may win the title of the Great Anticipator. I am making a real effort to take a judicial viewpoint; to avoid too ready enthusiasms. But you do leave Mr. Thomes believing that he is shrewd enough and far- sighted enough to reduce preventable crises to a minimum.
“You see,” he said before the discussion turned to matters of censorship and the like, “| speak the language of the theatre. | am of the theatre. 1 have done everything in the theatre except work the lights. | have worked as an usher from the orchestra to the balconies. I have sold and taken tickets. | have shifted scenery. I have written plays,

produced plays, directed plays, and even acted in plays. “T know the traditions of the theatre and

MR. THOMAS IN 1889 This picture was taken at the time of his arrival in New York
that have come into being because of un- fair conditions and on- erous circumstances that individual or un- organized protest can- not change. The artist who is tightened up that he might hold his own must necessarily fall short of the stand- ards of the artist. Give that artist assurances of his personal secur- ity and he is relieved of the blight that de- stroys his power. It is to the public that the actor must look for recognition of his artistry.
“ Therefore it is for me to convince the Actors’ Equity Associ- ation and the Produc- ing Managers’ Association that neither is privileged to fight nor fear the other. When 1 took this office | was faced by the then troublesome question of whether the Ac- tors’ Equity Association was to impose the closed shop principle to the stage. I re- ceived from Mr. Frank Gillmore, Executive Secretary of the Actors’ Equity, a letter ex- pressing the willingness of the Equity to re- submit the policy of the Equity Shop to a vote of the members if the managers would agree to accept the outcome of such a ref- erendum.
“1 can do no better than tell you just what 1 said in my reply to Mr. Gillmore. The purpose of his letter was the wish to avoid a conflict that seems possible when the con- tract between the Equity and the managers terminates in June, 1924. You must under- stand that the Equity shop means the Closed Shop or a condition, as Mr. Gillmore put it,

82 W. A. Davenport
‘in which the Equity members will not play with non-members.’
“Mr. Gillmore went on to say, ‘Surely that is their (the Equity’s) right or the right of any one to make as a condition of acceptance of engagement that every member of the com- pany shall belong to their association.’
“To this | replied that | agreed with him that it was an indi- vidual right but dif- fered from him in that as far as the public is concerned it becomes a questionable right whenever you en- deavor to make such a right general and concerted by a con- spiracy however be- nevolent. I told Mr. Gillmore that | did not want to question the generosity of his offer to submit the matter of a closed shop to his member- ship so far in advance of the termination of the agreement, but that | had something simpler to offer.

and industry of the theatre belongs by right to the actors.’ I replied that there was not the slightest reason for questioning such a statement but that the actors should remem- ber that that actor is possessed of a distorted vision who thinks that all of the art or in- dustry of the theatre belongs to him. And I repeated to him what | have said to you; that the theatre doesn’t belong to the actor nor to the manager nor to the dramatist but that it is and must continue to be a great public insti- tution. “Personally I do not believe that we are ready for a time when every man who gets any money as a wage shall be allied in a class against everybody who pays money as a wage.” Nothing else that could be set down here could add to or make more explicit Mr. Thomas’s attitude toward the closed

“| suggested that inasmuch as the great majority of the mem- bers of the Equity were more or less constantly on the move and, therefore, difficult to poll, that we hold a referendum on the subject in the Producing Managers’ Association with its membership of 53 as against the Equity’s 3,755 and among the Dramatists’ Society which numbers but few more than the managers. These two bodies, | reminded him, were not nearly so itinerant as the actors and therefore much easier of access. If these two associations voted against the closed shop, as they would, of course, just as the Equity would vote for it, we would submit the result of this balloting to the actors as the actors desired to submit their sure thing vote to the managers.
“That was putting the boot on the other foot. At any rate it was as fair as Mr. Gillmore’s suggestion inasmuch as it entailed the.same process. Mr. Gillmore’s letter went on to say ‘no one will deny that part of the art
A BUST OF MR. THOMAS By Robert Aitken, N. A.
shop for the stage. Therefore we move on to the incidental phases of his job.
“| haven’t the arbitrary powers of Will Hays in the movies nor of Judge Landis in baseball,”” said he. “Will Hays can banish a Fatty Arbuckle and the Judge can rule out an unruly athlete. There is nothing like that among the possibilities of my job.”’
“Do you purpose forestalling state censor- ship by doing a bit of censoring yourself?” he was asked.
“No. | think I shall confine myself to being a moral example instead of a censor. I was interested in the volunteer censorship movement of last spring because official censorship seemed imminent. Not, mind you, that | have sympathy with any sort of censorship, but | wasof the opinion that volun- teer censorship was the lesser of the two evils. As a matter of fact this office has nothing whatever to do with censorship although I suppose if the morality of any production of


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Rao eT >

Augustus Thomas—from ‘“‘ Mizzoura”’ 83
any of the members of the Producing Man- agers’ Association were called into question | should be consulted.
“As a matter of fact, offenses in the theatre are very rare. In thirty years the number of times the police have been asked to interfere in the theatre could be counted upon the fingers of one hand.
“There has been quite a lot of misconcep- tion connected with this job of mine. My official position does not constitute me a general clearing house for all theatrical troub- les. | am concerned only with the things that come before the association for decision.”
“Have you stopped writing plays?”
“No,” he replied. “No one ever does. It is an incurable disease. I have written a new one in collaboration with John Tainter Foote, and George Cohan is going to produce it one of these days.”
“Will you ever act again?”’
“Only if there is a three-alarm call. Other- wise | shall behave myself. You know, | act only in emergencies. It was back in 1890 or thereabout that | made my début as an emergency actor. Maurice Barrymore, who was playing the lead in my A Man of the World, was taken sick. I hopped in. | was not a complete loss as an understudy either, although | cannot recall any great contro- versy concerning the relative abilities of Mr. Barrymore and myself. 1 did a similar job of pinch-acting in another of my own plays, Nemesis. Emmett Corrigan was playing the lead. He became ill just before the curtain went up. There was nothing for me to do but play the part. Fortunately Mr. Corrigan’s recovery was rapid.”
“Would it fall upon you to adjust the dif- ferences between a manager and a critic?”’ Mr. Thomas’s interviewer asked. “For ex- ample, how about those cases where man- agers, enraged by harsh criticism, have barred those critics from their theatres’”’
“Yes, | presume such a case would come before me for adjustment. lI’d be just as
pleased, however, if the condition did not.
come about. At any rate, those things are incidental. | was instrumental in assisting in the making of the present agreement be- tween the managers and the actors. It is in the interest of those relations that | am here.”
Mr. Thomas’s contract stipulates that he shall continue as Executive Chairman of the
Producing Managers’ Association for three years. It is entirely likely that he will not be subjected to a real test until the current agreement between the Equity and the man- agers expires. He says that he is more than willing to defer comment upon that situation. He purposes leveling existing obstacles to a wholly agreeable continuation of the peace that exists.
He goes about this as he would construct a play—logically and with a view to a satis- factory conclusion. Another reason why he has not been forced to meet a crisis is that he took office about the time when both man- agers and actors were recovering from an almost unprecedented slump in the theatrical business. The theatre seems to be recovering from a financial demoralization. Men seldom disagree when their affairs are on the up grade.
“My early political education out in Mis- souri,” said Mr. Thomas, “taught me that there is but one way to win confidence that lasts. Out there we had orators. We es- chewed the weasel word and cherished the outspoken fact. We mounted the stump and told the constituency just where we stood and what we wanted to do. Then, if the constit- uency supplied the votes, we went ahead and did it. There was very little if any closet conniving out in Missouri in those days.”
And thus we return to our opening state- ment that Augustus Thomas is applying Missouri politics to the American theatre.
“There are certain unchallengeable stand- ards to which the theatre must cleave or else dissolve,” he said. ‘We have these standards before us. Very well, it is up to the managers and the actors to meet openly and unarmed on these standards and come to an agreement. No actor or group of actors is indispensable. The theatre can lose any producing manager or group of producing managers and survive. Every play that has been written may be cast into the discard without killing the theatre.
“But let selfishness blind the actor and greed mislead the manager and the real owner of the theatre, the public, will see to it that both actor and manager are wiped out and new actors and new managers substituted. There is nothing artistic about common sense, but the artistic is never injured by fusion with common sense. Yes, they incorporated a large consignment of common sense in Mis- souri politics.”


TRUE FARMER
COOPERATION
The California Plan of Codperative Marketing. How It Differs from the
Rochdale Plan. “Locality” vs. “Commodity” .
By AARON
HE factory system is recognized as the key to all forms of productive in- dustries to-day all over the world— except in agriculture. Now, where there is the factory system or group production there is group capital. Where there is group capital there must be a corpor- ation formed. That is why every state in the Union established laws whereby group marketing and production could be carried on, giving us the artificial thing called a cor- poration for carrying on that activity. But they forgot the farmer. The farmer’s is the only part of modern industry (besides art) in which you have individual production. The ideal of every man is a country dotted with farm units in which one man operates the farm and produces through hisown labor or through the assistance of hired men. And they think that because the farmer produces individ- ually, marketing is an individual problem.
But marketing is not individual at all. It is a group problem. You cannot market without a distineteonsideration of what all the other producers are doing at the same time. You cannot market without knowing what the market absorption is, or what the market de- mand is, what the money markets are, and the other elements of trade. Production can be done individually. Marketing can be done sanely only on a collective basis, and through organized effort. The codperative structure represents that organized effort. The farmer must have some ‘way in which he can take the crops from individual pro- duction through the group problem such as financing and marketing. This way is coéperation, with experts handling these technical group problems.
There are two types of codperative organiza- tions to-day in the world that are worth real at- tention. One is the so-called coéperative mar- keting movement, which is a producers’ move- ment. The other is a codperative buying move- ment, which is a consumers’ movement.
Organization and Financing SAPIRO
The consumers’ movement developed first to a high point in England, and is known there as the Rochdale movement. The Rochdale movement in its ultimate development is very large. They have more than 1,200 stores in England. The basic factor there is that Eng- land is not a producer of raw material. Their problem is a manufacturing and consuming problem. They develop from the consumer’s standpoint. Stores were a necessity. They needed capital. Each person was a purchaser. They had to have patronage, dividends. It was a normal and right development for a consumers’ movement. Then it began to go into manufacturing. This society has devel- oped; and instead of buying, it tries to manu- facture. To-day it is the largest employer of labor in England. There are 42,000 people employed in its mills and factories. They have established steamship lines, coal mines, and dairy farms. But that is codperation de- veloped from a consumer’s standpoint. That is why you have to have capital to start with and give the so-called patronage divi- dend to the people who buy from you.
We are an English-speaking nation and few of us understand Danish. Therefore, it is only of late years that the Scandinavian groups have made known their contributions. When the American farmers heard of codpera- tion in England, they started to organize on those lines. They built codperative elevators and started codperative fertilizer buying. They thought that the right method of codper- ation was to imitate the movement of the con- sumers’ codperatives. Take the Rochdale system, a consumers’ system; apply it to farms and marketing problems, and what is the result?
In the whole Mississippi Valley there are 4,000 alleged codperative grain elevators. The elevator is organized with capital stock. It takes in as members farmers primarily and limits the dividends to 8 per cent. Then it proceeds to buy grain from the different


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True Farmer Coéperation 85






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COOPERATIVE MARKETING
ASSOCIATIONS IN THE
UNITED STATES
The stars show the location of codperatives that are members of the National Council of Farmers’ Codperative Marketing Associations
growers, either members or non-members. It might buy grain from Mr. No. 1, at $1.40 a bushel. It might buy the next man’s grain at $1.60, and the next one at $1.80. The elevator is not in business to lose money; it must make something out of its purchases. And the manager says, “No. 1 must come in and sell his wheat to me.” As manager of the association, he doesn’t tell him he thinks it is not wise for him to sell his wheat—be- cause he must make money for the codpera- tive elevator. He lets him sell at $1.40; so that he can make a profit and not a loss. When the second man comes in and wants to sell his wheat at $1.60, the manager doesn’t advise him either. Yet he is the paid servant of both of them. When the next man comes in, he will buy at $1.80 from him, expecting to make a profit. He is speculating on all three. He is doing the same as any specula- tor on the Chicago Board of Trade, except that he is owned by the farmers, and the spec- ulators in the Chicago Board of Trade are owned by the city people.
At the end of the year what happens? He will say, “I have made a lot of profit. Be-
cause No. 1 didn’t guess right, and No. 2 didn’t guess right, | have won something. There is a patronage dividend of 5 cents a bushel as No. 1. gets $1.45 for his year’s ex- perierce; No. 2 gets $1.65 for his year’s ex- perience, and No. 3 gets $1.85. Two made money on one; one made money on two; and the association, which was supposed to be
codperative, has made money on _ the farmers instead of making money for the farmers.”
That is the whole course of procedure of these so-called Rochdale stores and elevators throughout the Mississippi Valley. Each one stands as a separate unit and sells against the other elevator. As soon as they think the market is going to be high, they dump their wheat in and the market is swamped. As soon as they think the market is going down, they hold off until the banker puts pressure on
them. It is not good merchandising; it is not codperation. They are building the system
from the wrong standpoint. That is why every time a crisis appears these men hold in- dignation meetings, urging everybody to punish the firms who dare to break.



86
The trouble is not with these men. They started to follow a consumer model in- stead of a model that would be developed nat- urally in a country that produced. That is fundamental. | have devoted some time to it because | want to show that it has been one of the most egregious blunders committed in agri- cultural America. The worst of it is that the men who were supposed to lead—the univer- sity men as well—did not detect the difference. They are simply local speculators with a profit-sharing plan.
In California, on the other hand, the co- operatives have stabilized industries. That is why in California, if the producers do have a hard year, the Non-partisan League cannot make them listen to its tenets.
The California farmers have found a way of salvation for themselves even in a bad year. Go elsewhere in the United States and you will find the League or some similar body thriving, because it feeds on discontent. It offers to the farmer a political remedy. It has been proved in California that the farm- ers can solve their own problems by purely economic means. They need not depend on politics or radicals; they just retain a solid businesslike arrangement.
This is almost universal in California. Practically all the dominant industries are organized, except where it is impossible to or- ganize them because of Japanese control. Some industries, unfortunately, are under an adverse element which will not mix. The Japanese believe in a feudal system. It is surprising to know that in the San Joaquin delta, where they raise an enormous quantity of potatoes, sometimes half of the potatoes raised are controlled by one man, a Japanese. So we cannot organize potatoes very well except on a small white scale. But wherever the white man is, organization has been ef- fected. And where organization has been effected in California, it has been effected on a huge scale. We have 97 per cent. of all the berry growers in central California in one association; 86 per cent. of the almond growers in one association; 92 per cent. of the raisin growers; 83 per cent. of the apricot growers; 80 per cent. of the prune growers; over 75 per cent. of the walnut growers; over 80 per cent. of the peach growers; 75 per cent. of the lima bean growers; over 50 per cent. of the pear growers; about 50 per cent. of the grape growers, and so on.
Aaron Sapiro
The Califcrnia coéperatives are now handling products in excess of $250,000,000 a year.
We have even organized the egg industry— the most difficult industry of all to organize. Eggs come not only from America—(the biggest producing state, of course, is Missouri —less than 5 per cent. of the eggs in the coun- try are raised in California)—they come from China and from Australia, eggs of all kinds. We get Chinese eggs, buried in clay for six months so as to keep from spring to fall, then sold in the California market mixed up with the middle-western storage eggs. If you want to get eggs with a particularly Chinese flavor, get those eggs that have been buried for six months!
We have to compete with eggs from all over the world. Yet we have a poultry pro- ducers’ association, that handled last year twenty million dozen eggs. Every storage egg is candled and graded and the proceeds pooled.
They have, under contract, 2,300,000 hens— the hens are not under contract to lay; but the owners are under contract to deliver. This year the association will handle over 23,000,000 dozen eggs.
So you can organize, no matter how diffi- cult it seems at the start. The California idea has been adopted by numerous states. It has been adopted bodily by Canada. The Canadians are now studying their wheat in- dustry, 300,000,000 bushels, for a five-year plan. They are checking up the plan of the Washington Wheat Growers’ Association. The cotton men are organized in twelve states on that basis. The tobacco men of Virginia and the Carolinas, Kentucky and all other states have already organized on the Cali- fornia plan.
The movement is distinctly Californian— but from California it has spread and become nationalized.
The financing plan of the Burley Tobacco Growers, experts say, is the most sound and economic plan ever evolved for growers of tobacco. There are all kinds of industries; there are all kinds of problems ineach. These things are so different, that one wonders if there are any really fundamental principles that you can apply to tobacco, as well as to strawberries and beans. There are.
The important point in practically every codperative association in California lies in the fact that it is based on the commodity idea








True Farmer Coéperation 87

PEAR TREES IN CALIFORNIA The California plan of coéperation associates the producers of a given commodity in one organization. operative plans associate the producers of a commodity in one community or district, thus competing with other producers of the same commodity outside the organized area
instead of the locality idea. That means that it was built up with regard to the commodity that is to be sold instead of the locality where it is raised. On the other hand, all the Middle Western codperatives are built around one place.
No one cares where wheat is produced. You don’t buy geography; you buy the prod- uct. If you raise something, you think of the locality. If you buy something, you think of the commodity. That is the first and dominant point in the California idea.
We have had some failures. We had to go through a lot of experiments to find that out. The orange growers organized locally, fight- ing each other, each trying to get into the same market. They could not understand their lack of progress. They suddenly real- ized that they were organized from the wrong viewpoint. They had organized from the viewpoint of production instead of marketing. They started in to reconstruct and to-day our orange growers’ association is composed of 228 locals, federated into twenty districts, with
Other co-
the districts federated into one central ex- change.
Of course, all products have different prob- lems. The problem of perishable products is routing. The problem of the non-perishable products is storage and financing, so that you can have sane and orderly marketing through- out the year. The routing of the California Fruit Growers’ Association is done through one office that routes practically every car of oranges shipped codperatively from the West.
It took many years to learn that. We were so stupid that our other associations didn’t even learn from the experiences of the orange growers. The prune growers had to bump themselves before they recognized that. The prune growers were organized locally. At Santa Clara when they started the organiza- tion the buyers came and said: “ You shouldn’t goin withthe Napamen. They want you be- cause everybody knows that the Santa Clara prunes are the most desirable. The Napa district wants to come in with Santa Clara because of its prestige.”
Then they went to the Napa growers and


88
Aaron
said: “ You don’t want to go in with the Santa Clara men, because you have larger prunes.” They convinced them that Santa Clara wanted to get the benefit of the larger sizes.
CAUSE AND EFFECT
HEY organized the two separately—and
they broke each one separately. The growers in central California have still amonu- ment of over a half million dollars in a big pack- ing plant—they lost it in one year because they organized locally. You pass it every time you go from San Francisco to the present head- quarters of the prune industry. It was the best thing that ever happened to the growers for it prodded them into the commodity plan. They analyzed their failure and saw that the fault was that they were organized from a locality standpoint instead of from the standpoint of the commodity.
In California we had organization after organization breaking on the locality plan and then suddenly discovering the commodity plan. But we never realized it until 1920. That was the first time anybody ever really articulated the difference between the Cali- fornia plan and the other plans. That opened oureyes. We said: ‘‘Howeasy. That is the difference—organize from a commodity stand- point and not from a locality standpoint.”
The commodity idea must be handled within practical limits. But the commodity idea is the first thing to bear in mind when you are thinking of successful codperative associations.
Another universal rule is that a codperative commodity association must be composed of farmers only. Not a single outsider should be allowed to join. A man may be a banker and a farmer, but he must qualify as a farmer. He should not be allowed to join just as a banker. The same rule applies to the mer- chant. He must actually have something to sell through that association. There must be a community of interest between him and every other fellow in that association.
Furthermore, the association must be or- ganized for business purposes only. That is fundamental. There must be no politics in it—nothing but straight business from the ground up. We don’t permit discussions on subjects that have nothing to do with our commercial problem. That is sometimes a very hard thing for the so-called professional farm leaders to swallow. The only kind of an

Sapiro
association they are used to is a farmers’ de- bating society. The codperative associations are composed wholly of business interests and are organized exactly like a bank.
The first thing we think of when we organ- ize an association is ““How permanent can we make it?’’ We don’t organize a so-called “fly-by-night”’ interest on a one-year basis in California. After an organization has been going for years, like the Orange Growers’ As- sociation, it can make a contract for one year. Its trade is established, the outsider is weak. It can easily go on with a withdrawal privi- lege. But when it is first organized it must organize for a long period, anywhere from five to fifteen years. The new raisin contracts are for fifteen years; the peach contract is eight years; the prune contract is seven years. In Denmark they sign for as long a period as fifteen years. The average contract is a five- yearone. That gives the association a chance for mobilization on a permanent basis; it gives. the association a chance to work out a merchandising policy; it gives the associa- tion a chance to make trade connections and to develop personnel.
Take the question of advertising. No one supposes that advertising for one year gives us any real result. What would have hap- pened if the prune growers.had organized on a one-year basis? Whither would they have reached? To get the real results of advertis- ing there must be a cumulative effect. There must be a long-term contract for real merchan- dising.
It is possible to merchandise on long con- tracts. Let us take prunes, for example. They have raised the consumption of prunes in the United States in a period of three years from 47,000,000 pounds to 112,000,000 pounds. The consumption of oranges in the United States was increased 300 per cent. in a period of less than seven years by the advertising of the California Fruit Growers’ Exchange. A number of these associations operated with brilliant success after the alleged business-on- commission-men had been doing what they thought was advertising to get increased con- sumption and had reported that the markets would take no more and that overproduction was the problem.
It is not possible to do these things on a short-time basis. You hear some objections to that. The growers may say they wouldn’t think of signing for five years. You may hear
4



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ar

True Farmer Codéperation 89





APPLES AND PLUMS In the foreground are apple trees, in the middle distance are plums, while beyond those are orchards of other fruits. This producer is allowed to join any of the codperatives for which he produces. No one, however, who is not a pro- ducer can be a member of the California-plan codperative
the same story that went through California some years ago.
When we started the prune campaign, that was the “Last of the Mohicans” as far as the speculators of California were concerned. Prunes were proving profitable for specula- tors. All the other dried fruits were organ- ized. They put on a real fight to prevent the organization of the growers. They sent buyers into district after district, trying to convince the farmers that they should not sign. The buyers would sit down and talk to the individual farmer and would say: “ Yes, it’s a mighty good contract, a fine idea for the growers. We believe in codperation. If it were only for one year instead of five, | would advise you to sign it. But how do you fellows know that those other fellows aren’t crooked? For five years you will have to tie yourself up to the same fellows and you don’t know who they are.”
One wise farmer gave an answer—it went all over the state: “| have two choices before
me, either to sign with these growers who are just like me, and have the same interest— they are taking as much chance with me as | am taking with them—or I have to sign up with you for life, only you haven’t told me where to sign on the dotted line and what you’ll make me take for my prunes.
“T have had enough of you, I am going to take a chance for five years with the other fellows.”
That went all over the state. They began to realize that it was a question of tying themselves up with an association for a fixed period or tying up with the speculator for life.
And we go still further: we organize not only from a permanent standpoint, but just as one would organize a bank. To start a bank the capital needed would depend on the field in which it was to operate. That is sound bank- ing. Ifa banker trying to locate in New York had to open a bank with $25,000 capital most people would say: “ Poor man, he is so limited


go Aaron in his field of activity he can’t do anything.” Wherever a bank is to be located there is a proper minimum, a proper capital, a proper figure at which it can do business.
HOW THE MINIMUM IS SET
HE farmers’ business in California is as
important as a bank. When a coépera- tive association is started a minimum is fixed at once for our coéperative contracts. With raisins the minimum was 75 per cent. That was based cold-bloodedly on the idea that there would be an overproduction. With that minimum there was enough tied up so that if there was an overproduction and they couldn’t increase cons:nption in a few years, nevertheless they could carry over some and compel the buyers to come for some raisins.
With other products there are different minimums. With eggs all the contracts were conditioned on signing up the owners of 1,000,000 hens. To-day we have 2,300,000. With prunes the minimum was 75 per cent.; with pears, 50 percent. Nocontract is effec- tive until that minimum is reached. With this arrangement the codperatives start as solidly as a bank. It is a business proposi- tion.
Then those growers are tied to each other under as tight a contract as can be drawn. We have been criticized for that type of contract. Men refer to it very scathingly, calling it all kinds of names. We see to it that if any man signs a contract he is going to deliver the product. We have taken the contract into court time after time, and not only got liqui- dated damages, but likewise got injunctions to prevent delivery to other people. We get decrees for specific performance on this con- tract. We get equitable relief all the way down the line. In short, we make the con- tracts the strongest link, not the weakest. We use strong clauses in just the same way as if a bank were being organized, the sub- scription agreements for capital would be drawn up making it the strictest contract possible. We always realize that the specu- lators are interested in preventing our success; sometimes they keep fighting until we wipe them out. The speculator gets some growers. The temptation is strong. We have welchers occasionally; then we need strength in the contract. An honest man doesn’t really need contracts. The man who is not honest had better not sign. If he does sign, we will get

Sapiro
his product. We organize from a_ purely business standpoint and have strong contracts —a fixed minimum and the idea of perman- ency; all on a non-profit and codperative method.
The association without capital stock is ideal for the marketing association. If a building, a warehouse, or packing plant is needed, no matter how cheap or expen- sive, we organize a subsidiary organization. Conservatism is a primary necessity. Monop- olies are forbidden under the Sherman Anti- Trust Act. The Clayton Amendment, how- ever, exempts agricultural and horticultural associations not organized for profit and not having capital stock. This is extremely technical. The Sherman Act involves law. Every part must be strictly construed. In organizing, it is wise to keep as closely as possible to the text of the law.
The marketing association is organized without capital stock. The only association that buys or sells has no capital stock. Not
a single penny’s worth of stuff is handled for |
an outsider. It is purely codperative. There is no speculation. If we have a monopoly it is a monopoly solely and literally through coéperation. We get the benefit of this ex- emption. Now the Capper-Volstead Act gives a similar exemption to all kinds of co- operatives; but we shall prefer no capital stock in co6peratives.
As a matter of fact, a co6perative market- ing association doesn’t need capital. It isn’t buying anything for cash or a fixed price. It is organized to sell something. Keep distinct the difference between the Rochdale Consum- ers’ Stores and the Farmers’ Marketing As- sociation. The marketing association needs something to market. Therefore, its basis is the marketing contract with a minimum. The Rochdale Consumers’ Store wants some- thing first to buy, which then it sells. It needs capital and needs dividends. There is the big distinction.
So, then, a codperative marketing associa- tion should be absolutely non-profit pro- ducing. The association makes agreements directly with the growers. They are either agency arrangements or sale and resale ar- rangements. The association grades the pro- duct; pools by grades; sells the products; deducts the cost of doing business; then the balance goes to the growers proportionately.
There are two types of contracts under

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True Farmer
which the codperative association works. One type is the agency contract. If it is dealing with fresh fruits or vegetables—things on which there is a routing problem to get them to the market where they are best able to be absorbed—if there is no necessity to store anything or finance anything—it would work with an agency contract. The association is the producer’s agent. Agency contracts are the easiest things to draw, and are perfectly simple things, so simple that one of our past governmental departments put them out as ideal contracts for codperative marketing associations. Apparently that particular de- partment had never heard of the sale and re- sale type of contract, which is the type universally used by associations that deal in non-perishable products.
Where there is a non-perishable product it must be financed. Where it is financed the association must get tit e to the property or it
Coéperation Ol cannot give any adequate collateral; it cannot indorse a warehouse receipt; it cannot handle the product as collateral. Therefore more than eleven years ago we evolved the so- called sale and resale contract; in which the grower sells his product and gives title to the association. The association agrees to pay him his proportionate share of the resale proceeds, less the cost of doing business.
The key to the Californian coéperative is the pool. The prune growers give a good ex- ample of the pooling idea.
Prunes are, first of all, fruits of different types or varieties. There is the Italian brand, which is sometimes known as the Oregon brand. There is the French brand, the Petite, and the Imperial brand. Prunes are also sold by size, so many to the pound— 20-30, 30—40, 40-50, 50-60, 60-70, 70-80, 80-90 90-100, 100-120, and 120 up. Then, in ad- dition, prunes are sold by quality. If it isa


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CHERRY BLOSSOMS
- There are many small codperative organizations, which have proved that the California plan can succeed.
It is now
the desire of such leaders as Mr. Sapiro to organize tobacco, cotton, and, if the tremendous difficulties inherent in the
great size of the enterprise can be overcome, to organize wheat ‘ ( t cooperative methods is interested primarily in the product itself, and not at all in the place of its origin.
The consumer of all these products that are subject to i Therefore, if
the Boston housewife finds Oregon apples to be better for her purpose than Massachusetts apples, she buys the former, and is entirely uninterested in those of less distant origin


92 Aaron fine purple prune, which has not been dried out too much, and which is not too soft, that is the highest grade, “The Sunsweet.”’ If it is dried too much, or a little too soft or cracked or bronzed, it is not the highest grade, but goes in another pool. If it is badly bronzed, or cracked, or dried, or entirely too damp and is likely to spoil quickly and become mildewed, it goes into the third class. We make various pools of the poorer grades of prunes by sample.
WHERE A CROP GOES
O EVERY man delivering prunes may de- liver into ten different-sized classes and at the same time deliver two different varieties and two or three different grades. He may have prunes in forty different pools in a single crop. Then that same association handles apricots, and he may have apricots in per- haps twenty pools. His fruit may be in sixty pools in the association at any one time. When he delivers his fruit he gets a grade receipt telling him how many prunes he has sent in, the size, and the quality. That is all. He doesn’t own those prunes any more; the title passes to the association.
The association mingles that man’s prunes together with prunes of the same grade, type, and variety from every other grower in a com- mon pool. The pool is sold and the grower has an interest in the entire proceeds exactly proportionate to the percentage of the pool which he put in. If he puts in 1 per cent. of the prunes in the 20-30 Sunsweet or first grade he gets 1 per cent. of the net sale proceeds. Thus, every man in the associa- tion gets the same as every other man for the same type, grade, quantity, and quality of product. It is absolute codperation.
In that process, of course, the first problem is the problem of grading. We have had said to us that every man’s prunes are different from every other man’s prunes. That is absolutely true, in a sense. But we realized that even though there were differences, there were some methods of grading, for often pen- alties were imposed and often premiums paid. There are always bases for commercial classi- fication.
So, from the standpoint of grading, the problem is not so difficult as we are told. There is no reason, why the codperatives should not employ the very same men the buyers employ, using the best talent avail- able determining the value of their products.
Sapiro
The California farmer pays his farm hired man sometimes $4 a day, to help with produc- tion. Then he has a $20,000-a-year man who sits in Fresno and is hired to sell the fruit for him. The farmers know that their sales will be handled successfully, because they know they have an expert in a position where spe- cialized knowledge is the first requirement.
We have unquestionably the finest experts in their lines in our industries. There are no better men in the United States than the men in the California fruit associations. They are paid well, for one can’t ask for a fair price for raisins and deny a fair compensation for brains. There is competition for brains as well as for products. The codperatives em- ploy bankers for financing problems, and rail- road men for transportation, and they get experts. Our farmers do the thing they are best fitted for. Our experts do the other things that the farmers are not fitted for. There is a very good economic reason why the farmer is not fitted to sell his own products.
The next universal question is: “When you get the experts on the job, what do they do? Do they work miracles of merchandising?”’
Coéperative marketing simply permits you to merchandise your products. Merchandis- ing your products means to follow the theo- retical rule of supply and demand. But the term “supply and demand” is not used in the style in which old-style economists used it—as weird machinery which in some way skillfully strips the producer and carries home riches for the middleman. The term “supply and demand” is a flexible term. There are movable factors in those words. Take the term “supply,’—it includes the terms of “where and when,” “time and place.” There are two movable factors in the word “sup- ply.” The codperative association always tries to find the movable factors.
In the case of eggs, the time factor is stor- age. About two thirds of the supply is pro- duced in three and a half months of the year. In the other eight and a half months the other one third is produced. We know from ex- perience in all parts of the country, that there is a flush and famine period in production. What is the merchandising problem there? The merchandising problem is time and place again. In spring eggs are stored. The as- sociation stored 2,000,000 dozen eggs last year from the flush period for use in the October-to-December period. We did more

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Farmer Codéperation
93


AN


ORCHARD OF PRUNE TREES
The coéperatives are careful graders of their products, and none of them have done more to improve quality than have the prune associations
than that. We found a process by which we could take perfectly fresh eggs and by machinery dip them in oil at a temperature of 240 degrees. By moving the eggs through that oil for five seconds, it boils that little filament underneath the shell and makes it impervious to air. We then have a processed egg which may be put in ordinary storage for a year or two years; and the egg can be poached at the end of that period, and no one can tell by taste or smell or in any other way that it is not an absolutely fresh egg. It can- not be made fresher than it started out; but it can be kept fresh.
Last year it processed about 25,000 cases of thirty dozen to the case. We sold them as California processed eggs. We made a fine premium on those eggs. That is taking care of the problem of time and place. We are not missing any legitimate methods, by which we can get for our growers any merchandising
advantage of eggs. At the same time the public is going to get marvelous advantage through processed eggs, when those eggs be- come better known, because, instead of pay- ing very high prices for perfectly fresh eggs in fall and winter, they can use processed eggs. The association puts out high-grade fancies for the people who want them; but it believes the people may prefer the processed eggs and get all the benefit they can from the better merchandising method.
Every association experiments. They have experimented on the package prune—two- pound cartons, five-pound boxes—so that they won’t sugar, won’t mold, won’t spoil with the heat—so that the people won’t have to buy them out of dirty boxes that are put on the floor at the groceries.
They experimented with the package, with every phase of production. They tried to get people to eat more prunes. Men were sent



04 Aaron to China. They came back and told the associations that the people over there who could afford to buy prunes were very limited in number, but there were enough in a big country like China to justify opening a mar- ket. They said that it would be necessary to give away samples because the Chinese did not know what California prunes are. Act- ing on this suggestion small samples were projected—two or three prunes in a little box. A Chinese expert was asked to pass on it. He was shown the kind of boxes that were to be used, and the labels on them. The label had a purple prune. He threw up his hands in horror. “ You can’t give away those.”
“Why?”
“Purple is the sign of old age and death; you couldn’t give those away; they wouldn’t touch them.”
So when the prune associations start to develop the Chinese market they will not use purple on their boxes. But they are going to develop that market; they are going to de- velop the Japanese market. They will give away samples. They will have to get out posters and put them on poles. They are going to try to make arrangements for plas- tering them on jinrickshas. They stay right on the job as to merchandising methods. The problem of financing the growers must be faced at the start.
HOW ADVANCE PAYMENTS ARE MADE
Bie trerbonn couldn’t exist unless
they could find some method for making advance payments—payments on account when they get the product. They have gone through that process time after time in Cali- fornia. Different methods are used. In some cases the association gets direct credit on the basis of its stored products.
In 1919 the prune growers had a written arrangement with a group of bankers; they considered the problem locally with the local bankers and then they invited their city cor- respondents and they got New York bankers into the pool. They formed a great pool under which, by written agreement, they could borrow up to $10,000,000 at 42 per cent. for their rieeds during the year. They didn’t even have to give up the warehouse receipts. Chey gave a statement of the quantities of fruit coming into the warehouses. They got all the funds needed for the advance payment and paid the growers from 4 to 8 cents, depending

Sapiro
on the size and quality. That 4 to 8 cents advance payment paid them was a good deal more than the average that they used to re- ceive for the entire crop for a period of over six years, and almost twice as much as they received for the average of the entire crop for a period of over twelve years. Then, in addition to that, they got the balance of the payments, the average bringing them up to more than 11 cents a pound for the entire year. They got that balance from time to time—1 cent in October, 1 cent in December and so on—until the prunes of the season were sold. That is one system.
Another system was evolved by one of the wheat associations in 1921. They arranged with some local bankers what the fair loan value on the crop would be. They were business men. They were not speculators. They did not go to the bankers and say: “Give us 90 or 80 percent.” They went in and fixed the amount and the banks said: “ You men are certainly sound.” They arranged for an amount of from $1 to $1.25 a bushel for wheat, depending on the grade.
Here was the process: The grower delivered his wheat to any public warehouse or any pub- lic elevator. If he delivered it at an elevator he got a so-called grain or wheat ticket show- ing that he had delivered there say 10,000 bushels of No. 1. If he delivered it to the public warehouse he got a warehouse receipt.
He took the receipt over to the association manager or mailed it in. That was delivery of his crop. The association mailed a regular form (that would be a three- or a six-months’ draft, because those drafts are agricultural paper) for $12,500 to be signed by the grower, and, of course, it was sent to him signed al- ready by the association. If the grower needed money or wanted money—I think the growers always wanted money—he took the draft to the approving local bank. With the draft went a list of bankers that approved the plan. (We insist on the growers dealing with the local banks wherever the local banks will deal with us. The local bank discounts the draft at the current rate—6 or 63 or 7 per cent.) Ifthe draft was a three-months’ draft, as most of them were, the bank deducted its three months at 6 or 63 or 7 per cent. and handed him $12,500, less the discount. The bank then had that draft—which was an in- land trade bill, technically signed by the grower and accepted by the association. At
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the end of the day we sent over to the bank, which notified us that it had the draft, the warehouse receipt cover- ing that transaction. (Or the association may give the draft to the grower with the warehouse re- ceipt attached.) So the bank had that draft signed by the grower and the association, with the warehouse receipt at- tached.
The grower’s name is worth something because in most cases he is known personally to the banker. And if not, the bank knows there is something behind that, something of value. If the moral value and the grower’s signature are not worth anything, the bank knows the association has not only that man but a great many growers signed up for a_ period of four more years and the bank knows that that is worth something. The banker says he doesn’t care primarily about either. What he cares about is the wheat. He favored a steadied market value and a conservative basis, not at a high basis in a choppy market—because anybody with sense knew that 1920 markets on wheat were not conservative or stable markets, but choppy markets. Here the association and the banks agreed.
The bank has on hand a paper that is re- discountable by the Federal Reserve Bank by direct written ruling from the Federal Reserve Board. If he is a member of the Federal Reserve system, he discounts direct with the Spokane branch and gets the money. If not, he keeps the paper or sells it to his city cor- respondent. The city correspondent may sell It again, or may discount that paper.
In financing these codperative associations, no new banking channels have been created,
95



APPLE TREES IN YOSEMITE
The raisin codperative is more typical of the California plan than the apple codperative, for raisin growers are entirely confined to California
no banking methods changed, but existing systems have been found adequate to meet every financial emergency experienced by the growers.
As the responsible guides of the commercial life of America, the bankers should study critically the codperative movement in Amer- ica and adapt the proved principles of suc- cessful codperation to the commodities which they finance. If they want to keep the farmer producing, and to enabe him to adopt a de- cent standard of living and to avoid tenancy, there is only one proved means to accomplish this end.
But the solving of the financial problems for the growers of our great crops is not the pri- mary accomplishment of codperative market- ing.




Aaron Sapiro



Our agricultural citizenship has frequently been assailed because of its disregard for the culture and erudition which characterized metropolitan citizenship.
What spirituality and what unwavering vision must a man possess who clings to some hope of social or commercial opportunities for a family he has not sufficient income to pro- vide with the bare necessities of life!
What chance is there for cultural develop- ment in a disorganized and undirected popula- tion?
In sections of the country where this new system of orderly distribution of agricultural products has been introduced the enduring farmer is transformed into a man of accom-

A VALLEY OF ORANGE GROVES
California oranges are common in almost every home in the country. orange association is one of the largest and most effective of all the codperatives
The
plished efforts; through better roads, leading to more centralized educational units, through better rural schools with teachers sustained by a suitable recompense, and through an added number of churches injecting higher aims and a sense of social responsibility.
Money accumulated in a banking institu- tion for the sole purpose of the interest accru- ing is an infirmity; but an increasing bank account helping to realize higher dreams is a moral asset.
The justification of coéperative marketing is that it has been the means of a more progressive form of living and a superior type of citizenship, as well as an economic remedy.

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DOUBLING THE GUARDS ON HEALTH
How Men are Being Trained in the Science of Public Health, and the Work They are Doing in Preventing Epidemics and in Helping the Public to Reduce Disease
By SAMUEL HOPKINS ADAMS
NLY a quarter of a century ago
a health officer was a doctor
with a political pull. The
governor of a state, the mayor
of a city might, and usually did,
without special criticism, choose some party
henchman or appoint his own family physician
as guardian of the general health. The in-
cumbent would probably be quite as fit as the
average possibility for a position the require-
ments of which were as vague as they were
meagre. About all that was expected or
demanded of a health official was that he
should abate an occasional nuisance and tack
up a few quarantine signs in case of epidemic.
He was, as a rule, hardly more than an emer-
gency officer who generally did not know what to do when the emergency came.
How could he be more? There was at that time no science of public health in the general sense; hardly, indeed, anything worthy to be called a system. The politicians who con- trolled these minor offices, as they were then regarded, cared little about the responsibilities of the positions, not so much from callousness as from ignorance. The public demanded nothing in the way of scientific efficiency; it was quite uneducated in public hygiene. If the medical world had inklings of the potenti- alities inhering in concerted preventive effort, the enlightenment was confined to a small and high-thinking minority and was too unsystematized to percolate generally through the profession, still less down to the public. The sanitary and hygienic history of the nineties and even the early nineteen hundreds, has, from a modern viewpoint, more than a touch of the medieval.
It is written in the murderous typhoid mortality of the Spanish-American War camps, a loss which would have been reduced to almost zero by either a modern system of Immunization or a competent practice of Sanitary engineering with reference to the flies

which were the principal disseminators of the scourge; in the barbarous shotgun quaran- tines maintained by the yellow fever ravaged states of the South until Louistana, by a combination of science, common sense, and courage wiped out its epidemic and forever laid that terror; in the vicious suppressions, concealments, and deceptions of the bubonic plague panic on the Pacific coast; in the unreasoning frenzies caused by the occasional discovery in Massachusetts or Ohio or Oregon of some unfortunate and quite harmless leper and his subsequent persecution in the ancient spirit of witch-baiting, while unreckoned and unheeded thousands of tuberculous subjects spread the poison of consumption abroad without restriction; in the smugly horrified prudery which labelled venereal disease, with all its potencies of public damage, “ private”’ and decreed that it should not be even dis- cussed outside of Star Chamber proceedings; in the lightly contemptuous disregard of so harmful an infection as measles with its all- too-frequent sequels of impairment of sight and hearing or of serious and lasting affections of the heart and kidneys; and, lastly, in its total blindness to the almost universal problems of nutrition in its effect upon the growing child.
Yet out of that system, or lack of system, there developed, by the arduous processes of self-training, such health officers as Chapin of Providence, Walcott of Massachusetts, Goler of Rochester, N. Y., Dixon of Pennsylvania, Biggs of New York, Bracken of Minnesota, Blue of Washington, Dowling of Louisiana, and the group of men who laid the foun- dations of the present admirably competent U. S. Public Health Service. What these men learned they got by work in the field and interchange of experience. Out of their endeavors and the application of their hard- acquired technique there arose a broadened and intensified conception of what a public


98
health official should be and what equipment he should have at his command for the proper exercise of his functions. Associations were formed, and lectures upon subjects which belonged definitely in the realm of public health began to creep into a few medical courses; but, so far as | can discover, there was until quite recently no recognition in any American medical school curriculum that a public health officer should have training in any important way differing from that which went to the making of a private phy- sician. UNIVERSITY TRAINING
HE establishment of a special course in
public hygiene and sanitation at the Uni- versity of Pennsylvania little more than a decade ago marks the second step. Harvard, Columbia, Michigan, California, and other institutions followed, offering practical courses under competent experts; but none of these was comprehensive nor, so to speak, self-containing. All tended to overlap too much the regular medical course. None had satisfactory resources for original research and investigation into the continually arising problems which the warfare against disease brings up. True, public health experts were being graduated with an equipment both more compact and more extensive than had before been available, and these were quickly absorbed by a demand which was always in advance of the supply, but even these men were not trained in a degree answering to the newer and more explicit requirements which ' were already in process of formulation. The test came when the International Health Board of the Rockefeller Foundation began to look about with a view to organizing a personnel for its projected campaigns.
The tremendous achievement of the Inter- national Health Board in its investigation of and warfare against the hookworm, with incalculable physiological and economic bene- fits to the infested region, showed for the first time in concrete results what could be accom- plished through concerted effort on a large scale by a corps of scientists having back of them unlimited resources for the carrying through of a specific medical campaign. Suc- cess in this beginning suggested logically the possibilities in similar campaigns against other and more difficult and obscure forms of communicable disease; to take one group, for
Samuel Hopkins Adams

example, the commonly recurrent epidemics. k Plenty of problems lay ready to hand, both in [ this and other fields; the International Health Board was free to choose its field of battle; the armament for the fight would be forth- coming; what was needed was the men. Now, the business apothegm that “if you’ve got the price you can always find the man” does not apply in the field of medical science. There was available “the price’ to any needful extent, but where were the specially trained hygienists and sanitarians in numbers sufficient to carry out the programme? Such of them as met or approached the required standards were already in official positions from which they could not be detached with- out serious detriment to the public interest. The medical schools having departments specializing on public health were not turning out graduates fast enough to fill the quota [7 to which the International Health Board was looking forward as its plans should develop. |~ The Board summoned to its aid a score of the ' leading medical scientists and sociologists in [7 the country, who held a conference to de- |) cide what was to be done. F That conference, differing internally though it did on minor phases of procedure, came to unanimous agreement upon one salient point, the lack of a sufficient force of adequately trained public health service men and the im- mediate need of a school of public health of the highest standard, connected with a university and medical school, and having for its nucleus an institute of hygiene. Out of that grew the School of Public Health and Hygiene of Johns Hopkins University with an endowment of five million dollars from the Rockefeller Foundation, to be used not only for the edu- | cation of public health experts, but also for © research and investigation along any lines \ which may contribute to the solution of the © manifold problems of the fight against disease. } Broadly stated the main purpose of the school is so to train its candidates for the degree of Doctor of Public Health that they shall be competent to meet both the normal demands of health administration, Federal, state, county, or municipal, and the special diffi- 9 culties arising from epidemic onsets or emer FF gency conditions. I think it is not too much |

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to say that the man who graduates to-day from that institution with his degree oI | D.P.H. is, if he has made the most of the opportunities afforded him, the most compre >




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SPA RENG:
Doubling the Guards on Health
hensively trained medical type anywhere to be found. As nearly as errant human nature can approximate perfection, he should be the ideal health officer.
So broad is the scope of the new public health training that it is much simpler to state what lies outside it than what lies within. The degenerative ailments, heart disease, kidney troubles, most of the stomach affections, nerve derangements, the special ills of old age; these are problems beyond the reach of public medicine, to be handled by the private physician. With cancer, even though it is the most portentous element in the general death rate with its stubborn and inexplicable increase, the official health guardian can do nothing beyond lending his aid to the campaign of education looking to early diagnosis and operation, since the basis of knowledge as to the cause of it is insuffi- cient. Mental diseases and the ever-present problem of the defective child lie in a debat- able ground between public hygiene and purely individual treatment, as did tubercu- losis and venereal disease for years until, perceiving that private medicine was making no perceptible advance against the “white’”’ and the “red’’ plagues, the forces of public health took possession of that No Man’s Land in the present campaign of education and prevention. Surgery, of course, is a separate science.
With the few and narrow exceptions noted, practically all the major ills that flesh is heir to, challenge the modern health officer. As experience and research develop more and more the nature and sources of communicable diseases on the one hand, and on the other define the causative influences which, through environment, occupation, or diet undermine individual vitality and thus affect adversely the well-being of the community, his equip- ment must needs be the more complex and thorough. A study of the School of Hygiene circular presents subjects which, to the lay mind, would seem widely alien to any medi- cal practice. Why, for instance, should the physician in charge of a city give his time to the study of a mathematical subject such as Statistics, or perfect himself in the purely natural science of entomology? The matter of statistics is, however, fundamental. The very foundation of a health-protective system Is accurate knowledge of the dangers to be combatted. Up to recent years most of our
99
vital statistics have been a hodge-podge of approximations, evasions, and guess work vitiated by the perverted civic ambition of those in authority to “make a good showing”’ or to appear (not to be) “the healthiest city in the state.’ There are at least two cities in the West whose claims led them into such deliberate juggling of figures that for years their low official death rate was a joke among experts, the country over. (The figures subsequently rose, but I have yet to find any one who believes the communities less healthy than before.) The graduate of the new institution will go forth with sufficient sta- tistical knowledge to enable him to ascertain from what causes and to what extent the public under his care has died in past years, and hence to determine in what direction his efforts at future guardianship should be ad- dressed. In the statistical department of the school there is now being carried on an in- vestigation of tuberculosis on the side of heredity. To complete it will take years of patient gathering and compiling of detail, but when the work is done it may well result in knowledge of the persistent incidence of the “white plague,”’ at present so little controlled in spite of the best that legislation and edu- cation can do, from which will develop new possibilities of control. If there are “con- sumption families,’’ as we used erroneously to believe that there were “cancer houses,” a knowledge of what and where they are would clearly help in protecting their environ- ment.
HOW MALARIA IS CURBED
UPPOSE the newly graduated Doctor of Public Health finds himself in charge of a district with a high malaria rate. Here comes in his training in entomology, for the problem of malaria is purely a mosquito problem. Only through the bite of the anopheles mos- quito is the fever transmitted. If he can control the breeding of the pestilential insect he can eradicate the disease. Such control may be a matter of yard-to-yard inspection, for the anopheles will breed in almost any stagnant water, whether in a cistern or a forgotten tomato can which has been allowed to gather rain. Or it may call for a display of sanitary engineering as well as of entomo- logical knowledge. If the infested com-
munity is bordered with swamps, the natural hatcheries of the pests, then the eradication


100
of the insects involves either the drainage of the marshy places or such treatment of them, by coatings of oil, that the larva of the mos- quito cannot reach the surface and so liberate herself for her fever-bearing mission. There have been cases where a health official with thorough knowledge of his subject has con- vinced his community that eradication of the swamps was not only an advisable hygienic measure but was also economically profitable through the use of the reclaimed land.
DANGER FROM FLIES
HE fly is a universal foe to health. It has
been indubitably proved to be the chief agent in the spread of typhoid fever, next to water and milk, and there is at least a possi- bility that it is influential in disseminating some forms of intestinal trouble. I have already spoken of the high mortality of the Spanish-American war caused by the plague of flies in the camps. As a contrast I recall the medical training camp, Greenleaf, as | saw it in the crowded times of the late war. Flies were not much more common there than bald eagles, and the rare appearance of one in kitchen, mess hall, or sleeping quarters was the cause of consternation born of the knowl- edge that discovery by the inspection officer would result in a specially black mark. It is superfluous to say that Camp Greenleaf was untroubled by typhoid except for a few cases that came in from outside. As for malaria, | never saw a mosauito within the limits of the camp.
Every community has its potential sani- tary engineering demands in the wardership of its water supply and its sewage systems; therefore the Johns Hopkins school lays special weight upon this topic. Years ago, before Pittsburgh redeemed itself from its unsavory reputation of being the champion typhoid city of America, there came up there, in the course of one of its recurrent epidemics, a typical little mystery. In a fashionable section of the city which had heeded the warnings against the polluted city water, a definite outbreak of typhoid occurred, ran its course and subsided. Subsequent investi- gation developed the interesting fact that the cases ran through the clientele of a local grocer who had been specializing in “pure spring water” which he bottled and sold to his patrons. In nearly every household to which that water went, one or more cases of
Samuel Hopkins Adams
typhoid appeared. The grocer admitted under pressure that the water came froma spring in his own cellar which had provi- dentially (so he considered) made its appear- ance not long before. The spring was traced and found to be an outcropping from a leak in the main sewer of the locality, slightly filtered through some intervening soil! The discovery was considered to be, and actually was in those days, a shrewd bit of detective work. But a modernized health department, having a general typhoid epidemic onits hands (which it is most unlikely that it would have) would, with its day to day statistical returns and spot maps and its engineering knowledge of the ground, almost infallibly have dis- covered and aborted that outbreak before it had run its course.
The new Doctor of Public Health will have a special training in chemistry because he may at any time be called upon to cope with an outbreak of poisoning from improperly canned or preserved foods. He is equipped with a practical knowledge of the technique of bacteriology since adequate protection of the milk and water which may at any time be- come polluted and bear disease, requires that he be able to detect these conditions. Zodl- ogy comes within his scope, for he must be familiar, particularly if his duties call him to a tropical or semi-tropical region, with the internal parasites which prey upon the hu- man race, some of them, such as the hook- worm, exercising an immensely important and adverse influence upon the health and vitality of wide areas. As the local school children are, to a greater or less extent, dependent upon him for guardianship of their welfare during the hours in which they are public wards, he will familiarize himself with the subjects of diet, nutrition, and the prob- lems of air, light, and exercise which so intimately affect the progress of the growing child. Industrial hygiene will be an allied subject, as he is charged with part responsi- bility, in many communities, for working conditions in factories and workshops. In Chicago there is now a special sub-department of the Health Department called the Bureau of Air Conditions for Schools and Industries. Even though our new-type public physician be educating himself especially for city work, he will nevertheless be trained in the field study of certain country hygienic problems, for the country sends its diseases to the cit)




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in bad milk, polluted raw vegetables, or unfit meat. One case of ill-guarded scarlet fever, typhoid, or diphtheria about a dairy may bring on an epidemic outbreak in a city two or three hundred miles away.
But by far the most important and the most hopefully developing phase of the new training is in the department of epidemiology with its allied subjects of immunization, quarantine methods, and the advancing technique of diagnosis and cure. Here the greatest efforts are being made and the most definite advances are being registered, not- withstanding which there is still the most to be done both in investigation of the spread of the diseases and in the practical strategy of prevention. Fairly or unfairly (generally the latter) a medical officer is judged by his community according to his success in hand- ling the emergency strain of an epidemic. In fact, it usually requires the startling lesson of one of these outbreaks to bring home to the average citizen the fact that his local health administration may be a vital influence upon his individual life; an agency to which he has a right to look for protection and to which he owes support and loyalty. One of the greatest of public health experts once said to me of his own city:
“We shall never get our death rate down to a satisfactory level until a whacking big epidemic hits us.”
By which apparent paradox he meant that the public could be taught respect for hygienic laws and regulations only by the scourging lesson of a widespread infection. The epi- demic came, as it always does sooner or later in such conditions. The death rate went up. After the attack was over, the rate dropped to its formal normal, then began to subside little by little below it and from then on it has slowly but steadily decreased. The city had had its costly but necessary lesson.
Taking this country as a whole, the epi- demic disease which is at once the most destructive and the most steadily recurrent is diphtheria. At the same time it is the infection about which the most is known. The organism which causes it has been long identified and minutely studied. The method of communication is understood. There is a test determining natural or acquired im- munity on the part of the individual and a somewhat less definite but nevertheless valu- able method of conferring immunity by
IOI
treatment. Finally, anti-toxin is the most valuable and effectual cure known to medi- cal practice with the possible exception of the anti-syphilitic drugs. Before its general use, diphtheria epidemics raged with a virulence sometimes approaching that of cholera and with a percentage of deaths among the stricken almost as high. Anti-toxin enor- mously reduced the death rate from this cause. Census figures for 1900 show that there were 44 deaths from diphtheria for every 100,000 of population. In 1919 this formidable figure had been reduced to 17.7. Gratifying though this would appear, hygienists are far from satisfied with the showing. They compare the figures with those of another “conquer- able” disease, typhoid, which shows a re- duction from 31.3 per 100,000 in 1900 to 4.8 in 1919, and point to the further fact that while typhoid is decreasing steadily with every year, diphtheria, after the marked drop due to the anti-toxin cures, has recently re- mained almost stationary. Why, they ask themselves, since they have full knowledge of the nature of the disease and are armed with both curative and preventive agencies, has medical science not made greater inroads upon it, as great, for example, as upon typhoid? It is logical, then, that one of the first campaigns of research by the School of Hygiene should be directed to the end of further knowledge upon this widely impor- tant subject.
THE ‘‘ CARRIER”
ET me here point out, as I have already in- dicated, that no other medical agency has
ever had at its command such resources for this kind of study. Diphtheria epidemics have been studied on the ground, in the tur- moil and confusion of the emergency, and much of value has been elicited; but no pub- lic health department or private medica! organization has ever had the time or money to go back of the epidemic conditions and determine the conditions precedent to the outbreak or consequent upon it, until the research now in progress. For two years a skilled and experienced epidemiologist, work- ing in conjunction with the Baltimore Health Department, has been making a most detailed study of the population with reference to diphtheria, and has thus far made discoveries regarding that “unknown quantity” of all
epidemics, the carrier, which should havea



102 Samuel Hopkins Adams
lasting influence upon the handling of future onsets. Seven hundred cases of the disease were actually studied during the epidemic. After it had subsided seventy-seven hundred school children were examined and cultures taken from their throats or noses, an exami- nation more thorough and extensive than any other previously made in this country. An astonishing number of carriers of the disease were found. A carrier, in the epidemiological sense, is a person who, without himself being demonstrably ill, preserves the active organ- isms of a communicable disease within him. He may be a recovered case, or a so-called walking case, as in “walking typhoid,”” who for weeks or even months harbors the virulent bacilli; or he may be one who has come into contact with an active case and has acquired the bacilli without exhibiting immediate symptoms, or he may be that most difficult, dangerous, and common type, one who is immune to the infection, and so, without damage to himself or outward evidence of the disease bears with him everywhere the poison which, communicated to others through a chance sneeze or cough or contact, will infect them. The Baltimore survey, made at three different periods, brought to light the fact that in November and December, the months of the greatest normal prevalence of diph- theria, more than 3 per cent. of the school children were carriers; in February and March, about 13 per cent., while in June the number dropped below 1 per cent. That is to say, for the greater part of the year there is an average of at least one active focus of diphtheria to every school in the city. Thus the old theory that a city which has ap- parently been free from diphtheria and suffers an onset must necessarily have been infected from outside is relegated to the category of long-accepted error. Our cities are ap- parently never free from the disease in its latent or carrier form.
Having determined the seasonal prevalence of carriers, the Baltimore experts reasoned that the most favorable period for setting up a defence would be in August and September, because from six weeks to three or four months is required to build up immunity by injections of toxin-anti-toxin. The city authorities designated twenty nurses for a month’s intensive work in one ward; a house to house canvass was made, all parents were urged to
have their children immunized, public edu-

cational meetings were held and immunization clinics established. What the results of all this will be it is still too early to determine. But if there is another diphtheria visitation and Ward 7 shows definitely lower figures than the other districts, the case will have been proved.
When diphtheria has been finished with, there will remain the more difficult epidemic ailments of the “filterable virus” group, caused and communicated through organisms beyond the range of the most powerful micro- scope; measles, smallpox, scarlet fever, infan- tile paralysis, trachoma, and rabies being among the most important. Eventually the blindest trail of all will probably be followed, influenza of the pandemic type which during the War swept the world with a mortality beside which that of the War itself was in- considerable. Thus far medical science has failed as signally in prevention as in cure of the “flu’”’.
CHILD HYGIENE
ERE general protection of the public will not suffice for the new hygiene. It ex- tends its endeavors to improving the type by building up the individual power of resistance. This is chiefly a matter of nutrition and child hygiene. One of the promising forms of research along these lines is that dealing with the widespread condition known as rickets. Rickets does not figure conspicuously in the mortality rates because it is rarely a direct cause of death. But its malign traces are to be found in school inspection reports where the after effects show them- selves in the roster of the undersized, under- developed, physically or mentally defective children. To say that 50 per cent. of Ameri- can children above the age of five have had rickets in a greater or less degree is a con- servative estimate. Most of them overcome the defect. Those who do not, carry into after life the various handicaps of bad jaws and teeth, flat chest, broken arches, and a general super-liability to whatever form of disease may threaten them.
A recent survey of the Baltimore schools shows between twenty and thirty children out of. every hundred who are 10 per cent. or more below normal for their ages. This is not, as might be supposed, a condition typical of those schools drawing from a slum populace, but is general, the best residence

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Doubling the Guards on Health 103
districts producing about the same percentage of deficiency as the poorest. There is no reason to suppose that Baltimore is not typical both as regards incidence and distri- bution of the disease. The problem is uni- versal.
It is mostly a question of nutrition; not simply, as has long been assumed, of under- feeding. A child may get a sufficient quantity of food, may indeed be overfed, and yet if certain elements be lacking to the ration he will develop rachitic symptoms. Here is one of the few instances in which cure is probably more practicable than prevention, for the preventive measures would have to be taken at the very early ages before the child comes under expert observation. Once in school, however, and discovered by the inspection system, which is, on the whole, very effec- tive in American schools, the procedure is simple. Experiments with rats now being carried on in the School of Hygiene show that there are two agencies of cure which, taken together, suffice for all but the deepest-rooted cases; one a type of soluble fat such as is contained in the cod liver oils, the other exposure to sunlight. Some cases of ad- vanced rickets in the rodent subjects have been corrected by the sunlight treatment alone. There remains only to apply this to the human subject. It may take five years or ten or twenty for the lessons thus acquired to permeate our school systems through the influence of the trained experts but eventu- ally the nation will benefit from the effects in a decrease of the lamentably common type of weaklings and spindlings who totter along into adult life to breed children as enfeebled as themselves.
A CASE FROM CHINA
HE research departments of the schools
draw to them for the acquisition of special instruction men who have long been in the field of public health. One of these, a missionary doctor from China, brought with him his own special problem in a very inti- mate sense. He had been stationed in the Han-kow district, a river region where a common intestinal fluke wreaks havoc upon the populace. This parasite, though not zodlogically allied to the hookworm, has much the same effect upon its victims, rendering
them anemic, low in vitality, and in many cases causing a lingering death. No scien- tific study had ever been made of the organ- ism, nor was there anywhere in China the equipment necessary to this form of research. Accordingly the missionary doctor wrote to the Johns Hopkins School of Hygiene asking if they would undertake the work. They replied that they would if they could be pro- vided with the necessary specimens of the fluke. The enthusiast then deliberately in- fested himself with a small number of the parasites and made the long journey to Balti- more bringing them with him. With the experts of the department of helminthology he worked out the life cycle of the creature, for the first time incubating the eggs into larvae under scientific inspection. It was determined that the parasite develops in a “host” before being transmitted to the hu- man interior, probably some one of the several forms of shellfish which form a chief article of diet in the Han-Kow region. The devotee of science, having himself been cured, has returned to China to experiment with the various molluscs of the local waters planting the larvae in them and holding them under observation until he ascertains in which species they develop. The rest is simply a matter of guarding the populace against eat- ing the infected species, and the district will be freed from an increasing peril.
The guardian of the public health, no matter how advanced and well equipped, is obviously not going to defeat death. Nor is it to be expected that he will eliminate disease and bring about a quasi-millenium in which no one dies except of old age. But with the new knowledge which is slowly and pains- takingly being garnered for his benefit, with the growing armament of preventive and defensive medicine at his command, we may reasonably look to him to restrict little by little those forms of illness, whether epidemic or endemic, which destroy the young and hamper or devitalize those in the prime of life, since most of these are demonstrably and all of them theoretically preventable. It can- not be accomplished without the sympathy and intelligent support of the community at large. For the best ally of hygienic science is an educated and health-respecting public.


A TRIP AMONG MY ISLANDS
Further Adventures of an American Governor in the Southern Philippines
By LIEUT.-COL. SYDNEY A. CLOMAN
‘The author of these articles is a lieutenant-colonel of the United States Army, retired. His vivid and humorous narrative makes not only a lively true tale of adveniure but also a remark- able picture of the very buman methods by which our colonial administrators have made a record second lo none for their success in handling backward peoples and carrying to them modern ideas
of law and social frogress—TuHE Epirors.
HORTLY after my first durbar, | sent a messenger around with a noti- fication that | intended visiting each of the islands in the group. I more and more realized the difficulty of
my task in maintaining order among. this strange, fierce people—“ half devil and half child’”’—under the conditions laid down, and | early saw that the power of a great nation at a distance administered through a strange officer meant nothing to them, and it was only by intimate personal contact, knowl- edge of their customs and methods of thought, in fact, by becoming one of their own chiefs, that | could be successful. In making this journey, | could do one of two things: Either take with me a force sufficent to overawe the populous communities and make the whole expedition safe, or go with only a couple of men to handle the boat and trust to this dis- play of confidence in them to see me through. In the old days, any Spaniard outside of the Bongao block-house was fair game, and only a few of the islands had ever been visited even in force. | already had notified the chiefs that we intended travelling through the is- lands with perfect freedom, and if there were any picnics consisting of the shooting up of towns and yelling defiance after nightfall we would do it ourselves, while they would play the party of the second part. Someone had to start the new dispensation, so | concluded to take only Miller and Gibbons to handle the boat, and of course take along Datto Tanton as guide and official introducer. | also con- cluded to break the journey in two parts, one among the southern islands in the Whitehall boat, then a return to Bongao and a change to a large native prau for the rougher and longer trip among the northern islands of the group.
On this expedition we were always aware of the beauties that surrounded us in a tropic world where only man is vile; but one loses sight of the beauty of a coral reef after spend- ing half the night trying to get back to deep water after grounding on the submerged flat that extends for miles; the song of the mos- quito will obliterate all the soft sounds of na- ture except the resultant profanity, and one’s ecstasies over an ylang-ylang tree in full bloom will be tempered if the local béche-de-mer is being dried to windward. The events con- nected with the visit to a native village were in general similar:—beating around a wooded point that gradually unveiled the village; the thunder of the sweet-toned Malay gongs; entering the sheltered cove, dropping the sail and manning the oars; the gradual approach to the village, built out on tall piles, thus giv- ing the tides a chance at the sewage; the flocking of the entire population to the beach to await our landing, headed by their chiefs; and we are there. Then the greetings and the walk to the house of the principal chief, followed by the entire highly colored crowd, the approach to the raised and canopied dais at the end of every chief’s hall, and the cere- monious offering of the place of honor at the head to myself, the seating of all the chiefs below me—and the conference is on. Us- ually as many of the inhabitants as possible crowd in and stand with mouth agape while we talk; for a chief’s house seems to be about as private as a town hall. 1! will speak only
of the few variations in this programme.
I ostentatiously carried a .45 Colt’s revolver in my belt, more as a badge of office than any- thing else, and always created a profound sensation by rising from the dais, going to a distant part of the hall and hanging it on the wall before the conference began, and paying





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A Trip Among My Islands 105




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A MORO

TOWN
In the Sulu Archipelago, typical of many built on piles along the shore line. The rising and falling tides fortunately serve as a sewage disposal system
no further attention to it. This sign of per- fect confidence in my dearly beloved people always caused a murmur of appreciation. But they were not aware that the cartridges in the revolver thus so confidently entrusted to them were blanks, while concealed in my blue flannel shirt was a .32 Smith & Wesson with something more practical in the cylin- ders. Of course, had anything ever started, | would have been hacked to pieces at once, so it is well that it never did; still it would have given me some satisfaction to have had a young sport pull down the .45 and open on me with blanks while | bestowed upon Fim some- thing real from the Smith & Wesson.
Our visit to the large town of Tubigindag- gan was somewhat unique, in that we did not arrive until late at night, after all the in- habitants had turned in. The tide was flood, so we sailed alongside the chief’s house, and entered directly his great hall. He hastily caused lights to be brought, installed me as usual on the great dais, and presented his wife and sister-in-law. In the meantime, the town had wakened up, although the hall for a wonder was not invaded. Finally the voices of children outside became so strident that | asked the chief what it was all about. He then informed me that the children had never seen a white man and that they were pleading
to be allowed to enter and see the show, and for this he apologized. | then asked him to open the doors and give them their treat, and at once the hall was crowded to the doors. I do not think | have ever been so self-con- scious. | sat cross-legged on the dais like the tatooed man in a sideshow with a sea of shin- ing eves below me, that silently and breath- lessly noted every movement and expression; and while | tried to keep up an intelligent conversation with the chief and appear un- embarrassed, the strain became too great and I. was speedily compelled to indicate that the show was over. He cleared the room with a word, and | was again left alone with the family. ;
The chief was a modest, handsome, and intelligent young man who had recently made the pilgrimage to Mecca, hence the
“Hadji’’ took precedence over his other titles. The sister-in-law was as bright and
prepossessing as it is possible for a female Moro to be, and Tanton told me that she had recently left her husband, so I asked Hadji Halimon about her history. Such _ inde- pendence in one of her sex was quite uncom- mon. She was the daughter of Panglima Jeffol, the chief of Buan Island, a powerful and brutal man who had married her off, when ridiculously young, to a rich old man who was


106
one of his pals and mainstays. When she finally left her sodden old lord and master and took refuge with her sister, Jeffol was enraged at the idea of returning the large sum paid for her, and threatened trouble. When | asked Halimon about divorce, he said it would be impossible before the lapse of three years, and even then she would have to return to her father and be resold, probably to some other wretched old capitalist. Knowing the power and brutal character of his father-in- law, this all gave Halimon much concern and he feared trouble.
He was perfectly correct about the trouble, and | might as well finish the story here. Some weeks afterward the girl fell in love with a decent young Moro, and Halimon, in his religious capacity, was prevailed upon to perform the marriage ceremony. Soon after- ward a spy reported to him that Jeffol was organizing an expedition to carry fire and sword against his town. It was hopeless to resist, so with his family, the newly wedded couple and a few servants, he foolishly took to his boats and sailed for British North Borneo. In the meantime, he sent me a messenger with the news, and begged me to save the innocent people of Tubigindaggan from extinction. |
Lieut.-Col. Sidney A. Cloman
was thoroughly angry about this whole affair. Jeffol was a stubborn and headstrong man, who was already in my black books for a number of small disloyalties, and so, as rapidly as possible, | sent a message to the people of Tubigindaggan to come to Bongao under my protection, and one to Jeffol that if he did not report to me at Bongao within twenty- four hours, or if he started out an armed expedition without my authority, | would move against his island at once. He delayed his expedition and reported at Bongao within the time limit. He was sullen and threaten- ing, and | must admit that | handled him without gloves. | assured him that he would be summarily shot if he injured any of Hali- mon’s family or friends, and that if he had any complaint against them it should be laid before me for judgment. |! took up the mat- ter of his petty disloyalty and disobedience in the past, and told him what he was, at some length. Tanton was present at the in- terview, and when | ended up my summation of the Panglima’s character, the latter turned to him and hissed, “I will kill him for that!” | did not understand the expression, but Tanton sprang to his feet and grabbed a heavy barong from among my trophies on the
wall. Later, Tanton


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A MORO DATTO OF MINDANAO The people of Mindanao are very similar to those of the Sulu Islands, which It was to visit the principal dattos of his district that Colonel Cloman made the journey described herein
are scattered south and west of Mindanao.
asked me never to use any expression coupled with the word “pig’’ to a Moro chief when | was unarmed. The interview ended by my circum- scribing his powers, as- suring him that he would be under constant sur- veillance, and ordering him to report to me each Sunday morning to ren- der an account of his stewardship. In case of further trouble, he was to lose his property and chieftaincy and be ban- ished from the group. This ended that phase of the matter but he was never a very cheerful week-end visitor.
As for Halimon and his party. On their way to Borneo, they stopped at Sibutu Island and




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A Trip Among My Islands 107



A MORO SPEAR DANCE These Moros are natives of Zamboanga, the southernmost town in Mindanao
were invited to have the delayed wedding feast in a friendly chief’s house. They went armed, of course, not knowing how closely they were pursued, and the bridegroom placed his rifle close behind him and leaning against a heavy red curtain that divided the room in half. During the feast the young couple were joked about the fact that since their marriage they had been so busy escap- ing with their lives that they had not yet kissed. Of course such a thing in public was unheard of, but it seems that the bridegroom rose to the occasion and straightway seized upon his bride who sat on a cushion next to him. There was a short struggle amid screams of laughter, the rifle fell to the floor and was discharged, and the bullet went squarely through the heart of the little bride. It is of interest to know that the charge of murder was included when the delectable Jeffol finally submitted his bill of particulars. All | could do was to place the bereaved hus- band under my protection, and during the remainder of my stay in the islands he lived at Sibutu in a thatched shelter over her grave, which was daily covered with fresh blossoms and flowers.
To return to my visit to Halimon. After a peaceful night’s sleep on the dais, | was aroused by my host with the modest state- ment that his women knew nought of our food and method of cooking, and he was afraid that | could not find the breakfast which was
about to be served very appetizing. He was right.
A servant brought in an immense brass tray crowded with small dishes containing cooked fish, chicken, eggs, and rice, while another brought the ewer of water and nap- kin with which the hands are washed before and after the meal. I wanted to be polite and appreciative and “messed about” in a vain effort to find something warranted to stay down, but it was impossible. It is diffi- cult to spoil an egg, but scrambling it in rancid cocoanut oil will do the trick. Aftera dissertation on the American habit of fasting in the morning, | put in a couple of hours in conference with the chiefs, and then sailed on my way. The utter recklessness with which our young and healthy crew then plied hatchets on our cans of rations may be ima- gined.
During our swing through the southern islands, | visited Sibutu. This was the southernmost of the Philippines and only 9 miles from Borneo. It was left out of con- sideration at the Treaty of Paris, and the meridian bounding our possessions by that treaty passed between it and Bongoa. When
this was discovered later, a new arrangement was necessary, for Germany was in the market for anything that had escaped us and it was very undesirable that she should be inter- jected between ourselves and the British pos- sessions on the south and furthermore com-


108 Lieut.-Col. Sidney A. Cloman
mand this narrow strait leading from the Asiatic coast to Australia. A short time be- fore, a gun boat had brought me a dispatch announcing its purchase by us and directing me to assume charge of it and add it to my troubles. It is a very prosperous community by reason of the pearl fisheries and other sea products and the principal village contains about four hundred inhabitants. The island is surrounded by a coral flat from the edge of which the sounding line drops to 600 feet, so there is no anchorage except for small boats. Near the centre of the island the arch of an underground river of especially pure water has broken through, and this is believed by the natives to come from Borneo. When children are drowned in it, the parents row to sea about three miles to the east, and there sometimes the bodies come to the surface and are re- covered. The strait between Sibutu and Bongao is known to Moros as “The Black Water” and is very dangerous. During cer- tain seasons of the year the water rushes through it like a mill race, and only the light- est craft with good sails and many oars dare
to try to make the passage. Once while | was at Bongao, a canoe with three men was swept back and forth for eleven days before they reached land, and as they had water for but one day, their condition when rescued was pitiable indeed. My visit was unevent- ful and the announcement that they had changed masters did not disturb them at all, the general idea being that of the young ladies in the Floradora sextette——‘‘| must love someone truly, and it might as well be you.” Little | thought during this pleasant visit that I should later become the Nemesis of this island; but a few months later there was one of those complicated, senseless, and bloody affrays there in which, as usual, some innocent people who were in no way concerned lost their lives. All the chiefs were implicated and | sent a messenger across the Black Water with the demand that they all come in and be tried. They quibbled about it and finally flatly refused to come. Because of the con-
dition of the strait at this time, I did not dare trust an expedition on it in heavy boats, so simply replied that when the next steamer


THE INTERIOR OF A MORO HOUSE
With the inhabitants playing their native musical instruments. In such houses as this Colonel Cloman was entertained by the dattos he visited





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A Trip Among My
Islands


A MORO HOUSE IN

THE SULU

ISLANDS
Similar to the one Colonel Cloman approached late one night, tying his boat up at the front door and rousing the occupants. When he had been received by the datto, he gave permission for the children, who had never seen a white man, to enter, and sat “‘like the tattooed man in a side show”’ while they gazed in wide eyed wonder
came in | would transport justice to them. A week or so later one of the Maritima steam- ers came in and | loaded fifty soldiers and a couple of machine guns on her, and went over to straighten matters out. When we went on shore, leaving the steamer under way in the swift water off the coral flat, there was not one living inhabitant of the village left on the island except a lame goat that came out of the jungle and met us at the water’s edge. | soon learned that upon receipt of my message the entire population had loaded all movable effects on their boats and departed for the Darvel Bay region of Borneo. The wild people there surrounded them and they were limited to a stockade on the beach. They were dreadfully homesick for the flesh pots of Sibutu, and a messenger was continually being sent over with pleas for forgiveness. My answer was always the same as my first— come back and be tried. They remained in Borneo until many months later I was re-
lieved by another officer, whom I had told about the case. After another series of messages with the same replies, they could stand their exile no longer, took a chance on the new man, and returned. They were then tried for their misdeeds, some severe punish- ments awarded and proper provision made for the usual widows and orphans.
On the way back to Bongao, | stopped at the island of Manuk-Manoa where there had recently been a strange affair. A large and diversified family had gone into the jungle to collect firewood and as each bundle of faggots was completed it was bound with bejuco vine and left in place while they went deeper into the jungle for more. In the mean- time another family had gone out for a similar purpose. When Family No. 1 returned to collect their bundles and carry them to the village, they found Family No. 2 had found and claimed as their own one of the bundles cut early in the morning. This caused a


110 Lieut.-Col. Sidney A. Cloman
violent altercation which finally developed into a fair-sized donnybrook with faggots for weapons. A scion of the first family, aged eleven, was caught in the midst of the mélée and unfortunately this precocious youth had one of the chopping knives used in the jungle. He was scared to death, so simply shut his eyes and lashed out at any one that ran into him. When the dust of conflict blew away, it was found out that his execution had been truly abnormal. No less than niné of the party, friend and foe, bore the marks of his knife, including a man with his arm almost slashed off at the shoulder, and his own mother with a gash across her back seven inches long. The culprit who was a wide-eyed, prepossess- ing youth was still scared to death about what his fate would be, but both families said that his fright alone was responsible, seemed to be very good friends and told their stories laugh- ingly as a joke on the boy. There seemed to be nothing to do but read one of my usual lectures to all hands, but | am afraid that | grinned while | was doing it.
After | had visited each of the southern islands, | returned to Bongao for the larger and more seaworthy prau and continued my
journey to the north. Here also one visit was very much like another with few ex- ceptions, but a comical incident took place at Latuen. As already stated, there is a dais at the end of the chief’s hall, and while it is large enough for several, the place of honor is at its head. In taking one’s place, it is the proper thing for the senior to leave room for one above him, on the modest fiction that somewhere in the world there might be one still greater who is liable to arrive at any moment. After entering the hall there, | hung up: my fake firearm as usual, and took this place. Several of the subordinate chiefs took their accustomed places below me, but my host with a conscious swagger and to my utter astonishment took the vacant place above me. Even at the risk of trouble this had to be corrected at once, which was done by taking him by the neck and hurling him into the crowd of chiefs below me. During this occurrence | succeeded in holding my placed visitor’s smile, and although greatly shamed before his people, he took it very well. This is the only time in the islands when I was not cheerfully accorded all and more than was my due. Sergeants Miller and Gibbons,




a 3

A MORO PRAU
[hese native boats are remarkably seaworthy and remarkably swift.
capsizing, for the boat itself is too narrow for safety.
[he outriggers are necessary to keep it from
In these boats Moros sail the seas from Borneo to Mindanao,
and formerly their piratical enterprises were carried out in boats similar to this one





Si wr
she Aad aE PE Rana ay SPER eae


A Trip Among My Islands 111





A MORO PRAU
Under full sail, before a Moro fishing village. Many towns such as this were visited by Colonel Cloman on the trip described in this article
who were with me, always spoke of this with a shudder. It seems they had a private plan in case of trouble to seize the knives of the natives next to them and wade in.
We stopped at the island of Secubun to see the ruins of the house of Tanton’s forefathers. They were the great pirate chiefs of their day, and they must have been rich and power- fulmen. Like the modern houses, it was built on piles over the water, and these piles were of such size as to puzzle one how they were ever up-ended and driven. Tanton could remember it as a boy, and his stories of the power of his father and the state in which he lived were most interesting. We then crossed to northern Tawi-Tawi for a visit to Dungun, the ancient and deserted capital of the sul- tanate of Sulu. | have never had a more wretched day. The many piles on which the houses once stood had caused the water to become stagnant, tropical vegetation has encroached, and the site is now a vast man- grove swamp on which we finally “landed.” The only means of progress toward real land was along the roots and twisted boughs which were now bare at low tide. They were covered with slime, with pools underneath, and a misstep or a slip in the deep gloom meant an immersion in the swamp. It seemed like an Old Peoples’ Home for snakes, and the sluggish pythons looked so much like the roots that one must be perpetually on the qui vive to keep from grasping them. Sev-
eral were killed on the way in. Worst of all, the mosquitoes fed upon us in clouds and battling with them while poised on the slip- pery mangrove roots was a super-feat of balancing. We finally reached a small rise of solid ground and there found all that was left of the glories of Dungun—a flight of marble steps slowly sinking into the swamp. On the top of the little hill is the grave of the first Sultan, the Arab who came to them over 300 years ago, converted them to Islam, and conquered all the islands to the north as far as Mindanao, and including a large part of Borneo. A yearly subsidy is still paid by Great Britain to the present Sultan for his rights there. The grave had a white canopy over it, and showed signs of having recently been visited. Datto Calbi, a great chief of Jolo, had made himself its guardian, but | judge that to be not a sinecure while the mos- quitoes exist. For the benefit of fortune hunters, | will add that the natives say that “buckets full” of wonderful pearls were buried with the Sultan, but if so, they are probably worthless by now. The sunlit sea never looked better to me than when we had worked our way out of the dreadful swamp and reached our boat.
The sail around the northern end of Tawi- Tawi was not to be forgotten. There is a line of small islands just off shore, extending for several miles, and the rushing tide has worn the channel between these and the large

112
island into.a perfect canal. The tide was with us and without sail or oars we were swept through this canal with railroad speed, trusting all to our native steersman. After several other visits, we stopped at deserted Tambagaan. These people, a few years be- fore, had revolted against one of Tanton’s edicts, and it has since been a lifeless island. Only a few cocoanut trees show that it has ever been inhabited. Tanton told with great gusto of this bloody campaign and it was here that his notable charm, or anting-anting, did some of its prettiest work.
When finally we started on our return journey down the northwest coast of Tawi- Tawi, | decided to stop at Tataan, once a Spanish garrison, but now deserted. When the Aguinaldo revolution of 1898 became desperate, the Spanish abandoned Bongao and concentrated both small garrisons at Tataan, and soon afterward it was the scene of a terribly tragedy. The troops were Fili- pinos with four Spanish officers in command. The soldiers were infected with the spirit of insurrection but, like the British in India, nothing could shake the confidence of the officers in their men until too late. Suddenly the storm broke, and the officers and a few loyal non-commissioned officers were hunted down and killed like rats, while the mutineers became frightened, seized some native boats and fled to Borneo, where they received no sympathy or assistance from the British and were limited to the beach by the fierce dyaks that surrounded them. When a small Span- ish gunboat followed them they found them- selves between two fires and were killed to a man. Several of the ruined buildings were still standing and my natives rehearsed the tragedy and pointed out where each of the officers had made his hopeless fight and met his fate. They seem to have been a brave and resourceful lot, and did their best to the last.
We camped that afternoon on a hill above Tataan, and there | saw an impressive specta- cle. Two huge waterspouts were visible at sea, and one of them was working toward
Lieut.-Col. Sidney A. Cloman
Tawi-Tawi. We all stood on the brow of the hill watching it moving slowly about, when suddenly it took up a straight line for us. It swerved about so that the only thing to do was to stand still and await develop- ments, and in any case we were more than a quarter of a mile from the beach. When it hit the beach below us, it seemed that the whole mass of millions of tons of water fell, the flood surging far up among the trees. There it paused a few seconds, and then re- solved itself into a cyclone that moved directly toward us, twisting the huge trees into matchwood. We stood there silent and appalled when one of our boatmen who was a sort of combined roustabout and medicine- man, hastily kicked off what few clothes he had on, seized a naked kriss and dashed down the hill to meet the storm. He yelled his pagan charms at the top of his lungs and kept slashing at the cyclone as if it were a living enemy. Before he reached it, it suddenly swerved about 45 degrees to the south and passed us by with a fiendish uproar at a dis- tance of a couple of hundred yards. When we looked for our boatman he was standing there bowing to us with a smirk like a prima donna after her solo, as if to say “This is really very easy when one knows how, but still | do it very well.” The tension was at an end, and we shouted with laughter. He was quite a hero with us for the remainder of the trip, but later | had to banish him for some diversified rascality.
And, as Pepys would have said, from thence on home. This trip forms one of my happi- est memories. Even the mosquitoes and snakes of Dungun have been obscured by time, and were counterbalanced by the won- derful days of sailing through these tropic islands, the comfortable nights on the beaches and the interesting series of towns visited. But more than all, the good companionship of our soldiers and native boatmen, their sense of humor and the merry way in which they met our numerous mishaps were un- important things that have become very important in my memory.
A third article by Colonel Cloman will appear in the Woripv’s Work for June