第 3 节
作者:
月寒 更新:2024-04-14 09:15 字数:9321
had for himself。 His great gift of eyesight and observation failed him in his
judgments upon his friends。 If only you loved him; you could get your
biggest failures of conduct somewhat more than forgiven; without any
trouble at all。 And of your mole…hill virtues he made splendid mountains。
He only interfered with you when he was afraid that you were going to
hurt some one else whom he also loved。 Once I had a telegram from him
which urged me for heaven's sake not to forget that the next day was my
wife's birthday。 Whether I had forgotten it or not is my own private affair。
And when I declared that I had read a story which I liked very; very much
and was going to write to the author to tell him so; he always kept at me
till the letter was written。
Have I said that he had no habits? Every day; when he was away from
her; he wrote a letter to his mother; and no swift scrawl at that; for; no
matter how crowded and eventful the day; he wrote her the best letter that
he could write。 That was the only habit he had。 He was a slave to it。
Once I saw R。 H。 D。 greet his old mother after an absence。 They threw
their arms about each other and rocked to and fro for a long time。 And it
hadn't been a long absence at that。 No ocean had been between them; her
heart had not been in her mouth with the thought that he was under fire; or
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about to become a victim of jungle fever。 He had only been away upon a
little expedition; a mere matter of digging for buried treasure。 We had
found the treasure; part of it a chipmunk's skull and a broken arrow…head;
and R。 H。 D。 had been absent from his mother for nearly two hours and a
half。
I set about this article with the knowledge that I must fail to give more
than a few hints of what he was like。 There isn't much more space at my
command; and there were so many sides to him that to touch upon them
all would fill a volume。 There were the patriotism and the Americanism; as
much a part of him as the marrow of his bones; and from which sprang all
those brilliant headlong letters to the newspapers; those trenchant assaults
upon evil…doers in public office; those quixotic efforts to redress wrongs;
and those simple and dexterous exposures of this and that; from an
absolutely unexpected point of view。 He was a quickener of the public
conscience。 That people are beginning to think tolerantly of preparedness;
that a nation which at one time looked yellow as a dandelion is beginning
to turn Red; White; and Blue is owing in some measure to him。
R。 H。 D。 thought that war was unspeakably terrible。 He thought that
peace at the price which our country has been forced to pay for it was
infinitely worse。 And he was one of those who have gradually taught this
country to see the matter in the same way。
I must come to a close now; and I have hardly scratched the surface of
my subject。 And that is a failure which I feel keenly but which was
inevitable。 As R。 H。 D。 himself used to say of those deplorable 〃personal
interviews〃 which appear in the newspapers; and in which the important
person interviewed is made by the cub reporter to say things which he
never said; or thought; or dreamed of〃You can't expect a fifteen… dollar…
a…week brain to describe a thousand…dollar…a…week brain。〃
There is; however; one question which I should attempt to answer。 No
two men are alike。 In what one salient thing did R。 H。 D。 differ from other
mendiffer in his personal character and in the character of his work? And
that question I can answer offhand; without taking thought; and be sure
that I am right。
An analysis of his works; a study of that book which the Recording
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Angel keeps will show one dominant characteristic to which even his
brilliancy; his clarity of style; his excellent mechanism as a writer are
subordinate; and to which; as a man; even his sense of duty; his powers of
affection; of forgiveness; of loving…kindness are subordinate; too; and that
characteristic is cleanliness。
The biggest force for cleanliness that was in the world has gone out of
the worldgone to that Happy Hunting Ground where 〃Nobody hunts us
and there is nothing to hunt。〃
GOUVERNEUR MORRIS。
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THE RED CROSS GIRL
CHAPTER 1 THE RED CROSS
GIRL
When Spencer Flagg laid the foundation…stone for the new million…
dollar wing he was adding to the Flagg Home for Convalescents; on the
hills above Greenwich; the New York REPUBLIC sent Sam Ward to cover
the story; and with him Redding to take photographs。 It was a crisp;
beautiful day in October; full of sunshine and the joy of living; and from
the great lawn in front of the Home you could see half over Connecticut
and across the waters of the Sound to Oyster Bay。
Upon Sam Ward; however; the beauties of Nature were wasted。 When;
the night previous; he had been given the assignment he had sulked; and
he was still sulking。 Only a year before he had graduated into New York
from a small up…state college and a small up…state newspaper; but already
he was a 〃star〃 man; and Hewitt; the city editor; humored him。
〃What's the matter with the story?〃 asked the city editor。 〃With the
speeches and lists of names it ought to run to two columns。〃
〃Suppose it does!〃 exclaimed Ward; 〃anybody can collect type…written
speeches and lists of names。 That's a messenger boy's job。 Where's there
any heart…interest in a Wall Street broker like Flagg waving a silver trowel
and singing; 'See what a good boy am!' and a lot of grownup men in
pinafores saying; 'This stone is well and truly laid。' Where's the story in
that?〃
〃When I was a reporter;〃 declared the city editor; 〃I used to be glad to
get a day in the country。〃
〃Because you'd never lived in the country;〃 returned Sam。 〃If you'd
wasted twenty…six years in the backwoods; as I did; you'd know that every
minute you spend outside of New York you're robbing yourself。〃
〃Of what?〃 demanded the city editor。 〃There's nothing to New York
except cement; iron girders; noise; and zinc garbage cans。 You never see
the sun in New York; you never see the moon unless you stand in the
middle of the street and bend backward。 We never see flowers in New
York except on the women's hats。 We never see the women except in cages
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in the elevatorsthey spend their lives shooting up and down elevator
shafts in department stores; in apartment houses; in office buildings。 And
we never see children in New York because the janitors won't let the
women who live in elevators have children! Don't talk to me! New York's
a Little Nemo nightmare。 It's a joke。 It's an insult!〃
〃How curious!〃 said Sam。 〃Now I see why they took you off the street
and made you a city editor。 I don't agree with anything you say。 Especially
are you wrong about the women。 They ought to be caged in elevators; but
they're not。 Instead; they flash past you in the street; they shine upon you
from boxes in the theatre; they frown at you from the tops of buses; they
smile at you from the cushions of a taxi; across restaurant tables under red
candle shades; when you offer them a seat in the subway。 They are the
only thing in New York that gives me any trouble。〃
The city editor sighed。 〃How young you are!〃 he exclaimed。 〃However;
to…morrow you will be free from your only trouble。 There will be few
women at the celebration; and they will be interested only in
convalescentsand you do not look like a convalescent。〃
Sam Ward sat at the outer edge of the crowd of overdressed females
and overfed men; and; with a sardonic smile; listened to Flagg telling his
assembled friends and sycophants how glad he was they were there to see
him give away a million dollars。