Life — June 2, 1910 — page 4: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

TEE Lifes Diary or ONDAY. To-day I made a list of some of the kind people who in- terrupt_ me: The old friend from out West who is. ing a leisure. ly visit. to New York and wants to bring his daughter in just to see what a nice little boy I am. The man who never knew that he had a talent for writing until all his friends told him that the little thing he dashed off one day quite by acci- dent is “just the thing for Live;"* The cultivated old party (re- tired from business) who wishes to introduce some reforms into his na- tive town, and thinks that a series of cartoons in Lire (with its “inimitable satire?) will be “just the thing.”” The gushing young girl from Texa: who is arranging for a career in liter. ture, and has been informed that Lire is the best place to make a start (she reads her own poems aloud). The literary agent with “English rights.” The star contributor (with my last number minutely blue penciled) who wants to know “if nothing can be done about the proofreading.”” The modest young lady artist, who has been working with Chase for six months, and wishes to have me tell her frankly about six pictures that she has been assured are “ better than anything I am printing.” The respected friend, who has it straight from his family physician that I am “all wrong about vivisection. (He suggests a visit to F. P.) The distinguished humorist, who has been alarmingly successful with every other magazine and periodical but Lire, and cannot understand why I send back all of his jokes. The lady journalist, who His some- thing that is “too good for the Sunday Worid,’’ but just the thing for Lire (and will I read it while she waits?) A messenger from the advertising de- partment, who requests me to remove all the text pages (including the centre page cartoon) from the next number, in order to make room for some “late ads."" A disinterested well-wisher, who thinks that my “ gibes at sacred things "” are all that mar an otherwise “delightful pa- per.” (He informs me that he is re- newing his subscription reluctantly.) Tuesday. It's a good thing that I have a happy disposition, for there are times when I feel like collapsing. My expenses are enormous! If it wasn't One Week for the duty I owe to my country—but I mustn't get sentimental. Paper ba gone up, and as for printing—well, I thought it was big when I was only sixteen pages—now I'm forty, fifty or sixty, and even cighty, and to set up every page in the best of type and have it printed! My! but it docs cost. I went up to see the new presses to-day. They fast—very fast—and_ print 4s many copies an hour as old ones. I thought when they were installed that this would give me time to go 1o press earlier, but it doesn’t seem to count, be- cause there is so much more of me to print. Then there are all the arists. Why, I spent four or five thousand dollars this week in pictures alone. I simply can’t resist them. (I've got some pic- tures on hand that I don't want to print, they are so good.) And my literary friends! They keep on de- manding more and more for their prod- ucts. There is only one way that I can save money. I must get rid of those editors and get the paper out myself. Wednesday. Up and at office early. Those editors must have heard or di- vined that I was contemplating getting rid of them all, for the moment I pre- sented myself they came forward in a body with a biography of themselves and begged me to accept it as a slight token of their devotion. Think of it! A bi ography of the staff of Lire. Here it is Composite Biography Of the Staff of Lire. This distinguished American was born in Boston, Chicago and parts of New England. He was graduated from Harv- ard, Yale and other unimportant’ ma- triculating places, including Columbia He lived in Paris, Yucatan and New Jersey. Later he became an architect, an artist, a sailor, a dramatic critic and a photo bear shooter. For a short time he le an improper life, but afterward returned to the bosom of his family, which in- cludes, among other things, a stuffed office cat named Minerva. Considering his surroundings and temptations his habits are fairly good. He arrives at his office at nine, ten, cleven or twelve, every day but Wednesday and Saturday, and leaves usually at one, two, three or four o'clock. He is very calm and pleas- ant as a rule, but when aroused will in- variably fight for his life to the death. He observes all of the national holidays except the Feast of the Passover and attends occasionally the opera, some se- lected dramatic performances, the base- R ball game, the race track and the go’ links. He has a fresh air farm for the sole purpose of entertaining some of h younger friends who are not booked for Harvard or Yale. He is absurdly mod est. I think, after all, I shall let them stay on a while. Thursday. Got to the office at day- light, determined, once and for all, to get things straightened out. I real cannot afford to be so busy. It argues a kind of unintelligence. Rather curious to be in office alone, in the dim light of carly dawn. The ghosts of old fancies thronged about me. Ideas that other editors have since seized, reproached me for allowing them to be appropriated by others, The Sane Fourth of July idea sat on the edge of my desk and argued about it. “ Didn't you originate me 1902?"" he said. “Of course you did! And now all the papers in the country have taken me up and tried to divid me among them !"" The Popular Birthday Idea was particularly chagrined. “Think,” he exclaimed, “of my being appropriated bodily by brother Bok, of the Ladies’ Home Journal, and without as much as by your leave “But, my dear fellow,"’ I replied gently, “what does it matter? You are one of my most popular——"* Look here!’ exclaimed my own Spe- cial Advertising Make-up, “it's all right for those fellows to complain. But think of me! I mean business, I do. When you first started me, I was the laughing stock of all the trade. And now all the other weeklies can’t make themselves up too much like me! "? I patted my advertising make-up af- fectionately on the back. “My dear child,” I said, “you are actually beginning to glow like a spark from an old anvil. Cheer up! Imita- tion is the sincerest flattery. Besides, ain't we all philanthrepists? Everybody knows I am getting out this paper just for the fun of the thing! Run along, now, and let me get to work."” (Continued on page 993) Rh “WHEN GREEK MEETS GREEK"? And ould All tt The ¢ seal sabser And the a Harbo Frid bed an comicbooks.com