Explosions of a powerful and resonant1 nature followed the publication of the fantastic, imaginative, and delightful2 mail-order catalogue editorial. In none of these senses, except the first, did it appeal to the advertising3 managers of the various department stores. They looked upon it as an outrage4, an affront5, a deliberate slap in the face for an established, vested, and prodigal6 support of the newspaper press. What the devil did The Patriot7 mean by it; The Patriot which sorely needed just their class of reputable patronage8, and, after sundry9 contortions10 of rate-cutting, truckling, and offers of news items to back the advertising, was beginning to get it? They asked themselves, and, failing of any satisfactory answer, they asked The Patriot in no uncertain terms. Receiving vague and pained replies, they even went to the length of holding a meeting and sending a committee to wait upon the desperate Haring, passing over the advertising manager who was a mere11 figurehead in The Patriot office.
Then began one of those scenes of bullying12 and browbeating13 to which every newspaper, not at once powerful and honest enough to command the fear and respect of its advertisers, is at some time subjected. Haring, the victim personifying the offending organ, was stretched upon the rack and put to the question. What explanation had he to offer of The Patriot's breach14 of faith?
He had none, had the miserable15 business manager. No one could regret it more than he. But, really, gentlemen, to call it a breach of faith--
What else was it? Wasn't the paper turning on its own advertisers?
Well; in a sense. But not--
But nothing! Wasn't it trying to undermine their legitimate16 business?
Not intentionally17, Mr. Haring was (piteously) sure.
Intentionally be damned! Did he expect to carry their advertising on one page and ruin their business on another? Did he think they were putting money into The Patriot--a doubtful medium for their business, at best--to cut their own throats? They'd put it to him reasonably, now; who, after all, paid for the getting out of The Patriot? Wasn't it the advertisers?
Certainly, certainly, gentlemen. Granted.
Could the paper run a month, a fortnight, a week without advertising?
No; no! It couldn't. No newspaper could.
Then if the advertisers paid the paper's way, weren't they entitled to some say about it? Didn't it have a right to give 'em at least a fair show?
Indeed, gentlemen, if he, Haring, were in control of the paper--
Then, why; why the _hell_ was a cub18 of an editor allowed to cut loose and jump their game that way? They could find other places to spend their money; yes, and get a better return for it. They'd see The Patriot, and so on, and so forth19.
Mr. Haring understood their feelings, sympathized, even shared them. Unfortunately the editorial page was quite out of his province.
Whose province was it, then? Mr. Banneker's, eh? And to whom was Mr. Banneker responsible? Mr. Marrineal, alone? All right! They would see Mr. Marrineal.
Mr. Haring was sorry, but Mr. Marrineal was out of town. (Fiction.)
Well, in that case, Banneker. They'd trust themselves to show him which foot he got off on. They'd teach (two of them, in their stress of emotion, said "learn"; they were performing this in chorus) Banneker--
Oh, Mr. Banneker wasn't there, either. (Haring, very terrified, and having built up an early conception of the Wild West Banneker from the clean-up of the dock gang, beheld20 in his imagination dejected members of the committee issuing piecemeal21 from the doors and windows of the editorial office, the process being followed by an even more regrettable exodus22 of advertising from the pages of The Patriot.)
Striving to be at once explanatory and propitiatory23 to all and sundry, Haring was reduced to inarticulate, choking interjections and paralytic24 motions of the hands, when a member of the delegation25, hitherto silent, spoke26 up.
He was the representative of McLean & Swazey, a college graduate of a type then new, though now much commoner, in the developing profession of advertising. He had read the peccant editorial with a genuine relish27 of its charm and skill, and had justly estimated it for what it was, an intellectual _jeu d'esprit_, the expression of a passing fancy for a tempting28 subject, not of a policy to be further pursued.
"Enough has been said, I think, to define our position," said he. "All that we need is some assurance that Mr. Banneker's wit and skill will not be turned again to the profit of our competitors who, by the way, do _not_ advertise in The Patriot."
Haring eagerly gave the assurance. He would have given assurance of Banneker's head on a salver to be rid of these persecuting29 autocrats30. They withdrew, leaving behind an atmosphere of threat and disaster, dark, inglorious clouds of which Haring trailed behind him when he entered the office of the owner with his countenance31 of woe32. His postulate33 was that Mr. Marrineal should go to his marplot editor and duly to him lay down the law; no more offending of the valuable department-store advertisers. No; nor of any others. Or he, Haring (greatly daring), would do it himself.
Beside the sweating and agonizing34 business manager, Marrineal looked very cool and tolerant and mildly amused.
"If you did that, Mr. Haring, do you appreciate what the result would be? We should have another editorial worse than the first, as soon as Mr. Banneker could think it out. No; you leave this to me. I'll manage it."
His management took the negative form of a profound silence upon the explicit35 point. But on the following morning Banneker found upon his desk a complete analytical36 table showing the advertising revenue of the paper by classes, with a star over the department-store list, indicating a dated withdrawal37 of twenty-two thousand dollars a year. The date was of that day. Thus was Banneker enabled to figure out, by a simple process, the loss to himself of any class of advertising, or even small group in a class, dropping out of the paper. It was clever of Marrineal, he admitted to himself, and, in a way, disappointing. His proffered38 gage39 of battle had been refused, almost ignored. The issue was not to be joined when he was ready, but when Marrineal was ready, and on Marrineal's own ground. Very well, Banneker could be a good waiter. Meantime he had at least asserted his independence.
Io called him up by 'phone, avid40 of news of the editorial, and he was permitted to take her to luncheon41 and tell her all about it. In her opinion he had won a victory; established a position. Banneker was far less sanguine42; he had come to entertain a considerable respect for Marrineal's capacity. And he had another and more immediate43 complication on his mind, which fact his companion, by some occult exercise of divination44, perceived.
"What else is worrying you, Ban?" she asked.
Banneker did not want to talk about that. He wanted to talk about Io, about themselves. He said so. She shook her head.
"Tell me about the paper."
"Oh, just the usual complications. There's nothing to interest you in them."
"Everything," she maintained ardently45.
Banneker caught his breath. Had she given him her lips, it could hardly have meant more--perhaps not meant so much as this tranquil46 assumption of her right to share in the major concerns of his life.
"If you've been reading the paper," he began, and waited for her silent nod before going on, "you know our attitude toward organized labor47."
"Yes. You are for it when it is right and not always against it when it is wrong."
"One can't split hairs in a matter of editorial policy. I've made The Patriot practically the mouthpiece of labor in this city; much more so than the official organ, which has no influence and a small following. Just now I'm specially48 anxious to hold them in line for the mayoralty campaign. We've got to elect Robert Laird. Otherwise we'll have such an orgy of graft49 and rottenness as the city has never seen."
"Isn't the labor element for Laird?"
"It isn't against him, except that he is naturally regarded as a silk-stocking. The difficulty isn't politics. There's some new influence in local labor circles that is working against me; against The Patriot. I think it's a fellow named McClintick, a new man from the West."
"Perhaps he wants to be bought off."
"You're thinking of the old style of labor leader," returned Banneker. "It isn't as simple as that. No; from what I hear, he's a fanatic50. And he has great influence."
"Get hold of him and talk it out with him," advised Io.
"I intend to." He brooded for a moment. "There isn't a man in New York," he said fretfully, "that has stood for the interests of the masses and against the power of money as I have. Why, Io, before we cut loose in The Patriot, a banker or a railroad president was sacrosanct51. His words were received with awe52. Wall Street was the holy of holies, not to be profaned53 by the slightest hint of impiety54. Well, we've changed all that! Not I, alone. Our cartoons have done more than the editorials. Every other paper in town has had to follow our lead. Even The Ledger55."
"I like The Ledger," declared Io.
"Why?"
"I don't know. It has a sort of dignity; the dignity of self-respect."
"Hasn't The Patriot?" demanded the jealous Banneker.
"Not a bit," she answered frankly56, "except for your editorials. They have the dignity of good workmanship, and honesty, and courage, even when you're wrong."
"Are we so often wrong, Io?" he said wistfully.
"Dear boy, you can't expect a girl, brought up as I have been, to believe that society is upside down, and would be better if it were tipped over the other way and run by a lot of hod-carriers and ditch-diggers and cooks. Can you, now?"
"Of course not. Nor is that what I advocate. I'm for the under dog. For fair play. So are you, aren't you? I saw your name on the Committee List of the Consumers' League, dealing57 with conditions in the department stores."
"That's different," she said. "Those girls haven't a chance in some of the shops. They're brutalized. The stores don't even pretend to obey the laws. We are trying to work out some sort of organization, now, for them."
"Yet you're hostile to organized labor! Who shall ever understand the feminine mind! Some day you'll be coming to us for help."
"Very likely. It must be a curious sensation, Ban, to have the consciousness of the power that you wield58, and to be responsible to nobody on earth."
"To the public that reads us," he corrected.
"Not a real responsibility. There is no authority over you; no appeal from your judgments59. Hasn't that something to do with people's dislike and distrust of the newspapers; the sense that so much irresponsible power is wrong?"
"Yet," he said, "any kind of censorship is worse than the evil it remedies. I've never shown you my creed60, have I?"
His manner was half jocular; there was a smile on his lips, but his eyes seemed to look beyond the petty troubles and problems of his craft to a final and firm verity61.
"Tell me," she bade him.
He drew his watch out and opened the back. For a moment she thought, with confused emotions, that she would see there a picture of herself of which he might have possessed62 himself somewhere. She closed her eyes momentarily against the fear of that anti-climax. When she opened them, it was to read, in a clear, fine print those high and sure words of Milton's noblest message:
And though all the winds of doctrine63 were let loose to play upon the earth, so truth be in the field, we do injuriously, by licensing64 and prohibiting, to misdoubt her strength. Let her and falsehood grapple; who ever knew truth put to the worse, in a free and open encounter? Her confuting is the best and surest suppressing.
Twice she read the pregnant message.
"I have it," said she gravely. "To keep--for always."
"Some day I'll put it at the head of The Patriot."
"Why not now?"
"Not ready. I want to be surer; absolutely sure."
"I'm sure," she declared superbly; "of you."
"You make me sure of myself, Io. But there's Marrineal."
"Yes; there's Marrineal. You must have a paper of your own, mustn't you, Ban, eventually?"
"Perhaps. If I ever get enough money to own it absolutely."
"Only four years ago," she murmured, with apparent irrelevancy65. "And now--"
"When shall I see you again?" he asked anxiously as she rose. "Are you coming Saturday night?"
"Of course," said Io.
Through the agency of Russell Edmonds, McClintick, the labor leader, came to see Banneker. He was a stooping giant with a deep, melancholy66 voice, and his attitude toward The Patriot was one of distrustful reticence67. Genuine ardor68 has, however, a warming influence. McClintick's silence melted by degrees, not into confidence but, surprisingly, into indignation, directed upon all the "capitalistic press" in general, but in particular against The Patriot. Why single out The Patriot, specially, Banneker asked.
"Hypocrite," muttered the giant.
At length the reason came out, under pressure: The Patriot had been (in the words of the labor man) making a big row over the arrest of certain labor organizers, in one of the recurrent outbreaks against the Steel Trust, opposed by that organization's systematic69 and tyrannous method of oppression. So far, so good. But why hadn't the paper said a word about the murder of strikers' wives and children out at the Veridian Lumber70 Company's mills in Oregon; an outrage far surpassing anything ever laid to the account of the Steel Trust? Simple reason, answered Banneker; there had been no news of it over the wires. No; of course there hadn't. The Amalgamated71 Wire Association (another tool of capitalism) had suppressed it; wouldn't let any strike stuff get on the wires that it could keep off. Then how, asked Banneker, could it be expected--? McClintick interrupted in his voice of controlled passion; had Mr. Banneker ever heard of the Chicago Transcript72 (naming the leading morning paper); had he ever read it? Well, The Transcript--which, he, McClintick, hated strongly as an organ of money--nevertheless did honestly gather and publish news, as he was constrained73 huskily to admit. It had the Veridian story; was still running it from time to time. Therefore, if Mr. Banneker was interested, on behalf of The Patriot--
Certainly, The Patriot was interested; would obtain and publish the story in full, if it was as Mr. McClintick represented, with due editorial comment.
"Will it?" grumbled74 McClintick, gave his hat a look of mingled75 hope and skepticism, put it on, and went away.
"Now, what's wrong with that chap's mental digestion76?" Banneker inquired of Edmonds, who had sat quiet throughout the interview. "What is he holding back?"
"Plenty," returned the veteran in a tone which might have served for echo of the labor man's gloom.
"Do you know the Veridian story?"
"Yes. I've just checked it up."
"What's the milk in that cocoanut?"
"Sour!" said Edmonds with such energy that Banneker turned to look at him direct. "The principal owner of Veridian is named Marrineal.... Where you going, Ban?"
"To see the principal owner of the name," said Banneker grimly.
The quest took him to the big house on upper Fifth Avenue. Marrineal heard his editorial writer with impassive face.
"So the story has got here," he remarked.
"Yes. Do you own Veridian?"
"No."
Hope rose within Banneker. "You don't?"
"My mother does. She's in Europe. A rather innocent old person. The innocence77 of age, perhaps. Quite old." All of this in a perfectly78 tranquil voice.
"Have you seen The Chicago Transcript? It's an ugly story."
"Very. I've sent a man out to the camp. There won't be any more shootings."
"It comes rather late. I've told McClintick, the labor man who comes from Wyoming, that we'll carry the story, if we verify it."
Marrineal raised his eyes slowly to Banneker's stern face. "Have you?" he said coolly. "Now, as to the mayoralty campaign; what do you think of running a page feature of Laird's reforms, as President of the Board, tracing each one down to its effect and showing what any backward step would mean? By the way, Laird is going to be pretty heavily obligated to The Patriot if he's elected."
For half an hour they talked politics, nothing else.
At the office Edmonds was making a dossier of the Veridian reports. It was ready when Banneker returned.
"Let it wait," said Banneker.
Prudence79 ordained80 that he should throw the troublous stuff into the waste-basket. He wondered if he was becoming prudent81, as another man might wonder whether he was becoming old. At any rate, he would make no decision until he had talked it over with Io. Not only did he feel instinctive82 confidence in her sense of fair play; but also this relationship of interest in his affairs, established by her, was the opportunity of his closest approach; an intimacy83 of spirit assured and subtle. He hoped that she would come early on Saturday evening.
But she did not. Some dinner party had claimed her, and it was after eleven when she arrived with Archie Densmore. At once Banneker took her aside and laid before her the whole matter.
"Poor Ban!" she said softly. "It isn't so simple, having power to play with, is it?"
"But how am I to handle this?"
"The mills belong to Mr. Marrineal's mother, you said?"
"Practically they do."
"And she is--?"
"A silly and vain old fool."
"Is that his opinion of her?"
"Necessarily. But he's fond of her."
"Will he really try to remedy conditions, do you think?"
"Oh, yes. So far as that goes."
"Then I'd drop it."
"Print nothing at all?"
"Not a word."
"That isn't what I expected from you. Why do you advise it?"
"The paralytic virtue," said Banneker with such bitterness of conviction that Io answered:
"I suppose you don't mean that to be simply clever."
"It's true, isn't it?"
"There's a measure of truth in it. But, Ban, you can't use Mr. Marrineal's own paper to expose conditions in Mr. Marrineal's mother's mills. If he'd even directed you to hold off--"
"That's his infernal cleverness. I'd have told him to go to the devil."
"And resigned?"
"Of course."
"You can resign now," she pointed85 out. "But I think you'd be foolish. You can do such big things. You _are_ doing such big things with The Patriot. Cousin Billy Enderby says that if Laird is elected it will be your doing. Where else could you find such opportunity?"
"Tell me this, Io," he said, after a moment of heavy-browed brooding very unlike his usual blithe86 certainty of bearing. "Suppose that lumber property were my own, and this thing had broken out."
"Oh, I'd say to print it, every word," she answered promptly87. "Or"--she spoke very slowly and with a tremor88 of color flickering89 in her cheeks--"if it were mine, I'd tell you to print it."
He looked up with a transfigured face. His hand fell on hers, in the covert90 of the little shelter of plants behind which they sat. "Do you realize what that implies?" he questioned.
"Perfectly," she answered in her clear undertone.
He bent91 over to her hand, which turned, soft palm up, to meet his lips. She whispered a warning and he raised his head quickly. Ely Ives had passed near by.
"Marrineal's familiar," said Banneker. "I wonder how he got here. Certainly I didn't ask him.... Very well, Io. I'll compromise. But ... I don't think I'll put that quotation92 from the Areopagitica at the head of my column. That will have to wait. Perhaps it will have to wait until I--we get a paper of our own."
"Poor Ban!" whispered Io.
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resonant
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| adj.(声音)洪亮的，共鸣的 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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advertising
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| n.广告业；广告活动 a.广告的；广告业务的 | |
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outrage
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| n.暴行，侮辱，愤怒；vt.凌辱，激怒 | |
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affront
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| n./v.侮辱，触怒 | |
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prodigal
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| adj.浪费的，挥霍的，放荡的 | |
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patriot
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| n.爱国者，爱国主义者 | |
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patronage
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| n.赞助，支援，援助；光顾，捧场 | |
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sundry
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| adj.各式各样的，种种的 | |
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contortions
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| n.扭歪，弯曲；扭曲，弄歪，歪曲( contortion的名词复数 ) | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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bullying
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| v.恐吓，威逼( bully的现在分词 )；豪；跋扈 | |
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browbeating
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| v.（以言辞或表情）威逼，恫吓( browbeat的现在分词 ) | |
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breach
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| n.违反，不履行；破裂；vt.冲破，攻破 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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legitimate
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| adj.合法的，合理的，合乎逻辑的；v.使合法 | |
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intentionally
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| ad.故意地，有意地 | |
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cub
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| n.幼兽，年轻无经验的人 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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piecemeal
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| adj.零碎的；n.片，块；adv.逐渐地；v.弄成碎块 | |
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exodus
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| v.大批离去，成群外出 | |
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propitiatory
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| adj.劝解的；抚慰的；谋求好感的；哄人息怒的 | |
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paralytic
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| adj. 瘫痪的 n. 瘫痪病人 | |
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delegation
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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tempting
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| a.诱人的, 吸引人的 | |
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persecuting
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| （尤指宗教或政治信仰的）迫害(~sb. for sth.)( persecute的现在分词 )； 烦扰，困扰或骚扰某人 | |
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autocrats
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| n.独裁统治者( autocrat的名词复数 )；独断专行的人 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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woe
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| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
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postulate
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| n.假定，基本条件；vt.要求，假定 | |
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agonizing
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| adj.痛苦难忍的；使人苦恼的v.使极度痛苦；折磨(agonize的ing形式) | |
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explicit
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| adj.详述的，明确的；坦率的；显然的 | |
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analytical
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| adj.分析的；用分析法的 | |
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withdrawal
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| n.取回，提款；撤退，撤军；收回，撤销 | |
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proffered
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| v.提供，贡献，提出( proffer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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gage
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| n.标准尺寸，规格；量规，量表 [=gauge] | |
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avid
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| adj.热心的；贪婪的；渴望的；劲头十足的 | |
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luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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sanguine
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| adj.充满希望的，乐观的，血红色的 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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divination
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| n.占卜，预测 | |
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ardently
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| adv.热心地，热烈地 | |
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tranquil
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| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
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labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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specially
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| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
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graft
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| n.移植，嫁接，艰苦工作，贪污；v.移植，嫁接 | |
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fanatic
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| n.狂热者，入迷者；adj.狂热入迷的 | |
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sacrosanct
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| adj.神圣不可侵犯的 | |
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awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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profaned
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| v.不敬( profane的过去式和过去分词 )；亵渎，玷污 | |
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impiety
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| n.不敬；不孝 | |
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ledger
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| n.总帐，分类帐；帐簿 | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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wield
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| vt.行使，运用，支配；挥，使用(武器等) | |
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judgments
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| 判断( judgment的名词复数 )； 鉴定； 评价； 审判 | |
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creed
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| n.信条；信念，纲领 | |
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verity
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| n.真实性 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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doctrine
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| n.教义；主义；学说 | |
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licensing
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| v.批准，许可，颁发执照( license的现在分词 ) | |
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irrelevancy
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| n.不恰当，离题，不相干的事物 | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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reticence
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| n.沉默，含蓄 | |
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ardor
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| n.热情，狂热 | |
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systematic
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| adj.有系统的，有计划的，有方法的 | |
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lumber
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| n.木材，木料；v.以破旧东西堆满；伐木；笨重移动 | |
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amalgamated
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| v.（使）（金属）汞齐化( amalgamate的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）合并；联合；结合 | |
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transcript
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| n.抄本，誊本，副本，肄业证书 | |
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constrained
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| adj.束缚的,节制的 | |
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grumbled
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| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
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mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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digestion
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| n.消化，吸收 | |
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innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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prudence
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| n.谨慎，精明，节俭 | |
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ordained
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| v.任命（某人）为牧师( ordain的过去式和过去分词 )；授予（某人）圣职；（上帝、法律等）命令；判定 | |
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prudent
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| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
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instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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loyalty
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| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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blithe
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| adj.快乐的，无忧无虑的 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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covert
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| adj.隐藏的；暗地里的 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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quotation
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| n.引文，引语，语录；报价，牌价，行情 | |
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