I dined with the G.‘s to meet Mr. Hearst. I have heard almost more
about him than anyone in America, and I was curious to see him. Great
was my disappointment when I was told that Hearst was not there. He had
been called away suddenly to Boston.
Mrs. Hearst came, and I sat next to Mr. Brisbane. I did not feel he was
amiably disposed towards me at first, but I was careful not to discuss
Anglo-American relations or the Irish question, and when I told him I
was contemplating educating my children over here Mr. Brisbane melted
a little. We talked about the absent Hearst, whom I realize is a great
storm centre in this country. I must meet him before my curiosity
can be allayed. I want to get my own impression of him. Russia has
taught me that individuals are not as the world says they are. Mrs.
Hearst, who is very pretty, was treated like a queen. Men sat on the
floor at her feet, admiringly, and social reformers sat at her elbow
beseechingly, and she smiled and assented, and listened and promised,
and did all that a perfectly good queen should do, and like a perfectly
real queen, jewel crowned, she arose and left before anyone else. But
not without my telephone number and address. Mr. Brisbane eventually
dropped me home in his car, he too promised, in the name of the queen,
that I should meet Hearst, and maybe--who knows? Meanwhile the mystery
of Hearst is still unsolved for me, but I see that I shall now have to
add to my daily’s the NEW YORK AMERICAN because of Brisbane. Already
I read the HERALD on account of Frank Munsey, THE WORLD because of
Herbert Swope, and the TIMES because of--well, because it originally
god-fathered me! As well as the NATION, THE NEW REPUBLIC, the FREEMAN,
LIBERATOR, and SOVIET RUSSIA, most of whom have given me “Luncheons”;
also ARTS AND DECORATIONS, whose co-editor once told me in unmeasured
terms exactly what he thought of me for attaching undue importance to
the Soviet leaders by having the effrontery to go and portray them!
Thus, as my knowledge increases, my working time decreases!