“But my walking papers came in due time, and I went to the ‘Chronicle.’
It almost took my breath away when they offered me twenty dollars a
week. Before I was discharged from there, I had risen to a higher
salary. I went to Chicago, and got on the Chicago ‘Herald,’ at
thirty-five dollars a week. I was there during the World’s Fair. It
seemed to me the principal thing I did was to draw horses. But the
greatest blow of all was when the Chicago ‘Herald’ discharged me. It
seemed as if everything were slipping from beneath my feet. I went back
to San Francisco and got on the ‘Chronicle’ again. It was then, and
not till then,—1894,—that I was allowed any freedom. All that I had
been asking an outlet for found vent, and my cartoons began to attract
attention.
“William R. Hearst, of the ‘Examiner,’ asked, in one of his editorial
rooms: ‘Who is that Davenport, on the ”Chronicle,“ who is doing us up
all the time?’
“‘Oh, we bounced him; he’s no good,’ was the reply.
“‘Send for him!’ said Mr. Hearst.
“No attention was paid to the order. Mr. Hearst finally sent for me
himself. I was engaged at forty-five dollars a week. Then a thing
happened that I will never forget, for no raise before or since ever
affected me to such a degree.
“I drew a cartoon of Senator ‘Steve’ White and his whiskers. The
whiskers so pleased Mr. Hearst, that he called me in and said that my
pay would be raised five dollars a week. I went home that night, and
woke up my wife to tell her the glad news. She fairly wept for joy, and
tears trickled down my own cheeks, for that increase meant appreciation
that I had been starving for, and I felt almost secure,—and all on
account of Senator ‘Steve’ White’s whiskers.”
Here Mrs. Davenport, who had brought us two large books, in which she
had fondly pasted all of her husband’s work, said:—
“Yes, no subsequent increase, no matter how large, has ever equaled
that five-dollar advance.”