Alphonso Miner Griswold was born near Utica, Oneida county, New York,
January 26, 1834. His youth was spent in the usual way, and in 1856
he graduated at Hamilton college, with more or less honor. It was not
until November, 1857, that “Gris” entered the journalistic world by
accepting a position as reporter on the Buffalo Daily Times, then owned
and edited by the late Henry W. Faxen. When the Times was merged into
the Republic, Griswold transferred his talents to the latter sheet.
In May, 1858, Griswold began writing under the _nom de plume_ of “The
Fat Contributor.” His humor was racy and original, and he was classed
among the leading fun makers of the day. He went to Detroit in the
autumn of 1858, and accepted a position on the Advertiser. A year later
he removed his talents to Cleveland, where he labored in the office
of the Plain Dealer, published by Hon. W. W. Armstrong. He succeeded
Artemus Ward as assistant editor, and during the early part of the war
he wrote many patriotic and ringing editorials. After a brief season on
the Cleveland Leader, “Gris” removed to Cincinnati, and in 1863 became
a member of the staff of the Evening Times, which position he continued
to hold for nearly ten years.
In the latter part of 1872, in company with others, he began the
publication of the Cincinnati Saturday Night, a journal which now
enjoys a prosperous existence. He became the sole proprietor of the
paper in 1874, and was for some years assisted in his labors by his
wife, a lady of numerous scholarly attainments.
Griswold resides in a quiet, out-of-the-way street, just off the
busy thoroughfares of the Queen City of the West, and lives in a
retired, happy manner. During later years he has occasionally made a
lecture tour, delivering his famous lecture, Injun Meal, and others to
delighted audiences.
Artemus Ward and Griswold were the best of friends, and the “Fat
Contributor” tells many anecdotes of his experience in the world
alongside of Browne. Speaking of Artemus Ward, in a humorous way,
Griswold once said in a humorous article:
“When, in 1863, Ward conceived the idea of making a lecture tour
through California--a great undertaking in those days--he offered
me, to accompany him as agent, a salary that would cause the
insignificant pay of a Cleveland local to blush with shame. Not
knowing that lecturers, and especially humorists, have a way of
engaging every man as agent who professes a desire to travel, I made
all preparations to go, resigned my situation, and anxiously awaited
my summons.
As I waited, various articles were sold to pay expenses. I ate my
stove I remember, and I think I drank up my bureau. At length, when
nearly everything had gone, I believe that Ward had gone, too, taking
another agent. I was naturally incensed, and resolved that there would
be a severe settlement when next we met. I rehearsed the anticipated
scene frequently, and resolved how I would go to work and annihilate
him.
“Our meeting was in New York in July, 1864. I had heard of his return
from California, and prepared to empty the vials of wrath upon
his head. We accidentally ran against each other on Broadway. My
slumbering indignation flamed up at once. I thought of the cooking
stove I had devoured, and the various articles of household furniture
I drank up, and was about to go for him when Ward suddenly rushed
forward, and, grasping me warmly by the hand, exclaimed:
“‘Why, Gris., old boy, how are you? _When did you get back from
California?_’
“As I looked at him, speechless with amazement, he continued: ‘They
told me you came home around the “horn,” but I never knew you to go
around a horn yet--join me!’
“Now Ward had a very persuasive way of locking his arm in with
another’s, and in a momentary fit of weakness, I went along.
“‘Ward!’ said I sternly, ‘I owe you a licking on account of the
California agency business, but will put it off until we drink.’
“‘Put it off as long as you want to,’ replied Ward, in a tone of
generous accommodation, as though I was speaking about returning him a
loan. ‘If you owe me a licking, pay me when you get ready. I am in no
hurry. Don’t care if you never pay it.’
“Numerous were the unavailing efforts that I made to bring Ward
to a settlement. When I would commence: ‘Now, Artemus, how about
that California business?’ he would interrupt--‘Oh, never mind
that whipping. No hurry at all. Send it to me through the mail--or
telegraph it. Let’s drink.’
“I have got even with Browne, however, in a measure--I have _engaged_
a number of agents myself.”