The newspapers did nobly. Too many prominent names were involved for
them not to print the news. There was an opportunity for using real
humor and impressive statistics in describing the new labor-saving
machinery. The marvelous efficiency of H. R. as a practical
philanthropist, demonstrated by his elimination of people who had money
with which to buy food, and the simple but amazing efficacy of his
Thirst-Detector raised the story to the realm of pure literature.
There was also a serious aspect to the entire affair. All the hungry
men, women, and children in Greater New York that had no money had been
fed. Assuming, as was probable, that most of the hungry were not
bona-fide residents of New York, it showed that in the metropolis of the
Western World less than one-thousandth of the total population were
hungry and penniless. No other city in the world could boast of such
statistics.
But H. R.'s work was not done. Before he retired for the night, knowing
that his position in society and in the world of affairs was established
on an adamant base, he nevertheless composed thirty-eight communications
for the Public Sentiment Corps to send out the next day to the
newspapers. A sample will suffice:
It has been clearly proven that New York is a great big city
with a great big heart. As always, it responded generously
to the call of Charity. The Hunger Feast at Madison Square
Garden was an extraordinary bit of municipal psychology and
an illuminating object-lesson. Why not make permanent a
state of mind of the public which does so much to dispel the
danger of a bloody revolution? Social unrest can be cured by
only one thing: Charity! Man does not need justice. He needs
the good-will of other men. The newspapers have it in their
power to check the hysterical and un-American clamor against
individual fortunes. They can throw open their columns!
Treat Charity as if it were as important as baseball or at
least billiards. Carry a regular Department of Charity every
day. Give your readers a chance to be kind. It will be a
novelty to many, but it will help all--the giver no less
than the beneficiary. If you will agree, Mr. Editor, I'll
send check.
Other specimens emphasized the non-sectarian phase of such charities as
that conceived and carried to success by one of the most remarkable men
in a city where the best brains of the country admittedly resided.
Intelligent charity, wisely discriminating, truly helpful, had been
placed for all time among the possibilities. Systematized charities were
delusions, chimeras, thin air. There was a demand for the opportunity to
be decent and kind. Let the newspapers supply it. "If your readers want
lurid accounts of murder trials and divorce cases, let them have them.
If they want expert advice on how to help their fellow-men give it to
them, also. It remains to be seen whether there is one newspaper in New
York that knows real news when it sees it!"
There were thirty-eight epistolary models in all.
In the afternoon of the day following the Mammoth Hunger Feast H. R.
called at the Goodchild house.
"Frederick, tell Miss Grace--"
"She 'as _gone_, sir!" said Frederick, tragically.
"Did she leave word when she would return?"
"She 'as _gone_, sir!" persisted Frederick, in abysmal distress at the
news and at his inability to convey it in letters of molten meteors. He
added, "To Philadelphia."
It sounded to him like Singapore. He did not think there was much
difference, anyhow.
"Philadelphia?" echoed H. R., blankly.
"Yes, sir!" said Frederick, with sad triumph.
"Whatever in the world can she--" H. R. caught himself in time. He
nearly had reduced himself to the level of humanity--well called dead
level--by confessing ignorance aloud.
"Mrs. Goodchild is at 'ome, sir!" suggested Frederick, ingratiatingly.
"Damned good place for her!" muttered H. R., savagely, and gave
Frederick a five-dollar gold piece. In some respects, Frederick
admitted, America was ahead of the old country.
H. R. walked away frowning fiercely. He went nearly a block before he
smiled. Love always interferes with the chemistry of the stomach and
hits the brain through the toxins. What an ass he was not to have
realized the truth on the instant:
_Grace had run away from him!_
He returned to his office and told Andrew Barrett to set the Public
Sentiment Corps at work on the thirty-eight models he had prepared. Then
he wrote forty-two more. The consciousness of Grace's confessed weakness
gave him an eloquence he himself had never before known. They were
masterpieces.
The newspapers always know they have made a bull's-eye when they get
letters from their readers. It is an obvious fact that a man who writes
is a steady customer--at least, until his communication is printed.
The Public Sentiment Corps merely started the ball rolling. An avalanche
of letters from all sorts and conditions of men, women, and merchants
descended upon the editorial offices.
It became clear, even to the newspapers, that people in New York were
willing to give, but they didn't know how. The papers, therefore,
announced that they would thereafter run Charity as a regular
department. It would be strictly non-sectarian. The world's greatest
authorities and most eminent philanthropists had been asked to
contribute--not money; articles. The _World_ printed a full-page
biography of St. Vincent de Paul and satanically invited some of its pet
aversions to send in their autobiographies.
All the papers informed the charitable men and women of New York that
checks, clothing, supplies, etc., could be sent to the Charity editor.
All the papers, also, invited H. R. to accept the editorship of the
page. His duties would consist of allowing his name to be printed at the
top of the page.
He declined their offers with profound regret, but promised to give
interviews to the reporters whenever they wished. Personal matters
precluded his acceptance of their kind invitations.
The personal matters consisted of the boom in sandwich advertising.
It was not uncommon to see "Sandwich-board Maker, approved by the
S. A. S. A.," in signs in various parts of the city. A new industry!