New-York tribune., 1910-09-24

4 Lovingly Drawn Portrait of
a New York Literary Agent.

a New York Literary Agent.
P. G. Wodehouse, in The London Globe.
Properly, this sketch should open with
the words, I call upon heaven 10 judge
between this man and me" But l do
not look upon Abe as a man. More as
sort of beetle; one Of those unclassifed
craWIers you see when you turn over a
fat stone in a field A kind of Thing
wriggling on the prismatic surface Of
New York life. An old actor told me
once of certain club which used to
exist during Buckstone's days at the
Haynarket. At the meetings of the
club the members sat round a big bar
rel which had a hole in the top. Through
this hole they were wont to throw any
scraps and odds and ends they did not
want. Bits of tobacco, bread, marrow
bones, the dregs of their glasses-any-
thing and everything went into the bar
rel. And" said my informant, 'as the
barrel became fuller and fuller, strange
animals made their appearance-ani-
mails of peculiar shape and form crawled
out of the barrel and attempted TO
escape across the floor. But we headed
them off with our sticks sir, and we
chased them back again to the place
where they had been born and bred. We
poked them in, sir, with our sticks
Abe would have gone back into that
barrel.
conclusion that 1 do not like Abe The
casual reader is entitled to a cigar or
cOcoanut, according to choice.
Abe is essentially product of New
York In our slower London atmosphere
he could not live month. Long ere
that period was over, a calOus law would
stretch out an arm and jerk him before
a tribunal But in New York everybody
is in too great a hurry to trouble about
the Abes. You have no time on Tuesday
to think about the man who buncoed you
on Monday. AL your attention IS rivet-
ted on the bright boy who IS plainly
preparing TO have dash at buncOtng
you on Tuesday afternoon.
Ny first dealings with Abe were
through the medium of the post. Charm
ing letters he wrote, charming. I have
them stilD. I had sent the Ms. Of q
novel of mine, Love Among the Chick
ems" to an English friend living in New
York. Pressure OF business compelled
him to hand it over to a regular agent
Abe, I viii say this for Abe: he placed
the book. In the letter Ga delightful let
teri informing me that he had done so
he said that the cheque would arrive on
October the 18th October came and
to myself. they have so little time;
must be patient" BY Christmas I was
inclined to restlessness. In March
cabled and received the reply: Letter
explaining. Cheque soon" In April,
with d passionate gesture, / packed a
toothbrush and caught the Lusitania.
Abe came into my life IN the flesh
heralded by cloud Of smoke and the
penetrating aroma Of one Of the most
spirited young cigars ! have ever en-
cCuntered: a little vulture-like man with
liquid green eyes, yellow hands, a blue
suit and white hair. Quite a color
scheme he presented that pleasant April
morning. He sat right down and told
me all about IL. Such a sad story He
had given the cheque for the novel 10 a
young lady Of his acquaintance. who was
going over to England, 10 take 70 me.
she was TO meet me, present the cheque
in the course Of conversation, and all
would be JOY, jolllty and song But no!
On her way to England she touched Zone
would, of courseb at Monte Carlo. That
fatal spot, She herself would have
scorned to cash a strangers cheque- But
her brother had fewer scruples, He
gambled at the tables Lostii Swiped
sisters little bit of Jewelryi Lost again :
Merciful Heavens, what shall I do? Hal
The cheque Swiped it and lost that.
too,it, But. never mind" said Abe.
soothingly. you shall be paid. I will
pay you myself" And he gave me a
hundred dollars on account and told me
TO get my hat and come along and see
editors.
I was but as a piece Of chewed string
There We're moments before we sepa-
rated when I almost believed that story,
and thought IL rather decent OF him to
let me have hundred dollars. His gen.
eralship was, / admit, consummate. He
never ceased to keep moving. All that
day we were dashing into elevators.
dashing out, plunging into editorial sane
tums (''Shake hands with Mr.. Wode-
house'l, plunging out, leaping into
streetcars. leaping out. till anything like
coherent thought was impossible. He
only made one tactical error That was
when he introduced me 10 the man 20
whom he had given my cheque-
He was q brother author, from Ken
lucky His experience had been prac-
tically identical with mine He had sent
his stories from Kentucky to Abe in
New York. and Abe had done every
thing except let him finger the rich. red
gold. When he was about six hundred
dollars down, my friend, breathing hot
Southern maledictions. packed a revol-
yer and started for New York 7 think
Abe must have been little out OF sorts
the morning he met him. The best he
could do in the way OF a story was a
narrative Of losses In Wall Street. Later.