The Washington herald., 1913-02-09
BY JAMES b. MORROW.

Boston, Feb. Sat the firing of the
irst gun-that is to say, when he heard
the opening Question-John Francis
fitzgerald Mayor OF Boston. arose and
Degan to walk around. He had said to
yne man: Come over here, Mike and
cit down" and to another: Hello, Tim,
what's on your mind?" DrOning sounds
were heard. there in the corner of the
large, gIar1ng and shabby office, as
Mike got his orders and Tin made his
complaint, gave low voice TO his plans.
Then the Mayor. an undersized man,
erect as corporal of infantry; full
chested, like a boxer or wrestler;
blue-eyed, large-browed. his hair dashed
with gray, turned seriously toward me.
He looked trim. military and dramatic
III his dark cutaway coat, his light
colored trousers and his linen-faced vest
A brilliant stiCkpin, amber at times and
crimson I'm certain lights and angles,
glowed on his breast.
Motion, of legs or arms. Invariably
with orators, gives speed to thoughts and
nuency to words. Therefore, Mayor
Fitzgerald stood up. A moment later he
began TO walk. Sitting against the wall,
often twenty feet away, 1 saw nothing
half the time, but the nape of his neck
and the back of his head. 1t was as
though the army were Fastening on to
the front and were only a curious spec
tator on the fence. So ! Joined the
Mayor in his steady pace. Sometimes he
would halt for an instant and, with his
index finger. beat a tattoo of emphasis
on the collar of my coat
Though he may dance, with the proud
daughter OF an Italian immigrant, let us
say; though he may raise his tenor voice
IN song at a Russian reunion, and even
at Democratic meeting, and though he
may burst into the flames of eloquence
at any time or place, John Francis
Fitzgerald is an earnest. shrewd, and
sensible man. He plays the tune Of life
by note and not by ear. Beneath his
rhetoric there is a purpose solid and sin
cere. The frenzy of emotion, as he
parades the platform and punches his
fists into the air. lures him not away
into emptiness, vanity or foolishness. He
shoots TO hit and hits to kill
How Fitzgerald ssCame Back,
Five years ago he was turned out of
the Office he now holds. Most politi-
clans would have become morbid or CIV
en- up the ghost 1t was not so in this
case. The reformers who came to con-
quer remained to die. They gave the
city, however, another scheme of gov
ernment before they passed away. And
t. Fitzgerald, sure OF himself, laugh
ingly told his friends, shall be the first
the reform charter" Moreover, 1t came
TO pass. HE tries each day, Sundays in
cluded." a follower Of his informed me,
Ito win the friendship OF some voter who
has opposed him In the past
So John Francis Fitzgerald. a profess
sional politician, as he has been called,
boldly and fairly put on the habiliments
of rectitude, measured. cut, and made for
a wholly different type OF man, and sat
himself down once more In the Mayors
Office. "A bigger, better. and buster Bos-
ton," a phrase of his own, is still his
one great theme and battle cry Energy
would be feeble word with which part
ly to picture him. A steam engine in
boots is hacknied and inadequate, and,
besides, men nowadays wear something
else. Being the father of six children,
he is pleased to show any one their
photographs. He has Travelled six miles
in a flying machine with Claude Gra-
hame-w White, the aeronaut. Also, he has
been a member of Congress.
II haven't had dinner at home in the
evening but once since January. 1870" he
said to me as We marched from his Of
fee. To-day, at noon, ate a chicken
sandwich and drank two glasses of milk
while at my desk. come early and stay
late / have not slept more than six
hours Q night, and most Of the time