The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1913-11-18
DOROTHY DIX, FAMOUS
 WOMAN JOURNALIST,
 IS FORTY-THREE TO-DAY

Very few people have ever heard
 of Mrs Elizabeth Meriwether Gilmer,
 but every reader of newspapers and
 magazines between the frozen Hud- sons Bay and Tropic Mexico knows and loves Dorothy Dix, the creator of that most delightful of cullud man.
 mics, s'Afirandy.'' Dorothy Dix is really Mrs Gilmer, when at home,
 which is seldom In her youth, be- fore her nostrils had caught the scent of printers ink and the incense of fame, she had personal acquain- tance with many a Isis Mirandy'' and isis Marthy," for she was born in the black belt. Montgomery County, Tenn, Nov. IS, 1870, just forty-three years ago to-day-and she doesn't care who knows it She can afford to be indifferent to such vital statistics, Tor anybody, upon seeing her hand some and unIined face, would remark, 'ImpossibIeI She can't be over thir- ty-fve, at the very most-'' There is 8 suspicion along Park Row that Dor othy Dix is guilty of the unprece- dented act of trying to make folk be- lieve she is older than she really is.
 Elizabeth Meriwether was born and reared on a race-horse ranch, and in her youth developed two passions horses and newspapers. She declares that she literally cut her teeth on The Louisville Courier-JournaP' and when still a wee mite of a. girl she began devouring all the newspapers she could get. She was educated in ~ f1v Ied mt sixteen. and she was 9ust three days beyond her eighteenth birthday when she married George O. Gilmer, at C1arksville, Tenn
 Financial necessity and a love for the work induced her to take up journalism Her newspaper premiere was made as a member of the staff of the New Orleans Ptcayune. There her first assignments were to report funerals Whenever any prominent citizen was to be filed away in the neat little pigeon-holes that serve as graves in the Crescent c1ry, the young woman was assigned to write up the obsequies.'' She couldn't become ac- eustomed to death. and as a conse- uuence she always wept copious1y. This had the disadvantage of reducing her copy paper to a pulp, but the decided advantage of securing a place for the reporter up in front among the mourners. as it was thought she must be a relative of the late lament ed
 When she wasn't doing funerals Inc youthful reporter was doubling as a dramatic critic. As any man Rger or "anger' of stranded road lar play will tell you, there isn't as much difference between a funeral and the drama as may be imagined. Eventually she was made editor of the woman's department of the Pic ayune, and it was while employed in that capacity that she assumed the pen name of Dorothy Dix
 In 1900 she invaded New York and soon became one of the stars of the sob sister squad. She turned New York into a, vale of tears, and harrow ed the feelings of gentle readers until they wept aloud in grief. In those days. when riding in public convey ance, one often heard gurgles of grief cunning Den1nd opened neWSpa- pers, and knew that the stricken one was reading Dorothy Dox- Even Eual1y the reading public tired of go- mg about with red eyes, and Dorothy Dix, reading the signs of the times, | discovered that she had a vein of hu- nor, and began to work the mine The | result was ''Mirandy," a dusky phil l Dsopher in skirts, whose opinions are | expressed in inimitable darky dialect. l As all normal persons prefer to emit shuckIes of joy rather than gurgles 0f grief, the last stage of Dorothy | Dixs journalistic development is a de- l sided improvement over the first