The Birmingham age-herald., 1916-01-23

the three efficient linotype machines-the
 pride of the small village-clicked and
 chattered, back of the shiny grey parti-
 tion. and across in the job printing de-
 partment a few more mechanical bumbles
 droned their Il a. m. chorus.
 Outside the editorial room windows
 and they were wide open on this drowsy
 summer day." the veteran critic con-
 tinued reminiscently, 'the three trim 1 sycamore trees at the corner of Main and 1 Clarion streets were alive with starlings. ] It comes vividly to my mind now the vision of the gentleman in the brown l suit as he swung casually into Main street looking up at the buildings and the signs as he walked. He was stock l fly built person of substantial boise and 1 he was smoking long, black cigar, upon | which the red and gold band shone re- | splendently
 l "Of course we knew that he was a
 stranger in town," came the next bit of 1 information as the veteran critic swung back in his big, comfortable chair, peer l ing though the blue grey rings of smoke 1 as they ascended from his perfectly good l Havana and we recall that his face was very florid, and that there were a l few jolly little crows feet lines spraying | out from the corners of his laughing, | brilliant eyes; that the cane he carried | was god-headed and his glasses, also gold in outline pinched his nose, and 1 that a chain dangled and tangled like MT. Dombey's depending from the lapel of his coat and losing itself in a huge white carnation boutenniere. In moment the stranged was ushered by a small boy into the editorial rooms of the Clarion office
 1 Sunshine was a-streaming down { thro' the window high over head" the veteran critic said, "as the gentleman | in the brown suit seated himself by l the side of the editorial desk It 1 halo ed him; it furnished his sparse hair, and danced on the gold of his l very affluent walking stick. The mere
 looking at this parsonage of high de-
 gree, was considered a privilege. At 1 that time such thing as an inter | view telling how it happened;' how long he'd been on the stage;' what his l favorite brand of cigar was and all
 the other tommyrot they do to import
 ant people nowadays, was never head
 of then. To merely observe a, great
 personage in the street was regarded
 as an unusual honor; something that | happened to very few; but here was | this famous man. sitting opposite the
 editorial desk throwing out sparks of
 ma agnetism and gazing from beneath
 a brow that was classic in it's mold never was there such a pair of eyes
 before; kindly scintillating, benevolent,
 laughing eyes they were. and his mouth seemed always breaking into smile. "He puffed away at the big cigar" the veteran critic smiled in the re-
 calling of it, land how he began to
 talk and oh, the funny stories and
 anecdotes that did roll from that busy
 tongue of his! He. brought odd, newsy whiffs of the outside world and flung
 them about that newspaper -strewn of l flee, as if they were so much highly tinted confetti As David Harum was
 wont to say: And that man was Jim
 explanation that all this is by way of introduction to that cordially voluble, florid-faced stranger, of whom I may
 quote; That man was William H. 1 Craner 4,
 "He was gone as quickly as he had
 come," the veteran critic sighed sadly,
 "a trail of his drab-white cigar smoke
 drifting up among the sycamore branches
 behind him, and although that must have | been 20 years ago. there is no doubt in
 my mind that that little hamlet tucked | away in the mountains of neighboring
 state and especially that little old fash