New-York tribune., 1922-12-09
Young Boswell
HterOieWS
Chauncey Depew

BECAUSE he hos been interpicloea H'0fe
than any other man living,
nc ,oas United States Senator tor
ttDclre goars,
Ne ,gos ekairman Of tho board Of di.
reetoys Of the NeC York Central
Railroad,
he ,oas the orator Of the unreihng Of
tho Statuo Of Liberty,
he is eiohty-eight years old,
he Is famous for his ofteT-dinneT
speeches.
Young BossoeH tCas Uhored into a
quiet gray draiVing room IN Ffftg-fotrth
street. and told that MR. DEPEW icoHld
be right dopR. Ho liked the otmosPhere
Of other days, the gray damosk on tho
icalls, the long mirrors and tho Louis
chairs. The famous ofter-dinneT speaker
came IN.
CHAUNCEY DEPEw-In my more
active days, when / was head OF the
railroad and was in politics, ! was sup
posed to be the source Of original in
formation. The result was that the vet
eran journalist came 20 me for things
which he thought ] knew better than
other people, and / was the favorite
victim for city editors TO send their cub
reporters 70 practice on.
Young BosweH felt positively ashamed.
CHAUNCEY DEPEW--At one period
when everybody was in Wall Street and
stocks were bouncing up and down re-
porters would come 70 me for inside In
formation which would be Of value in
the stock operations Of their readers,
but / never heard Of anybody who got
rich on these revelations. A man who
Is interviewed every day Of his life ac-
quires quite naturally the information
habit. He gives away lot, but nothing
which would be indiscreet TO reveal.
he smiled slylg, as he tioirled his mas
siVe match chain, on which hung a Ph
Beta Kappa keV ard several medais.
His kindly face, Nth the famous White
side-Dhiskers and the keen blWs eyes,
gaze Young Bosi0eH confidence. His
sensitive hands, iVhick bespoke carefully
directed eHergy and poignant tgit, moved
Gt times 10 emphasize his points.
CHAUNCEY DEPEW-I suppose !
was the leader OF after-dinner speakers
because | spoke more often than any one
else living. ! used after-dinner speak
ing as a relief from my constant hard
work in the railroad, which was 50 ex-
hausting. At one time / spoke al most
every night, often going 70 make
speech without partaking OF the dinner.
There Is no doubt that prohibition has
made a tremendous change in dinner
audiences. Now they are bored with
serious discussions and critical Of light
ones. In fact, their general attitude is
~ want 20 90 home
Young Boswell-It is singular that
there are so. few after-dinner speakers
left
cHAUNCEY DEPEW-Yes. Take
twenty or thirty years ago, there were
in New York alone half dozen men Of
national reputation as speakers. Now
II is almost impossible TO find them for
public dinners, and the newspapers,
which used 70 publish after-dinner
speeches in full, now pay little atten-
ton 70 them. Now the report Is gen
orally Among those present we're" IL
was an intellectual opportunity Of rare
delight 70 have heard personally such
men as William NJ. Evarts, Joseph H.
Choate, Judge Brady and his brother,
James T. Brady; Richard o'Gorman and
Henry Ward Beecher in their prime.
The dinner platform used to be the finest
for the utterance Of palat-
able truths, sugar-coated with humor.
Young Boswcll-What has happened
CHAUNCEY DEPEw-1 think It Is
largely due 20 the falling of Of debating
societies in the colleges, although hear
Mr.. Will Rogers has become a popular
man. And then one can
never tell how the speaker will be re-
ceived. I have frequently made a
speech which / didn't regard very Sc
riously and II has been published all
over the country. while the ones l pre-
pared with a great deal OF care received
very little attention. An after-dinner
speech ought to have some necessary
truth, considerable humor, and one new
story. An
A voice from a nearby room oolled 10
Mr.. DEPEW: you have talked half an
hour. and you have cold"
CHAUNCEY DEPEW-Yes. ! will
stop, my boy. was in the class of '56
al Yale. There were ninety-seyen In my
class, and only six Of US are left. Think
Of i'll Sixty-six years agol