Evening star., 1932-05-08
r. UMFORD"
M :: !: !: !: :: i:
his paper and stroSe acrS


his paper and strode across
the big opyfactoy room to answer the city
editors call.
Mr. Rogan shouted few rapid fire words
of instruction to Rewrite Malloy on q gangstsr
story and then turned to Mumford
Here's a peach of yarn, Benny" he said.
I'm giving you the assignment because you're
a poet" There was a malicious twinkle in
Rogans eye.
Benny gave twitch of resentment, bat
shrugged his shoulders and grinned.
"Its an exclusive tip Rosan continued. "A
rich old miser named Peter Ruff died several
days ago. leaving million bucks-most Of his
fortune-to poor girl who wrote poem about
him that he liked She was wise-headed, prac-
tical, and gave her poem the title, I'd Rather
Be Miser Than Spendthrift' 1t was pub
iished under her name in a community news
paper, and Ruff recognized the character rimed
about as himself. He told her nothing about
his intention, but secretly made his WILL leav-
ing her million in stocks and bonds. Here's
her name and address. Go out and see her,
get her story and her picture and a copy Of
the poem. Well run the yarn tomorrow"
Benny took the slip of copy paper on which
were written the name and address of the girl
and left the Office.
Ruth Mason" unused the reporter, as he
walked down Madison street toward the ele-
waited station. Not a bad name, though it's
common enough. Do for a poetess. Hope she's
a good one, for the sake of the story, though
I'm jealous of her Gee, 1 wish that idea had
come to me. I'd "a had lot O. fun with it.
No, I don't know, either. She knew miSer,
and I never did. Most of the fools I've known
were spendthrifts. And I've failed in my am
bition to be a great poet because there are so
many spendthrifts in the world-spendthrifts
of brains well as of money"
. Emmy was no brain spendthrift. He had
- never been given to self-advertising. There
was really nothing picturesque about him. You
wouldn't even call him good looking. He was
neither tall nor short, heavy nor light, was
rather reserved in his manner, wore ordinary
clothes and there was no particular brilliance
or sharpness in his eyes. All his sharpness
was in the back of his head-smothered there
until less than year before, he sneaked into
the newspaper business, following failure that
would have wrecked less resolute young man.
For several years he had been recognized N
the scholastic field a promising genius--a
poet! But somehow his poetry wouldn't sell
worth paper, postage stamps and typewriter
upkeep, let alone wear and tear on disappoint-
ing nerves. Now and then, long intervals apart,
he was able to make a small sale, but for every
poem he sold he gave away dozen after
they had gone the round Of editorial sanctums
He was written up several times in metro
politan newspapers Once Sunday magazine
section carried layout of his verse. He wrote
college foot ball song that melodied the team
to many pigskin victory. Certain professors
even went so far to acclaim him, limiting at
comparison of his work with the classics
But those professors did nct know, or forgot
that soulless skyscrapers were going up, 20, 30,
40, so stories high. with none of the imagina-
tive boldness of the Tower of Babel and that
unsentimental billion dollar corporations were
being formed. Nor did Benny realize this, or
its significance, until he was turned out ruth
lessy into skyscraper, billion dollar corpora
ton world.
Then came his unsuccessful search for
sympathetic job, the revelation to him of the
skyscraper- corporation anti-poesy cynicism, and
his final canvass of the newspaper Offices with
the secret hope Of eventually becoming poetic
coumnist
He got a job on the Journal, an afternoon
paper, and made good a news writer from
the start.
And here he was on an assignment that
looked as II 1t might contain a great poetic
thrill. but with fame and fortune benefits ac
'cruirsg ate, another poet 3'Pd Rather Be a
-sss7ss sssis ss 3