The Washington times., 1936-12-26
FAITH AND JOB
HELPED HER
MAKEG00D
Protegee Pays Glowing
ribute to Memory
OfGreat Friend
BY ELSIE ROBINSON
International News Service Special
Correspondent
Copyright. 1885, by international
News Service)

Copyright 1895, by international
News service)
SAN FRANCISCO, Dec. 26.-He
had faith!
I did not know Arthur Brisbane,
who lies sternly serene, resting at
last from his long campaign. I
saw him and heard him speak,
watched the marvels which took
place before his ceaselessly toiling
brain but I did not know him
Even to those who worked with
him daily Arthur Brisbane was a
man, an armored man, sealed in
the cold, gray detachment of a
superhuman force and intellect.
His life dedicated, with the fanaU'
icism Of a great crusader, to the
civilization Of his race.
Softer Side to Nature
Arthur Brisbane-invisible lead
er of bewildered millions-that
man I never knew. But there was
another mana gentle, whims1-
cal, shy man-whom I did know,
and whose friendship gave bless
ing and balance to my life from
the moment he entered it.
Maybe, hearing the story, you'll
think there's little to it.
HE just gave her a job-what
of that?" Perhaps you'll say, yes.
he just gave me job, but there
was something in that giving.
You see, was poor. Literally,
just up from the shaft where I'd
worked as a miner-one of the
drudging millions for whom he
sacrificed leisure, comfort, even
the chance of longer life. So that
when his wire came, calling me
from San Francisco to New York,
I had not even the money to buy
new coat.
Trimmed with Coyote
But there was a bargain rem
aant from the Emporium base
ment and the coyote pelt the
boy had shot with his first gun.
Somehow the coat was made-in-
credibly clumsy-with my fingers
fumbling and my throat clogging
with excitement, and the boys
eyes shining like blue flame in his
white, watching face.
Narrow runways, roaring presses,
a dingy room piled ceiling high
with manuscripts. And, behind the
cluttered desk, a big man in a
wrinkled suit, looking at trem,
bling woman with calloused hands
Looking seeing in one deep
glance whole of it. The long
hell of hopelessness the sud
den, undreamed heaven OF release
money, at last, for medicine,
food, little joy!
Just Two Words of Hope
But with it the swamping terror
of my own ignorance. Such a
chance! But how could I ever
hold the job? And if I didn't
what would become of the ooyi
In one glance, he probed it all
as he had learned to probe every
depth and heighth of the human
swing. Saw understood
and, with two words, gave me the
courage and confidence which was
to make it all possible. He said:
you'll manage"
Not much of story? Perhaps
yet, in SO years of looking
around, I've found no gift more
precious or potent than the thing
Arthur Brisbane gave that day to
q frightened mortal-the gift OF
his healing faith.
It's fine thing to make money.
Ard a fierce and flaming thing to
accumulate power and success.
Blu to keep, in spite of riches or
Wisdom or fame, believing heart
that is surely the loveliest and
rarest thing that can happen in
any life.
Never Lost Faith
So many will be talking today
Of Arthur Brisbane, the great
journalist, maker of deStinieS,
subtle planner, ruthless warrior
but am thinking of that other
man whom the world hardly knew
though it owed him so much. .
The man who, in spite of all
triumph or disaster" still be-
lieved in life and his fellow man
and, by believing, healed hurt
ones of their fear.
And if, out of all the words
there are. I could choose those
which are to stand above his
record for all time as his last
judgment and proudest summary,
I should write these three,
through my grateful tears.
"He had faith"