When Tad became famous as a cartoonist and a writer, he often referred to Jim’s remark. Among Tad’s favorite sports writers were Hype Igoe, Bill McGeehan, and Rube Goldberg, each a noted man in his profession. “The gamest man I ever knew,” is what Gene Tunney called Tad, and Tunney knew something of many kinds of courage. Tad was responsible for the discovery of many young writers who later became stars in the sports world. It was he who encouraged the famous Charles E. Van Loan, whose books on sports are well known in England and in the United States. Van Loan became one of the greatest baseball writers in America while working on the San Francisco _Bulletin_ and later, when Van Loan accepted a post in Denver, he discovered another youth—now known to the sports and movie world as Damon Runyon. Though Tad did not originate all the famous slang expressions credited to him, he at least was responsible for popularizing them. Remember when “23 skidoo” was the rage? That was one of Tad’s expressions. It was he who named Jack Johnson “Lil Arthur” at the time that the giant Negro was in training for his fight with Jim Jeffries at Reno. Tad was the only fistic expert in Reno who picked Johnson to win by a knockout. Joe Gans was dubbed “The Old Master” and Harry Wills, he called “Ol Har.” Pete Stone, one of the favorites in Stanley Ketchel’s camp when Hype Igoe was Ketchel’s manager, Tad nicknamed “Pete the Goat.” He called Jack Dempsey, “The Manassa Mauler” and “The Killer” and these “titles” have been identified with Dempsey ever since. The stories about Tad are so numerous that it would take a volume to tell them. His escapades in “Jack’s,” a famous New York restaurant of pre-prohibition days, are frequently told in sports circles. The story of how two song writers picked up his expression, “Yes, we have no bananas” and made a million out of it, is an old one. If making millions laugh every day qualifies a man to call himself an artist—and I know of no higher art—then Tad was an artist. I enjoyed his company and was proud to have been numbered among his friends. Not only did he bring laughter into the world with his “Silk Hat Harry,” “Judge Rummy,” “Indoor Sports” and other famous drawings, but created words that Webster never dreamed of. Tad was the “Emperor of Prince Regent,” and “High Commissioner” of the sports gatherings in New York. He loved that bawdy life and he understood it as few others did. His greatness lay in his understanding of humanity. Shams never fooled him. He looked behind them, and saw human emotions—petty, silly, or noble. He loved Broadway and the sports world with a passionate intensity which he transmitted to others in the journalistic profession. Several years before heart trouble made it impossible for him to attend fights, I saw him in Tex Rickard’s office and we discussed old times.