And now that we are speaking about Hearst—Like all men of brilliant mind, he has his little eccentricities. His is that he never can find his automobile. He owns some twenty cars, but never can find one. He brings his car downtown; forgets it and walks away to the nearest taxicab. The chauffeur waits around until he knows that W. R. is lost again and goes home. Wherefore you invariably encounter Hearst riding around New York in sad and disreputable looking taxicabs. Occasionally, he asks his subordinates if “anybody knows where I left my automobile.” Hearst, however, is a man of penetrating intellect. Don’t let anybody tell you the old yarn about his success being due to his brilliant subordinates. He has a mind that cuts like a slashing knife. To meet him personally, you would think him the newest and meekest reporter in the Hearst service. He comes into the offices of his hired men with a shy bashful air and usually says, “I hope I am not in the way.” But just let them try to disobey his orders and see how meek he is. Wow! Our old friend, Wilbur F. Crafts, the reformer, has spent a busy summer in New York. He has been horrified in turn over the Dempsey-Carpentier fight, over the frightful case of some girls who wore one-piece bathing suits at Atlantic City; over some good respectable families who wanted to walk down to the beach in their regular clothes, with their bathing suits underneath and slip off the top layer, thus foiling the bath house robbers. Wilbur also had a spasm of excitement because Tex Rickard had some children from Panama giving some exhibitions of swimming in his big pool in Madison Square Garden. Some time ago, in a censorship hearing, I actually heard the Rev. Wilbur admit that he was wrong. He had presented a bill he wanted passed, creating a national censorship. One of his friends on the congressional committee raised his eyes humbly to the chandeliers and said he wanted to offer a criticism. Rev. Crafts said he always welcomes honest criticism; he tried to do his humble best, but if wrong, wanted to be corrected; hence he would yield to the congressional gentleman and accept his amendment. The amendment was to boost the salary of the job Rev. Crafts was after from $4,000 to $8,000 a year. He certainly yielded like a Christian martyr. But about these girls and their one-piece suits that shocked Atlantic City almost beyond human endurance. Near Atlantic City is a little strip of beach called Somer’s Point. When the police chased the Annette Kellermanns off the beach at Atlantic City, the mayor of Somer’s Point said they could come to his beach, b’ gosh. And so they went—and so the road around Somer’s Point has been blocked all summer—and so Mayor Robert Crissey, who is seventy-two, but has young ideas, is famous. A discreet man is Mayor Crissey, nevertheless.