and worn, torn, scribbled and dog-eared…the ghosts of Plato, Galileo, Milton, Virgil, Shakespeare, Tennyson…stroll through the deserted library…Suddenly the sun burst like a golden sky-rocket through the clouds…and soon I was indulging my literary fancy in the Sunday newspaper cartoons…bless them.”
Here we come again to the stringing topic, when we pick up a card with a string inserted, from our desk which starts off “We’re not stringing you”. We give a heavy sigh of relief for, with the President of these mighty United States acting as head interlocutor to the greatest company of expert “stringing” men ever gathered together, the term “string” instinctively puts us on our guard.
We are going to put Benton Wetzel’s name down for the clever idea of the stringing card, and looking back at what Oakland did in 1935, we are inclined to mark our ballot for the city which gave such a fine welcome to the N.A.P.A.
From among Non-National papers we wish to mention Frank Craig’s “Verde Mons”, a United paper, dated 1937, thirty-two pages, six by nine, about a trip in a combination sleeping auto from Kewanee, Illinois, the editors’ native state, to Florida, then north to Vermont, the state which the editor says is his adopted state. We enjoyed Mr. Craig’s tale, but would like to get more than a mere glimpse of the editor’s personality, and less data about the country. Yet Verde Mons was interesting, although we do not know yet where to write Mr. Craig to thank him, as he gave no address.
This calls to mind that our last “O-Wash-Ta-Nong” bore no number or date. It was for November and was Vol. 2, No. 2.
From the Hermitage Printery a Friendly Quill has come to brighten our day. Amateur Journalists art de luxe we term this beautiful creation by Will Bates Grant, and some of the contents, too, are way above the average. These lines of the poem “Escutchen” by Madalein Cush appeal to us.
“Lifting its arms to a changing sky,
Emitting soft laughter eternally.”
And from the poem “Your loves and Mine” by Vida S. Adkins, we choose the lines
“The gleaming stars high overhead;
Delphiniums blue and daisies fair;
Old people with their silvered hair;
The tall pines, stately, grim, and old,
Soft candle-light with gleam of gold.
The rain drops on my window panes,
The solitude of tractless lanes.”
The issue is replete with meaty sayings, presumedly by the editor, and we hope to return at some future time to one article, which we feel, merits enlarged discussion.
Before we close with our exchanges, we wish to mention Much Ado again. Referring to the May issue, we are given a look, on page one of the Gish brothers and Johnson, Jr. with the caption “Here are the editors.” A fine looking staff, indeed, who are getting things out of this hobby.
On page four, Mr. Johnson, Sr., has an article so worth while, that we hope to reprint it in some of the publicity material, on which we are now at work. When Mr. Johnson writes “What amateur printing can mean to those who should be enjoying it, is far from being well enough known”, we certainly agree.
Editor Detrick of Spare Time has taken time to bind 1933 copies of his paper in neat little volumns, one of which he kindly mailed this office. It has been many months since we received an amateur book, although it was not an uncommon event in earlier days. Thank you Mr. Detrick.
In Spare Time for December, editor Detrick calls the attention of five American packet editors to the fact that they are hunting for boogies in their amalgamation, consolidation, and other forms of terror they scare up for their brother editors. This may be fun for the young editors, but it is not of even passing interest to the older members.
The A. J. Newsgram sets up January 9th–16th as “Amateur Press Week”. Messrs. Hamill and Close have a very ambitious program. It is to be hoped that neither their courage or money will run out. Personally, we believe our hobby merits more publicity than it ever has had, yet we have always felt that dyed-in-the-wool amateur journalists are not common, in fact they are rather rare. Assuming that we are correct, this means that amateur journalism has no “public acceptance” as a common type of hobby, and it also means that many thousands must be contacted to reach even the few, who might have something more than a passing interest in this hobby. Even this group must be reduced greatly, to sift out the real amateur journalists—the ones who stick.
Mr. Edkins points out other interest problems in his “A Prelude to History” in our last issue. Amateur Journalism Week has our blessing, its start may be small, but if we put more into it year by year, the ultimate results may be astounding.
Eisegeris, an artistic production, comes from the press of Burton J. Smith in Adrian, Michigan.
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