CHAPTER XXXII
PUBLICITY
As soon as the first necessities of their business were provided for atVicksburg, Phil wandered off in search of newspapers. He had becomeinterested in many things through his newspaper reading in connectionwith Jim Hughes, and concerning many matters he was curious to know theoutcome. So he sought not only for the latest newspapers, and notchiefly for them, but rather for back numbers covering the period duringwhich _The Last of the Flatboats_ had been wandering in the woods. Hesecured a lot of them, some of them from New York, some from Chicago,some from St. Louis, and some from other cities.
To his astonishment, when he opened the earliest of them,--those thathad been published soon after the affair at Memphis,--he found themfilled with portraits of himself and of his companions, with picturesof _The Last of the Flatboats_, and even with interviews, of whichneither he nor Irv Strong, who was the other one chiefly quoted, hadany recollection. Yet when they read the words quoted from their lips,they remembered that these things were substantially what they hadsaid to innocent-looking persons not at all known to them as newspaperreporters, who had quite casually conversed with them at Memphis.Neither had either of them posed for a portrait, and yet here werepictures of them, ranging all the way from perfect likenesses toabsolute caricatures, freely exploited.
Phil and Irv were so curious about this matter that they asked everybodywho came on board for an explanation. Finally, one young man, who hadcome to them with an inquiry as to the price at which they would bewilling to sell out the boat and cargo at Vicksburg instead of going onto New Orleans, smiled gently and said, in reply to Phil's questions:--
"Well, perhaps you don't always recognize a reporter when you see him.Sometimes he may come to you to talk about quite other things than thosethat he really wants you to tell him about. Sometimes your talk willprove to be exactly what he wants to interest his readers with, and asa reporter usually has a pretty accurate memory, he is able to reproduceall that you say so nearly as you said it, that you can't yourselfafterward discover any flaw in his report. Sometimes, too, the reporterhappens to be an artist sent to get a picture of you. He may have akodak concealed under his vest, but usually that does not work. It isclumsy, you know, and generally unsatisfactory. It is a good deal easierfor a newspaper artist who knows his business to talk to you aboutturnips, or Grover Cleveland, or Christian Science, or the tariff, orany of those things that people always talk about, and while you thinkhim interested in the expression of your views, make a sketch of you onhis thumb nail or on his cuff, which he can reproduce at the office forpurposes of print. By the way, have you talked with any reporters sinceyou arrived at Vicksburg?"
"No," answered Phil; "none of them have come aboard."
"Are you sure of that?"
"Well, yes; I haven't seen a single man from the press."
"Well, if any of the papers should happen to 'get on' to the fact thatyou are here, and print something about it, I will send you copies inthe morning."
The next morning the promised copies came. One of them contained notonly a very excellent portrait of Phil and a group picture of the crew,but also an almost exact reproduction of the conversation given above.
A new light dawned upon Phil's mind.
"After all, that fellow was a reporter and a very clever one. He didn'twant to buy the boat or its cargo or anything else. But I wonder if hewas an artist also. If not, who made those pictures?"
"Well," said Irv, "you remember there was a young woman who came onboard about the same time that he did. She was very much interested inBaby, but I noticed that she went all over the boat, and when you andthat young fellow were talking, she sat down on the anchor, there, andseemed to be writing a letter on a pad. Just then, as I remember, wefellows were gathered around the new lantern you had just bought andexamining it--and, by the way, here's the lantern in the group picture."
All this was a revelation to Phil, and it interested him mightily. Asfor Irv Strong, he was so interested that he made up his mind to beardthe lion in his den. He went to the office of one of the newspapers andasked to see its editor. But out of him he got no satisfaction whatever.The editor hadn't the slightest idea where the interviews or thepictures had come from.
"All that," he said, "is managed by our news department. I never knowwhat they are going to do. I judge them only by results. But I do notmind saying to you that there would have been several peremptorydischarges in this office if this paper had not had a good picture of_The Last of the Flatboats_, a portrait of your interesting youngcaptain and other pictures of human interest tending to illustrate thearrival of this boat at our landing, although we rarely print picturesof any kind in our paper. This is an exceptional case. And I think thatthe chief of our news department would have had an uncomfortable quarterof an hour if he and his subordinates had failed to secure a talk withpersons so interesting as those who captured Jim Hughes, as he iscalled, and secured the arrest of the others of that bank burglar'sgang, and afterward rescued one of the most distinguished citizens ofMississippi and his family from death by starvation. Really, you mustexcuse me from undertaking the task of telling you how our boys do thesethings. It is not my business to know, and I have a great many otherthings to do. It is their business to get the news. For that they areresponsible, and to that end they have control of adequate means. Oh, bythe way, that suggests to me a good editorial that ought to be writtenright now. Perhaps you will be interested to read it in to-morrowmorning's paper. I am just going to write it."
As it was now midnight, Irv was bewildered. How in the world was he toread in the next morning's paper an editorial that had, at this hour,just occurred to the man who was yet to write it? How was it to bewritten, set up in type, and printed before that early hour when thenewspaper must be on sale?
The editor knew, if Irv did not. He knew that the hour of midnight seesthe birth of many of the ablest and most influential newspaperutterances of our time. Irv's curious questions had suggested to him alittle essay upon the value of Publicity, and it was upon that themethat he wrote. He showed, with what Irv and Phil regarded as anextraordinary insight into things that they had supposed to be knownonly to themselves, how their very irregular reading of the newspapers,from time to time, as they received them, had first awakened theirinterest in a vague and general way in the bank burglary case; how, astheir interest became intenser, and the descriptions of the fleeingcriminal became more and more detailed, they had at last so far coupledone thing with another as to reach a correct conclusion at the criticalmoment. He showed how, but for this persistent and minute Publicity,they would never have dreamed of arresting the fugitive who was posingas their pilot--how, but for this, the criminals would probably neverhave been caught at all; how their escape would have operated as anencouragement to crime everywhere by relieving it of the fear ofdetection,--and much else to the like effect. It was a very interestingarticle, and it was one which set the boys thinking.
"After all," said Ed, "we owe a great deal more to the newspapers than Ihad ever thought. And the more we think of it, the more we see that weowe it to them. I don't know whether they are always sincere in theirantagonism to wrong or not, but at any rate in their rivalry with eachother to get the earliest news and to stand best with the public, theymanage pretty generally to expose about all the wrongs there are, and torouse public opinion against them. I suppose that, but for thenewspapers, we should not have a very good country to live in,especially so far as big cities are concerned."
"As to those sentiments," said Irv, "I'm afraid one Thomas Jefferson gotahead of you, Ed. I remember reading that he said somewhere, that hewould rather have a free press without a free government than a freegovernment without a free press. I imagine his meaning to have been thatwe could not long have a free government without a free press, and thatif we have a free press it must pretty soon compel the setting up of afree government."
"But the newspapers do publish such dreadful things," said Constant."They make s
o many sensations that their moral influence, I suppose, ispretty bad."
"Well, is it?" asked Irv. "If there is a pest-hole in any city, wheretyphus or smallpox is breeding, and a newspaper exposes it, it is notpleasant reading, of course, but it arouses public attention and bringspublic opinion to bear to compel a remedy. If there is a health board,the newspapers all want to know what the health board is doing; if thereisn't a health board, the newspapers all cry out, 'Why isn't there ahealth board?' and presently one is organized. Now I suppose it is verymuch the same way about moral plague spots. If vice or crime prevail inany part of the city, the newspapers print the news of it and call uponthe police to suppress it. This arouses public attention and bringspressure to bear upon public officials until the bad thing is done awaywith, or at least reduced to small proportions."
"Yes," said Ed, thinking and speaking slowly, "and there is anotherthing. Even when the newspapers print the details about scandals, and wesay it would be better not to publish such things, it may be that thenewspapers are right; because every rascal that is inclined to doscandalous things knows by experience or observation that thenewspapers, if they get hold of the facts, will print them and hold himup to the execration of mankind. If the newspapers did not print thenews of such things, every scoundrel would know that he could do what hepleased without fear of being made the subject of scandal. The firstthought of every rascal seems to be to keep his affairs out of thenewspapers. Now perhaps it is better that he cannot keep them out; as hecertainly cannot. In very many cases, without doubt or question, men arerestrained from doing outrageous things merely by the fear that theirconduct will be exploited with pictures of themselves and fac-similes oftheir letters and everything of the kind, in so-called sensationalnewspapers."
"Well, all that is so, I suppose," said Will, "though I hadn't thoughtof it quite to the extent that you have, Ed. I have always been toldthat the newspapers were horribly sensational and immoral, but, now thatI think of it, when they publish a story of immorality, it is becausesomebody has been doing the immoral thing that they report; and as yousay, the fact that the newspapers are pretty sure to get hold of thetruth and publish it in every case is often a check on men's tendency todo immoral things."
Before parting with their rescued friends at Vicksburg, the boys had togo ashore and be photographed, at the planter's solicitation.
"I want my children always to think of you young men as their friends,"he said,--"friends to whom they owe more than they can ever repay. Idon't want 'Baby' to forget you as she might--she is so young still--ifshe did not have your portraits to remind her as she grows older. As formyself and my wife--I cannot say how much of gratitude we feel. Thereare some things that one can't even try to say. But be sure--" He brokedown here, but the boys understood.
Irv Strong, whose objection to anything like a "scene" is a familiarfact to the reader, diverted the conversation by saying:--
"It would be a pity to perpetuate the memory of these clothes of ours,or to let the little ones learn as they grow up what a ragamuffin crewit was with whom an unfortunate accident once compelled them toassociate for a time. So suppose we have only our faces photographednow, and send you pictures of our best clothes when we get back home."
The triviality served its purpose, and the party went to thephotographer's.
When the time of leave taking came there were tears on the part of themother and the children, while "Baby" stoutly insisted upon remainingon the flatboat with "my big boys," as she called her rescuers. She wasespecially in love with Phil, who, in spite of his absorbing duties,had found time to play with her and tell her wonderful stories. Duringthe clothes-making wait at Vicksburg, indeed, Phil had done littleelse than entertain the beautiful big-eyed child. He repeated to herall the nursery rhymes and jingles he had ever heard in his infancyor since, and to the astonishment of his companions, he made up manyjingles of his own for her amusement. He made up funny stories for hertoo,--stories that were funny only because he illustrated them withcomical faces and grotesque gestures.
So when the time of parting came the child clung to him, and had to betorn away in tears. I suppose I ought not to tell it on Phil, but he toohad to turn aside from the others and use his handkerchief on his eyesbefore he could give the command to "cast off" in a husky and not verysteady voice.
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