the americanization of edward bok-第59章

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　　　　　If　all　men　count　with　you；　but　none　too　much；　　　If　you　can　fill　the　unforgiving　minute　　　　　With　sixty　seconds　worth　of　distance　run；　　　Yours　is　the　Earth　and　everything　that's　in　it　　　　　Andwhich　is　moreyou'll　be　a　Man；　my　son！

　　Copied　out　from　memory　by　Rudyard　Kipling。　　　Batemons：　Sept。　1913　　　for　E。W。　Bok　on　his　50th　Birthday

It　was　on　Bok's　fiftieth　birthday　that　Kipling　sent　him　a　copy　of　〃If。〃　Bok　had　greatly　admired　this　poem；　but　knowing　Kipling's　distaste　for　writing　out　his　own　work；　he　had　resisted　the　strong　desire　to　ask　him　for　a　copy　of　it。　It　is　significant　of　the　author's　remarkable　memory　that　he　wrote　it；　as　he　said；　〃from　memory；〃　years　after　its　publication；　and　yet　a　comparison　of　the　copy　with　the　printed　form；　corrected　by　Kipling；　fails　to　discover　the　difference　of　a　single　word。

The　lecture　bureaus　now　desired　that　Edward　Bok　should　go　on　the　platform。　Bok　had　never　appeared　in　the　role　of　a　lecturer；　but　he　reasoned　that　through　the　medium　of　the　rostrum　he　might　come　in　closer　contact　with　the　American　public；　meet　his　readers　personally；　and　secure　some　first…hand　constructive　criticism　of　his　work。　This　last　he　was　always　encouraging。　It　was　a　naive　conception　of　a　lecture　tour；　but　Bok　believed　it　and　he　contracted　for　a　tour　beginning　at　Richmond；　Virginia；　and　continuing　through　the　South　and　Southwest　as　far　as　Saint　Joseph；　Missouri；　and　then　back　home　by　way　of　the　Middle　West。

Large　audiences　greeted　him　wherever　he　went；　but　he　had　not　gone　far　on　his　tour　when　he　realized　that　he　was　not　getting　what　he　thought　he　would。　There　was　much　entertaining　and　lionizing；　but　nothing　to　help　him　in　his　work　by　pointing　out　to　him　where　he　could　better　it。　He　shrank　from　the　pitiless　publicity　that　was　inevitable；　he　became　more　and　more　self…conscious　when　during　the　first　five　minutes　on　the　stage　he　felt　the　hundreds　of　opera…glasses　levelled　at　him；　and　he　and　Mrs。　Bok；　who　accompanied　him；　had　not　a　moment　to　themselves　from　early　morning　to　midnight。　Yet　his　large　correspondence　was　following　him　from　the　office；　and　the　inevitable　invitations　in　each　city　had　at　least　to　be　acknowledged。　Bok　realized　he　had　miscalculated　the　benefits　of　a　lecture　tour　to　his　work；　and　began　hopefully　to　wish　for　the　ending　of　the　circuit。

One　afternoon　as　he　was　returning　with　his　manager　from　a　large　reception；　the　〃impresario〃　said　to　him：　〃I　don't　like　these　receptions。　They　hurt　the　house。〃

〃The　house？〃　echoed　Bok。

〃Yes；　the　attendance。〃

〃But　you　told　me　the　house　for　this　evening　was　sold　out？〃　said　the　lecturer。

〃That　is　true　enough。　House；　and　even　the　stage。　Not　a　seat　unsold。　But　hundreds　just　come　to　see　you　and　not　to　hear　your　lecture；　and　this　exposure　of　a　lecturer　at　so　crowded　a　reception　as　this；　before　the　talk；　satisfies　the　people　without　their　buying　a　ticket。　My　rule　is　that　a　lecturer　should　not　be　seen　in　public　before　his　lecture；　and　I　wish　you　would　let　me　enforce　the　rule　with　you。　It　wears　you　out；　anyway；　and　no　receptions　until　afterward　will　give　you　more　time　for　yourself　and　save　your　vitality　for　the　talk。〃

Bok　was　entirely　acquiescent。　He　had　no　personal　taste　for　the　continued　round　of　functions；　but　he　had　accepted　it　as　part　of　the　game。

The　idea　from　this　talk　that　impressed　Bok；　however；　with　particular　force；　was　that　the　people　who　crowded　his　houses　came　to　see　him　and　not　to　hear　his　lecture。　Personal　curiosity；　in　other　words。　This　was　a　new　thought。　He　had　been　too　busy　to　think　of　his　personality；　now　he　realized　a　different　angle　to　the　situation。　And；　much　to　his　manager's　astonishment；　two　days　afterwards　Bok　refused　to　sign　an　agreement　for　another　tour　later　in　the　year。　He　had　had　enough　of　exhibiting　himself　as　a　curiosity。　He　continued　his　tour；　but　before　its　conclusion　fell　illa　misfortune　with　a　pleasant　side　to　it；　for　three　of　his　engagements　had　to　be　cancelled。

The　Saint　Joseph　engagement　could　not　be　cancelled。　The　house　had　been　oversold；　it　was　for　the　benefit　of　a　local　charity　which　besought　Bok　by　wire　after　wire　to　keep　a　postponed　date。　He　agreed；　and　he　went。　He　realized　that　he　was　not　well；　but　he　did　not　realize　the　extent　of　his　mental　and　physical　exhaustion　until　he　came　out　on　the　platform　and　faced　the　crowded　auditorium。　Barely　sufficient　space　had　been　left　for　him　and　for　the　speaker's　desk；　the　people　on　the　stage　were　close　to　him；　and　he　felt　distinctly　uncomfortable。

Then；　to　his　consternation；　it　suddenly　dawned　upon　him　that　his　tired　mind　had　played　a　serious　trick　on　him。　He　did　not　remember　a　line　of　his　lecture；　he　could　not　even　recall　how　it　began！　He　arose；　after　his　introduction；　in　a　bath　of　cold　perspiration。　The　applause　gave　him　a　moment　to　recover　himself；　but　not　a　word　came　to　his　mind。　He　sparred　for　time　by　some　informal　prefatory　remarks　expressing　regret　at　his　illness　and　that　he　had　been　compelled　to　disappoint　his　audience　a　few　days　before；　and　then　he　stood　helpless！　In　sheer　desperation　he　looked　at　Mrs。　Bok　sitting　in　the　stage　box；　who；　divining　her　husband's　plight；　motioned　to　the　inside　pocket　of　his　coat。　He　put　his　hand　there　and　pulled　out　a　copy　of　his　lecture　which　she　had　placed　there！　The　whole　tragic　comedy　had　happened　so　quickly　that　the　audience　was　absolutely　unaware　of　what　had　occurred；　and　Bok　went　on　and　practically　read　his　lecture。　But　it　was　not　a　successful　evening　for　his　audience　or　for　himself；　and　the　one　was　doubtless　as　glad　when　it　was　over　as　the　other。

When　he　reached　home；　he　was　convinced　that　he　had　had　enough　of　lecturing！　He　had　to　make　a　second　short　tour；　however；　for　which　he　had　contracted　with　another　manager　before　embarking　on　the　first。　This　tour　took　him　to　Indianapolis；　and　after　the　lecture；　James　Whitcomb　Riley　gave　him　a　supper。　There　were　some　thirty　men　in　the　party；　the　affair　was　an　exceedingly　happy　one；　the　happiest　that　Bok　had　attended。　He　said　this　to　Riley　on　the　way　to　the　hotel。

〃Usually；〃　said　Bok；　〃men；　for　some　reason　or　other；　hold　aloof　from　me　on　these　lecture　tours。　They　stand　at　a　distance　and　eye　me；　and　I　see　wonder　on　their　faces　rather　than　a　desire　to　mix。〃

〃You've　noticed　that；　then？〃　smilingly　asked　the　poet。

〃Yes；　and　I　can't　quite　get　it。　At　home；　my　friends　are　men。　Why　should　it　be　different　in　other　cities？〃

〃I'll　tell　you；〃　said　Riley。　〃Five　or　six　of　the　men　you　met　to…night　were　loath　to　come。　When　I　pinned　them　down　to　their　reason；　it　was　I　thought：　they　regard　you　as　an　effeminate　being；　a　sissy。〃

〃Good　heavens！〃　interrupted　Bok。

〃Fact；〃　said　Riley；　〃and　you　can't　wonder　at　it　nor　blame　them。　You　have　been　most　industriously　paragraphed；　in　countless　jests；　about　your　penchant　for　pink　teas；　your　expert　knowledge　of　tatting；　crocheting；　and　all　that　sort　of　stuff。　Look　what　Eugene　Field　has　done　in　that　direction。　These　paragraphs　have；　doubtless；　been　good　advertising　for　your　magazine；　and；　in　a　way；　for　you。　But；　on　the　other　hand；　they　have　given　a　false　impression　of　you。　Men　have　taken　these　paragraphs　seriously　and　they　think　of　you　as　the　man　pictured　in　them。　It's　a　fact；　I　know。　It's　all　right　after　they　meet　you　and　get　your　measure。　The　joke　then　is　on　them。　Four　of　the　men　I　fairly　dragged　to　the　dinner　this　evening　said　this　to　me　just　before　I　left。　That　is　one　reason　why　I　advise　you　to　keep　on　lecturing。　Get　around　and　show　yourself；　and　correct　this　universal　impression。　Not　that　you　can't　stand　when　men　think　of　you；　but　it's　unpleasant。〃

It　was　unpleasant；　but　Bok　decided　that　the　solution　as　found　in　lecturing　was　worse　than　the　misconception。　From　that　day　to　this　he　never　lectured　again。

But　the　public　conception　of　himself；　especially　that　of　men；　awakened　his　interest　and　amusement。　Some　of　his　friends　on　the　press　were　still　busy　with　their　paragraphs；　and　he　promptly　called　a　halt　and　asked　them　to　desist。　〃Enough　was　as　good　as　a　feast；〃　he　told　them；　and　explained　why。

One　day　Bok　got　a　distinctly　amusing　line　on　himself　from　a　chance　stranger。　He　was　riding　from　Washington　to　Philadelphia　in　the　smoking　compartment；　when　the　newsboy　stuck　his　head　in　the　door　and　yelled：　〃Ladies'　Home　Journal；　out　to…day。〃　He　had