"
Set down in cold print, this outburst loses almost every trace of its
intensely dramatic character. Mr. Pulitzer spoke as though he were
declaiming a part in a highly emotional play. At times he turned toward
me, his clenched fists raised above his shoulders, at times he threw
back his head, flung his outstretched hands at arms' length in front of
him, as though he were appealing to the earth, to the sea, to the air,
to the remote canopy of the sky to hear his denunciation of man's
inefficiency; at times he paused, laid a hand on my arm, and fixed his
eye upon me as if he expected the darkness to yield him some image of my
thought. It was almost impossible to believe at such a moment that he
was totally blind, that he could not distinguish night from day.
"Mind!" he continued, raising a cautionary finger, "I'm not making any
criticism of my present staff; you may consider yourself very lucky if I
find you to have a quarter of the good qualities which any one of them
has; and let me tell you that while you are with me you will do well to
observe these gentlemen and to try and model yourself on them.
"However, all that doesn't matter so much in your case, because there's
no question of your becoming one of my personal staff.
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