Page:The New Yorker 0001 1925-02-21.pdf/6

4 by a decision I made about fifteen years ago. It was a decision that brought me attention from all over the world. During the last few years I have become the nationally acknowledged leader of a private organization in which the whole country is interested. My name appears almost daily in one particular department of the newspapers. My last name begins with L.”

Two or three present guessed who it was. Can you?

William Allen White called at the office of Collier′s the other day.

“I′ve been thirty-six hours on a train,” he told the head office boy, “and I′ve rather lost track of things. Who's editor now?”

“Mr. William Ludlow Chenery,” replied the boy.

“Tell Mr. Chenery that Mr. William Allen White is outside,” said White. A moment later the boy returned with a note that read:

“Mr. Chenery is very busy now and asks Mr. White to wait ten minutes.” To which Mr. White scribbled the following:

“If Mr. Chenery will post a cash guarantee that he will still be managing editor at the end of ten minutes, Mr. White will wait.”

I′ve a friend who is a member of the group of scientists which sailed off under William Beebe’s leadership, on the adventurous cruise that is expected to contribute all sorts of information about the Sargasso Sea. Aboard the Arcturus the expedition will be thousands of miles away from the rest of mankind for many months. My friend’s comment on the social side of what may prove one of the world’s most important voyages of discovery might be interesting to anyone speculating on what scientists think as they said into the unknown:

“My announcement that I was leaving on a scientific expedition to the Sargasso Sea for six months split my friends into two groups: those who would have given anything to go and those who would have given anything not to.

“‘But think’, carolled the one, ‘what a marvellous thing to do. Six months in southern seas, away from New York, away from people, nothing to do but lie in the sun and watch the fishes. How thrilling!’

“‘But think,’ groaned the other, ‘what a terrible thing to do. Six months in southern seas, away from New York, away from people, nothing to do but lie in the sun and watch the fishes. How appalling!’

“But largely they seemed interested in speculating whether we would return permanently devoted each to each, or carrying concealed weapons for the first opportunity. Would we come back racked by scurvy and with an immortal hatred for fish?

“All of which, in the face of the facts, is a little amusing. Judge for yourself.

“The Director, William Beebe: a scientist for whom obstacles are simply the condiments of conquest. The New York Zoological Park is a crystallization of his own energy. After leaving college he passed several years at the large extent of marsh and swamp which was the zoological park and when he left he had established an institution which is one of the best in the country. This is equally true of every field in which he has been active.

“He was interested in ornithology and the most authoritative work on pheasants bears his name. He became interested in work in British Guiana and there is now established at Kartabo an experimental research station which continues to function while Dr. Beebe explores Galapagos or the Sargasso Sea. Ordinarily, so much energy directed into one channel depletes all other reservoirs. Yet, during the war, Will Beebe was found driving an airplane over the front lines. Once, when an expedition had occasion to stop at Panama, Will Beebe walked off with the tennis championship. On a dance floor there is no more desirable partner than this same scientist. As a musician he can play almost any instrument that has strings.

“One meets at his parties great scientists, authors, musicians, people of the stage, all with a common