People's Pilot, Volume 6, Number 32, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 28 January 1897 — SHERMAN’S BUGABOO. [ARTICLE]

SHERMAN’S BUGABOO.

HOW THE SENATOR WAS BESTED BY .* SMART REPORTER. Caught the Next Premier In an Elevator. The Famous Ohioan Said Not a Word, but the Newspaper Man Had a Two Colome Interview Just the Same. Senator John Sherman submitted to an interview the other day. It was thoroughly characteristic of the man. He simply said, “I have accepted the portfolio of state,” and beyond this would say nothing for publication. Senator Sherman is not an easy prey for the newspaper boys. Throughout Ohio he has long been called “the Mansfield icicle” because of his personal frigidity, and yet he is at all times kind-' ly, courteous, and to those who enjoy his confidence even affable. But when he quietly says that he “has nothing to say for publication* * the interviewers may as well retire at once. ‘‘The newspaper reporter,” he once remarked to me, ” is the greatest enigma of the nineteenth century. lam interested in him always, respect him generally and fear him sometimes. But I never cease to wonder at his resourcefulness in searching for news. ‘‘Shortly after I was appointed secretary of the treasury in President Hayes' cabinet I had occasion to go to New York on business of an official nature which I wanted to keep strictly quiet. I took especial pains to guard against newspaper men and flattered myself that I had succeeded pretty well. “I transacted my business without, reportorial interruption and fancied that I had entirely eluded the fraternity. As I entered the elevator at the hotel to go to my room, however, I found that the car contained one other passenger, who instinctively I felt was a member of the bohemian tribe. ‘‘The dar started upward, but between the second and third floors it got stuck and came to a dead stop. Apparently the elevator boy had lost control of it and was unable to start it in either direction.

. ‘*l instantly divined that the cause of the stoppage was a half dollar given to ' the boy by the reporter for making me captive. The shrewdness of the plan amused me greatly, and I suppose sueh enterprise really deserved to be rewarded, but I kept as mum as an oyster and refused to answer a single question of the volley fired at me at point blank range. “The reporter gave up the interview as a bad job, and the car again started upward. As I left it I couldn’t forbear ! the pleasure of saying with malicious ■ earnestness, ‘Young man, you will con-! fer a great favor on me if you'will not print what I have just said to you. ’ “ ‘l’d like to oblige you, senator,’ he I replied, with much seriousness, ‘ but business is business, and the story will have to go. ’ “Somehow I recalled that episode a dozen times on my trip back to Washington. When I arrived, I picked up a New York paper, and there, on the first page, staring at me under great, black headlines, was a two column- interview touching upon nearly all the leading questions of the day and giving my i views upon the very financial matters j which had taken me to the metropolis. ; “At first I was boiling mad. Then 1t sat down to read the article through. It was a work of art—well written and carefully edited. It gave my views precisely, did not misrepresent me in the slightest particular, and in fact voiced Aiy ideas in better shape than I proba-! bly could have done the work myself. I was more than pleased; I was delighted • and really felt quite relieved that the i vexed question of publicity had been settled so well. My first work after finishing the article was to send a telegram to the New York paper, thanking : its representative for the care he had shown in reporting me correctly. Pret- j ty soon a telegram was handed to me. ! It was dated New York and merely said: "To Senator Sherman: "Thank you. The elevator is running all right again today. “It bore the name of the reporter—a name I had never heard before and have never heard since. ” —Frank S. Pixley in Chicago Times-Herald.