He could
forecast the kind of small city newspaper that Smith would make;
careful, conscientious, regular in politics, loyal to what it deemed the
best interests of the community, single-minded in its devotion to the
Smith family and its properties; colorless, characterless, and without
vision or leadership in all that a newspaper should, according to
Banneker's opinion, stand for. So he talked with the fervor of an
enthusiast, a missionary, a devotee, who saw in that daily chronicle of
the news an agency to stir men's minds and spur their thoughts, if need
be, to action; at the same time the mechanism and instrument of power,
of achievement, of success. Fentriss Smith listened and was troubled in
spirit by these unknown fires. He had supposed respectability to be the
final aim and end of a sound newspaper tradition.
The apparent intimacy which had sprung up between twenty-five-dollar
Smith and the reserved, almost hermit-like Banneker was the subject of
curious and amused commentary in The Ledger office. Mallory hazarded a
humorous guess that Banneker was tutoring Smith in the finer arts of
journalism, which was not so far amiss as its proponent might have
supposed.
The Great Heat broke several evenings later in a drench of rain and
wind.
Pages:
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321