“Our acquaintance had extended over a rounded period of an even quarter of a century when this good man was called to his reward. When, as a green country boy from the backwoods with hayseed—lots of it—in my hair, I went to Indianapolis in 1892 to get a job on a newspaper, Mr. Kern took a friendly interest in me. Perhaps he thought I needed some attention; at any rate from that time to the hour of his death he was a true and loyal friend. He was even then a leader at the bar, and with the passing of Thomas A. Hendricks he easily held first rank as the most popular Democrat in Indiana. His office on North Pennsylvania street, Indianapolis, was a mecca for Democrats from every nook and corner of the state. I remember him as a tall, slender distinguished-looking man with jet black whiskers, worn much longer than the style of beard he affected in later years.
“About that time the Indianapolis National Bank blew up, precipitating a train of sensations that shook the foundations of the state. Mr. Kern, who was in all the big cases in those days, was appointed attorney for the receiver of the bank. I was assigned by The Indianapolis Sun to cover the developments, and, speaking in the vernacular, it certainly was ‘some’ job for a cub reporter. I think I must have driven Federal Judges Baker and Woods nearly crazy trying to extract some news from the court, for I even called on them at their homes at unseemly hours, and if I had been a sophisticated reporter and they had not possessed a benevolent disposition they probably would have haled me up for contempt of court for some of the irregularities I committed. Mr. Kern was my particular prey. On one occasion, after I had had the boots scooped off me by a virile opposition, I went to Mr. Kern, determined that henceforth not the slightest atom of news about that bank failure should escape me.
“‘There isn’t any news to-day; not a bit in the world,’ he told me.
“‘Well,’ I said, making my last stand, ‘have you heard any rumors?’
“Mr. Kern often told me in after years that, considering all the circumstances, my positiveness and the comical way I spoke, that was the funniest question ever put to him. He never got over it. The last time I called on him for news at his office in the
federal capitol he looked up from behind a stack of letters and said, quizzically:
“‘Any rumors to-day?’