It happened that somewhere about the beginning of this century I was invited to prepare for a New York newspaper syndicate a series of satirical biographies of prominent personages of the day. The series was called "Who's What and Why in America." I was doing a great deal of other work at the time, and the managers of the syndicate fell in readily with my expressed view that lest my name should seem to appear too frequently, and in too many competing quarters, it would be best that for this venture I should use a pseudonym. I therefore did the work over the pen name of Wilberforce Jenkins. The series was very well received, and for over a year was one of the most popular syndicate features running, as a result of which Wilberforce Jenkins began to receive a great many letters from a great many people—so many as almost to make me personally jealous of his growing fame. Among other communications received was one from Major Pond, which ran somewhat like this:
New York, March 12, 1901.
Wilberforce Jenkins, Esq.
Dear Sir.—I have been reading with a great deal of interest your sparkling biographies of the Men of To-day in the New York "Blank." I don't want to flatter you, but you have more real humor in your thumb than all the rest of the funny men of the day rolled into one have in their million and a half fingers. Have you ever considered the desirability of using your gifts on the lecture platform? If you have, let me know. If you can talk half as well as you write, you will be a winner. Come and see me some day and talk it over. I think we can do business together.
Very truly yours, James B. Pond.
The situation was too rich to neglect, and I resolved to have a little innocent fun with the major. I repaired almost immediately to the telephone and rang him up. The connection made, I inquired:
"Is this Major Pond?"
"Yes," was the reply. "Who are you?"
"Major J. B. Pond of the Pond Lyceum Bureau?" I continued.
"Yes, I'm Major Pond. Who's this talking?" he answered.