So do I ever, leagues and leagues away,
So do I ever, wandering where I may,
Sing, O my home! sing, O my home! of thee.
“That brings you up to Chicago, doesn’t it?”
“In 1883 Melville Stone asked me to join him on the ‘News,’ and I did. Since then my life has been uneventful.”
“I might not think so. Did you establish the column ‘Sharps and Flats’ at once?”
“Yes. I told Stone I’d write a good deal of musical matter, and the name seemed appropriate. We tried to change it several times, but no go.”
“I first saw your work in the ‘News.’ I was attracted by your satirical studies of Chicago. I don’t always like what you write, but I liked your war against sham.”
Field became serious at once, and leaned towards the other man in an attitude of great earnestness. The deepest note in the man’s voice came out. “I hate a sham or a fraud; not so much a fraud, for a fraud means brains very often, but a sham makes me mad clear through,” he said savagely. His fighting quality came out in the thrust of the chin. Here was the man whom the frauds and shams fear.