第68章 Meeting a Reverse or Two (3)

Still, negotiate it he must and he did! And after luncheon in the garden, with the cat in his lap, Miss Greenaway perceptibly thawed out, and when the editor left late that afternoon he had the promise of the artist that she would do her first magazine work for him.That promise was kept monthly, and for nearly two years her articles appeared, with satisfaction to Miss Greenaway and with great success to the magazine.

The next opposition to Bok's plans arose from the soreness generated by the absence of copyright laws between the United States and Great Britain and Europe.The editor, who had been publishing a series of musical compositions, solicited the aid of Sir Arthur Sullivan.But it so happened that Sir Arthur's most famous composition, "The Lost Chord,"had been taken without leave by American music publishers, and sold by the hundreds of thousands with the composer left out on pay-day.Sir Arthur held forth on this injustice, and said further that no accurate copy of "The Lost Chord" had, so far as he knew, ever been printed in the United States.Bok saw his chance, and also an opportunity for a little Americanization.

"Very well, Sir Arthur," suggested Bok; "with your consent, I will rectify both the inaccuracy and the injustice.Write out a correct version of 'The Lost Chord'; I will give it to nearly a million readers, and so render obsolete the incorrect copies; and I shall be only too happy to pay you the first honorarium for an American publication of the song.You can add to the copy the statement that this is the first American honorarium you have ever received, and so shame the American publishers for their dishonesty."This argument appealed strongly to the composer, who made a correct transcript of his famous song, and published it with the following note:

"This is the first and only copy of "The Lost Chord" which has ever been sent by me to an American publisher.I believe all the reprints in America are more or less incorrect.I have pleasure in sending this copy to my friend, Mr.Edward W.Bok, for publication in The Ladies' Home Journal for which he gives me an honorarium, the only one I have ever received from an American publisher for this song.

"Arthur Sullivan."

At least, thought Bok, he had healed one man's soreness toward America.

But the next day he encountered another.On his way to Paris, he stopped at Amiens to see Jules Verne.Here he found special difficulty in that the aged author could not speak English, and Bok knew only a few words of casual French.Finally a neighbor's servant who knew a handful of English words was commandeered, and a halting three-cornered conversation was begun.

Bok found two grievances here: the author was incensed at the American public because it had insisted on classing his books as juveniles, and accepting them as stories of adventure, whereas he desired them to be recognized as prophetic stories based on scientific facts--an insistence which, as all the world knows, has since been justified.Bok explained, however, that the popular acceptance of the author's books as stories of adventure was by no means confined to America; that even in his own country the same was true.But Jules Verne came back with the rejoinder that if the French were a pack of fools, that was no reason why the Americans should also be.

The argument weighed somewhat with the author, however, for he then changed the conversation, and pointed out how he had been robbed by American publishers who had stolen his books.So Bok was once more face to face with the old non-copyright conditions; and although he explained the existence then of a new protective law, the old man was not mollified.He did not take kindly to Bok's suggestion for new work, and closed the talk, extremely difficult to all three, by declaring that his writing days were over.

But Bok was by no means through with non-copyright echoes, for he was destined next day to take part in an even stormier interview on the same subject with Alexander Dumas fils.Bok had been publishing a series of articles in which authors had told how they had been led to write their most famous books, and he wanted Dumas to tell "How I Came to Write 'Camille.'"To act as translator this time, Bok took a trusted friend with him, whose services he found were needed, as Dumas was absolutely without knowledge of English.No sooner was the editor's request made known to him than the storm broke.Dumas, hotly excited, denounced the Americans as robbers who had deprived him of his rightful returns on his book and play, and ended by declaring that he would trust no American editor or publisher.

The mutual friend explained the new copyright conditions and declared that Bok intended to treat the author honorably.But Dumas was not to be mollified.He launched forth upon a new arraignment of the Americans;dishonesty was bred in their bones! and they were robbers by instinct.

All of this distinctly nettled Bok's Americanism.The interpreting friend finally suggested that the article should be written while Bok was in Paris; that he should be notified when the manuscript was ready, that he should then appear with the actual money in hand in French notes; and that Dumas should give Bok the manuscript when Bok handed Dumas the money.

"After I count it," said Dumas.

This was the last straw!

"Pray ask him," Bok suggested to the interpreter, "what assurance I have that he will deliver the manuscript to me after he has the money." The friend protested against translating this thrust, but Bok insisted, and Dumas, not knowing what was coming, insisted that the message be given him.When it was, the man was a study; he became livid with rage.

"But," persisted Bok, "say to Monsieur Dumas that I have the same privilege of distrusting him as he apparently has of distrusting me."And Bok can still see the violent gesticulations of the storming French author, his face burning with passionate anger, as the two left him.