July 24, 1916 - From generation to generation.

Here is a fun postcard from Joe on a trip he took to Atlantic City. The elephant on the card is still standing and so since my sister has a B&B in Ocean City I asked her to take a photo of Joe's great-great granddaughter in front of it.

Saw this elephant today passing in a machine.
Have been invited yachting tonight & fishing tomorrow at 5:30 a.m.
Joe

Here is Joe's great-great granddaughter standing on Lucy the elephant's foot. She is five years old.

The next latter is August 1.

July 18, 1916 -Politics is just beginning to become active.

Well as we see 100 years ago the political timeline was the same as today. I am sure that Joe could never have imagined what we are witnessing. Here is very fun letter that talks about lots of different subjects. From weight scales to politics.

July 18,1916.


My dear Helen:
There have been hot days and then some more, but to-day has seen the thermometer running up near the boiling point. And to make things worse, I too had a bet. The result added to the heat of the situation and did not cool off a bit. Last night, to start with, Doctor Rosen took me out, and along about ten or so, bet that I weighed more than he. I fell. I had an idea that he weighed about 175 or 180, and I thought the scales in New York said 165 for me. Well, we went to Riker's where they are supposed to have a new kind of an instrument, one that weighs in a new way, and I should say it did. Doctor pulled down 155 and I saw it moves along to 169. Someone is looney, that’s sure.

Still, why worry. Just read the enclosed cartoon. To add to the situation, I had to try a case to-day, that required the use of an interpreter, and it certainly did make the tem­perature climb with leaps and bounds in endeavoring to obtain a short answer to a simple question. For example, in cross-exam­ining the other side's main witness, I asked the man if he had ever bought or sold a certain kind of scales-the value among other things being in issue- and after responding to the interpreter for about ten minutes at the rate of a mile a minute, we received a little journey to a story that had as much connection with my question, that a cat's tail has to the periscope of the Deuchland. Then I had to try again and again, until the answer came; and then a new question started the thing all over again.

Of course, that prevented my going to New York this afternoon; and now am uncertain whether I can do so tomorrow. I have several things here that are peculiar in that the lawyer's on the other side are preparing to go away, and unless several matters are adjusted now, it may cause them to lay over to the Fall, which I dislike; and so must keep on the job, when they call me. But I'll probably get down Thursday, sometime in the morning, I hope.

It makes me laugh, and sometimes begin to envy the fact that you can stay around the house in negligee - as you call it-and be cool, while down here in the country, we swelter in the office.   I started to take my car out this evening, and discovered that the folks had seen it first, and are in it, probably headed for some bathing beach by now. But then, I have considerable patience, and when that runabout arrives, it will be different, believe muh.

I’ve gotten hold of a good book to-day, called "Acres of Diamonds.” It is a story of Doctor Conwell, together with his address of that same name. It reads beautifully, and is very pleasing, since I've read the address before, and even heard him deliver it himself at a Chautauqua once. Guess I'll go home early and finish it for the Fra is still unread, and "In Memoriam" has a similar story.

The old wanderlust of going out to meet my friends at the Convention next week, is just returning, and is enhanced by the daily receipt of letters from various men from different parts of the country saying that they will be there, and arrange­ments for dinners etc. are mentioned. Some come from the far west, and those fellows are looking forward to a long trip, and so make more elaborate plans in advance to make sure that they have a good time. With all the shark stories afloat, I do not know whether I will venture out to display my wonderful swimming abilities, or even bother about taking up room with my new bathing suit. But three dinner engagements have already been planned, and since we are to convene for three or perhaps four days-yes it is four- why, that end of the affair seems to have made much progress. Of course that does not include the formal banquet on Tuesday night, nor the informal dinner on Wednesday, at which there will be a re­union of the former base-ball players. Don't think that the eats bother me, not at all, but if that scale at Riker's is anywhere near the truth, the great feat will be to be present at them all, and rest content on sipping horsesnecks and eating pretzels, and calling that a banquet.

It might be advisable to take along a gas mask such as is used in Europe now, to keep the sand off my face. Don't you think sol

Politics is just beginning to become active, and in a few weeks, after the formal nominations are made, everything will be humming till after election. And it will be a really interest­ing contest, for both the nominees are clean men of fine traits, and great personalities, and it will eliminate any mudslinging and get down to the best-man-with-the-best-platform winning. It's quite interesting to watch how it begins to show the signs of life, and gradually rise up to be a big and pulsating thing, only to disappear after the election is over. It's great to see friends getting excited over how to vote and what the policies of the country ought to be, and once the issue is decided, settle right down, and endeavor to work with the winner for the good of the nation. Of course some people carry grudges, and never get over it but once elected, a man is the servant of all, not of any class. That was the trouble with the Socialist party up in Schenectady, I believe, where they ousted the mayor from the party because he could not be dictated to by them. He claimed that although elected as a Socialist, he was the mayor of the City, and was bound to act for the best interests of the City, and not the party. Notice that I am starting a political speech. Before getting further out on the sea of that subject, I’ll emulate Hubbard when he said “the best time to stop talking is just before toy tell all you know.”

Sincerely,
Joe


Here is the cartoon that Joe referred to in the body of the letter.

Joe was very worried that he would get heavy and since he was only 5'6" that was an easy thing to do.

The next letter is July 24.

July 11, 1916 - I played too much pool with your father.

Reading between the lines in the letter this is at a time when Helen's father John Rosenstein was working in Connecticut. This gave Joe an opportunity to see him and get to know him separate from the family. Sounds like they got along just fine.

July 11, 1916
Helen dear,
Of course, it's just my luck, that I played too much pool with your father, and hurt one of my eyes. I had some terrible stuff put in last night after a day of torture, and feel good again. But tomorrow, I get another treatment, and one more Friday, to make sure that the strain or whatever effect there was, is removed for good. Thus, we learn, that we are punished by our sins, not for them.

Perhaps you are aware, that it poured all forenoon, and cleared up with a warm streak that has well nigh melted me into a little puddle. And now, I'm told I must go to New Haven this evening, so take the opportunity of writing now, rather than lose the chance later.

The carton by Goldberg about the idea that might have been a good one, if the author had not forgotten it, recalls many famous speeches we have often thought of, but couldn't think of even a sour pickle when called on to speak. Some one remarked that the best after dinner speeches have been delivered in the back homeward bound. This naturally refers to the auto taxi days.

I couldn't help recalling Hubbard once saying in East Aurora that he never cared much whether people agreed with what he said, so long as it made them think; and provided they ate enough, slept regularly, and worried not at all, they would reason most generally correctly. And so this recurred when you described reading "Little Journeys" with one hand, and looking up words with the other. Isn't that a fine figure of speech?Wasn't that an inspiring story, that of old Zeller or Zelter, Goethe and the youngster?

What makes you think that in this fine weather, anyone could catch cold? Certainly I've kept out of drafts, and so am still without one.

There has been a little talk of my being in New York Friday, but it's very indefinite yet. Still, I think I could come down Saturday, provided I wasn't induced and forced to play much pool. But I'll let you know later as to that. Suffice it to say, that the poem of "The Manicure" made me laugh, for why should any one think less of women if they manicured you any more than we do of men who shave us. The secret of course is not in the touch of hands, but in that of minds, or hearts so to speak. It's a cold business proposition, just like buying a soda check, or a subway ticket.
Sincerely,
Joe

The next letter is July 18.

July 6, 1916 - At work preparing a Brief

Joe is just keeping Helen up on the daily news in his life, with a few funny lines here and there. He also mentions The Fra in reference to  his earlier letter. You have now seen the article that he is referring to.

July 6,1916.
Helen dear:
I meant to write several times since Tuesday (old stuff) but the holiday in the middle of the week tied things up so that it was impossible to do so just when the occasion arrived. Most of the week, I have been traveling around various towns in matters, and returning very late, would be so tired that I would promise to write in the morning, and then the same thing happened.
I was very glad to hear that you are planning to go away, and more so that you intend to be in New York this week. However, if in the meantime, your plans change just drop me a line to that effect; otherwise I will assume that you will remain in the big City this week, as you intimated.   My present idea is to be in New York Saturday afternoon; but it's a little too early for me to know, because my brother has not definitely decided just when he would leave for the country that day, so that if he goes early, I must re­main, otherwise I could get away,
Your long letter was a dandy, really good enough to go into The Fra, if some of the stuff they publish can get by so easily. And if as you say, it was written in a hurry, while you were being rushed, I can imagine what it would be like if you had plenty of time,
I suppose you will smile if I tell you that the subway was tied up the other evening so that train time passed, and I gave it up as a bad job to get the train; but somehow we were late in pulling out, due to the soldier trains etc. and I made connections, getting here on time after all.

There isn't much in this letter, I know, hut all day I have been at work preparing a Brief, and believe me that word is the shortest thing about it. So far it contains some seventy-five pages, and it’s about fifteen or twenty from the end; unless some new ideas arrive in the meantime. Besides for the past several weeks I have found it necessary to read several hundred oases to get sufficient material to prepare it; and after writing all day, I am all talked out, as it were. That's why women are such a success at the profession; they never could get into that position. Of course, some women.
The doctor has a new "showfur" and it's up to me to show him around here, to get him acquainted with the local atmosphere. So to-night we'll take a fifty mile ride out to see the kidlets, and listen to them sing "Madcap Marjorie”; oh no we won’t, they'll be asleep by then.
I had an appointment at 7:45 to-night, and it's that now, so must hurry to be on time.
Sincerely.
Joe

The next letter is July 11.

July 1916 - The Fra - The Harmony of Living

In the post on June 27 Joe mentioned that he was told that he had a piece published in The Fra, a monthly magazine Elbert Hubbard started publishing in 1908. I decided upon seeing this in his letter to check on the internet and see if I could find the article he wrote. I was fortunate to find a great source without much trouble. It is the Garrison House Ephemera. I emailed the site and inquired about the article and after I told them of the name of the author I received an email back saying that, in fact, one of the copies they had contained the article by Joseph G. Shapiro. I was really excited and I sensed so was the woman form the site. It was an amazing thing when it arrived in the mail a few days later and there it was the original in pristine form. The entire issue is dedicated to the memory of Elbert Hubbard who had died in the sinking of the Lusitania a year before. There are so may interesting articles to read about him and I am sure that I will do that in time. For now I am posting the front and back cover, the first article by his son Bert and the article by Joe. Elbert Hubbard II (Bert) kept Roycroft going for years after the untimely death of his father and stepmother.

 

Roycroft—July, 1916
Bert Hubbard
When Elbert Hubbard started the Roycroft Shops, in June, 1895, he did not foresee the development they were to make. Nor do we now see any lim­itation to what we shall accomplish. But for twenty years he put his heart and his abilities into the making of the institution that today stands as his monument.
Twenty years is not a very long time— unless it is in front of you. In this brief span, from a small capital to start with, there has evolved a business whose last inventory shows it to be worth consider­ably more than half a million. Many men have made many times that in half the time £•» I do not speak of this value to accentuate the accomplishment as a great financial one.
I have in mind the thought that The Roycrofters, Incorporated, is the result of putting to the practical test a man's ideals —the ideals of living, of working, of art, study, desire, environment. To have made capital out of these things, which seemingly belong to dreamers, artists, and scorners of accumulated wealth, is the great achievement
Elbert Hubbard did not set his abilities to making money as a cumulative proposi­tion. He never had any money on hand. It was always on the turn-over. He has said to me at times, when we were going over the cashbook preparatory to making up a payroll, " When we have a cash balance in the bank of twenty-five thou­sand all the time, we will rest easy." I surely thought so, but I knew we'd never have it, for nothing made my father more generous and eager to do something new, than a couple of thousand dollars in the bank m» b+
He has been criticized for his money-making propensities, but he cared nothing for money for. its own sake. He drew a personal salary of only $2,000 a year, and he always had plenty of it left over for pennies for the kiddies!
He lived a simple life and spent little money for his own pleasures. His satis­faction in being able to make money was in that he could use it to make a better and bigger Roycroft. This institution was always self-supporting. It has been created out of its own earnings. No outside capital was ever invested in it. It has no bonds, no mortgages, no preferred stock.

Just a year ago Elbert Hubbard sailed away on the Lusitania. When the unbelievable news came and the world had caught its breath, the people who knew of the Roycroft Shops looked toward East Aurora with a speculative wonder as to what was to happen. Much was said as to the probability of the Chapel becoming a home for bats; the Printshop a dungeon of darkness; the Inn a parlor of solitude; the Furniture Shop, the Copper and Leather Shops, empty chambers where rust, ruin and cobwebs would greet the chance visitor; the beautiful lawns and flowerbeds becoming pastures for patient old horses, where burdocks and thistles would hold full sway! Some had a vision of Roycroft as a flower gone to seed, a lamp out of which the oil had burned, a once busy place where now no wheels turned and no song of contented workers gladdened the long hours of the summer day. All would be quiet, still, and the breath of life would go out with the sink­ing of the sun in the west, as it cast long shadows across the playgrounds where happy children used to play. Without its master, Roycroft would become a thing in history.

But these were the visions of gossips whose blood ran thin. Their prophecies were from their own empty minds. For one month only was there any slack­ing of Roycroft industries. We needed that time and no more to govern our sorrow and find ourselves. From the 1st of July, 1915, every depart­ment of the Roycroft Shops has been working to capacity. There are more One Hundred Ten workers on the payroll than ever before. Out of the possibility of a decline we have made real progress. The Printshop is running its presses night and day to keep up. The Copper and Leather Shops can't fill their orders. This Magazine has more subscribers than it had on May 7, 1915. H, Roycroft is busy, therefore happy. There is an absolute spirit of success in its blood. We have no doubts, no fears. Our ship is sailing ahead under full rig. You can't stop us. We are bound for that port called Success. The last six months of 1915, ten thousand visitors came to the Inn. This year, double that will come. Next year, reservations will have to be made months in advance. No, I am not boasting—I'm telling you straight stuff. You should be advised of this because you are interested. The per­petuation of The Roycrofters means much more than a mere financial success. The place stands for many ideals. Elbert Hubbard's efforts are in evidence in every nook and corner. His spirit permeates the atmosphere and constantly holds out to us an inspiration to do better work and more work. Never do I see and feel the accomplishment of a job well done but that I want him to pass his judgment on it and approve. There is an everlasting desire to demonstrate that he taught us well, and that we are fitted to do things as he would have us do them.

We have gone through this first year with credit to ourselves. We have grown and broadened. Our future is clear to us. We have lots of work to do and have the heart and courage to do it. The Roycroft Shops shall live. Elbert Hubbard's finest monument shall be the institution he founded and developed. His hopes are our hopes—his joys our joys. And when he looks out upon us from his present sphere of life and sees the result of our efforts he shall say: " My work was not in vain. I helped them to help them­selves. They do me credit and I am proud of my Roycroft boys and girls."
 

THE FRA

The Harmony of Living

Joseph G. Shapiro

SEVERAL years ago Elbert Hubbard at­tended a dinner of the Board of Trade, in this City (Shelton, Conn.); and being acquainted with him, I naturally made it my business to speak to him after his talk. Though he intended spending the night at the hotel, he made such an impression on the audience that it kept him up till after one A. M. He left a call for five, for he decided to take the early train out to make connections for Buffalo; but at the last moment altered his plans, having been invited to be the guest of some people who had a private car here and were leaving for New York that night.
In order that he could get to the train with as little delay as possible, he requested me to assist him in packing his things; and the happiest five minutes of my life were spent in his room as he was taking a quick shave, while I placed his things and a large, luscious apple in his bag. I said that reading his writings had been a great source of inspiration to me, to which he replied, “Perhaps I may have attuned some lives to the harmony of living, but it is up to the individual to compose and play his own symphony." Isn't that exactly the reason for his greatness? And as I read The Fra today it seems to have the same spirit.

Sublime thoughts and great deeds are the children of married minds. A man alone is only half a man—it takes a man and a woman to complete the circuit.





The next letter will be July 6.