Man Behind the Pipe

In the town of Marietta, Ohio, is situated Marietta College. There last week the class of 1884 was holding its 40th reunion. Naturally since a big Convention was going on at Cleveland, there was some listening in by radio. Several members of '84 were at it. After a hot roll-call, the Republican nominee for Vice President was announced. It was one of those very Marietta '84s who were listening in. And he exclaimed picturesquely: "Well, I declare!"

Charles Gates Dawes has a certain hold on the imagination of the nation. The reasons for it are fairly obvious when one examines his record. The fact of it was observable as soon as his nomination was announced. In a short time he had issued a brief acceptance.

Congratulations began to pour in at the Dawes homestead (in Marietta). He stayed there less than 24 hours after his nomination and then started for Chicago, which welcomed him with cheers. His wife and his two adopted children, Dana, 12 and Virginia, 10, met him. He hugged them all, went to his office at the Central Trust Co. for an hour, then went home to Evanston, puritanical northern suburb of Chicago, to which Mr. Dawes is something of a tin deity.

Very patently to capture the imagination of Evanston, Mr. Dawes has attractions other than his now famous trick pipe and loud vocabulary.

He is, for example, a descendant of one William Dawes who emigrated from England in 1635. Another William Dawes, one of his ancestors, was a companion of Paul Revere in the famous equestrian escapade near Boston. In 1865 he was born, in Marietta, son of General Rufus R. Dawes commander of the Iron Brigade of Wisconsin. He worked his way through Marietta College as chief engineer of a small railroad in Ohio. He graduated from the Cincinnati Law School. Then he began to move -- law practice in Lincoln, Neb. -- presidency Lacrosse Gas Light & Coke Co. -- presidency Northwestern Gas Light & Coke Co. -- appointment (at 29) as Comptroller of the Currency under McKinley -- founding of the Central Trust Co. (Chicago) -- commission as Major in the engineers (1917) -- Pur chasing Agent for the A. E. F.* -- the Congressional War investigations (in which he made his famous "Helen Maria" remarks) -- advocacy of the Versailles Treaty and the League of Nations -- Director of the Budget -- "Dawes' report" on reparations. . . .

His published works include The Banking System of the United States (1894), Journal of the Great War (1920), The First Year of the Budget (1922), Melody in A Major which was played by Fritz Kreisler for some time before its author was known.

In private life he presents still another side. In memory of his father he established in Chicago hotels where the down-and-out might get both bed and breakfast. Of his two children (aside from his adopted ones) his daughter, Carolyn, is married. The other, Rufus Fearing, was drowned in 1912 in Lake Geneva, Wis., just after being graduated from Princeton. At the funeral was read a eulogy of the boy--a son who in many ways took after his father-- which Mr. Dawes himself had written. It contained some illuminating passages:

"The truly great character must unite unusual strength and determination with great gentleness. My boy was imperious. He recognized no superior on earth, and yet was the tender and intimate friend of the weak and humble.

"I have taken him with me among the greatest in the nation and looked in vain for any evidence in him of awe, or of curiosity. He has taken me, asking me to help them, among the poor and lowly of earth.

"He commenced early in life to set himself against the crowd, for no man rises to real prestige who follows it. Of his own initiative he joined the Church. For a long time he taught a Bible class at Bethesda Mission. He did not smoke, nor swear, nor drink. He was absolutely clean. Yet in his stern opposition to the drift, he mingled tolerance in just that quantity which contributed to real power to be used in opposition, and for that purpose alone.

"He died suddenly in the midst of happiness. He died with all his ideals unlowered. He died with all the noble illusions of a high-minded youth undisturbed and undispelled. He died without having lost ambition, with his eyes fixed on the high mountains of life, where, beyond any question, had he lived, he would have climbed.

"But, dear young friends of my boy, he had already climbed the high and rough ways which lead up the steep mountains of character. . . ."

* He wasn't a soldier. He was caught wearing garters under his puttees. On one formal occasion General Pershing had to send General Harbord to him, with a request to button his coat, one of the customs of the Army.