Question of Latitude , livre ebook

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pubOne.info present you this new edition. Of the school of earnest young writers at whom the word muckraker had been thrown in opprobrium, and by whom it had been caught up as a title of honor, Everett was among the younger and less conspicuous. But, if in his skirmishes with graft and corruption he had failed to correct the evils he attacked, from the contests he himself had always emerged with credit. His sincerity and his methods were above suspicion. No one had caught him in misstatement, or exaggeration. Even those whom he attacked, admitted he fought fair. For these reasons, the editors of magazines, with the fear of libel before their eyes, regarded him as a "safe" man, the public, feeling that the evils he exposed were due to its own indifference, with uncomfortable approval, and those he attacked, with impotent anger. Their anger was impotent because, in the case of Everett, the weapons used by their class in "striking back" were denied them. They could not say that for money he sold sensations, because it was known that a proud and wealthy parent supplied him with all the money he wanted

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Publié par	Pub One Info
Date de parution	06 novembre 2010
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9782819934844
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0050€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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A QUESTION OF LATITUDE
By Richard Harding Davis
Of the school of earnest young writers at whom theword muckraker had been thrown in opprobrium, and by whom it hadbeen caught up as a title of honor, Everett was among the youngerand less conspicuous. But, if in his skirmishes with graft andcorruption he had failed to correct the evils he attacked, from thecontests he himself had always emerged with credit. His sincerityand his methods were above suspicion. No one had caught him inmisstatement, or exaggeration. Even those whom he attacked,admitted he fought fair. For these reasons, the editors ofmagazines, with the fear of libel before their eyes, regarded himas a “safe” man, the public, feeling that the evils he exposed weredue to its own indifference, with uncomfortable approval, and thosehe attacked, with impotent anger. Their anger was impotent because,in the case of Everett, the weapons used by their class in“striking back” were denied them. They could not say that for moneyhe sold sensations, because it was known that a proud and wealthyparent supplied him with all the money he wanted. Nor in hisprivate life could they find anything to offset his attacks uponthe misconduct of others. Men had been sent to spy upon him, andwomen to lay traps. But the men reported that his evenings werespent at his club, and, from the women, those who sent them learnedonly that Everett “treats a lady just as though she IS a lady.”
Accordingly, when, with much trumpeting, he departedto investigate conditions in the Congo, there were some whorejoiced.
The standard of life to which Everett was accustomedwas high. In his home in Boston it had been set for him by a fatherand mother who, though critics rather than workers in the world,had taught him to despise what was mean and ungenerous, to writethe truth and abhor a compromise. At Harvard he had interestedhimself in municipal reform, and when later he moved to New York,he transferred his interest to the problems of that city. Hisattack upon Tammany Hall did not utterly destroy that organization,but at once brought him to the notice of the editors. By them hewas invited to tilt his lance at evils in other parts of the UnitedStates, at “systems, ” trusts, convict camps, municipal misrule.His work had met with a measure of success that seemed to justifyLowell's Weekly in sending him further afield, and he now was onhis way to tell the truth about the Congo. Personally, Everett wasa healthy, clean-minded enthusiast. He possessed all of theadvantages of youth, and all of its intolerance. He was supposed tobe engaged to Florence Carey, but he was not. There was, however,between them an “understanding, ” which understanding, as Everettunderstood it, meant that until she was ready to say, “I am ready,” he was to think of her, dream of her, write love-letters to her,and keep himself only for her. He loved her very dearly, and,having no choice, was content to wait. His content was fortunate,as Miss Carey seemed inclined to keep him waiting indefinitely.
Except in Europe, Everett had never travelledoutside the limits of his own country. But the new land towardwhich he was advancing held no terrors. As he understood it, theCongo was at the mercy of a corrupt “ring. ” In every part of theUnited States he had found a city in the clutch of a corrupt ring.The conditions would be the same, the methods he would use to getat the truth would be the same, the result for reform would be thesame.
The English steamer on which he sailed forSouthampton was one leased by the Independent State of the Congo,and, with a few exceptions, her passengers were subjects of KingLeopold. On board, the language was French, at table the men sataccording to the rank they held in the administration of thejungle, and each in his buttonhole wore the tiny silver star thatshowed that for three years, to fill the storehouses of the King ofthe Belgians, he had gathered rubber and ivory. In the smoking-roomEverett soon discovered that passengers not in the service of thatking, the English and German officers and traders, held aloof fromthe Belgians. Their attitude toward them seemed to be one partly ofcontempt, partly of pity.
“Are your English protectorates on the coast, then,so much better administered? ” Everett asked.
The English Coaster, who for ten years in Nigeriahad escaped fever and sudden death, laughed evasively.
“I have never been in the Congo, ” he said. “Onlyknow what they tell one. But you'll see for yourself. That is, ” headded, “you'll see what they want you to see. ”
They were leaning on the rail, with their eyesturned toward the coast of Liberia, a gloomy green line againstwhich the waves cast up fountains of foam as high as the cocoanutpalms. As a subject of discussion, the coaster seemed anxious toavoid the Congo.
“It was there, ” he said, pointing, “the ThreeCastles struck on the rocks. She was a total loss. So were herpassengers, ” he added. “They ate them. ”
Everett gazed suspiciously at the unmoved face ofthe veteran.
“WHO ate them? ” he asked guardedly. “Sharks? ”
“The natives that live back of that shore-line inthe lagoons. ”
Everett laughed with the assurance of one for whom atrap had been laid and who had cleverly avoided it.
“Cannibals, ” he mocked. “Cannibals went out of datewith pirates.

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