DAY by day the Count and I became better acquainted. We went everywhere together. In the course of two seasons we became familiar with the ideas of Gunsaulus, Arthur Morrow Lewis, Emma Goldman, Professor Hoxie, and the group around William Vaughn Moody at the "Cliff Dwellers." We made the acquaintance of the rough-and-ready free-lance orators at "Bughouse Square" near the Newberry Library on the Near North Side. On the whole, it was an unforgettable experience for me.
One day the Count took me over to 56 Fifth Avenue to meet Charles H. Kerr, translator of the "Internationale" and publisher of the International Socialist Review. He was very friendly, a quiet, studious gentleman with sensitive features, small Vandyke beard, and the forehead of a philosopher. His father was then professor emeritus of Greek literature at the University of Wisconsin. Charles Kerr took an interest in me from the start. He guided me in my studies of socialism, science, and history. He also gave me my first coaching in public speaking. John P. Altgeld's Art of Oratory was used as the textbook. I became a stock‐ holder in the Co-operative Publishing Company by purchasing a ten-dollar share. As time went on, I became more and more closely bound up with that company. A few years later, on my twenty‐ first birthday, I replaced Seymour Stedman on the board of directors, an event which was heralded as a victory for the "red" faction in the Socialist party.
The Count had a way about him. The first time I took him home with me he won the hearts of everyone, including my father. My mother had cooked one of her "special" Sunday dinners. The Count's infectious enthusiasm and rare sense of humor made the general conversation sparkle. Dad was somewhat stunned by the deluge of what he called "highfalutin'" words