Word: howe
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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Aphorisms like these are what made Edgar Watson Howe famed, first as editor of the Atchison, Kans. Globe, later, since his retirement 23 years ago, as editor and sole contributor to his magazine, E. W. Howe's Monthly, "Devoted to Indignation and Information." Last week, aged 80, Ed Howe composed a few more aphorisms on a new subject-his permanent and complete retirement. Said...
...final issue of E. W. Howe's Monthly, printed like a newspaper but containing nothing except the editor's personal opinions and a two-column bibliography of his books, pamphlets and anthologies, appeared last November. Whether or not he would continue writing for syndicate publication, Editor Howe, sunning his old bones in Miami, was not sure last week. To subscribers-some of whom paid $1 for life subscriptions-he planned to refund the amounts...
Like Editor Henry Louis Mencken who announced his retirement from the American Mercury last October, Ed Howe was perpetually disgruntled. Born in Treaty, Ind., educated in public schools until he went into a print shop at 12, he began the expression of his general dissatisfaction in 1877 when he founded the Atchison Globe. After a day's work in the Globe office, starting at 7 o'clock in the morning and ending at 4 o'clock when the paper was "put to bed," Editor Howe spent his evenings writing a novel which he called The Story...
...Editor Howe was tired of running a small-town daily. Said he: "People bother me. I don't know why Tom Eglinger didn't get his paper night before last and I don't want to be bothered by his complaint." By that time, the Globe was making $30,000 a year. Editor Howe sold it to his staff for $50,000, used the money to buy a farm on the Missouri River which he called Potato Hill. At Potato Hill he promptly resumed his marathon of printed discontent in E. W. Howe's Monthly...
Nicknamed by newspapers "The Sage of Potato Hill," and the "Kansas Diogenes," Ed Howe was not, as such titles suggested, a small-town Jeremiah, muttering philippic nonsense. His autobiography, Plain People, Heywood Broun called "prose of a sort to make every other journalist bite his nails with envy." The Saturday Review of Literature referred to him as the "spiritual legatee of Benjamin Franklin" because of his curt adages and his printshop background. Intelligent Kansans whom Ed Howe last week stopped rebuking for the first time in 60 years approve of him. At a dinner on the 50th anniversary...