Curmudgeon's Dudgeon

As many a publisher and "calumnist" knows, Harold L. Ickes likes nothing better than a good tiff with the press. Last week, at his farewell press conference, the durable Old Curmudgeon could not resist tossing out a last challenge. Rashly, chubby I. F. ("Izzy") Stone, of the Nation and Manhattan's hyperthyroid PM, gobbled the bait.

A reporter asked the old New Dealer about his plans. "I ain't got any," said Ickes. Then, peering archly over his Steel rims, he voiced a second thought: "I am going to join the crusading PM, I think, to see whether I can crusade and still tell the truth."

Izzy Stone rose like a trout. Just five days before, Stone had written that some of Ickes' own aides were as deep in oil as Ed Pauley. "Mr. Secretary," he said darkly, "would you mind amplifying that remark about PM?"

"Your column," Ickes barked, "was not only psychopathic, it was untruthful."

"Mr. Secretary," Stone shouted, "you can't brush me off that way!"

"I'm not trying to brush you off," Ickes retorted. Later Stone came back for more: "Mr. Ickes, I'd like to ask one more question. You have been for 13 years in office and most of us have generally been puzzled. . . ."

Ickes, a rude man, interrupted: "I think you are always puzzled. That is one of your troubles. You are in a continuous state of puzzlement."

Next day, in print, Reporter Stone had the last word: ". . . Ickes made a characteristically ill-tempered, vindictive and personal attack on the writer. . . . But . . . he's certainly the ablest Secretary of the Interior we've ever had." It was doubtful if the coal of fire even warmed the Curmudgeon's tough hide.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.