The story of the Sun, New York, 1833-1918 / by Frank M. O'Brien.

250

THE STORY OF "THE SUN"

bird of wisdom remains by inertia on top of the revolving bookcase, just as it would have remained there
if it had been a stuffed cat or a statuette of "Folly."
Unnoticed and probably long ago forgotten by the proprietor, the owl solemnly boxes the compass as Mr.
Dana swings the case, reaching in quick succession for
his Bible, his Portuguese dictionary, his compendium
of botanical terms, or his copy of the Democratic national platform of 1892. On the mantelpiece is an ugly,
feather-haired little totem figure from Alaska, which
likewise keeps its place solely by possession. It stands
between a photograph of Chester A. Arthur, whom Mr.
Dana liked and admired as a man of the world, and the
japanned calendar-case which has shown him the time
of year for the last quarter of a century. A dingy
chromolithograph of Prince von Bismarck stands shoulder to shoulder with George, the Count Joannes.
The same mingling of sentiment and pure accident
marks the rest of Mr. Dana's picture-gallery. There is
a large and excellent photograph of Horace Greeley,
who is held in half-affectionate, half-humorous remembrance by his old associate in the management of the
Tribune. Another is of the late Justice Blatchford,
of the United States Supreme Court; it is the strong
face of the fearless judge whose decision from the Federal bench in New York twenty years ago blocked the
attempt to drag Mr. Dana before a servile little court
in Washington to be tried without a jury on the charge
of criminal libel, at the time when the Sun was demolishing the District Ring.
Over the mantel is Abraham Lincoln. There are pictures of the four Harper brothers and of the Appletons.
Andrew Jackson is there twice, once in black and white,
once in vivid colors. An inexpensive Thomas Jefferson
faces the livelier Jackson. A framed diploma certifies
that Mr. Dana was one of several gentlemen who presented to the State a portrait in oils of Samuel J. Tilden. On different sides of the room are William T.
Coleman, the organizer of the San Francisco Vigilantes,
and a crude colored print of the Haifa colony at the
foot of Mount Carmel in Syria. Strangest of all in this