Tales of the Long Bow
If Crane leaves off being shocked, what are we to do?"
"I know what we want," began Pierce excitedly.
"So do I," interrupted Hood. "We want a sane man."
"Not so easy to find nowadays," said the old soldier. "Going to advertise?"
"I mean a stupid man," explained Owen Hood. "I mean a man who's conventional all through, not a humbug like Crane. I mean, I want a solid, serious, business man, a hard-headed, practical man of affairs, a man to whom vast commercial interests are committed. In a word, I want a fool; some beautiful, rounded, homogeneous fool, in whose blameless face, as in a round mirror, all our fancies may really be reflected and renewed. I want a very successful man, a very wealthy man, a man———"
"I know! I know!" cried young Pierce, almost waving his arms. "Enoch Oates!"
"Who's Enoch Oates? "inquired White.
"Are the lords of the world so little known?" asked Hood. "Enoch Oates is Pork, and nearly everything else; Enoch Oates is turning civilization into one vast sausage-machine. Didn't I ever tell you how Hilary ran into him over that pig affair?"
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