Favorites [antikvár]

Forewcord Ask any of us who jot down notes for the various Jt\, gazettes in New York our idea of a big-time, first-rate, Grade-A reporter—and eleven times out of ten, the retort will be "Dämon Runyon!" Because, ámong other things, Runyon is the most exciting and spellbinding of historians—whether his assignment is the Kentucky Derby, the Madison Square Garden farces, the cur-rent murder mystery, or the sitchee-ay-shun in ther Orient. Dämon, I mean to report, (oh, get y our story in the first paragraph, Winchell!) possesses ali the necessary attributes that go to make the guy the rest of us on the staff wish we were. He has that manner about him, for one thing. He looks like a star newspaperman—not anything like the counter-feiters you've witnessed in the editorial rooms of the newspaper in the kodak amusements. (7 don't mean you, Lee Tracy!) He was content, until recently, it appears, to rest on his laureis as a sports chronicler for the more widely read journals throughout the country. When you discussed sports and sports experts—you naturally discussed Damon Runyon. You'd think a fellow who enjoyed that distinction would let it go at that. Then suddenly like an old Dempsey left hook—he startled his best critics and severest friends with magazine articles. The sort that not only were read and enjoyed, but the sort that tilted circulation. From these delightfully comical stories about Broadway, the prize ring and the banditti—embroidered in a language rich with style—came a book by Damon called "Guys and Dolls." Yet—with ali the grand pieces Damon has done for the editors—I suspect he will never be forgottén for his thrilling document on Sande, the jockey of his time. The one line in it 1