ale Union.

"Yes, he is, rather," I answered.

"Well," he added, "I suppose we will have to take our chances." The
chances seemed small then; they loomed up larger later.

He hoped President Hadley would not interfere with him.

"Will you introduce him, Doctor?"

"Certainly."

"What's his topic?"

"He calls it 'The Coming Crisis.'"

"Social, I suppose, eh?"

"Yes, it's a suggested remedy for a lot of our troubles."

The Socialist student had a few rounds with Lee McClung, the Yale
treasurer. "Mac" didn't know Irvine from a gate-post but took Billy
Phelps's word for it that London was a literary man and let it go at
that--let the hall go, I mean.

"Yale," said the brilliant Phelps, "is a university, and not a
monastery; besides, Jack London is one of the most distinguished men
in America."

When it was decided we could have the hall the advertising began.
Streets, shops and factories were bombarded with printed
announcements. Next morning--the morning after securing the hall--Yale
official and unofficial awoke to find tacked to every tree on the
campus the inscription, "Jack London at Woolsey Hall."

Max Dellfant painted a flaming poster that gripped men by the eyes. In
it London appeared in a red sweater and in the background the lurid
glare of a great conflagration. Yale and New Haven had never been so
thoroughly informed on such short notice. The information was in red
letters.

The first thing done was to run down the officers of the Yale Union.
They had previously run each other down. The boys were thoroughly
scared, explanations were in order all around.

The wiseacres of Yale got busy and the new Yale took a hand also.
Professor Charles Foster Kent--the Henry Drummond of Yale--and
Professor William Lyon Phelps counselled a square deal and fair play.

The Yale Union had a stormy meeting. A real sensation was on their
hands; there was possible censure and probable glory and every man in
the Union went after his share.

It was indignantly moved and carried that the president of the Union
introduce the speaker.

"Irvine is a Socialist," the mover said, "and would spoil the show
before it began."

[Illustration: Alexander Irvine and Jack London, 1906]

They next discussed the topic. One boy suggested that London be asked
to cut out all mention of Socialism. That was tabooed because no one
knew that he would mention it anyway.

The day of the lecture I got this note from the Socialist studen