EVENING SPIDERS
The two champions

So Jack Dempsey would have accepted "two million" to come and defend his champion title in France against Paolino's companies. Two million, don't you think that's a lot for a boxer? Oh! I know what one might object: not all ring workers are so royally paid; Dempsey is, until proven otherwise, the best boxer in the world and he is today reaping the fruits of his stubborn labor, the benefit of extraordinary luck.
All this being admitted, it remains to be seen whether the best cook, the best surgeon, the best philosopher, the most brilliant inventor in the world earn two million so easily. No, probably not, because humanity, which believes itself to have reached maturity, is still at an awkward age. Like all children, she loves infinitely more the one who amuses or surprises her than those whose zeal strives to feed her, care for her, educate her and ensure her future.
And this is why the world champion of letters, who has just died at the age of eighty, after an exceptionally brilliant career, has never known in his own country the fortune and popularity of Jack Dempsey, nor even of Mr. Georges Carpentier

Bernard GERVAISE.