MILLIONAIRE FOR A DAY

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LIV, Issue 215, 9 March 1912, Page 7

MILLIONAIRE FOR A DAY

MINER THROWS AWAY MONEY BROADCAST. New York, January IG. In spite of the zero weather, the country has been laughing at the behaviour of the Irishman, Jay McDevitt, of Wilkesbarre, a miner, whom the entire American Press has nicknamed the "millionaire for a day." He says politicians bribed him with 2500 dollars to withdraw his candidature at the local elections. The money was not his, so he decided to spend all within 26 hours. He hired a special train, appointed a physician and a private secretary, engaged a valet, and succeeded in attracting an incredible amount of public attention. "This is no advertising game," he said, "I'm simply going to prove that anybody with plenty of spectacular bluff can capture New York." Newspaper reporters by the score begged to accompany him. He played the host to all of them on the train, treating them to whisky and. wine to their heart's content. He touched nothing but ginger-ale himself, but the Pressmen developed a thirst worthy of Park Row (the Meet street of New York), and their printed stories yesterday and today colored the whole aontinent inglyMcDevitt engaged a suite of rooms at the Waldorf-Astoria, scattered dollar tips to every page boy and hotel servant who crossed his path, had to ask his private secretary to translate the Waldorf menu, attended the theatre, where he was invited on to the stage and made a foolish speech, which was rapturously applauded, and insisted on having a bath in milk because he understood millionaires did so.

Interviewed in bed, surrounded by feverish photographers and industrious caricaturists, lie delivered! himself of the following wittieisms: "Last night I had five waiters serving me champagne. I never drink a drop, but millionaires buy fizz, and friends sprang up from nowhere delighted to show me how. Guess I'll put my blamed old native town on the map before I'm through. Why, one of your music halls has already offered me a thousand dollars just to appear and tell stories. I scorned the suggestion just as Carnegie would. I was a reporter once on a Pennsylvania paper sent to cover a social affair; met lots of people I knew; wrote a column of truthful gossip; next day when I saw the stuff in print I went on a little trip. The editor wanted to discharge me, but I was nowhere to be found, so lie had a long line put across the first page, 'McDevitt, you are fired.'" One music hall offered to give a performance with McDevitt as the sole occupant of the house. He declined, saying he had no wish to make an ass of himself. He had his hands manicured, made countless speeches to every group that collected round him, threw silver among the crowds, borrowed a hundred dollars, and returned to Wilkesbarre to-day "stony broke." To-day's Sun devoted a solemn editorial oh "Our McDevitt."

"Laugh at him if you choose," says the Sun. "He is probably laughing at you, for he is playing the favorite role of the American millionaire. Spend vulgarly, tip monstrously, live in royal suites, and wash your feet in champagne. Maybe somebody has subsidised McDevitt to satirise our ambitions."