Annie Fellows Johnston Scrapbook
Newspaper “Clippings” 1917
Town Crier Made Famous.
George Washington Ready, of Provincetown, a Figure In Mrs. Johnston’s New Book.
Louisville Post January 6, 1917
The fame of George Washington Ready, the old and retired town crier of Provincetown, has spread far beyond the limits of that quiet art colony and fish mart at the tip of old Cape Cod: Annie Fellows Johnston’s new book, “Georgina, of the Rainbows,” has made of him a principal character, so important indeed that the bosom of Mr. Ready may well heave in cheerful content at the kindly fiction that has been written around him. Mr. Ready is now in semi-retirement, for old age has come at last, but the town crier, as institution, still survives in Provincetown through the more youthful efforts of Walter Smith, who how rings the big bell along main thoroughfares and shouts the lost pocket book, the fish auction, the death of a citizen, or the birth of a child. Once in a while in fair weather during the summer months Mr. Ready takes the bell in hand. for a day, and at such times he is the recipient of many cordial hand shakes and good wishes from fellow-townsmen, and also from the hosts of summer visitors who come tumbling in upon the peace and quiet of artists. One of the best things he does for the artistic element is to toll away the groups which gather about the artists and their easels to the destruction of inspiration and execution. All he has to do is to clang his bell and shout the news and the good-natured crowd trails in behind to follow him along the boardwalks of the quaint little city. Provincetown, primitive and steadfast to old ideals, is the only place now on the map which boasts a town crier.
Louisville Courier-Journal March 12, 1917
The perennial popularity, of Mrs. Johnston’s books for young people was newly attested last week by the receipt of the following letter addressed to the literary editor from a young girl of Baltimore:
“Having read over and over again the ‘Little Colonel’ stories by Annie Fellows Johnston, I have often thought that a good many things connected with these wonderful books were real. I trust that I am not asking too much of your wonderful paper and its literary editor in asking of you some information in regard to whether or not there does exist near Louisville such a place as Pewee Valley, the Anchorage or the like. And if so, is there any house or estate existing known in the story as ‘Locust.’ This is referred to in the story as the home of a certain Col. Lloyd.
“I have heard that such places did exist in Kentucky at one time, and it would interest myself and a number of my girl friends to hear if any place, any house or anything of interest in any way connected with the ‘Little Colonel’ stories still can be seen. If so, I believe my father would take me to see them.”
The Author of the “Little .Colonel” Is Popular Everywhere.
Louisville Post, March 17, 1917
A GENTLEMAN, recently returned from a tour in the South, related an interesting story of an experience in New Orleans.
Some research work, which he is doing, associated him with a number of libraries, both public and private.
In the home of a New Orleans gentleman, who had extended the invitation to look over his extensive library, the Louisville gentleman was gratified to observe, in a wing of the library devoted to literature for the children of the family, a complete set of Annie Fellows Johnston’s books.
“I am glad to see your appreciation of our Louisville author,” remarked the gentleman to his hostess who was showing him about the room. And inviting him to feel perfectly at home.
“Do you know Mrs. Johnston?” asked the lady.
Being answered in the affirmative, she said, “My little girl will be so pleased. She has written to the author, but will wish to know many things about her personality.”
The next afternoon, when the gentleman had concluded an hour or two of study from a volume of history, his hostess appeared with a group of girls, all wishing to hear of the beloved author.
“As a matter of fact, I have not a very intimate acquaintance with the author myself,” said the gentleman in telling the story, “but she had autographed copies of her books for me.— I had had chats with her a few times — and knew considerable in a general way of her, so I bluffed it out, for I could not disappoint a bunch of kiddies, who thought because I lived in the same town with Mrs. Johnston I ought to know all about her. I told them everything of interest I could think of in connection with her, and they seemed to be satisfied.”
GEORGINA
New York Times, November 12, 1917
GEORGINE OF THE RAINBOWS By Annie Fellows Johnston Britton Publishing Company. $1.25 net.
We must confess that, in spite of the authorship of “Georgina of the Rainbows,” its title and its portrait of a particularly winsome child filled us with alarm lest Mrs. Johnston had added another case to the prevalent epidemic of infantile radioactivity — an epidemic which makes one turn with relief even to Elsie Dinsmore and her tears. But we should not have doubted the creator of “the Little Colonel.” she is too true to life and to art to produce an, impossibly perfect and all-transforming child. Georgina is as human as she is delightful, and, instead of converting her little world, she is the natural result of her surrounding influences. Her one conscious attempt to “uplift” is beautifully nipped in the bud by the suffering Mrs. Triplett whom she exhorts to the cheerful endurance of lumbago. Heartily are we in accord with the good woman’s reply to the well-meant advice.
Deliver me from people who make it their business in life always to act cheerful no matter what. The Scripture itself says “There’s a tine to laugh, and a time to weep, a time to mourn and a time to dance.” When the weeping time comes, I can’t abide either people or books that go around spreading cheerful sayings on everybody like salve.
The story is of old Provincetown that still boasts its “Town Crier,” and a most dear old man he is — the real hero of the tale. Nowhere except in New England, is to be found the society Mrs. Johnston depicts, in which “Earth’s four distinctions fade away,” and everybody is respected and self-respecting according to character alone. The very soul of the place and its people — the distinctive flavor of both — pervades. A book which cannot fail to fascinate old and young alike. Mrs. Johnston has captured the elusive spirit of childhood, its imagination more potent than the Midas-touch; its capacity for both joy and sorrow; its strange reticence, the source of untold suffering. She has written a rainbow book, and those who read with discerning eyes will not. miss the pot of gold at its foot: for with fine unconsciousness it radiates the, spirit of cheer and helpfulness which many more-didactic stories vainly preach.