Figures not Fluff
Duty called me to attend the Editor at a reception last week given by the proprietors
of Raymond's Revuebar for the re- launching of Men Only magazine which might from the Look of it, be prescribed under the National Health Scheme by Sir Keith Joseph as a pep-up for the middle aged. It was a men only occasion since Mr Raymond had been flouted by his girls who said they needed their eight hours after their night's ardours. 'They'll be fired when they report this evening', Mr Raymond is reported as saying—serious news for any regulars who called that night. The same dedication compelled me to glance again at Frank Harris's unexpurgated My Life and Loves over the weekend. It is a considerable work though it was put about at the time by those who had reputations at stake that Har- ris was a mere fabulist and sex crank. There is some interesting turn-of-the-century business history which rings true. Do you remember his business dealings with Ernest Terah Hooley—company promoter and swindler? Harris put it to Hooley that com- panies that had advertised heavily (itself unusual at that time) had a hidden asset that made them worth more than the balance sheet showed. A well known name (like Bovril, which was one of them) made the public offering easier.