A Challenge. When the Shamrock IV trailed the Resolute across the line in the last of the 1920 yacht races for the America’s Cup, sportsmen who stared at one another amid the din of the whistle, cheers and salutes—sportsmen who met afterward in London clubs, in Paris bars, in Manhattan cafeterias— asked, rather incredulously than inquisitively: “Will he [Sir Thomas Lipton] challenge again?” Last week, this question was answered. Arriving in the U. S., Sir Thomas said that he would challenge. True, certain formalities must be executed first. Even now international yachtsmen are holding in London a congress (as grave as only a congress that deals with sport can be) to determine whether the next race will be “in sloops* or schooners†.” “When they settle that,” said Sir Thomas, “I will challenge, allowing adequate time for the ten months’ notice required by international rules. I expect that the next race will be sailed in 1926.”
Loud Welcome. Few of the famed men and women who have sailed up the oily river to Manhattan’s topless towers ever received such a welcome as was accorded last week to the Irishman whose toast is drunk daily in 10,000,000 cups of tea. There were whistles, cheers, salutes. Six hundred passengers lined the rails of the Leviathan. One Barren Collier, a Special Deputy Police** Commissioner, was present with a yacht to take Sir Thomas up the bay. The Police Band was present— to play Home Again and Hail to the Chief and The Gang’s All Here. And Captain Herbert Hartley, master of the Leviathan, ordered three long blasts on the potent steam whistle as the yacht started up the harbor.
Sir Thomas—a debonair six-foot shape in blue serge, with crisp yachting cap tilted to starboard—waved his hand. Chatting with pressmen, he stroked his goatee—a preposterous tuft no bigger than a barnacle—responded wittily to their sallies, screwing up his eyes when the sun shone against his face—a very brown face, drawn taut with the whip of sea-salt. “What good is the Cup to America when you have nothing to put in it?” asked he. “I understand the only thing you have left to put in it would burn the bottom out of it.”
Tea. Numberless times* Sir Thomas had sailed up that oily river. On his first trip, no whistles blew for him, no policemen sang. He, now 74, was then Thomas Johnstone Lipton, aged 17, who shipped as a stowaway, paying for his passage, after discovery, by shoveling in the stokehole. Like many another Irish lad, he came seeking his fortune, but lacking, as he once put it, the bonhomie to be a political boss and the tact to be a saloonkeeper, he soon went home with pockets still empty, determined to try again in the old country.
He tried again, founded Lipton Ltd., sold bacon, eggs, jam and finally tea. Now the famed Lipton brands†are sold wherever civilization has a general store.
Now rich, he speaks humorously of his early days. How difficult they were for him is perhaps shown in his great warmheartedness to the poor. It is estimated that $10,000,000—the sum he has spent in his unsuccessful efforts to win the America’s Cup—is far exceeded by his gifts to charity. His fame as a philanthropist led to his elevation to the baronetcy, but it was not so much for such notable gifts as his donations of $125,000 to the Jubilee Dinner Fund, of $500,000 to the Alexandria Trust (funds for supplying good cheap meals to working people) as for his vast, unpublished, personal charities that he was so honored.
Business and Pleasure. Many gentlemen are eminent in sport, many in business, but few attain eminence in both. Sir Thomas effects the combination in his person largely for the reason that he never attempts to be both at the same time. When he is at work, he thinks of the crumbling cobalt waves under a ship’s forefoot only as they may affect his imports; when he sails, the only pot that occurs to his mind is the great silver one reposing in the New York Yacht Club. “One thing at a time,” is his legend.
His present stay in the U. S. was scheduled to last six weeks.
The Shamrocks.
In 1899, Shamrock I lost to the Columbia in three straight races.
In 1901, Shamrock II lost to the Columbia. Three straight races.
In 1903, Shamrock III lost to the Reliance. Three straight races.
In 1920, Shamrock IV lost to the Resolute. Two to three.
*A light sailing ship with one mast carrying a fore-and-aft rig.
†A fore-and-aft rigged ship with from two to six masts.
** Sir Thomas is himself an “honorary captain” in the New York City Police Department.
*According to the daily press, Sir Thomas has made 60 visits to America. This seemingly impossible figure could not be verified.
†The brands of Lipton Tea are classified by seven different colored labels. They are: Yellow Label Tea, Ceylon, India and Orange (blend); Purple Label, English Breakfast; Salmon Label, Formosa Oolong; Green Label, Ceylon Green, Japan Green, Young Hyson, Gunpowder; Red Label, Ceylon, India and Java (blend); Olive Label, Mixed Black and Green; Blue Label, a smaller size of the Olive Label mixture.
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