Among the earliest friends Field made at McClurg’s was the late William F. Poole, for many years in charge of the Chicago Public Library, and subsequently of the Newberry Library.  Dr. Poole came from Salem, Mass., and his son at one time was catcher for the Yale base-ball nine.  Field took advantage of these facts, which appealed to his enjoyment of contradictions to print all manner of odd conceits about Professor Poole’s relations to witches, base-ball, and libraries.  The doctor could not make a move in public that it did not inspire Field to some new quidity involving his alleged belief in witches, his envy and admiration of his son’s prowess at base-ball, and his real and extensive familiarity with libraries and literature.  Some idea of the good-natured liberties Field took with the name of Dr. Poole is given in this paragraph of October 8th, 1889: 

Dr. William F. Poole, the veteran bibliophile, is now in San Francisco attending the meeting of the National Librarians’ Association.  While the train bearing the excursionists was en route through Arizona, a stop of twenty minutes was made one evening for supper at a rude eating-house, and here Dr. Poole had an exciting experience with a tarantula.  The venomous reptile attacked the kindly old gentleman with singular voracity, and but for the high-topped boots which Mr. Poole wore, serious injuries would have been inflicted upon our friend’s person.  Mr. Fred Hild, our Public Librarian, hearing Dr. Poole’s cries for help, ran to the rescue, and with his cane and umbrella succeeded in keeping the tarantula at bay until the keeper of the restaurant fetched his gun and dispatched the malignant monster.  The tarantula weighed six pounds.  Dr. Poole took the skin to San Francisco and will have it tanned so he can utilize it for the binding of one of his favorite books.

I have introduced Dr. Poole into this narrative because he was really the dean of the interesting group of men who figured in Field’s Saints’ and Sinners’ Corner.  Both Field and the venerable doctor had a slight impediment in speech at the beginning of a sentence or in addressing anyone.  When they met after such a paragraph as the above had been printed, Dr. Poole would blurt out in the most friendly way, “O-o-o-oh Field! w-w-where did you get that lie from?” To which Field would reply, “L-i-i-ie, d-doctor!  W-w-why, F-f-fred Hild [Poole’s successor in the public library] g-g-gave me that!” Then the doctor would ejaculate “Nonsense!” and the conversation would drift into some discussion about books, in which all impediments of speech disappeared.