From the Camp-Fire, 1 February 1935:
A FINE bright blaze crackles this time in the Camp-Fire. Thousands of comrades who have been in the circle year in and year out will feel the warm and cheerful glow on their faces. We have a message from one of the few great editors—the man who conducted our magazine with so much ability and honest enthusiasm that readers gave him a truly remarkable response of loyalty and friendliness. No large group of readers is so loyal as the older guard of Adventure. They are an unusual army of well-read and friendly men, and at their head still marches the talented comrade who sends us this greeting:
Dear Comrades of the Camp-Fire:—
Is there room around the Fire for one of its old-timers? No adventures to tell about, but as I was the fellow who gathered the first wood and struck the first spark for this Camp-Fire of ours, maybe there's still a place for me to sit and listen to the others after I've given an account of myself.
I admit it: I've not been coming to the meetings. To make a long story short, when I resigned as editor of our magazine, I was more glad than sorry to do so. Partly because I was going to a better paying job but chiefly because it had become more and more plain to me that the new ownership (at that time) was set upon making changes in the magazine that seemed to me to doom it to go downhill. They even spoke of abolishing Camp-Fire and Ask Adventure as well as all other departments. After working hard for seventeen years to build up the magazine I naturally didn't want to stay and see it crumble away. Still less did I want to be held responsible by the readers for things I did not approve and could not prevent.
Well, our magazine did what I had foreseen—went downhill. Many a one of you has written me bemoaning that fact. A number of editors tried their hands; I do not think any editor could have made a success of the program and under the limitations laid down from above. Personally, I stopped reading the magazine. Camp-Fire at times seemed a mere travesty of what it had once been; I missed the old spirit among you, despite the faithful who did their best to keep things as they had been.
One day last summer, on one of my infrequent trips from the country, I stopped in to see Joe Cox of our old staff, having learned he'd returned to the magazine after its purchase by Popular Publications. I met the present editor and we went to lunch. We talked.
Then we talked more frankly, and for a long time. About nothing except the magazine and Camp-Fire.
On another visit we talked again, and this time one of the publishers sat in on our informal session.
And so I've come back to Camp-Fire.
No, I have no connection with the magazine in any way except as a reader.
I've come back merely as one of the Camp-Fire gang. Because, for the first time since some seven years ago, our magazine has an ownership and an editor who really understand it as we understand it and whose aim is to make it all that we used to find it. As I know from experience, it takes time to build up what we had, for what we had was not just printed words on pages but a spirit of comradeship and understanding that grew up among us. But now we're not only on our way, but picking up speed.
Some of you never deserted the Fire, so it could not die out entirely. Now we have an editor who is really one of us and, back of him, a house that also understands. It looks to me as if the good old times were coming back again.
Apparently it looks the same way to the rest of you, for the circulation has begun to go up steadily. Even during the summer months, dull ones for magazines, it was going up.
And very glad I am to be "home once more. I've been in touch with quite a few of you, both readers and members of our writers' brigade, and hearing occasionally from others, but it's good to be able to shake hands with all my old friends again and to meet the new comrades. Most of us have traveled a long and pleasant road together; there are many memories and old ties and there is good comradeship among us. Our Camp-Fire is now twenty-two years old.
Here's to its next, and better, twenty-two years.
—ARTHUR S. HOFFMAN