ONE NIGHT after a broadcast on which I had performed one of the lesser-known Fables by George Ade, I took a phone call which turned out to be from S. J. Perelman. He was practically in tears. We exchanged Adeisms for over an hour. It was his considered opinion that Ade was undoubtedly one of the greatest humorists, if not the most outstanding, humorist, America has yet come up with. And what's more, that it was truly sad and ridiculous that the Great Man had become merely a three-letter word meaning "Indiana Humorist" in the New York Times Sunday Crossword Puzzle. A couple of nights later at a late supper in Dinty Moore's, near Broadway, we continued what we had begun over the phone. In addition to remarking on the excellence of the blueberry cheese cake we were consuming, Perelman, in the flush of orgiastic pleasure, went on to say that he felt that Ade had influenced all of the 20th Century American humorists in one way or another and had written about blueberry pie and ice cream as no one ever had or will again.

Up to this point I had felt that Ade was a private little crotchet of my own that I had best conceal from my more literate friends, to be secretly enjoyed when no one was looking, along with other vices such as White Sox shortstops, G-8 And His Battle Aces, old movies starring Merle Oberon, and red cabbage (sweet-sour). After hearing from Sid Perelman, I began to nose around among my other colleagues in the vineyards and immediately uncovered others who lived by Ade's advice, "Don't try to Account for Anything." Among them is the wildly talented cartoonist-writer Shel Silverstein, who supplied me with several rare volumes of Ade to add to the present collection.
    Preface and Introduction to The America of George Ade, 1866-1944 (Jean Shepherd)

Mr. Waterby remarked to his wife: “I’m still tempted by that set of Poe. I saw it in the window to­day, marked down to fifteen dollars.”

“Yes?” said Mrs. Waterby, with a sudden gasp of emotion, it seemed to him.

“Yes—I believe I’ll have to get it.”

“I wouldn’t if I were you, Alfred,” she said. “You have so many books now.”

“I know I have, my dear, but I haven’t any set of Poe, and that’s what I’ve been wanting for a long time. This edition I was telling you about is beautifully gotten up.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t buy it, Alfred,” she repeated, and there was a note of pleading earnestness in her voice. “It’s so much money to spend for a few books.”

“Well, I know, but—” and then he paused, for the lack of words to express his mortified surprise.

Mr. Waterby had tried to be an indulgent husband. He took a selfish pleasure in giving, and found it more blessed than receiving. Every salary day he turned over to Mrs. Waterby a fixed sum for household expenses. He added to this an allowance for her spending money. He set aside a small amount for his personal expenses and deposited the remainder in the bank.

He flattered himself that he approximated the model husband.

Mr. Waterby had no costly habits and no prevailing appetite for anything expensive. Like every other man, he had one or two hobbies, and one of his particular hobbies was Edgar Allan Poe. He believed that Poe, of all American writers, was the one unmistakable “genius.”

The word “genius” has been bandied around the country until it has come to be applied to a long-haired man out of work or a stout lady who writes poetry for the rural press. In the case of Poe, Mr. Waterby maintained that “genius” meant one who was not governed by the common mental processes, but “who spoke from inspiration, his mind involuntarily taking superhuman flight into the realm of pure imagination,” or something of that sort. At any rate, Mr. Waterby liked Poe and he wanted a set of Poe. He allowed himself not more than one luxury a year, and he determined that this year the luxury should be a set of Poe.

Therefore, imagine the hurt to his feelings when his wife objected to his expending fifteen dollars for that which he coveted above anything else in the world.

As he went to his work that day he reflected on Mrs. Waterby’s conduct.
    -STORY: The Set of Poe ( George Ade)