River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1875-04-16

What dark and foggy day it was yes.
day. The mist and the dark seemed to
have life. | saw it move along the streets
as returned to London. saw it cur.
like smoke about London Bridge and
creep like winged grey beasts in the air
about the towers Of Westminster.
Just four years ago this month, day
like this, first met Hood. How lone.
some was How discouraged. Three
months ! had been in this great town,
sick, worn, alone. knew not soul.
Oh it was pitiful,
Near whole city ull,
friend had none
l had time to see people. But | really
had no business with them. was lone
some only, and wanted some one to talk
to. In fact, all men who arc really worth
seeing are always at work, and have but
little time to see you. You must be con-
tent to see them through their work. |
had called on at least twenty publishers.
They would not even unite my papers.
had kept Murray--son Of the great
Murray, Byron's friend-to the last. l
had said to myself: "This man, what.
ever the others may do, will stand up for
the bridge that brought him over. lie
will read my papers and publish them"
When all else had failed, | had gone to
Murray. the first day ] only walked up
and down the street, looked at the house,
ann went home greatly encouraged and
feeling perfectly confident. There is
butcher shop adjoining this great publish
ing house, No. 81 Albermarle street, with
a row Of mutton hanging always before it.
never counted them, but know there
are just fourteen and there is always a
man, in a white apron, and long steel
swinging between his legs, walking Up
and down in front Of them.
The second day had gone into the
house and spoken bravely to the clerk.
us Mr.. Murray in -
'Mr. Murray is in. viii you step up"
My heart beat like a pheasant in for
est. For the first time was to meet a
great publisher face to face.
"No, no, thank you; not to-day. will
come tomorrow. Tomorrow at precise
ly this time" And hurried out of the
house, crossed the street, took a long look
at it, and went home the happiest man in
London.
had come next day an hour before
my time. But did not enter. | watch
ed the clock at the Piccadilly corner and
came in first, as / had agreed. think
the clerk had forgotten that had ever
been there. For my part, had remem-
bered nothing else.
The great Murray came down-a tall,
lean man, bald, with one bad eye. and
habit of taking sight at you behind his
long, thin forefingers, which he holds up
as he talks excitedly and shakes all the
time, either in his face or your own; and
was afraid of him from the first and
wanted to get away.
He took me up stairs when told him
had book all about the great West of
America; and there he showed me many
things ofByron- --Byron's mother, among
the rest, stout, red-faced woman, with
awful fat arms and lew, black curls about
low, narrow brow.
| ventured to say she. looked good-na-
tured.
AYE, now, don't you know she could
SHE a poker at your head, don't you
know ~
And the great Murray wagged his fin
ger in her face as he said this, quite
ignoring me, my presence, or my opinion.
Then he spun about on his heel to
where ] stood in the background, and,
taking sight at me behind his long, lean
finger:
"Now, young man, let us see what you
have GOT
| drew forth nay first love and laid it
timidly in his hand.
He held his head to one side, tipped
the leaves, looked in, jerked his head
back, looked in again, twisted his head
like a giraffe, and lifted his long finger.
"Aye, now, don't you know poetry
won't do, don't you know? 7"
"But will you not read it, please!"
"No, no, mo- No use, no use, don't
you know!"
| reached my hand, took the despised
sheets, and in moment was in the street,
wild, shaking my fist at that house now
and then as stopped in my fight and
turned to look back with sort of ner-
vous fear that he had followed me.
think was half crazed when got to
Fleet street. | did so want to sec some
one-to get some counsel, some kind
word.
saw the sign of Punch and entered.
SIS the editor in :"
"Will you send your card g.
How my heart beat again. How did
hope he was not in, and how glad ! was
when that boy c&me back with his La
comic "Not in, sir" yet delivered in such
way that knew perfectly well that he
was in, but wouldn't see you.
| went on. A group of people stood on
tSe sidewalk looking at the comic pic
lures in window. 1t was the Fun Of
flee. Ipushed my way Oddly thu ough
the crowd and entered.
SIS the editor in !"
"What name, sir o.
mo name; he would not know me.
Tell him man from America wishes TO
see him."
"Come this way, sir. Mr.. Hood will
see you"
As we went on through the shelves Of
books aud papers wondered if this
Hood was any relative Of the great, the
greatest, the saddest, lightest, best hui
morist that has ever been. II was his
only sen. Now that he is dead and leaves
no children the name is no more.