The Caldwell tribune. [volume] (Caldwell, Idaho Territory [Idaho]) 1883-1928, 1884-09-13

friends and dodgers. Gradually the lit
tie circle thinned its members died of
one by one, till Mrs. Seymour, a widow,
was left to keep house for only one sur
vivor, Charles Reade. Their relation
ship, from first to last, was one of pure
and sacred friendship, and the world
would be better, in my opinion, if such
friendships were more common. Bright,
intelligent, noble-minded, and gener-
GUS to a fault, Laura Seymour deserved
every word of the passionate eulOgy
which Charles Reade composed upon
her death, and had engraved upon her
tombstone. She was little woman,
bright-eyed, vivacious, and altogether
charming. In all literary matters she
was his first adviser and final court of
appeal; but, like himself, she was very
impuisive, and occasionally wrong
headed. She had the best and finest of
all virtues-charity. Whenever there
was poverty and suffering, her purse
was as open as her heart. She loved
dumb animals, dogs especially. In the
pleasant days that are gone l used to
drive down to Albert Gate certain
Pickwickian pony of mine, christened
Jack. On his first appearance at the gate
nothing would content the good Sey-
mour but that l should take him out of
the trap, release him of his harness and
escort him through the house to the
back garden. "Poor fellow" she cried,
'fdo bring him in and let him Craze on
the lawn" This would hardly have
done, as Jack was soft sybarite al
ready, and too plump, moreover, to get
through the lobby without accidents.
Mrs. Seymour relieved her kind heart
by sending him out some cakes and
bread, to which he was very partial;
and ever after that day, when Jack
pulled up at the Vineyard, be sure he
had his treat of something nice,
given by that kindly and gentle hand.
In his personal habits Reade was ex-
ceedingly eccentric. For example, he
had mania for buying all sorts of |
flotsam and jetsam, with the idea that
they might s'come in useful" On one |
occasion he purchased a stuffed horses |
head, thinking he might utilize it in one
of his plays, and placed it in his lum-
ber-room, where it soon became moth
eaten. On another, he invested in
large number of knives and forks,
which he secreted away, thinking to
produce them triumphantly. "Sey-
mour," he explained to a confdant,
''thinks of giving party, so I've pur-
chased this cutlery in case she may run
short" He was troubled with corns,
and wore enormous boots. We found
him one morning with whole waste
basket full of new boots, which he had
ordered wholesale, after pattern that
5ook his fancy. His ginghan Umbrella
would have delighted Mrs. Camp. AL
.ogether his whims and oddities
we're constant care to Mrs. Sey-
nour, who rallied him mercilessly
about them. In his play of "Jeal-
ousy," produced AZ the Olympic thea
re, there was q scene where one of the
actresses, supposed to be danseuse," |
lad to hide behind very high screen.
DO you think, my DEAR" he said to
he actress rehearsing the part, "you t
,ould show the agility of the danseuse t
" lifting your foot and letting foot and |
.nkle pass in sight of the audience,
lose to the top of the screenP" but this |
'ly impossible. "Then, my dear, we'll
ave false leg made, and at the
roper moment you will work it, grace
ully and rapidly, as shall direct" 1t !,
, scarcely necessary to add that this
ealistic notion was not carried out. :,
am disposed to think that Mrs. Sey-
hours influence had much to do in q
weetening and softenlng the character y
f Charles Reade; that it was alto v
ether a benign and beautiful influence, a
} which the world, however indirectly, q
ives much. A photograph of Reade, y
lken when he was about five-and- = !,
lirty, shows a sternness of ontline and y y
uculence of expression which after :, q
ard completely changed; it repre- :, u
,nts, indeed, face of extraordinary =,
over but no gentleness. Another y: "
in my possession, taken -, ~
Margate in ls7S, pictures the W W
me face, softened by the touch &c &c
time; the face of "benevolent i'm >.
'cile," he himself playfully calls it in ", ",
brief note upon the back. have no ~
'ubt whatever that his benevolence "
as greatly fostered by his warm
arted companion; but be that as it NJ.
ay, he was, when l knew him, the N'
of men-like our friend Bo- VIC
erges, all fire and thunder in the pull hs
t, all kindness and sweetness at his
IN fireside. The fact is, his style was w
thoroughbred, and often ran away
tn him, or, when he sought to drive ps
mildly, kicked the subject to pieces.
!, was the Boythorn OF literature, only
, big speeches and terrible invectives SO
re not spoken, but set down on on
per. Yet he looked on human nature in
th the eye of a lover. He, too, had
ssion for dumb animals. Not long nd
lore his death he filled the garden
III tame hares. A noble deed stirred Be
n like a trumpet; great as his hate
wrong-doing, was his compassion
suffering. Over and above all was Bo,
natural piety, which bound his days
n to Zach with q chain of rold he