, 1885-05-26
DAuoEr AND lis WIRE.


|HN a NNNN 0fN
iTar's CDR. New York 1smes.l
N. Alphonse Daudets library is a
small, densely furnished ROOM, with a
coal fire Turning dreamily in an open
CRATE and a large writing desk strewn
with yellow bound novels, letters and
blctting pads Of all sizes and des1rip-
tions. Shelves of books line one side OF
the room. The author Of the ''Naboo
is about - years of age, delicately made
and almost fragile in appearance. His
face is thin, extremely shallow, and
marked with lines which age alone could
not have impaired. His eyes are bead
like andSssem to be chasing each other
all the time he speaks. his nose is
aquilinei and his mouth firm and i'm
mobile.
10 you know, he said, that when
/ wrote the 'Nabob' l worked twenty
hours every day. One becomes intoxi-
Gated with work, aud / found that my
digestion was much better if l ate while
| worked. l always took my meals to my
writ ng table. and the result was invari-
ably satisfactory. You know that If you
go to bed Immediately after eating the
digestion will accomplish itself during
sleep. The same with writing. Com
mence Immediately after you have swal-
lowed your food. Don't wait for di-
gestion, or you will feel heavy and in
capable. l can assure you that this
physiological law has been q veritable
g0dsend to me-"
GLOW do | write a novel; l first of
all 'ot down my notes in a little pocket
book which | carry about with me Then
l write out those notes, crossing them
of the pocketbook with a red pencil as
- L. Pic .sAt.r -rs-4 ,- 4IAr
are written, are copied clearly by my
wife, who corrects any little errors of
redundancy which / may have COM
mittei ! then take my wife's copy and
20 through it very carefully, adding and
cutting to suit my taste. The result of
this manipulation, said NJ. Daudet,
laughing for the first time, lis a con
formation of hieroglyphics which shock
tho eye. There is only one man in the
world who could interpret them, aud
that is my private secretary-worth his
weight in gold. let me say. To this
long-suffering gentleman, therefore, my
illegible manuscript passes, aud from
his hands it energies, nearly what it
ought to be, but not quite. After a
few quieter struggles, however, it is
ready for the printer. My wife is a posi-
tive boon to me. / don't really know
what / should do without her. A really
curious thing" said thoauthor, lis that
Nine. Daudet despises novels. l write
them, you know, and she despises them.
She often tell me that my novels bore
her. / think she really prefers my note
books.
In my opinion, - said NJ. Daudet, Eve
read too many books. What we want is
to come to contact with life. There ara
those who make books from books, and
those who make books from what they
sec. There are books which are only
the successors Of other books, and these
are simply old works done up as new.
According to my ideas a book should
only be written when n has something
to say. Don't go to your commonplace
sheets and collect together a number Of
extracts AMI dish them up in book form.
Go to the window and look upon nat
ure; then let us hear your W ideas
about it.
NJ. Daudet stretched out his arm and
took an elegantly bound volume of his
translated Shakespeare from its shelf,
lingering it lovingly. when life is ex-
tremely fat he said, "and my wife
comes to me with grievances about SER
wants and interesting facts concerning
ltko VI Alulton al A4Do VI JUL 4 IL "
my Shakespeare. Ny love for Shake
speare never changes. 1t is a most re-
markable thing that all my other tastes
change. / am also a great admirer Of
Hawthorne, and his Scarlet Letter i'm
pressed me very deeply. l shall always
regret the fact that l cannot speak or
read English, as l I'M unable TO read
the American novels, SO few of them
being translated into French. There is
one American writer who, however, is
translated, but whom l cannot do what
/ will, understand. / mean Mark Twain.
l cannot see his humor. / have tried
my hardest. | have said to myself
Everybody laughs at him. What can
be the matter with mel' But there / sit
perfectly silent. Impossible to laugh,
impossible TO smile. Mark Twain to me
is a sealed book