The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1885-10-15

- - ~~'~~@ ~~-@s
fold BY . Gentismsn who Was with Him
I'm 1870.
Henry Clay was one of the most
fascinating men I ever met, said Nor
man j. Emmons. Your speaking of
Niagara Falls reminds me of the time
met him there, away back in 40. /
was then pretty young in the profess
sion, with no very great income, and
Joe Clark's invitation to spend a few
days at the Falls was hailed by me with
all the satisfaction in the world.
"Joes father was Lot Clark, propri-
etor of the Cataract House, and owner
of big slice of other Niagara Falls
property. When / arrived there 1
found that among the personal guests
of the elder Clark were Henry Clay
and his sons wife. You may imagine
that to live in the house with the great
Kentuckian, to be in his society daily,
and to be talked to by him, was a
bonanza for me.
what was Clay like? Well, it is q
hard matter to describe him adequate
ly, for words can never paint the ex-
quisite charm of his manner. Before /
had been with him long / understood
his extraordinary power with the pub
lie, but it is impossible for me to
analyze it. In stature he was very tall,
over six feet; his bearing was erect, his
face was thin and his nose was aquiline.
Every movement was the perfection of
grace, and with that he unconsciously
united commanding dignity that be-
spoke the innate greatness of the man.
"His voice. All, that was wonder
full! 1 have never heard another like
it-melodious, sonorous, rich. Every
tone was perfectly modulated, and it
fell upon the ear with a sound sweeter
than silver bells. His gestures-not
the studied, oratorical gestures, but
those which he habitually but involun-
tarily made in conversation-were
hardly less expressive than his marvel
Gus voice. You may think that 1 am
am over-enthusiastic; but it is fact
that in all my career never met an
other man with such winning ways,
such magnetism and charm as Clay's.
He was impressive, too, even in his
gallantries.
Il remember that one of the ladies at
the Cataract House on that occasion
was Miss Elliot, daughter of Judge
Elliot, who presided over large Judi
cial district in Canada. She was
beautiful girl, not more than IL or Is
years Of age-neither child nor woman.
Her hair was raven black and worn in
natural curls longer than any others 1
ever saw. She was tall, too, and
superbly formed. Her education was
remarkable, and she attracted Mr..
Clay's attention. He said to me one
evening: 'EmfAons, who is your friend,
the young lady with the beautiful curls p
That, Mr.. Clay, is Miss Elliot, of
Canada I replied. III go fetch her.
By no means, my dear boy; I'll go
to her. was the gallant response, and,
taking my arm, he crossed over with
me to where the lady stood, and was
presented to her. Considering the fact
that he was the lion of the hour, an old
man full of honors, and the idol of
thousands, this characteristic little bit
of good-breeding has always seemed to
me worth remembering
"A few days later / had an equally
striking illustration of Mr.. Clay's i'm
pressiveness. had gone out early one
morning to the Falls, and while con-
templating them felt the approach of
somebody. There was no sound, not
even a shadow, to warn me; but knew
that some one was at hand. l did not
change my position nor look around,
but presently felt hand laid on my
head. think no word was spoken for
possibly ten seconds. Then Mr.. Clay
for it was he) said simply: This scene
fills me with unceasing wonder and ad-
miration.'
"His voice, the solemn and majestic
import of his words Gas he uttered
them, and the sudden rush of feeling
which the scene, the presence, and the
sentiment invoked, made me appreciate
the littleness of man and the greatness
of God more than anything else in life
has done. detroit Free Press.