The Arkansaw traveler., 1885-11-21
THE CURTAIN DROPPED.
LB. P. shillaber, in Hartford Postl

l
 Boston, who knew him. more from bis
 private, genial qualities than from his
 public efforts. He was as tender hearted
 as woman, devoted to his friends, loved
 what was noble and good, adored hts
 family and home, and in his writings al
 ways endeavnred to inculcate the sound est and best principles. He was a phi losopher, rather than a wit or humorist. and his proverbs, by their quaintness, found readier way to the common mind than Solonon's, with a wisdom that the old Jewish king might have approved and smiled at, in spite of himself. The press biographies have told how he commenced to write in the phonetic style. It was in imitation of "Artemus
 Ward" as "Wsrd" had initiated Do Sass" and "K. N Pepper" and he felt no scruples about doing so. "Artemus is droll he wrote to me after he be. gan, lat times unequalled. have al- most been suffocated by him. But he
 has been bearded now in his own den
 and can't tell which will whip" His first attempt at writing for the press was funny story about going fishing, where after fatiguing and unsuccessful day, ID following brook, he allowed his line to float beneath fence into a farm yard, through which the brook flowed, when he had sturdy bite and drew in a gos. lingl The story excited no attention and then he tried the Ward" mode, af ter which, in very little while he re- l ceived an invitation to write for three pa- pers-
 His writing naturally took the prover- bial form, and was inspirational, as he said, with his last word at Monterey. H, was not over confident of the merit ef what he wrote, 1t came so easily. He had no DO yer for elaboration. Regard ing his contributions ne wrote: "Ihave fairly wept over my poor, leaa, lame pro ductions. How have longed to have them born again in better harness but how vain have been my longings! Once escaped from me the lunatics cannot be called back, any more than the uncer tain flight of an arrow, nor be remodeled more than broken birds nests can" Be- trAyed into type, he says, "it has been like wine repeated Delirium follows and have written as the drunkard talks !; an instant oi glimmer, and then dark. ness more visible. But am too old tc bend any other way without breaking and, impelled as l am at times to scrib ble by some kin1 of hot headed devil in s'de, suppose l shall continue to writ. bills of fare as incongruous as FalsIaf , tavern reckoning little bread but hureN of sack" He was inspired through al by thought of the ''young ravens in m, (ois) nest"
 Ills lectures were but compilations of hls quaint sayings, and deli. cred, as ht says, almost under protest, but biddep to come out " he found it " almost pleas. ant" under such marked success on the platform. Apropos ot his lectures, there was one occasion where he was com. pletely nonplussed. In answer to an in- vitauon, he went to small town out west and was conducted on his arrival, to a little meeting house outside the village. which he found crowded to excess, by quiet audience, waiting to hear "lect ure." The clergyman was in the pulpit who gravely welcomed him, poin ing to seat This WAS followed by a solemn opening of the meeting with prayer, in- voking wisdom and strength for the speakerl Billings was fearful that he should break down but found his audi ence congenial and got through very we'll AS he concluded the benediction was for mally pronounced.
 At another tune he was invited to lecture in Pennsylvania city, and, on arriving found no posters or other indications that he was expected. Even the landlord a, the hotel knew nothing of it. He pro- cured a guide and went to the street and number that had been sent hina and found, in an upper chamber, a club of some fifty young men whs were awaiting his coming. After giving him a rousing reception they formed in procession and | marched to a hall, where, closing the door, he gave the club his lecture, and then marching back to their rooms, where | an entertainment had been provided, they all made night oft.
 Reg arding his first books reception by the critics, he says: The book has | been harp of thousand strings for them. Men have harpooned who never harpooned before, and old harpooners | have harpooned the more. Some have been so lost to the simplest canon of de- cency, that they have mailed me, direc; from their office nf publication, :he e-;- l dences of their scathinG. l can't &C., count for this fond effrontery. But the book wags its tail ana ticks the land of it's master"
 Mir. Shaw had great love for the He was tor years, in sum. mer, guest of the Glen house. where, be told friend of mine he should remain nll they whitewashed his shadow from the wall. He writes: |" l would have liked to worship the mountain with you this sum mer. could have stood at its base, with my hat of, but not said word. There are but two things in na- ture which would like to own one is and the other is the lit,le talk iog brook that linges at the mountain toot, with it's white waters and stony breast and its dear Ii tie people, the sparkling speckled trout. All my boy hood was spent with mountain and its playmate the brook. l was born in a