The McCook tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 1886-1936, 1886-09-30
THE POET SAKE.
Man Who Has Been Sorely Az
ffcted-His Quiet Life In the
City of Albany-His Fa-

bPdt I'll VI 81 AOul- otOlt OlOWu-StOuO
louse on State street, in the City of AL
ANY. and almost within a stones
brow of the great capital, sits, or walks,
" reclines throughout the day a man
o years of age. With hair that is sill
'ery white, a full beard that is gray
White, a form that is bent and emacia-
ed, a step that is slow and tottering,
ind a cheek that is pallid and shrunk-
,n-his blue eyes yet full and lustrous
lone indicate the strength and pride
# other days. The man is John God
rey Sake. the poet. 1t is only a few
rears since the verses of SAKE was
eagerly accepted by the leading periodi-
:als and his services as a lecturer were
everywhere popular. In his day he was
{ bright member of many Il literary
gathering, being known personally to
Ill of the most prominent of con
emporary poets and prose writer's. He
ras the nations wit and humorist,
whose delicious rhymes brought to
himself fame and a competence and to
aany a household the cheerful smile or
.earty laugh. Even across the sea he
vas known as 1.-The Thomas Hood of
amer. ca" The beginning of the
nd was the poets dreadful experience
nd remarkable escape from u revolt
no death in the western railway disas-
ar in the spring of 1875, while on his
eturn TO Brooklyn at the conclusion of
# a lecture our in the south. The
:eeping-car in which he had a berth
vas thrown down a steep embankment
md he was rescued therefrom by the
nerest chance. AS he lay wedged in
etween the broken timbers. stunned
nd bruised, q fellow-passenger who
lad escaped bethought him of a sum
# money which he had left behind
Tim. On returning to the car he STUN
,led upon the insensible poet. The
after was thereby discovered and res
ued from what would inevitably have
zen death and destruction by fire as
he sleeper in which he was found, after
brief interval following his rescue,
,ecame a mass of seething flame. His
lesh was bruised, but no bones were
roken. Outwardly he appeared to
lave escaped with slight bodily inju-
les. Not so. A grievous hurt was
here-deep, insidIous, and lasting,
hough at the time it was unseen and
lnfelt. The poets nerve system had
ecjeved a shock from W.: Oh it never
allied. Exhaustion set i slowly but
urely the consequent weakness over
pread and undermined his whole
physical being. He began to expert
nee a greater degree of bodily and
mental fatigue than had been usual
With him. Worst of all was its de-
PRESSING influence on his exuberant
pirits, which became mere and more
ubdued, until at last his mind had lost
ouch of its wonted buoyancy. Other
tfictions were yet in sore During
he year just prior to that of the rail-
way accident he had inferred his
laughter Laura in Greenwood GEM
;tery. Five years later death again IN
aided his Brooklyn homo, the second
-ictim being his daughter Sarah. Bare
y another year had elapsed when the
mother Of his childrden, a noble woman,
vas put tenderly away in dreamless
est. Early in the year of 1881 the
lark reaper for the fourth time laid his
:ruel sickel at his door, this time cut
inc down Hattie, the poets only re-
naming daughter. He had yet two
ons living i'll Albany. Turning his
nournful steps thither in June, 1881,
ie sought rest and refuge from his
,orrows with his eldest son. John Theo-
lore. Once again the ineyOrable hand
If fate was laid heavily upon MIN; death
matched away the son ere the father
lad been a month beneath the hospita-
lie roof. The sons wife had died nine
weeks before. Here WAS a daughter
md a sons wife and the son himself
III three cut down within the brief
period of two months. Thus for the
aecond time vas broken up the poets
,ome. Then he turned to his youngest
ION and only remaining child, Charles
j., with whom he has since lived. and
Who with filial tenderness and solicitude
minister's to the poets simple daily
wants.
The old poet is now much changed
n form and feature, beng merely a
ihadow of his former SET. During the
irst three years of his residence in AL
lany he spent some hours each pleasant
lay in strolling about the beautiful
,ark neal by, or TRANQUILITY sitting there
IL a shady arbor, watchin : the children
1t their play. But dur,n the past two
a no public eye has sen him, for in
hat long interval he has of his own
choice been carefully secluded in his
Dom. He neither rides nor walks
broad. The apartment in which he
spends his melancholy days consists of
/ suite of three rooms, located in the
ear end of the house on the third floor,
ind overlooking the noble Hudson to
he south. Here by a WINDOW he whites
way much of his time in watching the
susy river craft and in contemplating
The picturesque landscape. Of street
attire he no longer has aneed; in dress
ng-gown and slippers he PAGES the floor
With slow and trembling steps, seldom
,r never going beyond the confines of
ais own rooms. He prefers to have
perfect quiet about him, and oftentimes
iislikes to be disturbed even By a mem
Ser of his own family. 1t is a long
lime since he last consented to receive
. stranger or even a friend or %acquain-