The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1889-11-20
Mr. Browning at Bay.
From he PhiIadelphi,r Tnotire,

from Lls FnltuQetDntQ inquirer.
good story comes from the other side about
Robert Browning. One day last summer the
Famous poet was strOlling through Hyde Park
and was just turning into Piccadilly when a
oevy OF American girls, who were in one of
looks parties. e5pied him. They knew him
from his picture, from his peculiar dress. from
ms mar. and from his manner. The old man
was waIslng along lesurely shifting the early
morning air and smiling contentedly at him
sell and pretty parlOr-maid, who was busting
IN window OF one of the big mansions over
looking the PARK. He is particularly fond Of
feminine admiration, but he was not prepared
Ior the united attack that was in store for MIN.
An elderly chlperone IN the party was the first
20 espy the poet, and al once gave the note Of
discovery.
There's Browning" she said.
There was temporary panic and thirty whine
foot or two.
'Where?" they calculated.
mere, said the old damsel, pointing TO the
poet In his black velvet jacket walking lesurely
ahead of them
How do you know was the reply.
know of course know. Haven't seen his
pictures often enough? Don't you suppose
Know Browning when see himg''
are you certain" said thirty-nine shrill
maiden voices in unison.
Yes" was the calm reply ''you can't fool
me on browning; know him, " and she started
after him on a run.
The others followed. They swooped down on
the old man like the locuSts of Egypt. He stood
sui, and threw up his hands il horror he re-
treated to stop, looked down on the forty
pretty maidens and asked almost breathlessIy
what they wanted.
is this Mr.. Browning, the poet!'' asked one
The poet NODDED an assent
Then you are Just the man we want to see,"
the forty women chimed in chorus
Really ladies', said the poet, you over
Wheln me. have not the honor of your &C
quaintance. III He could proceed no
further but retreated step or two farther up
the stoop as the forty women moved forward
llAe one man. 1t was no use. The gray haired
poet continued until he backed up against the
front door and the women followed him re-
morselessly
You may think our conduct strange" said
one OF them, but we have read so much of
your works that we really are anxious to see
U.s."
Instantly forty autograph albums were pulled
out and showed under the old mans nose Forty
hands were stretched out to grasp his There
was no getting away from them. He was
backed up against the door and the women
were obdurate. He shook each hand as it was
presented to him until the whole number had
retired satisfied; then after one girl mad handed
MN stylOgraphlc pen, he proceeded to write
MS name in his cramped hand writing in each
autograph album. This took some time and at
uracted some attention. but there was no get
ting away from it. When his name was placed
on the last book he ran down the steps as
nimbly as boy and off across the park like
frightened deer.
That night forty tired heads rested softly on
forty autograph albums under forty pillows in
London hotel. If the rest of their European
trip had been failure they were satisfied, they
had seen Browning they had taken him by the
hand; they had his autograph; they were in
deed happy American girls.