The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1890-10-26

society anu lLs IrlNOlltleS eacu Jay ol LIZ
life aud pays more attention 10 writing
than be does to MS enormous fortune. Only
, his very intimate friends know how ardent
a literary worker he Is and how little ht
thinks of the money that comes TO him from
the sale of his books
A few days before he sailed for Europe g
gentleman representing prominent maya
zine called upon Mr.. As.or with a request
that he furnish a short story for pubilca-
ton.
Il don't know said this gentleman,
"whether the sum of money we shall be
able to pay you would be any inducement
for you to do the work. Perhaps not We
want story Of about 1900 words and " i'll
pay you cents word"
Mr. Astor looked the speaker calmly in
the face and said: Five cents a word. Is
that above or below the ordinary rate of
pay! o well, never mind, the pay is Of no
Consequence / should like to write the
story if l can find plot that will suit me.
Perhaps / may do so. Whel / return from
Europe you shall hear from me- If have
not suitable material, no story. | will be
frank with yol AID tell you that / write for
amusemen- not for pAy; bat nevertheless
will accept the honorarium You offer and
| devote it to some worthy object.n
With that the one hundred times million
ARE arose and bowed his visitor stiffiy out
OF doors. Then he went to his library,
closed the door and returned to his literary
wo k, Il story of Italian life that he is soon
to publish, with all the ardor of penny-a-
liner working for his daily bread.
What lucky thing it is to have a vast
fortune IS well 6s literary ability.
a GLIMPSE OF THE EDITOR OF THE NEW
YORK "TIBIEs.n
A New York editor that you seldom hear
of is Charles r. Miller Of the New York
Times. He is a broad shouldered, rather
understood man, with a full face and
closely chopped black beard. His eyes are
as sharp as ferrets, and no moro positive
or aggressive writer is known on the New
y ork press to-day. Outside of his offics he
takes little or no interest in matters Jour
nallstic. d. not remember Of ever hear
ing of him at Press Club dinner OF at any
gathering OF newspaper men. Occasionally
you see him at the theater or opera,
but his special recreation is walking.
He is "a great pedestrian and attributes the
glow of health upon his cheeks to that exer-
else. In many ways he is situated better
better than any editor in New York He
the proprietor, is a very old man and he
permits Mr.. Miller to do just as he pleases.
He.has great confidence in him. On all
questions of policy or the expenditure of
large sums of money for news Mr.. Miller's
word is final. He comes and goes when he
pleases. He is responsible to no one, and in
addition to all this he draws a comfortable
salary OF $4,000 a year-a sum not ex-
eeeded by that Of any working journalist n
New York.
A DAsHING FOOT BALL CAPTAIN CAPTURES
AN HEIREsS.
The engagement Of handsome and oopu-
lar Harry Beecher, grandson of the late
Rev. Henry Ward Beecher, 70 the beautiful
and accomplished Miss Nellie Newberry.
an heiress of Detroit, and daughter of the
late John $. Newberry, q former partner of
United States Senator Mcmillan, is heartily
received by all who know the engaging
young man. The young people have known
each other for some time, aad it is said that
they met IN this way: Miss Newberry's
brother married Miss Hattie Barnes. The
latter was a most intimate friend of the
late Mrs. William Harper, a sister of the
bridegroon-elect. Miss Newberry fire.
quently accompanied her sister-io-law 10
Mr.. Harper's home. where Mr. Beec oer
was also frequent visitor. Cupid did the
rest.
Harry Beecher is broad shou,dered.
athletic young fellow, about % years of
ege. He was born in Brooklyn, where he
resided until the death of Henry Ward
Beecher, when the family removed to
YOnkers. He was entered at Yale and
graduated some two years ago with honor.
But it is MT for his scholarship that he will
be remembered at Yale. His ability 20 kick
foot ball is the pedestal on which his fame
is securely placed. Mr.. Beecher is some
what below rather than above the medium
hight, rather shortlsh, but it is with the
muscular development of the athlete He
has blue ewes, light complexion and fair
hair and must ache.
EX-PREsIDENT HAYES AND HIS DAUGHTER.
Time is making many changes in ex-
President Hayes. He is ageing rapidly. l
saw him in the corridor of the Fifth Avenue
hotel the other evening, and not one man in
twenty-five knew him. He was alone. His
hands were clasped behind his back. His
chin rested low on his shirt collar. He
seemed TO be buried in thought He has
few friends in New York. Politicians
never visit him. No one seeks his company
His visits to New Y FORK are not num-
erous, perhaps one or two a year. Often
be brings with him his favorite daughter
Miss Fannie, who attained her majority
recently At the Fifth Avenue hotel this
young lady is perfectly at home, and knows
the lns and outs of the great caravansery
as well almost as she does her own resi-
dence. 1t IS quite a picture to see her
going into the la &c dining room leaning
on her fathers arm. The con-
trast between the two is great. He is gray
and somewhat patriarchal looking, his
bushy white whiskers extending somewhat
over his shirt front. The young lady is a
decided brunette, medium sized and could
not be classed as any too tail or a bit too
short. There is family resemblance in
her face to the ex-Presldent, but the color
Of their eyes is not the same, his being gray
and hers dark. In dress she is modest and
not given to display of any kind. Her
attire is quite becoming, though, and made
to comport with the canon of style as laid
| down in New York. She is not given tc
| jewelry. as friend of hers said. Only
| small ornaments if any at al were ever
| worn. On this occ lsion she certainly did
not appear bedecked tn any glowing gems
| She IS devoted to her fatner aid they enjoy
rare intellec ual companionship. They
stroll about the city together or take a cat
and enjoy long drives.
A GLIMPSE OF ROBERT c. WINTHROP.
Look closely at this old man. He is not
! of to-day. One must have long memory
| to 60 back to the yesterday when he was
great. The hustling, bustllng people of the
now know him not. and yet be was once d
pillar of the republic.
OAce year, in the early fall, he can be
seen in the CO ri6ors of the Fifth Avenue
hotel. The figure is that of man bent with
years, leaning heavily on cane, but walk
ing without any other assistance. Now and
then he looks up, and for an instant his