The Seattle post-intelligencer. [volume] (Seattle, Wash. Terr. [Wash.]) 1888-1914, 1891-09-28

What the queen and her numerous prog
eny would have demanded as a right not
so many years ago, they now hesitate to
ask favor. 1t IS all very we'll to- say,
as some party organs here do that no one
about government circles takes Mr.. La
bouchere seriously. This may be true, but
the fact remains that the English voter
takes him seriously, and that is more i'm
portant. The people lean in his direction,
and as they read their Reynolds and other
weekly newspapers that take but little
stock in either kings or thrones and dis
cuss the utterances of the member from
Northampton, the things they say about
affairs in general would not sound nice in
royal ears.
1t is very certain that these men don't
care much about poets laureate. William
Morris they know and respect. He is
true poet, but he is also one of themselves.
But poets who are kept ''loafiing about the
throne" to lift up their voices in song in
accompaniment to the bowling of a new
Hanoverian baby every time one comes
along to assist in raising the taxes-which
is often enough-these radicals want none
of such poets. They do not say anything
against Tennyson. His fame is too great
and is the pride of most Englishmen.
But man for man they love Alfred Ten
nyson, the poet, better than Lord Tenny-
son, the peer. Labouchere and others
ridicule all poets laureate, and no one seri-
Ouoiy oClCHu5 tbClut dltuOuBn L1c
dates trust to Lord Salisbury's known
conservatism and regard for old usages to
keep the thing going on.
But then Lord Salisbury may not be
prime minister when Tennyson dies, and
in that case, the position of poet laureate
is likely to be abolished. Welt, who cares?
No one over here except a couple of men
who want the job.
Speaking of Tennyson's predecessors
and possible successor. l had the rare
pleasure of seeing the old poet in London
the other day-rare, for the reason that az
he grows olddr he seems to dislike the city
more and more, and he never visits it ex-
cept when some important business takes
him there.
1t was at the Athenaum Club, a group
of men were chatting, when their atten-
ton was drawn to two men who were
slowly passing on the opposite side OF Pail
Mall.
One of these was sturdy enough man
approaching middle age, but looking
young indeed beside the man who walked
arm In arm with him, for the latter was a
veritable patriarch in appearance. He
was moreover man who would att.sct at
tention in any assemblage. His tell frame
was bent with years and covered with a
wondrously lll-httlng suit of some gray
material. He wore hat like, and yet un-
like, the American SLOUGH. His boots
were wide and stout, almost coarse. his
- -
arranged. But you forget all about his
dress when you looked at his face. so
calm and strong; 1t was set off by great
shaggy head OF white hair, and beard
such as the patrlarchs are supposed to
have worn.
"Picturesque-looking old chap that"
one OF the loungers in the club window re-
marked carelessly.
Another of the loungers who had been
watching the pair closely, turned and
looked closely and curiously at the speaker
Perhaps," he said, with just tritie of
sarcasm In his voice, "you don't know
who that picturesque old chap is"
Haven't the slightest idea," the other
one drawled.
well, that picturesque old chap, as Won
call him, IS Alfred TeDnyson, and that is
his son Hallam with him. Take good
look at the laureate while you have a
chance. be doesn't come often to London
now, and at his age any of the trips may
easily be his last one"
And the group did look at the old man
with all their eyes, while he slowly passed
beyond their gaze leaning on the arm of
his son.
The idlers in the window had witnessed
rare sight indeed in London, for il is
only at long intervals that the poet Iaure-
ate allows himself to be drawn within
nearing OF the noise and din of the great
overgrown city. All his life he has loved
the solitude of the country far more than
ne has cared for towns. Indeed, it is
doubtful II the Old poet would give up his
beautiful home at Haslemere, on the Isle
OF wight, for the costhest palace London
could offer him.
Besides, the poet is now a very old man.
de Is gong on So years of age, and he has
been writing poetry nearly seventy years.
Not for tive centuries has any English poet
OF renown lived to such an age But one.
indeed, has lived more than eighty years
That was William Wordsworth. Jenny
sons immediate predecessor in the laure-
ateship. He lived sixteen DAYS bevond
his el ghtIeth year. But Wordsworth az 20
was but the wreck of a man in mind and
BODY. Iennyson at 81 is still conpara-
lively vigorous old man. True. he does
not sing with as full throat as he once
old' but that we may well overlook.
NO Irappist monk ever lived more ont
OF the world than Tennyson lives now
ana YET In all London, and for that matter
IN al! the three kingdoms, there is no man
VINO Is so sought after as is the laureate.
he knows little of this and cares less. II
Is the constant care of his family to keen
MN from all care and annoyance. 1t is
Ihe sole work of his son to see to this
letters OF all kinds pour in upon the poet,
py the cart load almost. There are invita-
lions from the highest in the land to din