The Irish standard. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn. ;) 1886-1920, 1893-04-15
THE BOHEMIAN" +"
An Interesting Sketch of Eugene
Davis, Student, Journalist, Poet
and Wanderer.
BORN in IRELAND IN 1856.

His Pert In the Discovery and Dis
comfort of Pigott's Treachery
to the Irish Cause.
Near the Four Courts stands the An
gel. says Walter Leckey in the True Wit
ness. A by path connects this old inn
with the home of Irish law. This path
is we'll known to the curly-headed barris-
ters, who have looped their togas around
their waists, make sudden sally, between
acts (for the charge Of his lordship is de.
cidedly dramatic), to the better loved
bar in the Angel. There rosy-faced,
smiling damsel, with wonderful dexterity,
is ready to open any case at the pleader's
call. For limited number, she will
even open cases reserved for years. It
was dreary winter'sevening, such one
as can only be indigenous to Erin, that
found the writer on this much frequented
path, vending his way to mine host of
the Angel. For few hours he had pa
tient]y listened to the vituperation of the
Irish peasant from an Irish Bench, and
that by time serving Irish Judge
known to disreputable notoriety as "Pay-
ter the Snob." This soulless monologue
ended, the writer found himself in the
company of few barristere, condemning
this most shameful prostitution of the
Bench for political purposes. The invl-
tation to take the path succeeded, and in
few minutes he stood gazing at the
chalk angels holding lamps, twin guard
of the second story of the Angel. The
barristers, having quenched their thirst,
returned to hear Councillor Walker
while I, mindful of the fact that I had
note OF Introduction to gentleman at
this inn. fumbled in my pocket for the
precious document. Curled up amid a
mass of other Introductory matter I
found it. The address was simple: Eu-
gene Davis, Esq, Angel Hotel, Dublin.
How I came to have that letter takes me
back to another continent. Was I not
afraid of being called a plagiarist 1
might follow electric Corelli and call this
paper sr.
"a ROMANCE OF TWO CONTINENTS"
A year previous to my visit to the An
gel, to the newspaper man, I had formed
one of party that met at the house Of a
civil engineer in West Philadelphia to
have pleasant chat. The engineer
claimed that he was an exile, driven
from his native isle by the nefarious
cruelty Of the English Government. He
was man OF more than ordinary inteli-
gence, quick in perception and keen of
tongue. He was we'll versed in general
literature, but particularly so in that of
his own country. From the works of the
greatest, as we'll as from the works of
the least of his land, he could quote for
hours. His quotations were not ct the
common kind, drawn from choice selec-
tions and marked trite, but were spark
ling, apt, choicely gifted to the matter in
hand, and used with the consummate
skill of an illustrator to enhance the text.
One of his citations curiously caught my
fancy. I asked who was the original
giver of this ware, and told that it was
Eugene Davis, just then of Paris, but
like all Bohemians, was Cosmopolis
The engineer, who had known Davis in
Paris and Lousanne, read me many tiny
poems from the same hand, and showed
me few MSS. verses given to him by
the bard. Before leaving the States I
had read that Davis was in Dublin, and
hastened to procure letter of introduc-
tion, not from the engineer, fer reasons
that are we'll known to those intimate
with inner Irish affairs, but from my
journalistic friend, who had in the mean
time formed letter acquaintance with
Davis. This was the curled, crampled
letter I held in my hand as I saluted
mine jolly host of the Angel.
"Does Eugene Davis live here?" I
asked.
take this gentleman. to Mr.. Davis
room, said mine host. A porter, CHEEKY
faced, and roguish eyed led the way, I
saluted the twin chalk sentinels, turned
to the right and clambered up another
flight of stairs. Here is what you are
after said the porter, knocking with his
knuckles on the door. "Push,' said q
strong voice sfrom within The word
suited my action. The door fell back On
lIaz its hinges, and I was in company Of two
men. 4Mr. Davis he1e?" and I held out
my hand with the letter. One Of the
s gentleman arose, Y veritable giant in
u ifor1 and took the letter from my hand.
Y o,lla b not help mnttering to myself,
Dayis,|l Il Irish Her4