The Bennington banner. [volume] (Bennington, Vt.) 1858-1894, 1894-01-05
STEVENSON'S HOME.
HOW THE GREAT NOVELIST LIVES IN
THE HILLS OF UPoLU.

A Reporter Visited Him and Tells What
He Saw and Heard-His Costume Not
Extensive-A Beautiful Lawn Carefully
Trimmed by a Land Crab.
"Well, no. Pm not passionately fond
Of reporters, particularly the American
variety, but come on in, and I'll have go
with you anyhow"
Such was the greeting with which Rob
ert Louis Stevenson received the announce
ment of my name and business as we met
on the broad veranda of his island home,
lar back in the hills of Upolu, the land of
The southern cross and the sacred hen
There was dim suspicion Of a smile in
the depths of his big black eyes as he ex-
tended his hand-a long thin, cool, patri
clan hand, which fluttered for moment
in the palm of my large, moist paw. Then
he withdrew step, hitched up his trou-
sers and eyed me with the air of nan
who could read the thoughts of another
better than he could express them himself
/ started in to explain that my business
was not to misrepresent or garble the state
ments of earth's greatest living novelist.
"That's all right" he said, laughing
"Come in and see what there is to be seen
and ask us all sorts of questions. Then
run riot with your pen, and when the pa
per comes I'll read the article, damn till
the air is blue and everything will be all
right"
Reassured by this cheerful view of the
future, followed the marvellous man of
letters into the house, where l had what
I've since tried to persuade myself was an
fnko l,
reviewing the hour we spent together, /
am impressed with a vague, uneasy
suspicion that he interviewed me- How
ever, we exchanged large quantities Of
words of an uncomprising nature, inter
spersed with beer and anecdote. While
extremely cordial in his manner, the nov
elist talked guardedly and was careful
not to commit himself on any vital point.
He steered wide of politics and all other
matters pertaining to the islands.
He sat directly in front of me, viewing
the ceiling in a retrospective manner, and
holding u homemade cigarette in his right
hand. On table within easy reach stood
a can of tobacco, from which he rolled a
fresh smoke as soon as the old one gave
out. His attire consisted simply of tight
fitting, sleeveless undershirt, cut decolette
and which set off his sparsely settled fig
ure in startling relief. A pair of black
trousers, rolled up half way to the knees,
completed the toilet of this eccentric ge-
MUS of the south seas. His feet were bare.
While talking he rested his right foot
across his left knee. 1t was a symmetrical
foot, long and slender, and beautifully
arched, and as he talked he gently toyed
among his shapely toes with his olsen
gagged hand. Somehow it occurred to me
while noticing these peculiarities that any
man who would describe Robert Louis
Stevenson as half clad when he was fully
two-thirds covered was taking mean adj
vantage of the authors hospitality.
In stature Stevenson is a little above the
medium, but woefully thin and pale. His
face is gaunt and haggard and wears an
expression of continual WEAKNESS. In fact,
he is i'll most of the time, but is uniformly
good natured in spite of his Affections
Callers are numerous at the rig house in
the hills, dropping in at all hours of the
day and on all kinds Of business, but the
novelist is always ready to meet these So
cial obligations.
He arises at O'Clock in the morning,
eats breakfast shortly otter and works till
noon. At 2 o'clock in the afternoon he
takes up his pen again and labors diligent-
ly till O'Clock. Sometimes he works too
hard, and nervous prostration follows. 1t
is then no seeks rest and recreation in
sea voyage, generally to Sydney and back,
and the journey does him good
The Stevenson household consists of the
novelist his wife, and two stepchildren,
Lloyd Osborne and Mrs. Strong. Osborne
assists Stevenson in his literary labors.
81" Vailima, " which in the Samoan tongue
means "fine waters" is what the novelist
calls his combination residence and fiction
foundry. 1t is an ideal spot for the dream
er and home for the poet and student of
nature. In the middle of u green plateau,
sloping gently toward the sea, stands the
house, a low, rambling, two story struc-
ture of a dull drab color, and with an iron
roof painted glazing red. Deep verandas
encompass the building round about, from
the upper one of which the Pacific ocean
can be seen stretching away to the north.
AT the back the Green mountains tower
to height of 5000 feet above the sea. Six
hundred feet above the level was high
enough for Stevenson, so he cleared spot
in the wilderness of palms and tangled
wood, where he pitched his tent and lives
in peace.
The house is nearly four miles from the
beach and is accessible only to birds, foot
passengers and sure footed native horses.
All provisions and supplies are carried
from the beach in huge iron panniers lash
ed to the back of a gigantic white Per
cheron horse with whiskers on its feet
The animal was imported expressly for the
purpose for which it is used. One of the
sights of Apia is to see Stevenson go shop
ping by proxy in the person of a small
Kanaka leading the pack horse along the
road with its load. The last lap to Vaili-
ma is grass grown path twisting between
two rows of lime trees filed with their acid
fruit No sign of the house appears till
the weary traveller, worn and moist, reaches
a red gate hung to wheels overhead. The
gate opens upon a lawn which is the pride
md joy of it's owner and the wonder of
I'LL beholders, so perfect are its appoint
ments.
There are no ornaments except a few
cultivated shrubs. The lawn itself is the
feature, being as smooth and even as the
best kept grass plot on Mob hill This ar