The Evening dispatch. [volume] (Provo, City, Utah) 1891-1895, 1894-11-23
ANTICIPATING FAME.
sEsANT's PATHETIC sToPY oF"PAUl
THE WANoERER."

TIE WANOERER."
The Quiet Dignity of Han Who Was Liv.
ing For Posterity--A Pretty Little skit
Written In the English NoveIist's mimi.
table Style.
knew him for several years before
his death. When | first made his &C
Quaintance, he was already an old man.
He was also, as was evident from the
frst, very poor man. He went about
stability dressed. He carried biscuits
in his pocket to the reading room on
which he lunched or took snacks at in
tervals during the day, Perhaps he had
dinner afterward but always suspect
ed his dinner to be an uncertain and
movable feast. 1t was understood that
he was something in the literary way.
[ got to know him by sitting next to
him day after day. We exchanged the
amenities of the reading room, apollo
gized for crowding each other with
books, abused the takers, remarked on
the impudence of those who go to the
When l got to know hira better, /
made little discoveries about him, az,
for instance, that be liked d glass of
beer in the middle of the day and that
he could not afford the twopence. Imay
say, not boastfully, that was able to
offer him this little luxury. We used
to go out together for the purpose. He
was good enough to take an interest in
my work. He proved to have a consider
able knowledge of books and gave me
considerable help in this way.
One Sunday | met him in the stree6
We stopped TO speak. He lamented the
closing of the museum on Sunday. For
mis- own part, he said, he would have
the reading room open every day in the
week. Why close the avenues of knowl-
edge? Why damn the fountains and
springs of wisdom? So we walked and
talked He was perfectly dignifed in
his manner, though his great coat was
so thin and shabby that enc might be
ashamed to be seen with him. He stop
ped presently at the door Of a house in
Gigh street, Holboln.
81 lodge here, he said. Twill you
come up stairs and see my hermitage?"
remember that he called it grandly
I his hermitage. He led the way; the
stairs were dark and dirty; he took me
TO the fifth. or fifty fifth, floor. He liv.
ed in the back attic.
This" he said, SIS the cell of the
seG.use. live here quite retired. There
are other dodgers, l believe. but l do
not know them. l live here with my
library in simplicity. The air is whole
some at this height. "
He threw open the window and sniff
ed the fragrance of the neighboring
chimneys The room was clean; the
furniture was scanty; there was no fire
in the CRATE; on a shelf were about 25
booIss-his library. The man looked per-
fectly contented with his hermitage.
There were no papers on the table,
nothing to show that he was writer.
L do not know how he iyod-certain-
ly he did no work at the museum-but
he never borrowed. In one corner stood
wooden chest. He lifted the lid and
nodded and laughed.
"Ahap' he said, "now am going to
reveal a secret You didn't know, no.
body at the museum knows, the people
| in the house don't know, that I am
what 90 you think?-a poet. 1t is 80
years since l paid for the publication
of my collected poetical works. Yes,
sir, and am going not only to commu'
nicate this secret to your honor-in safe
keeping-but to present you with q
copy. There, my young friendl" He pro-
duced thin volume. 81 am Paul the
Wanderer " In fact, the title page bore
the legend, COLLECTED Political Work
af Paul the Wanderer.
Thirty years, he repeated. s"There
we're 500 copies. The press received so,
the public bought four; there remained
446 / have now given you one. There
now remain 445. have bequeathed
these to the public libraries of the ma.
ton. Sir, you are young You will
yourself perhaps publish your poems.
Remember for your comfort that il
takes so years, or two generations
| LOT tH0 uOD1SSU pOSlS W Gdho OueAi
proper place. Greatness-true, stable
solid greatness, not the empty applause
given to an ephemeral favorite-re
quires so years at least Go, sir! Take
the book have given you, and in after
years, when I am gone, tell the world
that you knew-Paul the Wandererp
1 wrung his hand III silence and lef
him. More than so years have passed
since he published that work. No ont
has yet spoken to me Of Paul the Wan
derer. But / now understood his digni
ty, his self respect and his content. HI
was anticipating and enjoying his fu
ture fame He was living for posterity
Present poverty and neglect were moth
'ug. -Walte" Peasant in London Queen
TLrpE uthS< N0 ey ysrssss ~ -