The times. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1890-1903, 1894-12-09
LIFE STORY OF A POET
JAMES WMTCOMB RILEY RELATES
HIS EXPERIENCES.
How h Painted Signs on Fences and Got
Into Trouble over Poem Alleged
to he by Poe.
Copyright, 1884,


Hero Is the life story of James Whit
comb Riley, the Hoosier poet, as tOld
by himself from the day ne scTa"Ieu
his first imperfect rhymes IN an uhceI-
tar childish hand TO the present uhle'
III is an intensely human story O4 an
Intensely human being, II is story OF
STIR ggle and stress, OF bitter dlscour-
agements and mistakes sincerely re-
GREETED: OF blind groupings atoms Oh
ecure pathWayS. of new beginnings, OF
sinal h,erseverance in the lace OF al
most infinite difficulties anc OF ultimate
and satisfying triumph 80, -,
MIR. Rileys success possesses some uil =
usual elements. Perhaps his UNIVERSAL
po1ularity among the people OF his own
city, Indianapolis. is the NEST houceaoie
He is. indeed, more than popular in
Indianapolis; he is held IN sincere ana
him and almost everyone knows MS
poems; even the newsboys OF the place
sometimes repeat couplets ana stahZaS
of his inimitable measures. III Is IN IN
dianapolis that his books sell best, ana
the surest way to raise money FOR any
charitable purpose there is TO get up an
entertainment in which James WhltcomD
Riley is q figure. Clearly the Biblical
saying that "a prophet is not without
honor save in his own country may not
be properly quoted with reference TO
Riley and Indianapolis. ON the evening
before the day | listened to Mr.. Riley ;
".
leaux, illustrating his poems, were pre-
scented in aid OF the Flower Mission.
The largest available auditorium in the
city was none too spacious 10 h0id those
who crowded In TO see the tableauX, Tor
the characters were 10 sinmed ana
posed by the poet himself. Some ne
groups were humorous, some were pic
turesque, but the most effective were
those Illustrating pathetic pieces: When
the three tableauX accompanying the
recital of Goodbye jim; Take care o.
Yourself were shown. the voice of the
reader was scarcely an' ne for the sob
bling among the spectators.
His popularity among his own PEG
pie cannot but be gratifying 10 him
but he bears his honors modestly, al
most with fear. lest he shall not con
tnue TO be worthy. When l met him
in the little recess where he keeps his
desk. on the main floor of his Indiana
polls publishers establishment he turned
the conversation by speaking OF the
weather. But when | aGk - I'm how he
came to write his first verses his face
lighter up: his eyes assumed retro
spect e expression, and he smiled.
MIEY's HOME MADE VALENTINES,
at was while | was still a small boy,
he said, that | wrote my first rhymes.
They were the outcome of what seemed
dire necessity 10 my childish mind. You
see, most OF the other children OF the
little town where our family lived were
In the habit Of sending valentines back
and forth. They were of the old-fashon,
ed comic sort; the picures were distorted
caricatures, the verses were doggerel anu
they cost but a cent apiece, but they
looked mighty good TO me- Well, Nalen-
tinc's-D Day was coming. and all the boys
and girls but me were busy getting their
valentines ready TO send. My own broth
er and sisters were busy like the rest
but l was so little that no pennies wer-
given to me for valentines. / wanted u
send valentines, all the same, and so
got some paper and drew pictures. as
much like those on the boushten Valen-
tines as | could, only l tried to make
the faces look like those OF the persons
meant TO send them to. After | had col
ored the rudely drawn figures 10 the
lite, as / imagined. l remembered that
my valentines had no notices. These
supplied out of my own head, making
up the rhymes as l went along. There
wasn't much poetry In these baby com
positions, fancy, but such as they were
they were my first rhymes.
LAS I grew older [ took part In the
simple home entertainments of the neigh
borhood. Recltations were the leading
features OF these modest little gatherings,
and | used TO like to recite In some
way / learned TO try 10 avoid the sing
song delivery that is the snare Of many