The weekly Thibodaux sentinel and journal of the 8th Senatorial District. [volume] (Thibodaux, Lna. [i.e. La.]) 1875-1898, 1895-10-05
4 WORK OF GENIUS.

Hardly Il week had passed since the
MAJ of genius had died il q shabby bed
rUe III Oh tie second floor Of that dingy
lodging house on the kcnsiEGton road,
when Selnc people entered the chamber.
They were the few friends who ad-
hered 10 the lead man in the last black
days If his adversely. Between them
they had paid his landladv. his doctor
and his nurse. CHeof them had adopted
his little ef.ild-thc only relative that
he was llinygn to have. Now they had
cone to.oe the removal Of such papers
and personal elects as he might have
left. lure particularly they wanted to
take lsassess.un. on the child's behalf,
II tie Vel K OF Genius the great play
to (which lie Lad been pntting his finish
ing touches when lie WIS taken Ill.
Mrs. Saunders. the servant girl said,
was cot. Yes. she had had Mr.. Bourne's
letter, hat didn't expect him quite 50
early. She had gene shopping, but was
sIre to be back soon. Would the gentle
men step IL and wait?
- They WouId. So she showed the Wis
itors Tito the little trent parlor, where
the nlan Of genius had lived and worked.
There Were three of thenl-St. John
Bourne, the great tragedian, Lessee and
manager of the Hyde Park theater. who.
seven years before. had produced the
play which had first made the man Of
genius known. Philip Gaythorne, the
dramatic critic. who had extolled ii. in
hysterlcal and almost fearful periods, in
the columns of The Daily Meteor. and
Ralph Ericsson, the young bohemian
barrister, who did not practice. but cul-
tiyated the muses. on a parental allow
ance of 81, 900 a year.
The room in which they sat down to
wait was miserably dismal. A medical
student, who was just then away enjov-
ing himself III the operating thearer Of
ST. Thomas hospital, had succeeded 10
II. indications of his calling were not
wanting. On the m%antelpiece were q
skull and a disorderly of
microscopic slides On the table there
was a stetnoseope, half covered with a
dirty pack of cards. In a corner there
were test tubes filled with glycerin, for
the culture Of tubercle bacilli. There
was a mingled odor of iodoform and
stale tobacco smoke. Altogether the
place was very melancholy and not at
all fit to be the dwelling of Il man of
genius.
The three men took off their hats and
gloves and unbuttoned their fur lined
overcoats and sat down on the leas, uu-
comfortable Of the chairs and talked.
Their talk. Is was natural, wa of the
man of genlus-of his sudden rise. of
his gradual decline. of the great work
that was at last to have retrieved his
fortunes. If he had lived.
Fol- the man had sprung in a night
from obscurlty to greatness. His name
TILL then had been unknown even to
those who make it their business to
keep their eyes upon the Young men of
promise who are presently TO rise. One
day 1t had been mysteriously whispered
abroad that St. John Bourne had discov-
cred a new dramatist Of extraordinary
talent. When public curiosity was thus
sufficiently aroused, there had duly fol- ,
lowed the announcement of THE knight
Errant, a New and Original PLAY. bv
Norman Noules." Then came the pro
duction, hailed with tumultuous ac-
CARNATIONS, and the author passed at a
single step into the front rank of writers
for the English stage.
Philip Gaythorne spoke Of the mem
orable first night.
1 never saw a house more enthusiast |
tic he said, You never had q mart.
Bourne, which fitted you better. but, for
once, | think, there was even more en-
thnslasm for the author than for the
actor. Nobody knew him. We were all
asking each other who he was and where
he came from, and nobody would say.
indeed I'm not sure that | know where
ne came from even now. He was ALWAYS
very retlcent about his BEGINNINGS. +
Have you any idea what they were:"
- something commercial. " Bourne an
swered- 4 rather fancied he manufac-
.ured vinegar, IN a small way. in Ber-
mondsey, Or was it mineral waters2
can { De sure. Whatever it was, the O
fellow would have done better for him
self If he'd stuck to it.
ron tnlnk his success turned his
head, them said Ericsson.
Undoubtedly. He'd been WORKING
u waiting for it for years. caring for
nothing else, thinking Of nothing else.
Nobody encouraged him nobody would
read his plays. l only read The Knich,
Errant' myself BY the merest accident
L took It up Ii night when | WIS spf
ferlng from insomnia, thinking it would
me to sleep. Instead OF that il kent
me awake, and l put it in rehearsal alld