Santa Fe daily New Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1885-1897, 1897-08-03
Mr.. NJ. HUMPHREY WARD.
The Unknown Husband of Another Well
known Woman of the Day.

The Unknown Husband of Another Well
Known Woman of the Day.
Written exclusively for The Gentlemen g
Home Journal and no other.]
A mellow English sun lay upon the fair
countryside as the correspondent of The
Gentlemen's Home Journal left the train
at Brentwood near the Tannery, and, get
ting into trap, was whirled down leafy
lanes, all awhile with the blossoming
borders of hawthorn. Dismountng before
the grounds spread out around a stately
pile, compounded of all that is noble in
the architectures of Canute and Queen
Elizabeth, the correspondent nervously
entered the high posted gateway and was
politely greeted by gentleman of refined
manner.
1t was hard to believe that l stood face
to face with the husband OF Mrs. Mary
Humphry Ward, a lady whose books have
only to DO seen to be recognized by any
body who has read them. He made me at
once at home, and in another moment we
were drinking glass of buttermilk pre-
pared by Mr.. Ward himself and chatting
gleefully az girls.
"It is sometimes difficult" said Mr.. NJ
Humphry Ward, Ticking trace Of butter
milk from his whiskers, "to believe that l
am actually the beloved and only husband
of a woman so celebrated as Mrs. M. ii.
Ward, whose books, / am told, are even
sold quite lot to you Americans after the
people on this side the water have told you
that they are good thing"
''Do you find it wearings" Iventured to
ask
ln II
Ward, clasping his hands. soften does
Mrs. W. sit up far into the night writing
pieces with theology and things In them
and then keeps mo awake for hours read
ing me the results of her cogitations. To
one who has the break fast to get l need
scarcely say that this loss of sleep causes
mo to be distraught and irritable for per-
haps days at a time. And she positively
will not allow me to get her hot water
BOTTLE" added Mr.. Ward as if to himself
"Mrs M. H. Ward he went on fondly,
"is everything man ought to ask III
wife who has SO many perplexing theolog-
ical questions to graphic with at SO much
per grapple, according to the avaricious-
ness Of the respective publishers"
"Pardon the apparent personality of the
question:" 1 said, s"but is it true Mr..
Ward that you are tho hero of Robert
Elsmere?' -
"There!" exclaimed Mr.. Ward drop
ping his knitting into his lap and laugh
ing coyly. "Isuppose you are the two hun
bred and thirty fifth person who has asked
me that question"
He then explained how he strove to aid
his wife in her literary work, sitting 81
lently by her side for hours listening to the
irritable squeak of her quill pen, hearing
the solemn PUNK PUNK of her brain as
she concocted her weird and narrowing
romances or anon arising at her sugges
ton and going through number of ges-
lures. In this way, he said, Mrs. Ward
was enabled to make her characters almost
like life.
"And l hold the pens," concluded Mr..
Ward archly.
"Tho pensY" faltered.
Mr.. Ward laughed
Yes" he said IL got the idea from
David Copperfed, You know"
Few could believe, to read the novels oil
Mr.. Wards wife, that he was close fam,
lily connection Of the late Artemus Ward
of this country, and they would be right
about it. Mr.. Ward frankly acknowledges
this. He claims alliance only with the
| Wards of the old country. Geneva A.
| Ward, no said, was an English branch Of
| his family even better known, he under
| stood, and more popular in America thar
| his own. The duties that devolye upon
| one linked to so great a writer as Mrs
! Ward are cheerfully discharged by Mr.. W
| He showed me with pardonable pride the
! kitchen and dairy and let me taste Of some
rare old goosebeTy wine which he had
squat out with his own hands and Of
| which he seemed to be particularly proud.
l did not see Mrs. Ward. She was busy
her husband said, writing up her new
! novel, which, he added in a tone Of pride,
| is to have inside of it new kind of theol.
ogy, such as he believes will prove highly
eff1cacious and sell first rate. At such
| times, he said Mrs. NJ II. Ward was apt
| to be high strung, and strangers annoyed
J her.
$50 it will be better for you to go away
| without looking at her, )" said Mr.. Ward
in his frank, engaging way.
Where the good English highway topped
a neighboring eminence the correspondent
| of The Gentlemen Home Journal threw
a backward look from his trap upon the
cozy home of the Wards, resting under the
halo Of sinking sun. At that moment
one of the mutual children of Mrs M. H.
Ward and husband was engaged in falling
out of choice fruit tree, and his cries dis.
rupted the atmosphere. The next moment
his father rushed frantically out of the
house and deftly plucked the youth from
the sharp bough where he hung impaled.
And the last glimpse the correspondent
had of Mr.. M. Humphrey Ward, that pa
tient man was holding the boy face down.
ward over his knee, while he deftly piled a
long and shining thread and needle.--W.
/ n E,,J1ov Tn IN, Naxr, Voyly Would