The record-union., 1898-02-05
A VICTIM OF FAME.


be able to make anything out of it, and
shan't get any money! said she, with
pout
l believe that she knew that she was
good looking. But had she been Venus
herself. l should have pursued the same
course.
observed, stiff1y.
Its very ill-natured of YOU" said
she.
IT'S the merest self-defense," said /.
Now, that tiger shin?" she suggest
ed, illsinuatingly. I'm sure tale
hangs to that?'
'Of course a. tale hangs to it." re-
piled, irritably. Most tigers have
tails. What are you writing there,
madam"
Only that your conversation abounds
in flashes of bright wit, Mr. Pottinger-
really. that is ALL
ALI Oh, Lord" / groaned.
4 should have thought you would
have liked it, you know. Most people
do-especially when I do it. Now those
Oriental vases? l suppose one of your
ancestors brought them home from
-?''
Bought 'em of Jew
"Ah, you poke about in old shops?
How interesting. You may often be
seen, 1 expect. peering in at the"
Never, madam"
"Oh, what love of a cat! He's your
great companion and friend, isn't heo
I'm sure he is"
ITS the lsndlady's. and I kick the
beast out whenever l see it."
"Ah, perhaps you suffer from nerves?
Most poets do, of course. You must
have perfect rest and quiet to-"
I'm as strong as a horse, thank
YOU
And you live quite alone in these
lovely rooms?''
when 1 can command solitude,
madam, I enjoy it."
oh, thank you so much. I'll just
put that down. It's so characteristic
of genius, isn't it? You love to be alone
with your thoughts, don't you? 1 know
the feeling so We'll"
You do not appear, however, to ap-
preciate it in others"
Not quite so fast, please; / can't get
it all down"
Controlling myself with an effort, I
SAID IN nrm tones:
II distinctly forbid you to put in a
word about me-"
"Oh, there'll be nothing you can pos
sibly object to, Mr.. Pottinger-there
won't, indeed. Do any of your family
write poetry beside your"
DO any of your family besides you
do interviewing?" I retorted. IF so,
I should think you're an orphan
She laughed gleefully and wrote hard
for minute or two.
There! I've got that" she observed,
cheerfully Now is there anything else
that you'd like to tell the public through
me?'
I opened the door and stood with my
hand on the knob.
About your books, for instance. How
much do you get for"
mo, thank YOU" said I, with empha-
sis.
"Or your favorite pursuits?''
Good morning" said 1, opening the
door wider.
''Oh, good morning, Mr.. Pottinger.
oh, who's that over the mantelpiece?
What sweet facet I'm sure it must
be-oh, a. secret. is it? Then 1 mustn't
ask. must I? How eharmingly interest
ing. though. I must just refer to it,
IF you do"
We'll, good morning. Thank you so
much. I'll be sure and send you a pa
per-
The above is a full and true record
of what passed The following is an
extract from what was published:
Mr.. Pottinger, when he is chez lui,
Il He in lot Of
At a glance you can tell that you are in
the sanctum of a skilled collector of
objects dart, and your hosts deep blue
eyes light up with a radiant CLEAN as
he lovingly fondles his priceless Oriental
pottery. The wall is decked with the
skin of a magnificent tiger-the Pottin-
gers have always been mighty hunters,
and Mr.. Pottinger himself can handle a
rifle as deftly as he can turn sonnet
On the cushions of a luxurious sofa
there reposes splendid Persian cat,
evidently the companion, friend and
pampered pet of its gifted master. over
the mantelpiece hangs the portrait of
a beautiful GIRL. and it is easy to see
that this exquisite gem is not the least
Of Mr.. PottinSer's treasures.
Space forbids us to catalogue the
thousand and one delightful objects
which adorn this choice retreat. The
tout ensemble is fragrant Of lettered ease
and wide culture. Nor is the genius
loci one whit out of harmony with the
surroundings which his matchless taste
and untiring diligence in the search for
curios have gathered together from the
four corners of the earth. Mr.. Pottin-
gers slight figure tells, indeed, of a
delicate physique and of the sensitive.
ever-nervous temperament always asso-
ciated with supreme poetic gifts. But
the brain Of the man imparts boundIess
energy to it's frail tenement: the soul
looks out, alert. passionate, indomitable.
through the large eyes. now so strangely
keen. now so ineffably sympathetic.
Sayings full of penetration, hints of
overflowing sympathy with all the sort
rows and troubles which affiict the
world. mingle and alternate with the
most brilliant flashes of wit or the ra-
pier-t hrusts of the most refined and
courteous badinage.
MIR. Pottinger's, indeed, is a person
atty which must be encountered to be
appreciated; for, although he may be
studied to some dearee in his own
priceless poems, yet the man himself
seems something above and beyond even
the finest of his work-a presence, an in
fiuence, in a word, a soul. such as it is
refreshing and inspiring to meet amid
the grays and drabs of this prosaic age.
Never shall we forget the precious hours
which Mr.. Pottinger so kindly spared to
us, and we trust that we have not alto
eether failed to communicate TO our
readers something Of what we were