Iowa County democrat. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1877-1938, 1899-03-16
klPLlNG. THE MAN.
"''o''eet'ons of the Poet and Story
TELLER by Girl,

leller by Girl,
'ot"hSdean Is fresh, charming lit.
Tic place ON the south coast OF Eny-
lahd' There Sir Edward Burne- Iones
uas a beautiful house, and opposite his
nephew, MIR, Rudyard Kipling, had
taken II place for the summer, NV
mother used to visit Lady Burne- ,)onea
and we frequently met the Kiplings
there | think he visited no other
house In Rottingdean. because, they
sa1d, "he had n holy horror OF belnr
made fuss Of"
Tie used to settle himself In his chair
as though he were at peace with nil
the wori>, and beam upon us through
MS gold-rimmed glasses, and he had
nm Odd habit OF gesticulatlng with two
hhsers on any emphasized word as II
ne were knocking a nail ITO IL.
Cnojure a rather squant man, with
such ragged, gorso-like moustache
that YOU must have liked him very
much to have let him kiss you. Then
fine chin and jaw, strong in line.
sehtie IN contour. And my mother
said, N head wonderful In breadth
from temple to temple" Always no
wore n gray suit and he never tied his
shoe laces.
You could see him with his odd walk
that came from the shoulders. lurchinr
across tho village streets on sunny aft
crnoons. He was sun-browned, mus
GUAR RADIANT think the happlest
man ever met. never saw him In
the opening uut that he was singing
or humming-- buzzlng, perhaps, Ia the
better word.
His amusements? Well, he used to
cycle across to Brighton, when we all
used to stand In the road to see him
start, and he would return In the even
Ing to dinner. Or we would miss him
for two or three days and find he had
gone away to Ireland Sometimes,
with my sister and |, he would sit on
the beach at rockingham and idle
away morning. At cost OF Infinite
trouble he would pile a line OF stones
quite near tho water; then he would
scramble back to us and we would all
llre volleys together We were al
lowed three throws to his one, but I
thlnk the ratio was afterward reversed.
because he was a poor shot. This rec
reation he called "dccimatlng an enc
my's palisade," and, as our shots slow
~ brought down the stones, ne would
get quite excited, and his shoe laces
become more and more united. Also
we would fling stones out on the sea,
ana In this, too, we always beat him,
II may be he allowed us To win. but
ut the time he never permitted us the
Idea.
What used we to talk about? oh,
about dogs and birds and children TOT
which no was genuinely fond) and the
pleasant nothing Mt ALL Always there
were about him a simple sincerity and
directness OF talk which they say are
only met In tho very great and the
very little. About his books--hls own
or anybody else's- he never made re-.
mark. Once, when we spoke OF India.
he said he went there when he was
quite child, ana had stayed there
very many years. and that he liked the
place. Then he stopped, whlstlcd 20
his dogs, and we all went In for lunch
con. But really his talk was In no
way as remarkable as that OF twenty
obscure men know In London.
The KlpliDg children were uncanny
little souls, original In manner, rather
than pretty In feature. There are
three OF thom-two girls and a boy;
all the summer they went about,
whether In their house In the village
or on the beach, always without shoes
or socks, and their legs and hands were
sun-burned to gypsy brown.
Their great sport was to fling stones
one at the other In a kind OF triangu.
lar duel. When this recreation paiied
upon them they enllvened themselves
In A grand international fight, con-
Quoted on all sides with great spirit
and determination, the girls as eager
combatants as the boy. When all was
over they sat In n row on the beach,
removed the signs OF battle, solemnly
kissed. and then the queer little trio,
hand In hand, would go singing home
10 lunch. London Sun.