The Wichita daily eagle., 1899-02-07
k|PL|NG WON'T TALK
All Attempts to Draw Him Out
End in Nothing. y
HE ARRIVES I'M NEW YORK
Says He Likes America, But
Looks AwfuIIy Bored
HE ARRIVES I'M NEW YORK

New York. Feb. s-The Journal says :Rud-
yard Kiplin is back again. He came in on
the Majestic, and snubbed America as
usual by paying no attention to the harbor
| sights on his way up the bay. He is as
uncommuaicaSive as ever.
He ran right into the new and maddening
customs regulations, and he looked when
the customs inspectors got hold of as he
says Mowgli looked when the Bander Log
carried him off to the Cold Liars.
Kipling still wears glasses and an ex-
preston of amiable boredom. He lid not
chum with anybody on board the steamer
and threw few crumbs to the people who
formed a court around him and waited for
him to be brilliant
Notwithstanding the style Of his recent
stories, the dour Scots engineer Of the Ma
jestic never surprise him once on his way
over talking shorthand account Of the con-
versation between the ash pan ana he
thrust blocks.
A young woman said to him: This IS
the end of my log,oook. One of the clouds
ran the scales OF green from blueish yel-
low to yellowish blue, and Mr.. Kipling
said -
She waited. The glasses over his eyes
magnified They were intensely blue.
He raised his forearm. showed the palm c.
his hand and replied:
Nothing"
Il will write it," she said, ''for your pun
ishment This is the most beautiful of tar-
bors 1t decks itself especially to great you
nothing
Mr.. Kipling laughed in good { huncr.
THAT is pretty and is almost true" he
said Aren't you remorseful for having
slept while we were arriving? Havn't you
an impression of lacking in merit is ira
veler?"
He was nervous and. evidently. ne want
ed 10 change the conversation to machin-
es He was directing ideas straight to
them young intruder said: MY friend,
NJ dHumieres, a poet of the decadence,
has written that Mr.. Kipling is the poet Of
energy How can you expect him to re-
fleet your contemplative mood about an
ephemeral cloud?" Mr.. Kipling had al
ready bowed and vanished.
''There!' the young woman said, you
have frightened him again" And she
sighed.
'At the stairs that lead to his cabin
above the smoking room" a young man
said, 81 asked Mr.. KipHng TO speak to the
public through me and he said: % Moth
ing
"A nihilist" the three exclaimed in uni
SON.
New regulations" said the man ahead
Of him. More trouble"
"Oh. you'd be sorry if there wasn't lit
tie embarrassment at the end of the voyage.
There was none all the while it lasted. The
engines were so precise that they were
painful to one who looked at them Mr..
Kipling said, his eyes scintillating.
by the way" said the man, 'I forgot
to give you that book. I will send it to
you. The title is Paradise of the men OF
Letters They walk under green trees in
sympathetic groups. What they think
prints itself in the reviews and magazines
that pay out the most money to writer's.
They are worried about nothing"
'sI don't think I'd like that Paradise"
said Kipling. The poor fellows have moth
ing to make them sad; how can they be
happy? They do not suffer;ho can they
enjoy themselves
The man made his declaration to the
Custom House Inspector. Mr.. Kipling read
the United States customs notice as If it
were a novel-two quarto pages of closely
printed recommendations. A tall man, who
knew nothing of literature, came to him
from the other end of the room and asked:
Does not your work rack your brains?"
After YOU have written pages and pages Of
a book havn't you pains in the head?''
NO" replied Mr.. Kiping, amably; 'in
the back"
\ physician could tell him why His
paper is placed on the table. at his right,
far from him. and he bends too much to
reach if. He signed his declaration to the
custom house inspector in that way.
Are you reticent in conversation with
interviewers, as a prncple?" Mr.. KipHng
who asked.
'Oh. no. he replied. But if I am ques-
toned it always happens when I have
nothing to say"
He raised his forearm and showed the
palm Of his hand. Then he gesticulated
with both hands. The gold ring on the
fourth finger of his right hand is light, but
it seemed to give a graceful heaviness to
the gesture Of that hand. He said:
And Yet. a man has hardly said a thing
when it gets into the newspapers. I prefer
to write it rather than 20 say It. Written
it has better chance of remaining secret
and confidential"
"Oh. what YOU write goes into book
said an intruder.
Mr.. Kipling put on his overcoat lined
with fur and ran out Of the room as If tne
furies were after him.
Mrs. Kipling-Lithe. delicate. with black
eyes black hair. an expression of active
Nndness-stood on the head of the stairs
talking with Lockwood y. De Forest Mr..
kipiing threw his arms around him. i'm
periouSly. saving. "Oh. how glad l am 10
see You here,''
They ran down the gaugplank to the pier.
in the X section were several boxes Of var
ious sizes some bound with leather and
some bound with canvas, some in oil cloth