Northern Wisconsin advertiser. [volume] (Wabeno, Wis.) 1898-1925, 1899-03-16
KIPLING. THE MAN.
Recollections of the Poet and Story
Keller by Girl.

rockingham is fresh, charming lit
tie place on the south coast of Eng
land. There Sir Edward Burne-Jonss
has beautiful house, and opposite his
nephew, Mr.. Rudyard Kipling, had
taken a place for the summer. NY
mother used to visit Lady Burne-Jones,
and We frequently met the Kiplings
there. / think he visited no other
house in rockingham, because, they
SAID, che had holy horror of being
made fuss Of"
He used to settle himself in his chair
as though he were at peace with all
the wori-, and beam upon us through
his gold-rimmed glasses, and he had
an odd habit of gesticulating with two
fingers on any emphasized word as if
he were knocking nail ito it.
Cnojure rather squant man, with
such a ragged, gorse-like moustache
that you must have liked him very
much to have let him kiss you. Then
a fine chin and jaw, strong in line,
gentle in contour. And my mother
said, "a head wonderful in breadth
from temple to temple" Always he
wore gray suit and he never tied his
shoe laces.
You could see him with his odd walk
that came from the shoulders, lurching
across the village streets on sunny aft
ernoons. He was sun-browned, mus
cular, RADIANT think the happiest
man / ever met. 1 never saw him in
the opening Dut that he was singing
or humming-buzzing perhaps, is 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 a morning. At cost of infinite
trouble he would pile a line of stones
quite near the water; then he would
scramble back to us and we would all
fire volleys together. We were al
lowed three throws to his one, but
think the ratio was afterward reversed,
because he was a poor shot. This rec
reation he called 'decimating an enc
my's palisade," and, as our shots slow
ly brought down the stones, he 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.
1t may be he allowed us to win, but
at the time he never permitted us the
idea.
What used we to talk about? Oh,
about dogs and birds and children (of
which he was genuinely fond) and the
pleasant nothing at ALL Always there
were about him a simple sincerity and
directness of talk which they say are
only met in the very great and the
very little. About his books-his 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 ne liked the
place. Then he stopped, whistled 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 Kipling children were uncanny
little souls, original in manner, rather
than pretty in feature. There are
three of them--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 less 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 PANIED
upon them they enlivened themselves
in 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 a row on the beach,
removed the signs OF battle, solemnly
kissed, and then the queer little trio,
hand in hand, would go singing home
to lunch.-London Sun.