Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1902-06-14
THE ETHER OF DESPAIR

tain fndefinable ether of despair In the at
mosphere Of New York city which impefs
quite young men and women. with every
thing to live for, with their futures before
them instead of behind them. as the saying
goes. to commit suicide remarked a New
York newspaper man who was in Washing
ton for few hours couple Of days
ago. Il have been particularly impressed
with this idea during the past year or so.
Since the beginning Of the year 1901 no less
than eleven men, all of them young. with
whom 1 have worked in one capacity or
! another have made way with themselves
In New York city. Not one of these fel-
lows had what you might call rough
riding record behind hfm-that is to say,
none of them was dissipated or reckless.
or in any sense wild. as the meaning of
that word is understood nowadays. None
of them possessed to any abnormal extent
that somewhat Oyerdone artistic tempera-
ment which is so often given as an excuse
for the eccentricities of persons who want
to heave boulders at the conventionalities
of the world. Every last one of them was
a thoroughly manly, self-poised, quiet
hammered and, seemingly, perfectly whole
some individual, and yet they all deiiber-
ately and with every sign of premedita-
ton took the leap into eternity before any
of them had attained the age of thirty. The
only way l can possibly account fqr 1t is
that the struggle for achievement IN the
big town. when it is begun at the exceed
ingly early age at which these young men
of whom L am speaking began II. nnahy
generates within them what L someWh nat
impresSioniStically, yet honestly, term Inc
ether Of despair, which causes the world
to look so black before them that they can
no longer perceive the utility or the good
sense of living.
Within the past four days two of the
cleverest young men of whom l had any
knowledge in New York have killed them
selves-Robert Jefferson Ferral and Gusta-
vus Dirks. If anybody had expressed TO
me week ago the opinion that either one
Of these lads would ever make way with
himself l should have unquestionably con-
sidered that person insane. l saw them
both last week. and they were then as they
always had been. Today they are both in
caskets on the way to the homes OF their
parents for burial.
both of them had everything in the
world to live for. Both of them had liter
ally. and by their own talent and eXerton
made the world their oyster, as the phrase
runs. Young Ferral was only twenty-toar'
Dirks twenty-one, and yet both Oh lhel
had climbed over men in their respective
professions that were twice their ages. ana
one of them. Gus Drks, was known by his
work all over America, If not, indeed, over
considerable part of the entire world ne
was the lad who made the famous bug PIC
tures'-those humanity humorous pictures
representing beetles and ants and reaches
and such, engaged in all sorts or pursuits
and amusements that are INDUCED IN by
hi man beings, with their comments on the
same. His brother. Rudolph Dirks, some
what older man. is also famous for GER
tain line of humorous pictures which he
furnishes to one of the illustrated Sunday
New York papers. Gus D1rkS descended
upon New York when he wasn't much more
than out of knickerbockers, and instantly
made a place for himself with his pictures,
SO that for several years past he had had
more work than he could do. at financial
figures providing him with more money
than he could possibly spend, for he was
hot a roySterer. He was as COOL level
headed. well-balanced young fellow as
ever l met UP with, and l knew him very
well. and spent many pleasant hour al
the studio in which he shot himself He
was ambitious to break away from news
paper illustrating altogether, and had
many offers for finer grade of magazine
and book work. He was a student all the
time and remarkably clever with his brush,
and there isn't a doubt in life that he nad
a great future before him.
And yet he just became tired. that
all His friends saw that he was falling
into a way of silence, but, of course, they
never thought anything of it, except that
he needed rest and a Knockout from wo-k
for a bit. One Of his school mates made
him take a short run down to Washington
last week thinking that short sojourn
in this beautiful city would sort OF brighten
him up and relieve him of that jaded feel
ing. But the boy-that's all he was sin
gularly successful and gifted boy-returned
to New York with the same old tired way
ABOUT AIM, ana Oh NOuudy last ne Simply
put pistol to his head and planted a ball
in his brain. after signing out the words,
What's the use? There was no romantic
tachment, no depression from dissipation.
no scrape, nothing whatever of that
character-New York had just got on the
lads nerves, that is all. in my honest opin-
ion.
Robert Jefferson Ferral son Of one of
the best-known men in the state of Cali
fornia. Judge Ferral, ex-iustice of the SUI
preme court of the state, had forced New
: York to give him what he asked of it,
too. not long after attaining his majority.
He was one Of the most sought after
writers Of vaudeville sketches and at the
time Of his suicide last Saturday he had
just been appointed manager of a noted
vaudeville theater Of Philadelphia, with
the prospect of being promoted in the fall
to the managership of a whole chain of
such theaters. In spite of his fathers po-
sition and wealth, the young fellow had
been making a livelihood for himself since
his fourteenth year, simply because he
wanted to be Independent. He had gone
around the world as a youthful magician
and prestidgitateur, then he had become
actor on the legitimate stage, then he
had taken to newspaper work and general
writing in various cities of the country
and finally he had settled in New York
in the capacity l have mentioned, that of a
theatrical manager and writer of short
plays
He had all the money he wanted. He
had splendid health and very unusual looks
he was six-footer, straight as a lance,
and handsome as Mercury He was able
to live as comfortably. and. in fact. as
luxuriously, as he chose, and he did live in
just this way. Some Of the older and
bestknown playwrights of the country
were inviting him to collaborate with them.
Everybody liked him. There was no old
thing that his friends wouldn't have done
for him.
And yet, last Saturday. after a short trip
from New York to Philadelphia, he DELHI
erately tossed off bottle filled with car
bolic acid-a hideous way Of dying. one
would imagine-and quietly told those
around him that the long. long rest was
now in sight-and the strangeness of it.
when you come to reflect upon the matter.
of a man of twenty-four becoming tired.
He was dead inside of ten minutes, and
at this hour an aunt of his who happened
to be in New York at the time is escort
ing his body across the continent to be
buried in San Francisco-he was the oniy
child of his parents.
Now, l simply mention these two cases
In such detail for the reason that they are
the most recent cases that go to prove my
contention that there must be some espe-
cial and intangible sort of gloom in the
air of New York that causes young men to
do Thoir