The Birmingham age-herald., 1905-01-01
WITH THE POET
 OF LIGHT AND JOY

without line! To understand is far more divine than to speak. Miller at the least taught me how to see the Light and | Beauty of the world with Gods eye-God
 who saw everything that he had made, | and acknowledged that it was good | thank God 1t was the biggest lesson. Miller Is the poet of Light and Joy. we were talking one day on Japan and things Japanese Our talk came to the subject Of the cherry tree. And he said:
 Don't you know that the Lord God planted a garden eastward in A4den wherein he caused to grow everything tnat IS pleasant to the sight and good for 1ood? Observe that the trees pleasant
 to sight came firstl The trees good for food were considered last It is great to know that of all the thousands of famous Japanese cherry trees there is not one that even bird would eat. The Japa- nese cherry trees are only pleasant to the sight !"
 Yes, Miller is endeavoring to make ev- erything in the world pleasant to the sight. He is Gods gardener, as he often says. And simplicity Is the keynote of his way of living and of his poem. Ger tainly simplicity is sublimity and beau- ty.
 Shall I take you in his cottage, just one-roomed cottage-his sanctum?
 Must l apologize if I quote from Miss Morning Glory's American Diary of a Japanese Girl' Considering that Morn ing Glory and l are one person.: 'I volunteered to clean his holy grotto 'The little cottage brought me a thought of one Jap sage who lived by choice in a ten-foot square mountain hut. The venerable. MT. Chomei Kamo wrote his immortal -Foot-Square- Record bureau, a bed. and one easy chair-everything in the poets abode in- spires repose-occupy every bit of space in MT. Heines Joaquin Miller's) cottage. The wooden roof is sound enough against storm. A fountain Is close by his door. Whenever you desire you may turn it's screw and hear the soft melody of rain.
 That's plenty. What else do you covet?
 The closetlessness of his cottage is symbol of his secretlessness. How en- viable is an open-hearted gentleman! Women can never tarry day in a house without closet. He never closes his door through the years. "A piece of wire is added to his en- trance at night. He would say that would keep out the tread of dog and newspaper reporter.
 Not even one book! He would read the history written on the brow of a star, he will say, if I ask him why.
 Every side was patched by pictures
  there anything sweeter to muse upon than personal knickknacks?
 "Oh, such dust!
 "I swept it.
 But I thought phlosophically after
 ward. why should people be so fussy with the dust. when things are but an other form of dust. What a faraway smell the dust had! What an ancient colori"
 Miller comes down from the Heights to San Francisco or to Oakland only once a week to get provisions. How he hates to see himself In town. It is because the crowds disturb his peace and thought.
 Even at his home he frequently shuts the door, hearing some picnic party com ing up, although his cottage is some one hundred steps from the public road. "Si- lence," he will murmur. When he would come home with some meat and bread he ! used often to send me up to his mother with the first share of the provisions. have rarely seen so kind a man to his mother.
 | We used to cook by a rivulet and eat under the white rose bushes. "Remem- | Der, this is a sacred service. Silence | helps your digestion" he would say | Eat slowly. think something higher | and be content" So our dinner usually | lasted more than two hours. What de- | lightful experience!
 | Four years-though I did not stay through all those years-passed like one night when left there for the East ana London and nearly found out how quick | time goes.
 | How often Miller and I went to hunt | quail for Mrs. Millers breakfast. The most dear old lady she isl And we would return carrying only one or two spar rows! And Miller would rest on his hoe. rub down his long beard for moment or two and tell of Rosetti and Holman Hunt
 How often I went with him into the canon to build a new road! l carrying Thoreau's book - was quite Wild about him onee-he with his ax. He was my very first friend God ever gave me in my American life. And ever since he looked upon me as his own son. It was from Miller that l received the first greeting when I returned from England, where I published my From the East ern Sea-" with much success:
 Come back, my sonl Your room is still waiting for you. Come, come" he wrote.
 Yes, MT Miller, I am coming