Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1907-05-19
By EDWIN TARRISSE

writers. S21G
son, he spoke with : -EAakE - -
| impatience of his "cob-
| bling his odes"; dis
| missed lane Austen's novels as " dish wash
ings y; Hallam. the historian as dry as dust
and Goldsmith as an Irish blackguard
were scored by the irritable Sage of Chelsea.
What are these fellows doing?" he asked.
They only serve to cancel one Other.
A characteristic incident illustrates Carlyie's
disposition to infiict pain even ON a friend. AN
artist, who frequented the house Of Carlyle,
painted picture of him In his dressing gown
| smoking pipe by the fireside. and Mrs. Car
| lyle in an arm chair sitting opposite him. The
portrait was hung at one of the Royal Acad-
emy's exhibitions, and. though not striking
| work of art, was purchased by Lord Ash
burton. Carlyle's friend. for five hundred
pounds.
The delighted artist hurried off to the Car
lyles. expecting congratulations on the sale.
| and some manifestation of pleasure on their
part at having such value placed on picture
of themselves and their domestic interior.
He delivered his glad tidings; but the only
response he got from Carlyle was
well. mon. five hundred pounds was just
four hundred and ninety-hve pounds too
| much.
Browning one day left copy of his new
poems at Carlyle's house. In speaking of this
aCC1On TO lennySOn the next Gay, SdTtyic piohC
out with savage snari:
What did that fellow mean by leaving that
| CARLOAD of stones at my door,! q;
Tennyson as Grow1er
lTENNYSON himself, though not nearly so
| i grouchy as the Chelsea sage. was yet con-
| siderable of growler on occasion Especially.
did this tendency his part become manifest
| when he suspected disposition on any side
| to lionize him.
| 1t is related that. at a. dinner in London,
| to which he had gone much against his will
at the solicitation of a relative, the poet
| laureate soon discovered that the company
| were expecting some pearl of thought from
him. He glowered at the gathering in such
a way as visibly to disconcert some OF
| them Then. as if purposely to utter the most
| unpoeticai remark he could devise. with a
| grim smile he turned to his hostess.7-all the
guests in absolute silence, waiting the slightest
| word of genius-and growled out:
MADAM, like my mutton cut in chunks
lin chunks, madam, in chunksl
The Greatest Crouch
lDERHAPS the greatest crouch of htera-
| Z ture was Dean Swift, that whimsical mis-
anthrope. who evinced morbid delight in
humiliating his social interiors because he
himself, when young, had been outrageously
affronted by his superiors.
Swift had acted as private secretary TO Sir
William Temple. Once, when Sir William
was confined to his bed with govt, the
King. William Ill, visited him, and Swift
oficiated as His Majesty's guide through the
gardens of Moor Park. The King taught the
secretary how to cut asparagus IN the Dutch
way. and Swift had also the felicity of seeing
him eat the vegetable.
i Years afterward. when Swift was Dean of
St. Patrick's Cathedral in Dublin, his publisher
Faulkner called at the deanery on business
connected with some proofsheets. Having
been detained until near dinner time, he was
pressed by the Dean to dine with him. Aspara-
gus was one of the vegetables, and the guest
asked for second helping
/ '" Sir" snapped Swift, pointing to Faulkners
plate, {" first finish what YOU have upon your
PLATED"
What. sirl Eat the stalksl" asked the
astonished publisher.
AYE, sir; eat the stalks, or you'll have no
morei King William always ate his stalks
added the Dean in his most imperious man
ner
/ Whereupon the meek Faulkner, yielding to
the Deans will, ate the stalks most submis-
sively.
/ Shortly after the Deans death; Faulkner
was relating the incident as an Illustration of
Swift's insolence. 4
| "And you were silly enough to obey hims"
| asked some one.
/ YES replied Faulkner. land let me add.
| sir, that if you had dined with Dean Swift,
you would have eaten your stalks too"