Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1907-04-28
THE NEW JOHN |,
TALKS FRANKLY
Discusses Richard Occur de
Lion and Some Experiences
in His Own Meteoric Career.
By Clarence L. Cullen.

1 Il
talk with John Lawrence Sullivan, Esq,
citizen of Boston, man of the world. chief
of all the gadiators of the yesteryears
1t was after he had performed hi mono
logue stunt in a vaudeville show on one Of
the piers that found John l.. at his hotel.
He had gone direct to his hotel from the
theater-no lingering by the way to receive
the greetings and the alluring invitations of
the friendly hand shakers Of the Board
walk. For John L. has b - on the aqua
vehicle, without once dropp>s his whip or
losing his hat, for nearly two years now
and. despite all previous history, it really
begins to look as If the old boy is going to
stick. He assuredly talks like somebody
who is pretty sore on the fiagon. Not only
that. but he is restrained by the dictates of
a very well-grounded caution. His eyes
went ba6 few years ago, and the medical
folk have told John with a great deal of
earnestness that if he ever takes even one
more little chance with the bowl thing he
is pretty apt to go blind.
When | found John l.. in his handsome
ocean-fronting hotel room he was swaddled
in a somewhat ornate and elaborate dress
ing gown in his slippers, and settled back
in deep chair, with a drop-light on the
table beside him, reading with the aid of a
pair of gold-rimmed spectacles.
John l.. is now a rotund, gritty, middle
aged man with somewhat prematuIely
white hair. kept considerably longer than
in the old years, and with the pinkish skin
that denotes perfect health His speaking
voice is a deep, musical rumble-about two
octaves lower, at least. than the singing
voice of Edouard de Reszke, the basso. He
is a weil-groomed man, and of the
things about him that strikes the observant
Is that his hands are remarkably small for
a fighters and that his finger nails are
finely mancured. In these, his mcllowed
bully or the plug-ugly about John L. Prob
ably never in the history of the prize
fighting game was celebrated biffer so
wonderfully improved in general manner in
the progress of the years this same John
l.. is. He is a inveterate reader, Showing
a preference for solid historical works and
fiction of the very first rank, and uses
mighty good language. too, with no double
negatives or similar lapses, and showing
Irish knack for turning the phrase or gar
nishing the picture neatly and expressively.
Reading Maurice Hewlett's Book.
Was he reading the fighting news in the
sporting extras when 1 found him in his
deep chair?
He was not He was reading book that
he had bought on the Boardwalk that after
noon. 1t was Maurice Hewlett's Richard
Yea and Nay" that moving tale Of Richard
the Lion-Heart of England. This is a
pretty difficult sort of book for ordinary
consumers of fiction. filled as it is with the
archaic words and the obsolescent forms of
expression of the middle ages But it
wasn't any too difficult for John L.. for he
was buried deeply in it. and his mind was
full of it when l caught him.
This Richard the Lion-Heart fellow
must have been pretty good Indian. from
what 1 can find out" he said, when l
passed some observation about the book
he was immersed in. I've read a lot of
stuff about HMM 1vanhoe,' for one thing
81 ill hot hn h,1a haa,,
the right kind of people. Big sort of fell
low, too, wasn't he? But I'm told that
there's believing what We read nova
days about these giants of the olden times
Charlemagne, it used to be said, was some
thing over eight feet high and built in
proportion, and yet when they opened the
old chaps tomb not so long ago the scien-
tific measuring sharps found that in life
he couldn't have been an inch above six
feet in height.
Anyhow, this Richard man must have
been a swell fighter, or he couldn't have
done all the things he did before they got
him. But wonder if he could have taken
care of himself with his hands alone?
When you come to think of it, the fighters
of his day didn't take many chances, with
those meat-axes and spears and five-foot
swords they used to pack around and all
covered up from the tops of their heads
to the soles of their feet with steel, or
sheet-iron, or whatever 1t was. Anybody
could ride out to battle with all that Of
of them ever manage to get killed with all
of that iron wrapped around them? Maybe
they weren't such tremendous fighters after
all, and It's my belief that one of our
American cavalrymen, man to man and
without any steel casing around EN-, could
put 1t all over those fellows of the middle
ages If they could come back to life.
This Lion-Heart chap must, of course
have been pretty handy as an athlete,
but, of course, there was no chance that
he knew how to use his maulies, for the
game as We know it wasn't invented then
So that, If this Richard person could step
back on this planet now, it's about ten
to one that any fair middle or welterweight
of this period would be able to put him
away in a punch. Big men, unframed in
boxing, are the softest kind of marks, even
for runts who have taught themselves
what to do with their hands in case of
mix. I've seen 1t work out that way any
number of times.
Took Punches Without Retaliating.
in the course of my life I've taken two hard
punches from small men without ever Of
fering to hand them back, and this was
after 1 became the champ, too. I didn't
offer to hand the wallops back because,
both times. I was wrong and, bully as I
used to be when l had the drink in l
never took a stand and stood on it when
/ was dead wrong-and l always knew
when was wrong, at that, no matter how
far gone 1 happened to be. The first of
these punches that came my way was in
Hartford, Conn. There was a little sawed
off Mick acting as gateman at the railroad
station. I was hustling to make a train
He asked me politely to show my ticket
when I reached the gate. / had left
over from the previous night, and any
how. my ticket was away down in my in