Omaha daily bee., 1909-06-27
EN@6

" an dkeut "hiNt-hditdi hNlc
9QfNyHI breath Of a little man -
- who had a saying that any
piece Of literature to win for itself
a place among things that are eternal
must carry with it's reading a mood of
gentle psthos. To illustrate his point, in
a voice that cracked like crushing parch-
ment, but with a daintiness Of utterancc
that told Of the relish with which he
tasted the lines. this tiny. chair-full of
wisdom, seated before an old-fashioned
table at the bottom of a great amphithea-
ter, would read Millions "Lycidas" or
Shelley's "Adonais." And then would be
worked a modern miracle. Some 400 or 500
churlish, cub undergraduates would grad
ually lapse into quietness, then intermittent
attention. and finally breathless interest,
before the sound of the exquisite lines, al
most coaxingly read by the old professor.
But one day the little old fellow was sort
Of blown away. Even death had not the
heart, much less the mood, of using a
scythe on him. And that was the last
ever seen of the bodily feeble but mentally
vigorous apostle of liberal learning, who,
on the strike Of 9 every morning, would
smilingly toddle down the center aisle of
an amphitheater filled with bowling
dervishes till he came.
Not only to the Greeks, but to all Of us
is IL given sometime to cry Adonais!" he
would say, 'and 1t is a profitable literary
recreation, gentlemen, to compare the
varied ways Of men Of letters who have
uttered the lament"
The saying is now recalled by the latest
cry Of "Adonar' that has come to enrich
H. - AA.~a hHN
possessed of the very soul Of poetry.
It is this passage that follows, from the
pen Of j. NJ. Berrie, upon the death of
George Meredith. Here is a cry of Adonail
that would have brought great Joy to the
little professor of rhetoric-and a finer
tribute could no man offer to any literary
treasure:
NEITHER DoRKING NOR THE
ABBEY"
IAN morning there had been a little
gathering Of people outside the gate. The
funeral coach came. and a very small
thing was placed in 1t and covered with
flowers. One plant of the wallflower in the
garden would have covered it. The coach
took the road TO Dorking. followed by a
few others. and in a moment or two all
seemed silent and deserted, the cottage.
the garden and Box FIill.
1.-The cottage was not deserted, as they
know who now trooped into the round in
front of 1t. their eyes on the closed door.
They were the mighty company, his
children, Lucy and Clara and Rhoda and
Diana and Roue and old Mel and Roy
Richmond and Adrian and Sir Willoughby,
and a hundred others, and they stood in
a line against the lockwood, waiting for
him to come out. Each of his women car
ried a flower. and the hands OF all the
men were ready for the salute.
I'm the room on the right, in an armchair
which had been his home for years-to
many the throne OF letters in this country
sat an old man, like one forgotten in an
empty house. When the last sound OF the
coaches had passed away he moved in his
chair. He wore grey clothes and a red
tie, and his face was rarely beautiful, but
the hair was white and the limbs were
feeble, and the wonderful eyes dlmmed
and he was hard OF hearing. He moved in
his chair. for something was happening to
him, and It was this, old age was falling
from him. That is what IL meant by death
70 such as he, and the company waiting
knew. His eyes became again those OF
the eagle. and his hair was brown. and the
l~ustiness of youth was in his frame, but
still he wore the red tie. He rose, and not
a moment did he remain in the house, for
golden lie the meadows. golden run the
streams and the fields and the waters
shout to him golden shouts He flung
open the door. as they knew who were
awaiting him he would do, and he stood
there looking at them, a general reviewing
his troops. They wore the pretty clothing
in which he had loved TO drape them: they
were not sad like the mourners who had
gone, but happy as the forget-me-nots and
pansies at their feet and the lilac over
head. for they knew that this was his
coronation day. Only one was airily In
mourning, as knowing better than the
others what fitted the occasion. the
Countess De Saldsr. He recognized her
sense OF the fitness of things with a bow.
The men saluted. the women gave their
flowers TO Dahlia to give 70 him., so that
she should have his last word, and he
took their offerings and passed on. They
did not go with him. they went their ways
20 carry his glory through the world.
without knowing why, for HIS work wa
done. he turned 20 the lett, passing his
famous cherry-blossom, and climbed be
tween apple trees TO a little house Of two
rooms. whence most OF that noble com
pany had sprung. He went there only be.
cause he had gone so often. and this time
the door was locked. He did not know
Why nor care. He came swinging dow
the path. singing Justify and calling to his