The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1909-04-07

IE2&1I to call "At the Sign of the
49, Wren's Nest t" as the home
of the late Joel Chandler Harris was
popularity known. The author, as
doubtless you have often heard, was
a shy, gentle, dreamy soul; and,
while his gracious wife always gave a
hospitable welcome, yet it was rare
that she could coax her husband to
come out from his den and face these
admirers.
But when the Laird of Skibo''
not so long ago rolled up in his big
red car to the tiny, swinging gate, he
struck the psychological moment.
Behold! as the plain Scotchman peer
ed from under the brim of an ugly,
over-big hat, and anXiously asked,
rs he here?" there on the verandah
stood the PLAIN Georgian, another big,
ugly hat pulled down over his eyes.
And some common strain-was it the
hats? was it the genuineness, the rug
ged sincerity each instantly recognize
ed in the other?-drew the two
straight together.
Uncle Remus Said "Howdy"
TTNCLE Remus, instead of beating
- the hasty retreat expected by his
family, smiled broadly, came down the
steps, down the little white path to-
wards his gate, out of the shadow OF
the vine-clad cottage, and into the
Scintillant Southern sunshine
"Howdy?" he said extending
cordial hand to the Laird.
"How's Brer Rabbit" asked the
Ironmaster, with feeling.
The great Storyteller gave that
little chuckle for which he was noted,
peculiar small sound, accompanied
by misunderstanding, and then led
his guest across the strip of lawn to
a red and green bench under a tree,
where they sat down together, two
givers of books to the world,-yet in
what a different sense!
Much alike the pair looked in some
respects, and either might have pass
ed for good farmer-both in easy,
well-Worn clothes, old shoes, and big
hats.
We'll, well,-and how are you?"
asked Laird Andrew.
POLY" replied Uncle Remus; and
again the irresistible chuckle, half
bashful, wholly humorous.
Why, what's the matter?" inquir-
ed Mr. Carnegie, with real anxiety;
and he scanned the round figure and
beaming face.
Pm thinking Of applying to you
for pension" returned the writer.
ut seems I'm about to be cut out of
an honest living"
''How's that?" the other asked
quickly.
Its this phonetic spelling you've
started"
why, bless you, man. I'm just do
\
how much l like you and your spell
ling"
That's the trouble rejoined Uncle
Remus; when folks in general see
how easy it is, what's to keep every
body from taking to writing dialect
stories?" And when they both laugh
ed, it was indeed good to see.
His intimates claim that Mr.. Har-
ris was never but once in his life a
guest at a public function, and that
was on the occasion of President and
Mrs. Roosevelt's visit to Atlanta in
1905. The reception committee went
out to "The Sign of the Wren's Nest"
in solid body, for the president in
his letters had most particularly re-
quested that he might meet this Great
American. BY sheer overpowering
force of numbers, the committee cap
tured and brought Uncle Remus to
the station, to help greet the chief
Executive.
When He Met Roosevelt
THE Northern party arrived, intro
auctions were performed, and all
moved towards the carriages. SUD-
denly Mr.. Roosevelt turned to the
master of ceremonies, and requested
that Mr.. Harris should ride with Mrs.
Roosevelt.
But alas! where was the shy teller