Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1910-06-12
Clarence Cullen Tells
of O. Henry's Life


writer Conrad, whose literary genius is
appreciated by comparatively few He felt
| positively sardonic over the fact that
Conrad. In place Of himself. did not have
| a reputation extending around the world.
| He was slow writer. despite the fact
that, until two or three years ago, it
seemed as If every prominent magazine
IN the country was advertising stories by
Q. Henry. Not few Of them advertised
sucn stories when they had no right
to DO SO. for the purpose of pushing their
| publications. o. Henry never protested
about this, however-he never protested
about anything. But he would not work
| money offered to him. and many of the
| oners that were made to him for stories
were little short of stupendous. The
| magazine that could truthfully advertise
| by 0. Henry could confidently rely upon
| enormously increased sales so that it
| was well within the hand of such pub
locations to offer o. Henry almost any
sum for such a story.
-
If o. Henry died in debt to any
magazine, it is strictly the fault of the
magazines. They besieged him with i'm
plorations for Stories and they literally
| forced their checks upon him. Time and
o6ohi 1lC ~OuiO SSllu SUCH CUcCkS DdCh
| with the simple statement that he saw
no possibility of doing the work asked,
and by return mail the checks would be
brought to him again, with more urging
Not fnfrequently he sent the same check
back three or four times, and then, in
despair of convincing magazine editors
that he was in earnest as to his time
being engaged and the impossibility of
his doing the work ahead of him, he
would toss the check into a little basket
on 1-,~it l.
until the dust accumulated thick upon 1t.
AT that. highly as he was paid for his
work. 1 doubt if o. Henry left anything
worth mentioning. He hadn't the faint
est symptom even of an elementary, A
BIC knowledge of business, in the first
place, and, in the second. he was for
ever giving his money away. He was
what is colloquially known as an easy
mark" for begging letter writer's. This
was always a source of wonderment to
me. 1t was inconceivable that a man
could at one and the same time write
such wondrously subtitle stories and yet
possess so wide a streak of perfect SIM
plicity. He believed the perfectly obvious
tommyrot yarns of the begging letter
writer's, and he responded to the appeals
of great majority of them. Not only
that. but he would send them. usually.
the exact amounts they asked for in their
letters. If one asked for 81 to bury
dead relative 81 was sent; If another de-
sired $40 to return to the old country
SO was promptly mailed, and it was no
uncommon thing for him to send much
greater amounts to the professional beg
sing letter writer's
Once I was riding with him in an au-
| tomobile through Central Park when we
came upon a smash-up. A big touring
| car had run into a ramshackle park ba
| rouche and made kndling wood of 1t.
The owner Of the smashed vehicle was
an antique Irishman, very shabby and
very rueful about his wrecked caloosh-
for the driver of the touring car had
gone right on without ever even a hand
wave back Henry prodded the chauf-
| feur to pull up. and he studied the situa-
ton for a spell. Then he dug into his
pocket and produced yellow bill-a
ffty-dollar bill. He blarneyed the rueful
| old Irish Jehu a bit and then handed
him the bill. not with any air of osten-
tatton, but as a simple matter Of course.
On the following day he needed the
money to pay for the rent Of his little
apartment in 26th street, and he sent a
whimsy letter to an intimate friend a
| magazine man, for the money. 1t goes
without saying that he got it.
A great part of o. Henry's young man.
hood was spent in Texas but he had been
great wanderer before finally settling
down to the writing business in New
York. He was a cow puncher for sew
eral years, then a pharmacist. then
squib writer for Houston paper, after
| ward the publisher for a little while of
Brann's Iconoclast, and after that Henry
did a sight of aimless wandering in Cen
trail and South America. He was present
at at least three Of the comic opera Cen
trail American revolutions" about which
he wrote so deliciously, and he roughed
| it in Honduras for a considerable period.
A great many purely imaginary stories
have been printed during the past week
as to how o. Henry became writer of
short stories.
I had that story from his own lips
while dining with him at little Italian
table d'hote in It'll avenue, New York. 1t
| was no longer time ago than the be-
ginning of last winter when he told me
the story.
Along toward the mid-nineties o. Henry
struck New Orleans, broke" He had
actually been reduced to the necessity of
| taking job as a drawer of soda water
in q Texas town. Two weeks of that
was enough for him, and he made" New
Orleans somehow or another. There was
considerable difficulty in making that
town. but he didn't go into the details
of the trip.
When he got to New Orleans he tried
for work in the newspaper offices, but as
dppcdIoHCc WASH particularly PROS
porous, he never found it possible once
to get by the inquisiive lads outside the
editors offices.
Finally he was reduced to taking job
as a shovelman on Some river draining
work in progress below New Orleans. It
was hard. heavy LABOR, but he stuck it
out for several months. He lived in a
miserable river SHIRE shack for laborers.
and at night, aftfr his blistering work of
the day, he vert to work determinedly
to put into fictional form, using the short
story medium, some of his experiences
while prowling about Central America.
Writing the stories was one thing. but
asking editors to look them over was an
other. He had no faith in the mailing
method of sending stuff, and he had an
idea that the stories ought to be pre-
sented in person. But so poor was his
opinion of the matter he had written that
he simply did not possess the nerve to
besiege an editors office Moreover, his
natural shyness held him back, and his
appearance had roughened considera bly,
owing to his heavy labor with pick and
shovel.
But he fell upon scheme. One of
his fellOW-laborer's aid was invoked. He
was a rough but kindly chap, and there
had sprung up between him and Henry
a great liking. Henry and his laboring
pal plodded into New Orleans one Sat
urday afternoon, and Henry gave his
matey a package of short stories and
told him to do the best he could toward
gaining admittance to the Office of the
editor of a certain New Orleans paper.