The times dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1903-1914, 1910-08-29

as many short stories as lie could be-
fore brain and hand stopped. Alone
and silent he fought 1t out He had
always avoided society, but in the last
month he became a hermit. He shut
himself up, kept his telephone off the
hook, and went abroad only for daily
walk---a painful, eXhausting passage
of three blocks over to Madison Square
and three blocks back"
Especially indicative OF the persist
ent "gameness" of the man were his
last days. In the final hours of his
life he was still working away, and
when the blow came he was just able
to drag himself to the telephone to
call up his oldest friend N the city
and ask his assistance. HIS friend
found him on the floor. in complete
collapse. While the doctor went to
arrange with the hospital. Sydney
Porter, holding his back with pain, set
calmly about settling up his affairs"
1t Is related in Mr.. Twins story that
q few months before his death, Mr..
Porter had discussed Immortality with
friend. 1t was in this conversation
that Mr. Porter said:
did you ever hear the little chick
ems picking at The shells trying to
get out? We're like them. We're
picking at our Shells
But outside? What happens when
we get out?"
Porter's reply was: would there be
any sense In 1t? Suppose you and 1
got another chance, with the expert
ence and knowledge we have now
wouldn't we boggle up our lives just
as badly?"
Then he changed the subject. AS he
faced death, his attitude seems to have
been altered and his mind turned back
to this conversation. He asked the
same friend to whom he had been
talking months before:
Would we boggle them up? Or
would we know how to play the
game?"
That was the last he said about It,
Then they took him to the hospital
"He showed at this point whimsical
weakness of courage" AS he entered
the hospital, from which he was never
to depart in life
chest out, his feet firm-walked as
earls walked to the scaffold. Under
meath all that democracy of life and
love OF the raw human heart which
made him reject the prosperous and
love the chatter of car conductors and
shop-girls-that quality which made
Sydney Porter 20. Henry"-lay pride
in his good Southern blood. 1t was as
though he summoned all this pride of
blood to help him fight the last battle
like man and Sydney. In the early
morning of Sunday the nurse saw him
move. He was looking toward the
window; there was no sign yet of
dawn. He rolled his head back toward
the dim hospital lamp and whispered:
Turn up the lights: / don't want to
go home in the dark The nurse
obeyed, and seeing the change in his
face, called the doctor. But Sydney
Porter never spoke again. Just before
his spirit mingled with the peaceful
ocean of unnumbered souls, he looked
up and gave them one of his quick
smiles. And on that smile he died.
Il don't want to go home in the
dark'-what man in dying ever so ex-
pressed his very self? The iesting
phrase of the street-that catchword
of the day carried through layer after
layer of feeling and consciousness until
it touched the depths and became
poetry! More: he carried within him
all the tragedy in this world as well
as all the mirth; for that is the law of
the masters. Such as he cannot quite
face the sadness of things. else the
soul would sink under the weight of It.
AS one such silence for defence and
one affectation, Sydney Porter had an
appearance of cynicism; he shielded
his soul with fippant and humorous
phrases And / do not doubt that In
this phrase with its balance between
humor and poetry, he fortified himself
to face the world outside the she'll"
There was something Of the heroic
about this man, as he faced death and
ran race with it, that he might pro-
vide for has wife and child. Familiar
as he was with the facts and the peo-
ple OF this life as men are only now
and then, he was helpless when he
looked to the hereafter-the life of
which he knew nothing definite. In
terpreter Of human nature in its vary
ing phases, the final phase OF life he
could not interpret.
--=--------
The Farmville Herald wants to know
"Where Richmond is at?" AT the same
old place, dear contemporary. the head
9 o,,,o,a+to, an tba IameS River and