Richmond times-dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1914-current, 1915-11-07
ducing his mcager facts.

ducing his mcager facts.
''Hc wore his hair sort u long and
bushy-kind o dark hair ii was--and
velvet collar to his coat. Ho was /,
good-lookinG young fellow"
Fancy calling Shakespeare Il good
looking young fellow" Smith. OF tho
Evening Star. said dryly Not. OF
course. that l mean that Crcclimore
was another Shal.c spcarc. Though.
don't you think maybe. in his own line,
il he had lived
When. by the way, did he dic-nnd
where"
The host shook his head.
You are too much for me. must
have missed hearing; about it at the
time. somehow. | reckon.
The young newspaper men were
equally III Il loss ana Slightly aba shed
thereby; though not ready to admit it.
Robinson. of the Index. with his
ever-rcady. young laugh, came TO the
relief OF the situation with ah epigram,
coined on the spur of the moment.
The bigger the man. the less his
biography matters
"Thc bigger the writcf" Smith.
more seriously, amended odd. isn't
- hotSH Sctll 10 ne any
biography worth mcntioning-.'
Robinson was always ready to
thcoriZc.
because he spins his very cntrails
out in his work. like the silkworm.
maybe. and is all there. but the shell
OF him"
Cox took it up
Was Shakespeare shell. in his
Stratford days"
Il don't say he WAS" Robinson re-
joincd-'and don't say he wasn't All
know is-that he wasn't Shakes
pearc." lie turned TO the literary man
from the metropolis. Isn't it strange
he quit writing? Why on earth do YOU
reckon II was?"
1T always will be a mystery.
Genius is mysterious thing, anyway;
not so much part of a man as some
thing from without. something
breathed into him. which is not him,
nor really his-any II. than the
music belongs to the flute
But fancy hutc--without tho
music! Taylor. Of the Times, struck
in. "Twouid be an awful thing. would's
It, to-to 70 dry of genius. after you'd
had it"
Its better to have had and lost
than never TO have had at ALL" Cox
Il don't know" Smith said. Think
OF the horrible fatncss! y thing that
has always been flat doesn't know what
'latness is. But spent balloon"
lie laughed alphabetically. But we
are getting pretty far from Creekmore.
don't say that his biography doesn't
matter
The seeker after facts smiled, n trine
ruefTly.
only, as YOU say, there doesn't seem
to he any! Even the publishers of his
poems. which he sold outright. know
nothing of him. Nobody seems to know
anything
Well the host said. "he was one
that kept himself TO himself pretty
much. There was a curious streak in
him, maybe. And 'twant very long
before ne kind o. faded away from
here"
Faded away" sardonically Cox com
nented under his breath. Fancy
Sreekmore's fading away from any
where"
His tone made it as If one had spoken
Of the suns fading" out OF the noon
lay sky. The man from New York
was of the Creekmore cult-and he
understood
Wed like to have seen him. wouldn't
"e?' he said.
Cox colorcd with emotion.
Yes. SIR" Wistful-eyed, he glance ed
about the place where that resplendant
presence had hcen-with none now to
give OF IT adequate account! Plates OF
Eggs! Velvet collars! Quiet young
hap, except when reused, All some
people would notice about an arch
angel would be the shape of the wing
feathers!
Isn't there somebody else who re-
members him?' the stranger inquired.
None of that old circle that used to
meet here"
Dick shook his head. II can't rightly
'all up the names of any of 'em-"
He was rather an erratic genius. II
imagine" Taylor said, land did not
make friends. I suppose it is the pen
atty Of greatness"
Greatness! Whose greatncss?"
1t was the old man near the door
who irascibly broke in. The reading
IF the newspaper, poised against the
furnished castors. which had survived
from Crcekmore's day, had from the
hrst been more Of a pretense than a
reality.
The young men laughed little
not without Superciliousncss
Maybe YOU have heard of Creek