The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1916-04-21
PUZZLED THE POET
The Societies Formed to Study
BroWning's Works.
HE DIDN'T FEEL FLATTERED.

Organized Effort to Understand His
Genius - An Afternoon Tea and
Story About Tennyson.
In her book pleasures and Palaces
Princess Lazarovich Hrebelianovich,
formerly Eleanor Calhoun OF Califor-
MIA, who as II young woman won fame
as an actress abroad. gives this story of
her meeting with the poet Browning:
The revealing charm of London lay
not alone in making acquaintance with
those who dwell in marble halls Qn
England, be it said, they are not mar
be, but sculptured wood or scuptured
stone and ancient tapestry, but in that
vast universe of houses, big and small,
whose lights glimmer softly through
hazy atmosphere or blink morosely I'm
the fog, where the aristocrats of genius
also rove. On certain days, from gray
and dull, the place suddenly frightened
into n new enchantment, as into my
picture there came along some poet or
painter, some writer OF novels or other
great one whose name since childhood
had made my heart flutter like the vel
low pOppies on the California hills.
In response to the invitation, won't
you come In for cup OF tea with us
on Wednesday afternOonY / had gone
to the house of a new acquaintance,
finding in realitya crush of fashionables
in her drawing room. She put me into
seat and introduced me to an old
lady on my right and an old gentle
man on my left, both Of whom looked
very bright and alive.
Mrs. Bryan Waller Proctor Barry
CORNWALL, mother of Adelaide Proctor;
Mr.. Browning-the poet, you know"
At the names my heart thumped. |
was wedged in between them.
Il surely have a lucky star" | said,
"to think of my good fortune In being
placed just here!'
YES" piped the old lady merrily;
its nice to like ones fellow sardines.'
Browning said:
II am always glad to meet Ameri-
cans; they are so appreciative, only in
one way they're worse even than our
people here. | think | may say that
the thing that puzzles me most in the
world is the Browning society, and
America seems full Of Browning So
cieties."
THAT shows how much you mean TO
America" | ventured.
HIN, yes" he answered dryly, at
isn't very fattering to think you can't
be understood without the aid Of or
gained effort" He was very sweet
/ and laughed at himself.
/ mentioned Tennyson. Old Mrs.
Proctor said: Look sharp lie does
not love Americans. | simply adore
Lowell, and Tennyson is one Of my
dearest. I've tried in a hundred ways
to have him meet Lowell, but he an
swers like q brute. I'll not give up,
though Lowell wrote me a poem on
my birthday. | thought that would
fetch Alfred so | took ii down to
Hazlemere, flirted it before his face.
"'YOu shant read it, ! said. He
grunted. folded it up and stuffed il
into my pocket and said, I'm back to
! town He pouted like a naughty
child, seized my hand and growled:
"'You may read it.
"'Oh, no, never | said. He finally
insisted. We'll, since you beg me to, it
begins like this: II know a girl, they
say she is eighty" = l paused. -
| familiar snorted Alfred, never crack
ing a SMILE The old lady chuckled.
"But he's an angel all the same. they're
both angels"
In the midst of our talk somebody
began to play long classical piece on
the piano. Everybody said, "'Sh!'
Browning, who was in great vein,
whispered, 81 abominate piano players
-murderers of conversation" 1t was
cruel: the piano ran the whole gamut
of It's possibilities for half an hour.
Mrs. Proctor and Browning rolled their
eyes at each other and at me as If In
agony. At last it stopped. Browning
applauded frantically holding out his
hands and looking back over his shout
der at us, while he began to say,
"Thank God, It's over! l must tell
you about the strangest experience I
ever had. 1t was In France Just
then the pianist began an encore.
Browning almost groaned: whats
she doing? You don't think she Is go
ing to-
"Yes," ! said, "you applauded SO
hard she had to begin again"
God forgive me!' he walled. Never
again will commit that error"
The old lady choked with laughter,
and Browning bolted for the door.