The Press., 1916-04-26
PUZZLED THE POET
The Societies Formed to Study
 BroWning's Works.
HE DIDN'T FEEL FLATTERED.

Thought It Peculiar That It Required
 Organized Effort to Understand His
 Genius Afternoon Tea and a
 Story About Tennyson.
 In her book Pleasures and Palaces Princess Lazarovich Hrebelianovich, formerly Eleanor Calhoun of Califor- mia, who as 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 thuse who dwell in marble halls" Gin nsland, be 1t said, they are not mar ole. but sculptuI, d wood or sculpture stone and ancient tapestry), but in that vast universe of houses, big and small, whose lights glimmer softly through hay atmosphere or blink morOsely ill i.,c fog, where the aristocrats of genius a.:so rove. On certain days, from gray IL dull, the place suddenly frightened ..i.o u new entertainment, as into my pi, ture there came along some poet or painter, some writer of novels or other great one whose name since childhood had made my heart fiutter like the yell low peoples on the California hills.
 In response to the invitation, Wont you come in for cup of tea with us on Wednesday afternoon?" I had gone to the house of new acquaintance, iilding in reality crush of fashionables. in her drawing room. She put me into n 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 Procter Garry CornwalD, mother of Adelaide Procter; MT. Browning-the poet, you know"
 At the names my heart thumped. l was wedged in between them.
 T surely have lucky star," said, ito think of my good fortune in being placed just here!"
 Yes" piped the old lady merrily;
 it's nice to like ones fellow sardines.'
 Browning said:
 II am always glad to meet Ameri-
 ans: they are so appreciative, only i'll one way they're worse even than our people here. l think I may say that the thing that puzzles me most in the world is the Browning society, and America seems full of Browning so- t.ietieS.
 That shows how much you mean to America" l ventured.
 "II-m, yes," he answered dryly, 'it isn't very flattering to think you can't be understood without the aid of or ganized effort" He was very sweet md laughed at himself.
 1 mentioned Tennyson. Old Mrs Procter said: Look sharp. He does not love Americans. I simply adore dearest. I've tried in hundred ways to have him meet Lowell, but he an swers like brute. I'll not give up, though. Lowell wrote me a poem on my birthday. I thought that would fetch Alfred, so I took it down to firted it before his face.
 "'You shan't read it, I said. He srunted. folded it up and stuffed it nto my pocket and said, I'm back to town He pouted like a naughty | hild. seized my hand and growled: tl "'YOu may read it. .s.,..-.
 "'Oh, no, never,' I said. He finally l insisted. Well, since you beg me to, ii )egins like this: "I know a girl, they say she is eighty" = I paused - 'amiliarr snorted Alfred, never crack ng 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 DianO Fvarvhodv said "'Shr'