Year: 1872

|
must have been awful. There was
relief in writing it. What a de.
licious little first vent it must have
been for the fiood-tide of wrath and
love that came rushing after! But
to 60 out and seek somebody else to
find it precious-precious enough
to pay money for it; to set a price
on it; the heart throb to ask price
for it-that must have been awful.
A man going from Office to Office to
sell poem or a'"leader" must be a
sorry sight. A woman compelled
to peddle by voice and eye such a
ware must be sadder sight still.-
She endured many a supercilious
glance, more than one rebuff, on her
weary round. A woman trying to
sell her own composition from bag
no doubt seemed childish to these
men of affairs. The curly head,
the little satchel, the little sketch,
did not look the least like business.
Beholding the three, what prophet
of them could foresee that the dain-
ty reticule with its contents stood
for 1872, 200 copies of single book!
She found an astute purchaser at
last. lie liked the sketch, took it,
and paid her for it-titty cents.


It's fresh fearlessness hit the gen
eral reader; its veining pathos went
home to ten thousand hearts. Fan
ny Fern had hit the right nail on
the head. 1t was golden one, and
she struck again, and yet again, for
twenty years-for sixteen years not
missing single week. She was
fortunate in her publisher. Saga
cious and practical, she selected
one not for his own fame, who wo'd
consider it quite sufficient to stamp
his name on the titlc-pagc and leave
her book to take its chances; but
one whose reputation would in a
degree depend upon her own. AL
ready her "Fcrn Leaves were scat
tered through the length of the
land. People shrugged their shoul-
dcrs, but al! the more they bought
and read. Critics said they were
| flippant, sarcastic, irreverent, mas
culine and bitter. No one said they
were lackadaisical, weak, Or stupid.
No matter what was said, the pco-
pie bought and read them all the
| more. OF the first volume of "Fcrn
Leaves" 10000 copies were sold in
America. "Little Ferns for Fan
ny's Little Friends" sold $4,000 in
the United States, while $4,000 cop
les were sold in England alone.


Broadway has given two pictures
Of this woman which | shall alwal
tenaerly keep. One is Of the win
ter of ls59-6O. Each bright day
one could see from afar that haugh-
ty head, with its wealth of golden
curls. and that peerless step, which
had in it a fine disdain that | never
saw equalcd in woman. Always
quietly and elegantly dressed, she
was striking by force of her very
presence. With strongly marked
features, a noble figure and elastic
step, which yet carried with it the
proud dignity Of queen, she could
not fail TO attract second glance
en- from an unthinking stranger.
On either side walked fair young
daughter. One, much taller than
her mother, was especially noticea-
Bile for her wide blue eyes and long,
fair curls. Within two or three
years she married and died, leaving
as her dying gift to her mother,
whose heart was broken, little
| girl of her own.


In time Broadway gave another
characteristic of Fanny Fern. In
the bright autumnal afternoon she
walked Broadway with the younger
daughter and the baby. Thus l
saw it one day in its nurses arms.
The crowd wedged us all pat in a
corner. Fanny was talking with
baby. Oblivious of all the world,
she saw her kingdom in its eyes.
Such transtigured face! such baby
talk. The dircst Calvinist could
not despair of the "tinal salvation"
| of Il woman who could look and
talk like that to y baby. 1t was of
this child that she wrote, privately:
"Om little Etfie has never been left
with a servant; and although, to
carry out such Il plan, has involved
sacrifice of much literary labor or
its unsatisfactory completeness, l
am not and never shall be sorry.
she is my poem"


AS writer she never reached
her own highest mark, never wrote
up to the highest level with her
powers. A passion for truth, 4 ha-
tired of shame, a contempt for pre-
tence, slashed with satire, sarcasm,
humor and Wit, all electrified by an
abounding vitality and an exuber-
ant love Of mischief and fun, mark
ed every utterancc which she COM
mi,ted to print. Yet scarcely less
was everything that she wrote VEIN
ed with deep, loving pity for hu-
man nature, a delight in the natural
world, of which she was happy
interpreter. One could not read
the slightest sketch from her hand
without being conscious that it came
from strong and honest heart, and
from a head of unexhausted power.
Yet the conditions under which she
wrote made it impossible that she
should concentrate, elaborate, be
continuously an artist, although ev-
en- as she wrote, in one form of ut
terance she was never approached.
1t was her lot, as it is the lot of so
many brave, bright men and women
of this generation, to serve her day,
to meet the cxigcncies of the hour


to say the word that at present
demanded should be said, without
reference to the future. And she
was true woman enough to recog-
nizc the fact and to modulate her
life upon it, that to be is higher than
to say, even though your word be
said in a form Of the finest art; and
to mold an immortal soul is the di-
vinest work that can come to man