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Show 1 I A GENIAL, I I LOVABLE MAN 8 ( ' - ' o How Frank R. Stockton Is Remembered By $ His Friends. ' 9 . v0 fi.'ink U. Stockton, who died sud- S )pn!y ;Hl 'ashington m the morning i O ; ri -0, is remembered by his I P n'iin' ;1S a must genial, lovable man X I ,,'ml k 1 companion: He must have (I) ? juioivii that his days were numbered, O lnau he spoke of his death only a ) v'wk before he passed away as some- Q thing 10 be asked for soon, says the g yev York Tribune. This was at the w J j-noiii- of the Authors' club in this city. Sfe jl,. tuld a friend and fellow member a. r l Mi'i'V 'hich he intended to make the jouii'lation of a novel. 'I will not Ike si j,j wriif it," he said, "and I want you f) I t" writ- it for me." O V Sii- kton'8 most sti-iking: success was rt i M-hicvcd with the story, "The Lady or (i) I the Tiger." which is the, story of a Q I! j.-mi-barbaric king who lived "in the i0 f very olden lime," who amused himself 0 I by dealing in a picturesque way with I .M-.bjects accused of crime. The ac- f cused man was brought into an arena, ii I where he decided his own fate. The 0 J - story says: JL J I Directly opposite him, on the other y I si.ie of the inclosed space, were two Q I doors exactly alike and side by side. It i I was the duty a ad the privilege of the Q I I 3 1. rso 11 on trial to walk directly to these f I o.i!'E and open ope of them. He could I .!icn either door he pleased; he was ! j mbject to no guidance or influence but T j that of the aforementioned impartial (j I mi 1 incorruptible chance. If he opened the one there came out of it a hungry tiirer. the fiercest and most cruel that (duld be procured, which immediately spran? upon him and tore him to pieces S as a punishment for his guilt. The moment mo-ment that the case of the criminal was . thus decided, doleful iron bells' were ,V ilanped, great wails went up from the liired mourners, etc. But if the accused person opwied the other door there came forth from it' a lady the most suitable to his years and- i k station 'that his majesty could select among his fair subjects, and to this F aiy he was immediately married as a 1 f reward of his innocence. 1c mattered not that he might already possess a 1 I and family, or that his affections j m-.nt be engaged upon an object of his I own selection; the king allowed no such f subordinate arrangements to - interfere with his great scheme of retribution j and reward. The exercises, as in the f other instance, took place immediately, I and in the arena. Another door opened j beneath the king, and a priest, followed j by a band cf choristers and dancing J jnaidens, blow ing horns and treading an I opithalmic measure, advanced to where j the pair stood, side by side, and the f -wedding was promptly and cheerily S , solemnized. This was the king's semi-barbaric method of ministering jf justice. Its perfect fairness is obvious. I The criminal could not know out of I -which door would come the lady: he I opened cither he pleased without hav- n ing the slightest idea whether in the l' next instant he was to be devoured or H married. On some occasions the tiger Eg came out of one door, and on some out 1 of the other. The accused person was I instantly punished if he found himself I guilty, and if innocent he was rewarded I on the spot, whether he liked it or not. I I This semi-harh:irin fcine- Vi.ii? a d.nirh tpr as blooming as his most florid fancies fan-cies and with a soul as fervent and Imperious as his own. As is usual in such oases, she was the apple of his eye, and was loved by him above all humanity. Among his courtiers was a young man of that fineness of blood nd lowness of station common. to the conventional heroes of romance who loved royal maidens. This royal maiden maid-en was well satisfied with her lover, for he was handsome and biave to a " degree unsurpassed in all this kingdom, and she loved him with an ardor that had enough of barbarism in it to make it exceedingly warm and strong. This, love affair moved on happily for many months, until one day the king hap- - P-ned to discover its existence. He did ' not hesitate or waver in regard to his duty in the premises. The youth was immediately cast into prison, and a day was appointed for his trial in the king's arena. .The story goes on to say that the fair daughter learned by the judicial expenditure ex-penditure of gold in which cage the liger would be. and also that a beautiful beau-tiful girl who had looked with loving yes on the unfortunate youth had been selected as "the lady" In the case, and adds: The only hope for the youth in which there was any element of certainty cer-tainty was based upon the success of the princess in discovering this mys- Itery, and the moment he looked upon her he saw she had succeeded, as in his soul he knew she would succeed. Then it was that his quick and anxious glance asked the question, "Which?" It was as plain to her as if he shouted : I. it from where he stood. " Her right arm lay on the cushioned parapet para-pet before her. She raised her hand T - and made a slight, quirk movement to ward the right. He turned, and with a firm and rapid step he walked across ihe empty space. Kvery heart stopped heating, every breath was held, every eye was fixed immovably on the man. Without the slightest hesitation he went to the door on the right and opened it. Vow, the point of the story is this: Did the tiger come out of- the door, or did the lady? How did the prince-.ss decide? To save her lover, so that he might be anoth-jr's anoth-jr's or to have him torn to pieces? The question of her decision is one not to be lightly considered, and it is not for me to presume to set myself 'up as the one person able to answer it. And so I leave it with all of you: Which came out of the door, the lady or the tiger? The little story, while it created much comment, was a stumbling block for Stockton. For a long time his stories were returned to him by publishers pub-lishers who thought that the public would want "something better" from the author of "The Lady or the Tiger." "His Wife's Deceased Sister," anoth er of Stockton's stories, was written w ith a view to telling of the disadvantages disad-vantages under which a man labors who has produced a work of extraordinary extraor-dinary value or one by which he becomes be-comes "popular." "His Wife's Deceased Sister" is the story of a man who had received his manuscript back from the j publisher only because it was not up to the standard which the writer had set for himself in a story which was the result of an inspiration. The young author was finally compelled to write over another name in order to .find a market for his works. The story says: j Time passed on Aery pleasantly; one year, another, and then a little son was born to us. It is often difficult. I believe, for thoughtful persons 'to decide de-cide whether the beginning of their conjugal ' career m- the earliest weeks in the life of their first born be the happiest and proudest period of their existence. For myself I can only say that the same exaltation of mind, the same rarification of idea and invention -j j succeeded upon my wedding day (when the successful story was written) came upon me now. My boy was about six weeks old when the manuscript manu-script was finished, and one evening, j " as we sat before a comfortable fire in our sitting room, and the baby sleeping soundly in the adjoining chamber, I ead the story to my wife, ; When 1 had finished my wife, arose and threw herself into my arms: "I. was never so proud of jou," she said. her glad eyes sparkling, "as I am at this moment. That is a wonderful story; it is, indeed. I am sure it is just as good as "His Wife's Deceased j Sister.' " As she spoke these words a 1 sudden -chilling sensation crept over us both. In the same moment the terrible terri-ble truth had flashed on us both. The story was as good as "His Wife's De-j De-j ceased Sister." I My wife approached me and took my 1 hand in hers, which was as cold as mine. "Be strong and firm," she said; "a great danger threatens us, but you must brace yourself against it. Be strong and firm." I pressed her hand, and we said no more that night. The next day I took the manuscript I had just written and carefully enfolded enfold-ed it in stout wrapping paper. Then I went to a neighboring store and bought a small, tin box, originally intended in-tended for biscuit, with a cover that I fitted tightly. In this I placed my I manuscript, and then I took the box ! to a tinsmith and had the top fastened j on with hard solder. When I went j home I ascended on into the garret and brought down to my study a ship's , cash box, which had once belonged to j one of my family who was a sea captain. cap-tain. This box was very heavy and I firrnlv Iwnirwl u-ltv, twin o - A c! cured by two massive locks. Calling I my wife. I told her of the contents of j the tin can, which I then placed in the box, and, having shut down the heavy lid. I doubly locked it. "This key," I said, putting it in my pocket. "I shall throw into the river when I go out this afternoon." . My wife watched me eagerly with a pallid and firm set countenance, but Upon which I could see the faint glimmer glim-mer of returning happiness. "Wouldn't it be well," said she, "to j secure it still further by sealing wax and pieces of tape?" "N'o." said I, "I do not believe that any one will tamper with our property. And now, my dear," I continued, in an impressive voice, "no one but you, and, in the course of time, our son, shall know that this manuscript exists. When I am dead those who survive me may. if they see fit, cause this box to be split open and the story published. The reputation it may give my name cannot harm me then." There can be no doubt that the title "His Wife's Deceased Sister," was a cloak for "The' Lady and the Tiger," and there are many people who believe that Mr. Stockton may have put away a storj' which he considered equally good and having all the elements of popularity of the little story, and that his death may cause his heirs to "open the box." "Our -Fire Screen." the story of an Eastlake frame, with a hand-made screen to fit it, and how the furniture and finally the whole house was altered to harmonize with it, is one of the best I of Stockton's little stories. When it had all been done, all the changes made, at the sacrifice of money and comfort, the j owner of the screen turned the frame around and said: There was a blank expanse on the back of it. and on this I painted with a brush and some black paint, with which my wife had been . painting storks on some old-fashioned red clay pottery, the following lines from Dante's "Inferno": "In-ferno": "Why. oh.why, haveT taken. And thrown away my comfort on earth And descended into an old-fashioned hell!" But as I do not understand Italian, it is not likely that any of the words I wrote are correct; but it makes no difference, dif-ference, as so few persons understand the language, apd I can always tell them what I meant the inscription to mean. A few days after this I went over to Tom's house. (He had induced the j owner of the screen to make all the changes.) A brighter, cosier home you never saw. I threw myself into one of , my ex-arm chairs. I lay back; I stretched out my legs under the table I could never stretch out my legs under my own tables, because they had heavy Eastlake bars under them and you had to sit up and keep your legs at an Eastlake angle. I drew a. long sigh of satisfaction. Around me were all the pretty, tasteful, unsuitable things that Tom had bought from us at 87 per cent off. Our own old spirit of home comfort seemed to be here. I sprang from my chair. "Tom," I cried, "what will you take for this house, this furniture, everything every-thing just as it. stands?" .Torn named a sum. I closed the bargain. bar-gain. We live in Tom's house now, and two happier people are not easily found. Tom wanted me to sell him mv remod eled house, but I wouldn't do it. He would alter things. I rent it to him, and he has to live there, for he can get no other house in the neighborhood. He is not the cheerful fellow he used to be, but his wife comes over to see us very often. In the series entitled. "Every Man His Own Letter Writer," No. 9 is: From a hog and cattle reporter on a morning paper, who has just had his hair cut by a barber whose father fell off a bridge in the early part of ISliT, to a gardener, who has written to him that a tortoise shell cat, belonging to the widow cf a stage manager, has dug up a bed of calceolarias, the seed of which' had been sent him by the cashier of a monkey-wrench monkey-wrench factory, which had been set on fire by a one-armed tramp whose mother had been a seamtress in the family of a Jlicksite Quaker. Stockton's stories were not all published. pub-lished. George Cary Eggleston says:' We, his intimates, were never quite sure whether he had heard the story or carefully made it v.p for the occasion, or simply improvised it to meet a demand, Once." many years tigo, when the Authors club wys young, we derided to hold that watch nigiit meeting on tile last evening of the vtar which has since become a function imitated by other clubs. We did not then have a programme, as we do now. but left matters at loose ends. tak. j ing the chances as to what we should get in the way of stories and speeches. On the evening which 1 wish to recall Mark Twain was there, and at my solicitation, 1 being chairman at the time, he introduced intro-duced the entertainment with one of his I most humorous stories. Soon afterward, 1 called upon Mr. Stockton for a speech. He arose languidly and ca-me forward with deliberation.' After keeping the audience au-dience watting for more than a minute--as if corralling his intellect he spoke slowly, as follows: "Mr. Chairman, you call upon me for a speech. I have none to give you. Your request reminds me of a recent experience of mine, which may or may not be interesting. inter-esting. ... "I was down in irgima not long ago and was particularly well treated. Those hospitable people not only dined me upon all occasions and many times on.no occasion oc-casion at all, but they invited me. press-ingly. press-ingly. to amtheir social functions particularly par-ticularly the'ir funerals. - ' v "On one occasion 1 went to one of the funerals. When 1 entered the parlor I found a considerable company assembled. assem-bled. Thev sat voiceless along the walls. -Presenllvmore guests came and silently took seats. After awhile still more came, but still no word was spoken by anybody, even in that whisper which is accepted as proper at a funeral. The hour appointed for the services had passed, but still the i company was left sitting there in an eager expectancy. Presently we heard noises above stairs suggestive of the opening and closing of bureau drawers and closet doors and that sort of thing. Half an hour of this disturbance above stairs had passed away when we who' were assembled below heard a gentle and almost deprecative footstep upon the i stairs. There entered the dapper little undertaker. He advanced lo the middle of the room and in a soft, persuasive voice said: " 'Ladies and -gentlemen I am sorry to disappoint so distinguished an audience, but really the funeral cannot come off this afternoon. The corpse has been mislaid.' mis-laid.' " Mr. Stockton never would tell mo whether that story had a foundation of fact to rest upon, or whether he made it out of whole cloth as an apology for not making a demanded speech. Many times I put the question to him, and every time 1 got a new story instead of an answer. One of the stories with which I was thus baffled is perhaps worth recalling. Let me tell it. as nearly as l can, in Mr. Stockton's own words: "Down there in Virginia 1 know an old oarky named lisek. He is a conscientious, conscien-tious, truih telling old man. One day he was summoned tn the court house as u j witness in a case that involved the kill-j kill-j ing of a dog. The formal court process, with, its dire threat of 'punishment in the event of his failure to appear, terribly appalled ap-palled Uncle Ksek, and by way of making sure, he arrived at the court house at 7 o'clock in the morning exactly three hours before the time set for the assembling assem-bling of the court. Summoned to the witness wit-ness chair at last Esek was reassured by the fact that the judge was his Mas' Fernando, with whom he had played marbles, mar-bles, while, the commonwealth attorney was his mas's son, whom he had taught how to ride a horse. Nevertheless Esek was embarrassed in the presence of a court of justice, and reluctant to answer questions lest he commit himself. " 'Lid you know this dog?' asked one of the lawyers. " 'Oh, yes, sir, 1 know'd him well. . In fact, 1 was quite intimate with him.' " 'Was he a good watch dog?' " 'No, sir; he was the cowardllost dog I ever see, sir. He'd run from a shadder." " 'Was he a good hunting dog? a dog for ooons, 'possums, squirrels or birds?' " 'No, sir; he wasn't no 'count at all in dem ways. In fact, he was the most no accountedest dog I ever knowed. He wa'n't worth nothin' nohow.' " 'What was the dog's name?' asked one of the lawyers. ' " 'Now, really, Mas' Sam. you must excuse ex-cuse me from answerin' dat.' " 'Oh, nonsense. What was the dog's name?- " 'Well, you see. Mas' Sam, 1 wouldn't like to say nothin' persqnal, an' so I'd like to bo 'scusod from answering dat question.' "'Answer the question," Esek,' broke in the judge with emphasis. 'What was that' dog's name?' " 'Well, sir, I don't want to say nothin' offensive, sir. after I've done give so poor 1 an account of the dog, but his name was j Lawyer, sir.' " j One thing I ask the privilege of saying, say-ing, namely, that Frank R. Stockton never told in any gathering a story which might not be repented with perfect propriety pro-priety to a company of gentlewomen in al drawing room. His conception of humor did not involve any taint of unclean lines. The proprietor of one of the large New York hotels often tells this story about Stockton: Wc had stopping with us several years ago a family consisting of a mother and several daughters. Thesb went to many entertainments, and in return gave several sev-eral teas in their apartments. To one of these Mr. Stockton was asked, and when his acceptance had been received there was great rejoicing among the young tolks, for only the mother- had met the. author. "This will be a good time to find out," the youngest of the girls said, "if it was the lady or the tiger." The scheme by which the question was to be settled was an ingenious one. Ices were ordered in two forms, one of a lady and the other of a tiger. The guests were served when the time came, each with one of the frozen pieces, but Mr. Stockton received on his plate a "lady" and a "tiger." The time had come when the girls would discover dis-cover the secret, for it had been agreed that the answer to the- question would be the author's selection. If he ato the "lady" it would be in favor of that side of the controversy; if he preferred pre-ferred the "tiger," the "tiger" would have It. It was an anxious moment for the girls and their friends, who had been posted, on the manner in which Mr. Stockton was to be trapped. He looked at the tempting ices a few seconds and then pushed the plate from him, saying, "I will eat no ice today." The girls were dreadfully disappointed because their well laid plans had miscarried, and they and others now tell the story, how they didn't find out if it was the Vlady" or the "tiger." |
