Hurrah! Hurrah! Yours of Feb. 1st arrived today, having left Eugene on the 3rd. It made all the difference with this poor old man, I can tell you! I was afraid you were sick, and I'm so sorry you've been troubled with that old asthma and a sore throat. But evidently the "red medicine" has been effective, and so I shout Hurrah for red medicine!
I'll answer several of your questions first, by way of being sure I've done so. Mrs. Jett is one of my students, the wife of a wheel in the Columbia Tribune. She took all three of my courses and was a hard worker. She is a pianist, composes some charming little songs, and has often accompanied Hilda's singing in public. I know her only as a student, an enthusiastic one. You may have seen her. She is a very corpulent person
John Collier was not notified. They didn't think of him, I suppose. The present Commissioner
of Indian Affairs, Emmonds, did respond respond. I sent you his long telegram. It's a pity Collier did not know. He would have gone off the deep end, I fancy. And I do honor him. (By the way, did you see my article about him?
(Our big barn cat is insisting on interfering with my writing. She grabs my hand, lies down on my
paper, purrs like a saw-mill & is too sweet to be thrown out in the snow. Yo-Yo does does not like the goings on, and and is arfing angrily!) Now maybe I can continue. The kitten is lying still & and licking my left hand, leaving me the right one. O these precious animals — dogs, cats, horses!! Sweet things! I do love them and they love me back.
Where do they get this love? Not from
the food they eat certainly!
About William Hodge, the actor. He was the big Broadway star at the time when "Mr. Waters" appeared in Smart Set. He was under the management of Liebler & Co., and his big hit was Booth Tarkington's "The Man From Home". Liebler wired me to meet him at the Auditorium Hotel in Chicago. I did, and Hodge, Liebler & I had dinner together. We were going to dramatize "Mr. Waters" & Hodge was to have the title role. Then there was an epidemic of failures on Broadway, & "Mr. Waters" fell by the way, & even "The Man from Home" stopped. It had had a tremendous run.
(What would have been the result
if we had put on Mr. Waters on
Broadway with Hodge the famous Wm. Hodge as the lead man? Would I even have done the Cycle? I doubt it. In fact, I know I would never even have conceived the
Cycle. Here is another point that you can use. In 1901-1902 or near that time (probably 1902) the magazine called Truth published a poem
by me entitled To a Hatpin! My god! Actually, that was the title! What's more, Truth was one of the classiest of "slick" magazines and the poem was about a pretty girl called Edith Perdee. I used to skate skate skate with her (10-20-30 below zero!) & she had long golden hair! It I used to see her drying it in the sun. She
lived across the street. I have not seen that poem for nearly 60 years. Could you find it somehow? Years afterward when I was lecturing, I met the girl. She was married & had children, She, her husband & I talked of old times, & she & I laughed (with a feel of unshed tears) about the time when I dreamed
of her and she of me, and nothing was said about it. (Funny and a little heart-achy too!) That girl's hair (golden) hung down below her hips, I tell you, Lucile! I used to quote: "All fair, all fair, let down your long gold hair!" (this to myself!)
You ask about Bronson Howard. He was the author of the overwhelmingly popular drama, The Old Homestead, which flourished for at least a generation, and was still going when I was
a youngster. I understand that no other drama ever ran so long — not even Uncle Tom. Well, the evening I spent at the Author's Club with old Henry Holt (the Zeus of the publishing world) I met Howard, then very old and a bit doddering. We liked each other, & when he when he said he must go home, I went with him
to the streetcar (This was in 1907). There was a heavy, wet snowstorm in progress, and we trudged through snow halfway to our knees. I put him on the street car, & never saw him again. He died that winter.
I am glad and surprised that Sandy actually sent you the tape of my Lyrics program. I do hope he will have the records soon. I'm to tal read lyrics at Christian College again next Monday.
We could sell some records if we had them.
The other day a big, masculine fellow who was in my Epic America class came to me in the hall & said: "What the class did at the end of the semester certainly got to me." His eyes went wet as he said this. I knew what he meant. He was referring to the applause of the class when I said goodbye.
Have I told you of James Whittaker of Andrew Melrose Ltd., of London? He handled "When the Tree etc" ("Eagle Voice") and we became friends. He died about two years ago. There are a good many of his letters here, and you must have them. Fine letters, and full of affection! Whittaker's wife was an Icelandic girl by the name of Monda. She went back to her girlhood home in Reykjavik, Iceland. I had given Whittaker a nicely carved Sioux war club, and she gave it to the British Museum when she left London. My letters to Whittaker (20 or more) should be of some value to you, and Monda should know about them. Perhaps she has them, or Melrose may know. She, however, is the better bet. She could be reached through this address: Mrs James (Monda) Whittaker, c/o Andrew Melrose Ltd., 178 Great Portland St., London, W. 1, Eng.
How I do wish I could hear one of your programs! I know they are beautifully done. You not only know how, but you
give yourself up to the reading and you believe profoundly in what you are doing. Where So "The Other" takes over, and the audience seems to be "mesmerized."
I'm no end grateful for you and your great gift to the Pattern. A man does not "deserve" the best that happens to him. He can only accept with humility, and give thanks.
John
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