Life — August 14, 1902 — page 12: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Caine the Uncanny. Ob! May I reach some haven, Some happy shining coast, Where John Storm raves no longer, And Glory Quayle’s on toast r[. HERE was the sound of the sea sobbing on the beach; there was a dim twilight, and there was Mr. Hall Caine, himself. Suddenly he took from his desk a photograph which he graciously extended to me, saying: “This is the very latest.” he Manx cat arose from the rug and glared fiercely at me. Did the cat take fits? Was there a dungeon be- neath the library into which those who did not love the brand of Caine would be lowered, to find death beneath a pile of manuscript? Cousin Mary was right in declaring that it a most unhealthy pastime to go lion-hunting in darkest England. I felt constrained to ask the gentleman when his next work would be published. “That I can hardly tell. I do not intend to fall below the level of ‘The Eternal City. “I should hope not.” “Iam told that the book has delighted His Holiness. He has read it twice.” yes. The papers said yesterday that he is very weak, indeed—barely alive." I shivered at my mal-a- propriety, but Mr. Caine continued, with a far-away look in his right eye: “It must be a great consolation to him to know that the master-mind of England has chosen Rome as the scene of one of the best-selling novels of the year.” “Of course, Rome has appeared in literature before”— “But not with my peculiar treatment.” “Oh, no! There is no other writer who would—that is, could—do it. + You are somewhat of an authority on socialism, are you not, Mr. Caine?” “It was my favorite recreation during a week I spent in Chicago some years ago. Bombs and things of that kind are so convenient, when one is preparing to send the hero from a world that is not worthy of him. I really don't know what I should have done with John Storm if I hadn't been in a position to deal him a vio- lent death.” “The very best thing you could have done with him. He was married in large capitals at the end of the book, wasn't he?” “Well, he had to go out with a bang, you know, When one feels intensely all the misery, the hopelessness of this depraved world, and endeavors to wind up the affairs of a crazy philanthropist and a music hall lady, at the same time, it is sure to tell on the nervous system.” “A cup of bovril is an excellent thing.” “or purely material natures, perhaps. But I find that the only thing that soothes me, when I think of the dreadful inequality between the rich and the poor, is a cheque for twenty thousand pounds. After that, I am “fatter myself that know how to advertise.” able to get a little sleep, and then I brace myself for another socialist hero.” “You seem rather fond of introducing prominent politicians. “Yes, I work on the principle—when in doubt, play a prime minister. It gives a certain flavor to the thing.” “But it must worry the prime minister.” “Men who hold such offices must expect to be used as a warning.” “Miss Quayle was a sprightly person.” “Ah! Glory had, indeed, a vivid exaltation that sprang from—that sprang from”— “Exactly. I think she was just too charming. Of course, it was a little strange to have a cast in one of her eyes, and to put her feet in constant motion. Her letters were most original.” “Yes. I had a little help with them from my friend Henley, who is superintendent of a lunatic asylum. One of the women in his charge died and left a packet of letters that she had written in her most lurid moments. They were the very thing, and I added a little of my own work as a finishing touch.” “This is a rather startling lady whom you've intro- duced in ‘The Eternal City,’ isn't she?” “Oh, I could have made her even more exciting. There is always the British matron to be considered.” “Yes, she occupies a large place in the public eye, and comicbooks.com fh onan ESRI ES ret fe PENA AN AS NL en ROE NAIR CEN IT. RO 9 ncRNA MR vo NG