BILL NYE, FUNMAKER, AND ARE TARIFF RATES HIGH ENOUGH?

Bill Nye.

Cortland Evening Standard, Wednesday, March 4, 1896.

BILL NYE, FUNMAKER.

TRIBUTE TO THE HUMORIST BY HIS ART PARTNER.

Exhaustless Fund of Funny Yarns—Never Made an Enemy and Was Not Spoiled by Prosperity—His Trip to England—A National Loss.

   When Nye, ten years ago, began to write the stories that gave him his first national audience, he sent me a sketch of himself up to his middle in snow, with a little shovel in his hand, endeavoring to clean a pathway from his southern home.

   The letter was dated at Asheville, where he had gone, as he said, to ''find climate," and where he subsequently settled. A few weeks later he came to New York and joined The World staff.

   On the day of his arrival I met him, and upon his removing his hat I recalled a funny little story anent a baldheaded Irishman which was then current, and that story made us friends instantly. The short cut to Nye's heart was a funny, a really funny, story, and no man, unless it be Depew, ever had more offered to him.

   No one could be more appreciative of a really new yarn or give it a more hearty welcome and in the retelling of it add more flavor to its spiciness. He had the knack of illustrating his remarks in private conversation by stories that were so appropriate and so varied as to be amazing, and so funny that some of his hearers lost in their appreciation of his humor the application of it to the argument. In this he seemed to me to appear what Lincoln must have seemed to most of the people who surrounded him—a trifler with solemn and revered things.

   Of the many men with whom I have been fairly intimate there is not one who has worn so well, for whom an honest admiration has increased rather than lessened with intimacy.

   The day he came I went with him to the court of general sessions to witness some notable criminal's trial, I forget whose. I made a sketch of Nye there, to which I adhered in all the pictures I have made of him, several thousand in number, devoid of hair, spare and angular in appearance, although in late years he grew stout and quite portly.

   Yet so like his general appearance was this caricature, to which only Mrs. Nye in her love and admiration objected, that often I have been tickled to see people point Bill out on the elevated and eagerly nudge their neighbors as they whispered, "That's Bill Nye."

   I think he never made an enemy. Although he had opinions on every subject they were all his own, yet his remarks, spoken or written, never left a sting.

   Of all the men widely known to the general public—and he was among the very first—I doubt if there is one who allowed himself fewer real intimates. Everybody took him as he was—free, unreserved and unaffected. Many called him Bill almost on sight, yet there was a certain dignity about him after all that kept the choice heart inside for but a few. I think even the people who presumed upon his affable nature realized how little they knew of him.

   He was bored to death constantly by well meant but annoying attentions all over the country and compelled to dine with flattering strangers and meet uninteresting but obtrusive people until be grew to have a sort of outer shell to all but his close friends.

   Yet at home at the head of his own table, alone with his family, what a fountain of good humor and wit and gentle badinage he was!

   To see him unbend and dance the Virginia reel with a dozen youngsters, with a wealth of gesture, comic genuflection and capering, would have amazed those who have seen him only upon the lecture platform. The children would simply forget to dance and stand there roaring at him as he solemnly went through his capers with a face as grave and set as a judge on the bench.

   I have been on many trips with him, and the regret of my life is that I did not go to the Paris exposition in his company. We once spent a week with the Shinnecock Indians, whose sense of humor, he said, had been removed by a surgical operation. At the end of the week we spent a night at a Southampton farmhouse, into which mirth had not entered for 20 years and where a jest was an utter stranger. An aged couple abode there and gave us a night's lodging.

   After supper we sat in the quaint, stiff parlor, and as the silence and solemn gloom began to enshroud and chill us Nye began to talk and lead the two old people into conversation. It was like trying to melt an iceberg with a candle. Never a smile thawed those ancient features as bonmots, quips and persiflage flowed. We batted jests from one to the other and grew in deadly earnest in our effort to make those people smile.

   The door opened, and an old sea dog entered, whose round, red face shone like a polished apple. Nye's countenance brightened as the old captain seated himself, and he took a fresh grip.

   The faces of the old people wore a grave look of wonder as they listened, but in a few minutes Bill captured the captain, who lay back and roared aloud. Then the faces of the others cracked and wrinkled into smiles as the mariner testified to the character of Nye's fun, and soon the old, musty, damp homestead re-echoed with long, shrill peals of laughter. It was a veritable triumph, and we sat there, all of us, until 2 in the morning listening to Nye's stories and enjoying the pleasure and excitement of those two old fossils.

   In the morning the old woman told Bill that he had made her happier than she had been for years, and that the house seemed brighter, as if, in her own words, "somebody had been and brushed a lot o' cobwebs out of it."

   He was one of those men whom prosperity does not make ashamed of former poverty or warp into affected mannerisms. He would have chatted with an emperor with the same freedom and dignity that characterized his conversation with a farmhand, yet he had earned with his own brain a fortune that would have made most men haughty and pompous. He had nothing of that theatrical self-assertiveness that marks so many famous men. He never posed or tried to attract attention at any time, although he enjoyed, as all men must do, the large need of fame and applause that came to him.

   I have made fun of him in the most ridiculous ways I could devise in my pictures, yet with a loving and admiring hand that lingered always over his gentle, strong face, whose every line I know by heart.

   He once told an audience to which I introduced him in Newark that I deprived his portrait of hair in order to avoid work, and on another occasion he powdered his hair and the top of his head, thus creating a most vivid resemblance to the caricature, and when he appeared before the audience there was a thrill of recognition that was delightful to my own vanity. I drew this comic portrait on an envelope, wrote "New York" under it, nothing more, and so well was his face known that he received the letter the next morning, much to his own astonishment.

   In England he was a source of much wonder and speculation. His jokes were taken with the usual British amazement and speculation, then carefully pondered over, digested and finally comprehended, but he never wearied of narrating how some of his remarks were taken seriously. At the Wild West banquet somebody referred to "flowing hair," which is one of the Wild West "props." Nye remarked that he once had flowing hair, but his "had long since fled." This little jest was pondered over for many moons by the Englishmen present who endeavored to find a concealed meaning to it.

   Nye was vastly diverted also by the fact that the English papers criticized his comic history of the United States seriously. His very best jests were often spoken ones, and while it is impossible to recall them at will they will be handed down to posterity accredited to every other funny man perhaps, but from now on they will be remembered and treasured.

   He had a quaint, dry way of speaking. His mouth took on a funny little twist that was comical in itself, and he had a sort of Yankee drawl that grew on him of late years until it was also a distinguishing trait.

   In attire he was never careless, but rather more particular than are literary men, yet he was not showy or vulgar, and he wore a dress suit as if born in one.

   I think his pet story was the one as to how he was charged $4 for a sandwich in a village in New Jersey. He told the man who sold it that it was a very high price for a sandwich and said that he had frequently got a ten course dinner, with four kinds of wine, for just making a speech, and finally asked the man why he charged $4 for a common ham sandwich.

   "Well, I'll tell ye," said the sandwich man. "The fact is, by gad, I need the money!"

   Of late a most cruel story was widely and with an envenomed jealousy circulated about Nye. It was stated that he had appeared before an audience in an intoxicated condition. Next evening he stumbled upon ascending the steps of a pulpit in a Paterson church, and the story was then and there assumed to be a fact. He was assaulted after his lecture by a mob of Paterson young men at the station.

   I have known him intimately for ten years under varying circumstances; known also that his health was always delicate; that he was obliged to be very careful, and I was amazed at this story more than I can tell. I never knew him to drink more than an occasional glass and never saw him, nor do I believe that he was ever, under the influence of liquor. I am convinced that the whole story was a baseless fabrication.

   To us who knew him and loved him Bill Nye is dead. The tears that have

fallen on these pages are for my own personal loss, but to you who knew him in his writings he is still alive, and when years hence Americans look back upon his work, as he did lovingly upon that of John Phoenix—when his books are classic monuments of American humor, as truly they will be—he will still live, beloved and remembered, for he who makes us laugh is greater than he who makes us weep.

   Bill Nye's name will be a household word a century hence, for his wit was gentle, wholesome and American.—Walt McDougall in New York World.

POET RILEY'S TESTIMONIAL.

His Expression of Grief as the Death of Mr. Nye.

   James Whitcomb Riley, when informed of Mr. Nye's death, said:

   "Especially favored, as for years I have been, with close personal acquaintance and association with Mr. Nye, his going fills me with grief. He was unselfish, wholly so, and I am heartened by recalling the always patient strength and gentleness of this true man, the unfailing hope and cheer and faith of his child heart, his noble and heroic life and pure devotion to his home, its sanctity of love for mother, brothers, wife, children, friends; his deep affections, constant dreams, plans and realizations—all in happiest action and development. So I cannot doubt that somehow, somewhere, he continues cheerily on in the unbroken exercise of these same capacities, as marked an endowment of his spirit nature as was his peculiar gift of genius."

   Mr. Riley wrote the following poem:

TO EDGAR WILSON NYE.

O "William"—in thy blithe companionship,

What liberty is mine—what sweet release

From clamorous strife, and yet what boisterous peace!

Ho! ho! it is thy fancy's finger tip

That dints the dimple now and kinks the lip

That scarce may sing, in all this glad increase

Of merriment! So, pray thee, do not cease

To cheer me thus—for, underneath the quip

Of thy droll sorcery, the wrangling fret

Of all distress is still—no syllable

Of sorrow vexeth me—no teardrops wet

My teeming lids, save those that leap to tell

Thee thou'rt a guest that overweepeth yet

Only because thou joketh overwell.

Ithaca Went Republican.

   ITHACA, March 4.—At yesterday's election the Republicans carried the city by about 150 majority, Three supervisors and three aldermen were elected by the Republicans. The Democrats elect a justice of the peace, one supervisor and one alderman.

George W. Melville.

A FAMOUS ENGINEER.

Commodore Melville Designs the Machinery For New Ships of the Navy.

   In one respect our new navy is something to be proud of. We haven't got the biggest ships nor perhaps the strongest, but we have got the fastest fighting machines afloat. Much of the credit for this is due to George W. Melville, who has just been reappointed for the fourth time as engineer-in-chief of the navy, with the relative rank of commodore. The reappointment comes as a grateful acknowledgment of his remarkable ability and the marked success which he has achieved.

   Mr. Melville was born in New York city about 55 years ago. His name will always be famous for his connection with the Hall relief expedition and the heroic work done by him in his search for De Long and his men when, baffled by the arctic ice, they retreated across the frozen plains of northern Siberia. He was the chief engineer of the ill-fated Jeannette when she was crushed in the ice, and it is a matter of history how he braved death a hundred times in his efforts to bring relief to his captain and suffering comrades. Melville was one of the 18 who escaped out of the ship's company of 33.

   It is not for his heroic qualities, however, that Commodore Melville retained his important position, but on account of his practical worth. The work of his bureau relates to the designing of machinery for all new naval ships, keeping the engines in repair and maintaining them in a proper state of efficiency. When congress orders a new ship built, it designates the speed and displacement. Then the chief engineer and his assistants figure out all the details of her machinery. He determines the amount of horsepower which the engines will require to make that speed possible. If a ship's engines break down, he is held responsible. It is because of his ability that we have had much less trouble with our ships in this respect than has England, and there is no doubt that if Commodore Melville should ever go looking for a job he would soon find one, with a big salary attached, on the other side of the water.

ARE TARIFF RATES HIGH ENOUGH?

Cheap Oriental Labor May Compel Highest Possible Protection.

   Those who have expressed the opinion that the McKinley tariff rates of duties were too high, and would never be restored, are evidently not alive to the economic and industrial developments that are now occurring in different parts of the world, most particularly in Asia. Instead of their being too high, we believe that, within very few years, it will be found that the McKinley tariff rates are far too low to afford protection to American labor and to American industries in such times as may be brought into direct competition with the products of the labor of India, China or Japan.

   The United States will not stand alone in this respect. Goods made by oriental labor will find their way into every market in Europe and Australia. They will supplant the European and our own goods in South American markets. The great hive of European industry will be removed to Asia unless some effective international combination may be brought about that can check the movement that has already originated in the orient. Instead of any tendency to lower tariffs here or in Europe we see before us indications of the necessity for distinctly higher tariffs, in some respects, than have ever yet been enacted in this or any other country of the civilized world.

   The general tendency of the masses of our people is not to diligent forethought. There are some among us, however, who recognize the impending industrial revolution and are preparing for it by the establishment of factories in the orient. While the capital there invested will be American capital, it will be subject to the laws of other countries and will be utilized in furnishing employment for the cheapest kind of foreign labor, not American labor. The product of such factories must be kept out of the United States unless upon payment of such a tariff as will make its cost equal to that of the American product made at home by American labor.

Everlastingly saying, with never a pause, Do they think they can pull off a scrap with their jaws?

[CORTLAND] BREVITIES.

   — Mr. H. C. Fairbank has moved his residence from 10 Monroe Heights to 38 North Church-st.

   —The Y. M. C. A. penmanship class meets to-night at 8 o'clock. Every member of the class is requested to be present.

   —The case of Johnson against Seebeck which was to have been called before Justice Dowd this morning was settled out of court.

   —The ladies of the Baptist church of Pitcher, N. Y., will give a missionary concert on Sunday evening, March 8.  All are invited to attend.

   —Mr. Fred F. Hamilton of Eaton, Madison Co., and Miss Mina E. Rogers were married at the home of the bride, 54 Hubbard-st., today by Rev. J. L.

Robertson.

   —The case of T. L. Corwin vs. Isaac Edgcomb, as executor, and Thankful A. Price, as executrix of the estate of Roswell M. Price, which was on trial yesterday, is still on trial.

ANOTHER LIE NAILED.

H. F. Benton Not Working Against His Own Candidacy.

   A report has gained considerable circulation upon the streets that Mr. Henry F. Benton, the candidate for village president upon both the Republican and the Citizens' tickets, was saying to his friends that he did not desire the office of president and that they would all be conferring a personal favor upon him if they would vote for his opponent. That seemed a very unreasonable and unlikely thing for a man to be doing who had accepted a nomination and hardly anyone believed it, but still it was said to be having an effect in some quarters.

   Accordingly a STANDARD reporter called upon Mr. Benton at his office this morning and inquired about it. Mr. Benton was sitting behind his desk and was hard at work when the reporter entered and began to state the report. As soon as he grasped the bearing of the question he sprang to his feet and not waiting for the reporter to complete his sentence, said with pronounced emphasis, "You may say that it is a lie. I have heard that report myself, and there is not a word of truth in it. I did not desire the nomination, I did not want the office before the nomination was made, but I am not the man to put my hand to the plow and look backward. A self-constituted committee came to see me after the Citizens' convention had been held and the nominations had been made and tried to sound me on the idea of my withdrawing. They intimated that it would not be well for both Dr. Higgins and myself to be in the field, and that perhaps I could simplify matters by withdrawing. I said to them that I had not desired the office, but had finally concluded to accept it. I was first in the field, all other nominations having been made after mine, and I saw no reason why I should be the one to withdraw. I see no reason now why I should withdraw, or why I should urge the candidacy of another or divert votes from myself and I have not done it nor do I purpose to do it. I am in the field to stay until the votes are counted, and I am not asking any one to vote against me.

   Mr. Benton was as thoroughly aroused over this report as The STANDARD man ever saw him over anything. His reply pretty thoroughly settles the question of its truth or falsity.