THE "BOWERY KIPLING."

Dominion, Volume 4, Issue 1097, 8 April 1911, Page 9

THE "BOWERY KIPLING."

There are all sorts of men and women" among authors. One of a very unusual: sort was the novelist whoso life-story-we ..have taken from the NewYork "Evening Post." Owen .Kildare, who wrote "My Mamie Rose," and who',was sometimes called "Bowery. Kipling," died on Saturday night at the Manhattan State Hospital. Beyond question,, lie was one. of the most remarkable of all the remarkablo men who have come out of the tenements. "My Mamie Rose," the work which made his reputation, was an autobiography of his rise from illiteracy to the position of a man who earned his living by writing, and it may truly he said that the wildest flights ot imagination could not have framed a more original story. At thirty, Kildaro could not read or write. He was a prizefighter, bar-tender, and "bouncer" by profession. His only friends were the men and women,of the Bowery. Then, by a romantic meeting with a young school teacher, whom lie saved from the insults of a of liis own friends, the course of his fife was entirely changed, Before that, the most worthy work h6 had "ever doilo was as a captain of marines ;in the. Brazilian revolution. The best that could be said for him was that. he.was a good "bruiser."

Of course, be was not to blame for his early life. .He was born in 1864 on the top floor of a tenement in Catharine Street. His father was Irish and his.mother ivas French. She' died when he was born; his father had been dead three months. What would have become of the child is not pleasant to contemplate had it not been for ■ a kind-hearted Irish couplo on the floor below.- He was a good maii, that Irishman; even though, as Kiklare afterwards wrote, he "too often perriiitted his good heart to be poisoned by tho poison of tho bottle." When Kildare w?s' seven years old he received his first ;pair of shoes,, and on that sanio December night, when snow covered Catharine .Street and the Bowery, his drunken foster father took the shoes from his feet, and kicked him. out into the street. Near midnight ho crept back to the door and felt about in the darkness, because lie knew the love of Mary M'Nulty, who, when his own mother was dying, had refused to "allow him to.be taken to,an "institution." The shoes wero there, although it had cost her a beating to mover them for him. , , An hour later hn was; in Park Row warming himself in the steam which came up■ through the sidewalk gratings from the press rooms of the newspaper buildings; While he shivered in tho dim light, a boy, little older than himself, approached. "Goin' to sell poipers?" the boy ask--ed. " Yep," was, the • "Got any money?" "Nope." "Here's five cints to stake ye. Ye're in our gang." It was his first capital as a newsboy, and his new-found friend was "Little "Tim"-Sullivan. In seven years, Owen Kiklare was the champion of the Park Row "newsies,", and' was rapidly developing into a pugilist of merit. He had alrea'/V attracted • favourable attention among divers sporting cliques of tho East Side, and- was able now and then to pick up. a dollar or so by an exhibition of his skill. 'J'wo years morn added weight to his body and gave bis figure time to' knit, and he graduated from the ranks of the "newsies" to become a full-fledged prize-fighter. Once he even went to Pittsburg, where lie drovo the/local champion to the ropes. Naturally; too, his added .reputation made the earning of a livelihood a comparatively easy undertaking, for asido from hisf ring-side receipts, be was in demand as a bartender in numerous resorts..

Ono of the first places" he worked in was "Steve" Brodic s dive, oil the Bowery, and after that he became "bouncer" in the danco hall kept by "Fatty" Flynn, an ex-convict, at No. 3-1 Bond •Street. In those days one of Kildaro's best friends was. a youth known as "Skinny" M'Carthy, who was not hotter and no worso than himself, savo that "Skinny" lacked tho physical efficiency of Kildare, and therefore found it necessary occasionally to purloin a living. However, there was this mitigating circumstance, that "Skinny" was a hero-worshipper, whoso hero was Ivildare. Nothing more delighted him than to stand beside the fighter and buy him drinks. They passed a good part of their time loafing just outside tho saloons, and tho principal diversion they had at such times was insulting any woman who happened to piss by. Olio day when Kildare and "Skinny" and a few moro of their kind were standing in front- of one of their favourite haunts, ICildare idlv listening to tho remarks of his companions, he suddenly heard a woman say: "And you are men!" He looked around, and saw a slender girl with a .look of contempt on Tier face, staring back at ''Skinny" M'Carthy's flushed face. Why he did it, he did not know, but before "Skinny" liatl a chance to give voice to tho words on his lips, Kildaro knocked him down. Then, with a sweep of his arm, ho clearoil a space around the girl, and stepped to her side.

"I'd better walk with you a littlo way," he said gruffly. He walked with her to her door, and on tho way she drew from him his name and an account of his life. Her name, she said, was Marie Rose Deering, and sho was a school-teacher. She talked to him libout leading a different sort of life, and while lie scouted her suggestions, after'lie bad left her, he found to his amazement that'lio could not forget them. Without her knowing it, he would follow her about tho East Side to seo that she did not come to harm. Ho Jiad neyer, felt a sense of responsibility or respect for a woman before. Ho could not understand it himself. But finally one clay he plucked up courage to station himself in her path when sho was oil her way home from her school. To his vast astonishment sho stopped and said: "How do you do, Mr. Kildare?" From that day he was her slave. Ho was willing to do anything she asked of hini. And when one night shu invited him to a' church entertainment, and gavo liim a card i'or it, he consented to go. "Where is it ?'\he asked. "I don't remember," she replied,' "but the. card shows." Instantly her face was crimson. Whether ho liokl tho card upside down, or just what happened, he never knew, but she had seen that, big man that he was, ho was unable to read a line. ; The'next day he began to study under her direction, starting, like a child, with the alphabet. He recited his lessons as he walked with her from tho school in the afternoon, and in the evenings, at her home, sho gave liim other lessons to study during tho following morning. Sometimes they went to public lectures, in the schools or at Cooper Union. On Sundays, when the weather was fine, they went on long outings , into tho country or to the seashore. Kildare gave up his prize-fight-ing, and his job at "Fatty" Flynn's dance hall, and' became J a baggage agent, earning eight dollars. a week. By working day and night lie managed to obtain niauv increases, in pav,. until by 1900-he was earning what lie considered sufficient to justify his asking his "Mamie Rose" to marry him. The wedding was all arranged, the day was set,--but-when-it-was one week off Miss Deering died. . Kildare -never fully recovered .fromJjhe shpijk.'of 'that tragedy. 'Ho Had •fercrjhat, nearly him'a differe'nt; maii,, mentally. Taken

iii-,conjunction'.with tlie change in his I mode of life, it'iinduebd ili' him an -ex- i tremely nervous temperament,\ - which, ; later in life, developed a tendency toward lunacy. He was sick for weeks, i and when he was able to be up again, it did not seem 'worth while to continue : tho fight that he had begun for liis "Mamie, Rose." He partially drifted back to-the old life, and met: again tho wrecks who hang about saloon doors : and sit on the'benches in Union Square. In 1901, however,' his restless spirit - made itself felt, and he went down to Venezuela with a.Foreign Legion that • fought on the side of tho revolutionists who tried to oust' President Castro. This venture must have had a good deal to do with his regeneration, for when he came back, although lie was practically penniless, there was some hope in him. Ho saw the printed newspaper oiler of a prize for a love story, and determined to write the story of his own life. He obtained a bundle of yellow wrap-' ping paper, and wrote out "My Mamie Rose" with a stub of pencil. Two days later lie saw liis liamo in print for the first time. In the preparation of his story he had met a Miss Leita Russell Bogartus, who was a newspaper writer herself. In a short time they were married, anil Kildaro continued to write. His fiction was in general demand, among the magazines. He even became an associate editor of "Pearson's." "My Mamie Rose" was followed by, three other books, ''The Good of . the Wicked," "The Wisdom of the Simple," and "My Old Bailiwick.". . He was jn demand as a lecturer 1 , and had a 1 pa'ragraph in "Who's .Who." ' He "was head of the Kildare Publishing Company, a trusteo of the National Newsboys' Association, a director of-the Social Betterment Movement, and a member of tho Reformed Church. . Then trouble came afresh. Arnold Daly was looking for a play in 1008, and ho got the idea that a dramatisation of "My Mamie Rose" would take with the public. So Kildare received rush orders to prepare a stage version. It was offered' early in the season at Wallack's Theatre, under the title of "Tho Regeneration," and it was a failure. Kildare had written it in nineteen days, and lie had worked desperately on. it . after the . manuscript was finished; He suffered a. second nervous breakdown such as had visited him. when Miss Deering died. Financial troubles followed, and a fall in the subway completely wrecked him. ■ His wife, who had stood by him sturdily, hitherto, found it necessary to applv to have him sent to Bloomingdale. I'Vom that place ho was removed to the Manhattan State Hospital, on Ward's Island. He never quite recovered, although ho was able to take an interest in all around him, and was a cheerful patient, the doctors said. Late last year his wife went to tho . town in Massachusetts where they had been married, and obtained an annulment, retaining the custody of their five-year-old daughter. She immediately married a retired lieutenant-com-mander of the United States navy, but at the , same time she made it clear that her interest .in her first husband had not been abandoned. She fre- ; quently visited him at Ward's Island, sometimes taking their daughter to see , him, and she had given orders that she ' was to be called whenever his condition ; became serious. Both slio and her lius- ' band made it their duty to see that ( Kildare lacked for nothing. She last visited him the day bcfore.he died. '