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 Copyright 1913 
 
 UNCLE REMUS MEMORIAL 
 
 ASSOCIATION 
 
 Appeal Publishing Company 
 Atlanta. Ga. 
 
 Sold for the lifiicfK 
 JofI Cliundlt'r Harris .\/t;)iiori(il 
 
 ©ci.A:}5n90« 
 
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 "?inclc mcmusi" 
 
 
 J OKI. (HANDLER HARRIS was 
 1)1)1-11 Decembtr 9, 1818, in the 
 c|ui(t lit; If village of Eatonton, Putnam 
 County.. (ia. His father died in his in- 
 f'anev. His mother was young and very 
 poor. She did tlu' best she could for 
 her little hoy. raising him carefully, and 
 sending him to the Eatonton day school. 
 That was before the public school era. 
 and schools were pay institutions. 
 
 Joe was a red-haired, freckle-faced 
 little boy, sturdy, active, fond of play, 
 hut marked by that shyness and reserve 
 which he carried through life. "He 
 was probably the least noticed boy in 
 the neighborhood," relates a friend who 
 ./()(/ cliaiiillrr Ihiiri.s knew. "He was such a clever little fel- 
 
 At the Aye of S'lxli'en. low!" reports another who chose liim for 
 
 playmate. He develo))ed early liking 
 for literature, listening intently to the "Vicar of Wakefield." which 
 his mother read to him when he was six. That hook inspired him 
 with a desire to write. 
 
 He was fond of animals. "His mother told me,' relates his 
 wife, "how he befriended stray cats and dogs. He kept that up. 
 I have been often perplexed to know what to do with our excess of 
 kittens. He was always finding another jnippy and bringing it 
 home. Our children were allowed to keep any pets they pleased. 
 They had .-i pony, donkey, chickens, pigeons, rabbits, cows, calves — 
 almost everything! His mother said .Joel alwaj-s had a wonderful 
 way witii horses. Old Uncle Bob Capers, the negro stage-coach 
 driver at Eatonton. used to let Joel sit on the box with him. Once, 
 she saw Joel sitting alone on top the stage, driving the horses him- 
 self — such a little fellow! and she was nearly frightened to death!" 
 The Civil War eaiiie, making times harder for every one and no 
 easier for this struggling mother and her child. Of the period 
 when he became fourteen, he once gave this account in casual talk: 
 "There came a time when I had to be up and doing. I was in 
 the postoffice. reading the newspapers when the first number of the 
 Countrvniaii was laid on the counter. I saw in it this advertise- 
 
iiKiit: 'All ac'ti\f, iiitfllifj,tiit lioy. 1 l- or 1.5 Vfars of age, is wanted 
 at this office to Itani tin- ])rintiii^ l)UsiiiL-ss. March Itli, 18(i2.' 
 
 "This was my opportunity and I seized it with both hands. I 
 wrote to tlie editor, whom I knew, and the next time he came to 
 town, lie sought me out, asked if I liad written the letter witli my 
 own liands, and in three words, the bargain was concluded. 
 
 "The Countryinan w.is imblished nine miles from any post office, 
 on tile ])]antation of Mr. .loseph A. Turner. On the roof of the 
 printing office, squirrels scampered and blue jays chattered. I used 
 to sit in the dusk and see the shadows of all the great problems of 
 life flitting about, restless and uneasy, and I had time to think about 
 them. What some people call loneliness was to me a great bless- 
 ing; and the printer's trade, so far as I learned it, was in the nature 
 of a liberal education. Mr. Turner had a large private library, 
 especially rich in English literature, in translations from the Greek 
 and Tatin, and works on ornithology. It would have been remark- 
 able if, with notliiug to do but set a column or so of type daily, 
 I had failed to take advantage of this library. Mr. Turner took 
 an abiding interest in my welfare, directed my reading, gave mc 
 good advice, and the benefit of his wisdom and experience at every 
 turn, P"or the rest, I got along as any boy would, I was fond of 
 setting tyjie. and when my task was done I used to go to the negro 
 cabins and hear their songs and stories." 
 
 One of these cabins was that of "Old Uncle George Terrell." 
 who made ginger-cakes and ])ersimuioii beer, and told <|uaint 
 stories to little .loe and the Turner children clustered around his 
 cabin fire. "Uncle Remus" of Mr. Harris's books and world- 
 wide fame is a compo.site of "Uncle George Terrell, " "Uncle Bob 
 Capers," .nul other kindly black "uncles." 
 
 If the master of Turn wold had a wonderful library and the little 
 boy was welcome there, the mistress liad a wonderful garden where 
 he was welcome, too. In it was a plot where only wild flowers 
 grew, and Mrs, Turner knew as much about wild flowers as her 
 husband knew .about birds. The Countryman was a scholarly little 
 sheet, resembling Addison's ".Spectator," Goldsmith's "Bee," and 
 ,Iohnson's "Rambler." .Mr. Turner welcomed contributions in 
 prose and verse from bis young printer, and jiredieted a bright 
 future for him. At the close of the war the ]iaper 
 ceased ])nblie.ition. 
 
 Harris, adrift at tile .age of sixteen, found work 
 successively at Macon, Cia,. as typesetter .ind writer 
 on the Telegraiih; New Orleans. La., as editor's as- 
 sistant on the Crescent; Forsyth. Ga.. as typesetter. 
 writer, editor, and wra))])er-up and mailer of the 
 Advertiser, owned bv Mr. .lanies Harrison; at Savan- 
 
iiali, associate editor on the News with W. T. Thompson, author of 
 "Major Jones's Courtship." At Forsyth lie was a member of the 
 Harrison home eircle; Mrs. Starke, Mr. Harrison's sister, exhibited a 
 kindly interest in him. He left Savannah for Atlanta in" 1876 
 with his wife and 
 two children. 
 
 He had married 
 E s s i e L a R o s e. a 
 young lady of French 
 ancestry and Cana- 
 dian birth, a sea- 
 captain's daughter, in 
 .Savannah, April 21. 
 1873. Of her sur- 
 name he was fond of 
 saying: '" 'Twas a 
 pity to change it — 
 hut I just had to!" 
 and p r o v i n g bv 
 Shakespeare that :i 
 rose by another name 
 were just as sweet! 
 It is said of him that 
 lie never liked to be 
 out of sound of his 
 wife's voice. Her 
 congenial and sym- 
 pathetic companion-, 
 ship and his ap- 
 preciation of it con- 
 tributed nnich to liis 
 
 success. "Evening Tales." a translation _of Ortoli\ folklore tales, 
 was their joint production, her familiarity with French assisting 
 iiim greatly. 
 
 In Atlanta, as an editor of the Constitution, he was a member 
 of that charmed circle which included Evan P. Howell, X. P. T. 
 Fineli. Henry W. Grady, ^^'allace P. Reed, Sam Small and Frank 
 I,. Stanton. An interruption came to Small's "Old Si " stories, 
 which were making a hit. Howell said: ",Ioe. wliy don't you 
 try your hand ;it this sort of thing? " .and the Constitution jirinted 
 the first of the "L'nele Remus" tales. Their ])opularity was in- 
 stant. Northern publishers began to call for Mr. Harris's sto- 
 ries — greatly to his surjirise. He always seemed inclined to take 
 his fame as a joke — a sort of humorous accident. He was very 
 seriously industrious, however. His wife thinks "Free .Toe " m;is 
 his favorite amoni; his stories. 
 
riu- |ii)|)iil;irity of liis dialect work lias obscured 
 
 his value as novelist, historian, poet, and essayist. 
 
 .Many of his unsigned editorials and articles might 
 
 lie identified by the quaint, sweet humor of his style, 
 
 ,i were tiiere no otiier way. As this in 'Must Rain 
 
 ,, Knough": "People say that there lias beei.i too much 
 
 t^ niin. But has the grass coni))lained .'' Have the 
 
 i^W» uKirning-glories entered protest?" And this, in 
 
 ".Midsununer Madness." (ui the weather: "The motto 
 
 for summer is: Keep cool .■ind don't i'ret : we ma\- be li;i)ipv vet." 
 
 Mr. Harris's home, paid for with his pen. was tiie first fruits 
 of his literary success, the Constitution enabling him to take earlier 
 possession by arranging easy terms of payment for him. 
 His daughters. Lillian and .Mildred (Mrs. Fritz Wagener and 
 Mrs. Edwin Camp), and .loel Chandler, Jr.. were born here. He 
 brought three little sons with him — Julian, Lucien, and Evelyn. 
 He lost three children. Of his home Rev. Dr. Lee, his friend for 
 years, has said: "You could never enter his door without a sense 
 of a subtle, genial presence resting on evirything about the house. 
 Every child he had did seemingly as he pleased, but grew up to 
 express in orderly conduct and attention to duty the sweet music 
 of his father's house." 
 
 It must have been a proud day for him. whose early life had 
 been such a struggle with untoward conditions, when he here in- 
 stalled his wife, his mother, and his family of young children. It 
 was never a jjretentious dwelling, but always roomy, sunshiny and 
 comfortable; it wore the air of being the abode of a man who loved 
 home, wife, mother, and children; who loved trees, tlower.s, and 
 birds ; and who was a good neighbor. The children of the vicinity 
 knew the ta.ste of the apples that fell from the old a])ple trees in 
 his garden, and of the persimmons that were to be found among the 
 ru.stling leaves inside of his fence when autumn winds shook them 
 from their boughs ; and everybody knew the color and smell of his 
 flowers. Neighbors received "messes" of vegetables from "Snap 
 Bean Farm," as he humorously called the lot overlooked by his 
 veranda, where honeysuckle vines and other things besides edibles 
 grew and domestic animals found pasturage. In his magazine he 
 wrote as "The Farmer of Snap Bean Farm" and "Mr. Billy San- 
 ders of Shady Dale." 
 
 The Sign of the Wren's Nest, gradually abbreviated to its pres- 
 ent name, acquired this title years ago. when a pair of wrens built 
 a nest in the mail box at the gate, and Mr. Harris protected them in 
 their occupation, saying to human protest: "Make other arrange- 
 ments for mail. We must not break uj) a home. " When Mr. Harris 
 built his house here, this part of Atlanta was in the woods. Of a sap- 
 
ling beside his door, he said to his wife when lie forbade its be- 
 ing cut down: "This tree shall be my monument." That sapling, 
 now a lordly tree, shades the entrance. 
 
 I recall my first visit to this home. The happy wife and chil- 
 dren, the venerable mother, and even the household jjcts reflected in 
 their air of peace and content, the spirit of tiie master. In the hall, 
 an unobtrusive stair ran up. "Where to?" I asked. "Mr. Harris's 
 study among the treetops — at least, he built it for that," his wife 
 said. "But he doesn't do much writing up there!" interpolated his 
 son, .Julian, then a lad, with twinkling eyes. "He can't stay away 
 from us!" "But doesn't your laugiiter and t.ilking disturb him?" 
 "He likes it! He writes most of his stories with us around hiui. He 
 reads them to us and asks wh.-it we tliink of them." 
 
 The engaging manner in wliieli .(ulian "gave away " his sire in 
 small bits of information was delicious exposure of Mr. Harris's 
 comradeship with his children. "Come! " said he, with the genuine 
 Harris friendliness, "and I will show you the Mockingbird Tree." 
 .\nd he pointed out the lofty |)oplar where warbled the songster that 
 inspired Mr. Harris's ])rose idyl. Tlsit y.ird .uid garden, and the 
 trees and vines ! One 
 could easily imagine 
 Uncle Remus here, 
 and Brer Rabbit 
 hopping eontidential- 
 ly from leafy covert 
 to hold confab with 
 him — and hopping 
 back hastily if a 
 s t r a n g e r hove in 
 sight. 
 
 Whimsically wise 
 was Uncle Remus 
 about his wild things. 
 One day. when in 
 the C o n s t i t ution 
 building. I wanted 
 to ])eep in on Uncle 
 Renuis. But on what 
 errand of impor- 
 tance? T crept into 
 his den, where he sat 
 busy at his desk. 
 ))ai)ers all around. 
 "Uncle Remus," 1 
 said, "I want to ask 
 you something about I'rijiliin/ o/fici' nl rmuu-nld. Whirr ilr. 
 
 Hitrrix Leiirni'O fu Set Tjipe. 
 
•\ 
 
 Hrcr li.-ibbit. " I liad his tar — and his twinkling 
 eves. "Mr. Harris, you know rahhits can't climb. 
 Xow. you .say, in your story. Brer Rabbit 'clonib a 
 tree' How could he?" "He was bleedzed to!' 
 1 luicklrd Uncle Remus. By like unanswerable re})ly. 
 In- is said to have stopped the mouth of grave natural- 
 ists calling on him for explanation of the prowess 
 of liis wild creatures, and to have demolished Presi- 
 dent Roosevelt in "nature study " controversy at the 
 White House. "The Blue Jay." "The Mockingbird," "The Self- 
 Educated Dog." and other essays of their class reveal him, however, 
 as a serious and accurate observer of animal life. "The scientists 
 are a very unhappy lot ; they deny everything, they doubt every- 
 thing," he remarked during the "nature study" controversy. "A 
 creature hunted and a creature at jilay are not the same, though 
 each may be identical with the other. A hunter must have blood, 
 and a naturalist must have specimens, whereas an observer needs 
 only his patience and sharj) eyes." 
 
 "How's ole Sis Cow.'' " was Andrew Carnegie's greeting to him as 
 they met in the middle of his walk. "Poly," chuckled Uncle Remus. 
 "Sis Cow" had put them on easy terms at once, and they sat down 
 on a bench under the Mockingbird Tree and "had a mighty good 
 time," joking and chuckling, the one in Negro dialect, the otiier 
 in broad Scotch brogue. "Andrew Carnegie is just a i)lain ordi- 
 nary fellow, and mighty good com|)any, too," Uncle Remus is 
 said to have reported of his guest, and the millionaire ironmaster 
 reported of him, "He has given a helping hand to all the world. 
 He's won the hearts of all the children, and that's glory enough for 
 any man." 
 
 His friendsiiips were deep and lasting. He never forgot the 
 Turners and others who were kind to him in his early years. After 
 Evan Howell's death, when inviting Clark Howell, then candi- 
 date for Governor of Georgia, to hold a campaign r.ally on the 
 lawn at the Wren's Nest, he wrote: "I have lived here thirty years 
 in concealment, and if I do not make myself cons])icuous at this 
 meeting of your friends, it will be because I have never made myself 
 conspicuous anywhere. You never really knew the relations existing 
 between your father and myself. They were something finer than the 
 things poets write about. We were together for nearly thirty years 
 and there was never a ripple in the strong stream of our confidence 
 and faith in each other." 
 
 The Wren's Nest is truly classic ground. James Whitcomb Ri- 
 ley was its guest for weeks. Joaquin .Miller, Dr. Lyman Abbott, 
 members of the Gilder family, \Valter H. Page, A. B. Frost, Rich- 
 ard Alalcolm Johnston and many other famous folks of our own 
 land and some from over seas have visited it. The master received 
 
witli tiR- grace of tin- warm litart all who laiiii- in simplicity, seeking 
 him simply, be tlie visitor great or lowly. When sought as a ce- 
 lebrity, he hardly knew how to meet the situation, and escaped if 
 he could. 
 
 It was impossible to lionize him. Once, when he and Henry 
 Grady were in New York, Grady engaged to have him at a banquet 
 in his honor. He slipj)ed out of his hotel and fled to Atlanta. 
 -Mrs. Harris gives the sequel: "Before I expected his return, I 
 saw a man that looked like him on a street car crossing one on 
 which I was going down tow-n. 'If I didn't know he was in New 
 York/ I said to myself, 'I would be sure that was he' At the Con- 
 stitution I asked ^Ir. Finch, Managing Editor, when he had last 
 heard from Mr. Harris. 'Why, don't you know he is in town? 
 Haven't you seen him? He came by here and then went home,' said 
 Mr. Finch. Home I went. Mr. Harris was walking contentedly 
 about the lawn. Joel,' I exclaimed, 'why are you hack so soon .''' 
 'Ain't you glad to see me?' he asked. I reassured him on that jjoint I 
 'I got so homesick,' he explained, 'I couldn't stand New York any 
 longer. I just had to come home as quick 
 as I could get here!' 0])portunities for Turin 
 
 F.uroijcan tours ottered. 'No!' said he. 
 'f.urope's too far from home. Georgia's 
 good enough for me I' 
 
 In Eatonton they once thought they had 
 him cornered for a speech. He was on the 
 platform with Grady, and when his turn 
 came they called: "Harris! Harris! " "I'm 
 coming!" he answered, and walked down 
 among them. With some such remark as, "I 
 have never been able to make a speech with- 
 out taking a drink of water; so you must 
 excuse me till I go and get a little water," 
 he escaped while they laughed and cheered. 
 That was his one jiublic sjnech. 
 
 The one person who succeeded in bring- 
 ing him into tile limelight was the President 
 of the United 
 .States. Or. was 
 it a little boy? 
 The reader can 
 decide, ^^'ht■n 
 coming to At- 
 lanta in 190.5. 
 Theodore Roose- 
 velt, then Presi- 
 dent, wrote that 
 
lie and liis wift- wanted to meet Uncle Remus. When the reception 
 committee insisted that Uncle Remus ride in the presidential carriage 
 from the Terminal S;ition to the Governor's Mansion, he meta- 
 phorically "clonib a tree," like Brer Rabbit, because he was 
 "bleedzed to." "I can't," he said. It was then arranged that he 
 should quietly pay his respects to Mrs. Roosevelt at the Gov- 
 ernor's Mansion after her reception. Her little son, Kermit, 
 had written Uncle Remus a letter, saying he was ill, and plead- 
 ing for an autograph; Mr. Harris had responded with an au- 
 tographed book ; further correspondence had ensued. Mr. Harris 
 was at his ease with ^Irs. Roosevelt; here was no grand lady seeking 
 a celebrity, only a mother whose little boy loved him. At her request, 
 he stepped with her on a balcony overlooking the parade where her 
 husband was chief figure. "There's Uncle Remus ! Caught at 
 last! " cried the people, cheering merrily, while he blushed furiously. 
 He went to the Piedmont Driving Club to pay his respects to 
 the President |)rivately. The President, at a state luncheon, sum- 
 moned him to the seat of honor. So there was Uncle Remus at a 
 banquet in spite of himself! "I am going to cause acute discomfort 
 to a man I am very fond of," said the President, and spoke at length 
 of Mr. Harris's virtues as author and citizen, and declared that, "as 
 many great things as Georgia had done for the Union, she had never 
 
 done a greater than 
 when she gave .loel 
 Chandler Harris to 
 American literature." 
 His visit to the 
 White House, in obe- 
 dience to the Presi- 
 dent's invitation, fol- 
 lowed. "I was afraid 
 111- would not go un- 
 til Julian got him on 
 the train," laughed 
 his wife afterwards. 
 "He liked the Roose- 
 \elts very much. But 
 his nervousness about 
 m e e t i ng strangers, 
 who might take him 
 for a celebrity — 
 .iliout being conspic- 
 uous — was distress- 
 ing. It was an afflic- 
 tion." As "Mr. Billy 
 Sanders of Shady 
 
 Tunncold (in rtiiiiti). Harriti Ocru pird Cp^H'V 
 Jjf f/-JJ'tnd Conicr liiujtn. 
 
Dale," he described this visit, giving; 
 this impression of our National dwell- 
 ing: "It's a home; it'll come over you 
 like a sweet dream the minnit you git 
 in the door." And: "To make it all 
 the more iiatchel, a little boy was in 
 the piazzer waitin' to see me, an' what 
 more could you ax than that a little 
 boy should be waitin' for to see you 
 before he was tucked in bed?" 
 
 His charities — he would never have 
 called them that ! — were performed in 
 a manner that was all his 
 own. When his' wife left 
 home, she never knew what 
 property might be miss- 
 ing — or added — on her re- 
 turn. She relates: "I was 
 o\erlooking his wardrobe 
 for a coat I had put away. 
 'Joel.' I asked, 'what did 
 you do with that coat ?' He 
 replied, 'An old man came 
 here one day, asking if 
 there was an old coat I 
 could give him. Why. yes. I told him 
 ing for you. He seemed surprised.' " 
 
 Disturbed by a peddler ottering soap, he said he needed none. 
 "But I am on the verge of starvation, " pleaded the peddler. "Why, 
 man," laugiied Harris, "your clothes look better than mine ! " "If 
 you knew how my poor wife bruslied and smoothed them — " Harris 
 studied him anew, noting that his garments were old and their 
 wearer of genteel bearing. "I answered hastily, " he said. "I need 
 soap. Here is a five dollar bill. I'll take it all in soap. " The ped- 
 dler left his entire stock. 
 
 He was observing his Ramie plant one day when an Oriental 
 woman, bearing a bundle, timidly entered "the gate that is never 
 closed, " as he described the entrance to his grounds. She came bow- 
 ing and smiling. Would the so nice gentleman buy some shawl or 
 some of the most beautiful lace for his lady? And if not so, would 
 he graciously allow one who was prostrate at his feet, to look at the 
 — oh, so pretty tree? Receiving cordial invitation, she fixed her 
 eyes, all her homesick soul in them, on the Ramie plant, like herself, 
 a wanderer from her native land ; and forgot her bundle ; but he did 
 not and his lady acquired more shawl and lace than she knew what 
 to do with. 
 
 Joel 
 
 ( 'hiunUri' 
 
 Ilarrh 
 
 at the 
 
 itije of 
 
 Twentii- 
 
 Oiie 
 
 {Fro in ff 
 glided 
 I'luito 
 i/i-npli) 
 
 Here's one I've been keep- 
 
 13 
 
A 
 
 Joel 
 
 Chandh'i 
 
 /fiirris 
 
 III the 
 
 iige of 
 
 Tweiiti/- 
 
 Fii II r 
 
 ( 'I'hne of 
 
 His 
 iliirriaiji') 
 
 Strict railway i iii[)l(>yfrs oi; tllf 
 line runiiinjr |)ast his lioust- found 
 liiiM a friend. In horse car days he 
 oftrii relieved tile driver wliile the 
 latter went inside the car to warm 
 or eat his iuneh. His interest in his 
 fellow craftsmen was unfailing, and 
 lie never forgot that printers were of 
 this class. The resolutions passed on 
 his death hy the Atlanta Typograph- 
 ical Union was ])erha{)s its first 
 triliute of the kind to anyone. He 
 helped many struggling 
 writers. Need where or- 
 ganized charity does not 
 look, lie relieved witli touch 
 too delicate to wound. The 
 following instances are 
 characteristic: 
 
 "Our young friend, X," 
 he wrote his absent son, "is 
 here on a visit. I found him 
 on the .street, down and 
 out, and brought him 
 home with me — wiiat I would have some one do for you were you to 
 happen on such hard luck." X is a man of mark today — and not the 
 only one who, in the hour of youthful struggle, met the genial grasp 
 of Uncle Remus's hand and sat down at his board. A gentleman he 
 knew became partially jiaralyzed, and his family suffered. Mr. Har- 
 ris, seeking work this man could do, consulted a mutual friend about 
 obtaining for him the postmastership of a new sub-station. The 
 friend exclaimed. "No chance for him against applicants with strong 
 pulls. ' "Strong jnills !" retorted Harris. "You forget he Is a ])ara- 
 lytic! ' "What's that got to do with getting him a government |)osi- 
 tion.''" "Everything! Amos Fox. our ))ostniaster, and Senator Col- 
 quitt have both been paralyzed." He saw Fox .and wrote to C'ol- 
 quitt. The paralytic got the job. 
 
 His dealings with a number of humble ))eiisioMirs of both races 
 was a composition of humor and ])athos. There were some old men 
 on the retired lists of labor who looked to him for sti|)ends as war 
 veterans look to the Ciovernmeiit. A specially pathetic instance was 
 that of a Frenchman, a l.mdscape gardener, a little old man who 
 went blind; his daughter came to the Wren's Nest every week for 
 her father's allowance. To Negroes he was ever kind. 
 
 He did not try to build u)) a large estate, although with fame 
 came profits. His wife relates: "He used to say. 'Let s enjoy things 
 
as we go along, and while we are all together. I j ust want to leave 
 enough when I die to take care of you and the girls. The boys can 
 take care of themselves.' He was generous in his home, although he 
 discouraged extravagance and advocated simple living by precept 
 and exanipK'. He kejit a cabinet of small change which was open to 
 the household at their convenience. While indulgent to his chil- 
 dren, he was firm. 'This is thusly.' he would say, laying down tlie 
 law. He kej)t up hi.s country habits, rising and retiring early. He 
 liked to go out in the morning and trim rosebushes and cut flowers; 
 would bring in great baskets of roses. He liked to look after his 
 raspberry and strawberry vines and his collard patch." 
 
 Who that is familiar with his essays as "The Farmer," will not 
 recall the way in which he served "eornpone and collards" to his 
 readers? There is the little story that his young friend, Don Mar- 
 quis, told of him. Don, going to see him one morning, was greeted: 
 "I want to show you a poem of mine!" Don expected a manuscript. 
 Uncle Renuis took him out in the yard and exhibited a wistaria vine 
 in full bloom ! 
 
 "He liked old tilings, old-fashiontil things," says his wife. 
 "He did not like new furniture, new carjjets; said he didn't like 
 the new smell and was glad when the new wore off; he liked things 
 that had served us; wanted things to stay put. Once, soon after 
 we began housekeeping, when I had been house-cleaning and moving 
 furniture around, he came in and exclaimed: '\\'hy, Essie, you've 
 been changing things around How is a man to know if he is in his 
 own house or some other man's if you change things around so. " 
 
 As an editor, he was "deeply interested in the tremendous move- 
 ments of the present, the onward rush of things. " As a man he un- 
 derstood the heart of youth, the heart of a girl. Witness these ex- 
 tracts from letters to "Billy " (his ))et name for Lillian) at .school: 
 
 "A new set of furnitun — birrlncood : think of that! — is to be 
 ])laced in your room, and it is to be yours all by yourself; everything 
 spick and span, everything new; all the cobwebs knocked down, all 
 the dust blown out." This was anent her home-coming. Inviting 
 her call ui>on his purse: "If you arc to read an essay, you will need 
 a piece of bhit- riblxui to tie it with, and a fan to hide your embar- 
 rassment." Praising her excellent school record, he warns: "But 
 listen, Miss Pods: don't study too hard. Take care of your healtli." 
 "Your report is horribly good. It makes cold chills 
 run over me to think of the amoimt of vitality you 
 must expend to get a perfect report. " "Mamma isn't 
 joking about coming to see you; she'll come." he 
 Ijromises. "My dear, I hoi>e vou'll look at the world 
 as I do as you grow older," he counsels. "If you do, 
 it will be a mixture of mince pie and |)lum ])nd- 
 ding the year rouiul." "Learn to l.iugli .it things 
 
 15 
 
 /i 
 
tliat irritate you. And be generous 
 and kind, and you'll soon tind that 
 the most beautiful part of life is that 
 which you spend in doing good to 
 others." 
 
 "Billy" is home, a young lady 
 grown, and "Tommus" (iSIildred) 
 continues at school. He writes 
 "Tonunus" about "Billy's" aft'airs: 
 "Now, what do you reckon.'' and 
 what do you think ? says I with a 
 nod, says I with a wink. It's noth- 
 ing to eat, it's nothing to drink. Oh, 
 no. indeed, it's better than that; for 
 Billy has bought her a 
 lirand new hat! It's partly 
 a hat, and partly a bonnet, 
 with fluffy white chiffon 
 and roses upon it!" And: 
 "Fritz and Billy Ann tried 
 hard todaj^ to wear out the 
 old red bench in the yard. 
 They sat, and sat, and the 
 breezes blewed, and the 
 birds flewed, and the chick- 
 ens shoed, and the cows chewed, and the pigeons cooed, and the kit- 
 tens mewed, and the road rewd and Stewart stewd. And that ain't all 
 nuther, but I've forgotten the rest. That's always the way. When 
 I get hold of something interesting. I sit right down and forget it." 
 "Bilh'" is now Mrs. Fritz. 
 
 To one of the daughters who was a very little girl at the time, 
 he wrote: "The little yellow kitten is dead. It just died it- 
 self and Mama didn't have anything to do with it. All the other 
 cats are alive and well, and would send love if they knew how 
 nice you are. The little calfy is well. At any rate, it chewed a 
 button off my coat while I was scratching its back. The chickens 
 are all in the ]5en, and they seem to like it. The little children in the 
 neighboriiood have been having birthday jjarties. They are all six 
 years old this year, but nobody knows how young they'll be 20 years 
 from now. Why should they be six this year instead of some other 
 year? " 
 
 To both his daughters at school: "Here comes the old man a- 
 writing to his gals with nothing whatsomever for to write about. 
 Things are very bad about the house when Mama is ailing. It does 
 no good for me to put on old Chloe's frock and try to keep things 
 straight. They will go wrong. And I can't sit down and listen to 
 
the gossip with the neighbors who 
 call. I can listen, but that doesn't 
 satisfy them. Xo, everything goes 
 wrong when Afania is ailing, and 
 even gossij) gets stale. But as I 
 told you, she is getting better now 
 and things will brighten up — noth- 
 ing more so than poor me." 
 
 "The trees are just one mass of 
 bloom," he writes to "Tommus" in 
 springtime. "The roses are begin- 
 ning to bloom. I saw a thrush today. 
 Just now, I hear a catbird singing. ' 
 
 Christmas is coming; the 
 girls at school are eager for 
 the holiday at home. "If 
 my dear gals will collect 
 their thoughts, put them in 
 a bag, and shake them up, 
 they will see that Christ- 
 mas is only twentj'-three 
 days off," he reasures them; 
 and "Tell Mildred to write 
 at once to Mama and tell 
 her what presents she wants 
 
 bought to give to otiurs. Mama will not write this week, as she 
 is so busy fi.\ing for Christmas. We have the cutest present for you 
 both that you ever saw. Fine! Some of us will meet you at the 
 train. — Your loving Daddv." 
 
 1 know of nothing to compare with ]Mr. Harris's letters to his 
 daughters unless it be ]Mark Twain's tribute to his daughter Jean. 
 
 Letters to his sons, lengthy, intensely personal, and intimate, 
 were written with pencil on copy paper usually; began, 'My dear 
 Boy," and ended, "Your affectionate Dad." They show that his 
 sons poured themselves out to him as sons rarely do to fathers, and 
 that they loved their home as his girls did. To I.ucien, in Canada, 
 he wrote: "I am lonesome without you, but not selfishly so. I want 
 you to have all the enjoyment you can. But don't stay away from 
 us simply to show that you are not homesick. There is nothing un- 
 manly in such a feeling. I should think there was something wrong 
 about your mother and me if you were not homesick. " 
 
 To "our little affair, " his son's heart-entanglement, he devotes a 
 series of such letters as women write to women but men rarely write 
 to men. Besides the delicacy, freedom, and intimacy, there is the 
 masculine touch, however. As for the girl herself, who maybe is 
 jilting his boy, he handles her as if she were n flower. "The im- 
 
 17 
 
(P)io(o^r(ipiit'(J (jy Stephensuii ir/ii/i- RiKy irus at the \\'reii'» JVt'sf.) 
 
 JOEL CHANDLER IIJHHIS AM> JAMES WHITCOUli RILEY. 
 
 Riley ■was a ■welcome mnl helari'd iiiie.it itl Ihe Wren's Neat, lie diid 
 Uncle Remus xeere conifen'uil .•:jiirit.i and affertionate friends. On Mr. Har- 
 ris's death Rileij ■wrote Julian Harris: '■The ■world is bo^wed with you in 
 your great berearement. Thiinyh his voice is stilled forever, forever icill 
 it be heard yladdeninii alike the hearts of age and childhood. Airways I 
 think of his I'lirislnias I'riiiier and say amen, as I try to say it nine:" 
 
 18 
 
( By Inn 
 
 Bciiiiiiiiifi J(»/iMs(i)ii. ) 
 
 TBI-: I'OKTR.IIT WITH ■■Till-: I'W I XK Lli" 
 
 "I have now fniinil mil for tlu' first linif -,cli(it iimi meant hjl the twinkle. 
 The twinkle seem.*! to l>c nu . niifnelf, after ail. and I have been (faint/ on all 
 these qeavK, not knaicint/ ichaf Teas misninff from the }thotoifrtt jths I had 
 taken hi) peojile who knew nolhinr/ about the twinkle. .l/r.v. Harri.i deelares 
 that i/oiir portraitu rejyre.ient me o.s" .ihe see.i me." — K.rtract from letter by 
 Mr. Harris to ,l/i.«.v .lohn.iton. Deeemher. 1901!. Mi.'i.i .lohn.tton had sent Mr. 
 Harris a collection of photof/ritjdiic .studies made h(/ herself durinff a visit 
 to the Wren's Nest. 
 
 19 
 
Met II ' pii,s-,'<inn ill de roiitl. 
 
 Brer Possum, whar i/oii (iwine? 
 I bless my life, I thank mij stars. 
 
 I'm hinitiiiii fer de mnscodine. 
 
 To St. Andrew: 
 Thus saith the prophet Joel: 
 "Hit tiikes de Bee fer ler yit sweet- 
 ness 
 (hit'n de hoarhminil hinssom." 
 
 (Courtesy Ladies' Home Journal.* 
 
 ANDREW CARNEGIE AND UNCLE REMUS AT THE 
 WREN'S NEST. 
 
 "Happi/, indeed, that I ean subscribe mi/self not onlii an admirer, but 
 a loving friend of that rare soul. Uncle Remu.'i" — so Mr. Carnegie auto- 
 graphed Ills portrait given to the Wren's Nest. Mr. Harris presented sev- 
 eral of his books to Mr. Carnegie after the tatter's risit to the Wren's Nest 
 in 190G. His inscriptions on .lonie of these appear on this page. 
 
" Ren-eittiititu : 
 
 Thinking of 
 
 thintjn and 
 
 lending liix 
 
 ruse.':. Lii'es in 
 
 the sniiufh of 
 
 Wcft End. 
 where he has 
 If comfortable 
 Jiintie Itnilt to 
 a reroniUt. on a 
 p're-ftrre tot 
 full of thirds. 
 
 fhncers. 
 
 ehildreii and 
 
 collard.i." — 
 
 I'ngli.ih "Who's 
 
 Who." 190S. 
 
 (Cuiiru'.s)' llw World's W urk.t 
 
 WHERE HE WROTE il.iyv OE HIS STORIES. 
 
 portant tiling," he saj'S, "is not so nuicli lur attitude to vou as yours 
 to her." His first care is tliat his son may treat love and woman no- 
 blj'. He is concerned lest his bov may doubt a sincere afl'ection 
 hiding under girlish inconsistencies. With humorous philosophy, he 
 says: "It ought to teach you what I learned long ago — that you 
 can't understand the female sex. I've been knowing your ]SIama tor 
 more than 20 years, but do I know her as well as I do you.^ Well, 
 I can stand up in the floor, and say, I reckon not, by jing!" And: 
 "Love is like a hummingbird's nest — very nuieh in the air. Don't 
 take it too seriously. " 
 
 This love story had a happy ending (as Mrs. Lncien Harris 
 niiglit tell) ; and this may have been somewhat due to Uncle Remus, 
 tiiat good genius of true lovers. He (]nalified charmingly as a fath- 
 er-in-law, and the world may yet hear of him in that capacity in a 
 memoir by Julian's wife, who was one of his chums, and whose lit- 
 erary gifts he encouraged. A slender girl at his side, she used to 
 roam with Uncle Remus about the grounds at the Wren's Xest for 
 many liapjiy hours; and she can tell the loveliest stories about their 
 connnunings. Lucien's wife, standing with me under the Mocking 
 Bird Tree at the last May Festival, mentioned among other remi- 
 niscences of "Father": 
 
 "Sometimes when I'd run over here I'd tind none of the family 
 in but Father. He'd come in the living-room and talk with me — 
 sometimes for a whole afternoon. I know I'.ither loved me for my- 
 self, or he wouldn't have done tli.it. He'd bring me iiresents — a 
 
hook, a box of candy, 
 ■1 pair of gloves — 
 iiid say: 'This is 
 for 3'oii i)fr.sonally — 
 it's just between me 
 ;in(l you — it's none 
 of 'Tootsi'e's' busi- 
 nt'ss. ['Tootsie' was 
 his pet name for Lu- 
 fien, you know.] 
 Don't let's tell any- 
 body.' I'd find ten 
 dollars or something 
 of the kind tucked 
 away in the gift. 
 That was Father's 
 way with us all. " 
 
 His letters about 
 iiis grandbabies, some 
 of whom were born 
 at the Wren's Nest, are delightful in tiuir fun. wisdom, and tender- 
 ness. Here is the wa_v he writes to Billy .iliout a new grandbaby in 
 1897: 
 
 "The news is so scattered that it is hard to gather it uj). In fact 
 there's nothing but the baby. You remember I told you he was very 
 old. Well, it's a fact. He is bald-headed, and all his teeth have 
 dropped out, and his head is wabbly and he is too decrepit to walk. 
 And he's irritable too, just like an old man. When he j'clls for his 
 food, he talks as the donkey does, only not so loud. But he sleeps 
 most of the time, and this is another sign of extreme old age; he can 
 hold nothing in his hands. He may grow younger as he grows older, 
 and I hoj)e he will. You said something about mj' being a grandpa. 
 But the way I look at it, this baby is too small and wrinkled to 
 count. If I'm to be a grand])a, I want to be one sure enough. I 
 want to be the grandpa of something that you can find without hunt- 
 ing through a bundle of shawls and blankets. If this is what you 
 call a grandpa, anybody can be one, for all you've got to do is to get 
 a squall and wrap it up in a shawl, and there you are ! Mama hov- 
 ers around and looks wise, and seems to think that every time the 
 clock strikes, the squall ought to be smothered with a quart of 
 catnip tea. No name has yet been found that is quite good 
 enough." 
 
 Loving children and at ease with them as they were with him, 
 he was unable to encounter even them in any ceremonious way. 
 His fifty-eighth birthday was to be celebrated in Children's Room, 
 Carnegie I.ibrarv. and he was asked to address the children. The 
 
Iiour arrived, and this note from Uncle Remus to Miss Anne ^^'al- 
 lace, Librarian: 
 
 "I do not know how I can ever e()n\ey to you my grat- 
 itude for making my poor birthday an occasion for celebration by 
 the chihlrcn of Atlanta. No higher tribute could be paid than this; 
 and I am far from being sure that I deserve it. Yet what a great 
 thing it would be if, after all. I did deserve it. 
 
 "I should like to be there — but how can I face the children — 
 their beauty, their sweetness, their innocence — how can I appear be- 
 fore these little ones without bursting into tears of gratitude ^ How 
 could I, knowing what they are there for, behold them without mak- 
 ing great displ;iy of what Brer Rabbit would call his big boo-hoo ? 
 I de])end upon your woman's heart — which ne\er fails to know — to 
 sympathize with what I mean — ;ind what I feel. Your faithful and 
 affectionate friend, Joel Chandler H.\rris. 
 
 That note might be read as a part of the ceremonial in every cel- 
 ebration of his birthday. Its sjiirit of reverence for woman and 
 childhood — a s))irit that marked him always — makes eternal appeal 
 for our reverent memory of him and all that concerned him. It is 
 fitting that to a band of women should be entrusted the charge ot 
 keeping his memory green by preserving his home as a shrine. 
 
 His last Christmas editoria 
 like a tender \.iledictory to 
 all the world: it concludes: 
 "The Farmer wishes for old 
 and young the merriest 
 Christmas and the happiest 
 New Year the world has 
 ever seen. He hopes the 
 materialist may never be 
 able to destroy in the minds 
 of the children the buddini; 
 faith in things luiseen. the 
 kindling belief in things be- 
 yond their knowledge; he 
 hopes that Santa Claus will 
 come to them while they 
 sleep, and that real Fairies 
 will dance in their innocent 
 dreams." 
 
 An editorial on "The 
 Matter of Belief" ( writt. ii 
 long before, but ajjpearing 
 in strange coincidence with 
 his death), reflects his 
 
 1, "Christmas and the Fairies," reads 
 
 ICiiiirli'sy Kimk N<-i:s Vfimllily) 
 
 .Vr.v. JiH'l ChaiuUrr JltirriK mid 
 Ilir (Jraiidrliililriii. 
 
own simple faith: "We must become as little children;" we must be 
 In-otlurly; and "The I'arnier knows that He who created life, which 
 is tiie greatest mystery of all. is fully equal to the production of all 
 other mysteries and miracles. ' "His faith in Providence was always 
 very strong," says his wife. "Whenever we were in trouble, he 
 would say, "God will take care of us.' He was always sure of that." 
 He was not a member of the church visible until shortly before his 
 death when he was received into the Catholic communion, that of 
 his wife; but he was always deeply religious. When he was a little 
 boy, his mother took him to his grandmother's funeral. In a letter, 
 written when a young man, he describes the impression made upon 
 him by these words of the service: "I am the Resurrection and the 
 Life;" they rang in his ears continually; he wrote them in his copy- 
 book; they abided with him as the strongest in his soul's experience. 
 
 He was only sixty when death touched him — before the years 
 could bend him or the sunshine of his days could dim. "Humor is 
 a great thing to live by," he once wrote, "and other things being 
 equal, it is a profitable thing to die by." He met death sweetly, reso- 
 lutelv, genially, knowing for several days that the end was near. 
 The old playful, whimsical manner of his intercourse with his fam- 
 ily was preserved until he sank into unconsciousness. To his son's 
 greeting one morning, "How are you, leather.''" he replied, his eyes 
 striving for their merry twinkle, "I am about the extent of a tenth 
 of a gnat's eyebrow better." Once, Julian said, "Father, your time 
 has not j'et come to be no more." He answered: "Rather when a 
 man dies, instead of saying, 'He is no more,' say, 'He is forever!' " 
 In his own quaint words, he went in childlike faith, "to see what is 
 on the other side," jiassing away July 3, 1908. at 7:58 in the evening. 
 
 Sunday, July i, he was borne from his home to St. Anthony's 
 Church nearby, and after the last rites, simple as he would have had 
 them, were performed by Father Jackson, he was laid to rest in 
 Westview Cemetery. Rev. Dr. J. W. Lee preached a memorial ser- 
 mon to him in Trinity M. E. Church. Protestant and Catholic thus 
 united to do him honor. His grave is marked by a granite boulder 
 on which these words selected from his writings by Julian, are in- 
 scribed as his epitaph : 
 
 "I seem to see before me the smiling faces of thousands of chil- 
 dren — some young and fresh and some wearing the friendh' marks of 
 age, but all children at heart — and not an unfriendly face among 
 them. And while I am trying hard to sjjeak the right word, I seem 
 to hear a voice lifted above the rest, saying: 'You have made some 
 of us happy.' And so I feel my heart fluttering and my lijis trem- 
 bling and I have to bow silently, and turn away and hurry into the 
 obscurity that fits me best. " 
 
 Never into obscurity, O sweet, brave soul I The sun shines — and 
 it shines for us all — wherever you are ! 
 
 President Theodore Roosevelt wrote to Julian: "His writings 
 
will last. To very few writers is it given to create one of the un- 
 dying characters of story, and this was given to Joel Chandler Har- 
 ris in the creation of Uncle Remus. But his yncle Remus stories 
 are but a small part of his writings which have great and permanent 
 value. _ _ _ From the standpoint of our common American 
 citizenship, it seems to me that the ethical quality of your father's 
 writings was quite as important as their purely literary value. _ _ _ 
 Your father was a genius ; and furthermore, he was a man who in 
 his private life, in its modesty, its simplicity, its kindliness and re- 
 finement, illustrated the verj' quality which we must all of us like to 
 see typical of the homes of the Nation; and finally, he never wrote 
 anvthing which did not make the man or woman reading it feel a lit- 
 tle better, feel that his or her imj)ulses for good had been strength- 
 ened ; feel a more resolute purpose to do with cheerfulness and cour- 
 age, with good sense and charity, whatever duty was next to be done.' 
 
 President Woodrow Wilson paid this tribute, in a recent letter 
 to ISIrs. A. McD. Wilson: "I am one of the very enthusiastic admir- 
 ers of the man who has given us at once so much instruction and so 
 much pleasure in his depicting of the character of the old-fashioned 
 Negro of the South." 
 
 This sketch, issued by the Association which preserves his home 
 as his monument, deals, and fitly, with his home life rather than with 
 his work as a man of letters. The world has been and will be re- 
 minded in many other ways of his position in literature, which must 
 strengthen with the years. He ranks with its finest and sweetest 
 humorists, and as one of its greatest masters of folklore, a science 
 which has come to be recognized as such only within a century. 
 
 He is grouped with St. Francis of Assissi, who preached sermons 
 to birds ; with Hans Christian Andersen, the Griuun brothers, and 
 others of their cult who, in preserving the world's folklore, have pre- 
 served its prehistoric literature. In Negro dialect, he has no equal. 
 The service which he performed could not now be rendered by any 
 other, for the plantation life of the old South and the old Negro 
 have passed away. His popularity is extensive. An American tour- 
 ist in F.gypt. saw, on a boat on the Nile, a grouj) of children around 
 a story-teller's knee, listening to "Nights with Uncle Remus " told 
 in a foreign tongue. A traveler in Australia reported that the 
 "Uncle Remus" classics greeted him in bookshops wherever he 
 turned. In Anglicized Africa, the Negro's native habitat, they are 
 much read. Several Georgians dining in London with a nobleman, 
 made casual reference to Atlanta. "Oh, " exclaimed a chorus, "that's 
 where Uncle Remus lives!" In the University of Berlin, a lecturer 
 on American Literature, pronounced "Uncle Rennis, His Songs and 
 Sayings." the "most important individual contribution to American 
 literature since 1870." As an estimate, sincere and rounded, we 
 give this, written by one of his associates at the time of his death: 
 
 "He was the articulate voice of the wonderful folklore of that 
 
 25 
 
liiiiiil)K-r race whose rwry mood and ttiise he knew with coiii|)lete 
 eonij)reliensiveness. His .shrewd, kindly, and humorous delineation 
 of the Xejjro. and the reasoning; life he has given the simple animals 
 of the fields and forests make him known wherever people read and 
 think. His mission was — and is — broader. For his folklore and 
 his no\els. his short stories and his poems breathe consist( ntly a dis- 
 liufiuishinif ])!iilanthro])y. It is the creed of o])tiniism. of nuitiial 
 trust and toh'ranci for .all things living, of common sense .and of 
 idealism that is worth wiiile because it tits the un\arnished duty 
 of e\erv liour." 
 
 And these iiiKs from I'r.ank I.. St.anton's beautiful tribute: 
 
 "'He miidf the lowlif viihin-prcn 
 Lifflil III!' fur 'idndow.i of tlic icarld!" 
 
 And these from the poem in which Ke\-. (ieorge W. Belk voiced 
 the plaint of the children for the loss of their wonderful stcn-y- 
 teller: 
 
 Thi' nihbit idll hUle 
 .1.1 he alien i/x hid. 
 
 .hid the fo.v will do 
 .In III' <flxcai/.t did. 
 
 J) III ic'ho mil tell its 
 What fhfi/ anil 
 
 Since l^iicli' Rrniit.i 
 lilts jinssf'tl tticntt'^ 
 
 26 
 
Cist of !!5ooK$ b^ Hoel <ri)an6ler Dfarris 
 
 ]'h()M the Hakhis 1?ii!i.1()(;i! AiMiv i!V Kathahink H. Woottex, 
 Lihniilini. CanK-f/ic Lihrari/, Athnifn. On. 
 
 Aaron in tlu- \\'ild\V()()ds — 1897. 
 
 Halaam and His Mastir— 1 891 . 
 
 Hislio)) and tlu- Boogcrinan — 1909. 
 
 C'hronioKs of Aunt .Mintrvv Ann — 1899. 
 
 Daddy .(akr. tlu- Runaway — 1889. 
 
 Free Jot — 1887. 
 
 Gabriel Tolliver— 1902. 
 
 History of Cleorgia — 1896. 
 
 Kidna))in<; of President i.ineoin — 19(19 ( piiblislied originally 
 
 under tlu' title. "On the Wing of Oeeasions" — 1900). 
 Little Mr. Tliimblefinger and His Queer Country — 1891'. 
 Little Union Sc(^ut — 190i. 
 Making of a Statesman — 1902. 
 Mingo, and Other Sketches — 188L 
 .Mr. Rabbit at Home (a sequel to "Little Mr. Thimblefinger") — 
 
 189.5. 
 Nigiits With Uncle Remus— 1883. 
 On tile Plantation, a Story of a Cieorgia Boy's Adventures During 
 
 tlie War— 1892. 
 On the Wing of Occasions — 1900 (republished in 1909 under the 
 
 title. "Kidnaping of President Lincoln"). 
 Pl.iutation Pageants— 1 899. 
 
 Sliadow Between His SliouUlir Bl.ides — e. 19(17. 
 Sister Jane — 1896. 
 Stories of Georgia — 1896 (also published under the title, "History 
 
 of Georgia"). 
 Story of Aaron — 188.5. 
 
 Tales of the Home Folks in I'r.u-e .lud W.ir — 1898. 
 ■r.ir-Bal>y. and Other Rhymes— I 90 I-. 
 Told by Uncle Remus -190.5. 
 Uncle Remus and His Friends — 1892. 
 LTncle Remus and Brer Rabbit — c. 1907. 
 Uncle Remus, His Songs and Sayings — 1880. 
 Uncle Remus and the Little Boy— c. 1910. 
 Wally Wanderoon — 1903. 
 
 In addition to the above. Mr. Harris was editor and translator 
 of many books. Of chief interest is the "Life of Henry W. Grady," 
 which he edited. 
 
 27 
 
n^y ~7e st 1 1)^ ..^■'^^i# 
 
^t tl)e Sign of the Wren's litest 
 
 Here in /his loreli/ wnnilerliiinl 
 
 Of dreams and memories. 
 It seems where'er I (/a or sloiid 
 
 He also present is. 
 
 I do no I see hint, ifet I feel 
 
 That, somehow, he is tiiffh — 
 1 dream. Iiul sometimes ilreams reeeal 
 
 Thint/s hidden from the ei/e. 
 
 Absorbed in thon()ht.i and dreams of liim, 
 
 These pleasant paths I pare. 
 When sudden, from some rorerl dim. 
 
 Upon me smiles his fare! 
 
 Perhaps a t/lint of sunshine, or 
 
 Onlt) ml) fnnci/'s tchim. 
 Yet in mi/ heart if rcoke onre more 
 
 Old memories of him. 
 
 These boui/hs xvhirh droop almre nii/ head 
 
 Are ■whisperini) to me: 
 It seems as thouijh the;/ soft It/ said: 
 
 "We knew him. Where is he.'" 
 
 From erert/ hloomini/ hush and sprai/ 
 
 Past TC'hirh I sloich/ i/o. 
 A murmur romes that .leems to sai/: 
 
 "He's gone; we loved him so." 
 
 A wren upon her nest J see: 
 
 She eyes me unafraid. 
 A sheltered plare of saueliti/ 
 
 Here for her brood he made. 
 
 The morkbirds sanr/ for him their liest : 
 
 He knew their wild-life wai/s. 
 Hark! One, even now, perrhed on its nest, 
 
 Krstatic sinffs his praise. 
 
 Wise was his iiiind; it'ide was his heart: 
 
 Both took the whole world in. 
 He chose the world's best for his art. 
 
 Loved all — save onli/ sin. 
 
 Ah, (jenius is a ijift divine. 
 
 Revered wherever found. 
 Harris! the world knmcs surh was thine: 
 
 Hence here is hallowed f/round. 
 
 The sun has vanished from the xcest. 
 
 All but its i/olden rim: 
 yir/ht comes, with stars upon her breast; 
 
 The world (/rows slill ami dim, 
 
 I, dreaminij still, mi/ steps retrace: 
 Tears, too, have dimmed mine ei/es — 
 
 Which star, friend, is thi/ dwellin;/ place 
 In yonder splendid skies' 
 
 — Charles W. Hubner, 
 
 29 
 
(Pllolo. The .Missra Meml Sluiiio.) 
 
 MRS. ARTHUR McDKRMOTT WILSON, 
 
 President of the Uncle Retnua Memorial Association, the woman 
 xt'ho, above and bei/ond all others, has assured the success of 
 the memorial movement. insi>irin(/ her as-iociates at all times 
 xeith hof>e and perseverance, and btf her personal initiative 
 raising at h ast tico-thirds of titr i>urchase price of the Wren's 
 Nest.' 
 
 30 
 
 "1 
 
Ol)e ^Inmns of tl)e Wren's yid^l 
 
 TIIK inoveiiK'nt tor a immorial lo Jotl t'liamlK-r Harris came 
 as naturally as a flower might upsin-iiiji' from a grave, and 
 wliilc yet he lay at rest in his home, witii the hirds he loved singing 
 unconscious requiem in his tre( s. 
 
 Witli the announcement on July 1, of his jjassing away, the 
 press voiced public feeling in calling for a monument to him. As is 
 usual in the history of memorials, there was divergence of opinion 
 as to the form tile monument should take. A statue ; an Uncle Re- 
 mus |)ark; a drinking fountain; a bronze tablet; and the purchase 
 and preservation of his home, were among suggestions as to its form. 
 
 At a meeting, called by the mayor, .July 10, in the City Council 
 Chamber, the Uncle Remus Memorial Association was organized; a 
 committee, appointed to decid<' on the form of memorial reported, at 
 a memorial meeting in the Grand Opera House, July 19, in favor 
 of the home; $30,000, it was estimated, would cover purchase and 
 equipment. A statue in a jniblic place, the more conventional type, 
 might have been chosen but for Mr. Harris's own protest as often 
 ex))ressed to wife and friends: "Don't erect any statue of marble 
 or bronze to me to stand out in the rain and cold and dust. " It was 
 remembered how he had loved his home; how characteristic of him it 
 was. the house built according to liis own ideas, the grounds elocjuent 
 of his ramblings and his tending. Tiie committee's decision was 
 generally approved, yet there lingered, as is usual, some division 
 of opinion. 
 
 The gentlemen of the connnittee, who were burdened with per- 
 sonal business resi)onsibilities, presently found that they could not 
 give the movement the attention it recjuired, and welcomed the for- 
 mation of the Ladies' Auxiliary in February, 1909; in October, they 
 decided to retire as an organization, the ladies succeeding lo the title 
 and office of the Uncle Remus Memorial Association, and themselves 
 ai)pearing as Advisory Board. Colonel Frederic .1. Paxon, Chair- 
 man of this Board, has been unfailing friend and counsellor to the 
 ladies: they feel that the successful issue of the mo\ement is largely 
 due to his readiness to give them his time, his advice, and his aid. 
 
 The official board of the Association, as existing, is nearly the 
 same as of the Auxiliary when formed, with Mrs. A. McD. Wilson 
 for President. These annals are too brief to chronicle individual 
 endeavors, but the Association would have mention made that 
 next, in \alue of service, to their I'risident ranks Mrs. E. I,. Con- 
 
nally, wlio lias htcii ;; hap])y link in the work through hei long 
 and close friendship with Mrs. Wilson and the Harris family. 
 Her historic residence, "The Homestead" is in West End, and thus 
 neighbor to the Wren's Xest. The daughter of Georgia's ^\'ar Gov- 
 ernor, Joe Brown, and sister of Georgia's recent Governor Joe 
 Brown, she brought the influence of these connections to the aid of 
 the memorial interest. It is desired, too, that special and reverent 
 tribute be paid to the lovely labors of Mrs. Marshall V. Eckford 
 and Mrs. T. L. Stokes, two associates who have passed away. 
 
 Mrs. H. G. Hastings has been the faithful Recording Secre- 
 tary of the Association for its four years of existence; Mrs. 
 Thomas T. Stevens for nearly that period its efficient Treasurer, 
 and always its loyal and resourceful promoter ; her predecessor, 
 Mrs. W. B. Price-Smith, served in several capacities, as has the 
 present Auditor, Mrs. Heifner. The first large sum turned into 
 the fund by an associate was $t()() realized from an enterprise 
 handled by Mrs. Fred Stewart — it was an inspiration at the mo- 
 ment that it came ! 
 
 The ladies, from the first, limited operations to what they 
 could do themselves, without one paid officer on their board. They 
 made no active canvass for funds. Their idea was that as many 
 loved Uncle Remus, many might have a share in his memorial with 
 special opportunity for small aids from children. Assistance has 
 been welcomed and utilized in whatever form it came, A gift of 
 Greek coins from a friend in Illinois; $5 from a woman's club with 
 request for violet roots from the home; tiny sum from a children's 
 Sunshine Society in Florida; an offering from the Children of the 
 Confederac}' in Marietta; a modest check from Matthew Page An- 
 drews, President of the Randall literary Memorial Society; an- 
 other from the Southern Club of Smith College — first Southern 
 body in a Northern institution to remember their cause; one from 
 Bessie Tift College in Forsyth where part of Mr. Harris's early 
 struggles were made — these helped by the sympathy and interest 
 thus evinced in the formative period of their undertaking. 
 
 Cooperation from schools and colleges has been, and is, highly 
 valued. Miss Hanna's school, Atlanta, was first to render aid. 
 Next came schools and kindergartens in Ohio, Illinois. Carolina, 
 Alabama, and in Athens, Albanj', and Coving-ton, Ga. Kentucky's 
 children rank next to Georgia's in interest shown. !Mrs. Frank L. 
 Woodruff", the Association's Field Secretary in that State, has sent 
 several contributions from "Uncle Remus Circles" in Ix)uisville and 
 Lexington; once •'t'lOO given in pennies. Among Atlanta institutions, 
 the Boys' and Girls' High Schools. ]Marist College, "Tech" Boys' 
 High School, ]Miss Woodberry's School and Washington Seminary 
 have lent a read}' hand. 
 
 The ladies gave several entertainments and essaved various 
 
I' rim- It till (J the Deed, Jim. IS, 1913. Left to E!(/ht~Mrs. Mi/rta Lock- 
 ett Avari/, F. J. I'n.von. Mrs. E. C. Connalli). Mr.i. W. B. Price-Smith, 
 Mrs. T. T. Stepen.1. Mrs. Wilson. Mrs. Harris. Eui/ene Black. Lncien Harris. 
 
 Ortiup on Steps — Left to rif/ht. Aileen Harris. LnRose Wai/ener, Mary 
 Harris, ifrandchildren of Uncle Remus: Mart/ Broin'ii Spatdini/. Second 
 row, Lucien Harris. Mrs. Harris. Mrs. Wilson. Mrs. Connalli). Third row. 
 Mrs. Lucien Harris. Mrs. Fritz Waf/ener, Col. Pa.von, Mrs. Stevens, Mrs. 
 Ararij. Fourth row. Mr. A. McD. Wilson. Miss Katharine Wootten. Mr. 
 li. T. Connalhj. Mrs. R. T. Connalli/, Mrs. J. .J. Martin. Mr. Euijene Black. 
 
feminine devices in the interest of the fund, all tending- to so- 
 eial pleasure and good feeling. They felt that cheerfulness 
 and sweetness of spirit must peri-ade all they did for .1 memo- 
 rial to Liicle Remus. The teas in the Governor's .Mansion, by 
 courtesy of the Governor's wife, Mrs. Joseijh iSI. Brown, merit 
 more than passing note. Much more than passing mention must 
 be made of the May Festival at the Wren's Nest, inaugurated 
 by Mrs. Brevard M(mtgomery, which has passed into an annual cus- 
 tom, having been observed every May since Mr. Harris died. Its 
 growing beauty and popularity is a reward to the many ladies 
 wliose diligent labors go to making it the pretty pageant it is. 
 
 The May Festival at the Wren's Nest is in itself an appropriate 
 memorial to the former master. His lawns and gardens must please 
 Uncle Remus mightily on May Day if, in the sijirit, his eyes look 
 
 on at the jNIaypole Dance, 
 and the Crowning of the 
 May Queen; the "Honey 
 Bee Tree," "Thimblefin- 
 ger \\'ell." "Miss ]\Ieadows 
 and the Gals, " "Tar Baby 
 Booth, " "Brer Rabbit and 
 Brer Fox," and other 
 materializations from his 
 books, with flitting forms 
 and merry voices of child- 
 hood making all the place 
 glad and g;iy- Besides 
 the chief reason — its me- 
 morial interest — for con- 
 Small admission fees and 
 
 {Courtesy Book Nejos .iMonlliiy.) (Pliolri by UImm.) 
 
 Mrs. Wilson Recehini) thr A'^'i/.v 
 
 frinii Mrs. Ihirrh. 
 
 another 
 
 uid souvenirs suj)ply revenue toward 
 
 tinning the custom, there i' 
 sales of simple refreshment,'- 
 the su])port of the home. 
 
 "Uncle Remus Day" was inaugurated by the ladies in U(UI. 
 when through their efforts, seconded by Prof. ^^'. M. Slaton, Atlan- 
 ta's Superintendent of Public Schools, the schools of the city held 
 an Uncle Remus hour of song and story. Dec. 9, Mr. Harris's birth- 
 day. Another year the interest was enlisted of the State Commis- 
 sioner of Public Schools, Prof. M. L. Brittain. In 1912, observance 
 extended throughout Georgia and to other States; to colleges, wo- 
 men's and children's clubs, and public libraries. 
 
 The most im|)ortant help the work ever received came in 1910 
 from Theodore Roosevelt. Mrs. Wilson, basing request on his 
 known friendshi]) for Uncle Remus, asked him to lecture in Atlanta 
 for the memorial fund. His acceptance and the lecture that fol- 
 lowed, Oct. 8, turned the balance of fate and public opinion in favor 
 of the home's preservation, not only because of the money it brought, 
 nearly $.5,000, but by this seal of approval from "the world's fore- 
 most citizen " as imiversally acclaimed. Andrew Carnegie du))li- 
 
Liifii II ff iirris 
 P rrsrii I ill 1/ 
 L'lrtllif i'up 
 1,1 
 
 Mis. Wilson 
 ,il III, 
 
 Wrrii's Xestf 
 J nil mini IS, 
 Jf-l/J. 
 
 The formal transffrenct 
 b}' deed occurred January 
 room. After this cereiiioiiy, 
 witli a hiving-cup in.serihed 
 
 cated tile proceeds of tiiis lecture. The largest single contribution 
 has been •i*.') ,()()() from the Harris family. Recital of these large 
 gifts by no means minimizes smaller ones. The penny of a child he 
 loved would be precious to Uncle Remus. The smallest aid to the 
 movement eonnnands the respect of the Association; particularly 
 when it comes from a measure which is, in itself, a memorial, as 
 from "L'ncle Hemus Circles." "L'ncle Remus Parties," and "Read- 
 ings from Uncle Remus." 
 
 of the Wren's Nest to the Association 
 1<S, 1913, in Uncle Rennis's favorite 
 Lueien Harris presented Mrs. Wilson 
 "To Mrs. A. Mel). Wilson in apjjre- 
 ciation of her efforts in liihalf of the Uncle Remus Memorial — 
 Essie I.aRose Harris, Julian Harris, Lueien Harris. Evelyn Harris. 
 Mrs. Fritz Wagener, Mrs. Edwin Camp, Joel Chandler Harris," .i 
 testimonial which the Association was happy to see bestowed upon 
 its leader by those who loved Uncle Remus best. They realized 
 with jjride liow deserved it was ; and that their President, above 
 and beyond all others, had assured the success of their cause, in- 
 spiring them at all times with hojjc and perseverance, and by her 
 personal initiative, raising at least two-thirds of the purchase price. 
 "This has been my home for a long time," Mrs. Harris said of 
 the transfer, "and I hate to give it up, but I feel that this is for the 
 best. If it passed into private hands, it might suffer change. Now, 
 I know that our home will be kept as he left it and as he loved it. I 
 know that you will cherish every tree, flower, and shrub that he 
 spoki' ol and lovid. as I li/i\c cherished them. ^ ou will let the wild 
 
 35 
 
tilings t'etl at home here as he did and as I have done. It would 
 please him, if he could know, that little children will always play 
 about the place. " 
 
 His bedroom and ]i\ing room are to be kept as he left them. 
 His widow donates the furnishings, among which are his fa- 
 vorite chair, writing-table, inkstand, pen, and many rejics besides. 
 Other rooms will be used for a public library, a branch of the Car- 
 negie, already established; a free kindergarten, it is hoped; and sim- 
 ilar public utilities as they may be developed, all in keeping with the 
 memorial sentiment. ]Mrs. Harris has given for the library a num- 
 ber of books which belonged to her husband. A valuable collec- 
 tion of author's autographed copies and of autographed photographs 
 has been secured for it by Mrs. Lollie Bell "W'vlie. A feature of 
 Mrs. Wylie's collection is the bronze medallion portrait of Mr. Har- 
 ris by the sculptor, Roger Noble Burnham, a contribution from 
 members of the Boston Folklore Society and Authors' Club. "Brer 
 Rabbit," drawn by A. B. Frost. Mr. Harris's friend and illustrator, 
 is a recent gift from the artist, made through Miss Katharine Woot- 
 ten. New evidences of interest reach us daily, and we hope to 
 ])resentl.y swell -the pages of our little book with fresh records of 
 the many beautiful things done for the Harris Memorial by those 
 who love Uncle Remus the wide world over. Also, we hope to keep 
 their names on honor roll record at the Wren's Nest; thus will his 
 memorial be their memorial too. 
 
 The grounds are to be equipped as playgrounds for children 
 and as a resort for the innocent recreation and happiness of youth 
 in general. The Association plans to add "Snap-Bean Farm" to 
 present holdings, both because they regard it as an essential part of 
 tlie memorial and because of its availability for playground pur- 
 poses. Its jjurchase will require $5,000. Readers of this booklet 
 will bear this fact, we trust, in sympathetic remembrance. As yet 
 there is no fund to sustain the memorial. Every purchase of this 
 booklet will be a contribution to it. So will purchase of our post- 
 cards and other souvenirs. We will welcome cooperation of any 
 kind from all who loved Uncle Remus and who would like to share, 
 in even the most modest degree, in our work. The preservation of a 
 great man's home, where he made wife and children hajjpy for nearly 
 thirty years, is an object lesson in the moralities and of very whole- 
 some significance in many ways. It is a monument not to genius 
 onh' but to the domestic virtues, a guarantee of the world's respect 
 for faithful married love and the hearthstones of the world. 
 
ICnch ^emus Mlemorial Association 
 
 Xbi)e. Wren's 5lcst. 214 (SorCioii Street. T2\.tlanta. <ba. 
 
 President Mrs. Artluir McDermolt Wiisun 
 
 First Yit-e-President Mrs. E. L. Connally 
 
 Second Vice-President Mrs. Ilobert J. Lowry 
 
 Uecordin(2^ Secretary M rs. H. G. Hastings 
 
 Treasurer Mrs. Tliomas T. Stevens 
 
 Auditor Mrs. F. P. Heil'ner 
 
 Corresponding Secretary Mrs. Fred Stewart 
 
 HONORARY VICE-PRESIDENTS 
 
 Pi-esideiU WiM.diow \\'ilson ICx-l 'resident Tlieodoie liousevelt 
 
 i'ix-Presulent William II. Tatt 
 Andrew Carnegie Clarlv Howell Hoke Smith 
 
 Henry Watterson W. R. Hearst A. O. Bacon 
 
 H. H. KiiliLsaat .Tames U. Gra\ Walter H. Page 
 
 PUBLICITY COMMITTEE 
 
 Associate Chairmen. 
 Myrta I.ocVcelt Avary Lollie Bell Wylie 
 
 Iiorolliy l)ix Isma Dooly Mabel Drake 
 
 Lililiie Mori-ow Mrs. Milton R. Anderson Mrs. Thaddeiis E. Hcirton 
 
 .Mrs. William King i.i/.zie O. Tlionias Orline Arnold Shipman 
 
 Mrs. Paul 10. Wilkes .Mrs. Frank L. Woodruff Mrs. T.yman .1. Amsden 
 
 Honorary Members, 
 
 .leannetle (Jilder Cori'a Harris Xurma Hright Carson 
 
 SOUVENIR COMMITTEE 
 Susan McClellau, Cliairmau 
 
 Mrs. Roger N. Burntiam Ijouise Dooly Frances I.^enj. Johnston 
 
 Estelle Garrett Baker Isabel Thomas .Josephine Earnest Purse 
 
 Mrs. Henrv N. BuUington .Mrs. Brevard Jlontgomery Mary Carter Winter 
 
 .Mrs. S. H. .\dams Mrs. H. H. Fudge 
 
 Honorary Members 
 
 Iv.v J>. ].,ee .\. P.. Frost Roger Nol)le I-Iurnham 
 
 LIBRARY COMMITTEE 
 Mrs. Howard 1.. Crumle.v, Chairnian .Miss Katharine \\'oiitten, \'ice-Cliairnian 
 
 GROUNDS COMMITTEE 
 ^Irs. li. T, Cttnnally. Cliaiiinaii .\lts .1. .\l, .\Iail<le\. .Ir. \'ire-t.'liaiiinan 
 
 HOUSE COMMITTEE. 
 
 Mrs. .\. R. (^'olcord. Chairman .Mrs. .Tohn F. Purser, ^'ice-Chairnlan 
 
 jNIrs. .Tolin R. I^lowden, liesident Hostess 
 
 ADVISORY COMMITTEE— Ladies 
 
 Mrs. .lolui Marsliall Slaton, Cliairman Mrs. Charles .J. Haden, \'ice-Chairinan 
 
 Mrs. .los. JI. Brown .Mrs. Sam D. .Tones Mrs. W. P. Pattillo 
 
 Mrs. Edward T. Brown Airs. Victor Kriegshaber Mrs. Arthur Powell 
 
 Mrs. Warren A. Candler Mrs. Jno. E. Murphy Mrs Luther Z. I'^osser 
 
 Mrs. W. .\. Crowe Mrs. St. Elmo Massengale Mrs. I-Iugh Ricliardson 
 
 Mrs. W. A. Foster. Mrs. .1. N. McEachern Mrs. Andrew Stewart 
 
 Mrs. .Ino. W. Grant Mrs. Augustus .McHan Mrs. Hoke Smith 
 
 Mrs. W. I). Grant Miss .Jessie Muse Mrs. George Winsliip 
 
 Mrs. J. C Greenfield Mrs. Frederic .1. Paxon Mrs. ^\^ Woods AA'liite 
 
 ADVISORY COMMITTEE— Gentlemen 
 
 Frederic .J. Paxon, Cliairman .Inhii M. Slaton, Vice-Chairman 
 
 jr. 1-. Brittain Dunljar H. Ogden 
 
 Asa G. Candler Rol)t. .T. Ij0\vr>' William Ij. Peel 
 
 Daniel Carey Vl. F. Maddox Geo. S. Rapier 
 
 John J. Eagan St. Elmo Massengale H. E, StocklnMdge 
 
 .lohn Temple Graves Wilmer L. Moore W. M. Slaton 
 
 Frank Hawkins Brooks Morgan A. P. Stewart 
 
 I'Mwin F. .Johnson Jno. E. Murphy A. McD Wilson 
 
 Henr.v S. Jolinson George Muse John E Wliite 
 
 Victor Kriegsliaber W. W. Orr C. B. Wilmer 
 
 37 
 
Afterword 
 
 This iiiniuirial booklet is a lalicir of liivt- throuji'lioiit. All uiiu 
 bnvv taken part in its making kziew and loved L'ncle Renuis. 'I'Ih- 
 author has been inspired by her reverence for his character as a man 
 and a genius; by the charm whicli the home-life at the Wren's Nest 
 had for her while the master was li\ing; and l\v sympathy with the 
 movement led by her dear friend, Mrs. Wilson, for the preservation 
 of the \\'ren's Nest as Mr. Harris's monument. Sinn'lar sentiment 
 inspired her young colleague. Susan McC'lellan. 
 
 It is the most comprehensive biography of Mr. Harris yet ))ub- 
 lished, brief though it is. It has been read and a])proved by his 
 widow; and much of its data was secured direct from her. The 
 collection of Harris jjortraits is the most complete in existence. 
 
 A long list might he made of courtesies extended to it in the mak- 
 ing, showing how com|)(isite a work of good will and loving memory 
 of Uncle Remus it is. .Miss Wootten and .Major Hubner. who con- 
 tribute to it. were Mr. Harris's personal friends and warmly at- 
 tached to hiui. The Ladies' Home , Journal, Book News Monthly, 
 the World's Work, the Outlook, and the Christian Herald, in lend- 
 ing assistance, expressed the interest of friendship in .-inything con- 
 nected with Uncle Remus and his Memorial. Special obligations 
 are felt to these publications, to Ivy Lee's beautiful "Memories of 
 Uncle Remus. " and to Mr. Harris's home papers, the Atlanta ,Iour- 
 nal, the Atlanta Georgian, and the Atlanta Constitution; and to Mr. 
 C. H. Pritchard. fcn-merlv of L'ncle Remus's Magazine. 
 
 .Surely this little ship cannot fail of its mission — when its sails 
 are winged with so many kindnesses and it carries the story of a 
 beautiful life! 
 
 Visitors are. "5jl?elcomc to the "Wren's ^cst 
 
 Visitors from almost every ])art of the world have called since 
 the Wren's Nest was ojicned to the |)ublic only a few months ago. 
 Tourists passing through Atlanta usually pay their respects to the 
 place. Children like to come. Sometimes, aged jMlgrims journey 
 from a distance to bring their little grandchildren to see Lncle 
 Remus's House. As our opportunities ])ermit, we hope to make 
 L'ncle Rennis's House more and more a place of rest and recreation 
 to the "children of .ill ages," as LTncle Remus described the "young 
 in heart." 
 
 38 
 
Jv 
 
 
 / 
 
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AUG 22 1918 LIBRftPY nr . 
 
 IIBImSm "^ CONGRESS 
 
 018 597 462 5