That a man should, with the aid of a good woman, raise himself from the
depths of brutish degradation to an honest manhood and regard for things
pure and holy is a fine thing.
That a man should reach the age of thirty without being able to read and
write, and then, within a few years, with the aid of this woman and
through his own indomitable will and energy, gain such mastery over the
art of writing as to be able to tell such a story as is here presented,
is so strange, so unprecedented as to warrant unbelief.
Owen Kildare is a real man and that is his real name. He is widely
known on the Bowery, where he lives. The writer of this knew him when
he was a bartender in Steve Brodie's saloon and when he was a "bouncer"
in the frightful dive to which he refers.
His article is printed as it was written, with no more editing than the
"copy" of the average trained writer would receive, and it has a power
that is rare in these days. Glance at this epitome of his life, and
wonder.
1864--Born in Catharine street. Orphaned in his infancy and adopted by
a childless couple.
1870--Became a newsboy in the gang of which Timothy D. Sullivan was the
leader, and fended for himself.
1880--A "beer slinger" in a tough Bowery dive and a pugilist. His
fighting capacity and brutishness made him a bouncer in one of the most
infamous resorts New York has ever known.
1894--Met the little school teacher through protecting her from insult,
who taught him to read and write and who made a man of him. Gave up
working in dives, where he made sixty dollars a week, more or less
dishonestly, to work for eight dollars a week.
1900--Death of the little school teacher one month before they were to
be married.
1902--From a newsboy, selling the Daily News, he became a writer for
this newspaper.
In no profession are the changes as frequent as in journalism, and not
long after the appearance of my story, I became a writer on the staff of
the Evening World. While there I "ran" a series of sketches on the
editorial page of the paper. They were written in language closely
resembling the real idiom of the Bowery. I called the series "The
Bowery Girl Sketches," and their indorsement by the readers was
exceedingly flattering.
My experiment in Bowery language attracted the attention of William
Guard, editor of The Sunday Telegraph, who made me a very favorable
proposition. My stories in that paper were written in Bowery "slang,"
which is not slang at all, but merely the primitive way of expression my
fellows use. The stories were signed by "The Bowery Kipling," a
sobriquet which my old and good friend, John J. Jennings, of the Evening
World, had given me. At no time during my work for the Telegraph had
the "other" Kipling occasion to sue me for libel or infringement.
This newspaper experience has been of great value to me, but it is not
the career I would care to pursue for the rest of my life. In it reward
is too often the consequence of accident, instead of being the logical
sequel of merit and striving. The constant physical and mental strain
affords many excuses for stimulants, and absolutely temperate newspaper
men are among the rarities. As said before, the changes are many in
editorial offices, and at every shifting of editors, the staffs are also
included and obliged to decamp. There seems to be no stability as far
as permanent employment is concerned, unless a contract is signed. But
contracts are only signed with the stars of journalism and the "small
fry" is always in fear and trembling about their jobs. Still,
personally, throughout my short stay in newspaperdom, I have had many
kindnesses and courtesies extended to me, and the schooling was
appreciated and digested by me.
In January, 1903, I was asked by the Success Magazine to write my story
for that publication. While preparing the story I had the pleasure of
making the acquaintance of Hall Caine, the distinguished novelist from
the Isle of Man. He has often been made the subject of much criticism,
but, this being a story of facts and not a critical essay, I can only
say that Hall Caine is a man worth knowing, and I value very highly the
letter he sent me after reading the story for Success in manuscript.