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HER.IT
OF HATE
The Gentle Robert Louis Stevenson,
the Unwitting Cause of the Stc-
venson-Oshourne Heritage ,
of Hate.
CHAPTER I.
iloto It Started.
. lATHER'S a fool."
tri Recorder John Keteltas
Hackett, for nineteen years
the predecessor of Recorder Smyth In
New York, had a bitter tongue. His
daughter, Minnie, was accustomed to
its weight.
She knew ho was not jesting when
he all but shouted "Father's a fool!"
grlnglng his mighty flat down upon
the library table with such that the
window panes rattled In their frames.
"There ought, to bo a law restrain
ing men from making silly spectacles
of themselves nt Mb age. A commis
sion ought to bo named to Inquire
into his sanity. I am sorry he has
lived to bring rldlculo upon his
family."
Miss Minnie Hackett listened and
believed. She always listened to her.
father's words, always believed them.
There, was etched Into her young
brain in letters of fire the words:
"My grandfather Is a fool. His son,
my father, has said so."
Cupid tread a more stately
measure In those days of the
middle sixties. It was neither
.meet nor seemly for old men to
marry young women. If December
mated with May, relatives of Decem
ber cherished thoughts of commitment
to lunatic asylums.
There was no mistake about It
The sedate little newspaper spread
upon tho library table contained the
brief notice:
"James Henry Hackett, the eminent
actor, so identified with the character
of Talstaft that he Is familiarly
known as 'Falstaff Hackett yesterday
wedded the young and beautiful Miss
Clara Cynthia Morgan."
It was tho beginning of a heritage
of hate.
OHAPTER 1 1
"A Son Is Bom."
MISS MINNIE HACKETT eat be
side the fire in the old home
lz Stuyvesant Square awaiting the
callers who might drop In that after
noon for a formal cup of tea, for not
A Serum to Prove Whether Oysters Hurt You
SOME people are born with a taste
for oysters, some acquire it Yet
many persons wha are fond of
oysters are unable to tat them be
cause, when they do, the "break out"
with hives multfple rvh spots and
itching blemishes, wblcl make them
look like leopards and ft el as uncom
fortable as alien on a hoi griddle.
The reason for this Is rtiat some hu
man textures are oversensitive to the
oyster's Juices and resent the insult
of contact with them by Welling up
in big red spots. Hives and similar
evidences of over-sensltlveness to sea
foods in general, and oysters in par
ticular, sometimes prove y serious
that It Is all a physician can do to
keep 'the sufferer from enduing to
death.
Tho symptoms which oysters pro
duce In systems oversensitive totbem
aro exactly the same as those1 pro
duced by a variety of other cahses,
and physicians hitherto have always
I ROM time to time Fate mores
so that fortunes fall Into the
last hands the original owner
would want them to. Sometimes
through ironic turns of events they
go to parsons to prevent whose
ownership the fortune's dead pos
sessor had, in life, spent every
effort. These are called heritages
of hate, and, commonly enough,
their possession docs not often
bring happiness.
Such a heritage of hate is that
which recently turned over night
Into a millionaire James K. Hack
ctt, the matinee idol. Another
heritage of hate is the fortune
founded by the gentle Robert Louis
Stevenson, which for sixty years
has been a curse to the family and
which only a few days ago prompt-,
ed MrB. Robert Louis Stevenson to
cut off her daughter-in-law and to
leave this record of hate for all
to read: . .
"To Katherlne Durham Osbourne,
of incredible ferocity, who lived
on my bounty for many years, at
the Bame time pursuing me with
malicious slander, I leave live dol
lars.' The true reasons for the Hackett
hesitago of hatred has never be
fore been told. Stranger than any
melodrama the star Has ever played
isthe story which follows;
even tea dunking was Informally
done at that time, and especially in
the old square, two-storied mansion
occupied by Recorder Hackett.
The door bell rang. There was a
rustle, of stiff, silks in tho ball. "Miss
Keteltas," tho man announced, and
a woman with gray curls and wearing
lavender silk over mammoth crlno
llnos came In with all the dignity a
tilting hoopskirt permitted. She
kissed her young hostess on tho cheek
and settled herself and the crinoline
besldo tho fire.
Miss Keteltas drank her tea very
hot, ns cavaliers have drunk their
brandy, "for courage." Then setting
down the cup she looked at her young
hostess. v
"Isn't It time to forget, Cousin
Minnie?" she said.
"Time to forget." The young
woman looked very stately and un
approachable in her black silk gown
and her wide rosepolnt lace collar,
despite her face of twenty-two. "I
will not pretend to misunderstand
you, cousin. We oegan forgetting Ave
years ago. We have never ceased to
forget" , , ,
"After all, there is nothing criminal
In sentiment regulated by marriage."
"There Is no dignity in the senile
marriage," responded the young
woman in Icy tones.
Miss Keteltas rose and looked at
the nnaco once filled with the por
trait of the trreat Falstaff. In its
place now hung that of Recorder
Hackott. the features Crm to hard
ness, eyes of steel looking out from
a well-cut face, whose pallor merged
into the black of his Justice's robe.
"The quality of mercy is not
strained,'" the caller quoted, her
eyes on the portrait.
"Why do you plead so persistently
to-day?" demanded the young woman.
"It Is the time whei. mercy is asked
and granted and when love should
rule."
"What do you mean?"
"That a son has been born to your
grandfather."
"Impossible! When? Where?"
"At Wolf Island, in the Thousand
been In doubt as to whether the en
tire blame should be placed on oysters.
Professor II. H. Hazen, head of the
Skin Department of Georgetown Uni
versity, has lately devised a means of
definitely settling this qubJtion. One
of his patients, a trained nurse In
Washington, ate a few raw oyster,
and within two or three hours she
was suffering trom a violent "break
ing out" of giant hives. A week later
ihe ate some fried oysters. The meal
was quickly followed by a similar
eruption, accompanied by a high fever
and severe nose bleed.
To decide whether oysters were the
cause of all her trouble, Professor
Hazen determined upon a radical ex
periment. He would make a vaccine
from oysters and inject some of It un
der the patient's skin.
Freshly shucked oysters were first
sterilized for an hour, ground up and
made into a fine emulsion. Five drops
of this oyster vaccine were injectcl
F
Sunday Bee Magazine Page
lZL " ' '
mwm .mm mm imP
James K. Hackett and His Present
Wife, Who Was Alice Mary
Beckley, His Leading Woman.
She Will Enjoy the Hate-Laden
Fortune Mary Mannering- Has
Missed.
Islands. Last week. A letter tells
mo of it. Will you read it?"
"Thank you, no. And so my grand
father has crowned his folly. At
sixty-nine he Is again a parent And
his child ds not even born on Ameri
canoll. CHAPTER III,
The Heritage Shows Its Head.
IT was tho opening night of "The
Princess and tho Butterfly." The
smartest society of New York crowd
ed its favorite playhouse, tho old
Lyceum.
James Keteltas Hackett was the
most popular leading man In New
York. He was the greatest matinee
d0i in the United States. His hand
some face, his manly height his well
built figure, his suavity crowned blm
with the gift of popularity.
While he "took the curtain alone"
after his best scene in "The Princess
nnd the Butterfly" the lovely young
leading woman that season Imported
from England to play opposite him
waited In the wings to congratulate
him.
"This Is a great night for you, Mr.
Hackett," she said. "There seems
nothing needed to complete your life."
James K. Hackett bowed over the
hand of the lovely importation, Miss
Mary Mannering.
"Complete? No, it lacks two ele-
into the patients' skin.
Within three hours after the inocu
lation the nurse was suffering In tho
same way she had after eating oys
tersher body covered with hlveB,
high fever and noso bleed. This was
accepted as conclusive that the oys
ters were guilty as suspected.
Professor Henry Lee Smith, of
Johns Hopkins University, has applied
the same nuthod to another similar
problem. He made a vaccine from
buckwheat and inoculated patients
with it If the inoculation was fal
lowed by nausea and skin troubles it
established the fact that those persons
were over-sensitive to buckwheat and
would better avoid tho delectable grid
dle cakes.
The new oyster und buckwheat vac
cine will be used just as the Washer
man and typhoid blood tests are, to
verify the diagnosis of the maladled
which result from eating buckwheat
and oysters.
CanvrLxht 1UUL,
James K. Hackett as Ho Was, tho Only
Time His Father's Grandchild, Who
Hated Him So. Saw Him.
ments to make it truly successful."
"Indeed! What?" You would have
fancied tho lovely leading woman
could not possibly guess, by the way
she lifted her Innocent eyes to his.
"I should like to see every mem
ber of my family, even though remore,
occupying Beats In this house. But
though I have a score of them, my
mother sits alone there in n box."
"But she Is very proud of you nnd
Jealous of your reputation."
"Too proud. Too Jealous," ho said.
On tho way to her hotel that eve
ning the actor finished his story of
his Hfo's incompleteness to the actress.
What that was will be revealed in the
next chapter.
CHAPTER IV.
" note Your Wife."
EIGHT months after the night of
confidence James K. Hackett sat
talking in their home with his
mother. He held ner hand. Her face
softened.
"I am very proud of you, son," she
said. "And fond. It Is not often
that a heart holds both these feelings
and In the same degree. You are
dearer to me than other sons to
their mothers, because other mothers
usually have more than one son.
"We have suffered together. We
endured great poverty together. When
you were but two years old and your
father died, at the age of seventy-one,
wo were left In a wreckage of for
tunes. Some one suggested that I
go upon the stage. Though I had
never been nearer than the wings, it
was thought your father's namo
would help me. Well, I tried. I
played Ludy Macbeth as well as I
could. It was in a Brooklyn theatre.
When I came home you had been al
lowed to sit up to wait for me. You
were sitting, a dear baby, by tho fire,
with your nurse. You looked up and
said: 'How did It go, mammy?' I
liv Uu -l.ir fntnrotiy-. Grant Britain
Mary Mannering, the First Wife of Actor Hackett. Her Mother-in-Law'a Hate for Her Resulted
in the Separation and Subsequent Divorce of the Two. 1
said: 'That will have to
bo decided by tho pa
pers to-morrow.' They
decided against me, my
son. I played for only
a few nights.
"Wo struggled on to
gether in poverty, try
ing to pelce together
tho poor fragments of a
fortune. You decided
to go upon the stage, because thero
you could make money faster. Well,
dear, you've made it. And you'ro
paying off the debts on the old prop
erty. We can have peace and com
fort for tho rest of my days. We will
show your father's family that wo
can get on without them: yes, and
that we will honor their name. You
will stay with mother as long as she
lives, won't you?" she added anxious
ly. "You will never leave her for
another? I don't want you to marry
while I live."
Young Hackett's face snddened,
then settled Into firm family lines.
"I must tell you, mother dear, that
I am married, I was married eight
months ago. We have kept our mar
rlago secret, because I wanted you to
huvu time to know and love my
wife."
Tho woman's face looked like a
mask of tragedy.
"Not Mary Mannering?" she said
chokingly.
"Yes."
"My son, I hate her."
CHAPTER V.
"Unto tho Second Generation."
THE young pair of Hacketts took
up their abode in a rebuilt homo
on East Thirty-third street that had
once belonged to "Falstaff" Hackett
Magazines described it under the
title "Tho houso whero happiness
reigns." Mary Mannering Hackett
said to her husband: lie is the one
man in a million worlds."
A little daughter was born to them.
They named her Elsie. She is eight
years old now, with the strong beauty
of her father's, face nnd figure, the
soft loveliness of her mother's graco
nnd speech. "Brownie" Is tho nick
name the parents gave her.
No lovo match ever started better
than theirs. None endured so per
fectly for a time.
And then no one quite knows how
lUslita Iiuorvftd
1 1 '
HOW 'two wives lost the fortune.
1 The Older Hackett Parts from His Distinguished Son for Takine a Youn
Wife. 2 The Young Widow and Her Child, the Future Matinee Idol, Are Cut by
tho nclrcss Daughter of the Old Brother. 3 Tho Mother Sees Her Hated Boy
Become a Great Actor. 4 Sho Shows Her Dislike to Her Son's First Wife, Maryj
Manncring, Just ns Her Husband's Brother Did Toward Herself. 6 -The Heiress,
Dying, Tries Unsuccessfully to Make a' New Will. 6 The Second Wife of Actor
Hackett Will Enjoy the Fortune First Wife and Mother Missed.
Story of the Deadly
Which Made
Millionaire Over Night
the Hero of His Most
ossible Melodrama.
it began. Tho 'elder Mrs. Hackett
lived with them. She told her friends
her daughter-in-law was charming to
bo sure, but a little temperamental, a
bit difficult.
The younger Mrs. Hackett told her
friends It was without douht true, the
Chinese proverb, that no roof was
strong enough to shelter two women,
tho young husband' adjudicated as
impersonally ns ever did his older
brother on the bench.
A wife's placo was by her hus
band's side, of course. The cider
Mrs. Hackett took rooms directly
across the street from the playhouso
her son had leased and which hail
been named the Hackett Theatre.
Every night the gaunt figure, dressed
in black, wearing its widow's bonnet
appeared nt tho entrance, nodded to
the doorkeeper, and took a seat In
tho rear of tho thcatro nnd watched
tho performance. To sonio ono who
had stoppedbeslde her for greeting
oho would nod at tho matinee idol's
tall form as It walked upon or left
the stage. Her eyes would glisten
with pride.
"That's my son," she would whisper.
She was living thus when Illness
overtook her nnd she died. But she
did not dlo 'beforo she saw approach
ing the fulfilment of her wish. There
was a breach, small, but perceptible,
"between the younger Hackotts.
Miss Mannering had become a star
on her own account, and 'was touring
In a separate company. He had
for leading woman a beautiful eng
iish actress, Miss Alice Mary
Beckley, His acquaintance with her,
it was said, widened the breach. Miss
Mannering sued for divorce. She se
cured It. Tho court decided that
Elsie, or "Brownie," Hackett should
divide her tlrao between her parents.
Shortly afterward Mr. Hackett mar
ried Miss Beckley.
CHAPTER VI. -
Jlate on the Death Bed.
AT the old homestead nt No. T2
Madison avenue Minnie Hackett
Trowbridge was dying.
When all was quiot, and the sheet
had boon4rawn over the still face of
Recorder Hackott's daughter, search
was made for ber will. Ono was
found, that left all but a few minor
bequests to her husband, William Em
Matinee Idol
ory Trowbridge, whom she had mar
ried late In lite for both of them.
Sho had married at sixty-four and
her brldcgroom'B age was the same
as that at which her grandfather, had
made his second marriage. But ber
husband died threo years ago. She
had made no provision for the estate
in that event. Shortly after his death
sho was declared Incompetent to
manage her own affairs and a guard
ian was appointed. She could make
no other will.
James Keteltas Hackett, who had
called once a year to pay his re
spects to her but who was novef
admitted to her prosence, this1 de
spised one, was her next to kin.
and will Inherit ono and a halt mil
lion dollars, the major part of her
fortune
Too effectually had she forgotten
him when that will was drawn.
The heritage of hate had converted
the matinee idol Into a multimillion
aire. CHAPTER LAST.
The Uctpteimcst of Hate.
AT tho funeral of tho woman who
would not forgive a woman who
followed the aged body to tho grave
Raid to others In the slow-moving
black carriage that followed the
flower-laden hearse:
"Poor Mlnniel There were days
when she had lucid Intervals and saw
things not as they were In her his
torted dreams, but as they really are.
In those flashes of sanity her suffer
ings were horrlblo. She used to weep
and wring her hands and beat her
head ngalnst the pillow,
"Ho will get it,' she said. 'In
spite of all I can do in spite even of
my marriage, and I married him to
keep him out of that money. He will
get my father's fortune. Father will
bo In agony, wherever ho is, because
of it. I am helpless."
The thought would send ber shriek
ing into one of her most dreadful
fits of insanity. The last of thess
lucid intervals occurred two weeks)
before her death. She screamed:
"I hato html I hate bm, and I
can do nothing."
The epitaph of her hate was the
word she herself had epoken helplessness.
