xt7qjq0stw34_4226 https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7qjq0stw34/data/mets.xml https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7qjq0stw34/data/1997ms474.dao.xml unknown archival material 1997ms474 English University of Kentucky The physical rights to the materials in this collection are held by the University of Kentucky Special Collections Research Center.  Contact the Special Collections Research Center for information regarding rights and use of this collection. W. Hugh Peal manuscript collection Jesse Lynch Williams typescript, Laurence Hutton: A Personal Tribute text 43.94 Cubic Feet 86 boxes, 4 oversize boxes, 22 items Poor-Good Peal accession no. 11453. Jesse Lynch Williams typescript, Laurence Hutton: A Personal Tribute 2017 https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7qjq0stw34/data/1997ms474/Box_41/Folder_73/Multipage14386.pdf undated section false xt7qjq0stw34_4226 xt7qjq0stw34 LAURENCE HUTTON.

Laurence Hutton, though he wrote, especially on certain
subjects, with unusual charm and could tell a story as few men can, had
not so much genius for authorship as he had for making and keeping
friends, a higher and happier possession. He was one of those rare
souls whom to know is to love and to know better is to love more.
Few men have had a greater number of real friends. Probably no
one alive to-day has as many among American and English creators
of things beautiful. There was hardly a well known artist, in words,
color or sound, of the late Victorian period, whom Mr. Hutton did
not know quite intimately. His unaffected pride in these friend-
ships and the tokens of them, which made his house a treasure-trove
for literary hero-worshippers and the like, only made one love him
the more; it was so different from the tuft-hunter’s attitude.
“ Look at this,” he would say, “Edwin [Booth] gave it to me shortly
before he died. Wasn’t it kind of him P I wouldn’t part with it for
the world. And you must see this; John Fiske handed me this one
day when he was at my old house in 34th street. He always stayed
with us. I don’t see why they were so good to me,” he would add,
shaking his head with a look on his face that helped somehow to
show why.

Mr. Hutton—though no one who enjoyed his hearty friendship
can think of him as “Mr. Hutton ” came to Princeton about ten
years ago, spent a season at the Inn, lost his heart to Princeton and
decided to establish a home there to end his days in. The fame of
Mr. and Mrs. Hutton’s hospitality, like that of their wonderful
library at Peep 0’ Day, is spread around the world. A few years ago
he was appointed Lecturer in English in the University. His series
of papers, which he read in public, were one of the treats of the
college year, a refreshing relief from the ordinary academic note. For
him, though delightfully humorous about his awe at himself a don
who had never been an undergrad, it made another tie binding him
closer to his adopted Alma Mater—which chiefly signified to him, as
indeed it does to many of us, a clusterof enduring friends in endear—
ing surroundings. His love for Princeton became a passion.
Towards the end of his life he was happy nowhere else. In a letter
written last winter reporting an unfortunate sojourn abroad, he
said, “Hereafter my address will be Peep 0’ Day, Princeton, and so
its going to keep on being—until it is Princeton Cemetery.” That
happens to be the concluding sentence of the last of a few letters
addressed to the present writer, who has never had the good fortune
to see him again. The loss to those who knew him better and saw
him oftener must be hard indeed.

Some of the personal memborailia he left behind are said to be
priceless to collectors. More so to all of us is the memory of this
loving and beloved friend. JESSE LYNCH WILLIAMS.