Daily Tobacco Leaf Chronicle

How Dramatist Ibsen Lives.

Ibsen, the Norwegian dramatist, does not live at Gossensass, on the Brenner, as Boston would fain have the world believe. He spends his summers there, but his winter home is Munich, and a Munich correspondent says that he takes his breakfast daily at the Cafe Maximilian, and studies the journals through the meal. So orderly are his habits that he can neither feed nor read if he finds any stranger occupying his customary corner. The great dramaturgist's rights as a 'stammgast' of the house are recognized by the oberkellner, who generally contrives to keep Ibsen's seat and table vacant until he appears. If he chances to be late, he looks in at the door to see whether his place is free. When any intruder has taken possession of it, the poet marches up and down in front of the cafe, pausing every now and then to peep through the window, and gesticulating fiercely at the innocent invader. Anybody who has seen Ibsen or even a good photograph of the man can imagine the grim ferocity which he can impart to his countenance. This piece of stage play is nearly always successful. The intruder asks the waiter who the remarkable old gentleman is, and why he patrols before the cafe and keeps looking in. 'That is the poet Ibsen,' is the usual reply; 'he is accustomed to sit here, and is waiting until the place is vacant.' This explanation, upon which Ibsen reckons, almost invariably ends in a courteous and respectful movement of the innocent usurper to some other seat.-Exchange.