

THE SATURDAY 
EVENING POST 


An Illustrated Weekly Magazine 
Founded A’ D' 1728 S4y Benj.Franklin 


Volume 172, No. 8 


Copyright, 1800, by Tue Ovaries Pumssmine Company 


PhiladeIphia, August 19, 1899 


PUBLIGHED WEEKLY AT 426 ARCH STREET 


PAPER, N? 1 
Famous Orators | Have Known 


By 
Major J.B.P D 


, 


and Wendell Phillips. Other men for a season, and sometimes for a 
few years, were as popular as any of them, but theirs was a calcium- 


T's great triumvirate of lecture kings consisted of Gough, Beecher 


light popularity, whereas the popularity of the ‘‘ Big Three’’ endured for 


their entire lives. 

Now that Phillips and Garrison and the era in which they flourished 
have passed into history, it is common for writers who treat on that period 
to talk of these two champions of freedom as if they were equals, or of 
Phillips, even, as if he were Garrison’s inferior 

Those who knew both men smile at such absurdities. 

Phillips and Garrison were equals in one respect only—in moral courage 
and unselfish devotion to the slave. Garrison was a commonplace man in 
respect to intellectual ability, whereas Phillips was a man of genius of 
the rarest culture. Garrison was a strong platform speaker. Phillips was 
one of the greatest orators of the century. Only three men of his time 
could contest the palm of eloquence with him: Webster, Clay and Beecher 


g 
HOW WENDELL PHILLIPS MASTERED THE MOB 


Phillips was a terrible radical, with a polish about his performance that 
took away from it, for the average outdoor audience, the effect of the 
deadly earnestness with which his reputation was associated. Mr. Phillips 
spoke as quietly as though talking in his own parlor, and almost entirely 
without gesture, though he had a greater power over all kinds of audiences 
than any man we have ever known. Often called before a howling mob 
who went to the halls to shout and sing and prevent his being heard, 
he never failed to subdue them in a short time. These were instances 
when such men as Garrison and Parker were as powerless as children 

A mob had congregated in Faneuil Hall determined that he should not 
be heard. There was a crowd of reporters in front. Mr. Phillips bent 
down and was seen talking to these reporters. Very soon the mob became 
quiet, and stopped to listen to what he was saying to the reporters 
Phillips looked up at them quietly and said: ‘‘ Go on, gentlemen, go on; I 
do not need your ears. With these pencils I am addressing fifty mil 
lions of people.’’ That mob had found its master 

There never was a more benevolent face than William Lloyd Garrison's 
He had a kindly eye, a winning smile, a gentleness of way, a crisp 
straightforward way of taiking, and a merciless movement in straight 
lines of thought 

Mr. Garrison visited England after the war was over and the emancipa 
tion of the slaves was accomplished, and received unusual courtesies. At 
a dinner given him by the British Anti-Slavery Society he was presented 
with a gold watch. As he took it in his hand he said: 

‘Well, gentlemen, if this had been a rotten egg I should have known 
what to do with it, but as it is a gold watch, I have nothing to say.’’ 


4 
THE GREATNESS OF HENRY WARD BEECHER 


John Bright told me that Henry Ward Beecher was the greatest orator 
who spoke the English tongue. When Beecher came to Piymouth Church, 
in 1844, he was thirty-four years of age, strong and rugged in health, uncon 
ventional in manners, but never ungentlemanly His free, brusque address 
and direct approach was different from more polished clergymen, and 
everything he said and did was made the subject of remark. I suppose 
no man ever lived more directly under the public gaze than did Mr 
Beecher for forty years; his life was seen and read by all men—his public 
life—but few have known of his domestic gentleness and invariable sweet 
ness of nature 

He was the centre of loving hearts. Strong and powerful as he knew 
he was, to those he loved he was as gentle as a mother. As to enmities, 
he had none, and he hardly knew he had enemies He was the most joy 
ous, radiantly happy man that was ever known 

I remember one day I had seen him walking arm in arm with a man 
who had injured him, who had been abusing him. I said to Mr. Beecher 
**T think you are carrying the doctrine of Christian love too far.’’ 

He said: * Pond, can we go further than to bless those who curse us, 
and pray for those who despitefully use us? Ah, there is so little known 
of the spirit of Christ in the world that when a man is trying feebly and 
afar off to follow Him, even Christians do not understand it.’’ 

No answer could be made to such reasoning as this 

His friends knew and learned from him what was meant by being a 
Christian. His theory was that as the son of God and in unison with his 


113 


5 Cents the Copy; $2.50 the Year 


_» & 


Entered at the Philadelphia Post-Office as Second Class Matter 


114 


Father he had a right to happiness, and this right he would 
allow no man or set of men to take from him. 

He had the power of abstraction, by which he could put 
away all thoughts of care and trouble, and rise to a higher 
atmosphere where the heavens were blue and unclouded, 
while his eyes and ears seemed closed to all lower considera 
tions. To those nearest to him at these times he was a 
perfect wonder 

a» 


CROSSING THE CONTINENT WITH MR. BEECHER 

He was my nearest and dearest friend for thirteen years 
Excepting only Arizona, New Mexico and Alaska, there was 
not a State or Territory in the Union in which we did not travel 
together. In sunshine and in storm; by night and by day; 
by every conceivable mode, on steamboats and rowboats, by 
stage and on the backs of mules, I journeyed at his side. I 
was near him in the days of 1875-6~7, the time of his deepest 
sorrow. I have seen him reviled and spat upon. I saw the 
majestic courage with which he passed through gaping crowds 
at railroad stations and at the entrance of hotels and public 
halls—a courage which I had not conceived mere humanity 
could possess. I have looked upon him when I felt I would 
give my poor life a thousand times, could that sacrifice allevi 
ate the mental sufferings that I knew he was undergoing 
There were times when it seemed as though he must give way 
times when I was the only friend within his reach, and he 
sought refuge near and with me, It was thus that he came 
to love and trust me, and that my love and veneration for 
him became so strong 

Eepecially during those three darkest years was he the 
subject of my sad admiration. Often have I seen him, on 
our entering a strange town, hooted at by a swarming crowd, 
and greeted with indecent salutations. On such occasions he 
would paso on, seemingly unmoved, to his hotel, and remain 
there until the hour for his public appearance. Then, con- 
fronted by great throngs, he would lift up his voice, always 
for humanity and godliness. When he had spoken, the 
assemblages would linger to draw near and greet the man 
whom they had so lately despised, How changed I have 
often seen the public attitude toward him when he left a town 
into which he had come but the day before! Thus he went 
from city to city, making friends and advocates of all who 
heard or met him 

® 


THE RULE OF GOOD COPPER, GOUD LECTURES 

Henry Ward Beecher never ate before speaking. Not even 
at home on Sunday did he take breakfast. He was a great 
coflee-drinker, and always required one or two cups of good 
coffee instead of his meal before the lecture or sermon. He 
gave me to understand when we first started out together that 
if we were to have good lectures we must have good coffee. 
So I found it very often necessary to impress upon the host at 
our hotel that Mr. Beecher's success depended upon the hotel 
keeper as much as on the lecture. It was very seldom we 
failed to have good coffee, except when in some frontier city 
in the far West and through the South, 

Once, in Topeka, Kansas, where lived two old negro serv- 
ants who had been partially brought up by. Mr. and Mrs. 
Beecher in Indianapolis, the hotel coffee was wretched, and 
Mr. Beecher had predicted ‘‘a failure to-night."’ About six 
o'clock the man-servant came to Mr, Beecher’s door with a 
pitcherful of smoking-hot coffee, which his wife, Letitia, 
had made and sent to him. 

‘'Mr, Beecher,’’ said the negro, whose name was Jim, 
‘ Letitia knowed ye must have some good coffee if you're to 
have a good lecture to-night, and she done made some, and I 
fotched it to ye." 

** Oh, Jim,”’ said Mr, Beecher, ‘‘ tell Letitia she has helped 
me out! She knows just how to have a good lecture.'’ And 
it was a good lecture. 

a 


GOUGH, THE KING OF THE LECTURE WORLD 


John B, Gough deserves the title of King of the Lecture 
World, if popularity be made the sole test, and only Mr. 
Beecher and Wendell Phillips had any claim to contest the 
title with him, if eloquence—the power to hold and charm 
auciences—be made the test, 

Mr. Gough was a more popular lecturer for a longer term 
of years than any other favorite of the lyceums, He was a 
born orator, with great dramatic power, Men of greater 
culture but less natural ability used to be fond of attributing 
his success to the supposed fact that he was the ‘* Evangelical 
Comedian,’’ that the unco good, whose religious prejudices 
would not suffer them to go to the theatre, found a substitute 
in listening to the comic stories and the dramatic delivery 
of Gough, » 

This theory does not suffice to explain the universal and 
long-continued popularity of this great orator. He never 
faced an audience that he did not capture and captivate; and 
not in the United States only, not in the North only, where 
his popularity never wavered, but in the South, where 
Yankees were not in favor, and in the Canadian Provinces, 
where they were disliked, and in every part of England, 
Scotland and Ireland as well. He was at his best before an 
educated audience in an evangelical community, But when 
he addressed a ‘‘minion'’ audience in North Street—the 
Five- Points region of Boston——he charmed the gamin and the 
poorest classes who gathered there as much as he charmed 
the cultivated assemblages in Music Hall, Boston, then 
admitted to be the finest audiences that Boston and its 
suburbs could turn out. 

® 


THE STAGE-FRIGHTS OF A GREAT ORATOR 


Mr, Gough never asked a fee in his life. He left his 
remuneration to the public who employed him. It rose year 
afer year, beginning with less than a dollar at times, until, 
when the bureau did his business for him, it reached from 
$200, the lowest fee, to $500 a night. In the last years of his 
life his income exceeded $30,000, He did more to promote 
the temperance cause than any man who ever lived, It is 
strange, but it is a fact, that although Gough never broke 
down in his life as an orator, and never failed to capture his 
audience, yet he always had a mild sort of stage-fright, which 
never went off until he began to speak. 

To get time to master this fright was the reason why he 
always insisted on being “ introduced’’ to his audiences 
before he spoke, and he so insisted even in places where the 
absurd custom had been abandoned for years. When the 
Chairman was introducing him, Mr, Gough was ‘‘ bracing up’’ 
to overcome his stage-fright. And let me say 
right here that the phrase ‘ bracing up'' has 


Editor's Note—This is the first of a series of four 
papers b Majer Pond on The Eccentricities of 
i h ining papers will appear at in- 


er 
tervals of a fortnight. 


THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


two meanings; that the slanderous statements often started 
against Mr. Gough, that he sometimes took a drink in secret, 
were wholly and wickedly untrue. In his autobiography Mr 
Gough has told the true story of his fall, his conversion, and 
his one relapse, and he has told it truthfully. He was abso 
lutely and always, after his first relapse, a total-abstinence 
man in creed and life. There never lived a truer man 

For forty years he held the reputation as first in the land 
as an orator and champion of temperance. He probably 
delivered more lectures than any man who has lived in the 
present age. -From a carefully kept record we find that 
from 1t/ +> to 1852 he lectured on an average of 300 times a 
year, making 3000 lectures. From 1862 to 1870 he averaged 
260 times a year, or 2080 lectures on temperance. Of these, 
1160 were delivered in Great Britain. After 1870 Mr. Gough 
lectured on miscellaneous subjects, Each year he prepared 
anew lecture. From 1861 to the time of his death, February 
11, 1886, he delivered 4526 lectures, making in all g600 
addresses before 9,000,000 hearers 

John B. Gough was among the heroes of the nineteenth 
century. The incalculable good he did to his fellowmen 
can never be known. It is no idle statement when we say 
that he was the direct means, under God, of raising tens of 
thousands from degradation to be law-abiding men and 
women. It was my privilege, in 1879, to see in Mr. Gough's 
library four large books containing the names of over 140,000 
men, women and children who, by his own personal efforts, 
had been induced to sign the pledge. 


a 
GOUGH GROOMED LIKE A RACEHORSE 

It was the habit of John B, Gough, for forty years, to carry 
two overcoats on his lecture tours. After his lectures he put 
both of them on—the first, a light one, which he buttoned up 
tight, and the second, a very heavy one, a sort of combina 
tion of heavy ulster and the regulation overcoat. 

His two-hour lecture was an unbroken succession of con 
tortions and antics that left him dripping in perspiration. It 
required all this covering to protect his body from the air 
before he changed his wet clothing for dry. 

On his return to his hotel, Mrs. Gough was always in 
waiting with fresh clothing. A valet at once set to work 
rubbing him down, exactly as is the custom of grooming a 
racehorse at the end of the heat, After this process he 
appeared apparently as fresh as ever. He would eat a bow! 
of bread and milk, and always wanted an old-fashioned bow!. 

Mrs. Gough was his constant companion, but did not 
attend the lectures. During the last twelve years of their 
travel together she did not hear him once. 


a 
HOW SUMNER LOST AN ADMIRER 

Charles Sumner was an aristocrat. He was my father’s 
ideal. After I had got back from Kansas and visited my 
father’s home in Wisconsin, father said to me: ‘‘ James, the 
Honorable Charles Sumner is going to speak at R——. We 
must hear him.’’ 

So we arranged to go. We walked nine miles to hear him 
speak, My father never spoke of him without giving him 
his title. He had enjoyed that speech intensely. I do not 
know whether I did or not. Father sat near, with the inten- 
tion of rushing up to the platform and greeting him by the 
hand when he was finished, but the Honorable Charles was 
too quick for him. He disappeared, got to his hotel, and 
nobody saw him. 

Father said: ‘‘ James, the Honorable Charles Sumner is 
going to Milwaukee to-morrow morning and we can ride 
with him a part of the way.”’ 

We were on the train early the next morning, and so was 
the Honorable Charles Sumner. He was sitting reading in 
the drawing-room car. 

Father stepped up and said: ‘‘ The Honorable Charles 
Sumner, I have read your speeches. I have felt itis the duty 
of every American to take you by the hand. This is my son. 
He has returned from the Kansas conflict.’’ 

Honorable Charles Sumner did not see father nor his son, 
but he saw the brakeman and said: ‘‘Can you get me 
a place where I will be undisturbed ?’’ 

Poor father! His heart was almost broken. During his 
last twenty-five years he never referred to the Honorable 
Charles Sumner. 

Sumner was in greater demand as a lecturer than any other 
man of his time just about those years. His price was $300 
to $500. There was never any difficulty in getting it, 


® 
DOCTOR PARKER'S TRIBUTE TO BEECHER 

Rev. Dr. Joseph Parker, minister of City Temple, London, 
and the greatest of living pulpit orators—I do not say the 
greatest preacher, for I think that distinction belongs to Dr. 
Lyman Abbott—has eccentricities that have retarded his 
friendships among strangers. Doctor Parker and his congre- 
gation in London were loyal, staunch friends of Mr, Beecher 
and his church during the time of the great preacher's 
deepest sorrow. In 1886, while in England with Henry Ward 
Beecher, | engaged Doctor Parker to come over here and 
make a lecture tour, 

Meanwhile his friend, Mr. Beecher, died, and as Doctor 
Parker was coming to America, it was arranged that he 
should deliver a eulogy on his friend in the Academy of 
Music, Brooklyn, The net proceeds I was to donate to the 
Beecher Statue Fund, then being raised. It was the Doctor’s 
first appearance of the tour, It was a large audience of Mr. 
Beecher’s friends that nearly filled the Academy. The net 
proceeds were subsequently turned over to the Statue Fund as 
a contribution from me. 

At the end of the first week [| paid Doctor Parker for five 
iectures, which included the Beecher eulogy. I made no 
objections to this. In fact, I knew I had a perfect right to do 
so. Nothing was said about it in settlement. The Doctor 
had delivered five lectures and I had paid him. The net 
proceeds of the first lecture I had donated to the Beecher 
Statue Fund. I should have sent in a check as the net 
receipts of the lecture, with no further explanation, and then 
everything would have been all right and no questions asked, 
but as many thought the net receipts—about $1100-——looked 
small for so large a house, and did not take into consideration 
the expense of the Academy of Music rental, advertising, etc., 
I made a con- fidential state- 
ment to a mem- ber of the Statue 
Committee of all items, in- 
cluding the fee of the speaker. 
The Secretary happened to be 


Volume 172, No. 8 


the very last man I should have trusted. He at once had 
an item for the newspapers and rushed to the office, and 
that evening appeared in all the daily papers sensational 
headlines 

“DR. PARKER TAKES PAY POR EULOGIZING HIS FRIEND!” 
“MAJOR POND WITHHOLDS MONEY BELONGING TO THE 

BEECHER STATUE” 
“DEACON WHITE COMES OUT AND DENOUNCES THE 
THIEF AND ACCOMPLICE, ETC.” 

It was exciting. Doctor Parker was on the road filling 
lecture engagements. Reporters and interviewers found him 
in Chicago and told him he was charged with refusing to 
deliver a eulogy on his friend for less than $250. Had he 
any money belonging to the Beecher Statue Fund? He 
declared he had none 

a» 


TEARING UP AN ELEVEN-HUNDRED-DOLLAR CHECK 

He had been lecturing to crowded houses, but now the 
reporters completely demoralized him. He telegraphed me 
that he must stop. He was ill and could not go farther. He 
returned to New York. Reporters haunted him there. Every 
interview made matters worse He engaged passage and 
sailed back home in a very few days. There was due to 
Doctor Parker $1100 for lectures that he had delivered. Of 
course I had been making money on his lectures, and to stop 
and cance! was a financial loss to me, but as in all contracts, 
** jlIness or unavoidable circumstances render this agreement 
null and void,’’ I could only settle with Doctor Parker by 
paying what was due him. I made out the statement and 
accompanying check for $1100. He sent for me the day 
before he sailed. As I came into his dignified and sombre 
presence the Doctor said: 

** Major Pond, I sail for my home to-morrow. My health 
is such that I cannot goon. The long voyages frighten me, 
and I am so completely collapsed when I arrive at the end of 
a day’s journey that I cannot address my audiences. Under 
these conditions, and with this certificate of one of your most 
eminent physicians, I am legally released from any obligation 
to you. You owe me $1100 according to this statement. I 
propose to go away from America owing no one and having 
no one owe me, and you wish to pay me? You give me this 
check, which I suppose is good.’’ 

Holding the check in his hand, he proceeded to tear it up. 
**You are an honorable man. I want you to feel welcome 
at all times in my house in London. As to what you owe 
me, I propose to give you five hundred years to pay me, 
and if when due you cannot meet it I will renew it five 
hundred years more.’’ 

That was Doctor Parker's eccentric business way. 


® 
THE ABLEST MAN OF THE BLACK RACE 

Frederick Douglass for two or three decades was one of 
the favorites of the lyceum, which he only abandoned after 
the emancipation of his race. Douglass beyond all compar- 
ison was the ablest man whom the black race ever produced 
in our country, either among the pure black or the class of 
mixed blood. He himself was a mulatto. He always gave 
his mother the credit of his talents. Douglass was born a 
slave. In early manhood he managed to escape on a ship, 
and landed in New Bedford, Massachusetts. There he soon 
learned to read, and worked at such work as he could find. 
By and by he attended anti-slavery meetings, and soon 
became a popular speaker and the pet of the abolitionists. 
His graphic accounts of his life as a slave were very popular 

From giving the story of his life, he gradually branched 
into discussions of the political questions of the day, and next 
to Phillips was probably the ablest orator of the anti-slavery 
movement. Eventually he went to Rochester and published, 
for many years, a weekly anti-slavery paper. Its title was 
Frederick Douglass’ Paper. Then he became a lecturer, and 
his fame spread so rapidly that he took rank in the favor of 
the lecture-going public with Phillips and the other leading 
lights of the lyceum. When Lincoln came into power 
Douglass moved to Washington and was appointed to office 
in the District of Columbia as Marshal, which he held during 
the entire period of Lincoln's administration. 

Douglass’ first wife was a plantation negress without 
any education. A few years ago he married again. His 
second wife was white, and a woman of ability and 
education. The black race has developed under freedom 
many effective speakers, but Douglass was the only 
man among them who deserved to be regarded as a real 
orator. Most of the negro speakers were really benefited in 
public esteem on account of their color—that is, they could 
not have had as good a reputation as they won if they had 
been white men, for their audiences made excuses for them 
that they would not have made for a white man. But 
Douglass was retarded by his color—for he would have won 
a higher rank if he had been a white man. 


® 
HOW DOUGLASS PUT A CROWD TO SHAME 

After hearing Douglass and Anna Dickinson speak at the 
first Southern Loyalist Convention at Philadelphia, John 
Minor Botts, the famous Virginian political leader, said: 

“To-day I have heard the greatest white woman and 
the greatest colored orator in America. I tell you, sir, if 
Douglass had been a white man he would have been regarded 
as one of the greatest men in America."’ 

‘Well, sir,’’ was the reply of his Northern listener, ‘‘ we 
regard him as one of the greatest men in our country, even 
though he is a colored man.”’ 

In Janesville, Wisconsin, the landlord of the hotel would 
not allow him in the dining-room. The people got out a hose 
cart and engine and were going to wash out the place. Mr. 
Douglass came out on the porch and said: 

**Go back. Don’t blame the man. He is not to blame.’ 

He made a plea there that put us all to shame. 


a 
BOOKER T. WASHINGTON’S GREAT GIFTS 

Booker T. Washington is Principal and founder of the 
Tuskegee Normal and Industria! Institute, of Tuskegee. 

Born a slave, he occupies a place among the foremost 
men of the age. At the Home Missionary meeting of the 
Presbyterians in Carnegie Hall, March 3, 1896, where 
President Cleveland presided, and where many of the 
greatest preachers and pulpit orators took part, this modest, 
unassuming negro of the South was the lion of the evening 
next to the President. He was a revelation to the people of 
the North. He has fire and magnetism and 
gifts of oratory which few of our Northern 
orators possess, whether they be black or white. 
He speaks with force and conviction, and 
leaves an indelible impression that whatever he 
says, right or wrong, he believes it to be right. 


Sse 


faa 


Reddy Armstrong’s 


REFORMATION 


By 


JESSE LYNCH WILLIAMS 


Svoboda 


Drawings by Vincent A. 


was known as ‘‘ The Lucky Red,’’ and it is said that he 

gave racing tips to sporty upper classmen, although he 
was only a freshman. The reason the teams were so suc 
cessful in athletics that year was that Reddy was there to 
bet on them. It was a great blow when he reformed 

He generally worked with Runt Ramsay, because Runt 
was near enough like himself to be congenial, and not 
enough so to be desirous of bossing the firm, and because 
they had always been together ever since they were sus 
pended from ‘‘ prep’’ school for dumping a bucket of coal 
on a new undermaster’s head because he held it too high 

Runt did not have red hair, but they made a great pair to 
look at. About the campus Reddy wore a dead-grass 
colored corduroy suit and a blue sweater. Runt dressed in 
creamy corduroys and a crimson sweater, which went well 
with his black hair, which was curly. He had good taste 
about a number of things, though he hoped to get over it in 
time. 

Both of them were short, and they always walked to reci 
tations with arms closely entwined about each other’s 
shoulders, their faces wearing a demure and studious expres 
sion, as if they had spent the previous hour in hard poling 
upon the bright new books under their other arms, instead 
of scrapping on the sofa, and calling each other names 
When you said hello to them, they smiled all over their 
faces. They were good fun in a crowd at night. 

They were seldom seen apart. If one appeared on the 
campus without the other, he was asked, ‘‘ Where's Runt, 
Red?’’ or, ‘‘ Where’s Red, Runt?’’ They decided to elect 
the same studies to avoid answering this question so often. 

Their rooms were next door to each other. Red slept in 
Runt’s bed, and Runt slept in Red’s bed, and both slept 
together in first one bed, and then the other, so many times, 
and each was in the other’s room so much during the day, 
that none of the class knew which room belonged to which, 
and one day some of the fellows made a bet on it. But 
when they referred the matter to Red and Runt, they did 
not agree, and therefore betted on it themselves. But Mrs 
Glynn, who took care of the rooms, was not certain, and 
they finally appealed to the Assistant Treasurer of the college 
to decide it 


| N THE early days of his college course Reddy Armstrong 


2 


On Saturdays of the racing season they used to come to 
morning recitations dressed in loud linen and broad strap 
seamed top-coats, and then steal out as soon as the roll was 
called and take the train for Guttenberg. If the day was 
lucky, they stayed in New York Saturday night and Sunday, 
that they might rest far away from the excitement and 
frivolities of the campus. If unsuccessful, they sneaked 
back sleepily on the *‘ Owl "’ train, and told Tom, the carriage 
driver from the Junction, to hang it up. And if they had 
been too much cleaned out to telegraph him to meet them, 
they plunged through the three miles of dreary Jersey mid 
night, and cursed the inventors of railroad ties and patent 
leather shoes. 

But they were unlucky remarkably seldom, and sometimes 
they did some big things. That is, Reddy didthem. His 
round boy’s face became familiar and somewhat fearful to 
the bookmakers. There were half a dozen followers, at 
Monmouth and at the other places that he frequented, who 
had learned that to bet as the little red-haired sport did 
was more efficient than rubbing the hump of a humpback 

These gentlemen dressed in huge checks, and, with large, 
black cigars under their large, black mustaches, used to 
watch for the round, freckled, smiling face, followed by the 
other smiling, unfreckled one. Then they would flock 
about the two boys and ask: ‘Say, do yous t’ink Jacobin 
can carry dat much?”’ Garrison ain’t to ride Petrel 
to-day. See?’’ and so on. And Reddy, who enjoyed all 
this, would look out over the buzzing crowd, and the excited 
women, and the jockeys warming up the runners, and give 
his opinion to each in a few earnest, sober words. If any 
of them dared to ask why, he blew smoke in their faces 
and looked offended 


2 


One day a certain well-known official, when he heard 
that he was a son of the Armstrongs of the “‘ Sunnybank 
breed farm,’’ sent a messenger and brought Reddy to his box 

** Ah, you’re a son of Colonel Armstrong’s, I believe He 
and I are old friends, you know,’ he said, with a smile 
that was intended to win, and then tried to draw young 
Armstrong out as to his father’s intentions in regard to 
Gascon, the weli-known two-year-old. But as the boy would 
not draw, he finally asked: ‘‘ Well, now, do you think he 
will eoter him on the sixteenth?’’ At which Reddy, 
because he thought it was nobody’s business, turned his 
blue eyes timidly toward the beady black ones of the well 
known official and made answer: ‘‘ Oh, no, sir,’’ and this 
was not exactly true, as could have been proven by a letter 
in the inside pocket of Reddy's blue coat 

Then the well-known official, because he thought he had 
performed a clever stroke, extended the privileges of the club 
to Reddy out of gratitude, and said: ‘‘ Always come in here 
and sit with us, and bring your friend, too None of which 
Reddy did, because he saw things. Also, because it made 
him angry, and his red face still redder, to have men of that 
stamp claim friendship with his father, and equality with 
the Armstrongs of Kentucky 

You see, he had been brought up to consider the horse, 
next to woman, God's best and noblest gift to man. His 
earliest recoilections were of his father and uncles and other 
Kentuckians drinking mint-juleps and talking horse in the 
wide Southern hall. When he was a little white-haired 
baby, the first word he said was horse. At least, his father 
thought it was. He had learned to ride before he could 
walk, and had spent all his boyhood with horses and gentle 
men horse-raisers. The family had gone in principally for 


PIC tee ow 
RE ire Pa 


THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


that ever since his great 
grandfather came over the 
mountains from Virginia for 
more room and fresh blue 
grass. He knew no other 
sort of boyhood, and he did 
not know what to think of 
the boys he met when he first 
came North to school 

Because he was small, and 
ugly, and mischievous, and 
witty, and generous to excess, 
and quick to think and act, 
and everything else that red 
headed freshmen are ex 
pected to be, he was well 
known and liked in the class, 
from the first night of the 
term, when he turned his 
trustful blue eyes toward the sophomore standing over him 
in the corner, and said in sweet, sad, Southern tones 
‘I declare, I'm mighty sorry I can’t sing But that big 
fellow over there can.’’ 

He became well loved, too, by those who got near enough 
to him to see the good stuff in him But it did not become 
deep respect and universal regard until he was an upper 
classman, and became a well-known orator in Whig Hall 
But that was not until after his reformation 


” 


Certain well-meaning members of the class had on more 
than one occasion knocked at his door and, with kind intent 
and great lack of tact, besought him to repent of his many 
sins and turn from his wild career while as yet there was 
time. The lucky Red had always listened docilly and 
thoughtfully, and had generally agreed with all the hard 
things they had said of him, He had thanked them, bowed 
them from the room in his polite Southern way, and then 
sent Runt to collect the gang. It was not one of these visits 
that affected him. 

It began one night in the fall of sophomore year. The 
gang had said good-night. Reddy and Runt had done a 
little poling, and were now lounging by the open fire, swear- 
ing gently at each other as was their wont when they wished 
to show their affection. They roomed on the campus now. 


As Ramsay arose to reach a match from the mantelpiece 
It fell upon the 
He did not 


for his pipe, his foot struck the iron shovel. 
brick hearth afid made a sharp, ringing sound. 
notice it, but it changed 
all the world to Reddy. 
The ring of the shovel 
made him stop think- 
ing how he should have 
played the last hand, 
and, by some process 
which has a long psy- 
chological name, the 
whole current of his 
thought was turned. A 
certain big, ugly Fact 
stared him in the face, 
and made him shiver 
So, saying good-night 
to Runt, he jumped into 
bed to sleep off his sour. 
But this was not an ordi. 
nary sour, and he did 
not close his eyes until 
daybreak, and then he 
slept through chapel 
and two _ recitations. 
In consequence, he re- 
ceived a note from the 
Registrar, stating that 
the Absence Committee 
would wait upon him on 
Wednesday, at noon. 


For over a year now 
this thing had come over 
him every now and then 
like a dull ache. He 
knew that it was all a 
matter of time before he 
would have to do some- 
thing; but he thought 
he could keep on a while 
longer, dodging or turn- 
ing his back upon it. 
But this time the big 


black fact seemed to 
have him in a narrow 
pass, and at eleven 


o’clock in the morning, 
as Mrs. O'Sullivan was 
pushing the furniture 
about, and pounding up 
a dust inthe next room, 


Armstrong sat up in 

oa Mar? "_ a ‘All along, Reddy Never mind 
ougn Ss ec tar, 7, 98 

and decided to do it how Don't look down there 


before sunset 

He told himself that 
what it meant was sim 
ply the removing of Something which bothered his free 
enjoyment of life. He was carrying too much weight for 
so young a horse; that was all 


F 


When Runt Ramsay came in, after luncheon, he found a 
notice on the tobacco jar, stating that his room-mate had 
gone to New York on an invitation from his bachelor lawyer 
cousin, and that, as he was coming back on the ‘' Ow!l,’’ he 
expected Runt to put something to eat on the bookcase, and 
some matches in the matchsafe by the door, as he had none, 
and it was Runt’s turn to buy them anyway, Runt said, 
‘Humph!’’ and forgot. But, as it happened, it did not 
matter 

Red went as far as New Brunswick, then stepped off that 
train and took one for Philadelphia, But he did not stop 
there. He went on southward until the shadows became 
long. Then he jumped off and hurried to a place along a 
country roadside, where a blue ridge looks a certain way 
when the sun is setting, and where something else was pretty 
sure to appear if the day were fine and he watched long 
enough. He knew how this looked, too, and when she 
reined up, the eyebrows looked surprised in the way he 


r1¢§ 


expected; then she cried, ‘‘ You, Reddy! Good gracious!’’ 
just as he knew she would 

He said, ‘‘ Make Tom walk."’ 

She said, *‘ Is Hunter ill?’’ 

** No.’”’ 

** What's the matter? 
are you doing here?"’ 

** Looking at you."’ 

‘IT know that. Hurry up. Say something.’’ 

“*T have a lot to say You must listen to all of it, Betty 


y 


Then the boy, whose mouth drooped at the corners, did 
some pretty hard talking. And the girl, who was small, 
and had a willful chin, and a great deal of dark brown 
hair, which the sun knew how to shine on, she also talked 
** You will have to tell me to go away forever,’’ 


Where did you come from? What 


*T won't 
* Betty, you must.’ 
* Reddy, I can't.”’ 


** You don't know me."’ 
*I do,”’ 
‘Tam bad—all bad."’ 


‘1 don’t care.’’ 
‘1 drink.”’ 
‘ Never mind telling me, Reddy— 

‘Ves, and I gamble and play the races, and I lie to the 
governor, and lie to you, and lie to every one, and l——"' 

* Stop, Reddy."’ 

‘That isn’t half. Why, when all is told, you 
ashamed that you ever looked into my ugly red face 

‘* Don't, Reddy; please don’t!'’ 

‘I'm sorry, but you must hear now. I'm just going to 
make you see what kind of a fellow lam. Why, I've been 
deceiving you ever since on 

‘No, Reddy; you haven’t.’"’ 

* Haven't what?’’ 

‘| know-——know all about it."’ 

‘You, little girl; you know about me?" 

* T've known all along.’’ 

* All along! How?" 

‘* All along, Reddy, 
there.’’ 

** Betty, see here. 
long ago?"’ 

** Because—look up at me, Reddy—I knew that Hunter 
would bring you around all right; don't be so surprised," 


will be 


Never mind how. Don't look down 


Why haven't you sent—sent me away 


** Suppose—suppose he had not.’’ 
"But, Reddy, dear 
Reddy, you have 
stopped, or else you 


would not be telling me, 
While you were that 
other kind of a Reddy 
you didn’t want me to 


know. You wouldn't 
even be angry when I 
flirted with "’ 


. 


‘* Listen to me, Betty, 
Betty, would you give 
me up now if 1 were to 
tell you that I had not 
reformed at all, and was 


only making a= clean 
breast of it?'’ 

** Maybe.'' 

‘Would you, Betty? 


Quick.”’ 

‘No, Reddy, "' 

Why?" 

** Because,’ 

** Because what?’’ 

‘' Because—well—lI 
know you would be sure 
to come round all right 
some time, because you 
are Reddy, and I love 
you, and I pray—oh, so 
hard for you! I’m not 
crying.’’ 

‘Oh, Betty,’ said the 
boy 

Kiss me, No; up 
here, the way you used 
to."’ 

‘'No,”’ said Reddy; 
‘not even the hands,’’ 
He knelt down in the 
muddy road, 

“You're a sillier 
Reddy than ever. Get 
up. Now, Reddy, good- 


by You must go 
But she reined up again 
od 


She poked her nose 
down close to his big, 
blue eyes, and shut her 
teeth close together, and 
spoke rapidly. ‘' Do 
you want to know how I 
could tell you were bad? 
The way you looked at 
That's the reason I cried, and you 
called me a silly little thing. Want to knew why I would 
not send you away even if you were still bad? ‘Cause 
you might never come back, Then I'd die, What? I 
know that? Yes, I know that, too, Of course you are not 
worthy. Who said you were? There's some mud on your 
lip, Reddy Armstrong, that came off my riding-boot,. Wipe 
it away. And there’s something else there I don’t like 
It's not a bit nice; it’s white and its bristly. Shave it! 
Do you hear me? How dare you come into my presence 
with that thing! Go!" But there were big tears in the 


girl's eyes. 
a 


Reddy watched her gallop away into the sunset, Then 
he turned back, loathing himself, and wondering what a 
strange thing was the love of a girl. 

He had done all he could. He had told her. She knew 
now. Yet she would not let him go, So far as he could 
see, the only thing for him to do was to stop short, and 
make a man of himself, which he did 

But that was not the only thing tobe done. What sort of 
a fellow he had been she might know or make a guess at, 


me all freshman year 


116 


There was one thing she did not know, and never should, if 
he could heip it In one way it was worse than everything 
else put together This would be hard to fix 


» 


Runt was sitting on the floor in a characteristic attitude 
before the fire when his room-mate came in His chin rested 
on his knees, and these he was hugging with both arms He 
was in pajamas, and he had doubled the end of the goatskin 
rug over his bare toes 

"* Runt,’’ began Reddy 

* vee." 

Reddy turned out the gas 

‘' What are you doing ? 

“ Runt, this thing’s got to stop 

** What thing's got to stop?’’ 

"The way you and | are carrying on 
leading here.’ 

"What're you talking about?"’ 

"Simply this: You and I, Runt, are two pretty nice fel 
lows, only we're making great big fools of ourselves here at 
college.’’ 

** What's getting into you? 

‘Tmeanit. Seehere You and | are going to be lawyers, 
and in order to do that we must have an education.”’ 

‘*Well?”’ 

** And though we may at this rate get our ‘‘ dips’’ at the 
end, we aren't getting what we should out of our college 
course. But I don’t refer to that so much, It's what we do, 
not what we don’t, that I'm talking about. You and I are 
going to be lawyers, and we've got to be more or less honest 
when we become lawyers, merely from a business standpoint, 


asked Runt, without looking up 


The life we are 


you know. Playing poker and spending a day or two every 

week at the races are not the proper training for that.’’ 
"Por Heaven's sake, 

Red——"’ 


** Get serious, Runt; get 


serious. I mean all this 
I've been doing a tot of 
thinking. We are getting 


older now. Life is getting 
to mean something. We've 
got to take a brace, you 
and I, It's getting blamed 
tiresome to me, anyway, 
to be pointed out on the 
campus as ‘ Lucky Reddy 
Armatrong.’ I want to be 
known as something 
serious, I want to be 
respected as well as liked 
You do, too,"’ 

‘'What did you drink 
at your cousin's club?’ 

"Cork up! I propose 
to make myself something 
better than a clown to be 
funny for people, I might 
just as well tell you right 
now'’—Reddy's voice 
became solemn-—''/ have 
quil the game/"’ 


® 


There was a pause, Red 
spread himself out upon 
the rug and supported his 
head with an elbow. He 
unconsciously watched 
Runt doubling up his toes, 
and trying to gather goat's 
hair in them, A cinder 
fell in the ash-pan 

“ How long do you think 
it will last, Red?'’ 

“Shut up! Don’t say 
that to me, Did I ever 
talk thisway before? This 
is no ‘What a difference 
inthe morning’ sour, I'm 
in dead, dead earnest 
for once in my life any 
"His voice sounded 


way 
so. Runt had never heard 
it shake that way since 


early in the term, when a 
big freshman had an impu 
dent notion not to take off 
his hat to such a = short 
sophomore, ‘‘And,’’ he 
went on vigorously, ‘‘ it 
makes very little differ 
ence to me whether you 
believe I mean it or not 
I have made up my mind, 
though, in regard to myself, 
and I shouldn't be a friend 
of yours if I did not tell 
you about it, You can do 
as you please,'’ 

He knew that his influ 
ence over Runt was power 
ful, but he had never tried 
to exert it in this direction 
before, So he turned over 
on his stomach, and stuck 
his fists under his chin, 
and puckered up his blue eyes at the red coals. The glow 
of the fire shone on the red head and on the black one, and 
neither of them was saying a word, 


a 


Presently Red began again, It was in a different tone this 
time, He did not relish talking in this strain. 

** Besides, in your case, there's going home.’’ He kept 
his eyes on the fire, “It's different with me. The governor 
has a pretty good idea of what I’m doing here, though I lie 
to him regularly, and he laughs about it with Uncle Sed, 
But I have no mother, you know, nor any unmarried sisters 
to care a rap what becomes of me. But with you-—well, 
you know it’s all a big lie the way you act at home; the way 
you pretend to be so frank with them all, the way you go to 
prayer meetings, and talk to your father about his sermons, 
and all that.’’ 

This was just about as far as one bey can go with another, 
Red feared that Runt would stand very little more, even 
from him. But this was the most important situation he had 
ever been in, That was the reason he turned and addressed 
his room-mate by his Christian name. 


“SIMPLY THIS 
WE'RE MAKING 


YOU AND 1, RUNT, ARE 


THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


“ Hunter, you are the worst hypocrite I know—next to 
myself. And I'm going to stom being one. Whether you 
can do it or not, I can’t stand any more of it, going down 
there in vacations, and being kissed by your mother and 
believed in by your father, and all the time telling big, long 


lies about yuu to—to the others How can you look in her 
eyes, Runt, and then make out—oh, if you could have seen 
the way she looked at me to-day when she said— 
To-day! Who? 
* Betty 
"Betty? Today? I thought you—what were you doing 


in—oh, Red, did Sis put you up to this? 

“No, Runt; no. She thinks you are as good as her own 
pure self I went down there—well, I wanted to tell her 
I had not been square Listen, Rumt: She thinks that you 
have reformed me. She believes you to be the best man in 
the world, next to your father. She said: ‘I knew Hunter 
would bring you round all right!’ She knew I had been 
bad, she said, by the way—by the way I acted But 
thinks her brother has been an angel all the time; and you 
have been as bad as I have, and it’s all my own dirty doing 


she 


I dragged you with me (Shut up! I did!)—I’ve been your 
evil influence ever since we first roomed together at the 
“prep’’ school—ever since we dumped the coal on (Shut 
up!) Mr. Beaman I am the one that started you on the 


road to hell, and now I can’t stop you 
‘Cork up, Red!'’ the other at last broke in 
swallowing hard So was Reddy 


a 


At first the gang laughed. There was indeed something 
amusing about it all. But when they saw that the two little 
Dead Games were in earnest, and looked pathetic when 
guyed about it, they left off making jocular remarks 


He was 


FELLOWS, ONLY 
COLLEGE" 


TWO PRETTY NICE 


GREAT BIG FOOLS OF OURSELVES HERE AT 


Finally, even the faculty got the idea through their heads. 
But they are always slow to acknowledge that any good 
thing can come out of the sporting element, and they con 
tinued for a term or two to give the pair fifth groups in their 
studies, from force of habit, and also occasional invitations 
to their Friday afternoon stag receptions in college offices. 
This greatly pained the dignity of the two 


wus 
THE UNKNOWN QUANTITY 


By MADELINE 8. BRIDGES 


H® STERNLY said, “* You're a wicked flirt; 
You've encouraged, and then refused 
Fully a dozen men I know.”’ 
But she only looked amused. 


‘* Now what are you smiling at?"’ he asked. 
** Do you mean that it isn't so?’’ 

“ Not quite I was smiling just to think 
Ot the dozen you didn’t know!"’ 


Volume No. 8 


172 
-) 


PROFESSOR PHILLIPS’ 
<> RECEPTION 


/ = 
Fi 
A 
4 t 
¢ > 
By 


CHARLES BATTELL 
LOOMIS sw#a 


the chair of Belles Lettres at Westerly Seminary when 
I was a student there It was natural enough, then, 
that when I learned that in his new réle of lyceum lecturer 
he was to fill an engagement in the course at Warrenton, of 
which I am a native and resident, I should conceive the idea 
of giving him a little reception at our house after the lecture 
I spoke of my plan to Mr. Ford, the President of the High 
School, and he was much pleased 
All who have had the pleasure of meeting Professor 
Phillips know what a charming man he is; how courteous, 
how witty, how thoroughly at his ease under al! conditions. 
In fine, he is just the man to be lionized with pleasure to all 
concerned. Our house is large and commodious, and 
I sent out invitations to at least one hundred and 
fifty of the townspeople. The list included not only 
those of marked literary inclinations, but about every- 
body who is anybody in Warrenton. With mother's 
help I prepared a supper, and I engaged Aunt Sally to 
make coffee Aunt Sally is an ex-slave whose coffee 
is a foretaste of eternal bliss. 


a 
was a great success. The subject was 
The Influence of Tennyson upon the Other Victorian 
Poets, and as I am an ardent lover of Tennyson I 
regretted exceedingly my inability to attend the lecture 
hundred last touches to 


Prine chair WALDO RENWICK PHILLIPS occupied 


The lecture 


myself, but there were a 
make in the preparations for Professor Phillips’ 
reception, and so mother and I stayed at home. I 


am so absent-minded that I don’t know what I should 
have done had it not been for mother’s help. 

At a little after ten the guests began to arrive, and 
as most of them came directly from the hall it was 
not long before they were all present. By half-past ten 
we began to wonder why Professor Phillips had not 
It was probably due to my lack of forethought. 


come 
Mr. Ford was to have acted as his escort, but he had 
been called out of town that afternoon, and I had 


neglected to appoint any one to act in his place. 
However, our house is known to all in Warrenton, 
and the Professor would doubtless arrive in a few 
minutes He might have gone to his hotel to refresh 
himself and prepare for his lionizing. 

My friends wandered around the parlors discussing 
the lecture and the personality of the great man they 
had heard, and so my reception, had it been merely 
an ‘‘at home,’’ would have been voted a triumphant 
success. But as it was, there was a slight feeling of 
restlessness—a wish that what was going to happen 
would happen soon—and when eleven o'clock came 
and still no Professor Phillips, Captain Honesdale 
volunteered to go to the hotel 

Warrenton people are early birds, and a good many 
of the older ones were plainly meditating flight, and 
that, too, before supper. So mother suggested that I 


have supper at once, and when Professor Phillips 
arrived they would be in a good mood. This plan 
was carried out, and our guests were soon passing 


encomiums upon Aunt Sally’s coffee and mother’s cake. 


® 


At eleven a dozen people had excused themselves 
regretfully, and a few minutes later Captain Honesdale 
came back and, true to his calling, exploded a bomb- 
shell at out feet; ‘‘ Professor Phillips has gone home. 
He took the ten-thirty train for Boston!’’ 

I could searcely credit my ears or the Captain’s 
tongue. For Waldo Renwick Phillips to do so rude 
a thing was simply inconceivable. Had he been some 
foreign notability I should have laid it to a lack of 
breeding, to a sudden shyness, to a hundred causes; but 
Professor Phillips, the urbane man of the world, to flee 
from a social function to which he had been invited! 

** Heavens!’’ I shrieked, and turned as pale as a 
sheet. Several rushed up to me, thinking I was going 
to faint, but I waved them aside. 

‘I didn’t invite him! I forgot to!’’ I 
managed to say weakly. 

‘*What?’’ shouted nearly every one in the room. 

‘‘ It’s just my absent-mindedaess. I was so taken 
up with the brilliancy of the idea of having him, and 
afterward with the preparations, that I never once 
thought to write and ask him.’’ 

‘* Eleanor Sargent! ’’ said mother. 

‘* But,’’ said Captain Honesdale, after a pause, 
** when he didn’t write to you, didn’t you think that queer?’’ 

I shook my head sadly. ‘*‘ More absent-mindedness. I 
never thought until this minute that he hadn't replied.’’ 

And then I burst into tears 

My guests made the best they could of it, and as it was 
really awfully late for Warrenton, they all Jeft in a body, 
avowing that they had had a perfectly delightful time 
Two days later I received the following letter: 


finally 


** No. — Beacon Street, Boston, Massachusetts, 
* MARCH 3, 189- 

“ My Dear Miss Sargent: | want to tell you what a great 
disappointment it was to me not to see you in the audience the 
other night. I was told that you were preparing for a social 
function at your house, and I readily understood, but for the 
sake of old times and because you were always a favorite pupil 
of mine I think I should have strained a point and come to 
your ‘party’ bad I not had to take the tenthirty in order to 
reach Boston this morning. Should | ever again have the 
happiness of lecturing before your appreciative townspeople I 
shall do myself the pleasure of seeking you out if you don't 
come to see (| won't say hear) me, 

“ Yours most cordially, 
“Watpo Renwick PHILLiPs.”’ 


August 19, 1899 


ROYAL YACH 


Hew Sovereigns Live at 


lines of Commodore J. Pierpont Morgan's Corsair, 

flagship of the New York Yacht Club; W. K. 
Vanderbilt's Valiant, Colonel Payne's Aphrodite, Eugene 
Higgins’ Varuna, Howard Gould’s Niagara, and the two 
big steamers, Nahma and Mayflower, built for Messrs. 
Robert and Ogden Goelet respectively, both of whom have 
since died, can conceive of no more magnificent or hand- 
somely appointed yachts than these, all of which, with the 
exception of the Mayflower, which has been sold to the 
Government, carry the burgee of the New York Yacht Club. 

Several of these yachts are superior, in model, appoint- 
ments and speed, to the ocean liner of a few years ago. 
When it is stated on good authority that the expense of 
running Commodore Morgan’s new Corsair for a seasen will 
exceed $75,000, the magnitude of expenditure for keeping up 
a big steam yacht can be appreciated. 

Beautiful and luxurious as these craft are, they are com- 
paratively insignificant when compared to the sumptuously 
appointed yachts that bear the Royal yachtsmen of Europe on 
their leisurely cruises along the blue Mediterranean, the 
stormy North Sea, or the broad Atlantic. 


@ 
THE COSTLIEST YACHT IN THE WORLD 


The number of Royal yachts owned by Queen Victoria, that 
are now in commission, is four. All! of them are old-timers 
of the side-wheel type, and when compared to the up-to-date 
yacht are slow, obsolete and awkward. The Victoria and 
Albert is the Queen’s favorite craft, and on board of this ship 
she used to make her annual winter voyagesto Cannes. The 
yacht is 300 feet long and very broad of beam; she 
has a draught of sixteen feet, and a speed of sixteen and 
eight-tenths nautical miles. She was built in 1854, but has 
been overhauled many times, and, considering her age, is 
still in good condition. Her armament consists of two six- 
pounder smooth-bore guns, and her total complement is 
151 men. 

The new Victoria and Albert, which was successfully 
launched on May 9g and christened by the Duchess of York, 
will, when completed, be the largest and most costly yacht 
in the world, as well as one of the most elaborate as to 
fittings, equipment and decorations. She was built at the 
Pembroke shipyards, and will be ready for service early next 
summer. Work on her was begun on October 25, 1897, and 
the first keelplate was laid with elaborate ceremony, on 
December 23 of the same year, by Mrs. Watson, wife of 
Burgess Watson, Superintendent of the yard. She was 
designed by Sir William White, who also superintended her 
construction. She is of steel, sheathed with teak, outside of 
which she is coppered to the deck-line. 

Comfort has not been sacrificed for extreme speed, but her 
machinery is sufficiently powerful to drive her at a sustained 
speed of seventeen knots in fair weather at sea, with an 
extreme speed of twenty knots on the measured-mile trial 
extending over eight hours. She has a coal-carrying capacity 
sufficient to steam 3000 knots. 

The length of the new yacht is 380 feet between perpen- 
diculars, 439 feet over all; her beam is fifty feet, and her 
mean draught eighteen feet. She will be equipped with twin 
screws, which will be driven by two inverted vertical cylinder 
engines, each having four cylinders and installed in separate 
water-tight compartments. Her indicated horse-power is 
11,000, and steam will be supplied by eighteen water-tube 
boilers. The State deck of the new yacht is ten feet above 
the load-water line, and between it and the bridge deck are 
situated the Royal suite, the apartments for the Royal family, 
the various cabins assigned to their various suites, and the 
staterooms of the commanding officer and the principal naval 
officers attached to the vessel. 


g 
THE QUEEN’S PRIVATE APARTMENTS 


Her Majesty's apartments are similar in general arrange- 
ment to those on the present Victoria and Albert, and occupy 
the entire deck amidships, where the motion in a seaway 
would be the minimum. The suites for the Royal family are 
arranged aft of those occupied by the Queen, and extend a 
considerable distance over the State or promenade deck. 
Abaft of these are the rooms set aside for the Royal suite. 
More than half of the entire length of the ship is occupied by 
these various apartments, which are arranged on either side 
of a corridor running fore and aft, with convenient staircases 
leading to the upper deck. 

On the after part of the upper deck is the large saloon or 
State dining-room, which will accommodate more than fifty 
people, and still farther aft are reception, lounging and 
smoking rooms. The top of this saloon or pavilion forms a 
promenade level with the forward bridge deck, and the main 
deck is reached by a grand staircase that leads direct from 
the forward part of the saloon to the principal passageway. 
An elevator, running from the main deck to the promenade, 
passes through the Royal apartments, and will be for the 
exclusive use of Her Majesty and immediate family. 

The cabins for the Royal servants and the servants of the 
suite are arranged on the lower deck, and occupy the entire 


TT" layman who has seen and admired the symmetrical 


V4, 


vem. 
rs 


A a, 
- y; cpg 


te. 


4 2 


a 
~~. 


hat» - e 
z  CLAMAN SY VZOLLERN Pe 


T 


THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


(Tike ae eae 
SAVOIA 


room from the engine space to the stern. The Royal galley, 
pantries and cupboards are also on this deck, and are con 
nected by dumb waiters to the dining-rooms above. The 
officers and crew occupy the forward part of the ship on the 
lower State deck. The yacht will be rigged out with three 
pole masts, a short pole bowsprit, and sufficient fore and aft 
sail to steady her in a seaway. She will have two funnels, 
and carry eight boats or davits in addition to the usual life 
rafts that will be stowed on deck. 


# 
ROYAL YACHTS ENROLLED IN THE NAVY 

Like the German and Russian Royal yachts, the Victoria 
and Albert will be enrolled in the Royal Navy and will be 
commanded by an officer who has attained flag rank. The 
present commander of the Royal yacht is Admiral Fullerton, 
and it is probable that to him will be offered the command 
of the new craft. He is a great favorite with the Queen, and 
comes in for considerable personal notice and attention from 
the Sovereign. He has had charge of the Victoria and Albert 
for more than a dozen years. 

There has been a yacht at the disposal of Great Britain’s 
rulers since 1817. The first craft to fly the ensign was the 
Royal George, a wooden sailing vessel of 360 tons, 103 feet 
long and twenty-six and one-half feet beam. She was in her 
heyday when the century was young, and was considered, at 
that period of semi-darkness in naval architecture, one of the 
most magnificent vessels ever launched. Her accommoda- 
tions were, of course, meagre as compared with the palaces 
of the present day, and her much-lauded ‘‘ mahogany cabin 
doors, windows of plate glass, and gilded ornaments and 
devices in various parts ’’ would appear shabby indeed along- 
side of one of the latest products of the brain of a fin de 
sidcle naval architect. 

2 


THE OLDEST YACHT AFLOAT 

The Royal George was built at Deptford eighty-two years 
ago, and is still afloat in Portsmouth Harbor, Next to the 
Victory and St. Vincent, each of which made history when 
the century was in its teens, the Royal George is the oldest 
vessel in that historic harbor, She is unquestionably the 
oldest yacht afloat to-day. In 1821 she bore the Prince 
Regent to Scotland on the event of his State visit to the north, 
and in 1842 she was again used for a similar purpose by the 
Queen and Prince Consort. On this latter trip, however, she 
was too old to be trusted under her own power, and she was 
towed from Woolwich to Aberledg Bay, where the Royal party 
boarded the yacht. 

A year later the Royal George was replaced by the first 
Victoria and Albert, a wooden side-wheel steamer 198 feet in 
length and thirty-three feet beam. This yacht was used by 
the Queen until the year 1855, when the present Victoria 
and Albert was built. She is also a side-wheeler, of 2470 
tons, 338 feet over all, 300 feet between perpendiculars, and 
of forty feet beam. When she was launched she was 
considered a vessel of exceptional proportions and very high 
speed; but the pace in naval architecture has been a fast one 
in the last twenty-five years, and despite the installation of 
an electric plant and other improvements, the craft to-day is 
unworthy to be called the Royal yacht, and presents but a 
sorry spectacle alongside the Kaiser’s big white yacht that 
is, indeed, more of a warship than a pleasure craft. 

Of the other Royal yachts, the Osborne is used principally 
by the Prince of Wales, and is the second favorite of the 
Queen. The Osborne is also of wood, has two funnels, and 
in general appearance is identical with the steamers of fifty 
years ago. She is 250 feet long, has a displacement of 1850 
tons, a draught of fourteen feet, engines of 3360 horse-power, 
and a speed of thirteen knots in smooth water. She was 
built in 1870. Despite the age of the Osborne, she is one 
of the most comfortable and luxurious yachts in English 
waters. She has always been kept in first-class condition, 
and there is no reason why she should not remain serviceable 
for many years. The Alberta is of the same type, but much 
smaller; she is of only 160 tons displacement, and has a speed 
of a trifle over twelve knots. The Elfin was laid down in 
1848, and is the oldest of the quartette. She is a wooden 
ship 103 feet long, with a maximum draught of seven feet 

In addition to these steam vessels, the Prince of Wales has 
given a goodly amount of attention to sailing vessels, and 
the big cutter Meteor, which has won many prizes under his 
racing flag, is to-day believed by many Englishmen to be the 
most speedy yacht in European waters. 


2 
AN EX-EMPRESS WHO LOVES YACHTING 


The handsome steam yacht Thistle, which flies the private 
signal of the ex-Empress Eugenie, may also be styled a Royal 
yacht. The Thistle is more modern than any of the four 
craft that belong to England’s Queen, although she is some 
what smaller. The Empress has displayed a great deal of 
taste in decorating the interior of her craft, and, as she is 
passionately fond of yachting, it goes without saying that 
she enjoys every minute on board the well-appointed 
craft. The interior decorations of the Thistle are almost 


mM 


17 


exclusively of light-colored woods, and the upholstery and 
hangings are most elaborate. Each season the craft is over 
hauled by a corps of artists and designers with the object of 
obtaining new and novel effects in the draperies and arrange- 
ments These alterations are submitted in sketches to 
Eugenie, who either vetoes or approves. A grand organ 
with a novel arrangement of pipes forms a striking feature of 
the decorative effect of the main saloon. Eugenie is seldom 
alone on board of her yacht, but entertains her nieces at short 
intervals. Princess Beatrice is her most frequent companion, 


wo 
THE GERMAN EMPEROR'S PLEASURE CRUISER 

The Hohenzollern, the Imperial yacht of the Emperor of 
Germany, is a magnificent craft, and William makes long 
voyages in her to the western coast of the Scandinavian 
Peninsula and down the English Channel for an occasional 
visit to his grandmother, The Hohenzgollern was at the Kiel 
celebration, and was the most admired of the entire fleet of 
vessels there, except, perhaps, the New York and Columbia 
of the United States Navy. 

The yacht is up to date in every particular, Her keel 
was laid in 1891, and the craft was completed two years later. 
Her length is the same as that of the cruiser New York, 380 
feet over all; her other dimensions are: forty-six feet beam, 
sixteen feet draught, and 4187 tons displacement, Her 
engines are about equal to those of the New York, and she 
has been credited with a maximum speed of twenty-two 
knots. That she is a fighting craft as well as a cruiser is 
shown by her battery, which contains three four-inch guns 
and twelve four-pounders, Her complement of men when 
cruising is 307. 

In the interior fittings of the Hohenzollern the young 
Emperor has carried out his well-known military ideas of 
simplicity, and, with the exception of the main saloon amid- 
ships, the craft gives the impression of the scrupulously neat 
man-of-war. 

a 


THE BRAUTIES OF THE GRAND SALOON 

The Emperor's suite, which is aft of the main saloon, is 
almost devoid of the hangings that are unconsciously asso- 
ciated with Royalty. The apartments are not lacking in 
artistic effect, however, as the youthful ruler is himself an 
artist of recognized ability. The result is obtained by rare 
woods, paneled and inlaid by the most skillful artisans that 
could be found in his domains. The guest-rooms are equally 
handsome, each one perfect in its simple elegance, The 
same decorative theme prevails in the officers’ quarters, 
wardroom, and crew's quarters. All has been arranged by 
a martinet, who is himself a soldier and gives his subjects 
the best of everything that can be procured in the way of 
necessities, but no luxuries. 

The grand saloon alone is fitted up in a manner that is 
associated with the lavish magnificence of the pleasure craft 
of a great ruler. This apartment is forty feet wide and 
nearly seventy feet in length. The color scheme is white 
and gold, and on the walls are several rare paintings of 
military and naval subjects. At the forward end of the 
saloon are full-length portraits of the Kaiser's father and 
mother, and a bust of his illustrious grandfather, William If, 
beams benignly from the centre of the starboard wall, An 
Oriental rug of green and gold, said to be the most valuable 
in all Europe, covers the polished floor, 

The gilded divans and chairs, hundreds of electric lights 
softened by amber globes, and soft cushions strewn about in 
profusion make the saloon seem utterly at variance with the 
rest of the ship. An incongruity that jars upon some per- 
sons is the guard of two sailors, who, with drawn cutlasses, 
stand night and day at the passageway to the Emperor's 
suite. The Emperor often makes his voyages with no com- 
panions except those of his Royal suite, but his brother, 
Prince Henry, of Prussia, who is very fond of yachting, is at 
times his congenial shipmate, 

Emperor William, in addition to his magnificent yacht, 
owns the first Meteor, which is remembered as the cutter 
Thistle that made an unsuccessful bid for the America's Cup 
some years ago; a modern cutter, also named Thistle, 
designed by Watson to lower the colors of the noted Britannia, 
and the big steel schooner Yampa, one of the finest vessels 
of that type afloat, which he purchased from the late Richard 
Suydam Palmer, N. ¥. C. C, The Yampa was an American 
vessel, designed by A. Cary Smith, of New York. 


a 
THE PLEASURE NAVY OF THE CZAR 

Russia holds the proud distinction of supporting more 
Royal yachts than any other Government in the world, The 
naval list shows that the Czar has at least five, as well as a 
still greater number of launches, which are designated as 
Royal dispatch boats. Many of this latter class are old and 
of no value, but the latest addition to the fleet of Royal 
pleasure boats, the Standart, is by far the finest vessel of her 
type afloat. She is more powerful than the Hohenzollern, 
and carries a heavier armament than any other Royal yacht 
in the world, 

Unlike the Hohenzollern, the Standart's interior is a 
dream of luxurious splendor that almost rivals the palace of 
Aladdin, Under her awnings the Czar of all the Russias 
entertains his gueste in truly Royal fashion, She is com- 
manded by a full Admiral of the Royal Navy, and carries a 
crew of 760 men, 

The Czar's favorite suite of apartments is on the upper 
deck, and consists of eight rooms directly under the immense 
bridge. The forward room is the lounging-room, and is 
furnished with the finest tapestries and weaves that ever left 
the looms of the Orient, The Czar’s commissioners traveled 
throughout the world and gathered articles of vertu, rare 
hangings, quaint carvings, and, in fact, everything that could 
possibly prove of value in the decoration of the Royal yacht. 
The best of these treasures were selected for this lounging 
apartment. 


Its mirrors are framed in native gold, studded with 


precious stones; the divans and tables are gilded; the walls 
and ceilings are burnished and lacquered, 


fame 


What Lady Somerset Learned from a Cripple 


Lady Henry Somerset is always a prominent figure at the 
meetings of the International Council of Women, especially 
when they are held in London, On such occasions her place, 
the Priory, is thrown open to the American delegates and 
their friends, It was at a tea in the Priory during the latest 
London meeting of the Council that Lady Henry told how 
she came to devote a large part of her life to slum work 
among the children, Lady Henry, by the way, is almost as 
well known in this line of effort as she is in Women’s clubs 
and British temperance work 

"It was this way,’’ she said. ‘I was moved in that direc- 
tion by the rare patience and imagination of one little boy. 
His example convinced me that patience was one of the 
qualities I needed most, and in seeking it I grew into that 
work, I was ina hospital on visiting-day while the doctors 
were changing a plaster cast which held a crippled boy's 
limb. The operation was exceedingly painful, I was told, 
yet to my surprise the little sufferer neither stirred nor 
winced, but made a curious buzzing sound with his mouth. 
After the doctors left I said to him 

"* How could you possibly stand it?’ 

‘'* That's nothin’,’ he answered; ‘ why, I just made believe 
that a bee was stingin’' me. Bees don’t hurt very much, you 
know, And I kept buzzin’ because I was afraid I'd forget 
about it's being a bee if I didn’t.’"’ 


a 
A Fee that Meant Millions 


Even more romantic than the career of Senator W. A, 
Clarke, the ‘' Copper King '' of Montana, is the rise of United 
States Senator George L. Turner, of Washington. A few 
years ago Mr, Turner was a political power in his State, and 
while he was an unsuccessful candidate for the Senate he still 
had influence enough to defeat the reélection of Senator 
Allen, and for two years Washington was represented in the 
National Capitol by one Senator only, Shortly after this 
struggle Mr, Turner lost his fortune, and the future looked 
black indeed, About this time a party of miners came into 
his law office, They had struck a lead up in British America, 
near Victoria, and wanted some law papers made out, 

*’ We can't pay you cash for ‘em, George,’’ said one of the 
party, ‘' but we'll give you some stock and call it square.’ 

‘* T don’t want the stock, boys,’’ returned Turner; ‘' we've 
known each other for some time and I'll do the work for 
nothing.'’ 

‘No, siree,’’ replied the leader; ‘' 
his comrades nodded approval 

‘Well, you keep your stock and pay me cash when you 
get it.’ 

‘We'd ruther give you the stock, George,’’ urged the 
miner, and to please them Turner took the certificates and 
tucked them away in his safe, During their stay in town the 
prospectors put up at a miners’ hotel, and paid out more of 
the certificates over the bar for liquor, which the host unwil 
lingly received. 

That was two years ago. To-day Senator Turner is a 
millionaire through those same mining stocks, the hotel 
keeper is out of business and is living on his money, and the 
mine is the famous Le Roy, one of the richest in the West. 


at 
Talmage’s Grievance Against Compositors 


Probably no American preacher has had his sermons more 
faithfully reported and more widely published than Dr. 
DeWitt Talmage, who has recently left his Washington 
pastorate to devote his whole time to writing and lecturing 
Doctor Talmage believes the press is mightier than the 
pulpit, and is a most congenial companion when among 
newspaper men, 

‘Many years ago, when my sermons first attracted the 
attention of city editors,"’ said Doctor Talmage in a recent 
conversation, ‘ you reporters used to make me fume and 
fret, but since I have come to know you better I have trans- 
ferred much of my wrath to your adversary, the compositor. 
My eyes were opened when, after annoying blunders in print, 
1 determined to report my own sermons for a certain New 
York morning paper. It chanced that the first time I 
reported myself | was preaching a sermon on the Penitential 
Psalms, in which sermon I said with emphasis: 

*** You will notice that in these verses the name of God 
does not appear once. Is not this significant?’ 

“Calm and confident that this time the sense of my 
sermon would not be distorted by careless reporting, I picked 
up the paper on Monday morning and read 

*** You will notice that in these verses the name of God 
does not appear once, Is not this magnificent?’’’ 


a 
Prinking for the Portrait Painter - 


“One of the most difficult tasks of a portrait painter,’’ 
says William M. Chase, the eminent artist, ‘‘ is to keep his 
sitter in a natural pose. It is the man whose likeness we 
want—the real man. Some persons do not realize this, and 
often a subject will change his appearance as far as possible 


>. 


we pay as we go,”’ and 


before going to a studio 
He puts on his best clothes and his company manners. 
once being commissioned to paint the portrait of a very distinguished 
New Yorker 
As I knew him, he was an ideal subject for a painter. 
was leonine 

‘ The first day that he came to my studio he was alone, and I made 
a very satisfactory beginning. 
him, and I noticed that they did not view my work with much enthusiasm. 
I had made their father look too old, they said. 


SATURDAY EVENING POST 


THE 


He will dress himself in an unusual costume 
I remember 


He was a General and had been a statesman of national 
His head 
His hair was snow white, and his complexion was pink. 
The next visit his daughters came with 


The next time, I hardly 
knew the General. He looked ten years younger. His 
shoulders were square and his cheeks were round and plump 

‘'* There!’ said the youngest daughter complacently. 
‘We want you to paint father as he is now.’ 

*** What have you done with him?’ I asked 

‘The young woman drew me aside and said: ‘We have 
put ‘‘ plumpers’’ in his cheeks (you know how hollow they 
were!), and we have had the tailor pad his shoulders. Don’t 
you think he looks better?’ 

‘* }4n afraid I didn’t tell her exactly what I did think.’’ 


a 


The Man of the Hour in South Africa 


Sir Alfred Milner, K. C. B., G. C. M. G., Governor of Cape 
Colony, and Her Majesty's High Commissioner to the 
Bloemfontein Conference with President Kruger, of the 
Transvaal Republic, is one of the most talked-about men in 
Europe to-day. His mission to ‘‘Oom Paul,’’ while 
abortive, indicates a new policy on the part of Great Britain, 
and it is the general belief that it could have been intrusted 
to no better man than the young South African administrator 

Sir Alfred has won his way to his present post by 
persistent hard work, begun in old Balliol under Doctor 


SIR ALFRED MILNER 


Jowett and in company with Sir Charles Dilke and Mr. 
H, H. Asquith. New College, Oxford, elected him to a 
Fellowship in 1881, but the future Commissioner resigned it 
and entered journalism on the staff of the Pall Mall Gazette, 
under Mr. Stead. From the editorial desk he went into poli- 
tics, first as a candidate for Parliament as a Radical, and 
later on as Mr. Goschen’s private secretary. He served in 
the finance department at home and in Egypt, under Mr. 
Goschen and Lord Cromer, He made budgets under Sir 
William Harcourt and Sir Michael Hicks-Beach. Then 
came his appointment to South Africa in which he has won 
his chief fame 

A good interviewer Sir Alfred makes. His newspaper 
training helps him there. He has learned both sides of the 
He can talk without saying anything, and interrogate 


art. 
without asking questions. He is imperturbable, unemotiona] 
and insinuating. He accomplishes many things without 


working apparently. He never seems to be busy. Yet he 
is in his office twelve hours of the day, and in his study till 
midnight 

In appearance he is slender, active and dark. His hair is 
beginning to show the silver threads of age, but his face is 
that of a college boy, fresh and clear. 

Who's Who, the British Commoner’s 
down as having no special recreation save work. 
aslander. He is a tennis player of note. 


a 
Took His Cheeks Instead of His Scalp 


General Guy V. Henry, late Commander of the United 
States forces in Porto Rico, will carry to his grave the scars 
of a terrible and nearly fatal wound which was inflicted by 
the savages in the great Sioux uprising of 1873. The 
General was slashed in the face by a knife, and the first 
impression is that he has lost his cheeks. Shortly after his 
arrival in Porto Rico a native cocoanut peddler made bold to 
ask him, while counting out his change, how he came to lose 
his cheeks. 

The General smiled and replied: ‘‘ When I was fighting 
the Indians in my country I was wounded and fel! from my 
horse. The savages didn’t think much of my scalp, and so, 
by way of compromise, they took my cheeks."’ 


‘** Burke,’’ puts him 
But this is 


Volume 172, No. 8 


Mrs. Henry is in this country interesting 
her countrywomen in the work of the Colonial 
Aid Society, of which she is President Dur 
ing her husband's official term in our new 
possession she started many classes for young 
girls and boys in the study of American his 
tory In one of these there was a 
young girl who had studied just enough of 
our early annals to misunderstand the subject 
thoroughly. Ona particular day the talk was 
upon the early patriots and their wives, and 
the teacher eloquently held forth upon the 
virtues of Hannah Adams, Abigail Adams 
Miriam Otis, Martha Washington, and others 
of like fame 

Oh! yes,"’ spoke up the girl, who knew 
all about America, ‘‘ they were great women 
They came from Massachusetts, didn’t they, 
where they burn witches, and it was because of this that 
George Washington started the Revolution in Virginia, and 
had the Declaration of Independence signed in Philadelphia?’’ 


a 
How Stanton’s Poetry Affected the Rats 


Frank L. Stanton, the well-known writer of verse, is the 
wonder and amazement of everybody who has followed his 
work. Not long ago Mr. Stanton had completed his work and 
was about to leave the office when he discovered that the 
three poems that were to constitute part of the column fitted 
well with the details of a Northern publisher's request. 
Taking them out from the copy which was ready to go to the 
composing room, he mailed them North, and in less than a 
half hour had written three substitutes, all of which were 
copied with unusual frequency. 

Some of the poet's negligence is shown in the way he pre- 
serves his work. The poems are cut out of the Constitution 
and put into cloth bags. Recently when he was getting 
ready his new book, Comes One With a Song, he went to 
these bags and found that the rats had gnawed in and had a 
“feast of reason 

The experience, however, has given rise to the belief 
among Mr. Stanton’s associates that since then the rats in 
Atlanta show a strange deformity—all having two short feet 
and one long foot—the anapest being not infrequent in the 


poet’s work etal 
TOLD MORE BRIEFLY 


Why Bishops Do Not Strike.—Bishop Potter has long done 
eminent work among the labor unions of New Yerk, and has 
aided in averting and settling many strikes. Once, in talk 
ing with a committee of strikers in regard to some settlement, 
he remarked incidentally, ‘‘ It is well that clergymen don’t 


‘ lasse Ss 


go on a strike 

One of his callers, an East-Side walking delegate, 
answered, ‘‘ They would if they worked by the day, but they 
work by the job.’ 


A Baffling Detail.—Johannes Gelert, the New York 
sculptor, was in his studio one day when a man and woman 
called. They were apparently a well-to-do farmer and his 
wife, who were making their first tour in the world of art. 
The sculptor explained to them the mysteries of modeling 
and casting. At the end the man said: ‘I think I under- 
stand it pretty well now, but there is still one thing that 
puzzles me,’’ 

‘* What is it?’’ asked the artist 

‘‘T understand how a statue is in the piece of marble that 
you buy, but how do you cut away the stuff which is around 
t?’’ 

Lieutenant Neville’s Nerve.—That war develops the imag- 
ination even of the most fearless is known to every old 
soldier. A marine, who served at Guantanamo under Lieu 
tenant Teddy Neville, of the Marine Corps, says 

here wasn't a braver man in the Navy than Neville. I 
have known him to play the mandolin and sing love songs 
when by so doing he made himself a target for Spanish 
guerillas We had been fighting sharpshooters for several 
days in the chaparral and were completely fagged out. J 
was on guard, and was visited by the Lieutenant who was 
going the rounds of the) ickets. We were talking in whis 
pers when we heard a noise in the underbrush like that of 
men crawling toward us. I challenged, and as there came 
no answer I fired and fell back. There was silence for a few 
minutes, and then several of our pickets heard the same noise, 
and again there was firing. This went on until dawn. 
When the sun came up the mysterious foe were plainly visi- 
ble. They were a flock of wild goats that had been driven 
out by the Spaniards and wanted to get into a place of safety 
near our camp.”’ 


Director Merriam as a Horseman.—The recent appointment 
of ex-Governor William R. Merriam, of Minnesota, to the 
Directorship of the Twelfth National Census, may be called 
another victory for the American trotting horse. Mr 
Merriam has long borne the same high reputation in the 
world of horse lovers as the late Robert Bonner, of New York. 
Among the famous horses which he has owned have been 
the gelding Silverton, Reina, Adelaide, A. V. Pantalind, 
Belle F., and Phaebe Wilkes. He was one of the first to 
oppose the theory that fleet horses could not be raised in the 
far Northern States, and also to prove his theories by actual 
practice. 

An Evarts Soliloquy.—William M. Evarts has been an 
invalid several years, and, though but a shadow of his former 
self, still retains much of his quaint, dry humor. Not long 
ago he was being dressed. During a pause in the operation 
he looked at his emaciated frame and remarked quietly: 

** Just about one-half of myself. I wonder if the other half 
presents such a sorry appearance.’ 

Miss Proctor’s Youthful Critics.—Miss Mary Proctor, the 
astronomer and lecturer, takes a deep interest in social set- 
tlement work in the big cities, and frequently gives her per- 
sonal services toward entertaining poor children and adults. 
Generally her lectures are very well received. Many of her 
audiences often manifest better attention than those drawn 
from higher circles. Now and then there are exceptions. 

On one occasion a bright-eyed little boy, who sat in the 
front row with his eyes fixed upon the speaker, was asked 
how he liked it. 

** I guess,’’ he said, ‘‘ it was pretty good, but she ought to 
talk about lions and tigers. That’s better for everybody.”’ 

At another lecture a youngster criticised her as follows 

“It’s all very well to talk of weighing and measuring 
stars. There are some people, of course, who believe that 
sort of thing, but if she thinks she can fool us boys with such 
fairy tales she’s very much mistaken.’’ 


August 19, 1899 


Mr. Bryan's Ideas on 
Our Policy in the Philippines 


It is assured that the Philippines will 
play an important part in the coming Presiden 
tial election. The reply of the Administration 
and its friends to demands that this country 
withdraw from its Eastern complications is 
that the critics must first show the way out 
The meeting of the Democratic National 
Committee in Chicago served to announce 
the policy of the Democratic leaders 

Mr. William J. Bryan, in a speech which 
raised great enthusiasm, declared that “‘ if 
the terms made to Cuba had been made to 
the Philippines not one drop of blood would 
have been shed in the Philippine Islands.’’ 
After that he declared, ‘I repeat that we 
must deal with these people according to American princi 
ples. They desire their independegce. Let us say to them 
as we said to Cuba: Stand up and be free, and to all the 
world say, Hands off, and let every Republic live.”’ He 
said that according to the Declaration of Independence we 
have no right to acquire title by conquest 

Coincident with this the State Department has announced 
on the authority of the Philippine Commission that munici 
pal government has been established in several important 
towns, and that the people are willing to be governed by 
the Americans. 


The Home-Coming of Admiral Dewey 
and the Increasing Enthusiasm of the Nation 


Admiral Dewey is fulfilling his promise to loiter along 
home as quietly as possible. Never was a hero more strongly 
opposed to the plaudits which go with heroism. 

In his many letters to some of the innumerable invitations 
which have reached him by mail, by wire and by person, 
he has always expressed his desire to escape anything like 
ovations; and while he has promised the people of his own 
State, and some old comrades whose importunities he could 
not be deaf to, to be their guest, he has very skillfully left 
in each letter a convenient loophole from which to escape 
when the time comes, if he desires to do so. There is no 
question that the whole Nation would, if it could, meet him 
at the wharf, shake him by the hand, and carry him to his 
hotel on its shoulders. As he draws nearer home the feeling 
of enthusiasm grows more intense day by day. 


Retiring Annuities for 
Teachers in Small Cities 


Massachusetts now has two associations for providing 
annuities for retired public school teachers—one for Boston 
teachers only, the other and the youngest for the teachers in 
the cities and towns. The last is believed to be the only 
guild organized by the union of small cities and towns 

Though scarcely six years old, the Teachers’ Annuity Guild 
has a permanent fund of over $51,000 and an annuity fund 
exceeding $10,000. Last year the receipts aggregated more 
than $13,000 and the annuities nearly $9400. The annuity 
fund receives eighty per cent. of the income of the permanent 
fund at present. 

it is provided that annuities shall be sixty per cent. of the 
annual salary at the time of retirement, with a limit of $600, 
The present assessment is one per cent. of annual salary, 
with a limit of $20 per annum, which it is proposed to reduce 
to $10. 

A similar plan has been adopted in a number of large cities 
in the country; but the Teachers’ Annuity Guild may be 
taken as a model for a combination of small places that indi- 
vidually would be unable to do anything to aid teachers worn 
out in the public service. 


A One Hundred and Fifty 
Million Dollar Steel Contract 


In July the largest contract ever made for steel was 
closed between the Pressed Steel Car Company and the 
Carnegie Steel Company. The amount was $150,000,000, 
calling for tooo tons of steel plates a day for the next ten 
years, or 4,600,000 tons in all. 

The iron and steel boom has gone far beyond all previous 
records. No better illustration could be found for 
the wonderful increase in this great industry than the fact 
that fifty years ago the consumption of pig iron was equiv 
alent to 100 tons per head of population, while now it is over 
400, and is growing all the time. 

It was pointed out years ago that the price of pig iron 
largely regulated the country’s prosperity, and Mr. G. H. 
Hull has recently shown in an article that the periods of pig 
iron and good times generally come at intervals of about ten 
years. The last one was 1889, and the present year is 
keeping up the record. 


The Policy of Fooling 
the Nation While War is Going On 


We made a great deal of fun of Weyler and Blanco 
when with their typewriters they wrought victories never 
achieved by arms; but recently our jests have come home to 
roost, for it is practically admitted that the official represen 
tations of operations in the Philippines have been unduly 
optimistic. So severe was the censorship that the eleven 
correspondents representing the leading newspapers and the 
press associations of the world joined in a ‘‘ round robin” 
to General Otis, and, failing to reach their ends, sent their 
statement from Manila ever to Hongkong, whence it was 
cabled to the world. 

After giving the reasons why they did not desire to par 
ticipate in the misrepresentations, they closed with the 
following summary: 

SreciricaTions: Prohibition of hospital reports ; suppression 

of full reports of field operations in the event of failure ; 

numbers of heat prostrations in the field ; systematic minimiza- 

tion of naval operations, and suppression of complete reports of 
the situation. 

In the operations around Santiago a ‘‘ round robin,’’ 
although it made some people unhappy, cleared the air and 
led to the quick solution of a desperate situation. In a 
different way, but none the less effectively, this second 
‘‘round robin’’ reached its purpose, and the wisdom of 
letting the people know the truth was illustrated anew. In 
the business of war, soldiers hold that it is often necessary to 
distort facts, but a long-continued policy of suppression or 
exaggeration generally leads to serious and often damaging 
reaction. In the present instance, while the action of the 
correspondents received no official recognition, it practically 
accomplished its purpose 


SATURDAY EVENING 


THE 


The Campaign Issues of 1900 


From a Republican Standpoint 


months 
the 


tour during the last six 
less in 


In a long lecture 


eled extensively through the West, somewhat 


Republicans generally would like to have it so, and may 
ignore it, particularly if they have the first convention, But 
neither the Silver party, the Populists nor the Chicago plat 
form Democracy will let that issue die out. It is true that 
the influx of gold has been abundant, and has given great 
satisfaction to the straightforward, out-and-out gold standard 
advocates. Yet nobody else feels assured that there is yet 
gold enough for the world’s entire use 

The Democratic issue, or even the combination issue, may 
not press the old figures of sixteen-to-one, but they will claim 
fair play for silver; because, right or wrong, the ordinary 
common people of the country have a fixed belief that silver 
untrammeled can somehow relieve all that stringency which 
the single gold standard is supposed to have produced 

The Republicans promised to do all in their power to 
secure the old common recognition of beth gold and silver by 


GENERAL O, O, HOWARD 


other nations. The Administration carried out its promise, 
but its commission to Europe failed in its accomplishment. 
There is little question but that there will be a strong 
restatement of these monetary contentions in the new 
Democratic platform, And should the Democratic convention 
get the start, the Republican may be forced to take the bona 
fide single gold standard. We shall see 

The Spanish war was justified by more than nine-tenths 
of the people. Party lines were soon forgotten. I do not 
believe that the few malcontents and extreme peace men can 
muster force enough to produce any sensible effect, or be able 
to introduce a plank into an opposing platform which shall 
condemn the Republican party for this war. In fact, the 
Democratic convention, whatever may be its complexion, will 
justify the war, and in the main recognize the magnificent 
record of both the Army and the Navy. 

There was deliberate action on the part of political leaders 
of the Democracy to secure an issue against the Republican 
Administration, which did not, however, involve the inter 
vention, the honor of the Army and Navy during the struggle, 
or the splendid treaty which was consequent upon the conflict 
This deliberate action showed itself first in the imputation of 
Imperialism, second in the cry of misconduct of parties in the 
War Department causing sickness in the camps, the issuing 
of improper rations, and the making, especially in the Staff, 
of bad political appointments 


This entire matter is still talked of with much sorrow and 
hundreds of thousands believe that somebody is responsible 
for the sickness and loss of life from it, occurring far beyond 
any presumable necessity In spite of this complaining, I 
find but few persons who blame the President himself 

Probably the political appointments, the ‘‘ meat question,’’ 
and other complaints will secure a plank in the new opposi 
tion platform, to the effect that had the Democrats been in 
power the Army and Navy would have been organized better, 
and the work would have been done with less loss and with 
more satisfaction to the people of the land. Such a plank, 
however, would be weak, for the answer can be made at once 
and with truth that the war, even including the Philippine 
outbreak, has thus far been « success, and such a success as 
has never before been witnessed in the history of the world 

We come now to speak of a matter that will surely divide 
our people. It is what is called Imperialism, and involves 


POST 


HISTORY 


have trav 
South, 
lately through all the New England States, and have had unusual oppor 
tunities of conversation with people of all classes and of all opinions 

I do not think that the money question is by any means a settled issue 


119 


and 


To be con 
sistent, the anti-expansionists will be obliged to oppose the 
retention of anything more than coaling stations in Hawaii, 


an expansion of territory beyond the old limits 


Cuba, Porto Rico and all the Philippine Islands, They may 
declare their policy to offer absolute independence to each 

The Republicans, on the contrary, can say the war was 
justifiable; that it has been conducted most successfully in 
accordance with international law and the usage of nations; 
that the destruction of the Spanish fleet and the capture of 
the Spanish armies in the Philippines were necessary inci 
dents of the war, while the subsequent difficulties with 
Aguinaldo and his people could not in any way have been 
avoided The Administration, while the treaty was under 
discussion, extended, through a quasi peace commission, and 
through General Otis and Admiral Dewey, all civil rights, 
even complete autonomy, so far as Luzon was concerned, to 
Aguinaldo and his coadjutors, No counter plans or offers 
were ever formulated or extended by the Filipinos to our 
representatives At last, after the treaty was ratified and 
the jurisdiction belonged to the United States, war was de 
liberately prepared by the insurgents 

The Administration claims it to be a plain duty, an im 
perative obligation, to assert jurisdiction and maintain 
sovereignty till all armed insurrection shall cease I believe 
that the Republicans will have the great majority of our 
people with them on this issue 

As the great monopolies and trusts are throwing out of 
employment, little by little all over the country, a large num 
ber of employees, who go forth to swell the discontented and 
unemployed, it is probable that both parties will make a 
strong declaration against trusts, and perhaps submit some 
general method of limiting their scope and holdings 

The feeling is widespread that we ought to have for our 
Civil Service a stronger basis with a firmer structure 

The impressions I gain in the sentiments of the people are 
to the effect that the Republican party will have the advan 
tage, and will elect its President in tgoo, and that, in this 
result, good times will be maintained 


6 ONO ae 


Captain Todd’s Explorations 
in the Great Valley of the Amazon 


One of the greatest trips of exploration and investiga 
tion made in recent years was the voyage of the United States 
Steamship Wilmington, which proceeded 2300 miles up the 
Amazon and examined the topography and resources of the 
country, Captain Todd has submitted his report and it is 
full of useful information, The climate is oppressive and 
malarious, Most of the native houses are built on piles 

In the rainy season the Valley of the Amazon, which is an 
immense area of low-lying land, is flooded, It does not pro 
duce enough to feed the population, many of whom live on 
canned goods and other imported foods, The great industry 
is rubber. No systematic attempt is made to cultivate the 
rubber trees, and it is suggested by the commander and his 
staff that measures be taken by the Governments of the various 
States along the Amazon to cultivate the trees on plantations 
in order to provide against the extinction of the industry 


A Silly Summer Craze 
Over an Imaginary Kissing-Bug 


Every summer seems to have its bit of idiocy. For many 
seasons the sea serpent disported its imaginary self in many 
forms and places, Two years ago fanciful airships were 
flying through the heavens and descending to land 

This summer the craze is the kissing-bug, and, as a conse 
quence, the entomologists of the country have been distracted 
by all sorts of insects sent to be recognized as the new terror 
There have undoubtedly been cases of painful swellings from 
insect bites, but when the blood is not in the right condition, 
the probe of a mosquito, or even the bite of a fly, will cause a 
swelling that seems abnormal, Such cases have helped the 
kissing- bug craze, but all the same the kissing-bug is a 
clever hoax which the writers for the daily newspapers have 
exploited to brighten up the dog days 


The Credit of the Idea 
for Sending the Spaniards Home 


Following his resignation as Secretary of War, Mr 
Russell A. Alger gave out a statement in which he claimed 
all the credit for the disposition of the Spanish prisoners 
after the capture at Santiago. He stated that by his action 
in accepting the offer of the Spanish Transatlantic Company 
for transporting the men to Spain, which was less than one 
half of that of the syndicate formed in New York, he saved 
the Government $800,000, As this was ar unique act which 
had a bearing upon the war, the credit of it is important. 


Note—The Campeign Issues of tg0o from a Democratic Stand- 
point will be published in the Post later. 


THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


hat Hap 
4 By B 


Wd . 


ened at the Fonda. 
RET HARTE 4. 


atlas ARLES Ce Pah Ve Read v —" ts 
3) is oe iT et RY * ; “ 
Dd Os PAE Bite ge eae he, y 


PART Il 
HE next afternoon he 
a 8 went to the fonda 
Situated on the out 
skirts of the town which had 
long outgrown it, it still 
bore traces of its former im 
portance as a hacienda, or 
smaller farm, of one of the 
old Spanish landholders 
The patio, or central courtyard, still existed as a stableyard 
for carts, and even one or two horses were tethered to the 
railings of the inner corridor, which now served as an open 
veranda to the fonda, or inn, The opposite wing was utilized 
as tienda, or general shop-—a magazine for such goods as 
were used by the Mexican inhabitants—and belonged also to 
Ramierez. 

Ramierez himself—round-whiskered and Sancho Panza 
like in build—-welcomed him with fat, perfunctory urbanity 
The fonda and all it contained was at his disposicion 

The Sefiora coquettishly bewailed, in rising and falling 
inflections, his long absence and general perfidiousness 
Truly he was growing great in writing of the affairs of his 
nation-—he could no longer see his humble friends! Ah! 
the way of the world! Yet not long ago—truly that very 
week-——there was the head impresor of Don Pancho’s imprenta 
himself who had been there! 

A great man, of a certainty, and they must take what they 
could get! They were only poor innkeepers; when the 
Governor came not they must welcome the A/cade, To 
which the editor—otherwise Don Pancho—replied with equal 
eflusion He had indeed recommended the fonda to his 
impresor, who was but a courier before him, But what was 
this? The impresor had been ravished at the sight of a beau 
tiful girl—a mere muchacha—yet of a beauty that deprived 
the senses-—this angel-—clearly the daughter of his friend! 


» 


Here was the old miracle of the orange in full fruition and 
the lovely fragrant blossom all on the same tree—at the 
fonda. And this had been kept from him! 

" Yes, it was but a thing of yesterday,’ said the Sefiora, 
obviously pleased) ‘' The muchacha—ior she was but that— 
had just returned from the convent at San 
José, where she had been for four years. Ah! 
what would you? The fonda was no place 


for the child, who should know only the litany — 
of the Virgin—and they had kept her there 
And now-—that 


she was home 
again—she cared 
only for the 
horse. From 
morning to 
night! Caudal 
leros might come 
and go! There 


might be a festi 
val—all the same 
to her, it made 
nothing if she 
had the horse to 
ride! Even now 
she was with one 
in the fields 
Would Don 
Pancho attend 
and see Cota and 
her horse?"’ 
The editor 
amilingly as 
sented, and ac 
companied his 
hostess along the 
corridor to a 
few steps which 
brought them to 
the level of the 
open meadows of 
the old farm in 
closure. A slight 
white figure on 
horseback was \ 
careering in the 
distance, At a 
signal from Mrs. 
Ramieres it 
wheeled and 
came down 
rapidly toward 
them, But when 
within a hundred 
yards the horse 
was suddenly pulled up vaguero fashion, and the little figure 
leaped off and advanced toward them on foot, leading the horse 
To his surprise, Mr. Grey saw that she had been riding 
barebacked, and from her discreet halt at that distance he 
half suspected-—-asiride / His effusive compliments to the 
mother in this exhibition of skill were sincere, for he was 
struck by her fearlessness. But when both horse and rider 
at last stood before him he was speechless and embarrassed. 


* 


For Richards had not exaggerated the girl's charms. She 
was indeed dangerously pretty, from her little tawny head to 
her small feet, and her figure, although comparatively dimin 
utive, was perfectly proportioned. Gray-eyed and blonde 
as she was in color, her racial peculiarities were distinct, and 
only the good-humored and enthusiastic Richards could have 
likened her to an American girl. But he was the more 
astonished in noticing that her mustang was as distinct and 
peculiar as herself—a mongrel mare of the extraordinary 
type known as a “ pinfo,’’ or ‘‘ calico’’ horse, mottled in 
lavender and pink, and half broken! Her greenish gray 
eyes, in which too much of the white was visible, had, he 
fancied, a singular similarity of expression to Cota’s own! 

Utterly confounded, and staring at the girl in her white, 
many-flounced frock, bare head and tawny braids, as she 


Copyright, 1499, in Great Britain, by Bret Harte 


stood beside this incarnation of equine barbarism, Grey 
could remember nothing like it out of a circus. He stam 
mered a few words of admiration of the mare. Miss Cota 
threw out her two arms with a graceful gesture and a pro 
found curtsy and said 
‘' A la disposicion de le Usted, Sefior 
Grey was quick to understand the malicious mischief 
which underlay this formal curtsy and danced in the girl's 
eyes, and even fancied it shared by the animal itself. But 
he was a singularly good rider of untrained stock, and rather 
proud of his prowess. He bowed 
“T*accept that I may have the 
Sefiorita’s gift again at her little feet 
But here’ « burly Ramierez intervened 
fly away with all this 
nonsense! I will 
have no more of it!’’ 
he said impatiently 
to the girl. ‘' Have 
a care, Don Pancho,"’ 
he turned to the 
editor; “it is a 
trick!’’ 


honor of laying the 


** May the devil 


» 


“One I think I 
know,'’ said Grey 
sapiently. The girl 
looked at him curi 
ously as he managed 
to edge between her 
and the mustang, 
under the pretense of 
stroking its glossy 
neck ‘I shall keep 
my own spurs,’’ he 
said, pointing to the 
sharp, small-roweled 
American spurs he 
wore, instead of the 
large, blunt, five 
pointed star of the 
Mexican pattern. 


The girl did not 
evidently understand 
him then—though she 
did a moment later! 
For, without attempt 
ing tocatch hold of the 
mustang’s mane, Grey 
in a single leap threw 
himself across its back 
The animal, utterly 
unprepared, was at first 
stupefied. But by this 
time her rider had his 
seat. He felt her sen- 
sitive spine arch like 
a cat's beneath him as 
she sprang rocket-wise 
into the air. 


Vel nothing could be 
more captivating 
than her simple and 
childish curiosily, as 
she watched Richards 
swing the lever of his » 
press, or stood by his 
side as he marshaled 
the type into files on his 
** composing stick’ 


But here she was 
mistaken! Instead of 
clinging tightly to her 
flanks with the inner 
side of his calves, after 
the old vaguero fashion 
to which she was accustomed, he dropped his spurred heels 
into her sides and allowed his body to rise with her spring, 
and the cruel spur to cut its track upward from her belly 
almost to her back. 

She dropped like a shot, he dexterously withdrawing his 
spurs, and regaining his seat, jarred but not discomfited 
Again she essayed a leap; the spurs again marked its height 
in a scarifying track along her smooth barrel. She tried a 
third leap, but this time dropped half way as she felt the 
steel scraping her side, and then stood still trembling. Grey 
leaped off! 

There was a sound of applause from the innkeeper and 
his wife, assisted by a lounging vaguero in the corridor 
Ashamed of his victory, Grey turned apologetically to Cota 
To his surprise she glanced indifferently at the trickling 
sides of her favorite, and only regarded him curiously 

‘* Ah,’’ she said, drawing in her breath, ‘‘ you are strong— 
and you comprehend!"’ 

“It was only a trick for a trick, Sefiorita,’’ he replied, 
reddening. ‘‘ Let me look after those scratches in the stable,’’ 
he added, as she was turning away, leading the agitated and 
excited animal toward a shed in the rear. 

He would have taken the riaéa which she was still holding, 
but she motioned him to precede her. He did so by a few 
feet, but he had scarcely reached the stable door before she 


172 


Volume 2, No. 8 


suddenly caught him roughly by the shoulders and, shoving 
him into the entrance, slammed the door upon him 

Amazed and a little indignant, he turned in time to hear a 
slight sound of scuffling outside, and to see Cota reenter 
with a flushed face 

“ Pardon, Sefior,’’ said quickly, 
might have kicked you Rest tranquil 
servant he has taken her away 

She pointed to a slouching feon with a malevolent face, 
who was angrily driving the mustang toward the corral 

‘Consider it no more! I was rude! Santa Maria! I 
almost threw you, too; but’ added with a dazzling 
smile, ‘‘ you must not punish me as you have her! For you 
are very strong—and you comprehend.”’ 


» 


But Grey did not comprehend, and with a few hurried 
apologies he managed to escape his fair but uncanny 
tormentor Besides, this unlooked-for incident had driven 
from his mind the moge important object of his visit—the 
discovery of the assailants of Richards and- Colonel 
Starbottle 

His inquiries of the Kamierez produced no result. Sefior 
Ramierez was not aware of any suspicious loiterers among 
the frequenters of the fonda, and, except from some drunken 
American or 
Irish revelers, he 
had been free of 
disturbance. 

Ah! the peon 
—an old vaguero 

-was not an 
angel, truly, but 
he was danger- 
ous only to the 
bull and the wild 
horses—and he 
was afraid even 
of Cota! Mr 
Grey was fain to 
ride home empty 
of information 

He was. still 
more concerned 
a week later, on 
returning unex 
pectedly one 
afternoon to his 
sanctum, to hear 
a musical, child 
ish voice in the 
composing 
room. 


- ® 

It was Cota! 
She was there, 
as Richards ex- 
plained, on his 
invitation, to 
view the marvels 
and mysteries of 
printing at atime 
when they would 
not be likely to 


I feared she 
for the 


but 
however, 


she 


she 


‘“‘disturb Mr 
Grey at his 
work.”’ But the 


beaming face of 
Richards and the 
simple tender 
ness of his blue 
eyes plainly re 
vealed the sud- 
den growth of an 
evidently sincere 
passion, and the 
unwonted splen- 
dors of his best clothes showed how carefully he had pre- 
pared for the occasion 

Grey was worried and perplexed, believing the girl a 
malicious flirt. Yet nothing could be more captivating than 
her simple and childish curiosity, as she watched Richards 
swing the lever of the press, or stood by his side as he 
marshaled the type into files on his ‘‘ composing stick.’’ 
He had even printed a card with her name: “‘ Sefiorita Cota 
Ramierez,'’ the type of which had been set up, to the accom- 
paniment of ripples of musical laughter, by her little brown 
fingers. 

The editor might have become quite sentimental and 
poetical had he not noticed that the gray eyes which often 
rested tentatively and meaningly on himself, even while 
apparently listening to Richards, were more than ever like 
the eyes of the mustang on whose scarred flanks her glance 
had wandered so coldly 

He withdrew presently so as not to interrupt his foreman’s 
innocent /4/e-a-/é/e, but it was not very long after that Cota 
passed him on the high road with the pin/o horse in a gallop, 
and blew him an audacious kiss from the tips of her fingers. 

For several days afterward Richards’ manner was tinged 
with a certain reserve on the subject of Cota, which the editor 
attributed to the delicacy of a serious affection, but he was 
surprised also to find that his foreman’s eagerness to discuss 
his unknown assailant had somewhat abated Further 
discussion regarding it naturally dropped, and the editor 
was beginning to ‘ose his curiosity when it was suddenly 
awakened by a chance incident 


® 


An intimate friend and old companion of his—one 
Enriquez Seltillo—had diverged from a mountain trip espe 
cially to call upon him. Enriquez was a scion of one of the 
oldest Spanish-California families, and, in addition to his 
friendship for the editor, it pleased him also to affect an 
intense admiration of American ways and habits, and even 
to combine the current California slang with his native 
precision of speech—and a certain ironical levity still more 
his own. 

It seemed, therefore, quite natural to Mr. Grey to find him 
seated with his feet on the editorial desk, his hat cocked on 
the back of his head, reading the Clarion exchanges. But 
he was up in a moment and had embraced Grey with charac 
teristic effusion. 

“1 find myself, my leetle brother, but an hour ago, two 
leagues from this spot! I say to myself, ‘Hola! It is the 
home of Don Pancho—my friend! I shall find him com 
posing the magnificent editorial leader, collecting the 
subscription of the big pumpkin and the great gooseberry, or 
‘gouging out’ the eye of the rival editor, at which I shall 


He stopped and 
“it a cigarette 
withoul changing 
his odd expression 


August 19, 1899 


assist! I hesitate no longer; I fly on the instant, and I am 
here 

Grey was delighted. Saltillo knew the Spanish popula 
tion thoroughly—his and their Mexican 
and Indian allies. If any one could solve the mystery of the 
Ramierez fonda and discover Richards’ unknown assailant, 
it washte/’ But Grey contented first, with a few 
brief inquiries concerning the beautiful Cota and her anony 
mous with the Ramierez Enriquez was as 
briefly communicative 

* Of your suspicions, my leetle brother, you are right—on 
the half! That leetle ange! of a Cota is, without doubt, the 
daughter of the adorable Sefiora Ramierez.’ 

‘* Don’t speak so loud. The foreman in the other room is 
an enthusiastic admirer of the girl In fact, it is on his 


account that I am making these inquiries.’ 


2 


“ Ah, the gentleman of the pan/uflos, whose trousers will 
not remain! I have seen him, my friend Truly he has the 
ambition excessif to arrive from the bed to go to the work 
without the the wash But,’’ in recognition of 
Grey’s half-serious impatience, ‘‘ remain tranquil. Oh him 
I shall not go back! Ihavesaid! The friend of my friend is 
ever the same as my friend! He is truly not seducing to the 
eye—but without doubt he will arrive a Governor or a 
Senator in good time. I shall gif to him my second cousin 
It is feenish! I will tell him now!’’ 

He attempted to rise, but was held down by Grey 

** I’ve half a mind to let you do it and get chucked through 
the window for your pains,’’ said the editor with a half 
laugh. ‘‘ Listen tome. This is a serious matter.’’ 

And Grey briefly recounted the incident of the mysterious 
attacks on Starbottle and Richards. As he proceeded he 
noticed, however, that the ironical 
light died out of Enriquez’ eyes and 
a singular thoughtfulness, yet unlike 
his usual precise gravity, came over 


Own superior race 


himself, at 


association 


dress or 


THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


manner; nothing, indeed, but a sincerity and anxiety usually 
rare with his temperament. I[t struck him, that his 
speech had but little of the odd California slang which was 
always a part of his imitative levity He was puzzled 
Do you mean to say that superstition is 
known?'’ he asked after a pause 
Among my people 
And do you believe in it? 
Then he arose, shrugged his shoul 
It is not more difficult to comprehend 


also 


this well 


yes 


Enriquez was silent 
ders, ‘' Outen sabe? 
than your Story.’’ 

He gravely put on his hat. With it he seemed to have put 
on his old levity ** Come, behold, it is a long time between 
drinks! Let us to the hotel and the bar keep, who shall give 
us the smash of brandy and the julep of mints before the 
lasso of Friar Pedro shall prevent us the swallow. Let us 
skedaddie!’’ 

Mr, Grey returned to the Clarion office in a 
satisfied condition of mind Whatever faith he 
Enriquez’ sincerity, for the first time since the attack 
Colonel Starbottle he believed he had found a really legit 
imate journalistic opportunity in the incident. The legend 
and its singular coincidence with the outrages would make 
capital ‘* copy 


much more 
held in 
on 


a” 


No names would be mentioned, yet even if Colonel 
Starbottle recognized his own adventure he could not possibly 
object to this interpretation of it. The editor had found that 
few people objected to be the hero of a ghost story or the 
favored witness of a spiritual manifestation. Nor could 
Richards find fault with this view of his own experience, 
hitherto kept a secret, so long as it did not refer to his rela 
tions with the fair Cota. Summoning him at once to his 


121 


In a flash of recollection the editor remembered his own 
experience and the singular scuffle outside the stable door of 


the fonda Undoubtedly, Cota had saved him from a similar 


attack 
‘ But why not tell this story with the other?’’ said the 
editor, returning to his first idea ‘It's tremendously 


interesting.’’ 
‘Tt won't do, 
‘Why? 
Because, Mr 


"' said Richards with dogged resolution 


Grey—that fool was myself!'’ 
gy 


‘You! 
Yes,’"’ 


Again attacked!’ 


said Richards with a darkening face. ‘‘ Again 


attacked, and by the same hoas! Cota’s hoss! Whether 
Cota was or was not knowin’ its tricks, she was actually 
furious at me for killing it—and it's all over ‘twixt me 


and her 

‘* Nonsense! ’’ said the editor impulsively. ‘‘ She will for 
give you. You didn’t know your assailant was a horse when 
you fired Look at the attack on you in the road! 

Richards shook his head with dogged hopelessness. ‘' It's 
no use, Mr. Grey I oughter guessed it was a hoss then 
thar was nothin’ else in that corral No! Cota’s already 
gone away back to San José, and I reckon the Ramierez has 
got scared of her and packed her off. So, on account of its 
bein’ Aer hoss and what happened ‘twixt me and her, you 
see my mouth is shut.’’ 

‘*And the columns of the Clarion, too,’’ 
with a sigh 

‘* IT know it’s hard, sir, but it’s better so! I've reckoned 
mebbe she was a little crazy; and, since you've told me that 
Spanish yarn, it mout be that she was sort o' playin’ she was 
that priest, and trained that mustang ez she did,”’ 

After a pause something of his old 
self came back into his blue eyes as 
he sadly hitched up his braces and, 
passed them over his broad shoulders, 
‘Yes, sir, | was a fool, for we've 


said the editor 


his face. He twirled the ends of his 
penciled mustache—an unfailing sign 
of Enriquez’ emotion 
‘* The same accident that arrive to 
two men that shall be as opposite as 
the gallant Starbottle and the excel 
lent Richards shall not prove that it 
come from Ramierez, though they 
both were at the fonda,’’ he said 
gravely. ‘‘ The cause of it have not 
come to-day nor yesterday, nor last 
week. The cause of it have arrive 
before there was any gallant Star 
bottle or excellent Richards; before 
there was any American in California 
-before you and I, my leetle 
brother, have lif! The cause happen 
first—/wo hundred years ago /"' 
The editor’s start of impatient in- 
credulity was checked by the unmis- 
takable sincerity of Enriquez’ face. 
‘Tt is so,’’ he went on gravely; ‘* it 
is an old story—it is a long story. I 
shall make him short—and new."’ 
He stopped and lit a cigarette 
without changing his odd expression 


g 


‘It was when the Padres first have 
the mission and take the heathen 
and convert him—and save his soul 
It was their business, you com 
prehend, my Pancho? The more 
heathen they convert, the more soul 
they save But the heathen do not 
always wish to be ‘convert’; the 
heathen fly, the heathen skedaddle 

tle heathen will not remain, or 
will backslide. What will you do? 
So the holy fathers make a little 
game. You do not of a possibility 
comprehend how the holy fathers 
make a convert, my leetle brother ?’’ 
he added gravely 

‘* No,"’ said the editor 

‘*T shall tell to you. They take 
from the Presidio five or six dragons 
-you comprehend—the cavalry 
soldiers—and they pursue the heathen 


from his little hut. When they can THE GRIP 

not surround him and he fly, they AND 

catch him with the lasso, like the 

wild hoss. The lasso catch him TOP O° HIM. 
around the neck; he is obliged to WORK HIMSELF 
remain. You believe not, Pancho? 

I see you wrinkle the brow—you 


flash the eye; you like it not? Believe 
me, I like it not neither—but it is so!’’ 

He shrugged his shoulders, threw 
away his half-smoked cigarette and went on 
a Padre who have the zeal excessif for the saving of soul, 
when he find the heathen—who is a young girl—have escape 
the soldiers, he of himself have seize the lasso and flung it! 
He is lucky; he catch her—but look you! She stop not— 
she still fly! She not only fly, but of a surety she drag the 
good Padre with her! He cannot loose himself, for his riata 
is fast to the saddle; the dragoons cannot help, for he is drag 


“One time 


so fast. On the instant she have gone—and so have the 
Padre. For why? It is not a young girl he have lasso 
but the devil! You comprehend—it is a punishment—a 


And forever! 


o 


For every year he must come back a spirit—on a spirit 
hoss—and swing the lasso, and make as if to catch the 
heathen. He is condemn ever to play his little game; now 
there is no heathen more to convert, he catch what he can. 
My grandfather have once seen him— it is night and a storm, 
and he pass by likeaflash! My grandfather like it not—he is 
much dissatisfied! My uncle have seen him, too, but he 
make the sign of the cross and the lasso have fall to the side, 
and my uncle have much gratification. A vaguero of my 
father and a peon of my cousin have both been picked up 
lassoed and dragged dead 

** Many peoples have died of him inthe strangling. Some 
time he is seen, sometime it is the woman only that one sees 
—sometime it is but the hoss. But ever somebody is dead— 
strangle! Of a truth, my friend, the gallant Starbottle and 
the ambitious Richards have just escaped! ’’ 

The editor looked curiously at his friend. 
the slightest suggestion of mischief or irony in his tone or 


retribution—he is feenish! 


There was not 


HELD ON FOR A 


THEN LOOSENED, 
SOMETHIN SLUMPED DOWN ON 
BUT 


A¥ Pity 


MINIT 


AND THt 


HE MANAGED TO 


AROUND’ 


sanctum, he briefly repeated the story he had just heard, and 


his purpose of using it. To his surprise, Richards’ face 
assumed a Seriousness and anxiety equal to Enriquez’ own 
‘It's a good story, Mr. Grey,’’ he said awkwardly, ‘‘ and 


I ain't sayin’ it ain't mighty good newspaper stuff, but it 
won't do now For the mystery’s up and the assailant found.”’ 


og 


‘Found! When? Why didn’t 
exclaimed Grey in astonishment. 

‘1 didn’t reckon ye were so keen on it,’’ said Richards 
embarrassedly, ‘‘ and—it wasn't my own secret alone 


you tell me before?" 


‘Go on,’ said the editor impatiently 
‘Well,’’ said Richards slowly and doggedly, " ye see 
there was 4 fool that was sweet on Cota, and he allowed 


himself to be bedeviled by her to ride her cursed pink-and 
yaller mustang. Naturally, the beast bolted at once, but he 
managed to hang on by the mane for half a mile or so, when 
it took to buck-jumping. The first ‘buck’ threw him clean 
into the road, but didn’t stun him, yet when he tried to rise 
the first thing he knowed he was grabbed from behind and 
half choked by somebody. He was held so tight that he 
couldn’t turn, but he managed to get out his revolver and 
fire two shots under his arm. The grip held on for a minit, 
and then loosened, and the somethin’ slumped down on top o 
him, but he managed to work himself around. And then 

what do you think he saw ?—why, that thar hose! with two 
bullet holes in his neck, lying beside him, but still grippin’ 
his coat collar and neck-handkercher in his teeth! Yes, 
sir! the rough that attacked Kernel Starbottle, the villain 
that took me behind when I was leaning agin that cursed 
fence, was that same God-forsaken, hell-invented fin/o hoss!"’ 


lost the only bit of real sensation 
news that ever came in the way of 
the Clarion."’ 


(THE END) 


Lt 


A Real-Life Spoopendyke 


Four TEEN years after his death 

the writings of the late Stanley 
Huntley have been resurrected from 
their newspaper tomb and presented 
anew to the world between book cov 


ers. Stanley Huntley was as original 
a character as his Spoopendyke, He 
was a lawyer in New York in the 


Sixties, a reporter, Newspaper corre 
spondent and editor in Chicago and 
Dakota in the seventies, and a 
humorist on the leading paper in his 
native city in the eighties, He gave 
to Bismarck, Dakota, its only fame 
by editing the Tribune of that place, 
and he found and interviewed Sit 
ting Bull for the Chicago Tribune, 
in his hiding-place in British 
America, after the Custer massacre, 
His entrance to journalism is worthy 
of record 

Huntley had tired of law, 
sought employment upon the New 
York Tribune early in 1870. His 
first assignment was to report a 
meeting to discuss a proposed 
insurance law. As Huntley was an 
authority on insurance law, he made 
a good story out of it, and the next 
day he saw it on the first page of the 
paper. His second assignment was 
to cover a meeting of the Farmers’ 
Club which, then as now, met in 
Cooper Union, As a rule, the club, 
which comprised several professional 
gentlemen who knew even less of 
agriculture than they did of other 
things, discussed optical maladies 
in early potatoes, and aural affix 
tions in late corn, and such peaceful 
topics, but on this occasion temper 
was aroused and the meeting ended 
in a free fight 

Huntley wrote a vivid and 
quent account of the affair, sparing 
noone, When he finished writing, 


and 


the city editor being absent, he 
thrust the copy into a chute and 
sent it whirring to the printers Then he went home 


Early the next morning he found the story on the first page 
without the alteration of a letter, To say that he was proud 
feebly expresses his conceit He even showed it when he 
went down to the office at noon, Before he had been there 
long the city editor called to him 

‘*Mr. Huntley, Mr. Greeley wants to see you 

Thereupon Huntley walked out of the room with a con 
scious strut, while the other and wiser reporters smiled, Mr 
Greeley was in his paper-littered den on the floor below, and 
the door was ajar, Within sat the old man in his shirt 
sleeves, deep in an editorial. Huntley knocked 

‘Come in,'’ called out Mr, Greeley in his high, squeaky 
voice Huntley went in 

‘' Well, sir! Well, sir! 
the chief impatiently 

‘I’m Huntley, sir,’’ said the reporter, straightening up 


a 


‘Oh!’ answered the old editor, nodding his head. ‘ So 
you're the infernal idiot that wrote that Farmers’ 
Club story?'’ Huntley flushed, as he said that he was 

‘' What did you do with your copy?’’ 

"I didn’t copy it I wrote it all myself,’’ 

“ Young man,'’ put in the editor in a softened voice, ‘‘ how 
long have you been on this paper?’’ 

*' Forty-eight hours, sir; and that 
word of it, and if they deny it, I'll 

"No, you won't They haven't denied it. They are the 
blamedest lot of idiots alive. But you shouldn't have said it 
in this paper, sir, Indeed, you really should not, I am the 
President of that club.’’ 


Who the devil are you?"’ asked 


article is true-—-every 


SATURDAY 
EVENING 


GEORGE HORACE LORIMER, Editor 


$ 
THE CURTIS PUBLISHING COMPANY 


421 To 427 Ancnw Sreper, PHiLADeLenia 


August 19, 1809 
? 


$2.50 per Year by Subscription 
5 Cents a Copy at all Newsdealers’ 


9 


A New Order of Statesmanship 


N A RECENT change in the Cabinet, which, while 
having a good average of merit, has not been distin 
guished for greatness, it was freely admitted that the need 
was a man of large ability to handle the big questions with 
which the department would have to deal. It was a repeti 
tion of history, another instance of the many, where efficiency 
must step in when mere politics reaches its limitations. It 
was that way in the Civil War—it has been that way in 
many of our administrations. In other years large men were 
called in to handle crises; henceforth, statesmen will be 
needed every hour in the administration's term, 

It is not necessary to spurn the politician and the man who 
gets position by his ambition and his pockethook, for they 
have their uses and their privileges, but it is very necessary 
to recognize the supreme fact that smail men cannot direct 
the interests and manage the issues of a great Government 
that has cut loose from a long domesticity and wandered forth 
into the world. There is often more trouble—more legal 
and diplomatic entanglement—in a dispute over a little island 
that could be lost and not missed in one of our big States 
than there is in the running of a great department of govern- 
ment involving millions. These things will undoubtedly 
increase, and it is easy to see what a clear head and a long 
foresight in shaping the right beginnings now will mean in 
the future. The new statesmanship demands big men, 

At several stages of our growth we have had Presidents 
broad enough to call into the executive councils statesmen 
from both parties. Washington set the example. Lincoln 
followed it, The Nation to-day is ten times larger than in 
Washington's administration, more than twice larger than in 
Lincoln's time, and to increased size of population are added 
the questions of new possessions, new races, new relations 
with the powers of the earth, The time has come when our 
leaders at Washington must think more of the science of 
government than of the distribution of patronage, must look 
farther ahead than the next nominating convention, and must 
bend their best abilities to the shaping of a great, patient, 
progressive, and consistent national policy. Only states- 
manship can do this work. 

It may be too much yet a while to hope that the States 
will send their best men to the Senate and to the House of 
Representatives, or that the best men will always consent to 
give up large interests and incomes for the Congressional 
salary; but the inevitable effect of statesmanship in the exec 
utive and administrative branches of the Government will be 
steadily to invite statesmanship in the National Legisiature 
and the diplomatic corps. —LYNN ROBY MEEKINS. 


$¢ 


it is a good thing to join organizations, bul a man is not to 
be judged by the number af societies he belongs to. 


¢¢ 
Pessimism in Politics 


ILITARY men, and, in fact, all men who have been 
through an active campaign involving them in the 
various forms of battle, know the great value of confidence 
The officer who can inspire his men with a feeling that 
nothing can shake the integrity of the corps, the brigade, the 
company, will win his fight even against desperate odds. 
So, when the rank and file of their own espri/ de corps move 
as a single man and go into battle with all their voices 
blended and forespeaking victory, the commander catches the 
enthusiasm and leads with an irresistible inspiration of genius. 
Phil Sheridan and Stonewall Jackson moved their men and 
their men moved them. 

What is true in military operations holds equally good in 
civil affairs. What we call by the expansive name of patriot 
ism is but universal confidence in our form of government, in 
our national aspirations, and in the honor and political integ- 
rity of our people, Party spirit, the cohesive power of asso- 
ciation for the advancement of principles in which we have 
confidence, is valuable; but above this, and of broader and 
at the same time subtler significance, is the national spirit. 
We must believe in the whole country, in the people as a 
body, in the substance and spirit of our national organism. 
Education can really go no farther than this. What the 
people, as @ mass, estimate themselves to be, that is their 
actual value; for behind that estimate is its generating force, 
which measures ultimate capacity, 

The meaning of the line which our writing-teachers gave 
us for copy in our childhood, ‘‘We grow like what we 


THE SATURDAY EVENING 


contemplate,’’ is eminently true of the nation From the 
circulating maxims of our politicians we gradually form our 
political faith. If from infancy we are constantly taught to 
think of our Senators as men who buy their election, of our 
Presidents as officials who, chosen in corruption and inaugu 
rated by fraud, rule us by unconscionable methods, and of 
our courts as mere engines of oppression and injustice, how 
shall we ever so manipulate our politics that we can have 
full confidence in our Government? Every recognition of 
national rottenness is but the discovery of our own individual 
unsoundness 

Every reform must begin with the individual and spread 
from man to man In a word, education is the only road to 
safety. But education is largely the contact of mind with 
mind; books afford but a small part of it. What we coniess 
one to another, the estimate we set upon one another, the fine 
web of faith and confidence with which we weave our national 
cocoon, and the linking of hands by which the strength of us 
all combines into a single strain of patriotic force—these are 
the elements of true education. The man who talks against 
his own people confesses his own unsoundness; for it is 
hardly probable that he is better than the average The 
political pessimist must assume great superiority or plead 
guilty to viciousness. 

Genuine patriotism cannot be bounded by party lines; as 
well try to bound religion by the creed of a single church. 
The larger fact is always a sphere in which humanity takes 
on ite full stature. We must take counsel of the millions in 
order to understand a common aspiration, and the millions 
must not be taught to regard themselves as a frauduient mob, 
who every four years choose a scoundrel for President and a 
let of perjurers for Senators and Representatives. Better an 
optimistic jingoism than a flabby doctrine of universal dis 
honesty. The motto, “In union there is strength,’’ is but 
another way of expressing the value of ‘‘ a long pull, a strong 
pull, and a pull all together.’’ In the individual we have 
the unit of political power, and the individual must be pro- 
tected at all hazards; but the national chain of life can be no 
stronger than its weakest link, and it is the weakest link 
that we must look after. Our danger lies there. The man 
who goes about teaching the people to believe that official life 
is corrupt and corrupting, that our Government is inherently 
weak, that everything it does has its foundation in a disrep- 
utable job, and that every undertaking proposed by the 
administration—-no matter of what party—is sure to have 
corruption in view, is the worst enemy the Nation can meet. 
He it is who breaks the thread of popular faith and poisons 
the sources of political confidence, making patriotism a fun- 
bundle and by-word. —MAURICE THOMPSON. 

¢¢ 


Those statesmen who ave trying to smash the trusts by oratory 
evidently forget that the combines ave past perfect in the art of 
raising the wind, 


Being a Good Fellow 


T WAS publicly stated by a prominent clubman the other 
day, when a well-known candidate for admission to a 
social club was black-balled for the fourth time, that it was 
becoming more and more difficult for a man of pronounced 
character and aggressive convictions to obtain admission to 
any of the wealthy social clubs. Such a man almost always 
carries about with him a threat of disturbance to the well- 
coddied complaisance of compromising men. He awakens 
antagonisms which would find it very difficult to give an 
account of themselves. His very staunchness of character 
and his adherence to his own sense of duty, regardless of 
popular favor, are an annoyance to a coterie whose chief pur- 
pose in club life is to have no views and to accommodate 
itself lightly to all views, with the vacuity and tolerance that 
are supposed to be the sign-manual of culture. 

It may be taken for granted that a man who is not built so 
as to regard complaisance as the highest achievement of the 
social animal, and looks upon life and the mission of it as 
involving all sorts of conflicts and requiring a good deal of 
muscular mentality, is not going to make any great sacrifices 
to get into a coterie that has agreed to live and move and 
have its being so as to organize and celebrate ease and 
comfort. It must alsu be apparent that the coterie would 
rather do without him, and there will always be black balls 
thrown by timid conservatism to prevent him from disturbing 
existing conditions. The reply of such an objector would 
probably be: ‘‘ Oh! he is one of those clever and restless 
persons for whom special clubs are provided. We admire 
his ability, but he makes enemies, don’t you know.’’ All 
this is true enough, no doubt, and it seems to set forth the 
social desideratum, and announce that to be a good fellow 
one must not make enemies. 

We have several men of national reputation at this moment 
who appear to be the direct product of these social clubs, 
They have attained to something like international eminence 
by what may be called a gifted complaisance. There is not 
a social club mm the world that would not welcome them with 
open arms, for they carry all the amenities, graces and 
delights of volubility and wit and humor with them. But 
one might justly ask if they are not so polished down by the 
requirements of affability, and so adjusted to the polite 
accommodations of a club existence, that they would fail to 
fit a crisis with dominating candor. 

The man who makes no enemies is outside one of the most 
important of Biblical commands, which is to love his ene- 
mies, for how can he love them if he has none? Besides, a 
man ought to take some kind of pleasure in loving his ene- 
mies when they are of his own creation 

—A. C, WHEELER (NyM CRINKLE). 


$¢ 


Prosperity seldom reaches a section unless it has good roads 


to travel over 
$¢ 
A Wrong to the Ill 


N EFFECT of city life appears to be that it blinds people 

to other forms of existence. They apply city standards 

to everything. They appear to think that farmers should 

have stationary tubs, hot and cold water, sanitary plumbing, 

electric lights, elevators, a free mail delivery, and other 

things that a little reflection shows to be impracticable, at 

least at present; for of course the time will come when the 

farmer will have these things, just as he will have his auto- 
mobile and his air boat. 

Ordinarily, this affection toward the town and the gaging 
of all things by town standards is without practical effect, 
but it ought to be apparent that in certain matters it is carried 
too far. In nothing is it illustrated more surprisingly than 
in the retention of invalids and other helpless people in the 
cities, though every reason offered for the practice is over- 
slaughed by the potent ones of country economy and health. 


POST 


Volume 172, No. 8 


A typical instance is this: a charitable woman who gives 
not only her means but her time, her strength, her very life 
to the cause, has established in one of our largest cities a 
hospital for a certain class of patients—incurables. Now, 
had she gone ten or a dozen miles out of town she could have 
bought, out and out, a spacious farmhouse, or could have 
built a better house, for that matter, with two or three acres 
of ground about it, and this ground could have been put to 
use while it served as ornament 

All the vegetables and fruit needed by the institution 
could have been raised on the place and served fresh and 
wholesome, instead of faded and dusty, as they come from 
the city shops. Milk—real milk, with cream on it—could 
have been given by cows pastured in the vicinity. The air 
wou 'd always be invigorating in such a place, the nights cool, 
the sun and breeze would come in at the doors and windows, 
the waving of trees and the march of clouds could be seen 
by the patients as they looked up from their pillows 

But what does this excellent woman do? She rents, ata 
large figure, a house in the slums—a smal! house, dirty, 
unattractive, in a crowded, hot, airless, unpleasant and 
unhealthful part of the city, and takes the victims of a ter 
rible disease to end their days there! Then she finds it 
difficult to gain public support and sympathy for the move 
ment, and has trouble in paying off a mortgage, and 
engaging physicians and nurses to contribute their work. 

There is more to be considered than the matter of expense 
in reference to a country hospital. The patient is the first 
consideration. And does any one doubt that hundreds of 
wrecked, exhausted men and women die, amid the clamors 
and heat and miasm of the town, who could have been re- 
stored to usefulness by gentle nursing and sound feeding in 
the country? It is only within a few years that science has 
really concerned itself with some of the commonest restora- 
tives. It has sought the wide world over for the bacillus of 
this and the microbe of that; it has broadened its pharma- 
copavia, it has done wonders of surgery, it has created prac- 
tically a new medicine, in which inoculation replaces drugs; 
but hardly a word is uttered as to the therapeutic value of 
silence. 

Nerves are shaken, brains jarred, the usefulness of men is 
diminished by the unceasing glare, the rush, the rattle of 
the city, the frittering away of time and destruction of 
concentrating power by interruptions in business, by social 
demands, and by the amusements to which one turns for par- 
tial relief from an artificial state of things. Hardly ever do 
we hear of the advantages of rest; of the calm of mind, 
inducing calm of nerves and physical restoration, that comes 
with the contemplation of a beautiful landscape. And men 
keep on building hospitals, as this misguided, well-meaning 
woman has done, in the cities—building, too, nurseries, 
orphanages, boarding-schools, asylums, reformatories. 

Wrong! Wrong! Pitifully, outrageously wrong! These 
people who are beginning life under such natural disadvan 
tages, or are struggling feebly to maintain it, should be 
taken to some quiet spot where the grass grows, where trees 
purify the air, where there are flowers instead of flagstones ; 
where, instead of the pounding of drays and yelling of 
hucksters, and clank and ding-dong of street cars, and shuffle 
of feet, and humming and brawling of industries, there is only 
the sigh of wind in the leaves, the comforting patter of show- 
ers on the roof, the gurgle of streams and the warble of birds. 

Moreover, it is time that measures were taken to wean 
from the cities that large class of the weak and dependent 
that encumbers them. The race needs to go back to the soil 
at intervals or it loses health and force. Only three per cent. 
of the city born become what we call successful men and 
women. It is the country that always was and will be the 
bone and sinew of the nation. -~CHARLES M. SKINNER. 


$¢ 


Plutocrats increase, but poets get scarcer. 


 ¢ 
A Prospect of Fair-Going 


MERICANS who do not go to Europe every year as a 

matter of habit, and who have to plan long beforehand 

for their trip when they do go, have doubtless already taken 

serious note that the World’s Fair in Paris begins next spring, 

and that it is already time, for those who are going, to con- 
sider ways and means, times, steamers and lodgings. 

About the Fair itself, it is not necessary for us to take any 
thought. The French will attend to that. We know that 
they know all about these big fairs, and how to make them 
combine entertainment and instruction in the right propor- 
tions. We are sure that there will be much more at the Paris 
Fair that_is, worth seeing and studying than we can look at, 
more amusement and more instruction than we can assimi 
late. We do not doubt that the French Fair will promote 
the spread of civilization in each one of us who manages to 
get to see it, and takes it seriously when he arrives. There 
will be a profit in carrying us to it, and in ludging us while 
we are there, and, as profits are earrestly garnered in these 
days, we have faith to believe that if w. can spare a moderate 
sum of money we shal! be able to see what Paris will have to 
show. If we have settled the ways and means problem there 
is no reason why we should not open correspondence at any 
time with the steamer companies, and see how their expecta- 
tions compare with ours. 

The various congresses which are a part of a contemporary 
World’s Fair fall in July and August. Persons who are not 
interested in them, and who want elbow-room for their fair- 
ings, are advised to go either earlier or later than those 
months. Doubtless, in May and October the crowds will be 
least. The American visitor, however, is much more likely 
to consider when it is most convenient for him to go to Paris 
than when Paris can best receive him. The fair-goers from 
our great cities will wish to be away from home during mid- 
summer, and July and August will be the very months they 
will choose. 

The Americans being much more fond of going to fairs in 
Paris than the French are of coming to fairs in America, it is 
probable that the delegation from here next year will be very 
large. It may be half a million strong, perhaps stronger, 
and that in spite of the fact that there are a great many of us 
for whom there are always in Europe much more interesting 
things than fairs, and who prefer to take our trips abroad 
when there is no great show running. But there will be 
enough of us who do not see Paris next year to keep one 
another in counterpance, and if any of us should incline to 
grieve over what we are missing, we can remember that 
Buffalo expects to bring from Paris all the good portable 
features of the French show and exhibit them at her Pan- 
American show in 1901. Three years later St. Louis will 
spread herself in the effort to beat the record made by 
Chicago in 1893. We shall not suffer, therefore, for lack 
of opportunity to improve our minds by contemplation of 
great shows. —E. S. MARTIN. 


August 19, 1899 


ae” jr ee, ra 
4 ker 
. ~~ Bey ee P 
T y 
AT THE ENGLISH|-— 
CAPITAL — 
When Captain Watkins, late of the 
Paris, was in command of the City of Chicago, he had as a 
passenger on one trip a United States Consul to a region in 


Africa dominated by the Portuguese, and where the Stars and 
Stripes were almost unknown to the natives The Consul 
? was a genial old gentleman who for years had been comfort 

ably living in a retired spot in New England, and all the 

time drawing a salary from his Government No President 

had sought to shift him, no hungry politician wanted his 

post, and by and by the old gentleman became practically 
t forgotten 

Early in life he had quitted his post, asking the British 
representative to forward to New England any letters for 
him that might arrive. So his salary checks went out to 
Africa and returned to Massachusetts with beautiful regu 
larity, and the old man lived an ideal life of it. But one of 
the squabbles that periodically break out in that dark conti 
nent suddenly blossomed, and the old man heard that his 
Government was sending out pressing dispatches to him. 
Thereupon he took the first steamer—it happened to be the 
City of Chicago—and sat on Captain Watkins’ right at table. 
The Consul was angry at being disturbed in his retired old 
age. ‘‘ What's the use of an American Consul, anyhow? ’"’ 
he said to the Captain when discussing the situation 
‘Look at the difference between our instructions and the 
Englishman's. He is told to act promptly and then report to 
the Government; we are commanded not to act till we have 
reported and received permission to act. We're no use in 
this world, I tell you, and won't be till our Government 
lets us shove first, and then talk.” 
of 

The newly appointed Flag-Captain to 
the Commander-in-Chief at the Nore is a man given to 
following the ideas of this old American Consul, He has 
always done his shooting early, and it has saved a heap of 
trouble in the end Captain Charles Campbell, C. B., is 
well known in America He was in charge of the American 
station for some years, and at the great review of the fleet in 
Jubilee year he found his battle-ship, the Empress of India, 
lying very close to the U. S. S. Brooklyn. The officers and 
men of these two splendid ships took to each other like 
brothers, and there was a special exchange of hospitalities 
between the Americans and Captain Campbell and his crew. 
When the Brooklyn officers were aboard the Empress of 
India, one of the latter's officers, who had been with Captain 
Campbell on the east coast of Africa, told the visitors a 
characteristic story of the fiery C. B. 

Campbell was in command of the 

Philomel, a cruiser that is now a classic 
on the east coast owing to the number 
of rows she has suppressed, when the 
Delagoa Bay trouble broke out, and 
war between England and Portugal 
seemed certain. The Philomel, then 
at Cape Town, was ordered to Delagoa 
Bay at the very moment excitement 
was at its height. Of course it took 
some days getting around to the bay. 
Meanwhile, whether or not war had 
commenced, Captain Campbell could 
not tell. He knew the one formidable 
man-of-war that Portugal possessed, a 
vessel outclassing the Philomel at 
every point, was at anchor in the bay, 
and he was naturally interested to find 
out whether she would receive him 
with salutes or slugs. Before reaching 
Delagoa he ordered his ship cleared 
for action and loaded every gun. 


o 


The moment he sighted the big 
Portuguese he made a careful survey 
of her, and saw that she, too, looked 
like business. He got his range-finder 
on her, and by consulting the chart 
made out that she had stationed her 
self as close to shore as the depth of 
water would permit, but the Philomel, 
drawing much less water, could, he 
thought, take up a position inside of 
her. With every man at his post the 
little cruiser made straight in, expect 
ing every instant to see the fire belch 
from the sides of the Portuguese. But 
no shots came. Campbell swung round 
the stern of the leviathan and brought 
up broadside on with only a few 
yards of water intervening. Still no 
aggressive move from the big fellow. 

Captain Campbell then ordered a boat to 
be lowered, and sent a warm invitation to 
4 the Portuguese Captain to dine aboard the 
Philomel. The bid was promptly ac 
cepted. When the be-medaled foreigner 
stepped aboard, Captain Campbell grasped 
his hand, and, after greeting him, said: 
‘By the way, Captain, I shipped some 
1 new guns at Cape Town; rather wonderful 
weapons, I assure you. Allow me to show 
you them.’’ When the guns were shown, 
the Portuguese did not fail to notice that 
every one was loaded. Then, after a good 
dinner, Campbell! suddenly said: ‘‘ Captain, 
I hope every meeting of ours will be as 
enjoyable as this has been, and to insure 
this, I think it is only right that I make a 
pretty plain statement: 

‘I'm a small ship, and you're a large 
and powerful one. You have, too, commu- 
nications open with Europe which, Delagoa 
being Portuguese, I have not—so I've got 
to look alive, you know. I can’t afford to 
risk anything. I want to tell you, so as to 
prevent mistakes, that for self-preservation 
I am going to keep a bright lookout on 


Wo. 


YEAH dat singin’ in de medders 
Whaih de folks is mekin’ hay? 
Work is pretty middlin’ heavy 
Fu’ a man to be so gay 
You kin tell dey’s somep’n’ special 
F'om de canter o’ de song; 
Some’p’n sholy pleasin’ Sam’l, 
W’'en he singin’ all day long 


Hyeahd him wa’blin’ 'way dis mo’nin 
’Fo’ ‘twas light enough to see. 
Seem lak music in de evenin’ 
Allus good enough fu’ me. 
But dat man commenced to hollah 
‘Fo’ he'd even washed his face; 
d you b’lieve, de scan’ lous rascal 
Woke de birds erroun’ de place? 


Sam’i took a trip a-Sad'day ; 
Dressed hisse’f in all he had, 

Tuk a cane an’ went a-strollin’, 
Lookin’ mighty pleased an’ glad. 
Some folks don’ know what de mattah, 
But I do, you bet yo’ life; 

Sam’! smilin’ an a-singin’ 
'Ca’se he been to see his wife 


THE SATURDAY EVENING 


your ship, and the very first signs of activity I see about 
you I'm going to open fire. I'll be sorry to shoot if it turns 
out that there’s no occasion, but much more sorry not to 


in time I wouldn't, if I were you, exercise the men 
at quarters during my stay The Portuguese looked glum 
for a moment, then thanked Captain Campbell for making 
a clean breast of it, and took the hint 


a 

Whether or not the Ancient and 
Honorable Artillery Company of Boston have been informed 
of the fact, I don’t know, but the H. A, C. of London and Mr. 
Chauncey Depew are out The H. A. C. of London is one 
of the oldest of military organizations, although its fighting 
record is painfully short. Occasionally, on the strength of 
being ancient and composed of jolly good fellows, the H. A. ¢ 
induces the Prince of Wales to drop in for dinner 

There is a beautiful lack of restraint about the H. A, C.'s 
dinners that is much to the liking of the Prince, and the 
organizers of the feast see to it that there are some first-class 
entertainers on hand The Prince loves a good story well 
told, and that is why Depew and His Royal Highness get on 
so well together. The last time the Prince dined with the 
Ancients, Depew was a guest, and in his speech did for him 
self with the H. A.C. He said, briefly, that there were three 
great branches of military organizations in England; first, 
the regulars, who would fight anywhere, for any cause, at 
any time; second, the volunteers, who would fight to defend 
their shores at any time; and third, the H. A. C., which 
would pot fight at any time for anything anywhere. Full 
publicity was given to this, but it has never before been told 
how Mr. Depew came to make the speech. 

Among the members of the Honorable Company there is a 
Sergeant who stands well over six feet in his socks. His 
sense of humor, however, is not in proportion to his height 
Just before dinner was served, and while guests and hosts 
were freely mixing together, Depew ran up against this giant 
and fell into conversation with him, The Sergeant was full 
of the glories of his company, and Depew, having a dim idea 
that the H. A. C. had, as a matter of fact, done little fighting, 
but wishing to give the enthusiastic Sergeant a chance to 
tell of some blows, it suddenly struck him that during the 
Cromwellian war, when every one fought, the company must 
have played a spirited part. So he said to the Sergeant; ‘I 
am not so well up in the history of your organization as I 
should be, I fear. For instance, which side did you take in 
the Cromwellian civil war?’’ 

‘* Well, that’s it, you know,’’ said the Sergeant; ‘' this 
company has seldom, I may say never, been without clever 
men at its head, and that accounts for our splendid record. 
During the Civil War we had an extra clever man, sir, the 
cleverest officer, perhaps, we ever had, and he managed it so 
tricky, sir, that neither Cromwell nor the King knew what to 
make of us, sir, and we went through the whole beastly 
trouble without firing a gur. We were the only company in 
England that did not lose a single man.’’ 

This man’s earnestness so tickled Mr, Depew that he put 
his foot in it an hour or so later, by telling the truth. 

—ANGUS EVAN ABboTrT. 


shoot 


WHEN SAM’L SINGS 


By PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR 


Walkin 


POST 


TO THE 


She live on de fu’ plantation, 
Twenty miles erway er so; 
But heh man is mighty happy 
W’'en he git de chanst to go 
allus ain’ de nices’- 
Mo'nin’ fin's him on de way— 
But he allus comes back smilin’, 
Lak his pleasure was his pay. 


Den he do a heap o' talkin’, 
Do’ he mos'ly kin’ o’ still, 

But de wo'ds, dey gits to runnin’ 
Lak de watah fu’ a mill, 
What's de use o’ havin’ trouble, 
What's de use o’ havin’ strife? 

Dat's de way dis Sam’! preaches 
W’'en he been to see his wife. 


An’ I reckon I git jealous 
Fu’ I laff an’ joke an’ seo’n, 
An’ I say, *‘ Oh, go on, Sam’l, 
Des go on, an’ blow yo’ ho’n 
But I know dis comin’ Sad’ day, 
Dey'll be brighter days in life; 
An’ I'll be ez glad ez Sam’! 
W’en I go to see my wife. 


EDITOR 


Editor Saturday Evening Post 

Maurice Thompson struck the keynote in the song of discon 
tent caused by education when he said that young minds have 
gotten the impression that by knowledge the track of life can be 
shifted to avoid labor, and that drudgery degrades 

Education should teach that “no sphere is inferior if it is 
necessary"; but how many does it teach to be contented as 
hewers of wood and drawers of water? 

The writer was born and bred to hard and menial labor ona 
farm. His discontent amounted not only to envy of, but hatred 
for those in more fortunate spheres 

His discontent led him to seek a college education, and he is 
now engaged in educational work, He has learned that his 
education cannot relieve him of the necessity of labor; he has 
even learned that drudgery is not degrading. And, though he is 
not contented, he has learned with Emerson that “in the nature 
of the soul is the compensation for the inequalities of con- 
dition.” His education has taught him to believe he can be of 
more service es an educator than as a man with a hoe 

Now the question arises, “Who, after being educated, will 
believe the limitations of the periphery of his ability demand 
that he be the man with the hoe? The necessity for this man 
exists, and this man is to be taught to be proud of his  mas- 
terly hoeing,"’ or the schools are at fault, Are they at fault? 
Whatever might be the results of education among the masses, 
it cannot be said that discontent is a result, Discontent is 
universal, Discontent is the result of that indescribable long- 
ing after the unattainable existing in the souls of all sorts and 
conditions of men, for 


"Our thoughts, our hopes, desires never die; 
They live for good or bad, or low or high; 
Our aspirations shape us as they sing, 

Or circle round the world an anguished sigh 


Allendale, South Carolina B 


Rud 


Editor Saturday Evening Post 

In the excellent article on Education and Discontent, by 
Maurice Thompson, he says that we should not "accept mere 
ambitionless mental stagnation as contentment, nor yet permit 
“a visionary dilution of life with impractical ambition,” 

The quantity and quality of education necessary to make the 
distinetion these two conditions is at once hard to 
classify and dazzling to contemplate 

Emerson says, '' Whatever we succeed in we must come to 
from higher ground,"' so if we would even “ hit the livery stable 
or blacksmith shop’ of Mr. Thompson's simile we must " aim 
at a star,” 

We are told that " there is no crime but low aim,” yet it seems 
the difficulty lies in not knowing what és a low aim and what is 
a high aim 

To crave merely the position of President of the United 
States with no regard for ways and means may be a low alm; 
but to sacrifice personal pleasure or convenience to manifest 
duty, be it ever so obscure, can never be 
a low aim 

That only can bea high aim which de- 
pends upon the exercise of high qualities, 
irrespective of results so far as “position” 
or mere approval may be concerned 

Emerson says, " What has he done is 
the divine question that unmasks every 
pretender"; but there is a more search 
ing question than even this, It is Aow 
has he done it, by fair means or foul, and 
to what end is it done? 

Acnns Lronarp Hitt, 

Littleton, Colorado 


wud 


Editor Saturday Evening Post 

Life is an endless toil and endeavor, A 
college diploma is not the key to worldly 
success or happiness, Contentment is not 
an end nor a necessary consequence of 
education, The primary object of educa. 
tion is, to train the faculties of the mind, 
Effort and endeavor, toil and struggle 
then success, Does it mean contentment? 
History and experience answer—no! 
Shylock staggered out of the couri-room, 
bankrupt and broken-hearted, crying “I 
am content,"’ 

1 do not agree with Mr. Thompson that 
‘nearly all the unwholesome and unmanly 
discontent is but the result of a foolish 
excess of self-esteem,” ete, Of the real 
successes-—heroes—Carlyle wrote: '' Not 
personal enjoyment was their object, but 
a high, heroic idea of religion, of patriot. 
ism, of heavenly wisdom, in one or the 
other form, everdove: od before them; in 
which case they neither shrank from suf- 
fering nor called on the earth to witness 
it as something wonderful, but patiently 
endured blessedness enough so to spend 
and be spent,” 

The man with the hoe may be brother 
to an ox, but often the college graduate is 
more than merely brother to an ass, 
Respectfully, 

5. A. BaLous. 


between 


Cincinnati, 


Rud 


Editor Saturday Evening Post 

Let a man be sure of his calling and there 
is no question of discontent; it then becomes 
synonymous with better ideals and higher 
aspirations 

When education begets discontent with 
farm life, the fault is not with it, but with the 
teacher or pupil 

Farm life in its broader sense means farm- 
ing communities where spiritual, mental and 
material wants are yearly increasing. An edu- 
cated man is better prepared to meet these 


wants 
A man who missed a star and hit a black- 
’ smith shop should not be content, unless with 


When ideals cease, life is mere 
Luck is @ mirage, and chance 
becomes a phantasm 
Wisely directed labor always brings results: 
this is education's function. Even for the 
farmer, education banishes loneliness, The 
world’s greatest authors are his friends. 
” Provineialiom dies, Self-reliance increases 
Independence grows, and, as his influence with 
the community extends, he gradually realizes 
that his own life or his own little world is 
whatever he wants it to be E.G 
Southern Pines, North Carolina, 


his progress 
existence, 


THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


Copyright, (hg, by Mrs 


CHAPTER V 
Laurie, I say! Wake up, dear!"’ 


AURIE! 


There was a gasp, a stir, a floundering under a warm 


L cover, and then a pair of blue eyes opened in a 
sunburned face and gazed wildly at the speaker. Laurence 
Hope became aware that his mother, in dressing-gown and 
slippers, was standing beside his bed 

A little while before she, too, had been lying comfortably 
enwrapped, for the time oblivious of a fear that had scarcely 
left her since the spring set in, Into her slumbers had come 
the strident summons of the electric bell at their front door; 
again it sounded, and she only of the household was broad 
awake. 

A glance down from her window into the street revealed 
a diminutive telegraph boy, holding the usual yellow 
envelope. While instinctively reckoning up the quarters 
from which bad news might come, she hurriedly made ready 
to go downstairs and take it in 

Under the dim light of the hall lantern the mother read an 
order to her son to ' Report at the armory at once,’’ signed 
by the Captain of the Troop of the National Guard in which 
Laurie had been proud to inscribe himself a private 

Since before midnight these telegrams of command had 
been speeding everywhere in the twin cities linked by the 
Brooklyn Bridge, in pursuit of husbands, brothers, sons. 
Clubs, theatres, ballrooms, homes, hotels and lodging-houses 
were invaded by the fateful missives. What though the sum 
mons meant no more than a test of the readiness of volun 
teers? It was the first actual tuuch New York had of the 
rude, red hand of war! 

‘*My tired boy!'’ thought the mother, ‘‘ He has been 
working so hard at the office all to-day; I thought his foot 
lagged as he went up to bed. If it could only have been 
to-morrow!"’ 

** Laurie, it's a telegram from your Captain,’’ she said in 
a trembling voice, ‘' They want you at the armory at once.’’ 

"Yes, mother, Ten minutes, and I'll be down.’’ 

One grievous long drawn yawn, a last tribute to the sweet 
slumber from which he had been so rudely torn, and the 
young man was alert and eager to be off. Of small account 
seemed to him the comforts of his home, the bed soon to be 
exchanged for a truss of straw on the wet ground of 
Hempstead Plains, the surroundings of civilized existence to 
be cast away for life in a tent! 


x 


He was conscious only of an intense desire to go, that 
made him hardly patient with the yearning solicitude and 
repressed gloom of the family now aroused and in action to 
speed him on his way. 

Although for days past every necessary preparation for a 
call to camp had been made; though a valise in waiting 
held all and more than the minor equipments for field service 
a pack of saddie-bags could possibly be made to contain 
~ethere were still services for loving hands to render the 
soldier they were sending to the front, Sandwiches were 
cut; a flask was filled with the best brandy in the house; 
Lucy in her pink peignoir with the floating laces, a coil of 
red brown hair loosened and tumbling down her back, bent a 
grave face over the woolen socks she had been marking with 
Laurie's number in the Troop, 

His father, half dressed, must needs see if the boy had in 
hand enough money for immediate use; the servants, in scant 
attire, fell over each other in their zeal to perform some 
ministration for the new son of Mars. And amid all this 
bustle, instituted to work down family depression of spirits, 
the trooper descended among them, his lithe figure clad in 
fatigue jacket and trousers of dark blue, a wisp of yellow 
stuff knotted around his bare throat, booted and spurred, 
gauntiets in hand, and in his eyes a light that rebuked the 
dull aching of their hearts. 

‘What, mother and Lucy? Afraid, are you?'’ he cried, 
‘and not a Dago nearer than the Caribbean Sea, That's a 
fine way to send me off, isn’t it? And no doubt I'll be 
sneaking home to-morrow, instead of going into camp. 
Hang these eternal delays of the powers that be! All I mind 
is this getting you good people out of bed at this unearthly 
hour,"’ 

He kissed them both, shook hands with his father, and 
sped away light-feoted, to be carried uptown on a neigh- 
boring elevated railway, When the front door closed upon 
her son, Mrs, Hope vanished, her husband following to give 
her such reassurance as he might. Lucy, left alone, ran toa 
front window, thinking to catch a last glimpse of Laurie, and 
hoping he might look up. 


She was just in time to see her brother met upon the steps 
by a tall man in evening clothes, who, grasping him by the 
hand, hurried off in his company, their steps ringing through 
the quiet of the street. 

‘Which of his fellow-troopers can it be who lives near 
enough to call for Laurie?'’ she wondered, ‘‘ That back 
doesn't look like Dick Masters, but I suppose it’s he, rushing 
up to dress at the armory. Dearest Laurie! How his 
friends love him, and who could help it? I'm glad he’s got 
Masters to make it jollier for him-——why—it's of Masters— 
it'a-——'’ 

She drew back quickly, Just as the two retreating figures 
came under the glare of an electric arc light, they had turned 
and were looking back at the house, Laurie, seeing his 
sister, waved his cap with an old familiar gesture. And 
Laurie's tall comrade, who had also caught o fleeting glimpse 
of the pink vision at the window, stood bareheaded full in 
the light. It was Rex Adamson, 

Lucy had never seen him since the day of their poignant 
interview in Mrs, Arrowtip’s little drawing-room. At that 
time she had felt, indeed, that she never wanted to see him 
again. A great wave of shame and grief and misery had 
swept over her head, and she had emerged from it sore at 
heart, believing that happiness was not for her again. Her 
pride had bled that Rex, in whom she had confided her 

Editor's Note-—Part I, The Circle of a Century, began in the 
Post of June ro. Part Il, July aa. Bach part is a complete story. 


GAe CIRCLE OF A CENTURY 


By Mrs.Burton Harrison 
IN NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 


Burton Harrison 


innocent trust in her unworthy lover, should have been the 
one to witness her downfall of faith and hope. 

Later, she had realized the infinite gentleness and chivalry 
of his attitude, but not at first. She had allowed him to see 
the revulsion of her feelings; had thrust away from her by a 
gesture and a look his eager proffer of service. And she had 
seen him gather himself together and retreat with dignity 
from the attempt to be anything further in her life. As far 
as she knew, he had given her up once and for all 

With her father's and mother's consent she had written a 
final letter to Jack Warriner, definitely sundering the bond 
that had been between them. This missive, carried to her 
father in his library and laid before him silently, had been 
read by Mr. Hope with the full expectation of finding much 
to criticise, to restrain, and to advise to have rewritten. But 
after submitting it to his wife, who perused the poor little 
heartfelt scrawl! with frank tears in her eyes, he had handed 
it gravely back to his daughter, and bade her send it 
as it was. 

a 


Everybody at home had been dearer than ever to her since 
then, thought Lucy. They had forgiven her concealment of 
the affair with Jack, had sympathized in deeds, not words, 
with her plucky fight to keep up, and seemed now to be 
holding her more closely to their hearts than ever. Even 
Laurie, from whom in the course of their lifelong intimacy 
she had rarely had a melting word, had spoken with her 
briefly, but feelingly, concerning her hapless love-venture 
and his own share in bringing it to wreck. 

Dear old Laurie! He had acted according to his best 
sense of protection of his only sister. She could see that in 
every line of his face, when he broached the painful subject; 
for his intervention had cost Laurie dear. That Jack was his 
Bessie’s brother had but made his position more distressing. 

Since the event, Bessie had sent for him and told him that, 
in view of the new rupture between the families and the 
exposure of their affairs to the gossips of society, her mother 
had ordered her to give him up. So Laurie, too, was cut 
adrift from his first love. He had confided this fact to no one 
save his sister. If his mother suspected it, she did not know. 
Only Lucy knew how gladly her brother had answered the 
call to march away to war. 

Amid these troubles of the Hopes and Warriners, Rex 
Adamson had not been forgotten by either household. Mrs. 
Warriner, with whom he had a painful interview, had 
thanked him fervently for standing by her unfortunate son in 
the scandal brought upon them by 
Jack’s most recent fall from grace 

As a first consequence Jack had 
withdrawn from his club, where his 
resignation had been accepted with 
out a protesting voice. A few days 
later the great business venture in 
which he had embarked, with all 
sails set and colors flying, came to 
an end through a fierce quarrel be- 
tween the partners, Jack’s senior 
refusing utterly to tolerate the ir- 


regularities of his methods, and the 
firm dissolving by mutual consent. te At ff} 
a Om Ved 
Jack, stalking out of the office, in FF ez 
a blank fury with his associate, had ! 


yet controlled himself sufficiently 
to arrange for the return to Rex 
Adamson of funds embarked by him 
in their enterprise. And after that 
no one knew where to find poor 
Jack. Another star had vanished 
in the black abyss. 

Laurie Hope had . meanwhile 
grown into closer relations of friend- 
ship with Adamson, Every day he 
had had something new to report to 
the home people concerning the 
quick progress of their intercourse. 
Mrs. Hope, who, a little while 
before, would have welcomed this 
alliance with delight, now, broken 
in spirits by Lucy’s misadventure, 


remained passive when her boy 
quoted ‘‘ Rex.’’ She was hardly 
even moved to comment when 


Laurie, coming in one evening, an- 

nounced that Adamson had been 

taken into his company of the Troop, the fellows rejoicing 
to secure such a stalwart new recruit. But Lucy’s eyes 
had flashed quick approval. 

*' That is fine!’’ she cried, with the old enthusiastic ring in 
her tones. ‘‘I am glad you have him for a comrade, and I 
hope it may be a tent-mate.’’ 

That night, on going to her room, Lucy took out the old 
letters of ‘‘ Eve Adamson’’ to ‘‘ Mrs. Lucilla Hope,’’ and 
read them with new light. Was it not being answered 
through Rex and Laurie, the century-old prayer for a contin- 
vance of friendship ‘* betwixt mine and thine’’? And she 
had often read them since. 


a 


This matter of Rex calling for Laurie at such a late hour 
of the night afforded her subject for the liveliest speculation. 
It was most likely that the summons had found him at a cer- 
tain supper given, in their neighborhood, by an officer of the 
National Guard to some of his fellow-volunteers. Rex, 
knowing Laurie to be at home, must have come a little out of 
his way to pick him up, en route for the armory. But why, 
seeing the house lighted on every floor, had not he rung 
boldly, and asked for Laurie, instead of hovering outside? 

Ah, me! She would have liked to give him, as well as 
Laurie, a God-speed. Her heart warmed at the notion of 
their setting off side by side. Rex, by inheritance one of the 
princes of the earth, wrapped in the purple, putting it all 
away to serve as a private in the ranks! What a dullard she 


Volume 172, No. 8 


had been, always to treat him as the friend of some 
one else—Jack’s first, then Laurie’s—never as one deserving 
honor because of his own strong manhood and individuality ! 

The last resolution of her mind before she sank into 
belated sleep was an ardent determination to do Rex justice 
for the future. It seemed vain for her to dwell on it, but 
there was no doubt he had lingered a moment looking back 
at her window after Laurie had pressed ahead. Little did 
she know that, driven like a leaf before the blast, Rex had 
come there, not in search of Laurie, but making that fraternal 
act an excuse for a last glance at the house that enshrined 
his ruling power before he could answer his country’s call 
to arms. 

a 


Hempstead Plains in May! A stretch of rolling downs in 
the middle regions of Long Island, open to the full sweep of 
breezes from the Atlantic. What vernal promise in the 
description! How could our volunteers do better than rally 
there for their preliminary training? One pictured, on first 
hearing of it, a canvas city of snow-white tents, pitched amid 
spring blossoms carpeting the hollows, and watered by rivu 
lets coursing to the sea! A pleasant change, truly, for city 
bred and city-pent youths! So thought most parents and 
proprietors of the nation’s defenders then hastening to their 
baptism of fire. 

As a matter of stern fact, there was no romance about the 
famous site selected by the paternal Government at Albany 
for breaking into military life the thousands of young clerks, 
professional men and mechanics, taken out of their stove- 
heated homes and steam-heated offices or factories; men who 
had hung up their overcoats, rolled their umbrellas and 
shelved their rubber shoes, and left them all behind at home 
on the day they went into camp! 

It began raining soon after the place was chosen, and con- 
tinued to rain for not quite forty days and nights, but long 
enough to cover the whole extent of even that gravelly soil with 
thick mire, thoroughly to saturate the troops, their tents and 
belongings, and to subdue the spirit of the most ardent patriot 
to the level of grim endurance. These men, who had stepped 
so gayly out of civil life, were suddenly, without preparation, 
subjected to the test of sleeping on wet ground, living in wet 
clothes, eating food soggy with the water it had been cooked 
with, and at first, through a refinement of mockery, having 
no water to wash in and almost none to drink. 

After the camp had been established these facts were evi 
dent to visitors from town, and despondency set in in many 
ahome. It was only the men themselves who made no 
moan. 

® 


A Long Island train going away from New York, one 
morning when lightening clouds gave hope of a day less damp, 
carried a small party of intending visitors to Camp Black, 
consisting of Mr. and Mrs. Lucien Hope, their daughter, and 
Euphrosyne Warriner, dressed in garb rigidly simple, sug 
gestive of her calling as trained nurse. 

Euphrosyne had always kept friendship with Lucy, despite 
the recent break between their families on Jack’s account 
She considered herself emancipated from ordinary social laws, 
and had touched Lucy’s generous heart by her high-minded 


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‘Laurie, it's a lelegram from your Capltain"’ 


grief over the affair, coming in person to lament it, when 
Mrs. Warriner’s other daughters obeyed their mother’s stern 
fiat of withdrawal from any intercourse with the Hopes. 

Nurse Warriner’s present outing was in order to get a 
glimpse of life in camp, after offering her services to the 
Government. Lucy had an idea that a sight of his lost 
lover's sister would cheer Laurie, who, however, since the 
enforced parting from Bessie, had given no sign to any on. of 
his feeling on the subject. And then Lucy had mucl 
common with Euphrosyne just now. She had lately been 
visiting her at St. Jude’s, trying to familiarize herself with 
details of attendance on the patients. Her secret longing, 
little suspected by her parents, was to follow Euphrosyne’s 
example and volunteer as a war nurse. 

Sitting opposite them in the car, the two girls had espied a 
rusty little man in shabby clothes, bent in the shoulders and 
buried in a newspaper, which he read without looking up till 
the train slowed at the station for Camp Black. While the 
Hopes were in the act of engaging the last unoccupied vehicle, 
a mud-bespattered old carryall with rawboned horses and a 
decrepit driver, they saw their fellow-traveler looking about 
the station in an absent-minded way, apparently much at a 
loss as to what he was to do fora trap. Lucy called her 
near-sighted father’s attention to the fact, and Mr. Hope, 
with his usual courtesy, made the stranger an offer of the 
unused seat in theirs. 

“I'm obliged to you, sir. If it won’t incommode you, I'd 
be glad to take it. I was going to visit my son,” he added 


August 19, 1599 


in an tmpersonal tone; ‘‘and I guess I forgot to telegraph 
ahead.’’ 

As the rain began to fall anew, Lucy 
stranger's age, insisted upon placing him in her own seat 
next Euphrosyne, springing lightly up to the more exposed 
perch beside the driver. On the way to the camp her spirits 
rose with the thought of meeting Laurie, her cheeks glowed 
in the moist air, her hair, under the same influence, broke 
into little fantastic rings around her neck and forehead 

While the others yielded themselves more or less to the 
depressing nature of the experience, while the wheels sank 
hub-deep into watery ruts and the horses strained to perform 
their task, her lively sallies and charming looks put heart 
into every one. Even their dry old nut of an extra passenger 
relaxed now and again into smiles that wrinkled his thin 
cheeks 

After ploughing ahead for a weary length of time, they came 
abreast of the camp of an infantry regiment of greenhorns 
from the interior of the State. Uniforms and tents having 
proved insufficient for their numbers, many of these men, 
still wearing their ordinary citizens’ clothes, were seen either 
miserably congregated under the shelter of rubber blankets, 
or else exposed to the rain without so much as an overcoat 
or poncho A sentry in check trousers, a water-logged 
jersey and a derby hat walked on his beat before the 
dismal throng 

“Oh! do go on, driver!’’ exclaimed Mrs. Hope, turning 
away her eyes. ‘I never dreamed of anything like this.’’ 

At every step forward the sad impression was deepened, 
with fresh revelations of inadequacy in provision of the most 
ordinary comforts for a volunteer. No outcast dog could 
have fared more pitifully than these ill-equipped regiments, 
hurried on from their native towns or country-sides amid the 
cheers of sympathetic crowds gath- 
ered at every point along their route. 

Under a thin veil of gray drizzle, 
all the encampments wore their most 
melancholy aspect, but Mrs. Hope 
could not but feel that her own boy's 
comrades, representing the wealthy 
and well-bred families of their com- 
munity, and possessed of abundant 
private means, must be found in 
better shape. 

When, finally, the driver reined in 
where he had been told to stop, in 
her disappointment she gave a little 
cry of dismay. 

‘* Oh, Lucien!’’ she exclaimed to 
her husband wofully. ‘‘ It can’t be 
here! Surely it isn't here!’’ 


g 


** I’m afraid, ma’am, you'll find it 
is,’’ said the rusty little man, turn 
ing around and speaking to her for 
the first time. ‘‘I’ve been before 
where ‘twas worse than this But 
the boys will cheer ye up!’’ 

They had halted at one end of a 
row of large conical tents so sodden 
with moisture as to resemble struc 
tures of wet paper. In and out of 
these lurked a few stray figures, but 
thie chief animation visible’was over 
at the far end of the line, where a 


in deference to the 


curl of blue smoke announced the 
quarters of the cook 
The inclosure behind which that 


potentate stood, amid his pots and 
ketties bubbling on iron grills above 
pits full of burning logs, resembled 
a counter of rough boards, and was 
the only mess-table this crack organ 
ization could boast of. Thitherward 
the visitors could now see trooping 
a procession of animated scarecrows 
phantoms in blue overcoats with 
collars raised, and tails flapping 
around booted legs, their campaign 
hats with the brims turned down to 
shed the rain, carrying each a tin 
cup and plate and spoon to receive 
his rations. It was hard to detect in 
them the flower of New York’s fash- 
ion, the habitués of clubs and opera- 
boxes, the leaders of cotillons, and former targets for news- 
paper squibs calling them effeminate and brainless fops! 

At a little distance off, horses in canvas blankets were 
picketed to a rope, tails to the storm, and turning their heads 
from side to side in a vain search for an avenue of escape 
from the downpour of the skies. Shelter the poor beasts 
had none. A long pile of saturated straw was their bedding, 
and a kind word and pat from their masters at feeding and 
watering time the only consolation of their days and nights. 
If ever the outlines of animals grouped together conveyed a 
meaning, theirs was a protest against the taking-up of 
American arms for Cuba. 


g 


Up and down the length of his beat before the tents paced 
a sentry in draggled blue uniform, his musket trailing, his 
aspect as forlorn as that of any tramp that ever asked for 
alms. When the carryall had come to a full stop, and he 
approached them to challenge their business at the camp, 
Lucy innocently cried aloud 

‘Why, Mr. Percival!’’ 

She had recognized in him a young man of her acquaint 
ance, a whilom frequenter of gay society, whom she had last 
seen coming toward her at a ball, carrying a favor of ribbon 
and tinsel and asking her to dance 

The sentry saluted, but did not relax official severity. He 
called up the corpora! of the guard, another old friend of the 
Hope family, who, after stolidly undertaking to summon 
Laurie to his parents, inquired of the stranger on the middle 
seat whom he would like to see. 

‘* Private Adamson. Tell him his father, please,’’ was the 
brief reply 

‘Mr. Adamson, I beg your pardon,’’ said Mr. Hope, aston 
ished like the rest. ‘‘ But for my poor sight I should have 
identified you before. Although we have never had a 
personal acquaintance, 1 know you, of course, as everybody 
else does; my name is Hope, and as our sons are friends and 
tent-mates, I am doubly glad we had this opportunity to 
bring you over.”’ 

‘Pleased to meet you, sir,’’ answered the magnate 
graciously; “‘ and I take it very kindly of your young lady 
to have given me up her seat Bad business, this rain, for 
our men in camp."’ 


THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


While the two etders talked, Mr. Percival, just then relieved 
from duty, devoted himself to the general enlightenment of 
the girls. His tongue, to avenge itself for previously enforced 
restraint, now wagged industriously 

‘So that’s Rex Adamson’s father?'’ he asked, lowering 
his tone. ‘‘ I could tell him that his son is over behind there 
digging a trench to bury the garbage from the «itchen; but 
I don’t know how he would take it, We like our digging 
bees better than sitting in a wet tent polishing brasses and 
cleaning boots on such a fine spring day as this. I can’t ask 
you ladies to get out, since there’s not a spot as dry as your 
carriage to be found. You'll find Laurie fit as a fiddle, and 
jolly as a sand-boy, Miss Hope. He and Rex are in my tent 
that one next the last in the row; and, if we do scrap some 
times when the ten of us have to fit in it like whe- :-spokes of 
a night, we have lots of fun.’ 

** That—that dingy, dripping rag? 
in there ?"’ exclaimed Lucy, horrified. 


a 


‘Indeed we do, and if we only had a board floor we'd be 
proud as Punch. Here comes Laurie to tell you all about it 
They've caught the lad in the act of loading his plate with 
pork and beans, and he’s bringing it along If you'll excuse 
me, Miss Hope, I'll run to get my own grub, and join you 
again presently. We can’t afford to stand on ceremony here, 
where the food fires are the only ones that burn.’’ 

He ran off laughing as Laurie joined them. Mrs. Hope, 
giving one glance at her drenched and mud-bespattered 
offspring, to be sure she had made no mistake, leaned out 
and threw both arms around his neck in a_ fervent 
hug. Regardless of the rain, she and the girls presently 
sprang down and surrounded Laurie, who, in famous good 


Laurie—you all sleep 


REGARDLESS OF THE RAIN, 
DOWN AND SURROUNDED LAURIE, WHO, IN 
SPIRITS, POURED UPON THEM A FLOOD OF 


spirits, poured upon them a flood of merry chat. So absorbed 
were they in hero-worship of their own, they did not notice 
the arrival to greet his father of Rex Adamson, whose great 
frame, in his working-shirt, and trousers tucked into his 
boots, was literally caked in mud, his arms bare, a spade 
still in hand, his face ruddy with health and satisfaction 

Mr. Adamson took note with a twinkling eye that his 
son, in passing a Corporal, had received orders of some kind 
from that functionary, who happened to be a petty clerk in a 
bank with which Job had much to do. He was pleased with 
the whimsicality of the incident, and determined to have 
an eye on the young man on his return to civil life 

-Job was feeling passably cheerful on more than one 
account. To begin with, he had attended, before taking the 
train, a Directors’ meeting, where the sum total of their fees 
of what should have been a ten-dollar gold piece tor each 
member of the Board had fallen, by regulation, to be divided 
between himself and the only other Director present. The 
consciousness of these unexpected yellow-boys jingling in 
his breeches-pocket was a distinctly satisfying one. Then he 
had been decidedly struck by the revelation of blooming 
young womanhood in Lucy Hope 


F 


It was long since he had taken notice of a pretty girl's 
back-hair, or had been dazzled by the occasional apparition 
of « rosy face, bright eyes and gleaming teeth He recog 
nized Miss Euphrosyne Warriner, although she had failed to 
identify him. He had once seen a photograph of her belong 
ing to his wife. And, dried-up old specimen though he was 
Job had inwardly confessed the attraction of beauty to be 
something superior to mere worth 

He was very glad ‘‘ Mis’ Adamson’ hadn’t succeeded in 
introducing Euphrosyne as a permanent member of his family 
while there were such “ pretty ones’ as Lucy still unwed 
Lastly, Job had a piece of news for Rex that he relished, 
while hesitating to communicate it. A telegram had come to 
him that morning from Washington accepting his late offer of 
a contribution to the campaign funds that exceeded in amount 
the yearly revenues of many a monarch, and a letter had 
reached him from an old friend high in authority in 
Government saying that his son Rex was about to be 
appointed to a post on the staff of a leading General 


SHE AND THE GIRLS PRESENTLY SPRANG 


FAMOUS GOOD 
MERRY 


Job knew that the appointment antedated his gift to the 
Government But he was sure, also, that Rex would fight 
against the appearance of buying his promotion, or of being 
exalted so early in the game, before he had done anything to 
deserve it. It was going to be a deuce of a struggle to get 
his son and heir out of this mud-hole—a fact in which Job 
felt a sense of secret pride that Rex had never given him in 
all his life before 

When Mrs. Hope announced that, rain or no rain, 
would not go back to town without seeing where her Laurie 
lived and siept, and the party set out under umbrellas to pick 
their way over to the tent, Lucy found herself bringing up the 
rear in company with Rex, Euphrosyne and Laurie having a 
little talk apart 

Lucy was struck by the bright and hopeful look upon Rex's 
face. Always heretofore she had fancied it wore an expres 
sion of uncertainty whether or not life were worth living 
Now, though unseemly in appearance, dirty, tired and 
hungry, he was distinctly in tune with Fate. He told her 
cheerily of their military ups and downs, hardships, amuse 
ments, jokes and quarrels; then the by far harder experience 
of the men of some of the regiments. He described how 
their tent, owing to the benefaction of a friend, had one day 
enjoyed champagne enough to wash in, but no water—how, 
sickening of pa/é de foie gras, they had fed it to their horses, 
sighed for a slice of hot roast beef, then adjourned eagerly to 
** salt horse "’ and army bread 

To all of this Lucy listened fascinated, fixing her eyes 
upon him with enormous pride in her privilege of walking 
beside this glorious muddy being the length of the camp 
before the gaze of men who crowded out to meet her and 
tried to get her away from hin! 

They found Mrs. Hope peeping between the dog-eared 
flaps of ‘' Laurie's tent’’ with 
a truly wobegone expression, 
The floor—the ground itself 
covered with wet straw under 
rubber blankets——was littered 
with novela, pipes, cards, to- 
bacco, tins of biscuit, fruit, and 
empty bottles of suggestive 
hue and shape. Every avail- 
able space was filled with reek- 
ing garments, stacked arms 
and wet boots. Fast asleep 
upon his back, with his feet to 
the tent pole, lay a big trooper 
snoring off the previous night 
on guard, Over his massive 
bulk his comrades had secat- 
tered American Beauty roses, 
the contents of a box sent to 


she 


him by a fair friend in New 
York 
vy 
‘Makes a decent corpse, 


doesn't he?" grinned Laurie; 
but secing his mother's dis. 
tressed face, he promptly car- 
ried her away to visit the cook 


and inspect the commissary 
supplies, 
"Thank you, oh, thank 


you!’ Lucy was saying to 
Rex, when it was time to go 
‘'T shall always remember this, 
and be grateful that | was per 
mitted to have a little, though 
never so littl, of your and 
Laurie's hardships. And it 
was so good of you to let me 
taste your pork and beans! I 
liked them—really I did; and 
your bread was excellent, I'm 
sure you must get sick of all 
that fancy stuff friends send 
you in boxes from town, Oh, 
I wish | were a man! It must 
be grand to be banded together 
here, enduring things.’’ 

‘* Yet my father wants me to 
get out of it. He has just told 
me that my promotion is on 
the way. Now judge for me, 
Miss Hope, I just now told 
you why I hesitate to take my rise, If you were in my 
place, would you go, and be a bloated staff officer, with 
insignia of rank on your collar, and have all the world to 
say you owe it to your father’s money; or would you stay 
here and dig trenches for the cook?"’ 

‘Do you really mean me to decide it?'’ she said, blush 
ing a little 

“No, that wouldn't be fair, when I've already made up 


CHAT 


my mind, But I'd dearly like to know if you agree 
with me.’’ 
2 
* Then—for the present—I'd stay here,’’ she said. 
‘' That's exactly what | mean to do. And I'll promise 


you I'll look out for Laurie, and keep him from getting 
homesick, and see that he takes those quinine capsules your 
mother gave him,"’ 

“Oh! will you? How good!’’ 

‘Yes, you know there is something behind us three that 
should always keep us friends.’’ 

'* Betwixt mine and thine’?’’ she asked, dimpling 

“When you said that, you were the very image of the por 
trait There, everybody's in the trap but you and my father 

who has taken the greatest fancy to you, by the way, All 
those other fellows look as if they would chew me up for 
monopolizing you. Good-by, then. What do you say to 
our having a little sort of watchword between us, in token of 
our friendship? ‘ Betwixt mine and thine,’ for instance? "’ 

'' That's the very thing. Whenever I say that to you it'll 
mean that I exactly approve of everything you've done; and 
vice versa, Don't tell Laurie; he would laugh, And I do 
hope I can get to Camp Black some day when it doesn’t rain.'’ 

Euphrosyne, with a subdued sigh, made place beside her. 
Long ago resigned to Rex's indifference, it yet cost her a 
pang to see Lucy with him Lucy looked back at him 
standing like a monolith where they had left him. Her 
heart warmed even to the dried-up Job, who surprised them, 
on arrival at the station, by having the Directors’ car to 
meet him, and inviting their party to share its luxurious 
interior, with afternoon tea served by an accomplished 
steward, as they sped through a dripping landscape back to 
town 


(TO BE CONCLUDED) 


is one which journalists—and only a 

few others—have, in addition to the 
rest, that is even more strange. I do not 
refer to their weird ‘sixth sense'’ which 
leads them to the discovery of news, some- 
times against their inclination and even 
against their judgment, as a hypnotist bends 
his subject to his will. I shall speak of that 
later. 

First of all, every journalist ranks what is 
called his newspaper sense or ‘sense of 
news.’’ If you are a candidate or a beginner 
you cannot tell whether you have this gift or 
not until you have repeatedly tried yourself, 
It is simply the light or intuition by which 
you know what to write and what to leave 
out, what to make the most of, what is worth 
a paragraph, and what is worth a whole page 
of a newspaper, I will illustrate this with a 
story. It is necessary to begin it by explain- 
ing that Frederic Hudson, once a great 
manager of the New York Herald, held to 
a theory that a newspaper should have some 
one great piece of news or story of wide 
interest in every issue. 

Of course, it is impossible to have a great 
battle fought, or a Pope elected, or a city fall 
by an earthquake, every evening in time for 
us all to read about it at breakfast next 
morning. And yet, Frederic Hudson's idea 
was practicable and he knew it—because he 
possessed the faculty called the “ news 
sense,’’ He had ‘' a nose for news,"’ as some 
men express it. He could scent news out as 
some persons believe that a divining-rod feels 
the presence of precious metals in the ground, 
or as another sort of sprig or rod is affected 
when it is taken over any place where the 
earth hides a spring or course of water, The 
late Senator Hearst must have had some such 
implement in his make-up, for every old 
California miner will tell you that he was 
able to feel or see or smell the presence of 
gold in the rocks as he roamed over the foot 
hills of the Rocky Mountains, iocating rich 
mine after rich mine. 


a 
HOW BALLARD SMITH MADE NEWS TO ORDER 

Ballard Smith, the distinguished managing 
editor and London correspondent, believed 
with Hudson, and also had the news sense 
highly developed, One afternoon, in what is 
called the ‘‘ silly season’’ in London news 
paper circles, there was not a speck of news 
stirring beyond the routine list of fourth-rate 
happenings. Mr. Smith sent for me and 
asked me to help him read the afternoon 
papers and try to ‘make a piece of news’’ 
for the next day's issue. I knew his method, 
and we both read every paragraph of news 
matter, and even such advertisements as we 
suspected might hide a tiny nugget which we 
could beat out into what he desired, 

‘*T have it!’’ he cried out after half an 
hour's reading, and, catching up a pair of 
shears, he clipped out a three-line paragraph 
and handed it to me. It was simply an 
announcement that a tiny baby girl had been 
found in a vacant plot of ground in Harlem. 
The only uncommon feature of the case was 
that the infant was richly dressed. 

There!" said he triumphantly, ‘It is 
five o'clock, and by midnight we should have 
a page or nearly a page of this in type or 
ready to be set up. You write the main 
story, See the place where the baby was 
found, the policeman who found it; follow 
it to Matron Webb's room in the police 
headquarters, where all foundlings are first 
taken, and get a long, full account from the 
Matron of her experience with such cases— 
the most remarkable, strangest, most pathetic, 
moving or stirring experiences she has had. 
Then jump into a cab and go to the asylum 
where these babies are brought up, and to 
the Potter's Field where they are buried. 
The idea is to hang the whole story of the 


A LL our senses are mysterious, but there 


Editor's Note-—This is the second per in 
Julian Ralph's series on The Making of a Jour- 
nalist, The series an in the last issue of the 
Post, and will be continued weekly in succeeding 
numbers, 


THE SATURDAY 


treatment of foundlings 
upon the case of this 
beautiful, richly 
dressed baby which you are to use as the 
text. Before you start, map out work bearing 
on the subject for the rest of the staff to do 
You can have twenty reporters if you need 
them. We will drop everything else and tell 
the public, for the first time, the Story of a 
Foundling.’’ 

I forget how many reporters were put upon 
this task, but the majority worked with that 
enthusiasm which alone could produce the 
desired result, and we published a long and 
absorbingly interesting story next day. We 
made known the unlooked-for tenderness and 
care which foundlings met with while in the 
hands of the rough policeman and the kindly 
woman who first takes charge of them. Very 
different was their after-fate, ending with the 
speedy burial of the startlingly great majority 
in trenches, several in each trench, with only 
numbers to distinguish them. This was 
legitimate, dignified and true journalism— 
the Only sort that was practiced upon that 
newspaper. Of no other sort of press 
methods do I intend to speak in these articles, 
except it be to point a moral or otherwise to 
exhibit them in the light from which their 
votaries shrink, 

a» 


SOME MEN WHO HAVE A NOSE FOR NEWS 

One day I reported to my “ chief,’’ Charles 
A. Dana, the fact that a man had called to 
show us some leather which he had made of 
a human skin, ‘‘ Ugh!’ exclaimed the chief. 
“Show him out of the door."’ I then said 
that news had come of the arrest of a dis- 
tinguished New Hampshire man for theft. 
‘Go yourself,’ said the chief; ‘‘ send us all 
you can get about it.’’ His news sense 
worked instantly and accurately. 

What will the public enjoy reading? 
What will prove interesting to the greater 
number of the people? To be abie to answer 
these questions correctly, instinctively, a 
score of times a day and every day in the 
year—that is what it is to have the news 
sense, It is not exclusively the newspaper 
man's gift, for novelists, playwrights and 
theatre-managers, among others, are depend- 
ent upon something very like it for success. 
This gift has made a unique place for one 
man who is actually able to play with his 
faculty and caricature its processes. I refer 
to Mr. R. F. Hamilton, who devises the 
advertising for a great American show now 
established in England. His alleged discov- 
ery that oysters can be educated, and his 
announcement of an indignation meeting of 
the human curiosities to protest against being 
called ‘ freaks,’’ are examples of how this 
gift can be so ingeniously exaggerated that 
even the greatest newspaper may not suspect 
either the method or the purpose. 

This news sense and the spirit of enter- 
prise are so often bound together in modern 
journalism that it is not easy to say where 
one leaves off or the other begins. Both were 
equal in the newspaper proprietors who dis- 
patched Stanley to find Livingstone, and 
the same was the case when only one editor 
among the thousands who read of the kid- 
napping of a white maiden by Canadian 
Indians had the impulse to send a reporter 
instantly to visit the savages and discover 
the fate of the girl. 

It was the mastering power of both the 
news sense and enterprise combined which 
sent Mr. Bonsal to the capital of Morocco 
with his life in his hand, and later to be the 
first passenger locked up, helplessly, in a 
submarine boat. ‘' What goes up must come 
down,"’ says a homely proverb, but in the 
case of this boat it was by no means so certain 
that what went down must come up. 


® 
A NATION THAT DANCED FOR A NEWSPAPER 

In my own experience, the combination of 
impulses once operated in a way which makes 
me smile when I recall it. I went with Mr. 
Remington, the artist, all the way to the 
Rocky Mountains to see the ‘sun dance’’ 
of the Blackfeet Indians, but when we reached 
the Indian grounds we found that we were 
five weeks early. At that point the news 
sense had done all it could. Then enterprise 
rose up in us, and we hired the chief and his 
head men to order the whole tribe or nation 
to do their great religious dance for us in 
advance of the regular season. It cost a 
chest of tea, plenty of sugar, still more 
money, and a large quantity of tobaccb, but 
the whole tribe performed for us with such 
mad enthusiasm that we were not quite cer- 
tain we should not figure at the end as 
human sacrifices to their deities. 

We had let loose all the savagery there was 
in that great reach of wild nature. But we 
found that there were limits even to the 
power of money, for on no account would the 
old chief permit us to take his photograph 
once he discovered that the camera employed 
the mysterious and (to him) awful forces of 


EVENING POST 


pking of a Journal 


' By “JULIAN RALPH 
ff 


Copyright, 1499, by Futian Ralph 


the sun to do its work, On the other hand, 
money would have bought for us the last 
thing we should have thought it could 
purchase—human suffering 

The young bucks of the tribe who, having 
made a successful hunting journey, are ready 
to be enrolled as warriors, undergo revolting 
self-torture in the ‘‘sun dance'’ in order to 
impress the others with their bravery and 
hardiness. This shocking sight was merci 
fully omitted from the dance as it was per 
formed for us, but when we made inquiries 
as to the degree of pain and the length of 
torture it involved, the chief kindly offered to 
order any number of his young men that we 
desired to perform the operation for our 
enlightenment—at five dollars each! 


a 

EXCITING TIMES WITH MOLLY MAGUIRES 

The most laughable and the most extraor- 
dinary experience I ever had in newspaper 
work brings out with a bold stroke the force 
which the news sense has when it exerts itself 
upon its subjects. It was inthe days when 
the ‘‘ Molly Maguires’’ were at last being 
brought to deserved grief. These Molly 
Maguires to which I refer were not the origi- 
nal lawless Irish band of that name, but a 
secret fraternity of coal-miners who herded 
together to terrorize the people in the 
Pennsylvania coal region with murder, 
arson, and violence of every nature. Two 
or more were about to be hanged at one of 
the mining centres, and many reporters 
assembled there. Among them was an 
unpopular one who was very credulous. He 
came to the rest of us for the news which he 
should have obtained for himself. From 
what I sorrowfully confess was a misguided 
sense of humor, I made him believe that the 
people dreaded an attack upon the town and 
an attempt to rescue the condemned men 
from the jail. He sent my rigmarole to his 
paper, and though the rest of us laughed in 
our sleeves, it turned out that he thus put a 
plume in his cap and made himself appear 
more clever than we. 

On that night we went to bed, only to be 
startled out of our sleep by what appeared 
to be a fusillade of rifle shots. I had heard 
the same sound before, and knew it to be 
that of torpedoes affixed to the tracks of the 
neighboring railway by the men of one coal 
train to warn the crew of the next train that 
their way ahead was not clear. Therefore 
I meant to turn over and go to sleep again. 
But it was not to be. Some of my reporter 
friends burst into my room and bade me dress 
with all haste. The Molly Maguires were 
attacking the town, they said. 

** But that is all nonsense,’’ I answered; 
** it is the romance I invented this afternoon,’’ 


a 
AN INNOCENT ‘‘ FAKE’’ THAT CAME TRUE 

And so it was. But I, and every other 
reporter there, was cbliged, none the less, to 
flash the alleged news to all the New York 
papers, for the following strange reason: 
The silly fellow, at whose expense I had 
amused myself, had gone all over the place 
repeating my story and insisting that he had 
it upon the best authority. He had so excited 
the people that the leading ones had formed 
themselves into a special police force, had 
armed themselves and were patrolling the 
streets and waiting and listening with nerves 
strained to the breaking point. Others had 
discovered a band of mysterious but very 
substantial men camped around a fire in the 
woods just outside the town, and these were 
believed to be but biding their time for 
making the attack. No one had been to bed 
except the reporters. Thus a mere practical 
joke set to work forces which developed news 
that could not be disregarded, and I was 
obliged to telegraph the tale with which I had, 
a few hours earlier, amused myself. 

But the Frenchman who said “ it is the 
unexpected which happens,'’ expressed in a 
phrase the character of all news and the 
constant experience of the reporter. Two 
days after my own invention turned to reality, 
I followed the bodies of the executed out- 
laws to the village where they had misspent 
their lives. I was bent upon describing the 
‘*wake’’ which | knew would precede their 
burial. Nothing seemed more certain or 
simple than the execution of this plan, yet 
1 did not carry it out. 

What a strange phase of existence I see as 
I think back on that little coal-mining village 
—what an anachronism it was to exist in this 
century—-how misplaced in our free and 
enlightened land! Death was not only in 
the cabins of the two cowardly assassins; 
its swart shadow hung like a pall over the 
entire place. The only man who walked 
boldly in the single street was the mine boss 
or foreman, and he was girt about with pis- 
tols and guarded by stalwart constables of 
the Coal and Iron Police, who followed him 
like two shadows armed with carbines. The 
**Mollies’’ had sworn to take his life as 
they had taken scores of others, yet he stayed 


126 


Volume 172, No. 8 


there and went 
on with his 
work He 
strode the 
street boldly, 
but the other men slunk in and out and to 
and fro like cats—or panthers 

I went into a cabin of the dead, and the 
crooning ceased, the very air grew chilly, 
every man turned his back upon me; the 
women alone faced me, but with hatred in 
their looks. No one offered me a welcome, 
a chair, or a share of the feasting. The press 
had stirred the authorities to break up their 
band; had I been the law personified I could 
not have been more unwelcome. I sat down, 
but not for long. A ruffian lurched over to 
me and asked if I was a reporter. 

‘Yes; what then?’’ 

‘Well, you’re not wanted here,’’ said he. 

I saw that he meant more than that 
Bidding them all good-by, I strode out with 
my face composed to express the utmost 
sang-froid. 1 looked about the tiny village, 
hating to give up my task, wondering what 
to do. As I lounged in front of a shop 
window I became aware that the shopkeeper 
was beckoning me in. 

** Are you the New York reporter?’’ 

“Yo.” 

** Then take my advice and leave this vil 
lage at once. The men have sworn to kil! 
you if you stay after sundown."’ 

I took the advice because I could get 
nothing by staying. So, at sunset, I left the 
village and climbed the bare face of the 
mountain beside it—as conspicuous a target 
and as complete an advertisement of defeat 
as ever was mortal man 


Rud 


When General Miller Won His Spurs 


' ENERAL MILLER reports from Iloilo 

that the town was taken on the 11th 
instant and held by our troops.’’ Such was 
the terse sentence in which General Otis 
announced General Miller's victory over the 
insurgents and the capture of one of their 
strongholds; a victory that, like so many 
American victories in the last war, was won 
without the loss of a man. 

The selection of General Miller to com- 
mand the American Army at Iloilo was 
warmly applauded. There is no better 
tactician in the service, no more resourceful 
or self-possessed officer, or one that has a 
greater moral influence upon his command, 
and yet General Miller is not a stage 
General, not the type generally looked for in 
a valiant fighter. One might pass by the 
quiet, rather small, dignified, unassuming 
man without recognizing the fact that he was 
a gallant commander. But he won his spurs 
many years ago in the Civil War and in the 
Indian campaigns, where he gained the expe 
rience in the methods of warfare character- 
istic of a half-civilized people so valuable to 
him now. 

It is a subject worthy of note that all of the 
Generals who have made a remarkable record 
in the Pacific islands have had much practice 
in Indian fighting, and the ambushes and 
bushwhacking of the Panays have conse- 
quently been anticipated with much less 
loss than would have been possible if our 
men had been commanded by officers 
unskilled in opposing such methods. 

General Miller is a Massachusetts man and 
was graduated at the Military Academy in 
1854. His promotions came rapidly. For 
bravery at Malvern Hill he was breveted 
Captain; for valor in the cavalry campaign 
from Winchester to Richmond, Major; at 
Dinwiddie he was again breveted, this time 
Lieutenant-Colonel, In seven short years he 
reached a rank by brevet that many officers 
are glad to obtain in half a lifetime 

After the war General Miller was stationed 
for a time at West Point, and subsequently at 
the Post-Graduate Artillery School at Fort 
Monroe. Last spring, when the President 
was looking out for able officers to command 
the Volunteers, he was named a Brigadier 
General Miller took command at San 
Francisco and sailed at once for the 


Philippines, where he has rendered efficient 
and gallant service, his latest exploit the 
winning of a bloodless victory at Iloilo 


—— 


— 


EE 


oe 


A Rogue’s Confessions * 


HAT the Larrikin is to Sydney, what the 
Whyo was to New York, the Hooligan 
is to London—a young criminal, shrewd, 
resourceful, vicious, a Bedouin of the streets 
In The Hooligan Nights, an English journalist, 
who chooses to call himself Clarence Rook, 
has related the life and opinions of one of 
these impenitent criminals. 

It is a calm, ironic story, with a certain air 
of grim truth about it. As a psychological 
study it is immensely valuable. It is as 
though the skull-cap of this young predatory 
animal had been lifted that you might see the 
dark, little thoughts that go twisting and 
turning in his brain. He is not the hulking 
ruffian of fiction. Nervous, highly strung, 
well taught—he is a product of the public 
school system—full of courage, he will pick 
your pocket, rob your house, or waylay you 
in a dark street. In a word, he is the 
modern criminal—trained from childhood to 
prey on society—the rat of cities, and, like 
the rat, neither moral nor immoral, merely a 
predatory creature. 

The student of criminology has here a 
subject made to his hand. I can call to mind 
no book of rogues—except De Foe’s Moll 
Flanders—that is quite so convincing in its 
sincerity. The adventures of young Alf—for 
that is the name of this particular Hooligan 
—are related in the cockney vernacular, and 
with dry and admirable humor. Love blos 
soms in this dingy underworld, end there is 
plenty of good fighting to keep one’s attention 
on the stretch. I do not know that the book 
has any moral, unless it be the rather dubious 
one that the pursuit of virtue—like a fond 
ness for caviar—is an acquired taste. Alf 
does not get his deserts. The punishment 
that is supposed to wait upon crime does not 
overtake him. His own view of the case is 
that he ‘‘ gets more fun by going sideways 
than by going straight’’—and there’s the 
problem that should set one thinking 

Mr. Rook’s novel is a noteworthy literary 
achievement—it is at once entertaining and 
suggestive. 


r 
The Taming of the Jungle ft 


HIS was the jungle vendetta: Ram Deen 
was a poor man and in debt to Bheem 
Dass, who drove the mail cart in its final 
stage to Kaladoongie. So they took his pot- 
ter’s wheel from him and beat him daily— 
twelve strokes each day—until he should 
have made restitution to Bheem Dass. His 
back smarted and he could not sleep. So 
before dawn he waked his little three-year- 
old son, Buldeo, and set out in the jungle. 

Ram Deen, telling the story, said: ‘‘ And 
when we had proceeded a mile or twain into 
the jungle, Buldeo spoke and said, ‘ Thy 
man-child is tired.’ And I set him on my 
shoulder and so carried him until the sun 
began to shoot slant rays from the West. 
Whereon we stopped and ate; and after, | 
fastened him in the fork of a tree, saying, 
‘Son of mine, bide here till I return, and 
be not afraid.’ ’’ 

Then Ram Deen returned to the village 
and fired the hut of Bheem Dass, to whom he 
owed money. When again he reached the 
tree whereon he had fastened his son, a pack 
of jackals, that had been worrying something 
under the tree, slunk away. The child was 
not to be seen, but the bark of the tree was 
scored with the claws of a leopard, and at its 
foot was a small red cap and a handful of 
fresh bones. And: 

‘* Bheem Dass rode after me on the mail 
cart that night. I knew he would come, and 
therefore I brake the telegraph wire and 
fastened it across the road a foot above the 
ground. When the horse stumbled over it 
and fell, the driver was thrown on his head 
and killed. Bheem Dass lay groaning on the 
road with a broken thigh-bone. 

‘And I held a lamp from the cart to my 
face, so that he should know me, and I spat 
and stamped on him; and thereafter I 
mounted the mail cart and drove it over his 
skull as he screamed for mercy.’’ 

There are other stories quite as notable in 
The Taming of the Jungle. Dr. C. W. 
Doyle lived for many years among the people 
of the Terai. He knows them and makes 
you know them. His work does not suffer 
by comparison with Kipling's; less brusque, 


* The Roster Nights. By Clarence Rook 
Henry Holt & ¢ 
t The Taming of the Jungle 


J. B. Lippincott Company 


By Dr. C. W. Doyle 


not quite so theatrical, it has a finer humanity 
and a broader sympathy, Doctor Doyle is a 
new star, and, if one may judge by his first 
book, one of considerable magnitude 


—Vance Thompson. 
2 
Dreams to Order * 


HERE are many kinds of Roman candle 
Some of the cheap ones produce but one 
star, and then sink into nothingness. Others 
emit three or four, while there are some 
from which star follows star with such 
rapidity that the midnight sky is made 
resplendent by their scintillant shower. 

So it is with authors. Some men emit one 
book that darts across the sky and is lost. 
Some follow up their first with others just as 
brilliant, but it is given to few to pour fortha 
sparkling succession, and of the bookish pyro 
technists John Kendrick Bangs is easily first 
—although one star differeth from another 
star in glory. 

The Dreamers: A Club, is his latest 
display, and it bears all the marks of careful 
workmanship, literary finish, undeniable clev 
erness, and consciousness of a sympathetic 
audience that marked The House- Boat on the 
Styx and the libraries that preceded and 
followed it. Mr. Bangs builds solid, some- 
times too solid, foundations for his superstruc- 
tures, for there is generally much that is light 
and airy and graceful in the pile that he 
rears. 

The story records the various dreams 
enjoyed by the different members of a club 
after a dinner made up of all the viands that 
are sacred to nightmares, and each dream 
burlesques the style of a well-known author, 

Among those burlesqued are Richard 
Harding Davis, Riley, Howells, Kipling, 
Barrie, Maclaren, Hall Caine, and others. 

It would not be true tO say that Mr. Bangs 
has been equally successful with all his bur 
lesques, although there is not one lacking in 
clever points, and the best are capital. The 
Van Squibber story is very like Davis, and 
maintains a high degree of humor throughout, 
while The Pinkham Diamond and The 
Gloomster are neck and neck for the second 
place, and reconcile one to the disappoint 
ment caused by The Salvation of Findlayson, 
which is not as Kiplingesque as it might be, 
although it bristles with points very carefully 
inserted. It’s a far cry from Dooley to the 
Dolly Dialogues, but Mr. Bangs harnesses 
them abreast and drives them through a 
** Dooley Dialogue’’ that has much of the 
humor and wit of both originals. 

Many a strong book has been weakened by 
poor illustrations, but Mr. Bangs can give 
Edward Penfield the right hand of fellowship 
His illustrations are as interesting in their 
original way as Newell’s and Verbeek’s were 
in some of Mr. Bangs’ earlier offerings. 


—Charles Battell Loomis. 
wud 
TOLD OF AUTHORS 


Sven Hedin’s Next Journey.—What Stanley 
is to Africa, Sven Hedin, the Swedish scholar, 
is to Central Asia. In the past ten years he 
has done more to increase our knowledge of 
that part of the world than almost any other 
traveler of the century. Not satisfied with 
the laurels already won, he is about to start 
on a new journey whose length alone is 
enough to attract general attention. It will 
begin at the Caspian and thence proceed to 
Kashgar, Lob-nor, Northern Thibet, and the 
Thibetan Pamir. Nearly a thousand miles 
of the route has never been traversed by a 
European. Hedin has made his task easier 
by using, wherever it would prove of benefit, 
his thorough knowledge of the Mohammedan 
and Buddhist rituals. There are fierce fanat 
ical settlements of votaries of each faith in 
which the death of a non-believer is regarded 
as a public benefit. 


Jerome K. Jerome’s Famous Disappearance. 
Mr. Jerome is a humorist in private life as 
well as in literature. On one occasion at his 
club he spoke of the ease with which a per 
son or a group of persons could vanish. He 
made an argument half-serious and half 
jocular which was so provoking as to induce 
several small bets that it could not be done 
Jerome accepted the bets, and for several days 
the club members kept a sharp eye upon 
him. He did not appear to notice that he 
was under surveillance. One day he met 


* The Dreamers: A Club 
Harper & Brothers 


By John Kendrick Bangs 


THE SATURDAY 


EVENING POST 


some of his friends not far from the 
Embankment, and invited them into the near 
est café 

While talking with them he handed an 
envelope to one of the party and asked him 
to deliver it. The person addressed looked 
at the superscription. It was that of one of 
the other members of the party, Thinking 
that there was a bit of fun involved, he handed 
it to the addressee and looked at him while the 
latter opened it. Inside the first envelope 
was a second, in that a third, a fourth, each 
addressed to a different person, and in the 
last was a bit of paper which bore simply 
these words: ‘‘I am vanished.” 

They turned, and Jerome had disappeared 
They repaired to the club and organized 
themselves into a search committee After 
hard work they found that Jerome when last 
seen was going on board of a houseboat 
They got the name of the beat, and, in order to 
turn the laugh on Jerome, they sent a notice 
to the police calling for the arrest of some 
man who had stolen this particular house 
boat. Within twenty-four hours every con 
stable and police officer along the Thames 
was looking for the vessel 

A month passed, during which time not a 
word was heard of either the man or the 
boat. Then one fine day the boat suddenly 
appeared at its accustomed place and Jerome 
came off triumphant. He kept the secret 
some time, but finally it leaked out, Mr 
Jerome had got on the houseboat, gone a 
short ways, anchored, and during the night 
had erased the name and painted a new 
name upon the craft, and had also changed 
the color of the paint in three or four places 
80 as to give the vessel an entirely different 
appearance, 

Godfather to the Jumping Frog.--When 
Bret Harte wrote his famous story, The Luck 
of Roaring Camp, for the first number of the 
Overland Monthly, he had great difficulty 
in getting it printed, in spite of the fact that 
he was the editor of the magazine. It was 
thought to be immoral, and the office objected 
to it, from the proof-reader upto the proprietor 
Finally, the editor had his way and the story 
appeared, but not without many fears on the 
part of the owner that its publication would 
imperil the success of his venture. 

It did not, however. The local press re- 
ceived the story adversely, but the press 
of Boston praised it enthusiastically, and 
California, accepting Boston's judgment, 
changed front, and the reputations of both 
the magazine and the author were made ina 
surprisingly short time. 

About this time Mark Twain first met Bret 
Harte. It was in the latter’s office in the 
United States Mint, of which institution he 
was the Secretary. Mr. Harte is fond of 
relating an incident of that meeting which 
has historical value. 

** He told me,’’ says Mr. Harte, ‘‘ what he 
had been doing in the mines and what he 
thought of San Francisco. He said it was 
the largest town he had ever seen, Finally 
he related one of his satirical aad extrava 
gant stories in his droll, inimitable style, and 
it amused me so much that I had him repeat 
it to some of my friends. Afterward I got 
him to write it for The Californian, which I 
was editing at the time, It attracted instant 
attention and soon became famous in the 
East and in England 

It was the story of The Jumping Frog of 
Calaveras 

The Two Literary Peterses, D. D.The 
Rev. Dr. Madison C. Peters, the latest cham 
pion of the Jew, is the busy pastor of a 
wealthy church uptown in New York. His 
recent book, which has been widely quoted in 
the discussion of the Dreyfus case, had led to 
his being mistaken for another clerica! author 
of the same name whose church is not far 
from Doctor Peters’. This is the Rev. Dr. 
John P. Peters, of St. Michael's Episcopal 
Church. He won high rank as an archwxolo- 
gist when he explored the ruins of Nippur 
for a Pennsylvania university several years 
ago, and he is an authoritative writer upon 
that and kindred topics. Like Doctor 
Madison, Doctor John is a busy pastor, and 
both men are leaders among their congrega 
tions, not only in church matters, but in 
municipal reform work and in local politics, 


Why the Fish Didn’t Bite.-Mr. Harold 
Godwin, grandson of William Cullen Bryant, 
is the owner of Cedarmere, the poet's old 
home on Long Island. Among the features 
of the place are an old trout pond and a 
picturesque rustic bridge. Some members 
of the household, so the story goes, were 
recently approached by an old man who 
wanted to know if that was Bryant's home 

* Yes,’’ was the reply 

‘Well, there’s a rustic bridge around here 
I want to walk over, and a trout stream I 
want to fish in,’’ he added. He was told 


that he would be allowed to do both. ‘' Do 
he continued,’’ my father used 


you know,"’ 


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to fish here with Bryant, and he said that 
those trout were what made the old man 
famous, If he had a good catch he'd get 
enough ideas to write for a month, and if he 
didn't-—well, he'd just scratch his head and 
walk that rustic bridge all night and for 
many nights and not do a thing.’’ 

‘And you came here for inspiration, I sup 
pose ?’’ said some one 

“Well, yes,’ was the hesitating reply; 
"I've come to trout for a few lines. I don't 
expect to get a Thanatopsis, but if I catcha 
small sonnet it'll be worth while,’’ 

Later in the day the old man was seen 
walking silently by the house without a sin 
gle catch, muttering to himself, ‘‘ I've come 
a long ways to find out if that was true, and I 
believe it, and I guess that Bryant caught all 
the trout before he died.’ 


” 


Written Between Editions..The author of 
Idyls of the Wabash, which established her 
reputation as a short-story writer, is Miss 
Anna Nicholas, an editor on the staff of the 
Indianapolis Journal, In a letter to a friend 
recently Miss Nicholas modestly said of her 
work: ‘When I went to the Journal I cher- 
ished a secret ambition to become a writer of 
novels, and held the erroneous idea that 
newspaper work would lead up to it, Little 
did I understand what a consumer of energy 
and time a great newspaper is. The stories 
were written at odd times—-usually when I 
ought to have been asleep—and I felt so con- 
scious of their defects that I submitted them 
for publication with many misgivings."’ 


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128 


MODERN FABLES 


THE 


By AUSTIN BIERBOWER 


No. 


MONKEY playing with a steel trap got his tail cut off 
when he got his foot cut off. 
’ He went back, and the third time he 


to get his tail, 
both my foot and my tail 
which ended his monkeying with the trap 


—GAMBLING 


He went back the next day 
I will go back and get 
got his head cut off, 


he said, ‘‘ 


* Now,’’ 


FS BF Bud 


HOW THE CIRCUS CELEBRATED 


By HAYDEN CARRUTH 


PEAKING of Christmas trees,’’ said 

Judge Crabtree, as he leaned back at 

a comfortable angle after dinner, “I 

want to say that I approve of ’em. They’re 

a highly satisfactory vegetable. I wonder 

the Arboriculture Society doesn’t offer prizes 

for their cultivation and improvement. 

Posduke’s Seedling Christmas Tree, or the 

Early Thanksgiving Christmas Tree, would 
be interesting novelties.’’ 

“You heard about the unappreciative 
Western villagers who hung their Congress 
man in effigy to their Christmas tree, didn’t 
you?’ inquired Major Dodge. 

‘Ves. And speaking of Western experi- 
ences with Christmas trees reminds me of 
the time I was with Ford's Circus in Texas, 
You see, Ford failed, and I was appointed 
receiver, and finished out the season in the 
South with the circus, Christmas overtook 
us in Western Texas, We were on the prai- 
rie, two hundred miles from a tree of any 
sort, much less a regular Christmas tree. 
Still, everybody agreed that we must have a 
Christmas tree. What to do was more than 
we could figure out. Then the lady who 
rode the spotted horse arose and settled the 
question. Sefiorita Tocardo was bubbling 
over with it. I took her hand and says I: 
‘Mrs. Simpkins, your idea is a good one. 
We'll carry it out.’ 

® 


“You see, the Setiorita’s notion was to 
use the giraffe, and we proceeded to do so. 
Stood him in the centre of the ring and 
dressed him up in tinsel and strings of pop- 
corn, with candles stuck about here and 
there, and red apples and Chinese lanterns, 
and such things. Tied a few brooms and 
feather-dusters up along his trunk—neck, I 
mean—to represent boughs and foliage, and 
there you were-—good enough Christmas tree 
for anybody. 

‘* There was just sufficient of him to accom- 
modate all the presents. We took our seats 
around on the edge of the ring, the steam 
piano played a selection in long metre as a 
delicate compliment to our tree’s neck, and 
the distribution of the presents began, with 
the ringmaster to read off the names, and 
the clown with a thirty-foot pole to hand 
down the things. The tree stood perfectly 
still, with the exception of occasionally turn- 
ing his head a trifle, which only caused his 
boughs to sway gently, and give an appear- 
ance of a breeze through the top. The 
Sefiorita declared that it was more natural 
than the real thing. The animal trainer 
wanted to bring in the elephant to reach 
down the presents, but we couldn't trust him 
with the popcorn and apples. 


*“ We had got about a third of the presents 
off and the piano was gently playing Hushed 
Was the Hour, when the giraffe happened to 
turn his head a little and look down, and 
see what a blaze of glorv he was. I was 
watching his face with a small telescope, and 
Saw an expression of astonishment pass over 
his countenance. Just then the brush on the 


end of his tail chanced to catch fire from one | 
This was rather too much, | 
gave a | 
ringmaster | 
and started out around the | 


of the lanterns. 
That blamed old _ camel-leopard 
mighty jump, clearing both the 
and the clown, 
ring, his hind legs flying like a windmill. 


® 


** The first jump put out the conflagration 
in his tail, but he kept right on. We fell 
over backward and ran for the high seats. 
The Christmas tree kept on around the ring. 
shedding presents and popcorn, candles and 
confectionery. The second time areund he 
knocked over the calliope, and every last key 
began to toot and_screech. This excited the 
animals in the.#€xt tent, and the elephants 
and beasts of prey commenced a little 
Christmas carol of their own; but they were 
securely fastened, and we had no fear. Not 
80, however, the camels and the kangaroo, 
who charged in and joined the tree in a pro- 
cession around the ring. The trick mule 
also appéared, and mingled in the simple 
Yuletide festivities by planting himself just 
outside the ring and taking a kick at the 
kangaroo every time he passed. If ! remem- 
ber rightly, the troup of trained monkeys like- 
wise took part in the exercises by jumping on 
to the fleeing animals and beginning their 
performance. I think, too, that there were 
some spotted horses and sacred cows impli- 


cated, though I confess, by this time, that the | 


air was so full of presents and steam piano 
notes that it was hard to see anything. 


® 


‘* About this time we crawled up through | 


the eaves of the tent and got out on the roof. 
The ringmaster crept up to the centre-pole 
and cut a hole in the top. The tree put his 
head out and began to look around. The 
fresh air did him good, and in a few 
moments reason regained her throne in his 
lofty mind The other animals gradually 
became quiet, and returned to their tent. 
We went down, the piano player banked 
the fires in his instrument, and we went on 
with the exercises. Everybody was satisfied 
except this man. He set up a great outcry 
that he wanted his salary raised. Said he 
was hired to give ordinary selections, and 
that when he presented a Wagnerian per- 
formance he must have double rates.’ 


SATURDAY 


EVENING POST 


Volume 172, No. 8 


Wa 


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Will Contain: 


GARFIELD—THE MAN 
OF THE PEOPLE 
By ex-Senator J. J, Ingalls 


A FAMOUS VICTORY 
By lan Mactaren 


APPLICATION 
THIRTY-SEVEN-FIFTY 
By Harriet Riddle Davis 


THE MAKING OF A 


JOURNALIST 
By Julian Ralph 


THE CIRCLE 
OF A CENTURY 
By Mrs. Burton Harrison 


There is no Kodak but the Eastman Kodak 


Kodaks 


| Make photography simple, easy. 
$5.00 to $35.00 
EASTMAN KODAK CO, 
Catalague Sree at the Rochester, N. Y. 


dealers or by mail 


Ge HARTSHORNS Sicetons) 


NOTICE 
NAME THUS 


We FEEL THAT NOTHING Monk WEED 
BE SAID OF 1800 RAMBLERS 


Agencies Everywhere 
GORMULLY & JEFFERY 
Chicago. Boston. Washington, 

Brooklyn. Detroit. Cincinnati. 

Cleveland. Landon, Eng. 


New 
Buffalo,