Evening Republican, Volume 14, Number 67, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 19 March 1910 — Page 2

BO SWEET LOVE SEEMED. So sweet love seemed that April morn ’When flrwtwe hived beside the thorn. So strangely sweet. It was not strange We thought that love could never change. • But I can tell—let-truth be told— That love will change in growing old; Though day by day is naught to see. So delicate his motions be. And in the end 'twill come to pass Quite to forget what once he was. Nor even in fancy to recall The pleasure that was all in all. His little spring, that sweet we found So deep in summer floods is drowned. 1 I wonder, bathed in joy complete, / How love so young could be so sweet. —Robert Seymour Bridges.

The Anti-thid

It was the misfortune of Beryl Nlehto live amongst famous people. It the misfortune of Arthur Dobell/ who was something in the city—an Insignificant something without fame or repute—to fall In love with Beryl Nicholson. . Neither years, money nor social positlon divided them. The entire disparity consisted In the fact that she lived, moved and had her being in the golden atmosphere of fame. And that is the next worst thing to being famous one's self.

Her own people were horribly famous.

Her father was the renowned Prof. Nicholson, confessedly one of Britain’s greatest scientists. In himself he was a dull old bookworm, to whom no one could listen for more than five minutes without getting fearfully bored. But from everyone who did not know® him personally five minutes’ attention was secured. Was he not famous?

Her brother was a musical doctor, who had written an opera that had (crowning . dignity!) been once performed Garden during the grand opera season. The performance was not repeated. The papers said that this was because British music was not encouraged at home of German and Italian art. The critics In their hearts believed that Nicholson’s music was not worthy of a second repetition. Wagner is to be preferred without water. Her brother-in-law was a well-known novelist. His fame once acquired by a good novel, he turned out a successor every nine months with monotonous regularity. There was never the smallest variation in style or matter, but neither his publisher, the circulating libraries nor the uncritical reading public minded that. Fortunately for our modern novelists, a reputation that is born in the hills may descend to the plains without nine readers out of ten being in the slight est degree aware of any difference of altitude.

Arthur Dobell thought of those appallingly famous three and shot his fingers helplessly through his hair. ' And they filled only the inner court of fame in his loved Beryl’s life —that was the worst of it The outer courts were often flocked with renowned people. There were “at homes" held monthly through the winter months when celebrities celebrities in culture.music and literature—buzzed like bees round the Nicholson hive. Except for that inveterate buzzing they all behaved like ordinary people, and only about one in twenty had the smallest distinction of appearance. Dobell would get into a corner, put his fingers into his ears and groan aloud; that buzz was too awful. Was it his fancy that Beryl took color from her environment? Thank heaven, she appeared to have no aspirations after being a celebrity herself, but she basked like a cat in the sunshine of fame about her. It was a horrible image to use of a girl one loved, but he could think of nothing else that so exactly hit off the truth. And he, alas! could contribute nothing to the glow radiating upon her personality. He could not bring even a farthing rushlight of fame to add <o the general illumination. Suppose he took his courage in both his hands, proposed and was accepted! Would his sense of satisfaction survive those douches of cold water sprinkled from every hand? He saw himself introduced at Beryl’s fiance to that tiresome procession of celebrities. “What name did you say? Dobell? I don’t- seem to have heard of anyone

W that name. What -has he done? Nothing? What is he, then? Only a city man! Oh, how absolutely uninter•sting! Really, Beryl might have looked rather higher. Not even wen off. you say? Dear me. not a single redeeming feature! The girt has simply - thrown herself away on him Have yon read that delightful paper <if the Professor’s in the Twentieth Century on Socialism and Science?” Such was the exact position of at-

fairs when Dobell had .his Saturday afternoon visitor. It was a miserable day, and Dobell was spending the half holiday curled up in an armchair before the fire. Tonight he had to face one of those awful monthly gatherings at the Nicholsons’. A man could be excused for spending the afternoon in selfish fashion. “A gentleman to se« you, sir.” “Who, Elizabeth?” r

“He gave me that card, sir.” The name on the visiting card— Martin Ellison—was not enlightening. “I don’t know him. What does he want?”

“He said It was business, sir. That was all. Shall I show him in?” Dobell grudgingly gave consent.

The man who entered with quick step had long black hair, brushed straight back from his forehead, and sharp, little eyes that outdid the hair in blackness. He was dressed in an unobtrusively brown lounge suit rather the worse for wear—wore a soft felt hat, once gray, but now going green from its exposure to the elements. He stoqd directly in front of Dobell and began with declamation: "I have to ask you a thousand pardons for disturbing you on a Saturday afternoon. Dobell motioned his visitor to a chair. He hoped that the sitting posture would tend to subdue this human tornado. ’’Oh, that’s all right Now what can I do for you, sir?" “Do? You can set me on my feet again.” Dobell’s mouth closed with a snap. Really, what had the usually astute Elizabeth been about in not spotting that the man was a beggar? “Look here, my friend, let me be quite straight with you! If you want another five shillings to make up your railway fare to that place near Stornaway where you’ve heard of a job, I’m simply not your man.” “You misunderstand me. This is very painful. I don't want a penny piece from you. I believe that you are a friend—an intimate friend—of the great Professor Nicholson. I am here to ask you for a. letter of introduction to that distinguished man.” Dobell breathed easier. So he was not the target—but another. Certainly, this tornado might galvanize for a while the professor into something resembling life.

“I see—er. Well, I might do that, if you tfell me exactly why you want to be introduced to him.” “Willingly! I wish to make him more famous.” Dobell felt a little sick. Of all the unhappy suggestions! Make the Professor more famous when the fame that was already his was the curse and blight of Dobel’s life. If the fellow had suggested making the Professor infamous, his proposal might have been worth listening to. “Oh, f am really afraid I can’t help you, then.” “What! You grudge him the great honor and renown which I can bestow upon him?" “My dear sir, do try and understand the position! Already the Professor is the pampered child of fortune. He has letters after his name that make every compositor swear. Would he thank you for seeking to give him that of which he already has a surfeit? Let me advise you to put your proposal before some smaller and obscurer man!” . "Will you help me, then?" “Please be a little more explicit!” replied Dobell, with ruffled dignity. “In what precise way do you want assistance?*-- — r'~ r ... 1 ' ' ’.7'

“I require money and influence to put a superb new invention on the market: No. that is putting It wrongs Ty. > I am willing to hand over all personal interest in the invention in return for a.small but assured income that will keep me for the rest of my days.” < “And what is the invention?* inquired Dobell, dubiously. » ‘‘One that the world—the mechanical

world —has been longing for for years. It is an Anti-Skid. It effectually prevents ths wheels of any motor vlhicles, however heavy and cumbrous, from skidding. Once the thing is In -use, a new era will dawn for the motor world." His hearer scratched his chin. He remembered the greasy state of Leadenhall street during that very morning. He had looked out of his office window and smiled, although really tor anyone on the level of the street it was no smiling matter. Giddy motor omnibuses were pirouetlng from one side of the road to another, and the policemen on«point duty were powerless to arrest them. One had crashed into a four-wheel >1 cab placidly standing on the Leadenhall street rank, and was making off with a wheel as a souyenir. A statue up West would certainly await the public benefactor who would put an end to the holocaust of the streets which the advent of imperfect automobillsm hag brought about. But the practical man in Dobell asserted himself. He eyed the stranger suspiciously. Face to face with shrinking dividends and increasing Third Party claims which the Courts almost invariably decided against those cursed Juggernauts of the streets, the poor motor bus companies had been experimenting more or less Ineffectually for years with so-called Anti-Skidders. Was it credible that this shabby .and eccentric stranger had the priceless secret up his sleeve and had not even set a value upon it?

Martin Ellison evidently Saw the Doubting Thomas in Dobell’s eye. He produced from an inner pocket a large sheaf of documents and harangued. Some men can harangue with conviction. It is the essence of successful oratory in every rank of life —from the man who gathers a crowd and sells dozens of useless gim-cracks in - the street to the man whose glibness deceives an electorate and gets him into Parliament. Dobell’s visitor had the gift in abundance, and he turned it, so to speak, full tap on. Dobell felt that he was in danger of being submerged beneath the flood. ‘ But ” he protested for the sixth time. . Ellison flourished a paper before Dobell’s eyes. “Mark the signature on that!” he cried with emphasis. The signature looked like the trail of a fly that had been wrathfully beating its way home after sudden immersion in an ink-pot, but Dobell was prepared to be properly Impressed. “Of course, you recognize it?” “Well, I don’t collect autographs, and-it’s not absolutely familiar.” . Ellison chanted the full and august name of an engineering authority of whom even Dobell had heard. "Really!” he observed. “Yes, and you can read for yourself what he says.” The report—luckily, in a different handwriting—was clothed in severe technique, but the common words that occasionally occurred were of an encouraging and even enthusiastic character. It was hardly likely that an engineer of such eminence would commit himself to so deflnite a statement if there were nothing tn the thing. “I know what you are thinking of. You would like to meet the author of that report?" “Precisely!" returned Dobell. “Nothing easier! I can bring him here any evening next week you like to name. We shall have a model with us that will give ocular demonstration in the Anti-Skid in action.”

Dobell’s hopes began to rise. They were getting from theory to fact now, and the atmosphere was clearer. But one small doubt obtruded itself. “May I ask one thing? Why have you not got your friend—this engineer —to take up the thing for you?” “For a very simple reason! Don’t you know that he is Head Engineer to the biggest Tube Railway system in London? The Tubes and the omnibuses are now, as you know, at daggers drawn; the battle of the fares is being hotly raged. Picture the situation if he—the servant of the Tubes —had anything to do with an invention that would pave the way for ’buses! Why, his position wouldn’t be worth a month’s screw!” The explanation was more than satisfactory. “I’m engaged on Monday,” said Dobell. “Shall we say Tuesday night at 8:30?” “It will suit me perfectly.” “I shall take the liberty of asking a friend of mine in. He’s a bit of a mechanic and a wealthy man. As a large shareholder in the Rearguard Omnibus Company he has been looking very dismal lately, and will be extraordinarily interested in your invention.” “My dear Mr. Dobell, the arrangement is a perfect one. Tuesday night at half-past 8, then! I cannot sufficiently express my sense of obligation to you. As a small return, perhaps you will allow me to christen the invention the Dobell Anti-Skid. I don’t care two straws for fame myself. My very dear sir, good-night!” He was gone. Dobell sat down, his eyes gleaming. < Clearly the man was no impostor. Judged by infallible City standards, an impostor would certainly have borrowed ten shillings to tide him over till Tuesday. He had not even suggested arriving in time for dinner on Tuesday evening. The man was wholly genuine and sincere, if a little simple. Dobell lit his pipe, and a fairy palace reared itself through the tobaccosmoke. He was going to get even with those Nicholsons. Fame such as theirs —ay, greater than here within his grasp. He would marry Beryl and yet hold- his head proudly aloft. In the Nicholson courts of fame other celebrities would speak his name with bated breath.

The Dobell Anti-Skid wu going down to posterity with the Gladstone bag and Macadam pavement. • *' \ * • .• ■ ■ • • ■ Four hours later Arthur Dobell entered the Nicholson portals with a delightful sense of elation. Those famous names, the majority grotesquely mispronounced by the butler at the door, did not appall him In the least. At his own announcement not a head had turned, as usual, but this time the neglect was powerless to affect him. A little while, and Arthur Dobell, of Anti-Skid fame, would be the center of all eyes. He would be able to greet many of those celebrities with the merest nod; some he would absolutely cut. The prospect was delicious. Beryl’s father greeted him- in- a manner that was—for the professor—distinctly exaggerated. “My dear Arthur, I was afraid I might never see you here again." Dobell reddened. Had his face really expressed his feelings so grossly as that? He opened his mouth to apologize, but some one had grasped the Professor’s arm and was leading him away. The evening was nearly half over before Dobell had the chance of a tete-a-tete with Beryl. He had been noticing that her face was paler than usual, and that she moved among the crowd with less than her customary self-possession. Was she tired of being high-priestess in this temple of fame?

He felt a double thrill of satisfaction because they were now alone in the conservatory, and the isolation was of her planning. “Have you noticed anything tonight, Arthur?" she asked abruptly when they were seated. “Anything? Where?” “Hush, npt a soul knows. About father. Oh, we 'had a ghastly experience about half-past 5 this afternoon. Father's life was threatened." “My goodness!” ' “A madman shot at him in his study —two shots—but, fortunately, both missed fire.” “Great heavens!” “It was a poor, demented fellow, who had escaped from a private asylum; luckily, he’s safely back there now. Father, of course, saw at once that he was crazy, and, unfortunately, moved towards the bell when he should have humored him. The man stepped in front of him and went on gabbling about this Anti-Skid which he said he had invented, and wanted to call after father. What did you say, Arthur?” “Er—nothing.” “I was sure you spoke. The fellow whipped out his revolver and—” “Ugh! I Ugh!” “I’m frightening you, Arthur.” “Not at all, dear! It’s the horror of the scene.” ■ “You haven’t said much about poor father.” “Oh, it must have been terrible for him —just terrible.” “It was. And it all happened because father is so famous. Arthur, I hate fame. Oh, I’d give anything to get right away out of it all. If only some kind person—somebody quite obscure—would only pay St. George and rescue me from this dragon of fame which . Arthur, what's the matter? You’re hurting my hand. Arthur, you didn’t think —I—meant— you, dldeyou?” . They are married now; —-— And the gift to posterity will not be the Dobell Anti-Skid. —Black and White.

SOPHOMORES DO FANCY STUNTS.

Harvard Students Fnrahh Entertainment aa Price of Initiation. Staid old Cambridge had no need to journey across the bridge to Boston Thursday to enjoy vaudeville. It was right there in its midst, so to speak, and it was there “q. 5.,” or in sufficient quantity to please the most fastidious or the most exacting, the Boston Traveler says. Each, recurring year 100 students of “Fair Harvard,” for the greater part members of the athletic element of the sophomore class, are initiated into the mysteries of “The Institute.” Previous to this final ceremony these students are at the beck and call of the older members of the society and are forced to don old clothes and to do any old errand that may be demanded. Thursday a class of five initiates, the first to be put .through the sprouts since the Yale-Harvard game, occupied the center of the stage at Harvard Square and entertained a large and preciative audience for a considerable period. It was a free show, but that did not detract from its merit, and the neophytes performed their various parts with the. practiced abandon of accomplished artists. One neophyte had evidently been an understudy in the star role of "Ten Nights in a Barroom," for his specialty was to imitate a disciple of Bacchus and to reel about the streets plaintively crying: "Drink Is a curse. Oh, for one long curse!” Another, representing Napoleon, delivered a talk on his conquests, much to the delectation of his audience; while still another, attired as a ballet girl, splendid terpsiohorean performance, inter* spersed with-the rendition in a highpitched voice of the beautiful classic/ “Has Anybody Here Seen Kelly?” The exhibition proved highly elevated and inspiring to the gathering and there were none present who was not willing to concede that each neophyte had paid his full entrance fee to the "institute” and should be accepted as a full-fledged member without question. If a man is reasonably economical he learns In time not to throw away his pipe and tobacco when ho quits smoking. „ '

ROOSTERS CROW ON DEMAND.

Vaudeville F*erfeanmer Telle es Mia Meth?«U el Teaehlear Birds. Jean /Vermont, he of the burlesque circus, outlined the method of teach-' Ing a rooster to sing, the Spokane Statesman-Review says. The seeker after Information wahted to know how Mr. Clermont’s two roosters—one of which is a soprano and the other a barytone—had been trained to crow loud and long whenever they were told to. "It is not a secret," said Mr. Clermont, and then outlined the system. Thus: “In all my years of work with animals, this trick- with the roostess is one of the hardest I ever tried to teach. 1 have never succeeded in less than seven or eight months and sometimes it takes longer than that. To begin with, I bring the rooster into my dressing room and put him on the shelf in front of the mirror. “He looks into the face of what he thinks is another rooster. I take him away and put him back. There is the strange rooster again dnd my pupil challenges him with a crow, feeble at first, but soon loud and clear. This process is kept up indefinitely, until I can put a sheet of paper before the glass and leave the singing scholar facing the blank. But by this time he knows the other rooster is behind the paper and he crows. Then I put him on a pedestal, such as I use in my act, and after some weeks mere he will crow from the pedestaj when I show him a small mirror. From this stage he advances until when I hold up my hand and say ‘Crow,’ he crows as often and as loudly as I ask. But It takes patience, very much patience."

INDIANS AND WORK.

Indians and work are tenms that are not associated together. The ideas are not even neighborly. Nevertheless, one can get a large amount of work done by an Indian if the task assigned to him tdkes the form carrying a canoe over a portage, or of setting traps for beaver, or of following a moose through a trackless forest, with snow two feet deep and no snowshoes. This is what a white man would call work, but it is the Indian’s recreation. What the savage is at farming is told in the pages of J. W. Sanborn’s book on the Seneca Indians, One day in May, making calls Upon the Indians, I observed three young men of about 25 years plowing. To be more exact, the Indians lay In the shade of an apple-tree, the plow slept in the furrow, and the horses stood nodding. Returning an hour later, there was no change of Base. The thought occurred to me, “Here is a chance to give those lazy fellows a lesson they will not forget.” So hitching my horse, I jumped the rail fence, took the reins, started the team, and finished plowing the piece. Then, turning to the aggravating indifferent three, as they “reclined beneath the branches of a wide-spread tree,” I volunteered the following advice : “Boys, if you want to get on in this world you must not spend much time in the shade.” The Indians, delighted to know that, the job was finished, cried out to ask *lf the missionary would not be kind enough to unhitch the team!” I did unhitch my own horse, and drove off at a high rate of speed, reflecting on the doctrine of total der pravlty.

Author of “Annie Rooney.

Florence Storey, once a musical prodigy, author of the words of that once popular song, “Little Annie Rooney,” (since when she adopted the name qf Annie Rooney) and composer of a number of marches, caused smiles to appear on the faces of thdse present in Adams street court when she came before Magistrate Dooley and admitted being intoxicated, the Brooklyn Stand-ard-Union says. Annie's court garb consisted of a threadbare black skirt, a shiny .Prince Albert coat and a sailor's hat, cocked at a smart angle. As she ■has short hair she looked very much like a weazened old man, but she is as active as a girl, for when Magistrate Dooley suspended sentence she was so elated she danced a hornpipe outside the courtroom. - _ For twenty-five years she played in England, Germany, France, Australia, South and North America. She also became a skilled cornet player. When she wrote "Little Annie Rooney” she dedicated the song to*the real Annie Rooney, whose sister Kitty and brother Pat were her particular friends. ■ Annie says she inherited $68,000 from a relative in ’Lynn, Mass., and left Seattle a month ago for Boston to settle up her affairs. According to the will she is to receive a yearly allowance. While in Boston she decided to visit Brooklyn. She promised to return to Boston.

Delicate Considerations.

“I understand your constituents are criticising you.” “Yes,” answered-Senator Sorghum. "For the first time in years my enemies have found a weak point in my popularity. They are saying that the -brass band I hired for the last campaign wasn’t as good as usual.”— Washington BCar.„ * J “

And Don’t Worry.

Keep square with the world and all will go well. Take exercise fpr the body's sake and dress well and up to the times for self-respect When the Lord made mankind the devil added the tongue. ~

Old Favorites

In th* VaUey By the Sea. To a little seaside village, came a youth one summer’s day. Just;to spend a- short vacation, that was all—There he met a fisher maiden and to If while the hours away? At her cottage every day he used to ,-,i’ call. The lassie she believed the words, ho spoke In Idle jest. As ajm-ln-arm along the beach they roamed; But one day there came a letter and wtfh aching heart she read Just these simple words, “Good-by, I’m going home.” • Chorus —• In the village by the sea, she was as happy as could be, Like a bird her heart was ever light and free; Now the’ moon don’t seem so bright, for she’s all alone to-night. Where he left her in the village by the sea. Just a year ago this summer, in the village by the sea. To her cottage came this same youth, light and gay; He had - come to beg forgiveness, tor he’d learned to love her, too, Just how dear he did not know till far away. Her father came to meet him’ as ne knocked upon the door, Down the path into the churchyard then they roamed; As he points toward a grave mound, says, she bade me say to you Just these simple words, “Good-by, I’m going home!" The Snowstorm, Unwarmed by any sunset light The gray day darkened into night— A night made hoary with the swarm And whirl-dance of the blinding storm. As zigzag wavering to and fro Crossed and recrossed the winged snow; And ere the early bedtime came The white drift piled the windowframe, And through the glass the clothes-line posts Looked in like tall and sheeted ghosts. So all night long the storm roared on; The morning* broke without a sun; /xll day the hoary meteor fell, And when the second morning shone We looked upon a world unknown; No cloud above, no earth below—• A universe of sky and snow! —John Greenleaf Whittier.

VARIETIES OF HOGS.

Many Kinds Are to Be Found Among Automobile Drivers. There are many automobilists who drive slowly as long as |hey are alone on the road, but as soon as you come along to go 'they spurt and swing from side to side, a writer in Collier’s says. If you let them go on and you follow along they slow down until you catch up, then they repeat their silly performances. I generally find it a pleasure when I meet such a hog to keep tooting my horn and see him spurt. Then there is the hog who tears by you at the rate of forty miles an k hour, cut-out wide open, and aa soon as he gets beyond you settles dQwn to 'youfr pace and throws his dust at you. The only thing to do. then is to stop and. look at the scenery. Then there is the hog w'ho tries to see how near he can come to your car without hitting you. This is the most dangerous driver of all. If there is a collision he will claim you did it. He is the fellow who comes toward you and never leaves the center of the road and, to avoid him, you nearly have to climb a tree. Then there is the hog who floods his engine with oil and leaves a trail of smoky, sickening odor for blocks after ire has gone by; —~~—~~—' — An automobile is a great tomfort and of pleasure and can be used without any other person. With saner speed laws and considerable addition to dnd uniformity in the rights-of-the-road provisions and . the vigorous enforcement of such laws traffic will proceed faster, but with more safety to alt than even when it was less congested.

Malleable Glass.

Nori, whose book on glass was published at Florence in 1612, says: "In the time of Tiberius was invented a way of making glaiss malleable, a thing afterwards lost and to this day unknown, for 1/ such a thing were now known, without doubt if would be more esteemed for its beauty and Incorruptibility than silver or gold, since from glass there arlseth neither smell nor taste, nor wy other quality.” But, although unknown to the old Italian, the art was practiced In Persia, If we may believe Bailey, whor says that In 1610 Sophl, Emperor of Persia, sent Philip 111. of Spain six .( glasses that were malleable and would not break If hammered. And Blacourt tells that an Inventor having presented a bust of malleable glace to Richelieu, was rewarded for his Ingenuity by perpetual imprisonment.' lest the vested Interests of French glass, workers should be Injured by the new invention.

How Rude!

Patience I have been spending week looking traces of my ancestors. ’ Patrice —Indeed? And did your ancestors wear traces’-r-Yonkers Statesman. After a girl reaches 16. she begins to make a new discovery every day of something in the house that Is-too oldfashioned to be permitted to stay there. • ,