Evening Republican, Volume 17, Number 73, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 26 March 1913 — Page 3

AFTER LONG WAIT

How Success Much Delayed at Last Brought Happiness.'

By NELLIE C. GILMORE.

After the hopeless monotony of twenty years, Berringer suddenly found himself confronted by a feeling of curious excitement; a sense of something impending, which might have been tragedy, or travesty, or oven the herald of happiness in his 4ull, dispassionate life. His mood was whimsical, and he wondered yith a grim smile if he were not-growing hysterical in his old age! Forty-six, and —dreaming? Long ago—a score of years—he had relegated sentiment forever to oblivion. And now its ghost was walking. He was not sure that he liked the sensation nor was he altogether certain that he objected to it. But he was decidedly disturbed by It. Did this illogical return to memories signify that the clogged wheelß of his being were again in motion and that some subtle insubordinate self was preparing to begin the old struggle all over again? Twenty years ago life had looked very big and very bright to Arthur Berringer. Fame had coquetted at one elbow and Love at the other.' But putting forth his hand to grasp the one, it had crumbled in his grasp, and in the bitterness of his defeat, he had deliberately renounced the other. He had loved the girl better than his life, loved her far too well to .drag her down'with him to the level of mediocrity, perhaps poverty. His master effort had failed. All that was strongest and best within him had been cast into the venture. He knew that by instinct and he would not go to Alice Rutledge with the miserable story of his failure. So he had written her a letter quite calmly, announcing his defeat and releasing her from all ties. Afterwards, he had set stoically to work, straining every nerve and brain cell to its capacity in the futile effort to gjve the lie to his own self-knowledge. The result was inevitable. His first failure was fol-

lowed by repeated others and he had finally threw down his pen and yielded J himself grimly to the sodden grind of a clerical desk in one of the big railroad offices. All ambition ; was dead within him, and though the' only thing In life he really cared for/might have been his for the asking, hfe vowed solemnly to .forswear it until he had proved himself deserving. Berringer was sitting before his desk, tracing eccentric designs on the blotting-pad and staring into space where the events of his youth lined themselves. He thought with a little Bigh of the letter the girl had sent him in Answer to his own. Every word, stood forth -vividly in his suddenly surcharged imagination. Impelled by some incomprehensible Impulse to open the little wound, he took out his keys and fitted one of them into the lock of a secret drawer. The compartment yielded easily to his pressure, and after 20 years he looked again on the things that had been dear to him in his youth. There was a packet of letters and a bulky envelope containing the remnants of his one great hope. He drew them out with a sort of timid reverence and sat for a moment turning them over in his 'hand, a poignant return of the old bitterness making him hesitate momentarily to go further. But the feeling passed as quickly as It was born, and, after another, he read the letters. When he came to the last his gaze flickered an instant over the faintly inscribed words. Thep he drew a T deep breath and devoured them with starved eyes: “Dear Boy: “Your letter containing the news of your failure has reached me. I am sorry, you will never know Just how sorry, Arthur. For I know that the best of you, the whole of you, went out in that one supreme effort. And I believe in you, dear. But you are right in your determination to fight upward alone. It is not that I leve you less, but honor you the more. You are not the sort of man who wins success with a woman by his side. It must come to you through hard, unremitting toil. And it will come. Success, for its own sake, is bringing one fame is no very great thing, and as such I do not crave it for you. But I desire that a man —the man I love —which makes him break down every barrier to attain it. „ “Some day you will come to me

■with laurels on your brow, and I shall be waiting—even Into eternity, dear —for your hour of triumph—and mine —when you come to claim me. “ALICE/’ For a brief moment, Berrlnger held the yellowed sheet to his Ups; then suddenly thrust It back into the packet with a gesture of self-contempt What right had he —a failure —to desecrate her words? Much as she might despise him—as she surely must now —she could not despise him as he did himself. He frowned as he picked up the manuscript and snapped the rotten oord that held it. The seal on the envelope was still unbroken—after a score of years. He smiled syntcally in anticipation of the polite printed slip of regret that doubtless reposed between the fcheets just as the editor had plaoed It a couple of decades ago. A strange Impulse rushed over him to toss the whole thing into the Are, bat an equally potent one of curiosity assailed him to look inside once more—and he Broke the ■eel. A blur of penscrlpt confronted

him. He gave a little start, lifted b the letter with- shaking fingers and read: / “My Dear Mr. Berringer: a masterly manner —nothing short of it: We predict a big success for your 'hook and intend to spend a small fortune in aflvertising it. However, we are somewhat puzzled a bit disappointed over the ending. It seems hazy, incomplete. We are quite certain that you can readily remedy this defect and will willingly do so under persuasion of the assured sale we foretell for your work. We accordingly return the Ms. for your correction. In the event that you do not wish to be guided by our counsel in the above matter, we will- consider the matter closed. Otherwise, kindly communicate with us at your 1 earliest convenience. “HARDWICK BROTHERS, "Publishers. •. “(per G. M.—Ed.)" Berringer read the lettfer three times, laid it down—picked it up and read it again. What a fool he had been to throw the manuscript aside without even opening it. He recalled vividly the day it came back, ,his bitter disappointment, the blank future that loomed before him, the thought of her. Twenty years of hopelessness and gloom and sometimes despair! And now it was too late! Was it? He sat up suddenly in his chair. His heart throbbed heavily with excitement The publishing house was an old and reliable one. The same editor was in the chair. Without even leaving his seat he drew up pen and ink and paper and dashed down a hasty line, enclosed it with the bulk of manuscript, sealed and addressed it to Harwick Brothers, New York.

It was* a weary month of waiting and hoping and fearing that followed; a period of alternate ecstasy and depression. The long looked for letter came at last. Berringer opened it dazedly, dreading to look inside. But he pulled himself together sharply and unfolded the crackling, typewritten sheet. The editor remembered the story distinctly; he was returning it under separate cover with detailed instructions as to the exact line of corrections he wished made, and was more than ever eager to have the privilege of putting out such a powerful work of fiction. The paper slipped from Berringer’s nerveless fingers. For a little while he felt blinded by the great good news that had come to him. Then gradually the chaos of his mind cleared and his thoughts began to disentangle themselves for concerted action. Alice! The dominant thought was of her, for her. A thousand miles lay between them —and if that were all! But suppose she had ceased to care, to believe in him—to wait, as she had .promised? At least he could write and tell her of all his triumph—and ht a week he would know the worst, or the best. Her answer came almost before he had expected it. He had no difficulty in recognizing, the delicate round characters on the hack of the envelope, and his pulses gave an eager bound as he glimpsed the dainty gold monogram on the flap. She was still —Alice .Rutledge! Her gentlewords fluttered to his heart like doves of peace. “Dear: “Through all the years that have come and gone, I have never ceased to hope and believe. The day that I have been waiting has come, and I am waiting now for you. “I am inexpressibly glad of your victory, but infinitely gladder that you will come to me across the chasm of faith-kept years. "As always, i “ALICE.” (Copyright, 191 S, by the McClure Newspaper Syndicate.)

Proposed Transatlantic Flight.

The aviator Beckman of Cologne is preparing to make a sensational flight across the Atlantic next spring from Europe to America. He intends to start from the Da Rocha cape in West Spain and fly across to Fercheira, the first of the Azores islands, or 1,000 miles. From there he is to attempt the fight across the ocean to Halifax, which will mean about 1,800 miles. He will take on board 2,000 pounds of gasoline and oil, and 1b to fly for about eleven hours at ninety miles an hour for the Azores*trip. Then he will take on 4,000 pounds of gasoline and the fight to Halifax will last twenty-two hours at a somewhat slower speed. This German transatlantic machine is to be a monoplane of no less than 33 feet in length and 56 feet Bpread, having a supporting surface/ of 540 square feet The weight of the aeroplane Is 1,500 pounds, and the framing is of steel tubes. It Is to have two revolving cylinder motors each driving one propeller. Wireless apparatus and searchlights will be carried on board.

Government Owns Water Front.

In the Canal Zone the water front, up to the high-water mark, is owned by the United States, even when the abutting land Is owned by private parties. There is no authority in any executive or administrative officer at present to lease any of the water areas at the terminals of the canal. The granting of such authority must emanate from congress.

Card Index System.

"Who's on the phone?? “Tour wife,” answered the office boy. “Wants to know If you really love her.” vs,' “Tell her yes.” directed the groom, “bat explain that I'm busy and refer her to the file of letters In the upper drawer of her writing desk.”

PATRIOT IS DYING

o”D(jnovan Rossa Nearing End of a Troubled Career. He Fought and Long Suffered Imprisonment in. the Struggle for ECin’s Freedom—Liberated by Queen Victoria. ) New York.—When Jeremiah Donovan, the Irish patriot and picturesque Fenian, adopted the name “O’Donovan Rossa” fifty years ago and collected a sum said to have exceeded $90,000, much of it from Irish girls throughout the United States, he promised to free Ireland by drastic measures. The avowed aim of his life and purpose of the fund was the liberation of Ireland from English rule. O’Donovan Rossa, now nearing his eighty-third year, is said to be dying of rheumatism and complications at 194 Richmond terrace, New Brighton, Staten Island, where be lives in a queer ramshackle cottage with his wife and three daughters, says a correspondent At the end of a stormy life he is in comparative poverty, and the Irish societies are about to give him a substantial testlinonial in recognition of his perfervid patriotism, which led to 'imprisonment and banishment. . In the “Life in Prison,” published from 5 Barclay street in 1892, Rossa wrote: “England has proclaimed war against me and fprbids me to tread my native land, and so help me God, I will wage war against her until she is stricken to her knees or until I am i stricken to my grave.” O’Donovan Rossa is as Uncompromising today as he was in the days when he whs confined in a dungeon with his hands tied behind his back, eating his scant rations from the floor. He was always a physical force, having little sympathy with those who sought for and gained compromise. Born in County Cork In 1831, his father, who was in fairly good circumstances, sent him to school until 1844. Then catne crop failures and agitations, followed by troublous times in Ireland. He became part of the ,young Ireland movement His mother, brothers and sisters emigrated to Philadelphia and he was left alone at Skibbereen, apprenticed to a kinsman who had a store. ,In a short time young O’Donovan had a store of his own and was a leader in the patriotic movement fanned by the fenian leaders.

GETS “DEATH SIGN”

Woman in Court Faints When She Sees Fatal Gesture. , /* Is Code of the Camorrists—Members of Criminal Society Have Ghastly Ways of Telling Victim of Impending Doom. New York. —Annie Grecco was getting along beautifully in her testimony the other day. Her statements were lucid, her memory perfect, her sense of the dramatic keen. ■ Then some one in the packed mob toward the rear of the court room caught Annie’s eye—and bit the knuckle of his bent forefinger. His features wrinkled up in a snarl, as do those of a dog when he worries a bone. Annie pitched sidewise out of her chair in a faint “That,” said an old secret service man, “was only one of perhaps a dozen ‘death signs.’ Any one of them would be recognized by any Italian, because they all have their origin in that instinct of dramatization common to the race. The knuckle biting meant death, of course.- More nearly it meant ‘l’ll tear you to bits.’ 'lf you ever see an enraged Camorrist biting at his knuckle bone and growling like a bulldog, you’U admit that is

Annie Gracco.

easily read. Another is the handkerchief sign. Tears sometimes stream down their faces as they twist a handkerchief between their hands. Sometimes it is clinched 'ln their teeth. Their coda la primitive enough to go back to the men who lived in trees. “Sometimes the threat Is expressed by wringing the two hands together. It is over in a second—but it has sent a promise to the threatened person that he will be torn into pieces. Sometimes a hasty motion of the two bands over the knees means, Til break root

WILL BE MISSED IN WASHINGTON

Among the ladies who will be greatly missed in Washington owing to the advent bf the new administration are the daughters of the former attorney general, Miss Constance Wickersham (left) and Mrs. A. J. Akin, who spent the winter with her parents in the national chpitaL

In 1858 he became a full member and in the next year he served his first term in Cork jail. His business was ruined, his country demoralized. Still in the revolutionary movement, he traveled over Ireland, England and Scotland organizing Fenian bands. In 1863, Ireland becoming too hot for him, he came here on a visit He went back after a few months, became involved in an aggressive campaign and fell into the hands of the English authorities, and from 1865 to 1871 he was in jail. He was released only to be banished from Great Britain and her possessions. In this country he published a newspaper, wrote books, traveled and lectured. Through correspondence and influence and funds he collected, be still kept things stirred up in his na-

back.’ One of the most common signs is made by uniting the tips of the thumb and forefinger, forming a ring, while the other fingers are extended. A circular motion of the hands means ‘l’ll tear you up.’* One finger is hurriedly passed across the throat —and that threat needs no interpretation. Sometimes the man making the threat slashes upward with one finger on his breast or stomach. That is ‘l’ll rip your heart out.’ The first and second fingers may be extended, pitchfork like, and a sudden jab made toward the eyes, ‘l’ll blind you.’ “But there are too many signs to be listed. Every little secret association of Italian criminals may have its own code. Many of the signs have their origin in the village from which the actors come and might not be recognized by outsiders. Remember, there are eighty-nine distinct dialects spoken in Italy, But the meaning of all is contained in a most expressive gesture of the Calabrians, which means: “‘lf I get hold of you I’ll cut you up—and if you run I’ll shoot you.’ **

LIGHT GLOBE FOR DEFENSE

Electrical Weapon Invented by Philadelphian Will Bubdue the Disorderly. Philadelphia.—Policemen, obdurate criminals, women who have to be abroad at night, reformers, working girls ana Johnny pestered members of the chorus—there’s a combination! — ought to rise up and call blessed Jeremiah Creedon, the Philadelphia North American says. Mr. Creedon, one of the oldest and most respected engineers of the Baltimore and Ohio, has evolved by profound thought on his days off an invention. which, he says, will revolutionize methods of “making arrests, subduing unruly persons and resisting attacks.** And Uncle Sam has just signed, sealed and delivered to him a patent for his device. “Don’t ‘club ’em; shock ’em,” is Mr. Creedon’s advice to the police in handling the obstreperous. He proposes to arm the guardian of the law with nbie lightning, easily applied. gh the hands, where it will do the most good. With the same Innocent means of defense, he points out. the timid spinster may come and go at any hour, the shop girl need no longer use her hatpin (is a lethal weapon. For, at the waist of each unprotected female there may be a battery, and in her gloves electrodes; and she has simply to grasp an assailant, be he footpad or masher, and he becomes helpless in her hands. It was the sight of an unruly prisoner being cluHbed Into submission that stirred the compassion and the inventive genius of Mr. Creedon. He’s

tive land, although thousands of miles away from It. The New York newspapers of February 3, 1886, recounted the shooting of Rossa In Chambers street by Yseulte Dudley, an English trained nurse, who resented his utterance at a meeting held in “Dynamite Row,” which was near Rossa’s office. In 1891 the edict of banishment was raised and Rossa returned to Cork, where he was made clerk of the county council at a comfortable salary. Queen Victoria, as a jubilee favor, granted him a full pardon. In the meantime, less strenuous arguments than O’Donovan Rossa’s have impelled the British house of commons to pass an Irish home rule bill, the third reading having been carried by a vote of 367 to 257.

COPE LIBRARY IS ON SALE

Prominent Dealers and Collectors From Both Bides of Atlantic Seek Rare Books. London. —The library of Sir Anthony Cope, comprising no unusually large and interesting collection of American a. was put up at public sale at Sotheby’s. Prominent dealers and collectors from both sides of the At* lantic were on hand, with a view to securing some of the rare books embraced in the collection. These included a fine copy of Bossus' “Travels Through Louisiana,” dated 1771; J. Carver's “Travels Through . North America in 1766, 1767 and 1768.” with maps and plates; H. Ellis’ “Voyage to Hudson Bay.” and "California, 17461747.”

Wearing of Shoes a Crime.

Boston. —Prof. K. Jefferson Richards champions going' barefooted at all seasons as a remedy for the ailments of the human race. “It was never intended,” says the learned professor, “that a well-developed foot should be pinched, distorted and punished by being shut up in pieces of sewed leather.”

a big, two fisted chap himself, but he couldn’t stand the spectacle of even a criminal suffering such needless punishment Prom this his idea grew until he saw how it could be adapted for the protection of night workers and unescorted women. Creedon’s device is simple yet effective. It consists essentially of a pair of gloves provided with electrodes. which may be brought in contact with an assailant by the hand of the wearer. An electric circuit is i formed as soon as the electrodes are touched and the current is sufficient to administer such a shock that the victim will be helpless as long as the Current is kept on.

A Link With the Far Past.

London.—M. Wahl, an editor of Silkeborg, Jutland, who died recently at the age of eighty-seven, had a brother who died 128 years ago. Wahl was the youngest of 18 children and between the birth of his father and his own death there was a period of 168 years. His father, who was born in 1759, married twice, the editor being the youngest child of the second marriage. The aged edltur was younger than any of his nephews and nieces.

Bold Cast-Off Wife for $55.

New Castle. Pa-r Eli Klelrch, tired of his wife and took another sweetheart, but he was distracted because he could not marry He found a man who admired Mrs. Klelrch, sold her to him for s6l, and then got a marriage license to wed No. 2. A Judge fined him $26 and explained to him the workings of the last

WAR REMINISCENCES

ACROSS THE CATAWBA RIVER Sixty-Ninth Ohio Regiment Had; Rough Time Negotiating Stream— Hot Skirmish With Enemy. Comrade Sfmuel Bright a few week* ago wrote about “the night we crossed the Catawba,” and said that whoever was there would remember it. I remember; I was there. The Second brigade, First division, Fourteenth corps, were there nearly a week before we were able to cross. Owing to the heavy rains, our brigade had charge of the pontoons belonging to the left wing of the army. Our regiment, the Sixty-ninth Ohio, did not do much of the work On the bridge; that was done by the Fifty-eighth Indiana, and Twenty-third and Nineteenth Michigan, writes O. P. Paulding of Santa Maria, Cal., in the National Tribune. We had no cable that would hold the pontoons, so we put down trees and trimmed off the tops and left the limbs sticking out about a foot or more. To these logs we tied stones and ropes, and took them out in the stream above the place' where the bridge was to be placed, and dropped them into the stream, where they served as anchors —at least some of them did. Some failed to stick on the bottom, and the least pull would move them. We were much hampered from the want of rope; we used all the stay chains on the wagons. We finally got enough to stick and hold the pontoon* bo the army could cross. The bridge broke several times, but finally all had crossed except our regiment. Just before the bridge was taken up we were sent out on the skirmish line. There were only about 90 of us on the Johnny side of the rivey. We were strung along in squads of from two to ten over a front of a third of a mite, and one-half a mile back from the river. The adjutant general of the division, Capt. Smith, of whom it can be well said there never was a better man. Inspected the line and gave each man a word of cheer. Did we need ItT Well, yes. While the captain was talking to toe two of us, who were behind an old fireplace, we could see Butler's brigade of cavalry, with part of Wheeler’s and Hampton’s troops, form in line not over three-quarters of a mile from us. They sent out a line of not less than 300 men as skirmishers. There were ?two small ravines between us and the enemy, and soon we saw the enemy disappear in the farthest ravine, but Only for a minute;

then they ran to the second ravine. After waiting awhile'on they came. We fired on them, and they went back to the ravine, but soon they came again.. They got ..the second fire, but kept on coming. A part of our line fell back to where it was not so open. We held our new position, and exchanged shots with them for quite awhile. A part of the rebs got into two small log houses and used them as works, but Battery C, First Illinois, from across the river, soon scattered the logs and rebs. Firing ceased about nine o’clock, and we spent the rest.of the time badgering our foe, till at midnight the bugle blew the assembly. Never did it sound quite so ssmet. After waiting some ten minutes every man for himself stole away quietly to the river, where we found the ponton boats. Some of them moved along the bank in charge of one man each, without oars or poles. We got ip to the boats, stripped off our shoes and coats .and pulled out into the streams, usftig our gun stocks as paddles. It was a perilous ride. I was in the boat farthest upstream, and we landed 160 yards below where the lantern was placed to guard us. Several of the boats came near going over the falls, and had they done so all would have been lost Our only casualty was Sergeant Tom Adams of Compay A, shot through the right arm. The crossing was made at Rocky Mt P. 0.

A Rebel Verse.

A rebel soldier, after burying a federal who had been killed during one of those sanguinary engagements which terminated in the retreat of the Union army from before Richmond, fixed a shingle over the grave bearing this inscription: “The Yankee hosts, with blood-stained hands. Came southward to divide our lands; This narrow and contracted spot Is all that this poor Yankee got.”

For the Band to Play.

The regimental band was playing on the parade grounds in front of ths colonel's quarters, when the colonel’s orderly (a German) came in great haste to the bandmaster and said: “Per general says ha’f der band to blay der ‘Sthar Speckeled Bandanna.’ ”

How It Would Work.

VWhat would you do If I should get killed?” asked a bunkmate of hia chum. “I would have you stuffed.” “Yes, and then if you got mad at anything I guess you would kick the stuffing out of me.”

No Pity.

Belle—How do you know their honeymoon is over? Beulah—Why. did you notice? Shop begun cooking for him in the chafing* dish. ■ - ' :