Evening Republican, Volume 17, Number 96, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 22 April 1913 — Page 2

would end the yarn with a good natural chuckle in spite of himself. In the passenger list of the big ocean liner which the patriotic young man boarded at Southampton bound for New York he was listed as Samuel Maryland Mapes—a name that fairly waved and snapped like a star spangled banner in a breeze. And Patrick Henry, George Washington, Benjamin Franklin, Abraham Lincoln and Nathan Hale all rolled into one could have produced no greater patriot than Samuel Maryland Mapes—“named right after my Uncle Sam” he told a score of the passengers before the ship had been three hours out of Southampton. “Ah! gentlemen," cried young Mr. Mapes in the smoking room the very first night out as he lifted his champagne glass high, “drink with me to my country—l hope you are all so fortunate as to be able to call it your country—to the United States!” He gulped down the toast, and immediately held out his glass to the waiter for replenishment. “I drink again!”, he continued, “to home —home — HOME! Holy mackerel, how I long for the United States! It’s two years since I waved a gay hand in farewell to Liberty in New York harbor. Walt till we get back! You’ll have to hold me on the deck, gentlemen, when we pass her, for I feel capable of leaping off the boat and landing right on the dear old girl’s bronze shoulder —bee-lieve me!” ‘The guv*nor gave me three years to travel in. Two’s been enough—plenty for anybody who’s got the United States for a permanent home and New York for a playground.” The young man brought his voice to a more moderate key and changed the clutch on the speed of his conversation; at the same time rounding with his glance several wealthy old gentlemen who were looking with indulgent consideration on his highspiritedness. ‘Tm so glad to be homeward bound my pulse is beating about ninety above normal. I know mother and my sisters will be dreadfully disappointed. I know they are expecting me to come back with a sassy little French mustache sticking on my lip and my legs held tight in narrow English pants, and maybe they’re expecting a single pane of glass in my face and a top hat pushed down over my ears.” “All I want to do Is get back; pick out my sweet Amerian girl; sit in at a desk as nearly next to father as the old gentleman will permit; get into the game; put on my hustling clothes and wave the good old star spangled banner till the gong rings.” When he said that, two of the aforesaid old gentlemen were moved to arise and Blap him on the back and announce: “Good boy! That's the talk! That’s the stuff! You’re the right kind of an American.” And one of them said further: “Your dad ought to be proud of you.” “I’m proud of him!” replied young Mr. Mapes. “I baven’t got any use for a belted earl or duke or a prince —no, not even a gosh-blamed king as a father—or anything else. My old dad —a straight American business pian and gentleman—he’s plenty good enough for me.” Both the old gentlemen were so overcome at this point that they simultaneously called to the steward to fetch more champagne. And even a red-faced Englishman, with a stringless monocle maintained quite marvelously in his eye, accepted a glass. He observed with a good-humored smile that the lad had “no end of cheek,” but declared that patriotism even of young Mr. Mapes’ violent brand was most pardonable on any and all occasions and graciously lift-

ALL LIVED TO AVERAGE AGE

Assertion That Musicians as a Rule Dls Young Is Result of a Too Hasty Generalization. Setting out with the confession that in his youth ho, too, was guilty of Indulging In hasty generalization, Professor Gilfleralerre raises his voice In the Journal of American Philology against the Iniquity of the practice. He dies an Interesting example In the form of a paragraph copied from the

Samuel Maryland Mapes. U.S.A

iN the memory/of “Tim” Donahue, twenty years a customs inspector of the port of New York —and they were vivid, amazing recollections that he had! —a tale he would tell on rare occasions iis that which is here set down under the title of “The Patriotic Young Man.” “Georgie Tingo” is what “Tim” Donahue always called the patriotic young man, and sometimes the inspector would look glum and grim in discussing the youth, but as often he

ed his glass as one of the old gentlemen cried: “A toast to Mr. —-Mr. T* “Samuel Maryland Mapes!” “Samuel Maryland Mapes of-^-of?—” “The U. S. A.!” replied the gay young patriot

“Samuel Maryland Mapes of the U. S. A.!” declared the toastmaster, and young Mr. Mapes bowed low. It was as “Samuel Maryland Mapes, U. S. A.,” also that he was lißted on the roster of the ship’s passengers—no town or city of residence given—just “U. S. A.” Now, not only did young Mr. Mapes win favor among the "Yankees" of the smoking room set but though irrepressible and with his patriotism always to the fore, he nevertheless captivated the American matrons and American girls aboard. When the ship was within two days of port it became palpable that the young patriot simply could not stand the nervous strain of the anticipation of once more stepping upon the soil of the land of his adoration. He began to 'ause the head steward worry—for fear the champagne wouldn’t hold out, 1 He sent champagne to the American ladies with little American flags on tiny staffs set in tiny corks floating over the bubbles; forty times in the smoking "room he lifted a glass and burst into patriotic song. The pretty girls and the matrons were saddened to hear of these excessive indulgences. . So, although young Mr. Mapes paced the deck that morning and afternoon looking a trifle glum and subdued, the greetings from all sources were as cordigl as ever — even when it was rumored that the last night at sea he hadn’t gone to bed at all, but had sat up with a wine bottle in one hand and the flag of his country tied turban-wise around his flushed brow, absolution was still accorded him and no social bars fell athwart his path. No—not in spite of the fact that the next morning, with Fire Island in sight, Samuel Maryland Mapes gave every indication of keeping his spree going. He was everywhere along the deck, shouting, laughing. “Home—home —home!" he shouted repeatedly, and did a sort of combination fandango and cakewalk the length of the shore-side promenade. He almost had a fit of hysterics when off the Fire Island reefs the big liner settled down to a very much reduced speed. Everybody winked and smiled at everybody else and turned indulgently only when they heard him yell: “Oh, what a bully idea! What a peach of a notion! Hooray!” The patriot rushed off the promenade and for a few minutes quiet had an inning on the deck. But only for a few minutes. With his armß loaded with bottles of wine, Samuel Maryland Mapes came back. There was an added decoration on the corks of the bottles. On each was sticking a little Amer lean flag. “These,” cried out Mr. Mapes, U. S. A., “are for the very first Amerlean I meet on the pier—whoever he or she may be —the very first real sure enough male or female citizen of the United States —without respect of race, color or previous condition of servitude that I bump into will get these bottles —four of ’em—and each one decorated with the dear old flag." Suddenly one of the passengers turned to Mapes and laughed as he pointed to an old, battered oyster sloop with a big, dirty white sail that was calmly sailing along beside the great ocean steamship and owing to the reduced speed of the liner just then was able to hold her own.

London Standard. In which the writer maintained the thesis that good musicians die young. "Painting and sculpture are conducive to long life. Yet music kills men young.” And he goea on to cite Schubert, Mozart, Bellini, Bizet, Purcell, Mendelssohn, Chopin, Weber, Schumann. “Of course,” says Professor Gildersleeve, “he had the grace to admit that Verdi lived to a good old, but l was not satlfled with that concession, And at random jotted down the names of ten famous composers—Hay den, Rossini, Liszt, Handel,

‘‘Does he get the wine?” asked this passenger, pointing out the old sharpfeatured skipper at the sloop’s tiller. And a pretty girl nearby said: “He’s American, I guess. The name of his boat, Bhe volunteered, scanning the sloop’s stern, “is the ‘Mabel, Rockaway, L. I.’ ” "Well, you know I said the first American I should meet on'the pier," said Mapes. "Oh!" interjected a passenger, "you’re backing out!” "I should say not!” cried Mapes In flushed Indignation, “only let me be sure he’s an American and you bet your life he gets the wine!” Many eyes were turned then on the man in the sloop. He was a sparse, hook-nosed, grizzled man under whose straggly mustache an old black pipe thrust itself forward. "Ahoy, there, Mabel!” yelled Samuel Maryland Mapes; “ahoy, skipper!” * "Ahoy yourself,” said the man with the black pipe, none too cordially. “Would you mind telling me your name?” pursued Mapes. “Ralph Smith. Why?” "Are you an American?" “What?” “Are you an American?” "I guess 1 am, sonny. I guess I was before you was born. So was my great-grandfather! ” “Three cheers for the Red. White and Blue!” yelled Mr. Mapes. “Well, Mr. Smith, I’m tickled to death to meet you—to meet any American!” he went on, and waved enthusiastically as the man with the black pipe expressed a dry smile and negotiated his sloop somewhat closer to the liner. “And Mr. Smith, here are four bottles of wine. Here goes! Catch ’em!” For all his experiences of the past two days, young Mr. Mapes threw the first bottle with admirable aim. Skipper Ralph Smith as neatly caught it But even if he hadn’t, the bottle probably would have landed safelv enough on the pile of Jute bags at the sailor’s feet. ‘Smack!” / went the second bottle as accurately into Captain Smith’s hands. And the third and the fourth the same. So that when a petty officer ran np to warn Samuel Maryland Mapes that it was against the marine law to pass anything off the ship until it had left quarantine and the customs. Skipper Smith had all four bottles in his possession and was bowing with one hand and working the tiller to tack away from the steamship with the other, the wine bottles in his lap. "I’m rehlly very sorry,” young Mr. Mapes explained, “but I was quite ignorant of the regulations.”

“It wasn’t till seven years afterward," Tim Donahue would tell you. “that I found out about the young man who worked up his patriotism all the way over for the neat purpose of tossing those bottles with American flags on them to the first fellow citizen he should meet when the ship got into the harbor. Those bottles contained about $150,000 . worth of contraband gems. Of course, Skipper ‘Ralph Smith’ was ’Georgie Jingo’s* pal. He was a slick one. too. He ought to have called that old sloop the eel. He was always sneaking up beside the liners ready to have something passed over the side before the big ship reached quarantine and customs. We finally got him, and in a string of confessions that he made we got the story of the patriotic young man. The worst of it was we had a secret agent on that very boat, but be, like all the rest of ’em, fell for the little scheme of Samuel Maryland Mapes, U. 8. A."

Meyerbeer, Wagner, Berlioz, Bach, Brahms, Beethoven. The average result was 69.7. If I had added Verdi to he list, the average would have gone soaring above the accepted limit”

The Only Winner.

“Old Jinks made all his money from lawsuits,” volunteered the club gossip. “Quite remarkable!” exclaimed the new member. "No; he was a lawyer," explained the gossip.

SCARED WHOLE PARTY

AGED MAN TELLS OF BEEINQ FIRST AMERICAN LOCOMOTIVE. Men and Horses Stampeded by Vision of the Smoking Monster— Georgia Cracker’s Unique Comment on Event. “And you really saw the first locomotive built in America for actual

“I actually did!” was the emphatic reply, “and though the event occurred over seventy years ago, the incident is as vivid in my memory as if it had been but a week ago. It is doubtful whether there is a man living today, other than myself, who saw it make one of Its first runs. ... "I was a New England lad, but was passing the Winter with my uncle in Augusta, Ga. There were no railroads in the south then, although I knew that one had been commenced which was to run from Charleston, S. C., to Augusta, a distance of about 140 miles. I had never seen a railroad, of course. "The leading men of the section were much excited those days about horse racing, and . the annual meeting was to be held in February. A party of men from Augusta were going to these races on horseback, and my uncle and I accompanied them. “Well, we started, nine of us, each with a change of clothes in his saddle bags. Our route was south, through the great pine forests which lay between Augusta and the coast. We made about thirty miles d day, eating and sleeping in some log cabin or planter’s house by the roadside, for villages and taverns were few and far between.

“On the fourth day, when we were nearing Charleston, we saw in the distance the new railroad, some ten or twelve miles of which had been finished. I was startled by a queer shriek, and presently the engine came in sight, flying along and breathing forth fire and smoke. No wonder our horses became unmanageable! I, for one, was as badly frightened as my pony, with whom I rushed, into the forest. “A mile or two further on we came to a broken wagon by the roadside, and near it sat a half-dazed Georgia •cracker.’ . " ‘What’s up?’ asked one of our party. “ ‘Well, stranger,’ he drawled, ‘all’s down, you see, wagou smashed an’ critter run out o’ sight. I’ve often heard tell of nullification, and now, I reckon, I’ve Baw it for true.’" Mr. Ewer paused to laugh heartily, and youth still glowed in his eyes. “I had no opportunity to see the monster again,” he continued, “but I well remember the construction of that portion of the road. The railß were timber, laid upon uneven ties, with a strip of iron nailed on top of them, upon which the wheels were to run. It was a great curiosity.”

Acoustics of Halls.

Dr. Castex read a paper recently on the relation between the acoustic (sound) properties of public halls and hearing and phonation, that is, voice production. He said that the acoustics of many halls were excellent, but in other cases they were bad. There were yet others in which the acoustic properties were satisfactory for the audience, but deplorable for the speaker, on account of the strain imposed on him. The reason of these differences he could not explain. Halls might be bad by reason of deadness, of overresonance, or on account of echo. The materials of construction undoubtedly exercised an influence. Wood, glasswork and marble afforded good resonance, draperies bad. Stone and plaster were regarded as neutral. In course of time the drying of the material Improved its sonorousness. Cupolas created unfavorable conditions, which exaggerated resonance. Speaking generally, good halls were those in which one of the dimensions exceeded the other. Round and square halls were less satisfactory.

Who Jests at Cars.

E. A. Ball, vice-president of the Brotherhood of Locomotive , Firemen and Englnemen, tells a story about Edson J. Chamberlin, president of the Grand Trunk railway, who n«tw shares with Charles S. Mellon a certain Jeopardy of the law. Some years ago Chamberlin was a division superintendent on a smaller New England railroad and sometimes used a special car. A general superintendent, in inspecting the road, spied Chamberlin's car attached to a train. "The division superintendent's," he was told. "Cut it off. Cut it off!" was the order In a gruff voice. Later Chamberlin became president of the road on which his former superior was general manager. One day Chamberlin came upon a special car. “Whose caP is that?" he asked. ‘The general manager's.” "Cut it off. Cut it off," he said- with a grin. Not long afterward the resignation of the general manager was received.

service?’’ I asked the venerable Warren B. Ewer. It was at Mr. Ewer’s home in Piedmont, Cal., and our subject the introduction of the locomotive in America, says the Railroadman’s Magazine.

FORCED TO RUN DOWN LION

Bad-Tempered Animal in Central Africa Attacked Train and Had to Be Killed. Once in the early days of railroad construction George Stephenson was asked what would happen if a cow gdt on the railway line. "Well,” replied the great engineer, with typical north country humor, “it would be verra bad for the coo." According to reports from Central Africa a lion which recently got in the way of a construction train speedily discovered that it would be , equally as bad for the - king of 1 beasts. When first sighted from the engine the lion was lying right across the line, basking ’peacefully in the sun. In reply to the whistle he looked up lazily, but did not attempt to move. The efforts of the engineer and the stOker to drive him off the line by pelting him with billets of wood were no better rewarded. The train was oh the point of coming to a stand-still when the lion lost his temper. He took a sudden spring at the engine but sought in vain for something on its smooth surface into vflilch he could drive his claws, and thus secure a foothold. Again and again the beast sprang, falling clear of the engine every time. The engineer then realized that the best thlqg to do was to go full steam ahead and trust to the weight of the trucks behind the train on the line to clear the lion from its path. This was done, with the result that the lion —a magnificent specimen —was cut to pieces by the engine wheels.

STAG ALMOST HELD ITS OWN

Animal Running on English Track Kept Fairly Ahead of Train for Bome Miles. A stag, appropriately named Lightning, after being hunted for an hour by the Essex staghounds, jumped on the railroad line near Felsted, in front of a passenger train, and a race ensued, in which the stag kept the lead for four miles. The description “famous,” applied to the stag by a local correspondent, suggests that it had been hunted by the hounds on many previous occasions. It was brought dp to Smith’s farm in a cart and liberated, the hounds being then put on its trial. They were quite close to the stag when it sought refuge on the railway. Finally the stag, with foam dropping from Its mouth, turned through a fence at Rayne. It was much exhausted, but its four-mile chase by the train had saved it from its natural enemies for the time being, at least. The driver of the train says he blew his whistle several times in the hope that the stag would turn aside, but It never left the track till Rayne was reached. He had to slacken speed several times to avoid running into it. —London Chronicle.

The Railroad and the Auto.

When the electric light first began to be used commercially, something less than 40 years ago, those who were interested in gas plants and gas securities thought their business and lnvestfnents were ruined, but in due time the increased use of gas for purposes other than flight made a demand that permitted properly capitalized and well managed gas plants to suoceed as well as they did before the electric light entered the field. And so It will be with the automobile. Its use will take away for the time being something from the railroads, but in the long run the introduction of the automobile will add more than It takes away. There is a curious economic fact developed by the use of the automobile in passenger business. People who object to the standard railroad fare of three cents a mile and clamor loudly for a reduction to two cents a mile will pay 10, 26 or even 50 cents a mile for being carried In an automobile. — Howard Elliott, President of the Northwestern Pacific, in Leslie’s.

Audible Airquakes Now.

The suggestion that there are airquakes, due to explosions of meteorites, and quite independent of earthquakes and volcanoes, comes from no less an authority than W. F. Denning, the astronomer. That such explosions are sometimes audible is well known. Prof. W. M. Foote has just recorded that a large meteorite falling near Holbrook, Ark., at 6:30 m. on July 19, 191?, broke up with a loud noise that lasted half a minute or more, and scattered over a stretch of three miles of sandy desert more than 14,000 of the fragments—* of a total weight of nearly 600 pounds —having been picked up and preserved. The exploding bodies, of course, are not always seen. Other similar Instances have been recorded, and two meteorite explosions noted isl 1877 —on November 20 and 23 — were estimated to have created air disturbances more than a hundred times as violent as a loud peal of thunder.

Too Good to Be True.

Perhaps this newsboy was from Boston, or perhaps h* was only a “supe” in the great melodrama of peddling newspapers. But he was different. He stood by the entrance to the subway at Brooklyn bridge while the raucous cries of his competitors rent the air, “Hur y'ar„ Ex try! Final! Papes!” But this newsboy did not shout. “What paper do you read and enjoy, air?" he asked of each one. "I have it, yes, sir.”

The ONLOOKER

S. E. KISER

MMM

He trained a goose to multiply and ad& up and subtract; , He taught a spotted pig to waits—lt wagl a funny act; He coaxed a billy goat to Jump through! hoops which were aflame. He taught a chipmunk how to choose the letters of its name. But he could never learn to cease to us* his toothpick where > ■ And when such action gave offense—or else he did not care. He trained a dog to walk a rope and taught a cat to pray, He said himself this took hard work: which lasted many a day; He hitched an alligator up and made it pull a cart, Hts perseverance was Immense, his teaching with an art. But he could never train himself, somehow, to save his life. To quit endeavoring to scoop his food up with his knife. He trained a mouse to dance a' Jig, ha educated flees; He had a carriage which was drawn by harnessed bumble bees; He taught a. turkey gobbler how to balance on his head. And trained a duck to flatten out pretending to be dead. But he Could never train himself—or else _ he never tried— To speak good English and to put vulgarity aside.

Self-Made.

“Do you see that large woman with the diamond tiara and the bejeweled fingers?” “Yes. What is remarkable about her? She appears to be commanding a good deal of attention.” “It is. pretty well known that she forced her daughter to marry old Rockingham for his money.” “Oh. A self-made mother-in-law, eh?”

His Faulty Memory.

"Has your husband a gbod memory?” “Excellent, in some respects. He can always remember the name of every good-looking woman he meets, but he can’s seem to get over the habit of forgetting to tend to the furnace. ” 1 s

Another Miracle.

“See that automobile—the big, red one there close to the sidewalk?” “Yes. What about it?” “Most remarkable. I’ve been watching it for twenty minutes. A messenger boy passed it a . little while ago without stopping to toot the horn ”

GETTING IN LINE.

Weight.

"Science,” said Mr. Hooperswalt, “has demonstrated that the earth weighs 13.000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 pounds. “Goodness me!" replied his wife* “it’s a good deal heavier than Taft, isn’t it?”

Man and His Thoughts.

A man may think he is thinking and still have glimmerings of Intelligence. When he thinks other people think he la thinking there is no hope for him.

Good Word for John.

“You have a son in the regular army, 1 believe?” “Yes, Bill. But John turned out all right He’s workln’ for a livin’."

A Sign.

When a man gets sick of a town it is a sign that the town got sick of him first

Cold-blooded.

“Sir, Rudolf the lion has Just blttea off his trainer’s arm.” “In that case Rudolf won’t need any dinner,” said the heartless proprtetes of the show.-

“You never have won a medal for bravery, ha v e you?” she sneered. “No,” he replied, “but I’m going to earn one right now. Will you bo my wife?”