Indianapolis Journal, Volume 54, Number 94, Indianapolis, Marion County, 3 April 1904 — Page 29

THE INDIANAPOLIS JOURNAL, SUNDAY, APRIL 3, 1901.

P-AlItT THREE. h I g Youngsters Greet a Relative domestic help required to free the Visitor at the New Day Nurs

i r i e, i

house from ashes and soot s -A Local Institution WHicK Cares for Little Chil . J , -,..- w. - - s- .'. r Ter- - y . "

ys. .. - , ,.,(. . . ... ; .

A

Vit iff - '! ;T' Frofastor Grn's LocKed-Up WHose Owner LONG tbo highways or byways of commerce is seldom found, probably, a little shop which could safely do business with its front doors kept locked from Tnornlng until night, riew Aioany. in southern Indiana, has a locked-up shop, however, not two blocks from the stirring heart of business life, and its owner. Prof. Georgs Kennard Greene, does not find that liia unusual system of shopkeeping at all 'interferes with his money receipts. He keeps a geological shop first, a curio shop next, and in the last classification a tin chop. The fossil trade, in the main, comes by mall from colleges, museums and Individual scientific dealers, far and near, and other collectors of fossils who come to purchase ara well content to wait until fmessengers are dispatched to recall the professor from the market house or his ton's near-by commission house. The man of geology also takes a lively detached Interest In the Income and outgo of other products of the soil apples, potatoes, turnips and cabbages. Curio buyers, local or remote, are accustomed to bide patiently until Professor Greene is brought back, to open the doer and place himself behind the counter. If tin-shop customers come and go one tin-

Mir i i

'A

Comedy and Trag'edy Bird Life

The Bachelor Robin. HE back yard was a long, narrow strip, bounded by board fences on the two sides and by the house and the coal shed, respectively, at the two ends. Some straggling T 38 perennials and the remains of flower beds showed it had once been carefully kept, but the last tenants had evidently neglected it. The new tenants had rented it from a neighbor on a near-by corner, but It soon became apparent that Its real owner, by right of discovery and of conquest, was a stately robin. He was unusually large, with the plumpest contour, the reddest breast and the brownest back of all the robins in the neighborhood. Why this especially personable gentleman robin took no interest in the ladies of his race, while all hi3 fellows were engaged cither in courtship or in nest-building, his human watchers could only conjecture. Perhaps a disappointment in love had turned him Into a. temporary misogynist; perhaps the cares of empire weighed too heavily upon him. Whatever the cause, he devoted his existence to patrolling that back yard and defending it from all encroaching Unglish sparrows, and even from all interloping robins. The sparrows came by the half dozen or the score, perched impudently on the fence and watched for a chance to hop down into the yard behind his back. They made Insulting remarks at a safe distance; they disputed his exclusive claim just as far as they dared; they even mocked his motions, for when the robin came up the yard in his usual dignified gait one. two, three, hop, one, two, three, hop the sparrows would form In single file behind him, and, abandoning their usual easy saunter, would mimic his motions one, two, three, hop, one, two, three, hop. But the robin would not tolerate their impudence long. The moment he turned on them indignantly they flew away, only to return to their post of observation on the fence as soon as they dared. Incidentally, while perfo ming his military duties, the robin got his living out of the back yard. He would put his bright head to the ground and listen carefully, wherever he heard Mr. Earthworm laboriously mellowinar the soil Just beneath the surface he struck his beak into the soil two or three times, speared and drew out a wriggling victim, which he devoured with gusto, while the sparrows watched him with horrified eyes, as seeming to say: "Eating worms! How disgusting! Why doesn't he live on garbage and manure, like all persons of true refinement?" For two weeks the robin valorously held that back yard against all comers, from dawn till dewy eve. Then something happened. .It may well be suspected that the little god who is always lying in wait for the undoing of bachelors got in some of his finework. Discipline relaxed. Sometimes it was ns late as 10 o'clock before the robin arrived to patrol his yard and scatter his enemies. Then lor a day or two he was absent altogether. Again he returned, this time accompanied by a lady robin, to whom he proudly exhibited his domain. The lady was not impressed. She sat on the fence and obstinately refused to be coaxed down Into the yard. With the practical wisdom of her sex she pointed out that the yard contained no tree or other suitable site for a home. Sadly the robin withdrew, no ISner a free and independent bachelor, but a subdued and humble benedict, and the back yard knew him no mere. A Great Slnxer. The Youngest Doy had built a wren's house, with great labor and many smashlngs of untraimd little fingers, and mounted It on a pole near the back porch. It rould hardly be called an architectural success, but It would keep out sun and nln, and the tiny doorway, while it would admit a wren, was too small for the ubiquitous "spooks," as the boys call the English sparrows. Th Youngest Poy watched with devourlr. anxiety to see whether hL house would I., i;, ;. roved. When two or three days went i y Mi I ro wren had given It more than a curs-ry gl.mce, be became almost frantic. At last o pair of wrens were seen to examine it with attention. Hope revived, and th boy twoke at dawn to watch, and sprnt a!! his time out of school in vigilant observation. , At last he was made sure the wren w: seen carrying bits of grass and ptrlna nn horse huh to th little hous The English sparrows were enraged. That yard b!nin--d to them uo wre:is were wanted. They could not get into the littl" hoMJv th Youngest Poy had looked out for that but th-y flew past, making insultlng rf!t:ark; they sat on the roof of the house tho houflt that the opIe lived in. that Is ar.di on tr.e near-by locust tree, and chat

II i T, V-' " ' ' - --: ';-:- '- -I r - I 4, 1 m ' 11 "Lochod - Up Shop1

C-urio SKop Still lias Patrons

cup, more or less, is not regarded as having noticeable bearing on the world's great store of geological data. Southern Indiana. Professor Greene states, Is the best fossil nld in the world an unsurpassed radius for fossil? and corals existing around the Ohio falls and for thirty miles north and south of the Ohio river. Some times the geologist spends long days at his favorite fossil grounds, and at other times he brings barrels of fossil-laden poil home with him in his wagon to be Inspected at leisure. In the locked-up shop and ir four or Ave storerooms adjoining Is arranged in countless well-labeled boxes, drawers and cases, the owner's large and valuable collection of more than 40,l0 fossils, some of them unmatched the world over. Curios of all kinds are to be seen in the shop, on shelves and counters, in glass cases and boxes. Among the most curious objects are old coin?. Confederate money, fractional currency, stuffed birds and small animals, Aiexicnn pottery, shells and carved nautilus shells, deer and buffalo horns, stuffed alligators, bowie knives, civil war guns and pistols, drums and canteens, Mexican war guns, Egyptian relics, Japanese armor, shot, shdl and canon balls, -old books and newspapers, war songs, autographs, medals, cameo?, gems and jewels of all kind.?. For several years Professor Ureene has been engaged on avaluable treatise on new forms of fossils entitled "Contribution to Indiana Paleontology," issued in pamphlet numbers, each illustrated with three finely engraved plates. After the Chicago world'.s fair this unique curio shop was established at Indianapolis for many months, on West Market street and then on South Illinois treet. tered and scolded and shrieked. One day ä whole army of them camped in the locust tree, keeping up a regular chorus of objurgation and denunciation, making spiteful dashes at the wrens house perhaps serving notice on them to k-ave the yard if they did not want to be mobbed. In some way the news of the attack got abroad. Two other pair of wrens came to the help of their friends. It was a regular Concord and Lexington. "The British regulars fired and fled." The American birds dashed furiously at the foe, who must have outnumbered them ten to one, and sent them flying, with ignominy. Then paeans of victory rose. The sparrows did not trouble the wrens again. All wrens are fine singers, but the wren who had taken the boy's house was an extraordinary one. The boy's mother recognized his song at once. "That is the bird I have heard singing in this neighborhood for two years past," she exclaimed. "I've wondered and wondered who among the neighbors owned such a marvelous canary, with a song of such sweetness, power and variety." Every day at dawn, and again at 6 o'clock and at D, the tiny creature sat on the ridge-polo of his little house and sang and sane: and san?r. He did not "sing to the wide world," like Lowell s "little bird;" his song was all to his own true love. Such melody, such rapture, such fire! What variety in his soner, how long it continued, how it rose and rose in superb crescendo to the sapphire dome of the sky! It even excelled the brilliant performance of the catbird in the orchard at the end of the street, who sang every evening at sunset as Ions: as he could discover a human lis tener to appreciate him sans real bird operas, composed with care and thought, skillfuly weaving in and combining the songs of all the birds around, even Intro duclng effectively such discords as his own "new" and the harsh cry of the blue-Jay. The wren's rapture of love and poetry and lyric fire compared with this gifted musician's performance as the poetry of Burns does with that of William Watson the one all geniU3 and nature, the other all skill and art. And then and then oh! cruel, piteous sequel! A boy In the neighborhood, not a child, but a youth of seventeen or eighteen. tried his air gun on the little feathered atom of poetry and genius, and the glorious song was hushed forever. The poor little widow sat all day on the porch in front of her house mourning and mourning for her love. She did not leave the place for a mouthful of food, .though the youngest boy placed a tempting array at the foot of the pole. Her friends thought she would grieve to death. But after a day or two she roused herself to take up her maternal duties. Perhaps the hot weather had saved, her eggs from chilling. perhaps she had not yet begun to sit when her great sorrow came. At all events, she finally hatched out three little wrens, and undertook the herculean labor of feeding them all alone. The youngest boy helped by keeping large supplies of food close at hand, and she contrived to keep the hungry three Satisfied. More than one gallant gentleman of her race came and offered to share her labors, but she drove them away with contumely, even with fury. "Could any one dream that I, the adored wife of the great port of our racr, would marry a mere ordinary wren for the sake of being supjorted? seemed to bo her view of the case. She brought her babies up 1 until they could fly. then all went away and the little house, the scene of such Joy and genius and sorrow, remained forever after un tenanted. The Denth-AVntch In the AVnll.' Nlht after night she could not sleep, for th?. ticking sound in her room. It did not sound quite like a "death-watch." but what else could it be? To" have a "deathwatch" camp in one's bedroom i an irre para bio calamity to a person who cannot sleep when she hears anything ticking, for ono cannot capture the insect and wrap it in towels and shut it up in a drawer as he can a noisy watch. On the last of these wakeful nights a thought occurred to her: "It is actually cool to-night; I will burn up the paper in the stove." A small stove was kept standing in the sitting room under her bedroom during the summer. It was her custom to put scraps of waste paper into it and burn them up when a chilly night or morning came. But this summer had been so hot that they haj.1 not bren lighted and the stove was full of paper. She touched a match to the paper, it caught and the house was filled with smoko the stove would not draw at all. But the moment the fire began the ticking grew louder, more irregular, developed into unmistakable bird chirping-, then changed to bird shrieks of anguish and dispalr as the smoke grew thicker, then were silenced In suffocation. "Poor birdies!" she thought, as she threw open doors and windows "lest her family should share the fate of the birds, "1 hail no idea chimney swallows were making that noise, and "indeed it didn't sound like the chirping of chimney swallows, who had often built in a front chimney never used in warm weather. Next day she proceeded to investigate the conduct of the stove In refusing to draw. Thf stovepipe was removed and found to be clear. Then she mounted a strpladder to examine the high hole into the chimney, and behold! it was completely stopped by a nest not th mud-plastered nest of a chimnry swillow. but a structure of sticks and straw that the English sparrow had recklessly built right across the hole where thf stovepipe entered. Why the sparrows had chosen that dark and sooty place, at lerxt twtnty feet below the top of the clilmney. and how they . expected to get t'jir children out of it are questions of iiyptery. Apparently, the old blrd3 had seaped, but live well-fledged nestlings lay idead hi the nest.

dren Whose Mothers Are at Work Through the Day, and Also Affords Temporary Shelter for Juvenile Court Boys... A Deserving Charity with Keeds Still Unsupplied

E said his name was Albert. Otherwise, perhaps one might not have believed it. Albert is at that embarassing age when the sexes are clad In H discriminately in dresses, and his little peasant pinafore of blue checkered gingham gave no hint of gender. But his delicate, sensitive face, his big, long-lashed brown eyes, and, most of all, his fine flaxen hair, curling up at the ends and twisted at one side into an infinitesimal pigtail, tied with a blue ribbon, deceived one into the belief that he was of the feminine persuasion, and suggested the question: "And what's this nice little girl's name?" The blue-checkered one, who sat sideways on a little red kindergarten chair, dropped the corners of his mouth, and the big brown eyes widened to tearfulness. "He isn't no girl," hastened Bernicia from the other side of the low kindergarten table, file's a boy, an he's Albert." "An I'm Albert," echoed the blue-checkered one with reproach in his tone. Albert is or, rather, was one of the Day Nursery children, who greeted a visitor ono sunny afternoon last week. He is no longer numbered among the Day Nursery clan, because he was sent out last week to a home found for him by the society which sent him for a few weeks to the charge of the Day Nursery. When Albert left there was no doubt as to his right to his masculine cognomen, for he was clad in one of those sturdy Bussian blouses which never, by any chance, fall to the lot of femininity, and his outfit Included several other distinctly masculine suits. So that by this time the noncommittal peasant pinafore of blue-checkered gingham will have ceased to stir rancor in his soul by forcing him lo be numbered with the weaker vessels. As it takes all kinds of people to make a world, so does it take all kinds of children to make up a Day Nursery, and beside Albert and his pigtails and pinafore, which hint at femininity, there are boys who would never be taken for anything but boys, girls whose high spirits make them merit the pseudo-masculine title of tomboys, shrinking little maids, who are essentially feminine, and ell the other kinds 'of children that one finds everywhere else In the world shy children and bold children, happy children and fretful children. The Day Nursery Home, which is now situated in a pleasant house at G02 East Market street, reminds one somewhat of the famous shoe, where the old woman lived, though the resemblanco to that famous shoe ctops short at the number of occupants, for the two matrons who have charge are so busy that they never have time to get in that state where they "don't know what to do," and spanking is an unknown quantity. There were four children at play over the long kindergarten tablo in the sunny west room- of the home and a fifth kicking up his heels in a crib beside them the afternoon the visitor from the Journal walked in. The children are used to visitors and most cf them made friends at once, the matrons, who were at luncheon, merely peeping in to see who had entered and then leaving the room to the children and the visitor. STORY-BOOK NAMES. Bernicia was the only lady present beside the visitor, and she presided over the ceremonies with a calmness and dignity that would do credit to an accustomed hostess. Bernicia, despite her romantic name was pinafored and blue-checkered like Albert. The obstreperous one of the room was Roy, whose long curls and feminine apparel led to another confusion of genders, though his vigorous and unintermlttcnt action soon placed him unmistakably on the masculine side. One of Roy's eyes was swollen shut with a cold, and as the bandage he wore kept slipping down over the other eye also, in consequence of his violent exertions, his onslaughts were staggery and uncalculated, and it was all one to him whether his choo-choo ran down a clear track, through Albert's house of blocks or over the visitor's lap. The one knickerbockered boy of the room announced himself clearly, though shyly, on request. "I'm Carl Algernon Smith," he said, and one felt assured that If there had been any more of him he would have said so. "An" he's new," added Bernicia, the explanatory. The fifth morsel of humanity who lay kicking his heels In his crib, an empty milk bottle beside testifying as to the cause of his joy. was Edgar. 'The best baby in the world." explained the assistant matron as she hurried in from her lunch, gathered Edgar out of his crib and set him right side up on the floor, where he gurgled happllv as he tried to cram the big building blocks that the other children had been playing with down his throat. The matron's arms already held one baby: she had eaten her luncheon with the frail little atom held on her bosom, and now she sat down to talk with the little creature lving pale as a snowdrop across her fresh "gingham ruflles. This is the most pathetic baby in the nursery little Sarah, who. though not yet a year old, has a shattered nervous system. She is the baby who not long ago was torn from her mother's arm by lightning, and though she was left without a scar she is a nervous wreck. A few weeks apco the mother went suddenly insane and locking -Iter two children in a room together went away, leaving them alone. For days after the baby was brought to the home she cried incessantly not with tears, but with dry sobs and whispers that were intiinitely worse. Now she is quiet when she is held, but her little palllcd face, her languid little hands that reach out idly now and then after a plaything, or a friendly finger, only to drop half way as though the effort were too much, make her calm as pathetic as her fretfulr.ess. The life of the Day Nursery home befcins very early in the morning. The Day Nursery paft of the work is the last of It for there are now In the home thirteen boarders besides the little prisoners of the Juvenile Court, who are placed in the home awaiting their trials, and one can imagine the task It Is to get so large a number j of children up and started for the day. 1 Mothers who have one sleepy head to rout

out of bed in time ,for school can feel for I the two busy women who have anywhere I

from fifteen to twenty to look after. The dormitories are on the second floor. A big pleasant blue room for the girls has little white beds of all sizes, from the little ralled-around one, fit for the wee maid who doesn't quite know yet how not to fall out of bed, to the longer unralled beds for the big girls. The boy's dormitory is as light and airy as that for the girls, though it is not quite bo prett yin the way of furnishings. All the children are taught to be neat, and the boys as well as the girls make their own beds, the matron standing by to watch and supervise the 'spreading and tucking. " 'Aint this a good one," one boy will say exultantly, as he smooths his spread, but the matron's eye is quick to detect a wrinkle in the sheet or blanket beneath, and the thing is done over until the row of little beds is as smooth as the most tyrannical housewife could wish. PLENTY TO EAT. The meals for the children are all good and wholesome and none of the growing appetites is stinted. Necessarily there are few dainties or fancy dishes, but there are good meats and vegetables and plenty of bread and milk. The boarders have their bed and meals and the nursery children a hearty luncheon and supper and care through the day. The sums paid are, of course, very small 5 cents a day for the nursery children and a very small sum for the weekly board. The home is designed to help those mothers who have to take on themselves the burden of support and who have no one with whom to leave their children. Many a poor mother, bending an aching back over washtub or scrubbing brush, is comforted through the day with the thought that her baby is being well looked after, and the women who support the nursery are doing one of the noblest works among the charities of the city. The boarders are children whose mothers are obliged to be away from home all week, and the benefit of such a home to them is almost Incalculable. After breakfast the older children are started off to school, the wee ones trot olT to kindergarten, which is only a square away, and the matrons are left alone with the tiny babies to look after. At noon the children swoop in to lunch and the kindergarten ones remain at tha home through the afternoon. On pleasant days they play out of doors, as do the older children on their return from school; but they all remain in flight of the house, and come obediently at call. Supper for the little ones is served at 5; the other children have theirs later, and bedtime, which is not put at any special hour, comes in between 8 and 9 o'clock for most of them. Usually there are a greater number of day boarders in the home than were In evidence last week, but the recent deluge prevented the attendance of some of the tots who are usually numbered "among those present." The number of "habitues" of the nursery.include a second Roy, who is recognizably of the masculine gender, his knickerbockers and roundabout classifying him even to the casual observer. Arthur is another of the usual attendants in nursery circles, and according to accounts he is one of the most Interesting of the little group. Like the cherubim and seraphim he continually doth cry, nobody has yet been able to discover the precise reason for his tears. The little Big Sister who accompanies Arthur is noncommittal on the subject, either from inability or disinclination to tell, the only known fact in the case being that any word addressed to Arthur sends him off into an alarming series of "boo-hoo3." One morning the entrance of the fat black washerwoman started the usual convulsions of tears and cries, and as it was supposed that . the small man had taken fright at her black ness the good-natured mammy was hurried from the room. The cries were redoubled, however, and then somebody suggested that perhaps he was crying, for her, hot at her; no mammy returned and gathered the weeping morsel into her comfortable arms, and immediately his cries were hushed. Perhaps somewhere back in his short experience Arthur has known the petting of a colored mammy and he knows that the black skins sometimes cover the whitest kind of hearts. Anyway he never fails to cry for her now when once he has caught sight of her. and he isn't happy, either, till he gets her. . The little prisoners of the Juvenile Court the "court children," as they are known in the home are usually kept in a room on the third floor. In the past week or two, however, they have been put into the boys' reading room on the second story, as an attack of measles affecting two of the boarders of the home led to the necessity of creating an isolation ward. The court children are looked after kindly, given reading matter and playthings, though they are not overwhelmed with things with which to cnWTnat Literary rXT T 1 Mil N ELECTING delegates to the bi ennial, clubs are reminded that the president Is no longer a delegate ex officio, as many members seem to believe. Action on this point was taken at Ixs Angeles two years ago, the by-laws being amended to read as follows: "Each federation, club, national society, or kindred organization of fifty members or less shall be entitled to be represented by one delegate; for a membet ship of between fifty and one hundred, by two delegates; and for each additional one hundred members one additional delegate." A great deal of confusion is said to have attended recent elections of delegates, the terms of this by-law having been apparently overlooked by many. The Legion of Loyal Women of the District of Columbia is making a strong campaign to make education compulsory in the District. A statement prepared by the society giving facts about the condition of children in the District was read at a. recent meeting, the revelations contained being of a somewhat startling character. The school population of the District is estimated at Gü.üüO, and of these, children fully 12,000 not enrolled in school. The Tourist Club of Frankfort was organized In 1S89 with a limit of thirty members. It never has a vacancy longer than the constitution requires for one to be 'filled, and nlmoi half of the members are charter members. The club Is 'divided into two sections, ind each section entertains the other once each year, the

" x y

tertain or amuse themselves, as it is intended that part of their time shall be devoted to meditation. They are necessarily kept locked in, and there is no contact whatever between them and the other children in the home. The two matrons in charge of the home are Mrs. Clara Hall and Mrs. Annie Du Wees. Mrs. Hall has been with the Day Nursery since its establishment here. Mrsi Du Wees entered the home only a few weeks ago, but has been connected with the work of the Children's Home Society for several years, so she is particularly fitted for her position hcre. METHODS OF DISCIPLINE. An incident of the discipline of the home was shown during the afternoon. Roy of the Candaged eye, running his fire engine about the room, careened into Carl, the new one. At the same moment Albert of the blue checkers, with one fell swoop of the hand, demolished the block tower that Carl had laboriously builded. Trouble was imminent. Carl's brow darkened like a thunder cloud and he hesitated between two calls to vengeance. Then his hands flew out toward Albert's flaxen locks. The matron interposed. "Carl, j'ou mustn't do anything like that here," she said. Her voice was sweet and gentle but like steel. "When you build the blocks up you must let them be knocked down again. That is all that is to be done with blocks, you know either you knock them down yourself or somebody else knocks them. No; don't tell me anything about it." as Carl, the new one, broke in with indignant explanation. "Whatever happens here is all over and done with, and we won't talk about it any more. We'll all try to be careful, but we won't talk about it." Carl, the indignant, calmed down and let Albert help him pile the blocks up again. . "I make it a ruleA explained the matron to tho visitor, "never to go into explanations. It excites the children and if I try to get at the root of matters perhaps I end by simpls' being deceived, for some of the children'haven't been taught to tell the accurate truth. So we go on the principle that whatever is done is done, but we'll do better next time. "Do I like the work? Nobody who cares for children could be with them here and not be interested. It is fascinating to watch the different characteristics develop. There is one of the little girls among the boarders who is my right hand at helping me. She does all kinds of little things without suggestions; and there is another who never thinks of little services of that kind, but who looks after the babies with the utmost gentleness. One of the prettiest parts of the thing is to watch the older girls attending the smaller children, rocking them to sleep and soothing them with all the tenderness in the world." Indeed, nobody could spend an hour at the nursery without believing that the work was an Interesting one. As the efforts of the Day Nursery Association become more widely known it is inevitable that there should be a heightened appreciation of its value and a more substantial encouraging of its efforts. The work of the association has grown greatly In the past few years and the present home is the most nearly complete that the nursery has had. It is hoped in time to erect a house especially, for the nursery one that shall be adapted to all its lueds ard requirements. One of the needs of the place that might be easily supplied is suitable reading matter for the little ones. Many people have sent old magazines for the children, but everybody knows that the reading matter in most magazines is not planned for children, so. after the tots have looked the pictures over until they know them by heart the zest is gone. Magazines especially for the children, and those dear books which are half-pfcture half-reading matter, of the .one or two sjilable kind, and which serve to keep the busy little maids employed for hours together, will be welcomed by the matrons and the children.' There are, of course, many other ways in which the home and its iiock of small occupants might be helped, and a visit to the place will suggest the needs to women of tender hearts who remember that saying which concerns "the least of these." Clubs are Doing character of the entertainment always be ing a surprise and humorous. At the meet Ing last week Section 2 entertained Section 1, at the home of Mrs. It. N. -Wallace, with a curious use of mirrors. The last number, "A Good Example," was especi ally Interesting, as the guests sat and saw the hostess being served to an elabor ate feast; theirs came later. The Women's Research Club, of Indian cpolis, held Its guest-day meeting at the home of Mrs. Henry Conde, on Broadway, on last Monday. Mr. Sheerin read an original story entitled, "The Autobiography of Mr. Cartwrlght." "Mr. Sheerin has a very keen sense of humor and his masculine way of putting It was enjoyed by the hearers. The Research Club has been more than fortunate of late. In that two of its members have recently contributed stories of their own writing. Mrs. Wirt Smith's story. "The Financial Crisis," was very good and. gave some clever character sketching. Mrs. Burnet's story, "Genevieve," was an artistic little tale of love and the cloister. The writer's love and appreciation of nature was clearly shown in her true and delightful pictures of outdoor lift. It has !cen a reproach to the coeducational colleges of the West that, while they offered so many scholarships to young men, they offered so few to young women. With a view to ameliorating what many regard as an unjust state of affairs, the Michigan State Federation of Women's Clubs has given Ann Arbor University $2,000 for a scholarship for women. C. W. Kriel. si la distributer for Wilkle Collins, 10 cent cigtr. Torn Lenton, 5 cent cigar. Euough said.

Where Stoves are used Where Hot IDEAL Boilers and . AMERICAN Radiafors

4THe Fire Bringer;" a Dramatic Poem By an Indiana AutHor.

William Vauß'hn Moody RanKs HigH Among JZ? American Poets, His WorK Having a Classic Quality Equalled By Few Writers.. .Review of His Latest Volume ILL.TAM VAUGHN MtfODT passed W his boyhood until seventeen at New Albany, on the falls cf the Ohio, ills mother's grandfather was among the pioneer settlers of southern Indiana, and the family homestead was reputed to be the first brick house built in the region. Ills grandfather was among the first to build steamboats for the ante-bellum steamboat traffic between Pittsburg: and New Orleans, and bis father was for a good many years en gaged In this traffic, making constant trips back and forth. The death of his parents broke up the family iu 1SSG, and he went to teach a country school in the Ohio river bottom lands. While teaching here and In New York State he prepared himself for college, and entered Harvard in lSSO, graduating four years later. He spent his senior year in Europe, returning to graduate with his class and read the class poem. The next two years were poent iu post-graduate study at Harvard and as assistant in the Lnghsh department. Since 1S:." Mr. Moody has been connected with the English department of the University of Chicago, but has speut considerable periods of time nway from the university, including extended sojourns ia England and Italy. Mr. Moody btgan writing verse at fifteen, and has practiced the art ever since, composing many youthfully ambitious works in various genres. These he has had the good sense to regard merely as apprentice work in the mastery of a difficult art; and he has published nothing until recent years, when some poems from his hand have appeared in the leading magazines. He made his real poetic debut with a lyrical drama in five acts, entitled 'The Masque of Judgment," a poem conceived on a larger scale than is common in those days. The scenery of the play was suggested by the dolomite country of tho Italian Tyrol, during a walking trip in lbl)7. This is followed by a collection of poems. Two or three Indianapolis students at the University of Chicago have been ia Professor Moody's classes, and one girl, who has the warmest admiration for Professor Moody's work, declares him to bo much like his name moody. "He is the kind of man one never gets close to," she says. "There is an aloofness about him that keeps him apart from his students and from most of his fellow-professors, though he has two or three warm friends among the Instructors who form an exclusive little faculty coterie. Professor Moody's classes in literature are elective courses, "so those who take them do so because they know the man through his work and wish to have the benefit of hi3 instruction; but I think I might safely say that none of the students is drawn into his classes by enthusiasm, the hero worship that forms the basis of the influence of some of the other professors. His remarks in class are eaperly listened to, for at times he says exceedingly clever, things which, though, are never by any chance of the quotable nature; but frequently he takes up his .entire hour in reading his pupils these in "a tone which indicates, without any comment, his opinion. He never attends any of the university functions, and so far as I was able to judge, he withdraws himself from contact with people, though he is not in any sense a recluse." Up to the time of the publication of Professor Moody's first book he was one of the comparatively unimportant figures in the university faculty; he had classes in literature and themes, teaching nine months of the year. When his book was published, the enthusiastic criticism seemed to wake the powers of the university to the fact that in Professor Moody they had an instructor of unusual value, so his work was lightened, and Instead of his nine months' teaching and three months' vacation, the order was reversed, and he now has classes during threw mouths only. Perhaps the most independent American journal of criticism is The Dial. To place the author of "The Fire-Pringer," this quotation from the last issue of The Dial, may serve, since It is accurate enough: "Of the American poets now living, Mr. George Edward Woodberry is probably the '.most distinguished. We' think of but one other, Mr. William Vaughn Moody, who might fairly dispute the claim for this primacy, and if quality alone were to be taken into account, we should be inclined to award the palm to the author of 'The Masque of Judgment' and 'An Ode In Time of Hesitation Mr. Moody. Certainly, judged by the test of their ethical tnvisagment of the late happenings which so deeply concern our national honor and the sanctity of our holiest patriotic ideals, a surer sense of what is eternally righteous is revealed In the work of the younger poet." The ablest critics of literature have, without dissent, given Mr. Moody a place among the foremost Writers of verse now living. The poem In hand. "The Fire-Hringer," Is the first of a dramatic trilogy, the second of which, "The Masque of Judgment," appeared several years ago. The connection between the two in the dramatic secjueneo Is informal, and each is complete in itself. The theme Is Promethean, according to the text of Apollodorus. "And when Zeus determined to destroy the men of the brazen age, Deukalion, being forewarned by Prometheus, built a boat, and putting into It food and drink, embarked with Pyrrha. Zeus sent a great rain from heaven, so that all men were overwhelmed, except a few who tied to the high places. Deukalion was driven upon the darkness of the waters until he came to Parnassus; and there, when the rains had abated, he landed ami made sacrifice, praying for men to repeople the earth. Then Deukalion and Pyrrha took stones and threw them over their heads; those which Deukalion threw became men, and those which Pyrrha threw became women. Also Prometheus gave to them fire, bringing it secretly in a fennel stalk. When Zeus learned of this, he comma aded Hephaestos to hind the body of Prometheus upon Mount Caucasus, and for the theft of fire Prometheus suffered this punisment." Thus Mr. Moody begins his interpretation at an earlier place in the stor than that where Shelley began or that where Mrs. Prowning began. Reminiscent and curious gossip between Deukalion and Pyrrha opens the first act. Th language of the dialogue depicts the da:k epic awfulness and hopelessness of the petition into which the mortals have been thrown by the revengeful oppression of Zeus. Deukalion and Pyrrha are seated against a cliff, where there is a smgll cave, and before the cave a rude altar of earth. Faintly discernible threugh the elarknews Is a mountain slope, and upper stretches of mountain above this, a scene of vast And elemental nakedness. The helpless monotouy is expressed in these lines: Tyrrha : Since the lrne1 raven flow, nor ranie ara'.n. And Btnce the Mack win.l ceasing cast us here, How Ionic nhould the time be? Deukalion: A week, a month. Measureless years, some monicnU. Time It Uea.il.

Air Furnace used

Where Hot Water System used IIAYES BEOS., 437 Indiana Are. ' t f S iv f ' :. s. r. ' "f i HnMili ii Vi i.tinirfwi lullt S William Vaughn .Moody Drowned in th wate of waters, or it II Somewhere aliolishej in the piiinal niuJ. t'aujrht in the rings of Python. wlnm at lusk e)f that la.t öay. innrlnq; in terror frth lie fore we Fh:it the winlows of our Ih.-U. We hanl his from th noith and fixmi the outh. And from the east and went. anl aw him lay His circles roun.l the frothy ihn of the world; Or fle.l alive the !ark. Time Mftty there IiukIw through the abyt-a of radiance with th gods. Into this gloomy condition Prometheus comes, struggles against Zeus, and reawakens hopo in the hearts of men. lie relates and laments his uusucceslul attempts to raid fireTo lipht the passion of the world apaln And n!l man'd veins with music when Pandora appears with the fennel f-talk which the ancient mother used to 'fetch unpolluted tire ia, once a year, to light their he.irts anew." While Prometheus is gone, preparations are made to sacrifice Aeolus and Alcyone, the fast the son of Deukalion and Pyrrha. the latter the daughter of Lykoph-m. for the purpose of mitigating the anger of Zeus. When the sacrifice is ready, however, Prometheus returns with tfjr "t'nto this twnin, man-child and woman-chill. I cive Xho p:.ssln of this elenter.t; This seed of longing:. eubMnnce cf thl love; This x)wer, this purity, this arunvui.m. Let their hands light tho altar of the world. 'Tl yours forevfr. I have brought it home!" The burial of Deukalioa la a' hewn vault of the rock In tho higher mountains a!id the watch of Pyrrha, Aeoius and llhodopo, Pyrrha's handmaiden. Is the origin of the action and the carrying part of the dialogue in Act 3. -Pandora comes to Pyrrha here, anel then Prometheus, who clasps ramlora in his arms. Here enters perhaps tho linest and strongest and certainlr the passage of most sustained pottle vigor of a dram. that is well sustained throughout. Pyrrha prays Prometheus: Leave us not yet before another dawn t'omes bringing surety! Prometheus: He comforted; it is established sure. , HiKht shall arise from lischt, day follow day, .euson meet season, with all lovely figns And iortents of the year. Thet-e fchall not fall; Krom their ajijwlnted dance no wtar Khali swerve. Nor mar one accent o one whirling Ktropho Of that unfathomcd chorus that they sing Within the iorch and laughing lioue or Life, Whicn Time and bpace and Change, bright caryatids. Do meanwhile pillar up. These shall not fail: Hut C, these were the least I brought you hoinv! The sun whose rising and whose g-'ing down Are joy and grief und wonder in the heart; The morn whose tides are iajion, thought, and will; The signs and portents of the spirit year For these, if you would keep them, you must strive Morning and nicht acalnst the Jealous gods With anger, and with laughter, and with love; And no man hath them till he brings them down With love, and rage, and laughter from th heavens Himself the heavens, Lims.-'tf the scornful pd:?. The sun. the sun-thief, tind the famine r-ed That kindles new the beauty of the world. lie tft a ws Aeolus and llhodooe to Lim. For you the moon still ImaRlnth Her loitering and her soft irlssitudcs; Fr you the Pleiades are seven, and one Wanders invisible I .era use of you: Kr you the snake i burnished in the sprinx. ThcMlowcr has plots touching its manf.ige time. Tho queen-bee from her wassailed loru tüi4 hish And hih and Mph into the nuptial blue. Till only one he-role lov r now Flies with her, and her loyal wi.h l irona To the f-leHed one, w hjte dizzy !i-.ol 1'iesareth M:n of ecstiy and death. For your ünkes It was jiokf-i e,f tho. .oul That it shall le a sü wlu-ieon the lr.-vn lias msKht. und the fuur wind4 sUall walX tijion it; Also it haa great livers In the ir.ldst, Fncharted Mands that no s:iilor s-es. And fathomless abysses whre it breeds Mysterious life; yea, each itx tlr.iift i!iuj Flung fiooi the f.sher'a oar-blade in the sua Has rivers, tetnpe-.-t. and eteinitl tibs. I'ntouched at isl.'s, hoi lions beer halle . 1, And fathomless abysses where Is. breeds Inere-dible life, without astonishment. In this language of classic lxauty, and tender, benevolent Import, the author makes Prometheus a mere truly great heroic figure than Is usually Riven to cla?ic heroes to become, iveaue be brings him Into the eWp love and sympathy of tlie re ader. Prometheus Is in Ih'.s m transformed Into a p-.ron of ChristUu spirit, a manly man in the modern cn.e. which make-s him a jjreat character apart from his service os iir--brinK r and a pome, what during Innovation for the writer to attempt. As was paid, the drama is well sustained. Mr. Moody h.-is a r.ire rythmical talent, and unusual ability in nufrcotlve phrasing, fo that e-ne feeds directly the emotional significance. the ethical value tt what he expresses. It 1. imteworthy that one does not nede cpe-c dally the nothettc value of his ver.e till the poem is Hni.she-1. There- are no projecting embellishments to elisligure the lineame-nts e the ytory tho composition is that of a base Inlaid with pearls of speech of continuous smoothness with the base itse lf. If the re J one thinsr in which the author is at fault, it is in his sense of strueture, thrush there Is apparent room for thiferenc of opinion em this question. The drama is a poetry-picture rather than a elrarna of ac-tion. and tho principles of pktoriU art might perhaps as well bo applied In Ju.Krli.K it as dramatic principle-.-. It is a drama which must ic cempre-h nded with a subjective' Insight. Hut that he exaggerates the value e.f incidentals by lengthy poe tic treatment th. re Is no room for questien. Mr. Moody is always free from active strain; he seems to have a retraine-d vigor that Impatts that quality to the poem. In this r--speet he is far superior to the le-adlng elramatists of Kurope, and there is no ene in America that can oempar er thru tries t compete with him in this r sp ct. It can be fairly claimed that in Mr. Mo.eely America has one of the foremost classic tlramatUts not ene of the popular sort, iueleed. for It must be a mind of unusual culture to projrI.v appreciate him in full but oiu; whose di.-dlnguished accomplishment id verse will assure the lading hlylj regarel ef critics of literature. In the poem Prometheus is last xm wrestllnjr with "the bird of God." Houghton. Ml. Tin t t'o. arc the publish

ers ol Mr. Moody ti books.

V

A