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:0L  XLIV. 


SEPTEMBER,  1892. 


No.  5. 


Tf  P  CENTURY 

ILLUSTRATED 
W^ONTH  L^ 


MAGAZINE 


Copyritrht,  1S92,  by  The  Century  Co.)       (Trade-Mark  Registered  Oct.  18th,  1881.)      (tntered  at  N.  Y.  PoJt  Office  aa  Secon_d__£iMi_M-ailMaJlaL- 


iThc  en.ir.  content,  of  th.s  Magazine  are  covered  by  the  general  copyright,  and  articles  must  not  be  reprinted  .vithout  special  permission. 

THE    CENTURY    MAGAZINE 

CONTENTS    FOR    SEPTEMBER,    1892. 
DvoMk •     „ Frontispiece 


Portrait  of  Antonin  ^, ^^        ^    z?        / 

rhe  Grand  Falls  of  Labrador Henry  G.  Bryant    . 

I'lctiircs  by  Harry  hVnn  and  \V.  Taber.  Vrnvrh    Dnvk  Millet 

Between  Two  Fires.     Painted  by %^  T  z^  J     i 

\ntonIn  Dvorak H,  E.  KreJdnel  . . 


643 
656 
657 


661 
670 
671 


proneer  Packhorses  in  Alaska.     I.  The  Advance  .    .  E.  J.  Glare 

I'icturcs  by  Midcolm  Fraser,  W.  Tabcr,  Dc  Cost  Smith,  J.  A.  Fraser,  and  H.  D.  Nichols, 

Christopher  Caumbus.   V.    The  New  World Emilia  Castelar 683 

3olumbra^s''^Emblem. EJna  Bean  Proctor 695 

Slaude  Monet , ^^^'''^''■'  ^'^''""' ^^6 

r      ^■•-':-;:>,^'^"''=^'°""=^"''""=^""'"^-  .    .    .  Anne  Reeve  Aldrich    .    .        .  ^joi 

rrChosTn  Valley.    V.    '.    ".    '.   ".   ".   *•   ■.■.:'.■. Mao' Hallock  Eoote 702 

HerbertMapes!"  (Drowned  August  23d,  1891) Robert  Underwood  Johnson    .  712 

An  Elk-Hunt  at  Two-Ocean  Pass Theodore  Roosevelt 7^3 

Architecture  at  the  World's   Columbian  Exposition.  IV.  Hemy  Van  Brunt  720 

Pictures  by  L.  Rasmussen,  H.  D.  Nichols.  N.  J.  Tharpe,  A.  Brennan,  A.  R.  Ross,  and 

The  Sun'^set  Thrush Elizabeth  A kers       73- 

The  Chatelaine  of  La  Trinite.    IV.    By  the  Author  of  " '1  he  )  ^^^^^^  ^^P^^^^^^. ^32 

Chevalier  of  Pensieri-Vani " ) 

Decorations  by  George  Wharton  Edwards.  Qj;//,„^„  lA'y 

Tintoretto.     (Itahan  Old  Masters) W.  J.Stillman 742 

With  Engravings  and  Notes  by T.Cole 

The  Pictorial  Poster Brander  Matthews 748 

With  eleven  pictures  of  modern  posters.  „        ..  y^  Trz7,^,./,..    77  7.r.,/Y.-V<-  mrf^ 

Thumb- Nail  Sketches.     "Strange  to  Say" George  What  ton  Edivafds  .  756 

Pictures  by  the  author.  „  ,  t  i        t^  t  p,(^n 

A  Mountain  Europa.     (In  two  Parts.)     Part  I John  Fox,  Jr. I^o 

A  BaSorVcounselings Richard  Malcolm  Johnston  .        .    775 

Phyllida's' Mourning Grace  Wilbur  Conant 786 

TOPICS    OF    THE    TIME. 

A  New  Edition  of  "The  Century's"  Cheap-Money  Papers 79^ 

The  French  Assignats  and  Mandats 79^ 

Campaign  Blackmailing  of  Government  Clerks 793 

OPEN    LETTERS.         ^ ~~  _^^^ 

(rhe  Crisis  of  the  Civil  War    J ■<C^^!L:  ^^''f'""''  {fjri'IiJ>       -794 

Francis  bavls  Millet  (AmWtaT Artist  Series :  see  page  65C)  ^mmnm'A.  Lo^n 797 

\       IN    LIGHTER    VEIN. 

Lincoln's  Goose  Nest  Home  -Xr^ AtonzoPJiltrnDa^^ 7j^ 

A  Counter ."   . EdTlh  M.  Thomas 799 

An  Experience -^ohn  Kcndrick  Bangs     ....  799 

A  Stitch  in  Time  Saves  Nine William  Bard  McVickar    ...  800 

An  Undiscovered  Country Samuel  R.  Elliott Soo 

Joe  Jefferson,  Our  Joe Charles  Henty  Webb 800 

Never  l)espair R.  K.  Munkittrick 800 

To  an  iLmerican'  RaJj Horace  S.  Fiskc 800 

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.     t:h^:?'^'!:.?:;';?;X-,';^y-r„.., tub  tkntitrv  CO.  3.1  Ea.st  17tli  street  (Union  S(niarc),  New  York,  N.  Y. 


in  »».  ■■»  »■» 


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the  legal  meaning  of  about  —  as  to 
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"  good  consideration  "  ?  What  is  a 
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Experts  have  furnished  this  informa- 
tion. It  is  also  the  highest  authority 
in  all  matters  of  spelling,  definition, 
etc.  /«  a  business  office  where  there 
is  a  large  correspondence  it  is  as  much 
a  necessity  as  a  type-  writer. 

Col.  Albert  A.  Pope,  President  of 
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ton, says:  "  My  appreciation  of  The 
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-  THE'CENTURy-C0-33-EAST-I7'??STREET-NEWY0RK^ 


Sept.  '93. 


'"     "»     "■»     "'     '«" 


Jin     »»»      m 


f"      "i*^" 


""     '"     "" 


^' 


"y/  these  woodcuts  are  ever  issued  in  a  port/olio  of  fine  proof s  they  •mill  fortn 
such  an  art-ivork  as  one  rarely  sees." — N.   Y.  Times,  March  i6,   1890. 

READY    IN   OCTOBER. 

THE   CENTURY   CO.  announces  to  the  lovers  of  the  fine  arts  the  issue  of  a  lim- 
ited edition  of  1 25  copies  of  a  superb  Portfolio  of  Proofs  of  the  famous  engravings 
of  the  Old  Italian  Masters,  made  by  Mr. Timothy  Cole,  the  well-known  wood-engraver, 

during  a  residence  of  seven  years  in  Italy. 


OLD 

ITALIAN 
MASTERS 

ENGRAVED  BY 
TIMOTHY  COLE 


These  exquisite  examples  of  the  work  of 
the  world's  greatest  artists  have  attracted 
wide  attention  as  they  have  appeared  from 
month  to  month  in  the  pages  of  The 
Century  Magazine,  accompanied  with 
explanatory  text  by  Mr.  W.  J.  Stillman, 
and  by  Mr.  Cole's  own  valuable  and 
entertaining  notes.  Professor  Charles 
Eliot  Norton  says  of  them  :  "  No  engrav- 
ings hitherto  existing  of  the  works  of 
early  Italian  art  give  so  much  of  the 
essential  spirit  as  well  as  of  the  manner 
of  painting  of  these  works  as  this  series 
of  Mr.  Cole's."  Each  engraving  has  been 
made  by  Mr.  Cole  in  the  presence  of  the 
original,  his  method  being  to  photograph 
the  painting  upon  the  block,  and  then  to 
engrave  it  in  the  gallery,  before  the  pic- 
ture. He  has  reproduced  the  work  of 
the  masters  of  art  more  accurately  than 
has  ever  before  been  done  in  black  and 
white. 

The  Century  Co.  has  spared  no  pains 
or  expense  to  make  this  Portfolio  of 
Proofs  the  most  notable  art  issue  of  the 
day.  Each  of  the  67  proofs  is  printed 
on  the  finest  Japan  paper,  size  17^  x  14, 
and  is  signed  by  Mr.  Cole  and  by  the 
printer,  Mr.  J.  C.  Bauer,  professional 
proof-printer  for  wood-engravers,  the  lat- 
ter certifying  that  the  impression  is  one 
of  125  copies  printed  by  hand  from  the 
original  block  or  plate.  The  proof  is 
mounted  on  heavy  Japan  paper,  with 
another  sheet  of  the  same  over  it,  leaving 
a  space  for  the  engraving,  lined  with  gold.  This  is  surmounted  by  a  cover  of  linen 
paper  bearing  the  number  of  the  cut.  Each  engraving  that  is  a  detail  of  a  large  pic- 
ture is  accompanied  by  a  small  outline  drawing  of  the  latter,  so  that  the  engraved 
part  may  be  properly  located  in  relation  to  the  whole  painting. 

The  subscriber  to  the  Portfolio  of  Proofs  will  receive  also  a  copy  of  a  book  con- 
taining the  text  of  Mr.  Stillman's  articles  on  the  Old  Masters  (with  Mr.  Cole's  notes), 
a  .special  edition  of  125  copies  of  which  has  been  printed  on  Holland  paper  to  accom- 
pany the  Portfolio. 

The  edition  of  the  Portfolio  is  absolutely  limited  to  125  copies,  the  price  of  each,  to 
subscribers  only,  being  $175.    Orders  should  be  sent  in  at  once.     Address  for  further 

'"f°™^'^°^  THE   CENTURY    CO. 


New  York,  August,  1892. 


33  East  17TH  St.,  New  York. 


-"<r-      "<•  «■»•  ■ 


-iiiY~~»nn       »!«    ~x»K       mac: 


The-CenturY'Co-33-East-  HV^Streht-NenYot^^ 


»       .11        n»        n»       «»■        na       ■■■       m       nr       ill.       mi         ■».  IBM         »liy  t    -  ill.         .ill  .1«         lit         »1V        Illf         111         .ii        .. 


THE  LIMITED  EDITION.       READY  IN  OCTOBER,  1892. 

ENGLISH   CATHEDRALS. 


the  text  by 
Mrs.  Schuyler  Van  Rensselaer. 


the  illustrations  by 
Joseph  Pennell. 


Readers  of  The  Century  Magazine  are  familiar  with  the  series 
of  articles  on  English  Cathedrals  by  Mrs.  Schuyler  Van  Rensselaer, 
and  the  exquisite  engravings  from  drawings  by  Mr.  Joseph  Pennell, 
illustrating  them,  which  have  been  a  feature  of  the  magazine  during 
the  past  few  years.  These  articles  have  been  considered  the  most 
valuable  and  useful  that  have  ever  been  written  upon  the  subject, 
possessing  both  a  historical  and  a  critical  interest.  Mr.  Pennell's 
drawings  are  masterpieces  of  drawing. 

The  articles  and  their  illustrations  are  issued  this  autumn  by 
The  Century  Co.  in  a  royal  octavo  volume  (7x101^)  of  250  pages, 
costing  $6.00.     There  will  be 

A   LIMITED  EDITION 

of  two  hundred  and  fifty  copies,  printed  on  heavy  plate-paper  from 
type  and  from  the  original  woodcuts  (the  type  is  distributed  after 
printing),  each  copy  numbered  and  registered  by  the  De  Vinne 
Press.  The  size  is  11x141^,  and  the  sheets  are  bound  in  two 
volumes  (boards)  and  untrimmed.  Such  a  superb  collection  of 
pictures  of  English  Cathedrals  has  never  before  been  offered  to 
the  public.  In  this  edition  all  the  full-page  engravings  are  printed  without  type 
at  the  back.  Seals  of  the  tweh^e  Sees  treated  in  the  book  are  reproduced  with  each 
chapter  in  the  Limited  Edition,  printed  in  color  on  Japan  paper.  They  are  pen-draw- 
ings by  Otto  Bacher,  made  from  photographs  of  the  originals  in  the  British  Museum. 
The  price  of  the  Limited  Edition  (to  subscribers  only)  is  $25.  Application  may 
be  made  through  booksellers,  or  to  the  publishers, 

The  Century  Co.,  33  East  17th  St.,  New  York. 

Mrs.  Van  Rensselaer  always  writes 
sympathetically  on  art,  and  her  papers 
on  these  old  cathedrals  of  England 
have  been  one  of  the  most  attractive 
features  of  The  Century.  .  .  . 
And  when  it  is  said  that  the  pictures 
are  by  Mr.  Pennell,  no  further  com- 
mendation of  them  need  be  given. 

—  TAe  Independent,  New  York. 

Mrs.  Van  Rensselaer  is  making  a 
book  which  will  find  welcome  in  most 
libraries. —  The  Churchman,  New  York. 

The  pictures  are  surpassingly  fine. 
— Herald,  Boston,  Mass. 


Mrs.  Van  Rensselaer  is  equally  apt 
in  appreciation  and  criticism. — Eveiy 
Evening,  \Vilmington,  Del. 


THE-CENTURy-CO-33-EAST-I7THSTREET-NEwVbRK^ 


IF 


II       iiv       «»»       m       imi      ■n       lit      Tsn       null       uii        lyif  ivu        ^iri— 


VI.        <lll         ■■!<  vv.         a.«  Vlll         l«y         111         Hf»        lie 


NEW  BOOKS 

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OLD  ITALIAN  MASTERS. 


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ENGLISH  CATHEDRALS. 

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OLD  WAYS  AND  NEW. 

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THE-CeNTURY-Co  -  33-EAST-  I7T?STR.EET-NEW\bRK. 

4 


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The  Gayworthys.     $1.50. 

Leslie  Goldthwaite.     Illustrated.     $1.50. 

We  Girls.     Illustrated.     $1.50. 

Real  Folks.     Illustrated.     $1.50. 


The  Other  Girls.     Illustrated.     $1.50. 

Sights  and  Insights.     2  vols.     $3.00. 

Odd  or  Even?     $1.50. 

Bonnyborough.     $1.50. 

Boys  of  Chequasset.     Illustrated.     $1.50. 

Mother  Goose  for  Grown  Folks.     $1.50. 

Pansies.     Poems.     $1.25. 

DaflFodils.     Poems.     $1.25. 

Holy  Tides.     Poems.     75  cents. 

Bird-Talk.     Poems.     $1.00. 

Just  How:  a  Key  to  the  Cook  Books.     $1.00. 


BOOKS  BY  SARAH  ORNE  JEWETT. 

"  She  is  not  only  one  of  the  sweetest  and  most  charming  of  writers,  but  her  pages  have  all  along  suggestions  helpful  towards  a  kindlier  and 
higher  way  of  living." — The  Literary  World,  Boston. 


Strangers  and  "Wayfarers.    Short  Stories.    $1.25. 
The  Kiag  of  FoUy   Island,   and   Other   People. 

$1.25. 

A  White  Heron,  and  Other  Stories.     $1.25. 
A  Marsh  Island.     A  Novel.     $1.25. 
A  Country  Doctor.     A  Novel.     $1.25. 
Deephaven.     New  England  Sketches.     $1.25. 


Old  Friends  and  New.     Stories.     $1.25. 

Country  By- Ways.     Short  Stories.     $1.25. 

The    Mate    of    the    DayHght,    and    Friends 

Ashore.     Sketches  and  Stories.     $1.25. 
Play-Days.     Stories  for  Children.     $1.50. 
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Tales   of  New   England.        In    Riverside   Aldine 

Series.     $1.00. 


BOOKS  BY  F.  HOPKINSON  SMITH. 

'  WTiether  he  tells  a  story  or  gives  a  sketch  of  travel,  he  is  uniformly  interesting,  often  humorous,  always  deUghtful." 


Colonel  Carter  of  Cartersville.     Tenth  Thousand. 
$1.25. 

A  Day  at  Laguerre's,  and  Other  Days.     Fourth 
Edition.      i6mo,  $1.25. 


A  White  Umbrella  in  Mexico.     Illustrated  by  the 

Author.     $1.50. 
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Illustrated.     $1.25. 


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CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S   SONS'  NEW  BOOKS. 


THREE  NEW  BOOKS  BY  ROBERT  LOUIS  STEVENSON. 

A    FOOT-NOTE  TO   HISTORY. 

Eight  Years  of  Trouble  in  Samoa.     By  Robert  Louis  Stevenson.     i2mo,  $1.50. 

A  graphic  narrative  of  the  struggle  for  the  control  of  these  islands  ;  a  story  in  which  the  native  and  foreign  intrigues,  so 
different  in  their  methods  and  so  curious  in  their  contrasts,  and  the  personalities  of  native  chiefs  and  foreign  represen- 
tatives, play  a  leading  part,  with  the  dramatic  adjuncts  of  the  great  hurricane  and  the  presence  of  the  American  and 
German  fleets. 


THE  WRECKER. 

By  Robert  Louis  Stevenson  and  Llovd  Osbourne. 
With  12  full-page  illustrations.  Cloth,  i2mo,  $1.25. 
Eighth  thousand. 

"  Much  the  most  enticing  romance  at  present  before  the  world." 
— Mr.  Andrew  Lang. 

"  Full  of  vigor,  incident,  and  mystery. "—  N.  V.  Herald. 

"A  stirring  story,  full  of  romantic  incident,  shifting  scene,  and 
dash  and  go." — Hart/ord  Courant. 


ACROSS   THE  PLAINS. 

With  other  Essays  and  Memories.     By  Robert  Louis 
Stevenson.    i2mo,  $1.25. 

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THE  BULL  CALF,  AND  OTHER  TALES. 

By  A.  B.  Frost.     Oblong  i2mo,  $1.00.     Sixth  Thousand. 

"  It  consists  often  stories  told  in  pictures.     It  overflows  with  mirthful  entertainment." — Boston  Sat.  Eve.  Gazette. 

"The  pictures  are  full  of  fun,  and  the  drawing  is  excellent." —    I        "  The  laughter  it  contains  is  irresistible." — jV.  V.  World. 
Christian  Union.  I 


SILHOUETTES  OF  AMERICAN  LIFE. 


l2mo,  paper,  50  cents  ; 


By  Rebecca  Harding  Davis. 
cloth,  $1.00. 

This  is  Mrs.  Davis's  first  collection  of  her  charming  .short 
stories.  They  illustrate,  with  artistic  unity  of  design,  different 
phases  of  American  life  and  character.  The  types  are  national 
rather  than  parochial,  and  are  portrayed  with  insight,  feeling,  and 
humor. 


CHINA  COLLECTING  IN  AMERICA. 

By  Mrs.  ALICE  MoRSE  Earle.     With  75  illustrations. 

Square  8vo,  $3.00. 

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binding,  and  good  paper,  will  be  as  gratifying  to  the  eye  as  the  text 
will  be  to  the  mind." —  Chicago  Times. 

"A  charming  book.  Mrs.  Earle  will  certainly  score  another 
success  with  this  entertaining  book." —  Chicago  Tribune. 


THE  COLONIAL  ERA, 


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"A  singularly  excellent  piece   of  popular  historical  writing.' —    I        "  The  volume  is  ful),  well  arranged,  and  interesting." — Cincin- 
Chicago  Advance.  I    nati  Times-Star. 

THE    OLD    SOUTH. 

Essays,  Social  and  Political.  By  Thomas  Nelson  Page. 

i2mo,  with  portrait,  $1.25. 

"  They  afford  delightful  glimpses  of  aspects  and  conditions  of 
Southern  life." —  Congregationalist. 

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"  Brimful  of  interest  on  every  page." — Christian  Advocate. 


RES  JUDICATAE. 


Papers  and  Essays.     By  Augustine  Birrell.     i6mo, 
$1.00. 

"One  reads  them  with  the  same  pleasure  that  he  listens  to  a 
clever  talker." — Boston  Globe. 

"  He  writes  charmingly  and  entertainingly." — Phila.  Record. 
"  Essays  of  a  very  fine  quality." — JV.  Y.  Sun. 


THE   REFLECTIONS   OF   A    MARRIED   MAN, 


By  Robert  Grant.    i2mo,  paper,  50  cents ;  cloth,  $1.00. 

"  It  is  high  praise  to  say  that  this  volume  is  the  author's  best  work, 
satire  running  through  it,  humorous,  and  not  without  pathos,  and  will 
reflections." —  Boston  Traveller. 

"  An  extremely  readable  little  book."—  Boston  Beacon.  \ 

A   TRAMP  ACROSS  THE  CONTINENT. 

By  Charles  F.  Lummis.    i2mo,  $1.25. 

"  A  really  fascinating  account  of  a  pedestrian  trip  from  Cincin- 
nati to  Los  Angeles.  A  charmingly  and  e.vcellently  written  book. 
There  is  not  an  uninteresting  page  in  the  volume." — N.  Y. 
Tribune. 


Tenth  Thousand. 

but  it  is  praise  not  undeserved.     It  is  clever,  with  a  light  vein  of 

be  found  wonderfully  realistic  by  thousands  who  have  had  similar 

"The  humor  is  delightful  throughout." — Brooklyn  Times. 

FIRST    AID   IN   ILLNESS    AND  INJURY. 

By  Capt.  J.  E.  Pilcher,  U.  S.  A.     i2mo,  profusely  illus- 
trated, leather,  $2.00  net. 

"  A  very  useful  book.  Every  phase  of  accident  is  covered.  We 
commend  it  heartily  to  our  readers,  who,  we  are  sure,  will  welcome 
it  as  a  genuine  friend  in  time  of  need." — Boston  Sat.  Eve.  Gazette, 


Sold  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  post-paid,  by 


CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS,  743-745  Broadway,  New-York. 


Massachusetts,  Boston,  Franklin  Square. 


New  England  Conservatory  of  Music. 

Founded  by  Carl  Faelten, 

Dr.  Eben  Tourj^e.  Director. 

Music.  Literature.  Fine  A  ris. 

Elocution.  Languages.  Tuning. 

This  Institution  offers  unsurpassed  advantages,  combining  under 
one  roof  all  the  above-mentioned  schools,  and  providing  for  its 
students  the  valuable  Collateral  A  dvaniages  of  Pupils'  Recitals 
both  in  Music  and  Elocution,  Faculty  Concerts,  Lectures  on  Theory 
and  History  of  Music,  Orchestral  Rehearsals,  Library,  Gyvi- 
7iasium,  etc.,  all  without  e.\tra  expense.  School  year  from  Sept.  8, 
i8q2,  to  June  22,  1893.  For  calendar,  giving  full  information, 
address  Frank  W.  Hale,  General  Manager. 

Massachusetts,  Boston,  Copley  Square. 

Museum  of  Fine  Arts,    school  of  drawing  and 

Painting.  The  seventeenth  year  will  open  October  3.  Courses 
in  drawing  from  the  cast  and  from  life,  in  painting  and  in  decorative 
design,  with  lectures  on  anatomy  and  perspective.  Principal  in- 
structors: F.  W.  Benson,  E.  C.  Tarbell  (Drawing  and  Painting), 
C.  Hovv.\RD  Walker,  J.  Linden-  Smith  (Decoration),  Edward 
Emerson  (Anatomy),  and  A.  K.  Cross  (Perspective).  Pupils  are 
allowed  the  free  use  of  the  galleries  of  the  Museum.  For  circulars, 
giving  detailed  information,  address 

Miss  Elizabeth  Lombard,  Manager. 

Mass.achusetts,  Boston,  324  Commonwealth  Ave. 

The  Misses  Gilman's  Home  and  Day 

School  for  Young  Ladies.  College  Preparatory,  Regular  and 
Elective  Courses.     Circulars  on  application. 

M.\ssachusetts,  Boston,  10  Ashburton  Place. 

Boston  University  La^v  School. 

Fall  term  opens  Wednesday,  October  5.     For  circulars  address 
Edmund  H.  Bennett,  Dean. 

Massachusetts,  Boston,  17  Blagden  Street. 

Miss  Clagett's  Home  and  Day  School 

FOR  Girls  reopens  October  3.  References:  Rt.  Rev.  Phillips 
Brooks:  Gen.  F.  A.  Walker,  Pres.  InsL  of  Technology;  Mrs. 
Louis  Agassiz,  Cambridge. 

Massachusetts,  Boston,  18  Newbury  Street. 

Miss  Frances  V.  Emerson, 

Successor  to  Miss  Abby  H.  Johnson. 
HOME  AND  DAY  SCHOOL  FOR  GIRLS. 

Massachusetts,  Boston. 

Mrs.   Hoyt's   Home  for  School  Girls 

AND  Special  Students.  The  nth  year  opens  Oct.  ist.  For 
circulars  apply  to  16  Marlborough  Street,  Boston.  ^^ 

Massachusetts,  Boston. 

New  Home  and  Day  School  for  Girls. 

Will  open  October  5,  1892,  3164  Commonwealth  Avenue.  For 
prospectus  address 

Miss  Catharine  J.  Chamberlavne. 

Massachusetts,  Boston,  No.  593  Boylston  Street. 

Chauncy-Hall  School. 

Si.xty-fiflh  year.  Particular  attention  is  paid  to  the  health  and 
individual  training  oi young  boys  and  girls.  Thorough  preparation 
is  made  for  the  Massachusetts  Institute  0/  Technology,  for  Business, 
and  for  College.  In  all  classes  Special  Students  are  received.  The 
High  and  Grammar  School  Departments  open  Sept.  14;  Primary, 
Sept.  21;  Kindergarten,  Oct.  3;  Kindergarten  Training  Class, 
Oct.  12. 


Massachusetts,  Amherst. 

Mrs.  W.  F.   Stearns's   Home  School 

FOR  Young  Ladies. 

Reopens  September  21,  1892. 

Massachusetts,  Amherst. 

Mrs.  R.  G.  W^illiams's  Select  Family 

School  for  Girls.     Free  access  to  Amherst  College  collections  in 
natural  sciences  and  the  fine  arts,  also  to  the  libraries  and  class- 
room lectures.     $350  per  annum. 
Mass.^chusetts,  Amherst. 

Mt.  Pleasant  Family  School  for  Boys. 

Thorough  preparation  for  College  or  Business.     Location  unsur- 
passed for  beauty  and  healthfulness.     For  circulars  apply  to 
Wm.  K.  Nash,  A.  M.,  Principal. 

Massachusetts,  Amherst 

The  Terrace. 

Home  School  for  Nervous  and  Delicate  Children  and  Youth. 
Mrs.  W.  D.  Herrick,  Principal. 

Massachusetts,  Andover. 

Abbot  Academy  for  Young  Ladies. 

Begins  its  sixty-fourth  year  September  15,  offering  enlarged  op- 
portunities, with  superior  accommodations  in  its  new  and  improved 
buildings.  While  continuing  its  finishing  course  of  studies,  a  wider 
scope  will  be  given  to  the  special  course  for  fitting  girls  for  college. 
Address  Miss  Philena  McKeen,  or 

Miss  Laura  Watson. 

Massachusetts,  Worcester  Co.,  Ashbumham. 

Gushing  Academy,   for  both  sexes. 

$200  a  year.     Send  for  catalogue  to 

H.  S.  Cowell,  a.  M.,  Principal. 

Massachusetts,  Billerica. 
Mitchell's    Boys'    School,   is  miles  from  Boston, 
on  the  B.  &  L.  R.  R.     A  strictly  select  Family  School  for  Boys 
from  7  to  15  inclusive.    Fall  term  commences  September  19.    Send 
for  circular  to  M.  C.  Mitchell,  A.  M.,  Principal. 

Massachusetts,  Bradford. 

Carleton  School,  for  young  men  and  boys. 

Superior  training  for  College,  Scientific  School  and  Life.  Best 
home  care.  Number  limited.  Reopens  September  20, 1892.  $600 
per  year.     For  circulars  address  I.  N.  Carleton,  Ph.  D. 

Massachusetts,  Cambridge,  20  Mason  Street. 

The  Cambridge  School.   (Private— /or  ciris.) 

Mr.  Arthur  Oilman  is  the  Director. 


25  boys  prepared  for 


Massachusetts,  Concord. 

Concord  Home  School.  coiiege7scie''ntlfic'lchooi 

or  business.  All  the  advantages  of  family  life  combined  with  best 
mental  and  physical  training.  Buildings  new  and  according  to  latest 
models.     75  acres  of  ground.  James  S.  Garland,  Master. 

Massachusetts,  Springfield. 

Home  and  Day  School  for  Girls. 

"  The  Elms."      Miss  Porter,  Principal.     Certificate  admits  to 
Vassar,  Wellesley,  and  Smith.     Quincy  method  for  children. 

Massachusetts,  Springfield. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  John  McDuflQe's  School 

for  Girls.     Formerly  Miss  Howard's. 
Massachusetts,  Lowell. 

Rogers  Hall  School. 

Prepares  for  Bryn  Mawr,  Smith,  Wellesley,  and  Vassar. 

Eliza  P.  Underhill,  Principal. 

Massachusetts,  Montvale. 

Ashley  Hall. 

Home  school  for  young  ladies.    Ten  miles  from  Boston.     Music, 
Art  and  Modern  Languages.     Thorough  preparation  for  college. 

Miss  Whittemore,  Principal. 

Massachusetts,  Plymouth. 

Mr.  Knapp's  Home  School  for  Boys. 

12  boys.     25th  year.     H.  W.  Royal  (Harv.),  Hd.  Master. 

Mrs.  Knapp,  Principal. 


Massachusetts,  Worcester. 

Worcester  Academy.    59TH  year. 

A  Boys'  School  of  the  highest  grade.  59th  year  begins  Sept. 
15th.  Thorough  preparation  for  any  college  or  scientific  school. 
Certificate  admits  to  various  colleges.     Three  iie'w  biiildmgs. 

School-house  admirably  equipped  with  laboratories,  libraries 
and  Superb  Gymnasium.  Dormitory,  rooms  en  suite,  with  every 
improvement,  including  fireplace  in  each  room.  Isolated  and  per- 
fectly fitted  Infirmary.  Resident  trained  nurse.  Dining  Hall  un- 
excelled in  beauty  of  structure.  Ample  playgrounds.  All  buildings 
heated  by  steam.  D.  W.  Abercrombie,  A.  M.,  Principal. 

Massachusetts,  Worcester.  , 

The  Highland  Military  Academy,  -^ear. 

Classical.  Scientific,  Business,  Primary.  Gymnasium.  Strict  Super- 
vision. Home  Comforts.  Patronand  Visitor,  the  Rt.  Rev.  Phillips 
Brooks,  D.D.  ,  Boston.  Head  Master,  Joseph  Alden  Shaw,  A.  M. 

Massachusetts,  Worcester. 

The  Home  School. 

Miss  Kimball's  School  for  Girls.  Wide-awake,  thorough,  pro- 
gressive.    Send  for  illustrated  circular. 

Massachusetts,  Du.xbury. 

Powder  Point  School. 

Prepares  for  Mass.  Inst,  of  Tech.,  Harvard  or  Business.  22  boys. 
Laboratories.  Individual  teaching.  The  boys  are  members  of  the 
family.     Elementary  classes  for  young  boys.       F.  B.  Knapp,  S.  B. 

Massachusetts,  Greenfield. 

Prospect  Hill  School  for  Girls. 

Prepares  for  College.     Also   Science,  Art,   Music.     23d  year. 
James  C.  Parsons,  Principal. 

Massachusetts,  Wilbraham.  „  c^x.  \,  ^  j  „•  j 
.,_._       ,  «  T  One  ofthe  best  academic  and 

\SreSleyan  Academy,  classical  schools  in  New  Eng- 
land. $200,  one-half  in  advance  and  the  remainder  Jan.  15,  will 
cover  ordinary  tuition,  with  board,  for  the  year,  beginning  Aug.  31. 
Send  for  cata.  to  Rev.  Wm.  R.  Newhall,  A.  M.,  Principal. 

Massachusetts,  Quincy. 

Adams  Academy. 

Preparatory  and  Boarding  School  for  Boys.  Twenty-first  year 
begins  13  September,  1892.     For  all  particulars  address 

William  Everett,  Ph.  D. 
Massachusetts,  West  Newton. 

West  New^ton  English  and  Classical 

School.  40th  year.  A  family  school  for  girls  and  boys.  Prepara- 
tion for  all  high  educational  institutions  and  for  a  useful  life.     For 

catalogue  address Allen  Brothers. 

Connecticut,  Bridgeport. 

Park  Avenue  Institute. 

Excellent  home  school  for  boys.  Advantages  first-class.  Parents 
always  pleased.    $450.     Begins  September  27,  1892.     For  circulars 

address     Seth  B.  Jones,  A.  M.,  Principal. 

Connecticut,  Bridgeport. 

Golden  Hill  Seminary,     a  Boarding  and  Day 

School  for  Girls.  Delightful  location.  Superior  advantages.  Num- 
ber of  boarders  limited.    College  preparation.    Miss  Emily  Nelson, 

Principal;   Miss  Annie  S.  Gibson,  Associate  Principal. 

Connecticut,  Cornwall. 

Housatonic  Valley  Institute. 

Boarding  and  Preparatory  School  for  Girls.     Competent  teachers 
in   each   department.       Exceptional   home   advantages.      Delsarte 
system  of  exercise.    Terms,  $300.    Mrs.  Mary  L.  Storer,  Prin. 
Connecticut,  Fairfield  Co.,  Brookfield  Center. 

The  Curtis  School  for  Young  Boys. 

$500.     17th  year.     My  60-page  book  tells  what  education  means 
for  a    boy  here.     Development  of  character  stands   first  with  us. 
No  new  boy  over  13.    Frederick  S.  Curtis,  Ph.  B.  (Yale, '69). 
COiNNECTicuT,  Greenwich. 

Academy  and  Home  for  Ten  Boys. 

67th  year  of  Academy,  13th  of  Home.    Preparation  for  College  or 
Business.    Absolutely  healthful  location  and  genuine  home,  with  re- 
fined surroundings.    Gymnasium.     References.    J.  H.  Root,  Prin. 
Co.NNECTicuT,  Hamden. 

Rectory  School  for  Boys.  $325  to  $375.  Home- 
like influences,  combined  with  firm  discipline  and  thorough  school 
system.  Extensive  Grounds,  Gymnasium,  Boat-house,  etc.  Send 
for  circular.  Rev.  H.  L.  Everest,  M.  A.,  Rector. 

Connecticut,  Old  Lyme,  Box  12s. 

Boxwood  School  for  Girls. 

Thorough  work  in  English  branches,  Latin,  Greek,  and  French. 
College  Preparatory.     All  the  comforts  of  home. 

Apply  to  Mrs.  R.  S.  Griswold. 


Connecticut,  Stamford. 

Betts  Academy.    54th  Year. 

Prepares  for  College,  Scientific  School  or  Business.  Aims  to  sur- 
round students  with  home  itijluences  ;  to  make  the  individual,  not 
the  class,  the  basis  of  work ;  to  make  the  preparation  of  lessons,  the 
learning  " Jw-w  to  study,"  of  first  importance;  to  have  enough 
trained  teachers  to  enable  each  student  to  advance  according  to 
his  capacity.  Wm.  J.  Betts,  M.  A.  (Yale),  Principal. 

Connecticut,  Stamford. 

Miss  Aiken's  School  for  Girls. 

Thirty-seventh  year.  Circulars  and  Miss  Aiken's  Method  for 
Concentration  sent  on  application. 

Connecticut,  Stamford. 

Miss  Low^'s  School  for  Girls. 

Reopens  last  Wednesday  in  September.    Circulars  on  application. 
Miss  Low.  Miss  Heywood. 

Connecticut,  Stamford.  „     i       -.^.^i.    \.    ^^ 

■»/r  -n   ■!-»         ■_  /-<_n     —  Kanks  With  the  bestin 

Merrill  Business  College,  the  country,  openaii 

the  year.  Both  sexes.  Departments  of  Bookkeeping,  Banking,  Pen- 
manship, Shorthand,  Type-writing,  Telegraphy,  Architecture,  Ger- 
man and  English.  M.  A.  Merrill,  President. 

Connecticut,  Hartford  (Suburbs). 

Woodside  Seminary  for  Girls. 

Terms,  $500  to  $600.  Every  advantage  for  culture,  study  and 
health.     Reopens  Sept.  jjih.    .  Miss  Saka  J.  Smith,  Principal. 

Connecticut,  Norwalk,  Hillside. 

Mrs.    Mead's    School    for    Girls    and 

Young  Ladies  reopens  Sept.  29.    College  Preparatory  and  Elective 
Courses  of  Study.     Vocal  and  Instrumental  Music,  Art,  Languages. 
Certificate  admits  to  Wellesley,  Vassar  and  other  Colleges. 
Connecticut,  Norwalk. 

Miss  Baird's  Institute  for  Girls. 

Twentieth  year.  Primary,  intermediate  and  college  preparatory 
courses.    Careful  attention  to  morals  and  manners.    New  buildings, 

steam  heat,  incandescent  light,  gymnasium.  

CoN.N'ECTicUT,  Waterbury. 

St.  Margaret's  Diocesan  School. 

Advent  term,  eighteenth  year,  opens  September  21,  1892.  The 
Rev.  Francis  T.  Russell,  M.  A.,  Rector. 

Miss  Mary  R.  Hillard,  Principal. 

Connecticut,  Simsbury. 

McLean  Seminary  for  Young  Ladies. 

College  preparatory,  literary  and  English  courses.  French, 
German,  Art,  Music.     Location  attractive,  healthful,  accessible. 

Address  Rev.  J.  B.  McLean. 

Connecticut,  Wallingford. 

Rosemary  Hall,   a  country  school  for  Girls. 

Thorough  Classical  and  English  Course.  Extensive  Grounds. 
Outdoor  Games.     Address  until  Sept.  ist,  Beede's  P.  O. ,  Adiron- 

dacks.  New- York. Miss  Ruutz-Rees,  Principal. 

Connecticut,  Fairfield. 

Home  and  School  for  Young;  Boys. 

Attractive  home,  firm   discipline,  thorough   training,   individual 
attention,  healthful.     Boys  from  7  to  15  inclusive.     Opens  Sept.  22. 
For  circulars  address       Francis  H.  Brewer,  A.  M.,  Principal 
Connecticut,  Litchfield  Co.,  New  Preston. 

Upson  Seminary,    home  school  for  boys  and 

Young  Men.  23d  year  begins  Sept.  14th.  Prepares  for  College 
nrj?usiness.  References:  Pres.  Dwight  of  Yale,  Dr.  Cuyler  of 
t)(|t)klyn.  Rev.  Henry  Upson,  Principal. 

"       Connecticut,  Wind.sor.  A  Home  School  for  Girls 

Young  Ladies'  Institute,  of  all  ages.  Wellesley 
and  Smith  receive  its  pupils  on  certificate.  An  excellent  corps  of 
teachers,  each  a  specialist  in  her  own  department.     Terms,  $350 

to  $500.  Miss  J.  S.  Williams,  Principal. 

Rhode  Island,  Providence. 
Friends   School  for  Both  Sexes.    Founded  in  1784.    Ex- 
cellent   home.       Students    from    18    States.      All    denominations. 
Thorough  work  in  English,  Science,  Classics,  Music  and  Art.     Our 
certificate  admits  to  college.       Address  Augustine  Jones-,  LL.  B. 

Kentucky,  Shelbyville. 

Science  Hill,  an  English  and  Classical 

School  for  Girls.  Oldest  in  the  South.  First-class  in  all  its 
appointments.     Prepares  for  Wellesley.  W.  T.  Poynter. 


yi'B^ 


New-York,  Manlius. 

St.  John's  Military  School. 

Near  Syracuse.  Established  1869.  Civil  Engineer- 
ing Course.  Cl.issical  Course.  Commercial  Course. 
Special  Course.  Modem  Language  Course.  Prepar- 
atory Department     Primarj'  Department. 

Summer  session  begins  June  20th;  regular  session 
September  15th. 

Rt.  Rev.  F.  D.  Huntington,  President. 

Lt  Col.  Wm.  Verbeck,  Superintendent. 

ist  Lieut.  W.  P.  BuRNHAM,  U.  S.  A.,  Commandant. 

For  circulars  and  information  apply  to  Superintendent. 


New-York,  New- York,  19  and  21  East  14th  Street. 

Metropolitan  College  of  Music. 

Piano-forte  teachers'  certificates.  Examiners:  William  Mason, 
A.  C.  M.,  and  Albert  Ross  Parsons,  A.  C.  M.  Dudley  Buck, 
President ;  H.  R.  Palmer,  Emilio  Agramonte,  Clifford  Schmidt, 
Henry  D.  Hanchett,  M.  D.,  H.  R.  Shelley,  C.  B.  Hawley,  are 
among  the  distinguished  members  of  the  Faculty'.  Circulars  sent 
on  application.     -Address 

H.  W.  Greene,  Secretary  and  Treasiurer. 

New-York,  New- York,  No.  4  East  58th  Street. 

Mrs.  Salisbury's  School  for  Girls. 

Facing  Central  Park. 

New-York,  New- York,  19  West  44th  Street. 

American  Academy  of  Dramatic  Arts 

(Lyceum  School  of  Acting).  Fr.^nklin  H.  Sargent,  President. 
Special  classes  during  the  Summer.  The  Regular  Academic  Course 
begins  Oct.  it.     Apply  to  Percy  West,  Business  Manager. 

New- York,  New- York,  63  Fifth  Avenue. 

The  Misses  Graham 

(Successors  to  the  Misses  Green). 

Established  in  1816, 

this  school  continues  the  careful  training  and  thorough  instruction 
in  every  department  for  which  it  has  hitherto  been  so  favorably 
known.     77th  year  begins  October  4th. 

New- York,  New-York. 

Miss   Peebles  and  Miss  Thompson's 

Boarding  and  Day  School  for  Girls. 

32  and  34  East  57th  Street. 

New-York,  New-York,  607  Fifth  Avenue. 

Rev.  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Charles  H.  Gard- 

ner's  Home  Boarding  and  Day  School  for  Young  Ladies. 
Advanced  classes  with  Columbia  College  professors.  Mrs.  Gardner, 
author  of  "  History  in  Rhyme." 

New-York,  New-York,  6  West  48th  Street. 

Miss     Spence's    Boarding    and    Day 

School  for  Girls.  Primary,  Academic  and  College  Preparatory 
Courses.  Special  Students  admitted.  No  more  than  eight  pupils 
constitute  any  class. 

New-York,  New-York,  1961  Madison  Avenue. 

Classical  School  for  Girls. 

Primary  and  Advanced  work.    Certificates  accepted  by  Wellesley 
and  other  Colleges.     Delsarte  Gymnastics.     Reopens  Sept.  28th. 
LiLA  V.  North,  Principal. 

New- York,  New-York. 

The  Misses  Ely's  School  for  Girls. 

(Formerly  of  Columbia  Heights,  Brooklyn.) 

Riverside  Drive,  85th  and  86th  Streets. 

New-York,  New -York,  6,  8  and  10  East  53d  Street. 

The  Reed  School. 

Boarding  and  Day  School  for  Girls.     29th  year  begins  Oct  4. 
Miss  Julia  G.  ^IcAllister,  Principal. 
Mrs.  Sylvanus  Reed,  Visitor. 


New-York,  New-York,  713,  715  and  717  Fifth  Avenue. 

Miss  Annie  Brown's  School  for  Girls. 

The  thirteenth  year  of  the  school  begins  Oct.  4,  1892.  A  third 
house  has  been  added  to  those  already  occupied.  Primary, 
preparatory  and  academic  departments.  The  school  fits  for 
Barnard  and  other  colleges,  and  for  the  Columbia  and  Harvard 
examinations  for  women. 

New- York,  New-York,  106  East  38th  St,  near  Park  Ave. 

Miss  Susan  M.  Van  Amringe. 

Boarding  and  Day  School  for  Girls.  Primary  and  Ad- 
vanced Departments.     Preparation  for  College.     Reopens  Oct.  6. 

New -York,  New-York,  69  East  52d  Street. 

Miss  Crocker's  School  for  Girls, 

Formerly  at  31  West  42d   Street,  will  reopen  Oct.  5  at  her  own 
residence,  69  East  52d  Street.     Classes  for  boys. 

New  -York,  New-York,  32  West  40th  Street 

The  Comstock  School. 

Family  and  Day  School  for  Girls. 

30th  year  begins  Oct.  5.  Miss  Day,  Principal. 


New-York,  New-York,  9  West  39th  Street. 

The  Brackett  School  for  Girls. 

Miss  Anna  C.  Brackett,  Miss  Ellen  E.  Learned,  Principals. 
Twenty-first  year  begins  October  6th.  Address,  Stowe,  Vt.  until 
September  20th.    

New-York,  New-York,  21  East  74th  Street. 

The  Misses  Wreaks'  Boarding  and  Day 

School  for  Girls  reopens  October  3d. 
Circulars  sent  on  application. 

New-York,  New- York,  175  W.  73d  St.        • 

Mademoiselle  Veltin's  School  for  Girls. 

Primary,  Academic,  Collegiate.  Kindergarten  conducted  entirely 
in  French.  7th  year  begins  Oct.  5th.  The  new  building,  constructed 
especially  for  the  school,  will  be  ready  Nov.  isL    160-162  W.  74th  St 

New- York,  New-York,  22  East  54th  Street. 

The  Misses  Grinnell's  Day  School  for 

Girls  reopens  Oct.  4th.     Collegiate,  .Academic,  Preparatory  and 
Primary  Departments.     Kindergarten  Oct.  loth. 

New-York,  New-York,  233  Leno.x  Avenue. 

The  New -York  Collegiate  Institute. 

Primary,  .Academic,  and  Collegiate  Departments.  Certificate 
admits  to  Wells,  Smith,  or  Wellesley  College. 

Rev.  Alfred  C.  Roe,  Principal. 

New-York,  New- York,  325  W.  58th  Street. 

The  Seguin  School  for  the  training  of 

Children  of  ARRESTED  DEVELOPMENT.     Circulars  sent 
Fifteenth  year  begins  Sept  7.        Mrs.  E.  1\L  Seguin,  Principal. 
New-York,  New-York,  9  West  14th  Street 

The  Bryant  School  for  Stammerers. 

Thiriecntli  year.  For  the  correction  and  cure  of  stammering  and  all 
nervous  defects  of  speech.  Pupilssent  iisby  Drs.  Hammond,  Starr, 
Seguin,  Lusk,  and  other  specialists.     Circulars  upon  application. 


New-York,  New-York,  241-243  West  77th  Street. 

Collegiate  School 

For  Boys  and  Girls.  Prepares  for  all  Colleges  for  men  and  women. 
Primary  department.  New  House,  designed  and  built  for  this  school. 
Well-equipped  Gymnasium.  Military  Drill  under  U.  S.  Army 
Officer.     Private  Playground.     Reopens  September  28th. 

L.  C.  Mygatt,  Head  Master. 
New-York,  New-York,  224  W.  58th  Street  (Central  Park). 

St.  Louis  College. 

Strictly  select  private  Catholic  School  for  Boys.    Number  limited. 
John  P.  Brophy,  LL.  D.  ,  President. 

New-York,  New-York,  55  West  47th  Street. 

Miss  Gibbons'  School  for  Girls 

"Will  reopen  September  28.  Mrs.  Sarah  H.  Emerson,  Principal. 
A  few  boarding  pupils  will  be  received.  Circulars  may  be  procured 
at  Putnam's  Book-store. 

New-York,  New-York,  removed  to  735  Madison  Avenue. 

Miss  S.  D.  Doremus'  Boarding  and  Day 

School  for  Girls. 

New- York,  New-York,  10  East  75th  Street. 

Miss  Elizabeth  L.  Koues's 

Boarding  and  Day  School  for  Young  Ladies  and  Children. 
Pupils  prepared  for  College  if  desired.     Reopens  October  5th. 

New- York,  New- York,  425  West  22d  Street. 

The  George  M.  Greene  School  of  Vocal 

Culture  and  Home  for  Students  of  Singing  combines  the 
advantages  of  able  instruction,  home  influences  and  a  refined  mu- 
sical atmosphere.     Circulars  sent  on  application. 

New-York,  New-York,  150  Fifth  Avenue,  cor.  20th  Street. 

E.  Miriam  Coyriere,Teachers'  Agency. 

Eligible  teachers  provided  for  Families,  Schools,  Colleges.  Skilled 
teachers  supplied  with  positions.  Circulars  of  good  schools.  School 
property  rented  and  sold^ ^__ 

New-York,  New-York,   25   Clinton  Place. 

N.  Y.  Educational  Bureau. 

Best  Teachers  in  all  lines  supplied  free.  Large  list  of  Normal  and 
College  Graduates. 

New-York,  New-York,  200  West  23d  Street. 

The    New-York    School    of   Applied 

Design  for  Women  ofiers  thorough  instruction  in  wall-paper  and 
carpet  designing.  Specialty  of  Architectural  Dep't.  Catalogue 
Jree.    For  further  information  apply  to  Miss  Ellen  J.  Pond,  Sec'y. 

New-York,  New- York,  75  West  126th  Street. 

Boarding  and   Day   School  for  Girls. 

Primary,  Ac.idemic  and  Advanced  Classes.  Individual  instruc- 
tion.    Reopens  September  27th.  The  Misses  Smuller. 

New-York,  Brooklyn, 

Joralemon  Street,  between  Clinton  and  Court  Streets. 

The  Packer  Collegiate  Institute. 

A  school  for  the  thorough  teaching  of  young  ladies.  Collegiate, 
Academic  and  Primary  Departments.  The  ne.xt  term  will  begin 
September  26,  1892.  New  students  will  be  assigned  to  classes 
September  21,  22  and  23.  There  are  no  extra  charges  for  instruction 
in  Latin,  Greek,  German,  French,  Drawing  and  Gymnastics.  An 
attractive  home,  under  Uberal  management,  receives  students  from 
out  of  town.  The  forty-seventh  annual  catalogue  sent  on  appli- 
cation. T.  J.  Backus,  President  of  the  Faculty. 

New-York,  Brooklyn,  138-140  Montague  St. 

The  Brooklyn  Heights  Seminary. 

Bo;irding  and  Day  School  for  Girls.  The  42d  year  opens  Sept. 
29th.     Address  for  circulars  as  above. 

New-York,  Brooklyn,  525  Clinton  Avenue. 

Miss  Rounds's  Day  School  for  Girls. 

Admits  on  certificate  to  leading  colleges.  Diploma  for  completed 
courses.  Special  attention  to  individuals.  Preparatory  department. 
Ample  grounds.     Best  sanitary  conditions.     Opens  Sept.  21st. 

New-York,  Brooklyn  Heights,  50  Monroe  Place. 

Miss  Hall's  School  for  Girls 

Reopens  October  6th.     Eight  resident  pupils  received. 


New-York,  Brooklyn,  160  Joralemon  Street. 

Miss  Katherine  L.  Maltby,  B.  A.,  formerly 

Principal  of  the  Nassau  Institute,  will  open  her  spacious  and  inviting 
residence,  160  Joralemon  Street,  Brooklyn,  September  22,  1892,  for 
the  reception  of  Young  Ladies  who  desire  to  spend  a  winter  in  the 
city  in  the  enjoyment  of  its  Art  or  Musical  advantages;  for  students 
who  will  attend  the  sessions  of  day  schools  in  Brooklyn;  or  for  pupils 
who  wish  special  instruction  under  her  charge.  Address  for  circular 
Fourth  Year.  Miss  Maltby,  Principal. 

New-York,  Albany, 
St.    Agnes   School.  under  the  direction  of  Bishop 

Doane.  22d  year.  Full  courses  of  study,  from  Kindergarten 
through  Harvard  Course  for  Women.  36  instructors.  For  catalogue 
address  St.  Agnes  School. 

New- York,  Binghamton. 

The  Lady  Jane  Grey  School. 

Mrs.  Hyde  and  Daughters'  Home  School  for  Young  Ladies  and 
Little  Girls.  Special  and  regular  courses.  Prepares  for  College 
and  European  travel.  Address  Mrs.  Jane  Grey  Hyde. 

New-York,  Canandaigua. 

Granger  Place  School  for  Young  Ladies.  The  17th 

yearwill  open  Sept.  2ist.  Boarding  and  Day  School.  Preparatory, 
Academic,  and  Collegiate  departments.  Certificates  accepted  by 
leading  Colleges  and  Universities.    Caroline  A.  Comstock,  Pres. 

New-York,  Long  Island,  Garden  City. 
Cloint  t>anl'c  <S/^Vinr>1        Prepares  for  the  best  Colleges, 
Saini  J-'aUl  S  aCnOOl.     scientific   Schools,   and   Busi- 
ness.    Fifteen    masters.     Thoroughly   equipped    Laboratories  and 
Gymnasium.     Military  Drill  under  U.  S.  Army  Officer. 

Charles  Sturtevant  Moore.  A.  B.  (Harv.) ,  Head  Master. 
New-York,  Garden  City. 

The  Cathedral  School  of  S.  Mary. 

College  Preparatory  School  for  Young  Ladies.  New  building. 
Superior  accommodations.     Reopens  September  21,  1892. 

Miss  Julia  H.  Farwell,  Principal. 
New-York,  Long  Island,  Hempstead. 

Hempstead  Institute.  fedVoTthe'c^arfinTelS: 

cation  of  Young  Boys.  For  circulars  describing  methods,  with 
copies  of  letters  commending  in  the  strongest  terms  those  methods 

and  their  results,  address E.  Hinds,  A.  M.,  Principal. 

New-York,  Aurora. 

Cayuga  Lake  Military  Academy. 

For  illustrated  circular  address 

Col.  C.  J.  Wright,  B.  S.,  A.  M.,  )p  .„■„,. 
or  Alfred  K.  McAlpine,  A.  M.,  ^*^"n"Pa's- 
New-York,  Aurora,  Cayuga  Lake. 

Wells  College,  for  W^omen. 

Three  Collegiate  Courses.    Music  and  Art.   Location  beautiful  and 
healthful.     A  refined  Christian  home.     New  building  with  modern 
improvements.     Session  begins  Sept.  21,  1892.     Send  for  catalogue. 
New-York,  Claverack. 

The   Claverack   College  and   Hudson 

River  Institute  for  Young  Men  and  Women  will  open  its  39th 
year  September  19th.     For  catalogues  address 

Rev.  A.  H.  Flack,  A.  M.,  President. 

New-York,  Tivoli-on-Hudson. 
1  rinity    oCnOOl.       Location    and    surroundings    unsur- 
passed.     Equipment   complete.      Gymnasium,   drill  hall,  bowling 
alleys,  etc.    Thorough  preparation  for  college,  scientific  schools  or 
business.  J  AS.  Starr  Clark,  D.  P.,  Rector. 

New- York,  Kingston-on-Hudson. 

Golden  Hill  School  for  Boys. 

Classical,  Scientific  and  English  Courses. 

John  M.  Cross,  A.  M.,  Principal. 

New-York,  Clinton. 

Houghton  Seminary  for  Young  Women 

Affords    finest    advantages    for   culture    and   social    training,  with 
thorough  preparation  for  the  best  Colleges.      Sanitation   perfect. 
For  illustrated  catalogue  address       A.  G.  Benedict,  Principal. 
New-York,  Clinton. 

Cottage  Seminary. 

A  good  home  and  school  for  Young  Ladies. 
Opens  September  6th. 

Rev.  C.  W.  Hawley,  A.  M.,  Principal. 

New-York,  Peekskill. 

The  Peekskill  Military  Academy. 

Wth  year.     Send  for  illustrated  catalogue. 

John  N.  Tilden,  A.  M.,  M.  D.,  Principal. 


g5  <y  (SSn£)  Cs^Sr^"^ 
New-York,  Buffalo. 

The  Chautauqua  Reading  Circle. 

COUNSELORS: 
Lyman  Abbott,  Henry  W.  Warren,  E.  E.  Hale, 

W.  C.  Wilkinson,        J.  H.  Carlisle,       and       J.  M.  Gibson. 

THE  AMERICAN-GREEK  YEAR,  1892-3. 
American  Diplomacy,  The  Columbian   Exposition,  and  Greek 
History,  Literature  and  Art,  are  the  subjects  for  reading.     The 
essentials  of  the  plan  are:     A  definite  course;  specified  volumes; 
an  apportionment  of  time,  and  various  aids  and  directions. 

Twenty-five  specialized  advanced  courses   in   Art,   Literature 

and  History. 

For  catalogue  address 

Chautauqua  Office,  Drawer  194. 

New-York,  Buffalo. 
St.   Margaret's  School.    Fail  term  begins  Sept.  21. 
Primary  and  advanced  courses  of  study.     Harvard  examinations  for 
women.     Fully  equipped  gymnasium,  Sargent  system.     For  circu- 
lars address  Miss  Tuck,  Principal,  St.  Margaret's  Place. 

New-York,  Sing  Sing. 

The  Mt.  Pleasant  Military  Academy. 

The  57th  year  opens  in  September.  Every  appliance  supplied. 
Send  for  circular  to  J.  Howe  Allen,  Principal. 

New-York,  Sing  Sing. 

St.  John's  School. 

A  Preparatory  School  of  highest  grade.  24th  year  begins  Sep- 
tember 20th.     Rev.  J    B.  Gibson,  D.  D.  ;  W.  S.  Adams,  A.  M. 

New-York,  Syracuse. 

Keble  School. — boarding  school  for  girls. 

Under  the  supervi.sion  of  the  Rt.  Rev.  F.  D  Huntington,  S.  T.  D. 
(The  twenty-second  school  year  will  begin  September,  1892) 

Apply  to  Miss  Mary  J.  Jackson,  Principal. 

New-York,  Fort  Edward. 

Fort  Edward  Collegiate  Institute. 

A  Boarding  Seminary  of  highest  grade  for  young  women.  Superb 
modern  buildings,  steam  heated,  with  handsome  and  commodious 
chapel,  class-rooms,  laboratory,  society  rooms,  gymnasium,  library, 
music  and  art  rooms,  parlors  and  accommodations  for  100  boarding 
students  and  for  12  resident  teachers.  Six  graduating  courses, 
also  preparatory  classes.  For  35th  year,  Sept.  19,  $270  will  pay 
board,  furnished  room,  and  all  tuitions,  except  Music,  Art,  Stenog- 
raphy and  Typewriting.     See  illustrated  catalogue. 

Jos.  E.  King,  D.  D. 

New-York,  Chappaqua. 

Chappaqua  Mountain  Institute. 

Among  the  hills,  thirty-two  miles  from  New-York. 
For  Boys  and  Girls.     Send  for  catalogue  for  1892-93. 

New-York,  Tarrytown-on-Hudson,  Box  A. 

Irving  Institute. 

Prepares  for  College  or  Business.  New  Gymnasium.  Thirty- 
eighth  session  opens  September  14th,  1892. 

Address  John  M.  Furman,  A.  M.,  Principal. 
New-York,  Tarrytown-on-Hudson. 

Home  Institute. 

A  Boarding  and  Day  School  for  Young  Ladies  and  Little  Girls. 
Best  advantages  in  Music,  Art,  and  the  Modern  Languages. 

Miss  M.  W.  Metcalf,  Principal. 

New-York,  Rochester. 

University  of  Rochester. 

Send  for  the  new  illustrated  Catalogue,  which  contains  full  in- 
formation.    Address  the  Libranan,  University,  Rochester,  N.  Y. 

New-York,  Newburgh. 

The  Misses  Mackie's  School  for  Girls. 

The  twenty-seventh  year  will  begin  September  22. 
New-York,  Newburgh. 

Siglar's  Preparatory  School. 

($600,  no  extras.) 
I  suppose  my  school  is  full  for  next  year,  but  will  send  pamphlet. 

Henry  W.  Siglar. 


New-York,  Poughkeepsie. 

Eastman  Business  College. 

Open  all  the  year.  \  live  school  for  the  training  o^  live  business 
men.  Persons  of  both  sexes  taught  to  earn  a  hving  and  carefully 
prepared  for  honorable  po.<;itions.  Thorough  instruction  in  Book- 
keeping, Banking,  Commercial  Law,  Petnnanship,  Correspon- 
dence, A  riikmetic,  etc. ;  Telegraphing,  Stenography,  Typewriting, 
etc.  Business  men  supplied  with  competent  assistants  on  short 
notice.  No  charge  for  situations  furnished.  Terms  reasonable. 
Time  short.     For  information  address 

Carrington  Gaines,  President. 

New-York,  Poughkeepsie. 

Riverview  Academy. 

57th  year.  Prepares  thoroughly  for  College,  the  Government 
Academies,  and  Business.     Military  Organization. 

Bisbee  &  Amen,  Principals. 

New-York,  Yonkers,  Springside. 

Miss  Bliss's  Boarding  and  Day  School 

FOR  Young  Ladies  and  Children.     Reopens  Wednesday,  Sept. 
28,  1892.     Address  Miss  M.  L  Bliss,  Yonkers. 

New-York,  Utica. 

Mrs.  Piatt's  School  for  Young  Ladies. 

The  next  school  year  begins  Thursday,  September  22,  1892. 
Applications  should  be  m.nde  early. 

New-York,  Putnam  Co.,  Carmel. 

Drew  Ladies'  Seminary. 

The  27th  year  opens  Sept.  19th.  Location  unsurpassed.  Health- 
ful, homelike,  thorough,  progressive.  Send  for  illustrated  circular. 
Rev.  James  M.  Yeager,  M.  A.,  President 

New- York,  Cornwall;  Prep.  Dept.,  Peekskill. 

New-York  Military  Academy. 

Col.  C.  J.  Wright,  B.  S.,  A.  M.,  President. 
Maryland,  Baltimore,  706  St.  Paul  Street. 

Mount  Vernon  Institute. 

English,  French  and  German  Boarding  and  Day  School  for  Girls. 
Mrs.  Julia  R.  Tutwiler  and  Mrs.  Anne  Cabell  Rust,  Princi- 
pals. Removed  from  16  Mt.  Vernon  Place  to  706  St.  Paul  Street. 
Will  reopen  September  21st.  Boarding  pupils  limited.  Students 
prepared  for  College. 

Maryland,  Baltimore,  1214  Eutaw  Place. 
Miss    Randolph's    School.     Boarding  and  Day 
School  for  Girls.     Located  in  the  most  beautiful  part  of  the  city. 
Opens  September  21st  with  a  very  able  corps  of  teachers.     Students 
prepared  for  college.  Principal,  Mrs.  A.  L  Armstrong. 

Maryland,  Baltimore,  915  and  917  N.  Charles  Street. 

Southern  Home  School  for  Girls. 

Mrs.  W.  M.  Carv,  Miss  Carv. 

Fifty-first  year.     Summer  address,  Bar  Harbor,  Maine. 

Maryland,  Catonsville. 

St.  Timothy's    French,   German    and 

English  Boarding   School  for  Young  Ladies  reopens  Sep- 
tember 22,  1892. 

Miss  M.  C.  Carter  and  Miss  S.  R.  Carter,  Principals. 

Maryland,  Lutherville,  near  Baltimore. 

$225  per  year  at  Lutherville  Semi- 

nary  for  Young  Ladies.     40th  year.     Modern  conveniences,  large 
campus,   full   faculty,    thorough   training,    home   comforts.      Non- 
sectarian.    Send  for  catalogue.     Rev.  J.  H.  Turner,  A.  M.,  Prin. 
Maryland,  Annapolis. 

St.  John's  Preparatory  School 

For  Boys  12  to  16.     Careful  supervision  of  young  boys.     Masters 
all  college   graduates.     Thorough  preparation  for  College,  Naval 
Academy  or  Business.     Address  Tho.mas  Fell,  LL.  D.,  Ph.  D. 
California,  Ojai  Valley,  Nordhoff  (Casa  Piedra  Ranch). 

Ranch  Life  and  Study  for  Boys. 

References:  Pres.  Dwight,  New  Haven;  Pres.  F.  A.  Walker, 
Boston;  Rev.  E.  E.  Hale,  Boston.  Address  S.  D.  Thacher  (A.  B., 
LL  B.,  Yale  Un.),  1 36  Lexington  Ave.,  N.Y.,  during  July  and  Aug. 

California,  San  Mateo. 

St.  Matthew's  School  for  Boys. 

Twenty-sixth  year. 

Rev.  Alfred  Lee  Brewer,  D.  D.,  Rector. 


New  Jersey,  Bridgeton. 

Ivy  Hall. 

Home  and  College  Preparatory  School  for  Young  Ladies.    Estab- 
lished 1861.  Mrs.  J.  Allen  Maxwell,  Principal. 

New  Jeksev,  Bordentown,  between  N.  Y.  and  Phila. 

Bordentown  Military  Institute,  ^ionrin 

English  Academic  studies.    Prepares  for  College,  Scientific  Schools, 
and  "Business.     Music.     U.  S.  Drill   Regulations.     Capt.   T.    D. 

Landon,  Com'd't.     Rev.  T.  H.  Landon,  A.  M.,  Principal. 

^EW  Jersey,  Bordentown. 

The  Priscilla  Braislin  School. 

A  Home  and  Day  School  for  Gikls.    Beautiful  location  on  the 
bluffs  of  the  Delaware.    Collegiate  preparation  and  general  courses. 

For  circulars  apply  to Principals. 

New  Jersey,  Monmouth  Co.,  Freehold. 

Freehold  Institute. 

Preparation  for  College  or  Business.    Individual  care  and  training. 
Have  you  a  boy?     Write  for  information. 

A.  A.  Chambers,  A.  M. 

New  Jersey,  Freehold. 

Young  Ladies'  Seminary. 

Pleasant,   healthful,   homelike.      Graduates    from    an    extended 
course,  or  admits  by  Certificate  to  Smith,  Vassar,  and  Wellesley. 
Miss  Eunice  D.  Sewall,  Principal. 
New  Jersey,  Burlington. 

St.  Mary's  Hall. 

The  oldest  Church  School  for  Girls  in  the  country.      Fifty-sixth 
school  year  begins  Sept.  21,  1892. 

Miss  Charlotte  Titcomb,  Principal. 

New  Jersey,  Englewood. 

Dwight  School  for  Girls. 

Pleasant  home,  finest  educational  advantages.     College  prepa- 
ration. Euhhame  S.  Creighton.     Ellen  W.  Farrar. 

New  Jersey,  Lakewood. 

Lakewood  Heights  School. 

Among  the  pines.     A  thorough  and  attractive  school  for  boys. 
Opens  Sept.  28th.  James  W.  Morey,  Principal. 

New  Jersey,  Hightstown. 

Peddie  Institute. 

First-class  school  for  both  sexes.     New  catalogue  with  full  infor- 
mation now  ready.     25th  year  opens  Sept.  7th. 

Rev.  Joseph  E.  Perry,  A.  M.,  Principal. 


New  Jersey,  Princeton. 

The  Princeton  Preparatory  School 

Opens  Sept.  21st.     Inquiries  maybe  addressed  to  President  Patton, 
of  Princeton  College,  or  to 

J.  B.  Fine,  Head-master. 

New  Jersey,  Montclair.     Thirteen  miles  from  New-York. 

Montclair  Military  Academy. 

Summit  of  Orange  Mountains.     College,   Scientific  or  Business. 
Military  Inspector,  Col.  R.  P.  Hughes,  Inspector-General  of  U.  S. 
Army.    Cadets  live  in  cottages.     J.  G.  MacVicar,  A.  M.,  Prin. 
New  Jersey,  Mount  Holly. 

Mount  Holly  Academy  for  Boys. 

Healthful,  helpful,  homelike.     Education  with  formation  of  char- 
acter.    Catalogues. 

Rev.  J.  J.  Coale,  A.  M.  (Princeton),  Principal. 

New  Jersey,  New  Brunswick. 

The  Misses  Anable's  Boarding  and  Day 

School  for  Young  Ladies. 

Will  reopen  September  26,  at  66  Bayard  Street. 

New  Jersey,  Plainfield. 

Harned  Academy. 

A  select  school  for  twenty-five  boys.     Pleasant  home.     Thorough 
instruction.     Prepares  for  College. 

E.  N.  Harned,  Pnn. 

New  Jersey,  New  Brunswick. 

Rutgers  Preparatory  School  for  Boys. 

Founded  1766. 

E.  R.  Payson,  Ph.  D.,  Head  Master. 

Iowa,  Davenport. 

Saint  Katharine's  Hall. 

Boarding  and  Day  School. 
Full  Acadamic  Course.     College  Preparatory. 

Emma  Adelia  Rice,  A.  B.,  Principal. 


Ohio,  Ganibier. 

Harcourt  Place  Seminary, 

For  Young  Ladies  and  Girls. 

Founded  in  1887  with  the  object  of  providing,  west  of  the  AUe- 
ghenies,  a  school  of  the  very  highest  grade. 

Location  of  great  beauty  and  healthfulness.     Elegant  buildings. 

Teachers  all  college  women,  receiving  much  larger  salaries  than 
usual  in  boarding  schools.  Advantages  of  instruction  unequaled, 
it  is  believed,  at  any  Church  school  for  girls  in  this  country. 

Special  courses  of  study  for  High  School  graduates  and  others 
who  wish  to  supplement  their  previous  training  by  a  year  or  two  of 
furtherstudy  with  special  attention  to  manners  and  accomplishments. 

A  Course  for  Graduation  planned  on  new  lines,  which  aims  by 
requiring  no  Latin  and  Greek  and  no  Mathematics  except  a  thorough 
practical  knowledge  of  Arithmetic  and  Elementary  Book-keeping, 
to  allow  time  for  an  extensive  study  of  Engli-^h,  including  Language, 
Literature,  History,  and  Biography  as  related  to  Literature  and 
History;  Classic  Literature  studied  by  means  of  the  best  transla- 
tions; Modern  Languages  taught  by  a  native  teacher;  and  best 
instruction  given  in  practical  Science.  This  course  meets  a  long 
felt  need,  and  it  has  received  the  enthusiastic  approval  of  all  careful 
educators  to  whom  it  has  been  submitted. 

A  College  Preparatory  Course,  designed  to  give  as  thorough 
preparation  for  college  as  can  be  had  in  this  country.  Graduates 
admitted  to  Wellesley,  Smith  and  other  Colleges  without  examina- 
tion. Our  graduates  who  have  entered  College  hare  been  uniformly 
and  remarkably  successl'ul. 

Exceptional  advantages  in  Piano  and  Vocal  Music,  and  in  Art. 

Careful  attention  to  everything  pertaining  to  good  health,  sound 
learning  and  general  culture. 

For  catalogues  address 

Miss  Ada  I.  Ayek,  B.  A.,  Principal. 

Ohio,  Gambler. 

Kenyon  Military  Academy, 

For  Young  Men  and  Boys. 

Sixty-ninth  year. 

Completely  reorganized  in  1885  with  the  object  of  providing, 
west  of  the  Alleghenies,  a  training-school  fully  equal  to  the  best 
schools  of  the  East. 

Growth  since  reorganization  remarkable,  the  number  of  boarding 
pupils  having  increased  more  than  400  per  cent.  Pupils  during  the 
past  year  from  sixteen  States. 

Location  of  preat  beauty  and  healthfulness.  Elegant  buildings. 
Masters  all  college  graduates  and  teachers  of  tried  efficiency. 
Thorough  preparation  for  college  or  business.  Careful  supervision 
of  health,  habits  and  manners. 

Bad  boys  carefully  excluded.  Particular  attention^  paid  to  the 
training  of  young  boys.  Conducted  upon  a  strict  military  system, 
but,  unlike  many  of  the  military  schools,  decidedly  home-like. 

Weekly  receptions  for  recreation  and  social  cultivation— occasions 
of  great  enjoyment  and  profit  to  the  cadets.  Large  new  gymnasium 
and  drill-hall.     For  illustrated  catalogue  address  the  Rector, 

Lawrence  Rust,  LL.  D. 

Ohio,  Cincinnati. 

Cincinnati  Conservatory  of  Music. 

Established  1867.  Thorough  Musical  Education  after  the  methods 
of  first  European  Conservatories.  Students  can  enter  at  any  time. 
Young  ladies  in  the  home  department  are  under  the  personal  super- 
vision of  the  Directress.     For  catalogue  address 

Miss  Clara  Baur,  Directress. 


Ohio,  Cincinnati,  Mt.  Auburn. 

Mt.  Auburn  Institute.  Established  1856. 

School  of  Language,  Literature,  History  and  Esthetics. 
Elective  courses  in  all  departments.     Best  advantages  in  Music 

and  Art.      For  particulars  address 

H.  Thane  Miller. 

Ohio,  Cincinnati,  Mt.  Auburn,  31  Bellevue  Ave. 
Miss   LuptOn'S   School  has  prepared  pupils,  without 
conditions,  for  Vassar  College,  the  Cincinnati  University,  and  the 
full  Harvard  examination  for  admission.     A  few  boarding  pupils 
are  received.     Circulars  will  be  sent  on  application. 

Ohio,  Cincinnati. 

Miss    Armstrong's   School    for   Girls. 

Liddesdale  Place,  Avondale.     Family  limited  to  eighteen.    Cir- 
culars sent  on  application. 


Ohio,  Cincinnati,  Walnut  Hills. 

jVliSS  NOUrSe  -iviH  reopen  her  English  and  French 
Family  and  Day  School  Sept.  27, 1892.  Pupils  may  take  special 
work,  or  the  full  course  of  study  fitting  for  College  Examinations. 

Ohio,  Columbus,  151  East  Broad  St. 

Miss  Phelps's   English  and  Classical 

School  for  Young  Ladies.  Special  advantages  in  Language, 
Literature,  Music,  Art,  Oratory,  Physical  and  Social  Culture  Fall 
term  begins  September  29,  1892. 


(WVMAN 


Illinois,  Upper  Alton. 

Western  Military  Academy  institute). 

Fourteenth  year.  Prepares  for  College  or  Business.  A  thorough 
school,  within  20  miles  of  St.  Louis. 

Address  Gen.  Willis  Brown,  Superintendent. 
Illinois,  Highland  Park,  23  miles  from  Chicago. 

Northwestern  Military  Academy. 

First-class  training  in  English,  Classical,  Business.  Preparatory, 
Physical  and  Military  Departments.  Graduates  commissioned  by 
the  State.  Col.  H.  P.  Davidson,  Superintendent. 

Illinois,  Chicago. 

SteraA  School. 

Bo.\rding  and  Day  School  for  Girls.     Circulars. 

4106-8-10  Drexel  Boulevard. 

Illinois,  Chicago,  247-249  Dearborn  Avenue. 

Grant  Collegiate  Institute. 

Twenty-fourth  year.  Boarding  and  Day  School  for  Young 
Ladies.     Collegiate  and  College  Preparatory  Courses. 

Mary  A.  Mineah,  A.  M.,  Principal. 
Illinois,  Chicago,  Auburn  Park. 
Chicago     Female    College    (formerly  at   Morgan 
Park).     iSth  year  begins  Sept.   14th.     New  building  three  miles 
from  World's  Fair  grounds.    All  departments.    Ornamental  branches 
taught  by  artists.     Send  or  catalogue.  Julia  H.  Thayer. 

Illinois,  Chicago,  479-481  Dearborn  Avenue. 

Girls'  Collegiate  School,  formerly  girls' higher 

School.      Seventeenth   year  begins    Sept.    21st.      Boarding    and 
Day  School  for  Young  Ladies  and  Children.     Address 
Rebecca  S.  Rice,  A.  M.,  Mary  E.  Beedy,  A.  M.,  Principals. 

Illinois,  Chicago,  1501  Unity  Building. 

Chicago  College  of  Law. 

Law  Department  0/  Lake  Forest  University. 
Hon.  Joseph  M.  Bailey,  LL.  D.  (Justice  of  the  Supreme  Court 
of  Illinois),  PresidenL 

Undergraduate  course  of  two  years.  Post  graduate  course  of 
one  year.  Sessions  each  week-day  evening.  For  further  infor- 
mation address  Secretary, 

E.  E.  Barrett,  LL.  B. 

Illinois,  Chicago,  3715  Langley  Avenue. 

Chicago  Preparatory  School. 

Fits  for  the  best  colleges.  Seven  boys  received  into  the  Princi- 
pal's family.     Fall  term  begins  October  3d. 

Rev.  John  H.  Parr,  Mrs.  Flor.\  Pennell  Parr. 
Illinois,  Woodstock. 

Todd  Seminary.— Home  school  for  boys. 

44th  year.     Boys  educated  in  the  highest  and  best  sense  of  the 
word,  in  all  manly  qualities  of  mind  and  heart.     A  department  of 
Manual  Training.     For  circular  address         Noble  Hill,  Prin. 
Michigan,  Kalamazoo. 

Michigan  Female  Seminary. 

A  refined  home  and  superior  school.  Number  of  students  limited. 
Opens  Sept.  15th,  '92.     For  catalogue  address  the  Principal, 

Is-\bella  G.  French,  B.  A. 
Michigan,  Orchard  Lake. 

Michigan  Military  Academy. 

A  thoroughly  equipped  College  Preparatory  School,  abreast  of 
the  most  progressive  Eastern  Academies.  Catalogue  sent  upon 
application. 

MICHIG.^N,  Ann  Arbor. 

University  School  of  Music. 

First-class  Faculty.     Unique  advantages. 
For  announcement  address 

Albert  A.  Stanley,  A.  M.,  Director, 

Prof.  0/  Music,  University  0/ Michigan. 


Canad.'V,  Ontario,  London. 

Hellmuth  College, 

For  Young  Ladies  and  Girls. 
Beautiful  Home.  Healthy  Cli- 
mate. Full  Academic  Course. 
Music,  Art,  Elocution,  etc.  Pas- 
senger Elevator.  150  acres.  Stu- 
dents from  25  Provinces  and 
States.  Next  term  begins  Sep- 
tember 14th.  Conducted  parties  from  Montreal,  New-York,  Cin- 
cinnati and  Chicago.     For  illustrated  catalogue  address 

Rev.  E.  N.  English,  M.  A.,  Prin. 


Michigan,  Houghton.  A  State  School  of 

Michigan  Mining  School.  Mining  Engineer- 
ing and  allied  subjects.  Has  Summer  Schools  in  Surveying,  Shop- 
practice,  and  Field  Geology.  Laboratories,  Shops  and  Stamp  Mill 
well  equipped.     Tuition  free.     For  catalogue  write  to  the  Director. 

District  of  Columbia,  Washington. 

Mt.  Vernon  Seminary. 

Boarding  and  Day  School  for  Young  Ladies  and  Little 
Girls.  Eighteenth  year  opens  October  4,  1892.  New  buildings, 
perfectly  equipped  for  health  and  comfort.  Steam  heat,  passenger 
elevator,  perfect  sanitation.  Special  advantages  in  Literature, 
Modem  Languages  and  Music.  For  circulars  apply  to  the  Prin- 
cipal, Mrs.  Elizabeth  J.  Somers 

Washington,  D.  C. 

Comer  Seventeenth  Street  and  Massachusetts  Avenue. 

The  McDonald-Ellis  School. 

English  and  French  Boarding  and  Day  School  for  Young  Ladies 
and  Little  Girls.  Unusual  advantages  in  Music  and  Delsarte. 
Certificate  admits  to  Wellesley  College. 

For  circulars  address  the  Principal,  Miss  Anna  Ellis. 

District  of  Columbia,  Washington,  1827  I  St.,  N.  W. 
Mrs.    Myers'   School.      Boarding  School  for  Young 
Ladies  and  Little  Girls.     Reopens  October  4,  1892. 

District  of  Columbia,  Washington. 

Norw^ood  Institute. 

Boarding  and  Day  School  for  Girls.  Eleventh  session  opens 
September  28th.     For  circulars  address 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Wm.  D.  Cabell,  Principals. 

North  Carolina,  Asheville,  40  French  Broad  Avenue. 

The  Maitland  School  for  Girls 

Reopens  Monday,  September  26th. 

Mrs.  B.  Maitland,  Principal. 

Minnesota,  Faribault. 

Shattuck  School. 

Most  thorough  and  best  equipped  preparatory  School  in  the 
West.  Graduates  prepared  for  any  college  or  technical  school  in 
the  country.    Send  for  catalogue.    James  Dobbin,  D.  D.,  Rector. 

Minnesota,  St.  Paul,  20,  24  and  26  Summit  Avenue. 
Baldwin    Seminary,     a  select   Boarding   and   Day 
School.     Superior  advantages.    Pleasant  location,  healthful  climate. 
Finishing  and  college  preparatory  courses.     Certificate  admits  to 
Wellesley  and  other  colleges.      Clinton  J.  Backus,  M.  A.,  Prin. 

Minnesota,  St.  Anthony  Park. 

Stryker  Seminary. 

A  Home  School  for  Young  Ladies,  located  between  St.  Paul  and 
Minneapolis.     Ninth  year  begins  Sept.  14.     Address 

Miss  Anna  K.  Stryker,  Principal. 

Minnesota,  Duluth. 

The  Hardy  School. 

A  College  Preparatory  School  for  Girls.  Reopens  September 
14, 1S92.  Certificate  admits  to  Smith,  Wellesley  and  other  colleges. 
Native  teachers  in  French  and  German.  Special  departments  in 
Art  and  Music.  A  handsome  new  building,  with  ample  grounds. 
For  circulars  or  information  concerning  the  school  apply  to 

Kate  B.  Hardy,  Anna  R.  Haire,  Principals. 


Circulars  of 
Mr.  F.  G.   Paulson, 

441  Wood  St. 
pittsburgh,      -      pa. 

Mr.  a.  F.  Huntt, 

910  Park  Ave.  ^^tei 

richmond,       -       ^ 

Mr.  Neal  Farnham, 
First  Nat.  BankB'ld'g, 

MINNEAPOLIS,    -    MINN. 


Y^.jT]t.:,.  '  -n-  Y'  vr 


Circulars  of 
Mr.    W.  J.   Wilcox, 

250  Wabash  Ave. 
chicago,       -        ill. 

Mr.   Rukard   Hurd, 
32  East  4th  St. 

st.  paul,      -      minn. 

Mr.  G.  B.  Sterling, 
3S  W.  14th  St. 

NEW-YORK,       -         N.    Y. 


PENNSYLVANIA    MILITARY  ACADEMY,  CHESTER,  PA. 

A  MILITARY  COLLEGE.    Degrees  in  Civil  Engineering,  Cliemistiy,  and  Classical  Course. 

Thorough  Work  in  Laboratories,  Drafting-room,  and  Field.     Military  system  second  only  to  that  of  the  U.  S.  M.  A.  „   .,   . 

A  carefully  organized   Preparatory   Department.     Best  Moral.  Mental,  and  Physical  Training.     Spacious  Buildings; 

Extensive  Equipment.     Thirty-first  Session  begins  September  14,  1892. Circulars  of  Col.  Charles  E.  Hyatt,  President. 

Pennsylvania,  Philadelphia,  Chestnut  Hill. 


Mrs.  Comegys  and  Miss  Bell's  Eng- 

LisH,  Frfnch  and  German  Boarding  School  for  Young  Ladies 
reopens  Sept.  28.     Students  prepared  for  College. 

Ample  grounds  for  outdoor  exercise^ 

Pennsylvania,  Philadelphia,  1924  Chestnut  St. 

Miss    Boyer's    English,    French    and 

Music  School,  for  boarding  and  day  pupils. 

Pennsylvania,  Philadelphia,  1408  North  Broad  Street. 

Miss  Marshall's  Preparatory  and  Col- 

legiate  School,  for  boarding  and  day  pupils,  is  in  one  of  the  most 
desirable  localities  of  the  city.  The  School  of  Oratory  and  Belles- 
lettres  and  Music  Department  in  charge  of  ablest  instructors. 

Pennsylvania,  Philadelphia,  4313  and  4315  Walnut  St. 

A  Thorough  French  and  English  Home 

School  for  Twenty  Girls.     No  day  scholars.     Mme.  Henrietta 
Clerc  and  Miss  Marion  L.  Pecke.     French  warranted  to  be  spoken 
in  two  years.     Terms,  $300  a  year.      Address  Mme.  H.  Clerc. 
Pennsylvania,  Philadelphia,  2045  Walnut  Street. 

West    Walnut    Street    Seminary    for 

Young  Ladies.  26th  year.  Is  provided  for  giving  a  superior 
education  in  Collegiate,  Eclectic,  and  Preparatory  Departments; 
also  in  Music  and  Art. Mrs.  Henrietta  Kutz. 

Pennsylvania,  Philadelphia,  1350  Pine  Street. 

Miss   Anable's    English,    French    and 

German  Boarding  and  Day  School.     44th  year. 

Pennsylvania,  Philadelphia,  2037  De  Lancey  Place 
(formerly  2106  Spruce  Street). 

Miss  Gibson's  Family  and  Day  School 

FOR  Girls.     Fall  term  begins  September  29,  1892.     Home  pupils 

limited.     Preparation  for  College. ^____ 

Pennsylvania,  Philadelphia,  3509  and  3511  Hamilton  Street. 

English  and  French  School  for  Girls. 

Twenty-third  year  will  begin  Sept.  21,  1892.     Number  of  board- 
ing pupils  limited.     College  and  special  courses. 

Mrs.  Sutton  and  Miss  Roney. 
Pennsylvania,  Philadelphia,  4110  and  4112  Spruce  Street. 

MissGordon'sBoardingand  Day  School 

FOR  Young  Ladies.  Most  delightful  location  in_  Philadelphia. 
I2th  year  opens  September  21,  1892.     French,  Music  and  College 

Preparatory.     Circular  on  application.  

Pennsylvania,  Philadelphia,  Germantown. 

Walnut  Lane  School. 

Boarding  and  Day  School  for  Young  Ladies.     36th  year  opens 
Sept.  28.     Academical  and  college  preparatory  courses. 
Mrs.  T.  B.  Richards,  Prin.   Miss  S.  L.  Tracy,  A.  M..  Assoc.  Prin. 

Pennsylvania,  Philadelphia,  1331  South  Broad  Street. 

The  Broad  St.  Conservatory  of  Music 

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Pennsylvania,  Philadelphia,  Germantown. 

Germantown  Academy. 

Established  1760.     Eight  boarding  pupils  taken. 

Wm.  Kershaw,  Ph.  D. 


Pennsylvania,  Germantown,  202,  204,  335  W.  Chelten  Ave. 

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Day  School.  24th  year.  "  Approved  "  by  Bryn  Mawr  College. 
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Pennsylvania,  Bryn  Mawr. 

Bryn  Mawr  College,    a  college  for  women. 

Bryn  Mawr,  Pa.,  ten  miles  from  Philadelphia.  Offers  graduate  and 
undergraduate  courses  in  Sanskrit,  Greek,  Latin,  Mathematics, 
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Pennsylvania,  Bryn  Mawr. 

Miss   Baldwin's   Day,    Boarding,  and 

College  Preparatory  School  for  Girls  reopens  Sept.  28, 
1892.     Address  Miss  Florence  Baldwin. 

Pennsylvania,   Montgomery  Co.,  Ogontz  School  P.  O. 

Ogontz  School  for  Young  Ladies. 

Established  in  1850.     Removed  in  1883  from  Chestnut  St.,  Phila- 
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Pennsylvania,  Philadelphia. 

Cheltenham  Military  Academy,  on  summit 

of  Chelten  Hills,  near  Philadelphia,  Bound  Brook  Route  to  New- 
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Pennsylvania,  HuUidaysburg. 

Hollidaysburg     School     for     Young 

Women  and  Girls.  Thorough  instruction.  Methods  adapted 
to  the  individuality  of  each  pupil.  Home  comforts.  Location 
exceptionally  healthful.     Address  Mrs.  R.  S.  Hitchcock. 


Pennsylvania,  Chambersburg. 

Wilson  College  for  "Women. 

Fifty  miles  southwest  of  Harrisburg,  Pa.,  in  famous  Cumberland 
Valley.  Si.v  trains  daily.  Border  climate,  avoiding  bleak  north. 
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Chambersburg  Academy. 

A  Classical  and  Scientific  School  for  Boys.  Preparation  for 
College  a  specialty.  Home  influence.  Pleasant  surroundings. 
Thorough  instruction.        M.  R.  Alexander,  A.  M.,  Principal. 

Pennsylvania,  Swarthmore. 

Swarthmore  College. 

Under  care  of  Friends.  Opens  9th  month,  13th,  1892.  Full 
College  Courses  for  young  men  and  young  women,  leading  to 
Classical,  Engineering,  Scientific  and  Literary  degrees.  Healthful 
location,  extensive  grounds,  buildings,  machine  shops,  laboratories 
and  libraries. 

For  Catalogue  and  particulars  address 

Charles  DeGarmo,  Ph.  D.,  President. 
Pennsylvania,  West  Chester. 

Darlington  Seminary  for  young  ladies.   37th 

school  year  opens  Sept.  12th.  Good  buildings,  extensive  grounds, 
beautiful  and  healthy  location.  Languages,  Music,  Drawing,  Paint- 
ing, etc.     $i8operyear.     Catalogues.     R.  Darlington,  Ph.  D. 

Pennsylvania,  Bethlehem. 

The    Moravian    Seminary   for  Young 

Ladies  offers  the  advantages  of  a  Christian  home  with  the  incen- 
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Pennsylvania,  Reading. 

Selwyn  Hall,  a  first-class  school  for  Boj^s.  Conducted 
on  the  Military  plan.  Thorough  teaching  and  training.  Beautiful 
location.  New  Gymnasium.  For  information  and  catalogue  ad- 
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Pennsylvania,  Haverford  P.  O. 

Nine  miles  from  Philadelphia. 

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Pennsylvania,  Bustleton,  near  Philadelphia. 
ol.    l_iUlCe  S    oCnOOl.       a   hlgh-class  boarding  school 
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Chas.  H.  Strout,  F.  E.  Moulton,  Principals. 

Virginia,  Warrenton.  o      ir  t  tu    .u-  » 

T-"  ~  ■„„  T^^ti*.,*^  For  Young  Ladies.  The  thirty- 
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Virginia,  Le.\nigton. 

Virginia  Military  Institute. 

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Virginia,  Bethel  Academy. 

Bethel  Classical  and  Military  Academy. 

Prepares  for  advanced  study  in  the  universities,  for  business,  and 
for  West  Point.     Address  Major  R.  A.  McIntyre  for  catalogue. 

Missouri,  St.  Louis,  2826  Washington  Avenue. 

St.  Louis  Hygienic  College 

Of  Physicians  and  Surgeons.  Sixth  annual  session  opens  Sept.  29,. 
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Address  for  announcement  S.  W.  Dodds,  M.  D.,  Dean. 

New-York,  New- York,  18  E.  131st  St. 

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"SUPERIOR  NUTRITION-THE  LIFC 


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AN  ORIGINAL  UNRIVALLED  AND 
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GRAVED   OY    T.  JOHNSON. 


ANTONIN    DVORAK. 


The  Century  Magazine. 


Vol.  XLIV. 


SEPTEMBER,   1892. 


No.  5. 


THE  GRAND  FALLS  OF  LABRADOR. 


FUGITIVE  article  relat- 
ing to  a  great  cataract  in 
Labrador,  appeared  in  sev- 
eral newspapers  during  the 
early  part  of  i8qi.    It  re- 


None  of  the  maps  show  the  river-systems  and 
lakes  with  any  degree  of  accuracy.  It  has  long 
been  assumed,  however,  that  the  interior  con- 
tains a  great  table-land.  The  highest  portion 
of  this  elevated  region  is  probably  in  the  south- 
ferred  to  the  stories  current  em  part  of  the  peninsula,  where  its  greater  riv- 
amongthelndiansandvoy-    ers  have  their  source.    The  most  important  of 


ageurs  which  tended  to 
prove  the  existence  of  such  a  great  waterfall  on 
the  upper  waters  of  the  Grand,  or  Hamilton, 
River,  and  ascribed  to  it  the  stupendous  height 
of  1 500  feet.  This  attractive  piece  of  geographi- 
cal news,  with  its  apparent  flavor  of  aboriginal 
hyperbole,  chanced  to  catch  the  eye  of  the  pres- 
ent writer.  An  examination  of  the  literature 
relating  to  Labrador  which  was  accessible  re- 
vealed the  suggestive  fact  that  although  it  was 
probably  the  first  part  of  the  mainland  of  Amer- 
ica visited  by  Europeans,  yet,  in  this  last  dec- 
ade of  the  nineteenth  century,  one  must  seek 
there  for  the  largest  unexplored  area  on  the 
western  continent.  Many  generations  of  mari- 
ners and  fishermen  have  sailed  along  Labra- 
dor's bleak  coast,  since  John  Cabot  visited  those 
shores  in  1497  ;  and  all  have  borne  abroad  the 
fame  of  its  arctic  climate  and  desolate  sea- 


these,  the  Grand,  or  Hamilton,  River,  rises  in 
the  lakes  on  this  table-land,  and  flows  in  a  gen- 
eral southeasterly  direction  a  distance  of  nearly 
400  mfles  into  Hamilton  Inlet,  the  great  marine 
estuary  which,  under  different  names,  pene- 
trates the  interior  a  distance  of  150  miles.  No 
scientific  explorer  has  penetrated  far  into  the 
country,  and  the  imperfect  knowledge  of  this 
vast  territory  (estimated  to  contain  289,000 
square  miles)  rests  entirely  on  the  vague  reports 
of  Indians,  a  few  missionaries,  and  information 
furnished  by  some  agents  of  the  Hudson  Bay 
Company. 

Interesting  as  these  researches  were,  they 
yielded  but  httle  real  information  relating  to 
the  configuration  of  the  interior.  Enough  was 
learned,  however,  to  establish  the  existence  of 
the  Grand  Falls,  and  to  show  that  the  time  had 
long  since  passed  when  any  enterprising  trav- 


ccrast.   The  uninviting  character  of  its  rocky    eler  could  claim  the  honor  of  their  discovery. 


seaboard  has  thus  given  a  bad  name  to  the 
whole  country,  and  in  this  we  must  find  the 
reason  why  Labrador  has  received  so  little  at- 
tention from  explorers. 

A  glance  at  any  of  the  maps  of  the  peninsula 
which  have  been  published  will  show  them  to 
be  very  defective  specimens  of  chartography. 


The  traditions  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company 
affirm  that  two  officers  of  the  Company  visited 
the  spot  many  years  ago.  The  first  of  these, 
John  M'Clane,  was  unquestionably  the  first 
white  man  to  gaze  upon  this  remote  cataract, 
which  he  discovered  in  the  year  1839  while  en- 
gaged in  seeking  an  inland  route  between  two 


Copyright,  1892,  by  The  Century  Co.     All  rights  reserved. 


643 


644 


THE    GRAND   FALLS   OF  LABRADOR. 


posts  of  the  Company.  Twenty  years  after 
M'Clane's  visit,  Joseph  McPhersonwas  guided 
to  the  spot  by  an  Iroquois  Indian  named  Louis- 
over-the-fire,  who  is  still  living,  an  aged  pen- 
sioner of  the  Company,  at  Northwest  River 
Post.  These  are  the  only  white  men  who,  pre- 
vious to  the  summer  of  1 89 1 ,  are  known  to  have 
seen  the  Grand  Falls.  Neither  M'Clane  nor 
INIcPherson  measured  the  height  of  the  Falls, 
and,  in  fact,  it  does  not  appear  that  the  latter 
ever  gave  any  account  of  his  visit  to  this  region. 
To  continue  the  brief  record  of  Labrador  ex- 
ploration, mention  should  be  made  of  the  jour- 
ney of  Professor  H.  Y.  Hind,  who  thirty-one 
years  ago  started  from  the  Seven  Islands,  on 
the   St.   Lawrence   coast,  and  ascended   the 


no  traveler  or  trader  disturbed  the  loneliness 
of  this  remote  wilderness.  Fort  Nascopie,  the 
only  interior  post  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company, 
was  abandoned  some  twenty-eight  years  ago, 
and  the  inland  trail  to  it,  which  passed  within 
fifty  miles  of  the  Falls,  was  disused  in  the  in- 
terval. No  one  endeavored  to  ascend  the 
Grand  River,  and  the  dim  tradition  of  the  Falls 
was  almost  forgotten.  At  length,  in  1887,  a 
young  Englishman,  R.  F.  Holme  of  Oxford 
University,  journeyed  to  Labrador  and  started 
up  the  Grand  River,  having  the  Falls  as  the  ob- 
jective point  of  his  expedition.  He  relied  on 
Professor  Hind's  statement  that  the  cataract 
was  100  miles  from  the  mouth  of  the  river,  and 
consequently  found  himself  insufficiently  equip- 


DRAWN   BY  HARRY  F 


NORTHWEST     KIVER     POST.       (FROM     A     PHOTOGRAPH.) 


Moisic  River  a  distance  of  120  miles.  Strictly 
speaking,  the  territory  drained  by  this  affluent 
of  the  St.  Lawrence  is  not  in  Labrador  proper, 
but  is  embraced  by  the  eastern  borders  of  the 
province  of  Quebec.  In  the  account  of  his  ex- 
plorations Professor  Hind  first  advanced  the 
statement  that  the  interior  plateau  of  Labrador 
attained  a  height  of  over  2200  feet,  and  this  idea 
has  been  accepted  by  most  writers  on  the  sub- 
ject.  Then  ensued  a  long  period  during  which 


ped  for  what  proved  to  be  a  much  longer  jour- 
ney. With  a  boat  and  two  men,  he  pluckily 
surmounted  the  difficulties  of  river  navigation, 
and  reached  a  point  about  140  miles  from  the 
mouth  of  the  river,  when  he  was  obliged  by  the 
failure  of  his  provisions  to  turn  back. 

Believing  a  visit  to  the  Grand  Falls  presented 
no  insurmountable  obstacles,  and  confident 
that  such  a  trip  would  yield  interesting  geo- 
graphical results  and  exciting  sport  with  rod  and 


THE    GRAND   FALLS   OF  LABRADOR. 


645 


FENN.  ENGRAVED  BY   E. 

PART     OF     THE     LOWER     OR     MUSKRAT     FALLS     OF     THE     GRAND     RIVER.       (FROM     A     PHOTOGRAPH.) 


gun,  the  writer  determined  to  essay  the  voyage. 
Preparations  for  the  journey  were  made  in  the 
early  part  of  June,  1891.  The  various  articles 
of  equipment  were  gotten  together  with  some 
care,  and  included,  among  other  things,  a 
Rushton  canoe  sixteen  feet  in  length.  An  as- 
sociate who  entered  with  enthusiasm  into  the 
enterprise  was  found  in  Professor  C.  A.  Kena- 
ston,of  Washington,  D.  C,  and  on  June  23  we 
sailed  from  New  York  on  the  steamship  Portia 
for  St.  John's,  Newfoundland,  where  we  ar- 
rived on  the  29th  of  the  same  month.  After  an 
unexpected  and  vexatious  delay  here  of  over 
two  weeks,  we  sailed  from  St.  John's  on  the 
.small  steamship  Curlew,  the  boat  engaged  by 
the  Newfoundland  Government  to  carry  the 
mails  on  the  Labrador  coast  during  the  summer. 
After  calling  at  several  ports  on  the  northeast- 
ern coast  of  Newfoundland,  our  stanch  little 
craft  turned  north,  and,  steaming  through  the 
dense  fogs  of  the  Strait  of  Belle  Isle,  soon  re- 
vealed to  our  eyes  the  wild  and  desolate  coast 
of  Labrador.  The  four-days'  sail  along  this 
coast  proved  to  be  most  enjoyable,  and  formed 
an  impressive  introduction  to  the  rugged  north- 
land  which  was  to  be  the  scene  of  our  wander- 
ings. On  July  23,  the  Curlew  landed  us  at 
Rigoulette,  in  Hamilton  Inlet.  This  is  the  chief 
station  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company  in  Labra- 
dor, and  at  the  time  of  our  visit  was  in  charge 
of  Chief-factor  Bell,  a  veteran  officer  of  the 
Company.  A  small  schooner  having  been 
placed  at  our  disposal  by  Mr.  Bell,  the  follow- 
ing day  we  continued  our  journey  inland,  sail- 


ing westward  for  ninety  miles  through  the  great 
interior  basin  known  as  Melville  or  Gross- 
water  Bay. 

Northwest  River  Post,  at  the  head  of  the  ba\-, 
where  we  arrived  on  July  27,  is  the  most  inland 
station  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company,  and  is 
the  chief  trading-point  of  the  Montagnais,  or 
Mountaineer  Indians,  who  make  annual  visits 
to  this  post  to  meet  the  Roman  Catholic  mis- 
sionary, and  to  exchange  the  outcome  of  their 
winter's  trapping  for  supplies  and  ammunition. 
Many  of  the  Indians  had  already  visited  the 
post  and  returned  to  the  interior ;  but  a  num- 
ber were  still  encamped  in  the  neighborhood. 
A  few  half-breed  "  servants  "  here  live  in  cabins, 
which  cluster  about  the  ancient  storehouse  of 
the  Company.  The  Grand  River  flows  into  the 
bay  twenty-five  miles  from  here,  and  at  this 
point  preparations  were  made  to  ascend  that 
river.  Marvelous  tales  anent  the  raging  rapids 
and  dangers  of  the  river  met  us  at  the  post; 
but  by  securing  the  aid  of  a  number  of  Indians 
and  their  canoes, we  hoped  to  overcome  all  these 
difficulties  of  inland  navigation  and  gradually 
to  work  our  way  up.  A  grievous  disappoint- 
ment as  to  this  part  of  our  plans  was  in  store 
for  us.  In  addition  to  their  natural  disinclina- 
tion to  engage  in  an  undertaking  involving  so 
much  hard  work,  we  found  that  a  superstitious 
dread  of  the  Grand  Falls  obtained  among  the 
Indians.  They  believe  the  place  to  be  the  haunt 
of  evil  spirits,  and  assert  that  death  will  soon 
overtake  the  venturesome  mortal  who  dares  to 
look  upon  the  mysterious  cataract. 


646 


THE    GRAND   FALLS   OF  LABRADOR. 


As  is  well  known,  the  Eskimos  of  Labrador 
dwell  on  the  coast,  and  seldom  venture  far  into 
the  interior.  Hamilton  Inlet  may  be  regarded 
as  the  southern  boundary  of  their  habitat,which 
stretches  north  to  the  shores  of  Hudson  Strait. 
Contact  with  civilization  seems  to  lessen  the 
vitality  of  this  interesting  race,  and  the  Mora- 


Th&  fiffures  show  elevations  above 
the  surface  of  the  river  irvfeeo 


vian  missionaries  declare  that,  like  the 
Eskimos  of  Alaska,  they  are  gradually 
decreasing  in  numbers. 

The  great  wilderness  of  the  interior  is  the 
home  of  the  Indians.  These  belong  to  the  Cree 
nation  of  the  Northwest,  and  are  divided  into 
two  famihes:  the  Montagnais,  or  Mountaineers, 
who  are  found  as  far  west  as  Lake  St.  John,  in 
the  province  of  Quebec;  and  the  Nascopies,  a 
less  numerous  tribe,  who  dwell  on  the  barren 
grounds  extending  to  the  far  north. 

All  the  Indians  who  resort  to  the  trading- 
post  are  nominally  Roman  Catholics;  but  as  the 
ministrations  of  the  priest  extend  over  a  period 
of  only  three  weeks  each  year, —  during  which 
all  marriages  and  baptisms  are  solemnized, — 
there  is  time  in  the  long  interval  for  many  of 
the  precepts  of  the  Church  to  be  forgotten,  and 
for  inherent  superstition  to  assert  itself.  The 
heathen  element  is  exemplified  in  the  survival 
of  the  native  medicine-men,  or  "  conjurers  "  as 
they  are  termed,  who  undoubtedly  wield  much 
influence  over  their  followers.  The  priest  exerts 
himself  to  lessen  the  authority  of  this  savage 
hierarchy ;  but  it  is  well  known  that,  away  from 
his  watchful  care,  the  old  barbaric  incantations 
and  prophecies  are  still  practised.  As  a  result 
of  their  almost  complete  isolation,  these  Lab- 
rador Indians  show  but  few  evidences  of  con- 
tact with  white  men,  and  their  mode  of  life  and 
customs  present  many  aspects  of  interest  to  the 
ethnologist.    The  Nascopies,  who  dwell  about 


the  lacustrine  basins  of  the  northern  part  of  the 
peninsula,  are  closely  allied  to  the  Mountaineers 
in  language  and  habits,  but  are  a  more  hardy 
and  primitive  people.  Their  clothing  is  entirely 
composed  of  reindeer-skins,  and  many  have  no 
intercourse  whatever  with  white  men.  Num- 
bers of  them,  however,  make  annual  visits  to 
Fort  Chimo,  a  station  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Com- 
pany near  Ungava  Bay,  where,  in  exchange  for 
their  pelts,  they  obtain  flour,  ammunition,  and 
a  few  other  articles.  We  were  informed,  by  one 
who  lived  two  years  at  this  fort,  that  the  savage 
custom  of  killing  the  old  and  helpless  still  pre- 
vails among  the  Nascopies.  The  victim  is  not 
despatched  outright,  however,  but  is  supplied 
with  sufficient  food  to  last  a  few  days,  and  is 
then  abandoned  to  a  cruel  death  by  starvation. 
Thwarted  in  our  project  of  Indian  coopera- 
tion, we  nevertheless  resolved  to  make  the  best 
of  the  situation,  and  our  party  on  starting  up  the 
river  comprised,  besides  Professor  Kenaston 
and  the  writer,  John  Montague  (a  strong  young 
Scotchman,  well  acquainted  with  the  lower  part 
of  the  river,  and  the  man  who  had  accom- 
panied Mr.  Holme  in  1887)  and  Geofirey 
Ban,  a  full-blooded  Eskimo,  whom  we 
had  brought  from  the  coast.  Geofirey 
was  a  typical  specimen  of  his  race, 
strong  and  of  stocky  build,  with  a 
swarthy,  Tatar  cast  of  features, 
and  a  cheerfulness  of  disposi- 
tion which  the  vicissitudes  of 


MinnipiyRivt 


travel  sel- 
dom ruffled. 
A  strong  river 
boat,    eighteen 
feet  in  length,  was 
obtained  for  the  trip, 
and     in    this    were 
placed  the  supplies, 
instruments,        and 
other  necessary  lug- 
gage.    The    canoe, 
which  contained  the  tent  and  a  few  smaller 
articles,  was  tied  to  the  stem. 

On  August  3,  our  litde  company  of  four  bade 
adieu  to  friends  at  Northwest  River,  and  we 
turned  our  faces  toward  the  wilderness.  For  two 
days  a  favoring  wind  filled  our  sail,  and  on  the 
third  day  we  reached  the  lower  falls  of  the  Grand 
River,  which  are  called  Muskrat  Falls  by  the 
trappers,  and  are  twenty-five  miles  from  the 
mouth  of  the  river.  Parallel  chains  of  hills  here 
encroach  on  the  bed  of  the  river,  contracting 


THE    GRAND   FALLS   OF  LABRADOR. 


647 


the  channel  and  presenting  a  granite  bulwark 
through  which  the  stream  has  forced  its  Avay. 
There  are  two  steps  in  the  descent,  and  the  to- 
tal drop  is  seventy  feet.  To  go  around  this  fall, 
a  long  and  steep  "  carry  "  was  necessary.  The 
unwieldy  character  of  our  boat,  which  weighed 
500  pounds,  was  here  a  serious  disadvantage. 
By  means  of  a  block  and  tackle,  and  with  much 
laborious  lifting  and  pulling,  we  dragged  it  up 
the  precipitous  banks.  This  operation  and  the 
packing  occupied  a  day  and  a  half.  During  the 
subsequent  advance  of  175  miles  up  the  river, 
oars  and  paddles  were,  for  the  most  part,  of  lit- 
tle use,  owing  to  the  swiftness  of  the  current. 
The  method  employed  was  what  is  technically 
known  as  "  tracking  " — that  is,  a  strong  rope, 
about  the  thickness  of  a  clothes-line,  was  tied 
to  the  gunwale  of  the  boat  just  aft  of  the  bow. 
To  the  shore  end  broad  leather  straps  were  at- 
tached. With  these  across  their  shoulders,  three 
of  the  party  tugged  along  the  rocky  bank,  while 
the  fourth  man,  with  an  oar  lashed  in  the  stern, 
steered  a  devious  course  among  the  rocks  and 
shallows  of  the  river. 

In  this  laborious  fashion  the  advance  con- 
tinued for  three  weeks.  With  the  exception  of  a 
smooth  stretch, which  Montague  called  "slack 
water,"  the  current  was  almost  uniformly  swift 
and  the  "  tracking  "  of  the  most  arduous  char- 
acter. Sandy  terraces,  and  extended  reaches 
covered  with  glacial  boulders,  characterized 
the  lower  portion  of  the  river,  while  farther 
up-stream  great  numbers  of  smaller  boulders, 
insecurely  lodged  on  the  precipitous  sandy 
banks,  presented  a  precarious  footing  to  those 
trudging  along  the  rocky  "  tow-path."  When 
a  combination  of  this  "  rubble  "  and  a  trouble- 
some rapid  occurred,  it  was  only  by  the  most 
violent  exertion,  and  no  end  of  slipping  and 
sliding,  that  the  tension  of  the  tow-line  could  be 
maintained  on  the  treacherous  ground.  Then 
again,  stretches  of  steep  rocky  bank,  where  no 
"  tracking  "  was  possible,  often  necessitated  scal- 
ing the  rugged  cliffs  and  passing  the  line  from 


jlapids 


undermined  the  banks,  and  where  numbers  of 
trees,  stumps,  and  underbrush  littered  the  shore 
and  formed  chevaiix-de-frise  of  the  most  for- 
midable character. 

The  popular  impression  that  Labrador  pos- 
sesses a  climate  which  even  in  summer  is  too 
rigorous  for  the  enjoyment  of  open-air  life  was 
not  verilied  on  this  trip.  The  temperature  dur- 
ing the  day  was  found  to  be  delightful — just 
cool  enough  to  be  stimulating ;  while  the  aver- 
age minimum  temperature  registered  during 
the  forty-two  nights  of  the  journey  was  ascer- 
tained to  be  but  42°  Fahrenheit.  Nor  was  ver- 
dure lacking  in  this  subarctic  landscape,  for 
dense  growths  of  spruce  and  fir  extended  back 
for  miles  into  the  blue  distance,  and  even  where 
fire  had  blackened  the  slopes  of  adjacent  hills, 
the  somber  aspect  of  the  scene  was  much  re- 
lieved by  a  second  growth,  which  showed  the 
delicate  green  of  its  leaves  among  the  charred 
remains  of  the  original  forest.  Game  and  fish 
proved  to  be  fairly  abundant,  and  two  fine 
black  bears  were  killed  by  members  of  the 
party.  The  fresh  meat  thus  obtained,  together 
with  the  trout  captured  from  time  to  time, 
made  welcome  variations  in  the  dietary  of  the 
expedition. 

The  declining  sun  of  August  20  beheld  our 
small  craft  glide  into  the  smooth  waters  of  Lake 
Wanockalow.  The  first  view  of  the  lake  was 
beautiful,  and  most  grateful  to  our  eyes  after  the 
long  struggle  with  the  rapids.  Even  Geoffrey 
and  John,  usually  indifferent  to  scenic  effects, 
could  not  conceal  their  admiration  as  we  glided 
by  towering  cliffs  and  wooded  headlands,  and 
beheld  at  intervals  cascades  leaping  from  the 
rocks  into  the  lake,  their  silvery  outlines  glis- 
tening in  the  sun  and  contrasting  distinctly  with 
the  environment  of  dark  evergreen  foliage. 

This  romantic  sheet  of  water  stretches  in  a 
northeasterly  and  southwesterly  direction  for 
about  thirty-five  miles,  and  has  an  elevation 
above  sea-level,  according  to  the  aneroid  ob- 
servations secured, of  473  feet.  Low  mountains 


,j  8dO  700 

Is  iu  TitiL  uke  ^  ^  gO>' " 


Gt 


Ivlus^^ 


upirteHapids 


one  to  another  over  various  obstacles.    Wad-  of  granite  and  gneiss  rise  on  each  side,  and  the 

ing  through  the  water  was  frequently  the  only  average  width  of  the  lake  is  less  than  one  mile, 

resource.  This  was  always  in  order  when  a  place  A  sounding  taken  near  the  middle  showed  a 

was  encountered  where  the  spring  freshets  had  depth  of  406  feet.    This  narrow  elevated  basin 


648 


THE    GRAND   FALLS   OF  LABRADOR. 


PACKING     ROUND    THE     MINNIPl     RAPIDS.       (FROM     A     PHOTOGRAPH.) 


is  undoubtedly  of  glacial  origin,  the  presence  of 
great  numbers  of  boulders,  and  the  rounded  ap- 
pearance of  the  hill-summits,  pointing  to  a  pe- 
riod of  ice-movement.  We  made  a  good  run 
up  the  lake,  passing  the  farthest  point  reached 
by  Mr.  Holme  in  1887,  and  camped  on  the 
river-bank  three  miles  above  the  lake,  opposite 
the  mouth  of  the  Elizabeth  River,  which  here 
enters  the  Grand  from  the  northwest.  The  next 
day  we  rested  in  camp ;  taking  occasion  to  over- 
haul the  boat  and  canoe  and  repair  clothing 
and  outfit,  preparatory  to  entering  the  terra  in- 
cognita which  lay  before  us. 

Four  days  after  passing  Lake  Wanockalow, 
a  wide  shallow  rajjid  was  encountered,  over 
which  it  was  impossible  to  drag  the  boat.  Find- 
ing no  possible  channel  in  the  river,  we  judged 
we  were  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  "  Big  Hill," 
the  head  of  canoe  navigation,  and  the  point 
where,  in  the  old  days,  when  the  Hudson  Bay 
Company  sent  crews  to  their  inland  post,  the 
Indian  voyageurs  left  the  river.  From  an  Indian 
we  had  learned  that  the  old  trail,  long  disused, 
led  from  this  point  on  the  river  to  a  chain  of 
lakes  on  the  table-land.  By  following  these 
lakes  and  crossing  the  intervening  "carries," 
the  rapid  water  which  extends  for  twenty-five 
miles  below  the  Falls  could  be  avoided,  and 
tlie  traveler  be  brought  finally  to  the  waters 
of  the  Grand  River  many  miles  above  Grand 


Falls.  Our  plan  was  to  follow  this  old  trail  for 
several  days,  and  then  to  leave  the  canoe  and 
strike  across  country  in  a  direction  which  we 
hoped  would  bring  us  again  to  the  river  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  Falls.  It  was  deemed  best  to 
follow  this  circuitous  canoe-route  rather  than 
to  attempt  to  follow  the  banks  of  the  river  on 
foot,  in  which  case  everything  would  have  to 
be  carried  on  our  backs  for  many  miles  through 
dense  forests. 

After  a  long  search  the  old  trail  was  found, 
and  leaving  Geoffrey  in  charge  of  the  main 
camp  on  the  river,  the  rest  of  us  took  the  canoe 
and  a  week's  provisions,  and  began  the  ascent 
of  the  steep  path  which  led  to  the  edge  of  the 
elevated  plateau,  which  here  approaches  the 
river.  In  three  days  six  lakes  and  the  inter- 
vening portages  were  crossed.  Arriving  at  the 
sixth  lake,  which  was  larger  than  the  others, 
we  turned  aside  from  the  dim  trail  and  paddled 
to  its  northwestern  extremity,  where  we  drew 
out  the  canoe  and  prepared  for  the  tramp 
toward  the  river.  Arrayed  in  heavy  marching 
order,  and  carrying  almost  all  that  remained 
of  the  provisions,  we  were  soon  advancing  in 
a  westerly  direction.  We  were  now  on  the  table- 
land of  the  Labrador  interior,  and  the  country 
we  were  passing  through  was  of  the  most  deso- 
late character,  denuded  of  trees,  the  surface 
covered    with    caribou-moss,    Labrador   tea- 


THE    GRAND   FALLS    OF  LABRADOR. 


649 


plants,  blueberry-bushes,  and  thousands  of 
boulders.  By  keeping  to  the  ridges,  fair  pro- 
gress was  made ;  but  when  compelled  to  leave 
the  higher  ground  and  skirt  the  borders  of  the 
lakes,  dense  thickets  of  alders  and  willows  were 
encountered,  and  these  greatly  impeded  our 
advance.  The  desolation  of  this  upland  land- 
scape is  indescribable.  No  living  thing  was  en- 
countered, and  the  silence  of  primordial  time 
reigned  supreme.  Just  before  sunset  we  went 
into  camp  on  a  hillside  near  a  large  lake,  and 
soon  after,  from  the  top  of  a  high  rock,  beheld 
a  great  column  of  mist  rising  like  smoke  against 
the  western  sky.  This,  we  knew,  marked  the 
position  of  the  Falls,  and,  needless  to  say,  our 
spirits  rose  —  obUvious  of  our  bleak  surround- 
ings —  as  we  contemplated  the  near  attainment 
of  our  journey's  end.  During  the  night  the 
thermometer  registered  a  minimum  tempera- 


of  falling  waters  was  borne  to  our  ears  with 
growing  distinctness.  After  what  seemed  an 
intolerable  length  of  time,  —  so  great  was  our 
eagerness,  —  a  space  of  light  in  the  trees  ahead 
macie  known  the  presence  of  the  river.  Quick- 
ening our  steps,  we  pushed  on.  and  with  beat- 
ing hearts  emerged  from  the  forest  near  the 
spot  where  the  river  plunged  into  the  chasm 
with  a  deafening  roar. 

A  single  glance  showed  that  we  had  before 
us  one  of  the  greatest  waterfalls  in  the  world. 
Standing  on  the  rock)-  brink  of  the  chasm, 
a  wild  and  tumultuous  scene  lay  before  us,  a 
scene  possessing  elements  of  sublimit}',  and 
with  details  not  to  be  apprehended  in  the  first 
moments  of  wonderingcontemplation.  Far  up- 
stream one  beheld  the  surging,  fleecy  waters 
and  tempestuous  billows,  dashing  high  their 
crests  of  foam,  all  forced  onward  with  resistless 


DRAWN    BY   HARRY    FENN 


ENGRAVED  BY  G    P    BARTLE 
RAPIDS    ABOVE     THE     GRAND     FALLS.        (FROM     A     PHOTOGRAPH     TAKEN     250     FEET     ABOVE     THE     BRINK.) 


ture  of  41°,  and  we  were  treated  to  a  superb 
display  of  northern  lights. 

September  2  was  a  memorable  day,  as  it 
marked  the  date  of  our  arrival  at  Grand  Falls. 
A  rough  march  over  the  rocks  and  bogs  inter- 
vened. As  we  approached  the  river,  spruce 
forests  of  a  heavier  growth  appeared,  and  press- 
ing on  through  these,  although  we  could  no 
longer  see  the  overhanging  mist,  the  deep  roar 
Vol.  XLIV.— 85. 


power  toward  the  steep  rock  whence  they  took 
their  wild  leap  into  the  deep  pool  below.  Turn- 
ing to  the  very  brink  and  looking  over,  we 
gazed  into  a  \\orld  of  mists  and  mighty  re- 
verberations. Here  the  exquisite  colors  of  the 
rainbow  fascinated  the  eye,  and  majestic  sounds 
of  falling  waters  continued  the  prean  of  the 
ages.  Below  and  beyond  the  seething  caldron 
the  river  appeared,  pursuing  its  turbulent  ca- 


650 


THE    GRAND   FALLS   OF  LABRADOR. 


.  SCHUSSLEn. 


CROSS     VIEW     OF     THE     RAPIDS     NEAR     THE     BRINK     OF     THE     GRAND     FALLS.       (FROM     A     PHOTOGRAPH.) 


reer  past  frowning  cliffs,  and  over  miles  of 
rapids,  where  it  heard  "no  sound  save  its  own 
dashings."  The  babel  of  waters  made  conver- 
sation a  matter  of  difficulty,  and,  after  a  mute 
exchange  of  congratulations,  we  turned  our 
attention  to  examining  the  river  in  detail  above 
and  below  the  Falls. 

A  mile  above  the  main  leap,  the  river  is  a 
noble  stream  nearly  300  yards  wide,  already 
flowing  at  an  accelerated  speed.  Four  rapids, 
marking  successive  depressions  in  the  river- 
bed, intervene  between  this  point  and  the  Falls. 
At  the  first  rapid  the  width  of  the  stream  is  not 
more  than  175  yards.  From  there  it  rapidly 
contracts  until  it  reaches  a  point  above  the  es- 
carpment proper,  where  the  entire  column  of 
fleecy  water  is  compressed  within  rocky  banks 
not  more  than  50  yards  apart.  Here  the  effect 
of  resistless  power  is  extremely  fine.  The  mad- 
dened waters,  sweeping  downward  with  terrific 
force,  rise  in  great  surging  billows  high  above 
the  encompassing  banks  ere  they  finally  hurl 
themselves  into  the  gulf  below.  A  great  pillar 
of  mist  rises  from  the  spot.  An  immense  volume 
of  water  precipitates  itself  over  the  rocky  ledge, 
and  under  favorable  conditions  the  roar  of  the 
cataract  can  be  heard  for  twenty  miles.  Below 
the  Falls,  the  river,  turning  to  the  southeast, 
pursues  its  maddened  career  for  twenty-five 
miles,  shut  in  by  vertical  cliffs  of  gneissic  rock 


which  rise  in  places  to  a  height  of  400  feet. 
Above  and  below  the  Falls  the  rocky  banks 
are  thickly  wooded  with  fir  and  spruce,  among 
which  the  graceful  form  of  the  white  birch  ap- 
pears in  places. 

While  Professor  Kenaston  and  Montague 
were  making  a  direct  measurement  of  the  prin- 
cipal fall,  which  proved  to  be  316  feet,  an 
incident  occurred  which  illustrated  the  cool 
daring  of  the  latter  in  a  striking  manner.  The 
water,  at  the  time  of  our  visit,  was  probably  as 
low  as  it  ever  is  in  the  Grand  River.  In  fact, 
from  the  debris  lodged  high  up  on  the  banks, 
we  judged  the  stream  had  fallen  at  least  ten 
feet  from  the  high-water  mark  of  the  spring 
freshets.  This  drop  in  the  river  left  exposed  a 
considerable  surface  of  the  rocky  ledge  which 
is  usually  covered  by  water,  forming  part  of  the 
brink  of  the  fall.  After  measuring  the  length 
of  the  preliminary  incline  leading  to  the  main 
leap,  Montague  was  directed  to  cast  the  plum- 
met-line over  the  rocky  edge  of  the  escarp- 
ment, in  order  to  secure  a  measurement  of 
the  principal  fall.  This  was  done;  but  while 
Professor  Kenaston  was  paying  out  the  line,  it 
caught  in  a  slight  crevice,  and  to  complete  the 
measurement  it  became  necessary  to  free  it 
at  once.  Without  a  moment's  hesitation,  our 
brave  John  clambered  down  the  steep  bank 
and  walked  out  on  the  very  brink  of  the  Falls, 


THE    GRAND    FALLS   OF  LABRADOR. 


651 


where,  stooping  down,  with  the  spray  of  the  the  caiion.     This  I  found  to  be  a  hazardous 

passing  flood  wetting  his  cheek,  he  loosened  and  exciting  undertaking.  Walking  along  the 

the  line,  and  returned  to  the  bank  in  safety,  edge  of  the  gorge  just  below  the  Falls,  two 

A  single  misstep,  or  the  slightest  giddiness  on  places  seemed  to  offer  possible  means  of  access 

his  part,  while  on  that  dizzy  height  would  have  to  the  river  below.  At  both  points  I  attempted 

resulted  tragically.     But  to  think  was  to  act  the  descent,  only  to  find,  after  lowering  myself 

with   this   hardy   Scotchman,  and,  truly,  his  from  tree  to  tree  down  the  bank,  that  a  sheer 


FENN.  ENGRAVED  BY  J.W.  EVANS. 

AT    THE    BRINK    OF    THE    GRAND    FALLS,    SHOWING    THE    CREST    OF    THE    INCLINE.       (FROM    A    PHOTOGRAPH.) 


cool  head  and  nerve  served  him  well  on  this 
occasion.! 

While  these  direct  measurements  were  being 
made,  I  turned  my  attention  to  obtaining  a 
number  of  photographs  of  the  Falls  and  rapids, 
and  then  to  securing  barometric  readings  above 
and  below  the  cataract.  In  order  to  obtain  an 
observation  at  the  lower  bed  of  the  river,  it 
was  necessary  to  descend  the  steep  walls  of 

1  At  St.  John's,  Newfoundland,  we  had  provided 
ourselves  with  several  balls  of  stout  linen  cord  with 
which  to  measure  the  height  of  the  fall,  if  the  situation 
should  be  found  suitable.  Fortunately,  alongside  the 
chute  just  above  the  brink  of  the  main  cataract,  we 
found  a  floor  of  rock  of  the  same  slope,  about  30°  below 
the  horizontal.  Along  this  it  was  possible  to  go,  but 
with  some  peril,  nearly  to  the  edge  over  which  the 
stream  plunges  in  its  final  descent.  Fastening  a  heavy 
billet  of  green  fir  to  one  end  of  the  cord,  the  weight 
was  carried  and  thrown  down  on  the  surface  of  the 
rock  to  the  brink  of  the  fall,  the  cord  being  paid  out 
from  the  upper  end  of  the  slope.  A  knot  was  made 
in  the  cord  to  mark  the  distance  to  the  edge,  and  the 
billet  was  allowed  to  fall  over  the  precipice  into  the 
chasm.  Montague,  having  climbed  along  the  bank  at 
the  edge  of  the  canon,  was  holding  on  by  the  trunk  of  a 


precipice  extended  the  remaining  fifty  or  sev- 
enty-five feet  to  the  surface  of  the  water.  On 
the  third  trial,  by  following  the  course  of  a 
tiny  streamlet,  the  bed  of  the  river  was  finally 
reached.  By  this  time  the  day  was  far  spent, 
and  darkness  almost  enveloped  the  scene  down 
in  that  imprisoned  channel-bed.  The  situation 
was  interesting,  and  filled  with  the  charm  of 
a  first  glimpse  into  one  of  nature's  solitudes. 

tree,  from  which  he  could  see  when  the  block  of  wood 
struck  the  water  below  as  the  cord  was  paid  out  by  me 
above.  The  instant  of  contact  was  plainly  visible  to 
him,  and  I  was  equally  sensible  of  it.  The  cord  was 
now  drawn  up  over  the  edge  and  carefully  measured 
with  a  tape-line.  The  whole  length  paid  out  was  505 
feet,  the  part  which  measured  the  slope  was  189  feet, 
leaving  for  the  height  of  the  main  fall  below  the  chute 
316  feet.  Allowing  for  a  few  degrees  deviation  from  the 
perpendicular,  and  for  a  slight  stretching  of  the  cord, 
though  this  last  was  probably  counteracted  by  wetting, 
the  height  of  the  fall  may  be  considered  something 
more  than  300  feet.  The  vertical  height  of  the  chute, 
about  32  feet,  added  to  the  other  measurement,  makes 
the  descent  from  the  head  of  the  chute  to  the  surface 
of  the  water  in  the  chasm  about  348  feet. — C.  A. 
Kenaston. 


652 


THE    GRAND  FALLS   OF  LABRADOR. 


In  front,  the  great  river  roaring  hoarsely  in 
the  gloom,  and  just  entering  on  its  final  jour- 
ney over  miles  of  rapids  to  the  sea.  On  the 
opposite  bank,  a  splendid  cliff  of  pinkish  hue 
led  the  eye  from  the  gloomy  base,  in  one  long 
sweep  of  hundreds  of  feet  aloft,  to  the  utmost 
pinnacle,  which  still  glowed  a  few  brief  mo- 
ments in  the  departing  rays  of  the  sun.  Dark- 
ness had  settled  over  all  when  I  clambered 
over  the  edge  above  and  made  my  way  through 
the  forest  to  the  camp,  just  above  the  Falls. 
My  long  absence  had  alarmed  my  companions, 
who  welcomed  my  appearance  within  the  cir- 
cle of  the  camp-fire  with  expressions  of  relief 
It  was  after  nine  o'clock  when  I  sat  down  to 
a  frugal  supper  that  night,  somewhat  foot-sore 
and  weary  after  the  stirring  events  of  the  day. 
The  difticulties  of  obtaining  near  views  of 
large  masses  of  falling  water  are  admitted  by  all 
photographers.  In  the  case  of  the  Grand  Falls, 
these  were  increased  by  the  character  of  the 
surroundings.  The  great  volume  of  water,  com- 
pressed as  it  is,  and  discharging  itself  through  a 
funnel-like  channel  in  the  rocks,  falls  in  a  thick, 
narrow  column  a  distance  of  316  feet,  sending 
up  banks  of  vapor  and  presenting  the  appear- 
ance from  a  distance  of  a  great  pillar  of  cloud. 
The  vegetation  is  affected  by  this  vapory  con- 
dition of  the  atmosphere,  and  thin  patches  of 
green  moss,  unlike  anything  seen  elsewhere, 
were  conspicuous  on  the  face  of  the  cliffs  just 
below  the  Falls.  Notwithstanding  the  apparent 
futility  of  the  attempt,  I  endeavored  to  obtain 
twoviews  looking  across  the  main  leap,  from  the 
bank  near  the  brink.  These  negatives  proved 
to  be  failures  on  development.  By  descending 
the  bank  as  far  as  the  steep  incline  permitted, 
and  hanging  to  the  roots  of  the  dwarf  fir-trees 
growing  thereabout,  I  was  able,  by  watching 
for  a  favorable  moment  when  the  veil  of  mist 
lightened,  to  secure  a  near  view  of  part  of  the 
main  leap.  It  was  apparent  that  the  best  van- 
tage-ground for  viewing  the  face  of  the  fall  was 
from  a  point  where  the  canon  wall  jutted  out 
a  short  distance  into  the  deep  pool  below  the 
Falls.  This  point  of  view  I  estimated  was  from 
140  to  160  feet  from  the  column  of  descending 
water,  and  down  its  rocky  edge  one  could  not 
creep  more  than  fifteen  feet  before  encounter- 
ing an  almost  vertical  wall  which  led  to  the 
river-bed  below.  While  the  rising  vapor  did  not 
envelop  us  here  as  when  nearer  the  brink,  yet 
the  effect  of  it,  rising  in  banks  from  the  base, 
while  not  unpleasing  to  the  eye,  detracted  some- 
what from  the  fine  sweep  of  the  fall,  the  out- 
line of  which  we  could  see  descending  behind 
the  veil  of  mist.  While  on  this  rocky  buttress, 
I  took  a  photograph  of  the  Falls,  and  one  of 
the  lower  part  of  the  Falls,  showing  the  mist 
rising  from  the  bottom,  both  of  which  proved 
to  be  almost  total  failures.    To  explain  further 


the  lack  of  definition  in  those  photographs,  I 
will  add  that  the  afternoon  was  far  advanced 
and  the  light  far  from  good.  The  sun  was  al- 
ready well  down  in  the  western  sky, —  across 
the  river  from  me, —  and  in  the  worst  possible 
position  for  my  purpose.  I  emphasize  this  fea- 
ture of  the  occasion,  because  it  materially  af- 
fected the  result;  for  had  the  sun  shone  from  the 
south  instead  of  the  west,  I  think  it  would  have 
been  quite  possible  to  secure  a  view  giving  at 
least  the  outline  of  the  Falls. 

In  my  descent  to  the  bottom  of  the  canon  I 
carried  my  camera,  but  I  was  unable  to  obtain 
a  view  of  the  fall  from  the  lower  bed  of  the 
river,  because  a  projecting  point  of  rock  several 
hundred  yards  up-stream  cut  off  a  distant  view 
of  the  spectacle.  The  steep  walls  of  the  gorge, 
against  which  the  water  dashed  in  places,  pre- 
vented any  considerable  advance  up-stream, 
and  I  was  reluctantly  compelled  to  abandon 
my  purpose  of  returning  the  following  morning 
to  secure  photographs  of  the  Falls  from  this 
lower  position. 

I  felt  at  the  time  that  while  the  views  of  the 
rapids  and  caiion  promised  well,  those  of  the 
Falls  could  not  be  otherwise  than  unsatisfactory. 
I  consoled  myself,  however,  by  the  thought  that 
the  light  of  the  following  morning  would  prove 
more  propitious.  Great  was  my  disappoint- 
ment, then,  when  September  3  dawned  a  dull 
and  threatening  day.  Friends  have  naively  re- 
marked, when  I  expressed  my  regret  at  not 
obtaining  a  good  view  of  the  main  fall,  "  Why 
did  you  not  remain  encamped  at  the  Falls  until 
you  had  secured  satisfactory  photographs  of 
this  most  important  object?"  Our  provisions 
were  all  but  exhausted,  only  enough  remaining 
after  breakfast  for  two  scant  meals.  To  have 
remained  under  the  circumstances  seemed  to 
risk  starvation,  for  owing  to  the  absence  of  all 
game  from  the  vicinity  there  appeared  to  be  no 
means  of  eking  out  our  supplies  by  the  usual 
devices  of  the  woodsman.  Thus  I  decided  to 
delay  no  longer  for  clear  weather;  and  the  two- 
days'  storm  which  supervened  proved,  I  think, 
my  wisdom  in  declining  to  take  the  risk. 

The  deep  incessant  roar  of  the  cataract  that 
night  was  our  lullaby  as,  stretched  out  under 
a  rough  "barricade,"  we  glided  into  that 
realm  of  forgetfulness  where  even  surround- 
ings strange  as  ours  counted  as  naught.  By 
the  morning  light  we  again  viewed  the  won- 
ders of  the  place,  and  sought  for  some  sign  of 
the  presence  of  bird  or  animal  in  the  vicinity; 
but  not  a  track,  or  the  glint  of  a  bird's  wing, 
rewarded  our  quest,  and  this  avoidance  of  the 
place  by  the  wild  creatures  of  the  forest  seemed 
to  add  a  new  element  of  severity  to  the  eternal 
loneliness  of  the  spot. 

The  Grand  Falls  of  Labrador  are  nearly 
twice  as  high  as  Niagara,  and  are  inferior  to 


THE    GRAND   FALLS   OF  LABRADOR. 


(>Si 


DRAWN   BY  HARRY  FENN.  ENGRAVED   BY  R.  VARLEY. 

VIEW    OF    THE    GRAND    FALLS,    FROM    THE    PROJECTION    OF    ROCK    BELOW.       (BASED    ON    AN    IMPERFECT    PHOTOGRAPH. 


that  marvelous  cataract  in  breadth  and  volume 
of  water  only.  One  of  their  most  striking  char- 
acteristics is  the  astonishing  leap  into  space 
which  the  torrent  makes  in  discharging  itself 
over  its  rocky  barrier.  From  the  description 
given  of  the  rapid  drop  in  the  river-bed  and  the 
coincident  narrowing  of  the  channel,  one  can 
easily  understand  that  the  cumulative  energy 
expended  in  this  final  leap  of  the  pent-up  wa- 
ters is  truly  titanic.  If  a  substratum  of  softer 
rock  existed  here,  as  at  Niagara,  a  similar  "  Cave 
of  the  Winds  "  would  enable  one  to  penetrate 
a  considerable  distance  beneath  the  fall.  The 
uniform  structure  of  the  rock,  however,  pre- 


vents any  unequal  disintegration,  and  thus  the 
overarching  sheet  of  water  covers  a  near])-  per- 
pendicular wall,  the  base  of  which  is  washed  by 
the  waters  of  the  lower  river.  In  spite  of  the 
fact  that  no  creature,  except  one  with  wings, 
could  hope  to  penetrate  this  .subaqueous  chani- 
bei",  the  place  is  inhabited,  if  we  are  to  believe 
the  traditions  of  the  Labrador  Indians.  Many 
years  ago,  so  runs  the  tale,  two  Indian  maidens 
gathering  firewood  near  the  Falls  were  enticed 
to  the  brink  and  drawn  over  by  the  evil  spirit  of 
the  place.  During  the  long  years  since  then, 
these  unfortunates  have  been  condemned  to 
dwell  beneath  the  fall  and  forced  to  toil  daily, 


654 


THE    GRAND   FALLS   OF  LABRADOR. 


RV  FENN.  ^  ENGRAVED  BY  C.  SCHWARZBURGER. 

CANON,    A    QUARTER    OF    A    MILE     BELOW    THE    GRAND    FALLS.       (FROM    A    PHOTOGRAPH.) 


dressing  deerskins,  until  now,  no  longer  young 
and  beautiful,  they  can  be  seen  betimes  through 
the  mist,  trailing  their  white  hair  behind  them 
and  stretching  out  shriveled  arms  toward  any 
mortal  who  ventures  to  visit  the  coniines  of  their 
mystic  dwelling-place.  The  Indian  name  for 
the  Grand  Falls  —  Patses-che-wan  —  means 
"  The  Narrow  Place  where  the  Water  Falls." 
Like  the  native  word  Niagara, —  "Thunder  of 
Waters," — this  Indian  designation  contains  a 
poetic  and  descriptive  quality  which  it  would 
be  hard  to  improve. 

1  After  my  departure  for  Labrador,  I  learned  of  an- 
other American  expedition  which  proposed  to  visit  the 
region  of  the  Grand  Falls  during  the  summer  of  1891. 
This  enterprise,  known  as  the  Bowdoin  College  Labra- 
dor Expedition,  under  the  leadership  of  Professor  Les- 
lie A.  Lee,  arrived  at  Rigoulette  shortly  after  Professor 
Kenaston  and  myself.  But  owing  to  our  delay  in  se- 
curing a  crew  and  transportation  inland,  the  four  mem- 


On  the  left  bank  of  the  river  above  the  Falls 
I  found  a  small  fir-tree,  about  four  inches  in  di- 
ameter, which  had  recently  been  cut  off  with  an 
ax  at  the  height  of  four  feet  from  the  ground. 
An  emptymeat-can  covered  the  stump,  beneath 
which,  secured  to  the  trunk,  was  a  bottle  con- 
taining a  written  record  of  the  fact  that  two 
members  of  the  Bowdoin  party  had  reached 
the  spot  about  two  weeks  before  us.  I  added  to 
the  written  record  a  brief  statement  of  the  time 
and  circumstances  of  our  visit,  and  resealed 
the  bottle.i 

bers  of  the  Bowdoin  party  who  were  despatched  to  visit 
the  Falls  reached  the  mouth  of  the  Grand  River  first, 
and  started  on  their  journey  u]>stream  a  week  in  ad- 
vance of  us.  The  remainder  of  the  Bowdoin  students 
cruised  along  the  coast  in  their  schooner  while  their 
comrades  were  up  the  river.  By  the  upsetting  of  one 
of  their  two  boats,  and  the  loss  of  provisions,  instru- 
ments, etc.,  W.    R.   Smith  and  E.    B.    Young  were 


THE   GRAND   FALLS   OF  LABRADOR. 


655 


From  the  point  where  the  river  leaves  the 
plateau  and  plunges  into  the  deep  pool  below 
the  Falls,  its  course  for  twenty-five  miles  is 
through  one  of  the  most  remarkable  caiions  in 
the  world.  From  the  appearance  of  the  sides 
of  this  gorge,  and  the  zigzag  line  of  the  river, 
the  indications  are  that  the  stream  has  slowly 
forced  a  channel  through  this  rocky  chasm,  cut- 
ting its  way  back,  foot  by  foot,  from  the  edge 
of  the  plateau  to  the  present  position  of  the 
Falls.  Recent  investigators  estimate  that  a 
period  of  six  thousand  years  was  required  to 
form  the  gorge  below  Niagara  Falls;  or,  in 
other  words,  that  it  has  taken  that  length  of 
time  for  the  Falls  to  recede  from  their  former 
position  at  Queenstown  Heights  to  their  pres- 
ent location.  If  it  has  taken  this  length  of  time 
for  Niagara  Falls  to  recede  a  distance  of  seven 
miles  by  the  erosive  power  of  the  water  acting 
on  a  soft  shale  rock  supporting  a  stratum  of  lime- 
stone, the  immensity  of  timeinvolved  by  assum- 
ing that  the  Grand  River  canon  was  formed  in 
the  same  way  is  so  great  that  the  mind  falters 
in  contemplating  it,  especially  when  it  is  recog- 
nized that  the  escarpment  of  the  Grand  Falls  is 
of  hard  gneissic  rock.  And  yet  no  other  expla- 
nation of  the  origin  of  this  gorge  is  acceptable, 
unless,  indeed,  we  can  assume  that  at  some 
former  time  a  fissure  occurred  in  the  earth's 
crust  as  a  result  of  igneous  agencies,  and  that 
this  fissure  ran  in  a  line  identical  with  the  pres- 
ent course  of  the  river;  in  which  case  the  drain- 
age of  the  table-land,  emptying  into  the  Grand 
River,  would  follow  the  line  of  least  resistance, 
and  in  the  course  of  time  excavate  the  fissure 
into  the  present  proportions  of  the  gorge. 

The  highest  point  reached  by  the  expedition 
was  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Falls,  where,  accord- 
ing to  the  aneroid  observations  obtained,  an 
elevation  something  in  excess  of  1500  feet  was 
noted.  Accepting  the  fact  that  results  obtained 
by  the  aneroid  barometer  are  not  regarded  as 
conclusive  by  careful  observers,  it  is  neverthe- 
less apparent  that  the  altitudes  obtained  can 
be  taken  as  at  least  approximately  correct,  espe- 
cially when  it  is  borne  in  mind  that  a  standard 
instrument  was  used,  and  corrections  for  tem- 
perature made  in  every  instance.  Thus  it  would 
appear  that  the  generally  accepted  idea  that 
the  interior  table-land  of  Labrador  attains  a 


obliged  to  turn  back.  The  two  remaining  members  of 
the  party,  Austin  Gary  and  D.  M.  Cole,  advanced  up 
the  river  in  their  boat  to  a  point  about  ten  miles  above 
the  "  Big  Hill,"  where  we  turned  off  for  the  interior 
plateau.  From  there  they  followed  the  bank  of  the 
river  as  closely  as  the  nature  of  the  country  permitted, 
until  they  reached  the  Falls.  They  did  not  measure 
the  height  of  the  cataract.  They  are  entitled  to  praise 
for  their  pluck  in  overcoming  obstacles  in  their  advance 
up  the  river,  and  for  their  courage  and  endurance  on 
the  retreat;  for  owing  to  the  spreading  of  their  camp- 


general  elevation  of  over  2000  feet  is  errone- 
ous, and  future  travelers  will  be  called  on  to 
confirm  or  reject  this  important  point  relating 
to  the  configuration  of  the  interior. 

Having  accomplished  the  main  object  of  the 
trip,  we  set  out  on  our  return  from  this  dis- 
tant end  of  the  expedition.  A  cold  rain  j^oured 
down  during  the  first  day's  tramp  across  the 
barren  plateau,  and  owing  to  a  mistake  in  the 
course  taken,  we  missed  our  former  track,  and 
became  entangled  in  a  lacustrine  region,  where 
we  wandered  for  hours,  unable  to  make  any 
headway  among  the  encompassing  lakes.  In 
the  humid  air  landmarks  became  indistinct,  and 
plunging  on  through  bogs  and  over  sharp  rocks, 
cold,  wet,  and  wearied  with  the  weight  of  our 
packs,  and  with  only  enough  flour  remaining 
for  one  meal,  our  condition  was  unpleasant  in 
the  extreme.  But  dismal  thoughts  of  being  lost 
in  this  "  great  and  terrible  wilderness"  incited 
us  to  unusual  eftbrts,  and  at  length,  by  making 
a  long  detour,  a  slight  eminence  was  gained 
from  which  we  could  pick  out  a  course  in  the 
desired  direction.  The  storm,  accompanied  by 
lightning  and  thunder,  continued  during  the 
night,  and  the  most  comfortless  evening  of  the 
entire  trip  was  passed  on  the  bleak  shores  of  a 
lake  on  this  cheerless  table-land.  In  the  course 
of  the  following  day  we  regained  the  canoe, 
and  returning  through  the  chain  of  lakes  by  the 
route  previously  used,  we  arrived  in  due  time  at 
the  camp  on  the  river,where  Geoffrey  was  await- 
ing our  return  with  some  anxiety.  Our  trials 
were  almost  ended  when  we  reached  the  river, 
and  having  embarked  on  it,  the  swift  current 
carried  us  down-stream  with  exhilarating  speed. 
Delaying  only  long  enough  to  make  a  compass 
survey  of  the  stream,  in  seven  days  the  mouth  of 
the  river  was  reached  without  serious  mishap. 

A  series  of  fierce  gales  detained  us  a  week 
at  Northwest  River,  and  we  did  not  arrive  at 
Rigoulette  until  September  22.  Sailing  thence 
in  a  schooner,  we  soon  reached  Indian  Harbor, 
a  fishing-station  on  the  coast,  where  we  had 
the  rare  good  fortune  to  secure  passage  on  a 
Norwegian  steamship,  which  brought  us  to  St. 
John's,  Newfoundland.  From  this  point  we 
took  the  regular  passenger-steamer  to  New- 
York  city,  where  we  arrived  on  October  15, 
thus  completing  a  journey  of  over  4000  miles. 

Hejiry  G.  Bryant. 

fire,  they  lost  camp,  boat,  and  outfit,  which  rendered 
their  escape  down  the  river  an  experience  of  great 
hardship.  Mr.  Gary,  in  a  letter  to  the  writer,  says  : 
"  We  were  given  but  thirty  days  from  the  vessel.  .  .  . 
We  were  compelled  to  travel  up  to  the  limit  of  our 
strength,  and  leave  scientific  matters  to  the  return  trip  ; 
and  then  on  the  return  trip  it  was  all  we  could  do  to 
carry  ourselves  out  of  the  country."  Mr.  Gary's  ac- 
count of  his  experiences  was  printed  in  a  recent  num- 
ber of  the  "  Bulletin  of  the  American  Geographical 
Society." — H.  G.  B. 


ANTONIN    DVORAK. 


HE  coming  of  Antonin  Dvorak i 
to  be  director  of  the  National 
Conservatory  of  Music  is  an 
episode  in  the  history  of  musical 
culture  in  America  which  has 
unusual  elements  of  interest.  In 
the  story  of  his  life  there  is  a  tinge  of  romance 
which  makes  its  perusal  peculiarly  delightful 
in  this  age  of  high  average  talent  and  prosaic 
plodding.  It  is  a  story  of  manifest  destiny,  of 
signal  triumph  over  obstacle  and  discouraging 
environment.  To  rehearse  it  stimulates  hope, 
reanimates  ambition,  and  helps  to  keep  alive 
popular  belief  in  the  reality  of  that  precious 
attribute  the  name  of  which  seems  almost  to 
have  dropped  out  of  the  current  musical  vo- 
cabulary. Never  in  the  history  of  the  art  did 
the  critic  of  contemporary  music  have  so  little 
use  for  the  word  genius  as  he  has  had  since  the 
death  of  Chopin. 

In  Dvorak  and  his  works  is  to  be  found  a 
twofold  encouragement  for  the  group  of  na- 
tive musicians  whose  accomplishments  of  late 
have  seemed  to  herald  the  rise  of  a  school  of 
American  composers.  The  eminent  Bohemian 
has  not  only  won  his  way  to  the  exalted  posi- 
tion which  he  occupies  by  an  exercise  of  traits 
of  mind  and  character  that  have  always  been 
peculiarly  the  admiration  of  American  man- 
hood, but  he  has  also  placed  himself  at  the  head 
(or  if  not  at  the  head,  then  at  least  in  the  front 
rank)  of  the  nationalists  in  music.  I  do  not 
like  the  term,  but  I  cannot  think  of  a  better. 
Dvorak's  example  turns  attention  again  to  the 
wealth  of  material  which  lies,  never  yet  thor- 
oughly assayed,  scarcely  touched  indeed,  in  the 
vast  mines  of  folk-music.  The  significance  of 
his  compositions  lies  in  their  blending  together 
of  popular  elements  and  classical  forms.  .These 
forms  were  as  romantic,  as  free,  in  their  origin 
as  the  people's  songs  and  dances;  and  in  the 
hands  of  genius  they  will  always  remain  pliant 
and  plastic,  in  spite  of  the  operations  of  that 
too  zealous  conservatism  which  masquerades 
as  classicism. 

There  is  measureless  comfort  in  the  prospect 
which  the  example  of  Dvorak  has  opened  up. 
It  promises  freshness  and  forcefulness  of  me- 
lodic, harmonic,  and  rhythmic  contents,  and 
newness  and  variety  in  the  vehicles  of  utterance. 
It  drives  away  the  bugaboo  of  formlessness, 
which  for  so  long  a  time  has  frightened  the  souls 

1  The  Bohemian  language  contains  a  sibilated  r,  the 
modification  of  the  usual  sound  being  indicated  by  the 
accent  over  the  letter,  as  inthe  composer's  name.    The 
Vol.  XLIV.— 86. 


of  fearful  conservatives,  by  pointing  the  way  to 
a  multifarious  development  of  forms.  For  the 
present  the  analysts  will  be  obliged  to  label  the 
new  contents  and  the  new  vessels,  but  that  will 
not  matter.  The  phrase  that  music  is  a  cosmopo- 
Hte  owing  allegiance  to  no  people  and  no  tongue 
is  become  trite.  It  should  not  be  misunderstood. 
Like  tragedy  in  its  highest  conception,  music  is 
of  all  times  and  all  peoples;  but  the  more  clearly 
the  world  comes  to  recognize  how  deep  and 
intimate  are  the  springs  from  which  the  emo- 
tional element  in  music  flows,  the  more  fully 
will  it  recognize  that  originaHty  and  power  in 
the  composer  rest  upon  the  use  of  dialects  and 
idioms  which  are  national  or  racial  in  origin 
and  structure. 

The  fate  which  gave  the  world  a  composer  of 
music  robbed  Bohemia  of  a  butcher.  Franz 
Dvorak,  the  father  of  Antonin,  was  the  village 
butcher  and  innkeeper  at  Nelahozeves  (Miihl- 
hausen),  and  his  ambition  touching  his  son, 
who  was  born  on  September  8,  1841,  ran  no 
higher  than  to  bring  him  up  so  that  he  might 
take  his  place  in  what  seemed  the  natural  line 
of  succession.  In  forming  this  resolve,  which 
was  broken  down  only  after  a  long  struggle,  the 
father  showed  no  appreciation  of  the  extent 
and  character  of  his  son's  musical  gifts;  yet  in 
this  he  was  scarcely  blameworthy.  A  love  for 
music,  and  a  certain  aptitude  in  the  practice  of 
the  art,  are  the  birthright  of  every  Bohemian. 
"  I  had  frequently  been  told,"  wrote  Dr.  Bur- 
ney  over  a  century  ago,  "  that  the  Bohemians 
were  the  most  musical  people  of  Germany,  or 
perhaps  of  all  Europe;  and  an  eminent  Ger- 
man composer,  now  in  London,  had  declared 
to  me  that  if  they  enjoyed  the  same  advantages 
as  the  Italians  they  would  excel  them."  The 
great  historian  was  skeptical  in  the  premises, 
being  convinced  that  "  nature,  though  often 
partial  to  individuals  in  her  distribution  of  ge- 
nius and  talents,  is  never  so  to  a  whole  people," 
and  being  unable  to  account  for  chmate  (the  in- 
fluence of  which  in  the  direction  indicated  he 
was  ready  to  confess)  operating  more  in  favor  of 
music  upon  the  Bohemians  than  on  their  neigh- 
bors, the  Saxons  and  Moravians.  Nevertheless, 
soon  after  his  arrival  in  the  country  he  was 
privileged  to  discover  one  cause  of  the  preemi- 
nence of  the  Bohemians  in  music.  At  Czaslan 
he  found  a  school  full  of  "little  children  of  both 
sexes,  from  six  to  ten  or  eleven  years  old,  who 

effect  of  the  accent  is  to  cause  the  f  to  be  pronounced 
like  the  German  letters  "rsch."  The  name  is  there- 
fore to  be  pronounced  "  Dvorschak." 


658 


ANTONIN  DVORAK. 


were  reading,  writing,  playing  on  violins,  haut- 
boys, bassoons,  and  other  instruments."  After 
that  it  was  easy  ibr  him  to  understand  how  the 
nobility  of  the  country  could  maintain  orchestras 
in  their  houses.  In  keeping  servants  it  was  impos- 
sible to  do  otherwise,  "  as  all  the  children  of  the 
peasants  and  tradespeople  in  every  town  and  vil- 
lage throughout  the  kingdom  of  Bohemia  are 
taught  music  at  the  common  reading-schools, 
except  in  Prague,  where,  indeed,  it  is  no  part 
of  school  learning,  the  musicians  being  brought 
thither  from  the  country." 

It  was  the  village  schoolmaster  at  Nelaho- 
zeves  who  taught  Dvorak  to  play  the  violin  and 
to  sing,  probably  with  no  greater  expectations 
than  those  aroused  by  scores  of  the  boy 's  school- 
mates, though  it  was  noted  afterward  that  An- 
tonin  had  betrayed  more  than  common  interest 
when  the  itinerant  musicians  enlivened  the 
church  holidays  by  playing  at  his  father's  inn. 
Before  the  lad  was  twelve  years  old  he  himself 
could  take  a  hand  with  the  peripatetic  fiddlers 
and  blowers.  In  1853  he  was  sent  to  school 
at  Zlonitz,  where  an  organist  taught  him  a  little 
theory  and  introduced  his  hand  to  the  key- 
boards of  the  pianoforte  and  organ.  This  in- 
struction endured  two  years,  when  his  father, 
who  meanwhile  had  transferred  his  residence 
to  Zlonitz,  sent  him  to  a  more  advanced  school 
at  Kamnitz,  where  his  mind  was  to  receive  its 
final  polish,  and  where,  in  particular,  he  was  to 
acquire  the  German  language  in  obedience  to 
the  law  of  the  land.  Unlike  his  musical  studies, 
this  was  not  a  labor  of  love.  Dvorak  had  in- 
herited all  the  fierce  hatred  which  the  Czechs 
feel  for  the  Germans,  and  even  to-day  necessity 
alone  can  persuade  him  to  speak  or  write  the 
German  tongue.  His  cantata  "  The  Spectre's 
Bride  "  and  his  oratorio  "  St.  Ludmilla  "  were 
composed  to  Bohemian  words,  which  were  then 
translated  into  German,  and  from  the  German 
into  English. 

It  was  while  he  was  at  Kamnitz  that  he  first 
became  ambitious  to  exhibit  his  skill  as  a  com- 
poser. It  may  be  that  a  very  obvious  and  laud- 
able aim  was  behind  a  surprise  which  he  pre- 
pared for  his  father  after  he  had  been  studying 
a  year  with  Organist  Hancke.  He  had  not  yet 
won  his  father's  consent  to  follow  music-mak- 
ing rather  than  sausage-making  for  a  living. 
Returned  to  the  paternal  inn  with  its  obbligato 
abattoir  at  Zlonitz,  he  surprised  his  father  by 
producing  the  orchestral  score  of  a  polka,  which 
he  proudly  placed  in  the  hands  of  the  conve- 
nient band  for  performance.  It  was  indeed  a 
surprise.  Instead  of  the  expected  harmonies, 
the  young  composer's  ears  were  assaulted  by 
fearful  discords,  due  to  the  circumstance  that 
the  trumpets  played  a  fourth  higher  than  the 
harmony  permitted.  Trumpets  are  transposing 
instruments,  but  Antonin  did  not  know  that 


fact,  and  had  written  his  music  for  them  in  the 
key  that  he  expected  to  hear.  This  unhappy 
experiment,  though  it  may  not  have  caused  any 
embarrassment,  at  least  did  not  help  him  to 
beat  down  his  father's  stubborn  opposition  to 
his  adoption  of  music  as  a  profession,  and  it 
was  a  long  time  before  he  gained  permission  to 
go  to  Prague  and  enter  the  organ-school  main- 
tained by  the  Society  for  Ecclesiastical  Music. 
The  permission,  when  it  came,  brought  with  it 
little  guarantee  of  financial  support,  and  for 
three  years  after  he  entered  the  school  in  Oc- 
tober, 1857,  he  kept  himself  alive  by  playing 
the  viola  in  a  band  of, eighteen  or  twenty  men 
who  regaled  the  frequenters  of  cafes  and  other 
public  resorts  with  popular  dances,  potpourris, 
and  overtures.  In  this  way  he  earned  twenty- 
two  florins  a  month  (about  $9),  adding  some- 
thing to  this  sum  by  playing  with  the  band- 
master in  sextets  at  an  insane  asylum,  where  his 
knowledge  of  the  organ  also  found  occupation. 
As  yet  he  had  never  had  an  opportunity  to 
study  the  scores  of  the  masters  or  to  hear  an 
opera.  On  one  memorable  occasion  four  cents 
would  have  bought  him  the  privilege  of  hear- 
ing "  Der  Freischiitz  "  from  the  cheapest  place 
in  the  opera-house;  but  the  sum  was  more 
than  he  had  in  his  pockets,  and  an  effort  to 
borrow  resulted  in  failure.  It  was  not  until  he 
became  a  member  of  a  theatrical  orchestra  that 
he  made  the  acquaintance  of  operatic  literature 
beyond  the  overtures  and  potpourris  which 
were  the  stock-in-trade  of  the  popular  bands. 
Concerts  of  the  better  class  he  managed  to  hear 
occasionally  by  slipping  into  the  orchestra  and 
hiding  behind  the  drums. 

In  1862  a  Bohemian  theater  was  opened  in 
Prague,  and  the  band  to  which  Dvorak  be- 
longed was  hired  to  furnish  the  music.  It  was 
a  modest  undertaking,  but  it  made  a  powerful 
appeal  to  the  patriotic  feeling  of  the  Czechs, 
and  in  time  was  developed  into  the  National 
Theater.  The  change  was  a  welcome  stepping- 
stone  for  the  budding  musician.  With  some  of 
his  associates  he  was  drafted  into  the  larger 
orchestra  of  the  greater  institution.  He  now 
made  the  acquaintance  of  Karl  Bendl,  a  popu- 
lar and  admirable  composer,  who  placed  in  his 
hands  the  scores  of  Beethoven's  septet  and  the 
quartets  of  Onslow,  and  thus  opened  the  door 
of  the  classics  to  him.  How  great  a  stimulus 
to  his  zeal,  industry,  and  ambition  these  scores 
were,  can  only  be  imagined.  He  began  at  once 
to  compose  in  the  higher  forms,  producing  a 
quintet  for  strings  in  1862,  finishing  two  sym- 
phonies before  1865,  and  trying  his  'prentice 
hand  on  an  opera.  But  these  compositions  all 
went  into  his  desk  ;  he  did  not  venture  before 
the  public  until  1873,  when,  having  received 
an  appointment  as  organist  at  St.  Adalbert's 
Church,  he  quit  playing  in  the  theatrical  or- 


ANTONiN  DVOAAK. 


659 


chestra,  took  unto  himself  a  wife,  and  celebrated 
his  good  fortune  by  writing  the  music  for  a  can- 
tata entided  "  The  Heirs  of  the  White  Moun- 
tains." The  subject  was  patriotic,  and  the 
markedly  national  characteristics  of  the  music 
won  for  the  cantata  prompt  and  hearty  rec- 
ognition in  Prague.  It  was  followed  in  1874 
by  a  symphony  in  E  flat,  two  nocturnes  for 
orchestra,  and  a  scherzo  for  a  symphony  in  D 
minor.  Prague,  which  has  ever  been  prompt 
to  recognize  genius  (as  witness  that  episode  in 
Mozart's  Hfe  which  flowered  in  "  Don  Gio- 
vanni"), now  saw  in  the  young  man  of  thirty- 
three  a  possible  peer  of  Gyrowetz,  Wanhal, 
Dionys  Weber,  Wranitzky,  Duschek,  Ambros, 
Dreyschock,  KaUivvoda,  Kittl,  Moscheles,  Na- 
pravnik,  Neswadba,  Smetana,  Skroup,  and 
other  favorite  sons,  and  the  National  Theater 
commissioned  him  to  compose  an  opera. 

Not  long  before,  Wagner  had  been  in  Prague, 
and  Dvorak  had  become,  as  he  says,  "  per- 
fectly crazy  about  him,"  following  him  through 
the  streets  to  catch  occasional  glimpses  of  "  the 
great  litde  man's  face."  More  than  this,  Dvorak 
had  just  heard  "  Die  Meistersinger."  Under 
such  influences  he  wrote  the  music  of  "  The 
King  and  the  Colher,"  and  produced  a  score 
which  on  rehearsal  everybody  about  the  theater 
agreed  in  pronouncing  to  be  utterly  imprac- 
ticable. It  could  not  be  sung,  and  was  aban- 
doned until  1875,  when  Dvorak  took  the  book 
up  again  and  composed  it  afresh,  giving  him- 
self up  wholly  to  the  current  of  his  own  ideas, 
and  making  no  eftbrt  to  imitate  the  manner  of 
Wagner.  He  had  learned  that  it  was  given  to 
but  one  to  bend  the  bow  of  Ulysses.  In  its  new 
musical  garb  the  opera  was  performed,  and 
again  popular  favor  was  won  by  the  national 
tinge  in  the  music  and  by  its  elemental  strength. 

The  time  had  now  come  for  the  Czech  to 
show  himself  to  the  world.  In  the  control  of 
the  Austrian  Ministry  of  Education  {Kultus- 
viijiisterium)  there  is  a  fund  for  the  encourage- 
ment of  musical  composers.  This  is  doled  out 
in  stipends,  the  merit  of  applicants  being  passed 
on  by  a  commission  appointed  for  the  purpose. 
Dvorak  sent  to  Vienna  a  symphony  and  his 
opera,  and  received  a  grant  of  $160.  The 
next  year  he  applied  again,  and  though  his 
thesis  consisted  of  his  now  celebrated  "  Stabat 
Mater  "  and  a  new  opera,  "  Wanda,"  nothing 
came  of  the  application.  On  a  third  trial, 
which  was  supported  by  the  book  of  vocal 
duets  called  "  Sounds  from  Moravia  "  ("  Klange 
aus  Miihren")  and  other  compositions,  the 
commission,  which  now  consisted  of  Johannes 
Brahms,  Johann  Herbeck,  and  Dr.  Edward 
Hanslick,  recommended  a  grant  of  $240. 
More  valuable  than  the  stipend,  however, 
was  the  interest  which  his  music  had  awakened 
in  Brahms  and  Hanslick.    The  latter  sent  offi- 


cial notification  of  the  action  of  the  commission, 
which  the  former  supplemented  with  a  personal 
letter  in  which  he  informed  the  ambitious  com- 
poser that  he  had  advised  Simrock  to  print 
some  of  his  compositions.  An  invitation  came 
from  the  Berhn  pubhsher  soon  after,  Dvorak 
composed  a  set  of  Slavonic  dances  as  piano- 
forte duets,  the  dances  soon  after  found  their 
way  into  the  concert-rooms  of  Berlin,  London, 
and  New  York  (Theodore  Thomas  brought 
them  forward  in  the  latter  city  in  the  winter  of 
1879-80),  and  the  name  of  Dvorak  became 
known  to  the  musical  world.  It  was  reserved, 
however,  for  the  composition  which  the  Aus- 
trian Commission  had  ignored  to  lift  him  to 
the  height  of  popularity  and  fame.  On  March 
10,  1883,  the  London  Musical  Society  per- 
formed his  "  Stabat  Mater."  The  work  created 
a  veritable  sensation,  which  was  intensified  by 
a  repetition  under  the  direction  of  the  composer 
three  days  later,  and  a  performance  at  the  Wor- 
cester festival  in  1884.  He  now  became  the 
prophet  of  the  Enghsh  choral  festivals.  For 
Birmingham,  in  1885,  he  composed  "The  Spec- 
tre's Bride";  for  Leeds,  in  1886,  "St.  Lud- 
milla";  for  Birmingham,  in  1891,  the  "Re- 
quiem Mass,"  which  last  work  was  produced 
in  New  York  and  Cincinnati  within  six  months 
of  its  first  performance  in  England.  Mean- 
while two  or  three  of  his  symphonies,  his  sym- 
phonic variations  for  orchestra,  scherzo  capric- 
cioso,  dramatic  overture  "  Husitska,"  and  his 
Slavonic  dances  have  become  prime  favorites 
with  the  audiences  for  whom  Mr.  Seidl  caters 
in  New  York,  Mr.  Nikisch  in  Boston,  and 
Mr.  Thomas  in  Chicago.  Last  year  the  com- 
poser who  had  not  four  cents  in  his  pocket 
to  buy  admission  to  "  Der  Freischiitz  "  thirty 
years  ago,  and  who  was  glad  to  accept  a  stipend 
of  $160  from  the  Austrian  government  less 
than  twenty  years  ago,  signed  a  contract  to 
perform  the  functions  of  Director  of  the  Na- 
tional Conservatory  of  Music  for  three  years 
at  a  salary  of  $15,000  a  year. 

The  forcefulness  and  freshness  of  Dvorak's 
music  come  primarily  from  his  use  of  dialects 
and  idioms  derived  from  the  folk-music  of  the 
Czechs.  This  music  is  first  cousin  to  that  of 
Russia  and  Poland,  and  the  significance  of  the 
phenomenon  that  Dvorak  presents  is  increased 
by  the  rapid  rise  of  the  Muscovite  school  of 
composers  exemplified  in  Tschaikowsky,  Rim- 
sky- Korsakow,  and  Cui.  Ever  since  the  begin- 
ning of  the  Romantic  movement  the  influence 
of  folk-music  has  been  felt,  but  never  in  the 
degree  that  it  is  felt  now.  Haydn,  Beethoven, 
and  Schubert  made  use  of  Hungarian  melo- 
dies, but  none  of  them  was  able  to  handle 
their  characteristic  elements  in  such  a  manner 
as  to  make  them  the  vital  part  of  their  com- 
positions.   Something  of  the  spiritual  essence 


66o 


ANTON fN  DVOMK. 


of  the  music  of  the  Northland  crept  into  the 
music  of  Gade, —  the  melancholy  brooding  in- 
spired by  the  deep  fiords  and  frowning  cUffs, 
the  naive,  sunny  pleasures  of  the  mountain 
pastures, —  but  the  feelings  lacked  frankness 
of  proclamation.  Chopin  laid  the  dance-forms 
of  Poland  under  tribute,  and  Liszt,  the  prince 
of  transcribers,  made  the  melodies  of  Hungary 
native  to  the  pianoforte.  But  Chopin  was  most 
national  in  the  stately  measures  of  the  aristo- 
cratic polonaise,  and  Liszt  sang  the  melodies 
of  the  Magyar  in  the  vernacular  of  the  ubiqui- 
tous gipsy. 

Meanwhile  the  cry  was  universal  for  new 
paths  and  new  sources  in  the  larger  forms  of 
music.  The  answer  has  come  from  the  Slavonic 
school,  which  is  youthful  enough  to  have  pre- 
served the  barbaric  virtue  of  truthfulness  and 
fearlessness  in  the  face  of  convention.  This 
school  seeks  to  give  free  expression  to  the  spirit 
which  originally  created  the  folk-songs  of  the 
Slavonic  peoples.  Its  characteristics  are  rhyth- 
mic energy  and  harmonic  daring.  The  devel- 
opment of  orchestral  technic  has  placed  in  its 
hands  the  capacity  for  instrumental  coloring, 
which  not  only  helps  to  accentuate  the  native 
elements  of  the  music,  but  lends  it  that  bar- 
baric vividness  in  which  Tschaikowsky  and 
Rimsky-Korsakow  delight.  There  are  many 
places  in  which  the  folk-songs  and  dances  of 
Bohemians  and  Russians  touch  hands,  but  the 
more  ancient  culture  of  the  Czechs  is  seen  in 
the  higher  development  of  their  forms  and 
rhythms,  as  it  is  also  manifest  in  the  refinement 
of  Dvorak's  treatment  of  the  national  elements 
in  his  compositions.  The  Bohemian  language 
is  unique  among  modern  languages,  in  that, 
like  Latin  and  Greek,  it  possesses  both  accent 
and  quantity  independent  of  each  other.  This 
circumstance  may  have  had  something  to  do 
with  the  development  of  the  varied  rhythms 
which  a  study  of  Dvorak's  music  reveals.  More 
than  melody,  rhythm  proclaims  the  spirit  of  a 
people.  If  you  wish  to  study  a  splendid  illus- 
tration of  this  truth, —  a  truth  significant  enough 
to  demand  the  attention  of  ethnologists, —  listen 
to  a  performance  of  Dvorak's  "  Husitska"  over- 
ture. It  is  one  of  the  few  compositions  by  the 
Bohemian  master  in  which  he  has  treated  a 


melody  not  his  own.  He  is  not  a  nationahst  in 
the  Lisztian  sense ;  he  borrows  not  melodies 
but  the  characteristic  elements  of  melodies  from 
the  folk-songs  of  his  people.  In  the  "  Husitska," 
however,  he  has  made  use  of  an  old  battle-song 
of  the  Hussites,  which  dates  back  to  the  fifteenth 
century.  "  Ye  warriors  of  the  highest  God 
and  his  laws,  pray  to  him  for  help,  and  trust 
in  him,  that  in  the  end  ye  always  triumph  with 
him ;  "  thus  run  the  words.  Think  of  them 
in  connection  with  those  fierce  fighters,  of 
whom  it  is  related  that  they  went  down  upon 
their  knees,  whole  armies  of  them,  and  chanted 
such  prayers  before  attacking  their  enemies ! 
But  your  imagination  will  not  be  able  to  con- 
jure back  the  spirit  of  such  a  battle-hymn  un- 
less it  is  helped  by  the  music.  Try  the  open- 
ing phrase,  then, —  the  phrase  which  lies  at  the 
foundation  of  Dvorak's  overture, —  upon  the 
pianoforte : 


P 


— 1» h- 


Great  Je  -    to    -    vah's     val  •  iant  war  -    riora  ! 


A  phrase  for  Cromwell's  Roundheads  —  each 
syllable  a  blow,  each  blow  implacable,  merci- 
less !    Note  the  meter :  -^  ^ w^-- . 

The  medieval  grammarians  call  it  Ionic  minor 
tetrameter,  and  good  old  Bishop  Aldhelm  de- 
scribes it  as  fitted  for  "  brayings  and  bellow- 
ings."  You  shall  look  in  vain  for  an  example 
of  it  in  the  whole  body  of  English  poetry ;  but 
in  Horace's  ode  "Ad  Neobulen  "  (Liber  III, 
Carmen  xii)  you  may  find  it  putting  on  antic 
airs : 

Miserar'  est  nequ'  amori  dare  ludum,  neque  dulci 
Mala  vino  laver' ;  aut  exanimari,  metuentes 
Patruse  verbera  Ungues. 

Did  the  elegant  Latin  poet  catch  the  rugged 
step  from  some  northern  barbarian  upon  whom 
he  chanced  in  the  streets  of  Rome  ?  Who 
shall  say  ? 

H.  E.  Krehbiel. 


THE  NATURE  AND  ELEMENTS  OF .  POETRY.^ 

VII.     IMAGINATION. 


youth  to  be  impressed  by  the  latest  models,  to 
catch  the  note  of  its  own  morntime.  Many  know 

I^W    upon  the  characteris-  the  later  favorites  by  heart,  yet  perhaps  have 

-_     ^v)    tics  of  recent  poetry,  neverread  an  English  classic.  We  hear  them  say, 

k^    Take,   for    example,  "  Who  reads  Milton  now,  or  Byron,  or  Cole- 

/KiS    the  verse  of  our  Ian-  ridge  ?  "    It  is  just  as  well.    Otherwise  a  new 

f^Mv)    guage  produced  dur-  voice  might  not  be  welcomed  —  would  have 

ing  the  laureateship  less  chance  to  gain  a  hearing.    Yet  I  think  that 

of    Tennyson,    and  even  the  younger  generation  will  agree  with  me 

since  the  rise,  let  us  that  there  are  lacking  qualities  to  give  distinc- 

say,  of  Longfellow  and  his  American  compeers,  tion  to  poetry  as  the  most  impressive  Hterature 

In  much  of  this  composition  you  detect  an  of  our  time;  qualities  for  want  of  which  it  is  not 

artistic  convergence  of  form,  sound,  and  color  now  the  chief  force,  but  is  compelled  to  yield 

■  —  a  nice  adjustment  of  parts,  a  sense  of  crafts-  its  eminence  to  other  forms  of  composition, 

manship,  quite  unusual  in  the  impetuous  Geor-  especially  to  prose  fiction,  realistic  or  romantic, 

gian  revival  —  certainly  not  displayed  by  any  and  to  the  literature  of  scientific  research, 

poets  of  that  time  except  those  among  whom  If  you  compare  our  recent  poetry,  grade  for 

Keats  was  the  paragon  and  Leigh  Hunt  the  grade,  with  the  Elizabethan  or  the  Georgian, 


propagandist.  You  find  a  vocabulary  far  more 
elaborate  than  that  from  which  Keats  wrought 
his  simple  and  perfected  beauty.  The  conscious 
refinement  of  our  minor  lyrists  is  in  strong 
contrast  with  the  primitive  method  of  their  ro- 
mantic predecessors.  Some  of  our  verse,  from 
"  Woodnotes  "  and  "  In  Memoriam  "  and  "  Fer- 
ishtah's  Fancies"  down,  is  charged  with  whole- 
some and  often  subtile  thought.  There  has  been 
a  marked  idyllic  picturesqueness,  besides  a 
variety  of  classical  and  Preraphaelite  experi- 
ments, and  a  good  deal  of  genuine  and  tender 
feeling.  Our  leaders  have  been  noted  for  taste 
or  thought  or  conviction  —  often  for  these  traits 
combined.  But  we  obtain  our  average  impres- 
sion of  a  literary  era  from  the  temper  of  its 
writers  at  large.  Of  late  our  clever  artists  in  verse 
—  for  such  they  are  —  seem  with  a  few  excep- 
tions indifterent  to  thought  and  feeling,  and 
avoid  taking  their  oftice  seriously.  A  vogue  of 
light  and  troubadour  verse-making  has  come, 
and  now  is  going  as  it  came.  Every  possible 
mode  of  artisanship  has  been  tried  in  turn. 
The  like  conditions  prevail  upon  the  Conti- 
nent, at  least  as  far  as  France  is  concerned ;  in 


I  think  you  will  quickly  realize  that  the  char- 
acteristics which  alone  can  confer  the  distinc- 
tion of  which  I  speak  are  those  which  we  call 
Imagination  and  Passion.  Poetry  does  not  seem 
to  me  very  great,  very  forceful,  unless  it  is  either 
imaginative  or  impassioned,  or  both;  and  in 
sooth,  if  it  is  the  one,  it  is  very  apt  to  be  the 
other. 

The  younger  lyrists  and  idyllists,  when  find- 
ing little  to  evoke  these  qualities,  have  done 
their  best  without  them.  Credit  is  due  to  our 
craftsmen  for  what  has  been  called  "  a  finer  art  in 
our  day."  It  is  wiser,  of  course,  to  succeed  within 
obvious  limits  than  to  flounder  ambitiously  out- 
side them.  But  the  note  of  spontaneity  is  lost. 
Moreover,  extreme  finish,  adroitness,  graces, 
do  not  inevitably  betoken  the  glow  of  imagina- 
tive conception,  the  ecstasy  of  high  resolve. 

If  anything  great  has  been  achieved  without 
exercise  of  the  imagination,  I  do  not  know  of 
it.  I  am  referring  to  striking  productions  and 
achievements,  not  to  acts  of  virtue.  Neverthe- 
less, at  the  last  analysis,  it  might  be  found  that 
imagination  has  impelled  even  the  saints  and 


fact,  the  caprices  of  our  minor  minstrelsy  have  martyrs  of  humanity, 
been  largely  the  outcome  of  a  new  literary        Imagination  is  the  creative  origin  of  what  is 

Gallomania.  fine,  not  in  art  and  song  alone,  but  also  in  all 

Now,  I  think  you  will  feel  that  there  is  some-  forms  of  action — in  campaigns,  civil  triumphs, 

thing  unsatisfactory;  something  much  less  sat-  material  conquest.  I  have  mentioned  its  indis- 

isfactory  than  what  we  find  in  the  little  prose  pensability  to  the  scientists.    It  takes,  they  sur- 

masterpieces  of  the  new  American  school ;  that  mise,  four  hundred  and  ninety  years  for  the  light 


from  the  mass  of  all  this  rhythmical  work  the 
higher  standard  of  poetry  could  scarcely  be  de- 
rived.  To  be  sure,  it  is  the  providential  wont  of 


of  Rigel  to  visit  us.  Modern  imagination  goes 
in  a  second  to  the  darkness  beyond  the  utmost 
star,  speculates  whether  the  ether  itself  may  not 


1  Copyright,  1892,  by  Edmund  Clarence  Stedman. 


66: 


THE  NATURE  AND  ELEMENTS   OF  POETRY. 


have  a  limiting  surface,  is  prepared  to  see  at  any 
time  a  new  universe  come  sailing  from  the  outer 
void,  or  to  discover  a  universe  within  our  own 
under  absolutely  novel  conditions.  It  posits 
molecules,  atomic  rings;  it  wreaks  itself  upon 
the  ultimate  secrets  of  existence.  But  in  the 
practical  world  our  men  of  action  are  equally, 
though  often  unwittingly,  possessed  by  it.  The 
imagination  of  inventors,  organizers,  merchant 
princes,  railway  kings,  is  conceptive  and  strenu- 
ous. It  bridges  rivers,  tunnels  mountains,  makes 
an  ocean-ferry,  develops  the  forces  of  vapor 
and  electricity,  and  carries  each  to  swift  utihty; 
is  already  picturing  an  empery  of  the  air,  and 
doubtless  sighs  that  its  tangible  franchise  is 
restricted  to  one  humble  planet. 

If  the  triumphs  of  the  applied  imagination 
have  more  and  more  engrossed  pubHc  atten- 
tion, it  must  be  remembered  that  its  exhibitors, 
accumulating  wealth,  promote  the  future  struc- 
tures of  the  artist  and  poet.  In  the  Old  World 
this  has  been  accomplished  through  the  instru- 
mentality of  central  governments.  In  a  de- 
mocracy the  individual  imagination  has  the 
hberty,  the  duty,  of  free  play  and  achievement. 
Therefore  we  say  that  in  this  matter  our  re- 
publicanism is  on  trial ;  that,  with  a  forecast 
more  exultant,  as  it  is  with  respect  to  our  own 
future,  than  that  of  any  people  on  earth,  our 
theory  is  wrong  unless  through  private  impulse 
American  foundations  in  art,  learning,  human- 
ity, are  not  even  more  continuous  and  munifi- 
cent than  those  resulting  in  other  countries  from 
governmental  promotion. 

As  for  the  poetic  imagination,  as  distin- 
guished from  that  of  the  man  of  affairs,  if  it 
cannot  parcel  out  the  earth,  it  can  enable  us 
to  "get  along  just  as  well  without  it"  —  and 
this  by  furnishing  a  substitute  at  will.  There 
is  no  statement  of  its  magic  so  apt  as  that  of 
our  master  magician.  It  "  bodies  forth  the 
forms  of  things  unknown,"  and  through  the 
poet's  pen 

Turns  them  to  shapes,  and  gives  to  airy  nothing 
A  local  habitation  and  a  name. 

I  seldom  refer  to  Shakspere  in  these  lectures, 
since  we  all  instinctively  resort  to  him  as  to  na- 
ture itself;  his  text  being  not  only  the  chief 
illustration  of  each  phase  that  may  arise,  but 
also,  Hke  nature,  presenting  all  phases  in  com- 
bination. It  displays  more  of  clear  and  vari- 
ous beauty,  more  insight,  surer  descriptive 
touches, —  above  all,  more  human  life, —  than 
that  of  any  other  poet ;  yes,  and  more  art,  in 
spite  of  a  certain  constructive  disdain  —  the 
free  and  prodigal  art  that  is  like  nature's  own. 
Thus  he  seems  to  require  our  whole  attention 
or  none,  and  it  is  as  well  to  illustrate  a  special 
quality  by  some  poet  more  dependent  upon  it. 


Yet  if  there  is  one  gift  which  sets  Shakspere 
at  a  distance  even  from  those  who  approach 
him  on  one  or  another  side,  it  is  that  of  his 
imagination.  As  he  is  the  chief  of  poets,  we 
infer  that  the  faculty  in  which  he  is  superemi- 
nent  must  be  the  greatest  of  poetic  endow- 
ments. Yes;  in  his  wonderland,  as  elsewhere, 
imagination  is  king. 

There  is  little  doubt  concerning  the  hold  of 
Shakspere  upon  future  ages.  I  have  some- 
times debated  whether,  in  the  change  of  dra- 
matic ideals  and  of  methods  in  Hfe  and  thought, 
he  may  not  become  outworn  and  alien.  But 
the  purely  creative  quality  of  his  imagination 
renders  it  likely  that  its  structures  will  endure. 
Prehistoric  Hellas  is  far  removed  from  our  ex- 
perience ;  yet  Homer,  by  force  of  a  less  afflu- 
ent imagination,  is  a  universal  poet  to-day  — 
to-day,  when  there  is  scarcely  a  law  of  physics 
or  of  art  familiar  to  us  that  was  not  unknown 
to  Homer's  world.  Shakspere's  imagination 
is  still  more  independent  of  discovery,  place, 
or  time.  It  is  neither  early  nor  late,  antiquated 
nor  modem ;  or,  rather,  it  is  always  modem 
and  abiding.  The  beings  which  he  creates,  if 
suddenly  transferred  to  our  conditions,  would 
make  themselves  at  home.  His  land  is  one 
wherein  the  types  of  all  ages  meet  and  are  con- 
temporary. He  created  beings,  and  took  cir- 
cumstances as  he  found  them ;  that  is,  as  his 
knowledge  enabled  him  to  conceive  of  them 
at  the  time.  The  garb  and  manners  of  his  per- 
sonages were  also  a  secondary  matter.  Each 
successive  generation  makes  the  acquaintance 
of  these  creatures,  and  troubles  itself  little  about 
their  fashions  and  acquirements.  Knowledge  is 
progressive,  communicable  :  the  types  of  soul 
are  constant,  and  are  sufficient  in  themselves. 

It  does  no  harm,  as  I  said  at  the  outset  of 
this  course,  for  the  most  advanced  audience 
to  go  back  now  and  then  to  the  primer  of  art 
— to  think  upon  the  meaning  of  an  elementary 
term.  Nor  is  it  an  easy  thing  to  formulate 
clear  statements  of  qualities  which  we  instantly 
recognize  or  miss  in  any  human  production, 
and  for  which  we  have  a  ready,  a  traditional, 
nomenclature.  So,  then,  what  is  the  artistic  im- 
agination, that  of  one  who  expresses  his  con- 
ceptions in  form  or  language  ?  I  should  call 
it  a  faculty  of  conceiving  things  according  to 
their  actuahties  or  possibilities  —  that  is,  as  they 
are  or  may  be  ;  of  conceiving  them  clearly ;  of 
seeing  with  the  eyes  closed,  and  hearing  with 
the  ears  sealed,  and  vividly  feeling,  things 
which  exist  only  through  the  will  of  the  artist's 
genius.  Not  only  of  conceiving  these,  but  of 
holding  one's  conceptions  so  well  in  mind  as 
to  express  them  —  to  copy  them  —  in  actual 
language  or  form. 

The  strength  of  the  imagination  is  propor- 


IMAGINATION. 


663 


tioned,  in  fact,  to  its  definiteness,  and  also  to 
the  stress  of  its  continuance  —  of  the  memory 
which  prolongs  it  for  utilization.  Every  one  has 
more  or  less  of  this  ideal  faculty.  The  natural- 
ness of  children  enables  us  to  judge  of  their 
respective  allotments.  A  mother  knows  which 
of  her  brood  is  the  imaginative  one.  She  realizes 
that  it  has  a  rare  endowment,  yet  one  as  peril- 
ous as  "the  fatal  gift  of  beauty."  Her  pride,  her 
solicitude,  are  equally  centered  in  that  child. 
Now  the  clearer  and  more  self- retentive  this 
faculty,  the  more  decided  the  ability  of  one  in 
whom  it  reaches  the  grade  at  which  he  may 
be  a  designer,  an  artist,  or  a  poet. 

Let  us  see.  Most  of  us  have  a  sense  of  music. 
Tunes  of  our  own  "  beat  time  to  nothing  "  in 
the  head.  We  can  retain  the  theme,  or  open- 
ing phrase,  at  least,  of  a  new  composition  that 
pleases  us.  But  the  musician,  the  man  of  genius, 
is  haunted  with  unbidden  harmonies;  besides, 
after  hearing  a  difficult  and  prolonged  piece  he 
holds  it  in  memory,  perhaps  can  repeat  it, —  as 
when  a  Von  Biilow  repeats  offhand  an  entire 
composition  by  Liszt.  Moreover,  his  mind  def- 
initely hears  its  own  imaginings;  otherwise  the 
sonata,  the  opera,  will  be  confused  and  inferior. 
Again :  most  of  us,  especially  when  nervous  or 
half  asleep,  find  the  "  eyes  make  pictures  when 
they  are  shut."  Faces  come  and  go,  or  change 
with  startling  vividness.  The  face  that  comes 
to  a  born  painter  does  not  instantly  go ;  that  of 
an  angel  is  not  capriciously  transformed  to 
something  imp-like.  He  sees  it  in  such  wise 
that  he  retains  it  and  can  put  it  on  his  canvas. 
He  has  the  clear-seeing,  the  sure-holding,  gift 
which  alone  is  creative.  It  is  the  same  with  the 
landscape-painter,  the  sculptor,  the  architect. 
Artistic  ability  is  coordinate  with  the  clearness 
and  stapng-power  of  the  imagination. 

More  than  one  painter  has  declared  that 
when  a  sitter  was  no  longer  before  him,  he  could 
still  Uft  his  eyes,  and  see  the  sitter's  image,  and 
go  on  copying  it  as  before.  Often,  too,  the  great 
painter  copies  better  from  some  conception  of 
his  own  brain  than  from  actual  nature.  His 
mind's  eye  is  surer  than  his  body's.  Blake  wrote : 
"  Men  think  they  can  copy  Nature  as  correctly 
as  I  copy  imagination.  This  they  will  find  im- 
possible." And  again,  "  Why  are  copies  of  Na- 
ture incorrect,  while  copies  of  imagination  are 
correct  ?  This  is  manifest  to  all."  Of  course 
this  statement  is  debatable;  but  for  its  philos- 
ophy, and  for  illustrations  alike  of  the  definite 
and  the  sublime,  there  is  nothing  later  than 
Michelangelo  to  which  one  refers  more  prof- 
itably than  to  the  life  and  letters,  and  to  the 
titanic  yet  clear  and  beautiful  designs,  of  the  in- 
spired draftsman  William  Blake.  Did  he  see 
his  visions?  Undeniably.  Did  he  call  them 
into  absolute  existence  ?  Sometimes  I  think  he 
did ;  that  all  soul  is  endowed  with  the  divine 


power  of  creation  in  the  concrete.  If  so,  man 
will  realize  it  in  due  time.  The  poetry  of  Blake, 
prophetic  and  otherwise,  must  be  read  with  dis- 
crimination, for  his  linguistic  execution  was  less 
assured  than  that  of  his  brush  and  graver;  his 
imagination  as  a  painter,  and  his  art-maxims, 
were  of  the  high  order,  but  his  work  as  a  poet 
was  usually  rhapsodical  and  ill-defined. 

But,  as  I  have  said,  the  strength  and  beauty 
of  any  man's  poetry  depend  chiefly  upon  the 
definiteness  of  his  mental  vision.  I  once  knew 
a  poet  of  genuine  gifts  who  did  not  always 
"  beat  his  music  out."  When  I  objected  to  a 
feeble,  indistinct  conception  in  one  of  his  idyls, 
"  Look  you,"  said  he,  "  I  see  that  just  as 
clearly  as  you  do;  it  takes  hold  of  me,  but  I 
have  n't "  (he  chose  to  say)  "  your  knack  of  def- 
inite expression."  To  which  I  rejoined:  "  Not 
so.  If  you  .saw  it  clearly  you  would  express  it, 
for  you  have  a  better  vocabulary  at  your  com- 
mand than  I  possess.  Look  out  of  the  window, 
at  that  building  across  the  street.  Now  let  us 
sit  down,  and  see  who  can  make  the  best  pic- 
ture of  it  in  fifteen  lines  of  blank  verse  —  you  or 
I."  After  a  while  our  trial  was  completed.  His 
verse,  as  I  had  expected,  was  more  faithful  and 
expressive  than  mine,  was  apter  in  word  and  out- 
line. It  reinforced  my  claim.  "There,"  said  I, 
"if  you  saw  the  conception  of  your  other  poem 
as  plainly  as  you  see  that  ordinary  building,  you 
would  convey  it  definitely.  You  would  not  be 
confused  and  obscure,  for  you  have  the  power 
to  express  what  your  mind  really  pictures." 

The  true  poet,  said  Joubert,  "  has  a  mind  full 
of  very  clear  images,  while  ours  is  only  filled 
with  confused  descriptions."  Now,  vagueness 
of  impression  engenders  a  kind  of  excitement 
in  which  a  neophyte  fancies  that  his  gift  is  par- 
ticularly active.  He  mistakes  the  wish  to  create 
for  the  creative  power.  Hence  much  spasmodic 
poetry,  full  of  rhetoric  and  ejaculations,  sound 
and  empty  fury;  hence  the  gasps  which  indi- 
cate that  vision  and  utterance  are  impeded, 
the  contortions  without  the  inspiration.  Hence, 
also,  the  "  fatal  facility,"  the  babble  of  those 
who  write  with  ease  and  magnify  their  ofiice. 
The  impassioned  artist  also  dashes  off" his  work, 
but  his  need  for  absolute  expression  makes  the 
final  execution  as  difficult  as  it  is  noble.  An- 
other class,  equipped  with  taste  and  judgment, 
but  lacking  imagination,  proffer  as  a  substitute 
beautiful  and  recondite  materials  gathered  here 
and  there.  Southey's  work  is  an  example  of  this 
process,  and  that  of  the  popular  and  scholarly 
author  of  "  The  Light  of  Asia  "  is  not  free 
from  it;  indeed,  you  see  it  everywhere  in  the 
verse  of  the  minor  art-school,  and  even  in  Ten- 
nyson's and  Longfellow's  early  poems.  But  the 
chief  vice  of  many  writers  is  obscure  expres- 
sion. Their  seeming  depth  is  often  mere  tur- 
bidness,  though  it  is  true  that  thought  may  be 


664 


THE   NATURE   AND   ELEMENTS   OF  POETRY. 


so  analytic  that  its  expression  must  be  novel 
and  difficult.  Commonplace  thought  and  verse, 
however  clear,  certainly  are  not  greater  than 
Browning's,  but  as  a  rule  the  better  the  poet 
the  more  intelligible.  There  are  no  stronger 
conceptions  than  those  of  the  Book  of  Job,  of 
Isaiah,  Homer,  Shakspere,  nor  are  there  any 
more  patent  in  their  simplicity  to  the  common 
understanding. 

The  imagination  in  literature  is  not  confined 
to  that  which  deals  with  the  weird  or  super- 
human. It  is  true  that, for  convenience'  sake,  the 
selections  classed  in  the  best  of  our  anthologies 
as  "  Poems  of  the  Imagination  "  consist  wholly 
of  verse  relative  to  nymphs,  fairies,  sprites,  ap- 
paritions, and  the  like,  x^lthough  this  justly 
includes  "  Comus  "  and  "  The  Rime  of  the  An- 
cient Mariner,"  there  is  more  fantasy  than  ima- 
gination in  other  pieces, —  in  such  a  piece,  for 
instance,  as  "  The  Culprit  Fay."  No  one  knows 
better  than  the  critical  editor  of  "  The  House- 
hold Book  of  Poetry  "  that  there  is  more  of  the 
high  imaginative  element  in  brief  touches,  such 
as  Wordsworth's 

The  light  that  never  was  on  sea  or  land, 
The  consecration  and  the  poet's  dream, — 

or  Shakspere's 

Light  thickens,  and  the  crow 
Makes  wing  to  the  rooky  wood, — 

or  Bryant's  path  of  the  waterfowl,  through 

The  desert  and  illimitable  air, 
Lone  wandering,  but  not  lost, — 

or  Stoddard's  vanished  city  of  the  waste. 

Gone  like  a  wind  that  blew 
A  thousand  years  ago, — 

and  countless  other  passages  as  effective,  than 
in  the  whole  of  Drake's  "  Culprit  Fay,"  that 
being  eminently  a  poem  of  fancy  from  begin- 
ning to  end. 

But  the  imagination  is  manifold  and  various. 
Among  its  offices,  though  often  not  as  the  most 
poetic,  may  be  counted  invention  and  construc- 
tion. These,  with  characterization,  are  indeed 
the  chief  functions  of  the  novelist.  But  the  epic 
narratives  have  been  each  a  growth,  not  a  sud- 
den formation,  and  the  effective  plots  of  the 
grand  dramas  —  of  Shakspere's,  for  example 
—  have  mostly  been  found  and  utilized,  rather 
than  newly  invented.  "The  Princess,"  "Aurora 
Leigh,"  and  "  Lucile"  are  almost  the  only  suc- 
cessful modem  instances  of  metrical  tale-inven- 
tion, and  the  last  two  are  really  novels  in  verse. 
The  epic  and  dramatic  poets  give  imagination 
play  in  depicting  the  event;  the  former,  as  Goe- 
the writes  to  Schiller,  conceiving  it  "  as  belong- 
ing completely  to  the  past,"  and  the  latter  "  as 


belonging  completely  to  the  present."  But 
neither  has  occasion  to  originate  his  story;  his 
concern  is  with  its  ideal  reconstruction. 

The  imagination,  however,  is  purely  creative 
in  the  work  to  which  I  have  just  said  that  it  is 
not  restricted,  viz.,  the  conception  of  beings  not 
drawn  from  experience,  to  whom  it  alone  can 
give  an  existence  that  is  wondrous  yet  seem- 
ingly not  out  of  nature.  Such  are  the  forms 
which  Shakspere  called  "  from  the  vasty  deep  " : 
the  Weird  Sisters,  the  greenwood  sprites,  the 
haunted-island  progeny  of  earth  and  air.  Such 
are  those  quite  differing  creations,  Goethe's 
mocking  fiend  and  the  IVIephistophilis  of  Mar- 
lowe's "  Faustus."  Milton's  Satan,  the  grand- 
est of  imaginary  personages,  does  not  seem  to 
belong  to  the  supramortal  class;  he  is  the  more 
sublime  because,  though  scaling  heaven  and 
defying  the  Almighty,  he  is  so  unmistakably 
human.  Shakspere  is  not  strong  in  the  imagi- 
native construction  of  many  of  his  plays,  at  least 
not  in  the  artistic  sense, —  with  respect  to  that 
the  "  Qildipus  at  Colonos"  is  a  masterpiece, — 
but  he  very  safely  left  them  to  construct  them- 
selves. In  the  conception  of  human  characters, 
and  of  their  thoughts  and  feelings,  he  is  still 
sovereign  of  imagination's  world.  In  modern 
times  the  halls  of  Wonder  have  been  trodden  by 
Blake  and  Coleridge  and  Rossetti.  The  mar- 
velous "  Rime,"  with  its  ghostly  crew,  its  spectral 
seas,  its  transformation  of  the  elements,  is  pure 
and  high-sustained  imagination.  In  "  Chris- 
tabel "  both  the  terror  and  the  loveliness  are 
haunting.  That  beauteous  fragment  was  so 
potent  with  the  romanticists  that  Scott  formed 
his  lyrical  method,  that  of  "  The  Lay  of  the  Last 
Minstrel,"  upon  it,  and  Byron  quickly  yielded 
to  its  spell.  But  Coleridge's  creative  mood  was 
asbriefasitwas  enrapturing.  From  his  twenty- 
sixth  to  his  twenty-eighth  year  he  blazed  out 
hke  Tycho  Brahe's  star,  then  sank  his  hght 
in  metaphysics,  exhibiting  httle  thenceforth  of 
worth  to  literature  except  a  criticism  of  poets 
and  dramatists  that  in  its  way  was  luminous  and 
constructive. 

The  poet  often  conveys  a  whole  picture  by 
a  single  imaginative  touch.  A  desert  scene  by 
Gerome  would  give  us  little  more  than  we  con- 
ceive from  Landor's  suggestive  detail  — 

And  hoofless  camels  in  long  single  line 
Stalk  slow,  with  foreheads  level  to  the  sky. 

This  force  of  suggestion  is  nevertheless  highly 
effective  in  painting:  as  where  the  shadow  of  the 
cross  implies  the  crucifixion,  or  where  the  cloud- 
phantoms  seen  by  Dore's  "Wandering  Jew" 
exhibit  it;  and  as  when,  in  the  same  artist's  de- 
signs for  Don  Quixote,  we  see  visions  with  the 
mad  knight's  eyes.  Of  a  kindred  nature  is  the 
prevision,  the  event  forestalled,  of  a  single  word 


IMAGINATION. 


66s 


or  phrase.  Leigh  Hunt  cited  the  Hne  from 
Keats's  "  Isabella,"  "  So  the  two  brothers  and 
their  murdered  man,"  —  the  victim,  then  jour- 
neying with  his  future  slayers,  being  already 
dead  in  their  intention.  A  striking  instance  of 
the  swift-flashing  imagination  is  in  a  stanza 
from  Stoddard's  Horatian  ode  upon  the  funer- 
al of  Lincoln  : 

The  time,  the  place,  the  stealing  shape, 
The  coward  shot,  the  swift  escape. 
The  wife,  the  widow^s  scream. 

What  I  may  call  the  constant,  the  habitual^ 
imagination  of  a  true  poet  is  shown  by  his  in- 
stinct for  words  —  those  keys  which  all  may 
clatter,  and  which  yield  their  music  to  so  i^v^. 
He  finds  the  inevitable  word  or  phrase,  unfound 
before,  and  it  becomes  classical  in  a  moment. 
The  power  of  words  and  the  gift  of  their  selec- 
tion are  uncomprehended  by  writers  who  have 
all  trite  and  hackneyed  phrases  at  the  pen's 
end.  The  imagination  begets  original  diction, 
suggestive  epithets,  verbs  implying  extended 
scenes  and  events,  phrases  which  are  a  delight 
and  which,  as  we  say,  speak  volumes,  single 
notes  which  establish  the  dominant  tone. 

This  kind  of  felicity  makes  an  excerpt  from 
Shakspere  unmistakable.  Milton's  diction  ri- 
vals that  of  ^'Eschylus,  though  nothing  can 
outrank  the  Grecian's  avfjp'.6,uov  YeXaoijict — the 
innumerous  laughter  of  his  ocean  waves.  But 
recall  Milton's  "  wandering  moon  "  (borrowed, 
haply,  from  the  Latin),  and  his  "  wilderness 
of  sweets  " ;  and  such  phrases  as  "  dim,  reli- 
gious light,"  "  fatal  and  perfidious  bark,"  "  hide 
their  diminished  heads,"  "  the  least-erected 
spirit  that  fell,"  "  barbaric  pearl  and  gold," 
"  imparadised  in  one  another's  arms,"  "  rose 
like  an  exhalation,"  "  such  sweet  compulsion 
doth  in  music  lie " ;  and  his  fancies  of  the 
daisies'  ''quaint  enameled  eyes,"  and  of  "dan- 
cing in  the  chequered  shade  " ;  and  number- 
less similar  beauties  that  we  term  Miltonic. 
After  Shakspere  and  Milton,  Keats  stands  first 
in  respect  of  imaginative  diction.  His  appel- 
latives of  the  Grecian  Urn,  "  Cold  pastoral," 
and  "  Thou  foster-child  of  silence  and  slow 
time,"  are  in  evidence.  "  The  music  yearning 
like  a  god  in  pain,"  and 

Music's  golden  tongue 
Flattered  to  tears  this  aged  man  and  poor, 

excel  even  Milton's  "  forget  thyself  to  marble." 
What  a  charm  in  his  "  darkling  I  listen,"  and 
his  thought  of  Ruth  "  in  tears  amid  the  alien 
com  "  !  Shelley's  diction  is  less  sure  and  eclec- 
tic, yet  sometimes  his  expression,  hke  his  own 
skylark,  is  "  an  embodied  joy."  Byron's  im- 
aginative language  is  more  rhetorical,  but 
none  will  forget  his  "  haunted,  holy  ground," 
Vol.  XLIV.— 87. 


"  Death's  prophetic  ear,"  "  the  quiet  of  a  lov- 
ing eye  "  (which  is  like  Wordsworth,  and  again 
like  Landor's  phrase  on  Milton  —  "the  Sab- 
bath of  his  mind  ").  None  would  forego  "  the 
blue  rushing  of  the  arrowy  Rhone,"  or  "  the 
dead  but  sceptred  sovereigns,  who  still  rule  our 
spirits  from  their  urns,"  or  such  a  combination 
of  imagination  and  feeling  as  this  : 

I  turned  from  all  she  brought  to  those  she  could 
not  bring. 

Coleridge's  "  myriad-minded  Shakspere  "  is 
enough  to  show  his  mastery  of  words.  A  con- 
juring quahty  like  that  of  the  voices  heard  by 
Kubla  Khan, 

Ancestral  voices  prophesying  war, 

lurks  in  the  imaginative  lines  of  our  Southern 
lyrist.  Boner,  upon  the  cottage  at  Fordham, 
which  aver  of  Poe,  that 

Here  in  the  sobbing  showers 
Of  dark  autumnal  hours 
He  heard  suspected  powers 

Shriek  through  the  stormy  wood. 

Tennyson's  words  often  seem  too  laboriously 
and  exquisitely  chosen.  But  that  was  a  good 
moment  when,  in  his  early  poem  of  "  CEnone," 
he  pictured  her  as  wandering 

Forlorn  of  Paris,  once  her  playmate  on  the  hills. 

Amongst  Americans,  Emerson  has  been  the 
chief  master  of  words  and  phrases.  Who  save 
he  could  enveil  us  in  "  the  tumultuous  privacy" 
of  the  snow-storm  ?  Lowell  has  great  verbal 
felicity.  It  was  manifest  even  in  the  early  pe- 
riod when  he  apostrophized  the  dandelion, — 
"  Dear  common  flower,"  "  Thou  art  my  tropics 
and  mine  Italy,"  —  and  told  us  of  its  "harmless 
gold."  But  I  have  cited  a  sufficient  number 
of  these  well-wonted  instances.  Entering  the 
amazing  treasure-house  of  English  song,  one 
must  remember  the  fate  of  the  trespasser  within 
the  enchanted  grotto  of  the  "  Gesta  Romano- 
rum,"  where  rubies,  sapphires,  diamonds,  lay  in 
flashing  heaps  on  every  side.  When  he  essayed 
to  fill  his  wallet  with  them,  the  spell  was  broken, 
the  arrow  whizzed,  and  he  met  the  doom  al- 
lotted to  pickers  and  stealers. 

With  respect  to  configuration,  the  antique 
genius,  in  literature  as  in  art,  was  clear  and 
assured.  It  imagined  plainly,  and  drew  firm 
outlines.  But  the  Acts  and  Scenes  of  our  Eng- 
lish dramatists  were  often  shapeless ;  their 
schemes  were  full  of  by-play  and  plot  within 
plot;  in  fine,  their  constructive  faculty  showed 
the  caprice  of  rich  imaginations  that  disdained 
control.  Shakspere,  alone  of  all,  never  fails  to 
justify  Leigh  Hunt's  maxim  that,  in  treating 


666 


THE   NATURE  AND   ELEMENTS   OF  POETRY. 


of  the  unusual,  "  one  must  be  true  to  the  super- 
natural itself."  When  the  French  and  Ger- 
man romanticists  broke  loose  from  the  classic 
unities,  they,  too,  at  first  went  wild.  Again,  the 
antique  conceptions  are  as  sensuous,  beside  the 
modern,  as  the  Olympian  hierarchy  compared 
with  the  spiritual  godhood  to  which  Christen- 
dom has  consecrated  its  ideals.  But  whether 
pagan  or  Christian,  all  the  supernaturalism  of 
the  dark  and  mystic  North  has  a  more  awe- 
inspiring  quality  than  that  -of  sunlit  Italy  and 
Greece.  There  are  weird  beings  in  the  classic 
mythology,  but  its  Fates  and  Furies  are  less 
spectral  than  the  Valkyries  and  the  prophetic 
Sisters  of  the  blasted  heath.  Even  in  the  medie- 
val under- world  of  Dante,  the  damned  and  their 
tormentors  are  substantially  and  materially  pre- 
sented, with  a  few  exceptions,  like  the  lovers 
of  Rimini  —  the 

Unhappy  pair 
That  float  in  hell's  murk  air. 

Having,  then,  laid  stress  upon  the  excellence 
of  clear  vision,  let  me  add  that  imaginative  ge- 
nius can  force  us  to  recognize  the  wonder,  ter- 
ror, and  sublimity  of  the  Vague.  Through  its 
suggested  power  we  are  withdrawn  from  the 
firm-set  world,  and  feel  what  it  is 

To  be  a  mortal 
And  seek  the  things  beyond  mortality. 

What  lies  beyond,  in  the  terra  incognita  from 
which  we  are  barred  as  from  the  polar  spaces 
guarded  by  arctic  and  antarctic  barriers,  can 
onlybe  suggested  by  formlessness, extension, im- 
posing shadow,  and  phantasmal  light.  The  early 
Hebraic  expression  of  its  mysteries  will  never 
be  surpassed.  Nothing  in  even  the  culminating 
vision  of  the  Apocalypse  so  takes  hold  of  us  as 
the  ancient  words  of  Eliphaz,  in  the  Book  of 
Job,  describing  the  fear  that  came  upon  him  in 
the  night,  when  deep  sleep  falleth  on  man : 

Then  a  spirit  passed  before  my  face ;  the  hair 
of  my  flesh  stood  up.  It  stood  still,  but  I  could 
not  discern  the  form  thereof:  an  image  was  be- 
fore mine  eyes,  there  was  silence,  and  I  heard  a 
voice,  saying:  "Shall  mortal  man  be  more  just 
than  God  ?  Shall  a  man  be  more  pure  than  his 
Maker?" 

English  poetry  doubly  inherits  the  sublimity 
of  the  vague,  from  its  C3riental  and  its  Gothic 
strains.  Yet  it  has  produced  few  images  more 
striking  than  that  one  which  hfts  the  "  Lusiad," 
by  Camoens,  above  the  level  of  a  perfunctory 
epic.  Vasco  da  Gama  and  his  crew  are  strug- 
gling to  pass  the  southern  point  of  Africa  into 
the  Indian  seas  beyond.  The  Spirit  of  the  Cape 
of  Tempests,  mantled  in  blackness  of  cloud,  girt 
about  with  lightning  and  storm,  towers  skyward 
from  the  billows,  portentous,  awful,  vague,  and 


with  an  unearthly  voice  of  menace  warns  the 
voyagers  back.  I  have  said  that  the  grandest 
of  English  supernatural  creations  is  Milton's 
Satan.  No  other  personage  has  at  once  such 
magnitude  and  definiteness  of  outhne  as  that 
sublime,  defiant  archangel,  whether  in  action 
or  in  repose.  Milton,  like  Dante,  has  to  do 
with  the  unknown  world.  The  Florentine  bard 
soars  at  last  within  the  effulgence  of  "  the  eter- 
nal, coetemal  beam."  Milton's  imagination 
broods  "in  the  wide  womb  of  uncreated  night." 
We  enter  that "  palpable  obscure,"  where  there 
is  "no  light,  but  rather  darkness  visible,"  and 
where  lurk  many  a  "grisly  terror"  and  "exe- 
crable shape."  But  the  genii  of  wonder  and 
terror  are  the  familiars  of  a  long  succession  of 
our  English  poets.  Coleridge,  who  so  had  them 
at  his  own  call,  knew  well  their  signs  and  work; 
as  when  he  pointed  a  sure  finger  to  Drayton's 
etching  of  the  trees  which 

As  for  revenge  to  heaven  each  held  a  withered 
hand. 

Science  drives  specter  after  specter  from  its 
path,  but  the  rule  still  holds  —  omne  ignotmn pro 
viagnifico,  and  a  vaster  unknown,  a  more  im- 
pressive vague,  still  deepens  and  looms  before. 
A  peculiarly  imaginative  sense  of  the  beau- 
tiful, also,  is  conveyed  at  times  by  an  exquisite 
formlessness  of  outline.  I  asked  the  late  Mr. 
Grant  White  what  he  thought  of  a  certain  pic- 
ture by  Inness,  and  he  rephed  that  it  seemed 
to  be  "  painted  by  a  blind  poet."  But  no  In- 
ness, Fuller,  Corot,  Rousseau,  not  even  Tur- 
ner, nor  the  broad,  luminous  spaces  of  Homer 
Martin,  ever  excelled  the  magic  of  the  change- 
ful blending  conceptions  of  Shelley,  so  aptly 
termed  the  poet  of  Cloudland.  The  feehng  of 
his  lyrical  passages  is  all  his  own.  How  does 
it  justify  itself  and  so  hold  us  in  thrall  ?  Yield 
to  it,  and  if  there  is  anything  sensitive  in  your 
mold  you  are  hypnotized,  as  if  in  truth  gazing 
heavenward  and  fixing  your  eyes  upon  a  beau- 
teous and  protean  cloud ;  fascinated  by  its  sil- 
very shapelessness,  its  depth,  its  vistas,  its  iri- 
descence and  gloom.  Listen,  and  the  cloud  is 
vocal  with  a  music  not  to  be  defined.  There  is 
no  appeal  to  the  intellect ;  the  mind  seeks  not 
for  a  meaning ;  the  cloud  floats  ever  on  ;  the 
music  is  changeful,  ceaseless,  and  uncloying. 
Their  plumed  invoker  has  become  our  type  of 
the  pure  spirit  of  song,  almost  sexless,  quite  re- 
moved at  times  from  earth  and  the  carnal  pas- 
sions. Such  a  poet  could  never  be  a  sensualist. 
"  Brave  translunary  things  "  are  to  him  the  true 
realities;  he  is,  indeed,  a  creature  of  air  and 
hght.  "The  Witch  of  Atlas,"  an  artistic  caprice, is 
a  work  of  imagination,  though  as  transparent  as 
the  moonbeams  and  as  unconscious  of  warmth 
and  cold.  Mary  Shelley  objected  to  it  on  the 
score  that  it  had  no  human  interest.    It  cer- 


IMAGINATION. 


667 


tainly  is  a  kind  of  aer  potabilis,  a  wine  that 
lacks  body;  it  violates  Goethe's  dictum,  to  wit: 
"Two  things  are  required  of  the  poet  and  the 
artist,  that  he  should  rise  above  reality  and  yet 
remain  within  the  sphere  of  the  sensuous."  But 
there  is  always  a  law  above  law  for  genius,  and 
all  things  are  possible  to  it  —  even  the  entrance 
to  a  realm  not  ordered  in  life  and  emotion  ac- 
cording to  the  conditions  of  this  palpable  warm 
planet  to  which  our  feet  are  bound. 

As  in  nature,  so  in  art,  that  which  relatively 
to  ourselves  is  large  and  imposing  has  a  cor- 
responding eftect  upon  the  mind.  Magnitude 
is  not  to  be  disdained  as  an  imaginative  factor. 
An  heroic  masterpiece  of  Angelo's  has  this  ad- 
vantage at  the  start  over  some  elaborate  carv- 
ing by  CeUini.  Landor  says  that  "  a  throne  is 
not  built  of  birds'-nests,  nor  do  a  thousand 
reeds  make  a  trumpet."  Of  course,  if  dimen- 
sion is  to  be  the  essential  test,  we  are  lost. 
Every  one  feels  himself  to  be  greater  than  a 
mountain,  than  the  ocean,  even  than  Chaos ; 
yet  an  imaginative  observer  views  the  mea- 
sureless nebula  with  awe,  conceiving  a  universe 
of  systems,  of  worlds  tenanted  by  conscious 
beings,  which  is  to  be  evolved  from  that  lam- 
bent, ambient  star-dust. 

Certain  it  is  that  when  we  seek  the  other  ex- 
treme, the  province  of  the  microscopic,  Fancy, 
the  elf-child  of  Imagination,  sports  within  her 
own  minute  and  capricious  realm.  Her  land 
is  that  of  whims  and  conceits,  of  mock  asso- 
ciations, of  Midsummer  Nights'  Dreams.  She 
has  her  own  epithets  for  its  denizens,  for  the 
"  green  little  vaulter,"  the  "  yellow-breeched 
philosopher,"  the  "  animated  torrid  zone,"  of 
her  dainty  minstrelsy.  Poets  of  imagination 
are  poets  of  fancy  when  they  choose.  Hester 
Prynne  was  ever  attended  by  her  tricksy  Pearl. 
But  many  is  the  poet  of  fancy  who  never  en- 
ters the  courts  of  imagination  —  a  joyous  faun 
indeed,  and  wanting  nothing  but  a  soul. 

A  large  utterance,  such  as  that  which  Keats 
bestowed  upon  the  early  gods,  is  the  instinctive 
voice  of  the  imagination  nobly  roused  and  con- 
cerned with  an  heroic  theme.  There  are  few 
better  illustrations  of  this  than  the  cadences 
and  diction  of  "  Hyperion,"  a  torso  equal  to 
the  finished  work  of  any  other  English  poet 
after  Shakspere  and  Milton;  perhaps  even 
greater  because  a  torso,  for  the  construction 
of  its  fable  is  not  signiticant,  and  when  Keats 
produced  his  effect,  he  ended  the  poem  as 
Coleridge  ended  "  Christabel."  All  qualities 
which  I  have  thus  far  termed  imaginative  con- 
tribute to  the  majesty  of  its  overture  : 

Deep  in  the  shady  sadness  of  a  vale 
Far  sunken  from  the  healthy  breath  of  morn, 
Far  from  the  fiery  noon,  and  eve's  one  star, 
Sat  grey-hair'd  Saturn,  quiet  as  a  stone. 
Still  as  the  silence  round  about  his  lair. 


Forest  on  forest  hung  about  his  head 

Like  cloud  on  cloud.    No  stir  of  air  was  there, — 

Not  so  much  life  as  on  a  summer's  day 

Robs  not  one  light  seed  from  the  feather'd  grass, 

But  where  the  dead  leaf  fell,  there  did  it  rest. 

A  stream  went  voiceless  by,  still  deaden'd  more 

By  reason  of  his  fallen  divinity 

Spreading  a  shade  :   the  Naiad  'mid  her  reeds 

Press'd  her  cold  finger  closer  to  her  lips. 

At  the  outset  of  English  poetry,  Chaucer's 
imagination  is  sane,  clear-sighted,  wholesome 
with  open-air  feeling  and  truth  to  life.  Spenser 
is  the  poet's  poet  chiefly  as  an  artist.  The  al- 
legory of"  The  Faerie  Queene  "  is  not  like  that 
of  Dante,  forged  at  white  heat,  but  the  sym- 
bohsm  of  a  courtier  and  euphuist  who  felt  its 
unreality.  But  all  in  all,  the  Elizabethan  pe- 
riod displays  the  English  imagination  at  full 
height.  Marlowe  and  Webster,  tor  example, 
give  out  fitful  but  imaginative  light  which  at 
times  is  of  kindred  splendor  with  Shakspere's 
steadfast  beam.  Webster's  '•  Duchess  of  Malfi  " 
teaches  both  the  triumphs  and  the  dangers  of 
the  dramatic  fury.  The  construction  runs  riot ; 
certain  characters  are  powerfully  conceived, 
others  are  wild  figments  of  the  brain.  It  is  full 
of  most  fantastic  speech  and  action ;  yet  the 
tragedv,  the  passion,  the  felicitous  language 
and  imagery  of  various  scenes,  are  nothing  less 
than  Shaksperean.  To  comprehend  rightly  the 
good  and  bad  qualities  of  this  play  is  to  have 
gained  a  liberal  education  in  poetic  criticism. 

Now  take  a  collection  of  English  verse  — 
and  there  is  no  poetry  more  various  and  in- 
clusive —  take,  let  us  say.  Ward's  "  English 
Poets,"  and  you  will  find  that  the  generations 
after  Shakspere  are  not  over-imaginative  until 
you  approach  the  nineteenth  century.  From 
Jonson  to  the  Georgian  School  there  is  no  gen- 
eral efflux  of  visionary  power.  The  lofty  Milton 
and  a  few  minor  lights  —  Dryden,  Collins, 
Chatterton  —  shine  at  intervals  between.  Pre- 
cisely the  most  unimaginative  period  is  that 
covered  by  Volume  III  and  entitled  "  From 
Addison  to  Blake."  We  have  tender  feeling  and 
true  in  Goldsmith  and  Gray.  There  is  no  pas- 
sion, no  illumination,  until  you  reach  Burns  and 
his  immediate  successors.  Then  imagination 
leaped  again  to  life,  springing  chiefly  from  sub- 
jective emotion,  as  among  the  Elizabethans  it 
sprang  from  young  adventure,  from  discovery 
and  renown  of  arms,  above  all  from  the  objec- 
tive study  of  the  types  and  conduct  of  mankind. 
If  another  century  shall  add  a  third  imaginative 
luster  to  the  poetry  of  our  tongue, —  enkindled, 
perchance,  by  the  flame  of  a  more  splendid 
order  of  discovery,  even  now  so  exalting, —  it 
will  have  done  its  equal  share. 

The  Mercury  and  Iris  of  this  heavenly  power 
are  comparison  and  association,  whose  light 


66S 


THE  NATURE  AND   ELEMENTS   OF  POETRY. 


wings  flash  unceasingly.  Look  at  Wordsworth's 
similes.  He  took  from  nature  her  primitive 
symbolism.  Consider  his  ^/.fWd-w/^?/ quality:  I 
use  the  word  as  did  the  ancients  in  their  large, 
untutored  view  of  things  —  as  Prospero  uses  it, 
ere  laying  down  his  staff: 

My  Ariel, — chick, — 
That  is  thy  charge:  then  to  the  elements 
Be  free,  and  fare  thou  well  ! 

In  Wordsworth's  mind  nature  is  so  absolute 
that  her  skies  and  mountains  are  just  as  plainly 
imaged  as  in  the  sheen  of  Derwentwater;  and 
thence  they  passed  into  his  verse.  He  wanders. 

Lonely  as  a  cloud 
That  floats  on  high  o'er  vales  and  hills. 

He  says  of  Milton, 

Thy  soul  was  like  a  star,  and  dwelt  apart. 

A  primeval  sorrow,  a  cosmic  pain,  is  in  the 
expression  of  his  dead  love's  reunion  with  the 
elements : 

No  motion  has  she  now,  no  force; 

She  neither  hears  nor  sees. 
Rolled  round  in  earth's  diurnal  course, 

With  rocks,  and  stones,  and  trees. 

The  souls  of  the  Hebrew  bards,  inheritors  of 
pastoral  memories,  ever  consorted  with  the  ele- 
ments, invoking  the  "heavens  of  heavens,"  "  the 
waters  that  be  above  the  heavens,"  "  fire  and 
hail ;  snow,  and  vapor:  stormy  wind  fulfilling 
His  word."  Of  the  Greeks,^schylus  is  more  ele- 
mental than  Pindar,  even  than  Homer.  Among 
our  moderns,  a  kindred  quality  strengthened 
the  imaginations  of  Byron  and  Shelley;  Swin- 
burne too,  whom  at  his  best  the  Hebraic  feeling 
and  the  Grecian  sway  by  turns,  is  most  self- 
forgetful  and  exalted  when  giving  it  full  play. 
I  point  you  to  the  fact  that  some  of  our  Amer- 
ican poets,  if  not  conspicuous  thus  far  for  dra- 
matic power,  have  been  gifted  —  as  seems  fitdng 
in  respect  to  their  environment  —  with  a  dis- 
tinct share  of  this  elemental  imagination.  It  is 
the  strength  of  Bryant's  genius:  the  one  secret, 
if  you  reflect  upon  it,  of  the  still  abiding  fame 
of  that  austere  and  revered  minstrel.  His  soul, 
too,  dwelt  apart,  but  hke  the  mountain-peak 
that  looks  over  forest,  plain,  and  ocean,  and 
confabulates  with  winds  and  clouds.  I  am  not 
sure  but  that  his  elemental  feeling  is  more  im- 
pressive than  Wordsworth's,  from  its  almost  pre- 
adamite  simplicity.  It  is  often  said  that  Bryant's 
loftiest  mood  came  and  went  with  "  Thanatop- 
sis."  This  was  not  so;  though  it  was  for  long 
periods  in  abeyance.  "  The  Flood  of  Years," 
written  sixty-five  years  later  than  "  Thanatop- 
sis"  and  when  the  bard  was  eighty-two,  has 
the  characteristic  and  an  even  more  sustained 
majesty  of  thought  and  diction. 


It  is  easy  to  comprehend  why  the  father  of 
American  song  should  be  held  in  honor  by 
poets  as  different  as  Richard  Henry  Stoddard 
and  Walt  Whitman.  These  men  have  possessed 
one  quality  in  common.  Stoddard's  random 
and  Ughter  lyrics  are  familiar  to  magazine  read- 
ers, with  whom  the  larger  eftbrts  of  a  poet  are  not 
greatly  in  demand.  But  I  commend  those  who 
care  for  high  and  lasting  qualities  to  an  ac- 
quaintance with  his  blank  verse,  and  with  sus- 
tained lyrics  like  the  odes  on  Shakspere  and 
Bryant  and  Washington,  which  resemble  his 
blank  verse  both  in  artistic  perfection  and  in 
imagination  excelled  by  no  contemporary  poet. 
Whitman's  genius  is  prodigal  and  often  so  ele- 
mental, whether  dwelling  upon  his  types  of  the 
American  people,  or  upon  nature  animate  and 
inanimate  in  his  New  \Vorld,  or  upon  mysteries 
of  science  and  the  future,  that  it  at  times  moves 
one  to  forego,  as  passing  and  inessential,  any 
demur  to  his  matter  or  manner.  There  is  no  gain- 
saying the  power  of  his  imagination  —  a  faculty 
which  he  indulged,  having  certainly  carried  out 
that  early  determination  to  loaf,  and  invite  his 
soul.  His  highest  mood  is  even  more  than  ele- 
mental ;  it  is  cosmic.  In  almost  the  latest  poem 
of  this  old  bard,  addressed  "  To  the  Sunset 
Breeze  "  (one  fancies  him  sitting,  like  Borrow's 
bUnd  gipsy,  where  he  can  feel  the  wind  from 
the  heath),  he  thus  expressed  it : 

I  feel  the  sky,  the  prairies  vast  —  I  feel  the  mighty 

northern  lakes; 
I  feel  the  ocean  and  the  forest  —  somehow  I  feel 

the  globe  itself  swift-swimining  in  space. 

Lanier  is  another  of  the  American  poets 
distinguished  by  imaginative  genius.  In  his 
case  this  became  more  and  more  impressible 
by  the  sense  of  elemental  nature,  and  perhaps 
more  subtly  alert  to  the  infinite  variety  within 
the  unities  of  her  primary  forms.  Mrs.  Stod- 
dard's poetry,  as  yet  uncollected,  is  imagina- 
tive and  original,  the  utterance  of  moods  that 
are  only  too  infrequent.  The  same  may  be  said 
of  a  few  poems  by  Dr.  Parsons,  from  whom  we 
have  that  finest  of  American  lyrics,  the  lines 
"  On  a  Bust  of  Dante."  There  is  a  nobly  ele- 
mental strain  in  Taylor's  "Prince  Deukalion" 
and  "  The  Masque  of  the  Gods."  I  could  name 
several  of  our  younger  poets,  men  and  women, 
and  a  number  of  their  English  compeers,  whose 
work  displays  imaginative  qualities,  were  it  not 
beyond  my  province.  But  many  of  the  new- 
comers —  relatively  more,  perhaps,  than  in  for- 
mer divisions  of  this  century  —  seem  restricted 
to  the  neat-trimmed  playgrounds  of  fancy  and 
device  ;  they  deck  themselves  like  pages,  rarely 
venturing  from  the  palace  close  into  the  stately 
Forest  of  Dreams.  If  one  should  stray  down  a 
gloaming  vista,  and  be  aided  by  the  powers 
therein  to  chance  for  once  upon  some  fine  con- 


IMAGINATION. 


669 


ception,  I  fancy  him  recoiling  from  his  own 
imagining  as  from  the  shadow  of  a  hon. 

Here,  then,  after  the  merest  ghmpse  of  its 
aureole,  we  turn  away  from  the  creative  imagi- 
nation :  a  spirit  that  attends  the  poet  unbid- 
den, if  at  all,  and  compensates  him  for  neglect 
and  sorrow  by  giving  him  the  freedom  of  a 
chme  not  recked  of  by  the  proud  and  mighty, 
and  a  spiritual  wealth  "  beyond  the  dreams  of 
avarice."  Not  all  the  armor  and  curios  and  dra- 
pery of  a  Sybaritic  studio  can  make  a  painter; 
no  esthetic  mummer}',  no  mastery  of  graceful 
rh)'me  and  measure,  can  of  themselves  furnish 
forth  a  poet.  Go  rather  to  Barbizon,  and  see 
what  pathetic  truth  and  beauty  dwell  within 
the  humble  rooms  of  Millet's  cottage;  go  to 
Ayr,  and  find  the  muse's  darling  beneath  a  straw- 
thatched  roof:  think  what  feudal  glories  came 
to  Chatterton  in  his  garret,  what  thoughts  of 
fair  marble  shapes,  of  casements  "  innumerable 
of  stains  and  splendid  dyes,"  lighted  up  for  Keats 
his  borough  lodgings.  Dore  was  asked,  at  the 
flood-tide  of  his  good  fortune,  why  he  did  not 
buy  or  build  a  chateau.  "  Let  my  patrons  do 
that,"  he  said.  "  Why  should  I,  who  have  no 
need  of  it  ?  My  chateau  is  here,  behind  mv 
forehead."  He  who  owns  the  wings  of  imagi- 
nation shudders  on  no  height;  he  is  above  fate 
and  chance.  Its  power  of  vision  makes  him 
greater  still,  for  he  sees  and  illuminates  every- 
day life  and  common  things.  Its  creative  gift 
is  divine ;  and  I  can  well  believe  the  storj-  told 
of  the  greatest  and  still  living  Victorian  poet, 
that  once,  in  his  college  daj'S,  he  looked  deep 
and  earnestly  into  the  subaqueous  life  of  a 
Stream  near  Cambridge,  and  was  heard  to  say, 
"  What  an  imagination  God  has  ! "  Certainly 
without  it  was  not  anything  made  that  was 
made,  either  by  the  Creator,  or  by  those  cre- 
ated in  his  likeness.  I  say  "  created,"  but  there 
are  times  when  we  think  upon  the  amazing 
beauty,  the  complexity,  the  power  and  endur- 
ance, of  the  works  of  human  hands — such  as, 
for  example,  some  of  the  latest  architectural 
decorations  illuminated  by  the  electric  light 
A\ath  splendor  never  conceived  of  even  by  an 
ancestral  rhapsodist  in  his  dreams  of  the  New 
Jerusalem — there  are  moments  when  results 
of  this  sort,  suggesting  the  greater  possible  re- 
sults of  future  artistic  and  scientific  effort,  give 
the  theory  of  divinity  as  absolutely  immanent  in 
man  a  proud  significance.  We  then  compre- 
hend the  full  purport  of  the  Genesidc  record  — 
"  Ye  shall  be  as  gods."  The  words  of  the  Psalm- 
ist have  a  startling  verity — "  I  have  said,  Ye  are 
gods;  and  all  of  you  are  children  of  the  Most 
High."  We  remember  that  one  who  declared 
himself  the  direct  offspring  and  \txy  portion  of 


the  Unknown  Power,  and  in  evidence  stood 
upon  his  works  alone,  repeated  these  words  — 
by  inference  recognizing  a  share  of  Deity  within 
each  child  of  earth.  The  share  allotted  to  such 
a  mold  as  Shakspere's  evoked  Hartley  Cole- 
ridge's declaration: 

The  soul  of  man  is  larger  than  the  sky, 

Deeper  than  ocean  —  or  the  abysmal  dark 

Of  the  unfathomed  centre.   .   .   . 

So  in  the  compass  of  the  single  mind 

The  seeds  and  pregnant  forms  in  essence  lie 

That  make  all  worlds. 

But  what  was  the  old  notion  of  the  act  of 
di\-ine  creation  ?  That  which  reduced  divin- 
ity to  the  sprite  of  folk-lore,  who  by  a  word,  a 
spell,  or  the  wave  of  a  wand,  e\-oked  a  city,  a 
person,  an  army,  out  of  the  void.  The  Deitv 
whom  we  adore  in  our  generation  has  taken  us 
into  his  workshop.  We  see  that  he  creates,  as 
we  construct,  slowly  and  patientl)-,  through 
ages  and  by  evolution,  one  step  leading  to  the 
next.  I  reassert,  then,  that  "  as  far  as  the  poet, 
the  artist,  is  creative,  he  becomes  a  sharer  of 
the  divine  imagination  and  power,  and  even  of 
the  divine  responsibility."  And  I  now  find  this 
assertion  so  well  supported,  that  I  cannot  for- 
bear quoting  from  a  "  Midsummer  Meditation" 
in  a  recent  volume  of  American  poetry  : 

Brave  conqueror  of  dull  mortality  ! 

Look  up  and  be  a  part  of  all  thou  see'st;  — 

Ocean  and  earth  and  miracle  of  sky, 

All  that  thou  see'st  thou  art,  and  without  thee 

Were  nothing.     Thou,  a  god,  dost  recreate 

The  whole;   breathing  thy  soul  on  all,  till  all 

Is  one  wide  world  made  perfect  at  thy  touch. 

And  know  that  thou,  who  darest  a  world  create. 

Art  one  with  the  Almighty,  son  to  sire  — 

Of  his  eternity  a  quenchless  spark. 

We  have  seen  that  with  the  poet  imagination 
is  the  essential  key  to  expression.  The  other 
thing  of  most  worth  is  that  which  moves  him 
to  expression,  the  passion  of  his  heart  and  soul. 
I  close,  therefore,  by  saying  that  without  either 
of  these  elements  we  can  have  poetr\'  which 
may  seem  to  you  tender,  animating,  enjoyable, 
and  of  value  in  its  way,  but  without  imagina- 
tion there  can  be  no  poetry  which  is  great.  Pos- 
sibly we  can  have  great  poetry  which  is  devoid 
of  passion,  but  great  only  through  its  tranquil- 
izing  power,  through  tones  that  calm  and 
strengthen,  yet  do  not  exalt  and  thrill.  Such 
is  not  the  poetry  which  stirs  one  to  make  an 
avowal  like  Sir  Philip  Sidney's: 

I  never  heard  the  old  song  of  Percy  and  Doug- 
las, that  I  found  not  my  heart  moved  more  than 
with  a  trumpet. 

Edmund  Clarence  Stedman. 


OUT    OF    POMPEII. 

The  body  of  a  young  girl  was  found  in  Pompeii,  lying  face  downward,  with  her  head  resting  upon 
her  arms,  perhaps  asleep  ;  the  scoria  of  the  volcano  had  preserved  a  perfect  mold  of  her  form.  She 
was  clad  in  a  single  garment.     No  more  beautiful  form  was  ever  imagined  by  a  sculptor. 

SHE  lay,  face  downward,  on  her  bended  arm, 
In  this  her  new,  sweet  dream  of  human  bliss ; 
Her  heart  within  her,  fearful,  fluttering,  warm. 

Her  lips  yet  pained  with  love's  first,  timorous  kiss. 
She  did  not  note  the  darkening  afternoon, 

She  did  not  «iark  the  lowering  of  the  sky 
O'er  that  great  city ;  earth  had  given  its  boon 
Unto  her  lips;   Love  touched  her,  and  passed  by. 

In  one  dread  moment  all  the  sky  grew  dark  — 

The  hideous  rain,  the  panic,  the  red  rout. 
Where  love  lost  love,  and  all  the  world  might  mark 

The  city  overwhelmed,  blotted  out. 
Without  one  cry,  so  quick  oblivion  came, 

And  life  passed  to  the  black  where  all  forget; 
But  she  —  we  know  not  of  her  house  or  name  — 

In  love's  sweet  musings  doth  lie  dreaming  yet. 

The  dread  hell  died,  the  ruined  world  grew  still, 

And  the  great  city  passed  to  nothingness ; 
The  ages  went,  and  mankind  worked  its  will. 

Then  men  stood  still  amid  the  centuries'  press, 
And  in  the  ash-hid  ruins  opened  bare. 

As  she  lay  down  in  her  shamed  loveliness, 
Sculptured  and  frozen,  late  they  found  her  there, 

Image  of  love,  'mid  all  that  hideousness. 

Her  head,  face  downward,  on  her  bended  arm. 

Her  single  robe  that  showed  her  shapely  form, 
Her  wondrous  fate  love  keeps  divinely  warm 

Over  the  centuries  past  the  slaying  storm. 
The  heart  can  read  in  writings  time  hath  left, 

That  linger  still  through  death's  oblivion; 
And  in  this  waste  of  life  and  light  bereft. 

She  brings  again  a  beauty  that  had  gone. 

And  if  there  be  a  day  when  all  shall  wake, 

As  dreams  the  hoping,  doubting  human  heart. 
The  dim  forgetfulness  of  death  will  break 

For  her  as  one  who  sleeps  with  hps  apart. 
And  did  God  call  her  suddenly,  I  know 

She  'd  wake  as  morning  wakened  by  the  thrush, 
Feel  that  red  kiss,  across  the  centuries,  glow. 

And  make  all  heaven  rosier  by  her  blush. 

William  Wilfred  Campbell. 

670 


PIONEER    PACKHORSES    IN    ALASKA. 

WITH    PICTURES    FROM    SKETCHES    AND    PHOTOGRAPHS    BY    THE   AUTHOR. 

I.  THE  ADVANCE. 


The  route  followed  by  Mr.  Glave.  from  Pyramid  Harbor  to  the  re- 
gion north  of  Mount  St.  Elias  and  back,  crosses  the  national  boun- 
dary six  times,  and  is  indicated  by  dashes  and  crossed  lines. 

THE  continent  of  Alaska,  roughly  speak- 
ing 2000  miles  in  length  and  1700  miles 
in  width,  purchased  in  1867  by  the  United 
States  Government  from  Russia  for  $7,200, 
000,  offers  to  the  traveler  a  vast,  almost  un- 
known area.  Within  its  limits  nature  presents 
contrasting  scenes;  its  northern  and  west- 
ern ice-fields  harbor  the  polar  bear  and  the 
walrus,  and  the  tiny  humming-bird  nests  in  its 
southern  forests.  Its  surf-beaten  coast-line 
has  long  ago  been  charted,  and  its  navigable 
waters  have  been  explored;  but  the  great  in- 
terior, unapproached  by  waterways,  is  almost 

unknown.  manded  most  exorbitant  pay.    Moreover,  his 

A  journey  which  I  made  in  central  Alaska  arrogance,  inconsistency,  cunning,  ajid  general 
in  1890,  as  a  member  of  an  exploring  expedi-  unreliability  are  ever  on  the  alert  to  thwart  the 
tion,  assured  me  beyond  doubt  that  defective  white  man.  No  matter  how  important  your 
transport  was  the  sole  reason  for  the  undevel-  mission,  your  Indian  carriers,  though  they  have 
oped  and  unexplored  state  of  the  land.  The  duly  contracted  to  accompany  you,  will  delay 
Indian  carrier  was  the  only  means  of  transpor-  your  departure  till  it  suits  their  convenience, 
tation;  he  controlled  the  situation,  and  com-    and  any  exhibition  of  impatience  on  your  part 

671 


672 


PIONEER   PACKHORSES  IN  AIASKA. 


will  only  remind  them  of  your  utter  dependence 
upon  them;  and  then  intrigue  for  increase  of 
pay  will  at  once  begin.  When  en  route  they 
will  prolong  the  journey  by  camping  on  the 
trail  for  two  or  three  weeks,  tempted  by  good 
hunting  or  fishing.  In  a  land  where  the  open 
season  is  so  short,  and  the  ways  are  so  long, 
such  delay  is  a  tremendous  drawback.  Often 
the  Indians  will  carry  their  loads  some  part  of 
the  way  agreed  upon,  then  demand  an  extrav- 
agant increase  of  pay  or  a  goodly  share  of  the 
white  man's  stores,  and,  failing  to  get  either, 
will  fling  down  their  packs  and  return  to  their 
village,  leaving  their  white  employer  helplessly 
stranded. 

The  expense  of  Indian  labor,  therefore,  with 
its  attendant  inconvenience  and  uncertainty, 
renders  a  long  overland  journey  impossible.  An 
Indian  cannot  be  hired  at  less  than  two  dollars 
a  day,  which,  however,  is  a  mere  trifle  com- 
pared to  the  obligation  of  feeding  him.  Your 
carriers  will  start  with  loads  weighing  from 
80  to  90  pounds,  and  will  eat  about  three  pounds 
dead-weight  each  day  per  man,  so  that  at  the 
end  of  the  month  a  point  will  have  been  reached 
in  the  interior,  and  all  your  stores  consumed  by 
the  men  carrying  them,  and  for  this  unusual 
privilege  the  traveler  hasstiU  to  pay  sixty  dollars 
a  month  for  each  man's  services.  When  travel- 
ing on  his  own  account,  the  Indian  lives  spar- 
ingly on  dried  salmon,  but  when  employed  by 
a  white  man  his  appetite  at  once  assumes  boa- 
constrictor  proportions.  Game  is  so  scarce  that 
it  cannot  be  relied  on  to  afford  much  relief  to 
the  constant  drain  on  your  provisions.  Occa- 
sionally an  opportunity  will  present  itself  by 
which  you  can  bag  a  bear  or  a  mountain-goat, 
a  very  pleasant  addition  to  your  larder,  and  an 
acceptable  change  from  the  monotonous  bean- 
and-bacon  fare  ;  but  you  cannot  depend  on  the 
rifle  for  food ;  without  a  plentiful  supply  of  pro- 
visions, misery  and  hunger  will  drive  you  un- 
ceremoniously from  your  working- ground. 

The  only  way  to  test  the  resources  and  pos- 
sibilities of  Alaska  is  by  making  thorough  re- 
search through  every  part  of  the  land,  and 
conducting  your  investigations  entirely  inde- 
pendent of  native  report  either  favorable  or 
discouraging. 

I  determined  to  revisit  Alaska  in  the  spring 
of  1 89 1,  and  to  endeavor  to  make  a  journey  to 
the  far  interior  with  packhorses.  From  what 
he  had  already  seen  of  the  land,  John  Dalton, 
who  accompanied  me  on  the  previous  journey, 
was  equally  convinced  with  myself  of  the  feasi- 
bility of  such  an  undertaking.  As  I  was  about 
to  make  what  I  thought  to  be  rather  an  impor- 
tant experiment,  I  ventured  to  ask  some  slight 
assistance  from  the  geographical  departments 
of  the  United  States  and  Canadian  govern- 
ments, such  as  the  loan  of  a  few  instruments, 


which  otherwise  would  lie  idle  in  some  Gov- 
ernment oftice,  in  return  for  which  privilege  I 
promised  a  rough  map  of  an  enormous  area  of 
unknown  land ;  but  my  suggestions  failed  to 
obtain  a  favorable  hearing.  Failing  to  awaken 
interest  in  my  experiment  through  different 
channels,  I  decided  to  go  at  my  own  expense. 
Dalton  had  agreed  to  aid  me ;  in  fact,  without 
the  promise  of  his  valuable  services  I  should 
have  hesitated  to  make  the  attempt. 

An  interesting  part  of  this  vast  unexplored 
interior  lies  between  the  Yukon  River  and  Mt. 
St.  Elias  on  the  southeast  coast  of  Alaska. 
Gold  has  been  discovered  everywhere  on  the 
outskirts,  warranting  the  supposition  that  the 
same  precious  metal  exists  in  the  interior.  All 
the  streams  heading  from  this  quarter  show 
specimens  of  mineral  along  their  shores,  a  fact 
which  created  in  our  minds  the  reasonable  hope 
that  we  might  strike  the  supply  at  its  source. 

In  Alaskan  expeditions  it  is  essential  that  the 
party  of  whites  be  as  small  as  possible.  Each 
additional  man  adds  to  the  need  of  transport, 
and  besides,  a  large  body  of  whites  is  Hable  to 
arouse  the  suspicions  of  the  natives  and  to  cre- 
ate trouble.  So  Dalton  and  I  decided  to  make 
the  venture  alone.  He  was  a  most  desirable 
partner,  having  excellent  judgment,  cool  and 
deliberate  in  time  of  danger,  and  possessed  of 
great  tact  in  dealing  with  Indians.  He  thor- 
oughly understood  horses,  was  as  good  as  any 
Indian  in  a  cottonwood  dugout  or  skin  canoe, 
and  as  a  camp  cook  I  never  met  his  equal. 

We  equipped  ourselves  at  Seattle  with  four 
short,  chunky  horses  weighing  about  nine  hun- 
dred pounds  each,  supplied  ourselves  with  the 
requisite  pack-saddles  and  harness,  stores  and 
ammunition,  then  embarked  on  board  a  coast 
steamer,  and  sailed  north  from  Puget  Sound, 
through  the  thousand  miles  of  inland  seas,  to 
Alaska.  We  disembarked  at  Pyramid  Harbor, 
near  the  mouth  of  the  Chilkat  River,  which  is 
by  far  the  most  convenient  point  from  which  to 
start  for  the  interior.  No  horses  had  ever  been 
taken  into  the  country,  and  old  miners,  traders, 
and  prospectors  openly  pitied  our  ignorance  in 
imagining  the  possibility  of  taking  pack-animals 
over  the  coast-range.  The  Indians  ridiculed  the 
idea  of  such  an  experiment ;  they  told  us  of  the 
deep,  swift  streams  flowing  across  our  path, 
the  rocky  paths  so  steep  that  the  Indian  hunter 
could  climb  in  safety  only  by  creeping  on  his 
hands  and  knees.  Finding  that  their  discour- 
aging reports  failed  to  influence  us,  the  Chilkat 
Indians,  foreseeing  that  our  venture,  if  success- 
ful, would  greatly  injure  their  interests  by  es- 
tabhshing  a  dangerous  competition  against 
their  present  monopoly,  held  meetings  on  the 
subject,  and  rumor  reached  us  that  our  further 
advance  would  be  resisted.  However,  when 
we  were  ready,  we  saddled  up,  buckled  on 


PIONEER  PACKHORSES  IN  ALASKA. 


673 


During 


our  pistol-belts,  and  proceeded  on 
our  journey  without  any  attempt 
at  hindrance  save  by  verbal  dem- 
onstration. 

Upon  our  arrival  at  the  coast- 
range  we  were  compelled  to  suffer 
delay  owing  to  the  backwardness 
of  the  season.  The  mountains  were 
still  deeply  buried  in  snow  ;  on  the 
higher  slopes  the  topmost  tufts  on 
the  tall  spruce  and  hemlock  just 
peered  through  their  wintry  mantling 
the  daytime  the  thermometer  rose  to  54°  above 
freezing-point,  but  each  night  the  mercury 
dropped  a  few  degrees 
below.  The  rapidly  in- 
creasing heat  of  the  sun, 
heralding  the  approach 
of  summer,  was  ousting 
winter  from  its  frigid 
sway,  and  furnishing  the 
land  with  a  gentler  cli- 
mate. 

A  short  distance  from 
the  coast  the  snow  lay 
deep,  even  in  the  valley 
lands.  We  found  a  fine 
patch  of  grass,  however, 
around  the  village  of 
Klokwan,  twenty-five 
miles  up  the 
Chilkat  River, 
which  would 
maintain  our 
horses  in  good 
condition  till 
the  season  opened  suffi- 
ciently to  permit  a  further 
advance.  At  this  Indian  settlement  there  are 
about  twenty  houses  constructed  of  heavy 
planking,  roofed  with  rudely  hewn  boards,  each 
having  an  immense  aperture  for  the  escape  of 
smoke.  On  all  sides  these  dwellings  are  loop- 
holed  for  muskets.  Many  a  stubborn  fight  has 
been  decided  around  this  village,  the  plank- 
ing being  pitted  with  slugshot.  Most  of  these 
huts  are  occupied  by  three  or  four  families ; 
some  of  greater  dimensions,  however,  will 
shelter  sixty  Indians. 

The  Chilkat  nation  is  divided  into  sec- 
tions, each  named  after  some  living  thing. 
There  are  the  Ravens,  Wolves,  Eagles,  Snails, 


PLAITED     FIBER     DANCING-EONNETS. 

Bears,  etc.,  and  the  houses  of  the  principal 
men  are  ornamented  with  large,  grotescjuely 
carved  tablets,  which  signify  by  their  particu- 
lar design  the  legend  or  history  of  the  respec- 
tive family.  These  people  have  no  written 
language.  In  former  days  every  event  of  con- 
sequence was  duly  chronicled  by  some  design, 
suggestive  of  the  occurrence,  chiseled  upon  a 
wooden  pillar,  such  designs  being  placed  in 
succession  till  an  immense  log  was  entirely 


CHILKAT   PILLAR  RECORD- 
ING   LEGEND    OF    RAVEN 
FAMILY. 


BANQUET    DISH,    14    FEET    LONG,   14    INCHES    WIDE,   AND    15    INCHI 

Vol.  XLIV.— 88. 


WOODEN    DANCING-MASKS,     CROW    NATION. 

taken  up  with  a  strange  medley  of  exaggerated 
figures.  Most  of  these  carvings  are  very  old, 
and  their  legends  and  historical  references  have 
been  distorted  by  constant  repetition.  (Jnly  the 
oldest  men  attempt  to  interpret  the  puzzling  de- 
signs produced  by  their  ancestors.  Formerly 
powerful  chieftains  held  court  here  with  bar- 
baric pomp,  and  terrorized  the  neighboring  peo- 
ples. They  were  bucaneers  and  pirates. 
The  chief,  Klenta  Koosh,  has  a  strange 
collection  of  old  firearms,  and  outside 
his  house  two  iron  cannons  defend  the 
approach  with  threatening  array  —  all 
stolen  from  a  Russian  ship  which 
stranded  on  the  Alaskan  shore  in  for- 
mer days.  Slavery  was  then  in  general 
practice;  prisoners  became  the  serfs  of 


674 


PIONEER  PACKHORSES  IN  ALASKA. 


TOWING  HORSES  ACROSS  THE  CHILKAT  RIVER. 


their  captors,  and,  as  in  central  Africa  to-day, 
constituted  the  principal  source  of  wealth. 

The  old-time  Chilkat,  dressed  in  skins  and 
furs  obtained  from  the  inland  tribes,  had  his 
garments  picturesquely  fringed,  and  tasseled, 
and  beaded,  and  woven  in  with  stained  swan- 
quills.  He  wore  bracelets  of  copper,  and  car- 
ried copper  spears,  knives,  and  arrows.  He 
was  a  warrior,  and  lived  but  to  perish  in  battle. 
In  those  days  no  ceremony  was  complete  un- 
less attended  by  human  sacrifice;  execution  of 
slaves  was  of  frequent  occurrence,  for  supersti- 
tious belief  deemed  disaster  and  illness  the  do- 
ing of  angry  spirits,  only  to  be  appeased  by  the 
shedding  of  human  blood.  Tribal  wars  and 
hand-to-hand  fights  followed  from  the  slightest 
disagreement. 

It  was  the  custom  then  for  all  the  young  men 
in  the  village  to  plunge  each  morning,  winter 
and  summer,  into  the  chilly  stream,  stay  in  the 
icy  waters  till  benumbed  with  cold,  and  then  to 
thrash  one  another  with  stout-thonged  Avhips 
till  circulation  and  animation  were  thoroughly 
restored.  This  novel  apprenticeship  is  said  to 
have  had  the  effect  of  creating  unusual  stamina, 
producing  the  ability  to  withstand  cold  and 
hunger,  and  deadening  feeling.  The  Indians 
say  that  a  warrior  thus  trained,  though  mor- 
tally wounded,  would  face  his  foe  and  cut  and 
stab  while  life  remained.     In  such  duels  they 


protected  their  heads  with  wooden  helmets, 
shaped  in  design  according  to  their  nation ; 
they  also  wore  buckskin  shirts,  and  bound  their 
arms  with  strips  of  leather.  Gormandizing 
competitions  used  to  be  a  popular  form  of  en- 
tertainment; an  immense  trough,  called  Klook- 
Ook-Tsik,  14  feet  long,  14  inches  in  width,  and 
15  in  depth,  was  filled  with  meats,  bear  and 
mountain-goat,  fish,  berries,  and  oil.  Then  fa- 
milies vied  with  one  another  as  to  who  could  eat 
the  most,  and  many  serious  fights  have  resulted 
from  the  jealousy  of  the  losers. 

The  present  generation  of  Chilkat  Indians  is 
fast  relinquishing  tribal  customs  and  ceremo- 
nies, and  is  taking  but  little  interest  in  the  history 
of  its  ancestors.  Dances  are  no  longer  held  in 
which  family  head-dresses  and  costumes  are 
worn.  The  great  wooden  banqueting-trough 
is  now  embedded  in  moss  and  in  grass  that 
grows  between  the  floor-boards  in  the  house 
where  once  old  "  Kay  Tsoo  "  assembled  his  fol- 
lowers by  drum-beat,  despatched  them  on  the 
trail  for  war  or  trade,  declared  the  guilty  and 
the  innocent,  and  condemned  to  death  as  he 
willed.  At  the  present  day  there  are  a  few  men 
in  the  villages  known  as  "  ankow,"  or  chief, 
but  they  have  only  feeble  power. 

In  character  these  Indians  are  a  strange 
composition  —  unemotional,  morose,  unsym- 
pathetic,   superstitious,   indifferent    to    death, 


FrONEER   PACK  HORSES  IN'  ALASKA. 


fe>5 


without  the  slightest 
idea  of  gratitude,  and 
having  an  astonishing 
respect  for  the  prop- 
erty of  others.  When 
on  a  trading-journey, 
or  out  hunting,  they 
will  leave  their  be- 
longings hanging  on 
bushes  all  along  the 
trail;  and  snow-shoes, 
sometimes  a  musket, 
blankets,  a  leg  of 
smoked  bear,  a  dried 
salmon,  are  frequent- 
ly noticed  along  an 
Indian  path.  No  one 
thinks  of  touching 
any  of  these  things, 
and  they  have  not 
the  power  of  the  police  to  enforce  honesty  by 
intimidation. 

An  incident  happened  to  us  which  demon- 
strates their  utter  want  of  feeling  for  the  interests 
of  others.  While  at  one  of  our  camps  a  party 
of  Indians  returned  from  a  journey  to  the  in- 
terior which  they  had  made  on  snow-shoes. 
I  noticed  that  their  chief,  Klenta  Koosh,  was  not 
with  them  on  their  return,  and  I  asked  of  one  of 
the  Indians, "  Kusu  Klenta  Koosh  "  ("  Where  is 
Klenta  Koosh  ")  ? "  Klake  sekoo,klake  setteen  " 
("  I  don't  know.  I  have  not  seen  him").  Then 
he  explained  that  he  had  not  seen  the  chief 
for  three  days.  While  crossing  the  mountains 
they  were  caught  in  a  dense  fog;  the  party  kept 
together  for  a  time  by  calling  constantly  to  one 
another,  but  finally  the  voice  of  the  chief  grew 
fainter  and  fainter,  and  then  could  no  longer 
be  heard.  In  the  same  breath  with  this  explana- 
tion the  Indian  asked  me,  "  Have  the  salmon 
started  to  run  up  our  river  ?  "    I  ignored  his 


"  MARY  "    ON    SNOWSHOES. 


question,  and  asked  again,  "But  where  is 
Klenta  Koosh  ?  "  As  if  disgusted  at  my  interest 
in  such  a  trivial  matter,  the  man  answered  quite 
snappishly,  "  I  don't  know;  either  he  has  been 
killed  by  a  bear  or  drowned  crossing  one  of  the 
swollen  streams." 

During  our  stay  at  the  Indian  village  of  Klok- 
wan  our  horses  remained  in  splendid  condition. 
The  natives  themselves  were  too  scared  at  the 
strange  animals  to  annoy  them.  Their  dogs  at 
first  made  a  noisy  attack,  but  a  few  kicks  from 
the  horses  warned  them  that  it  was  more  com- 
fortable to  howl  at  a  distance. 

Toward  the  end  of  May  the  summer  warmth 
had  rid  the  valleys  of  their  winter  snow ;  so  we 
saddled  up  and  moved  on  toward  the  interior. 
Our  road  from  Klokwan  lay  along  the  course 
of  the  Kleeheenee,  which  heads  away  from  a 
glacier,  and,  flowing  from  the  westward,  enters 
the  Chilkat  River  just  above  the  village.  In 
crossing  the  parent  river,  now  swollen  by  its 


DRAWN    BY  W.  TABER. 


CROSSING     A     HARDENED     SNOWFIELD. 


676 


PIONEER   PACKHORSES  IN  ALASKA. 


DRAWN    BY  DE  COST  SMITH 


THE     APPROACH     TO     A     CANON. 


pitch  around  the  eyes  and  ears  of  our 
animals  kept  those  sensitive  parts  free 
from  the  pests,  and  when  my  head 
grew  so  bumpy  I  could  not  get  my 
hat  on  I  applied  the  remedy  to  my 
own  anatomy  with  a  good  deal  of  suc- 
cess. When  not  feeding,  our  horses 
would  leave  the  sheltered  places  and 
seek  the  open  stone  flats  to  avail  them- 
selves of  whatever  breeze  was  blow- 
ing; they  would  then  stand  in  couples 
so  that  each  had  the  benefit  of  the 
other's  tail  as  a  swish.  We  had  three 
horses,  and  one  little  mare,  who  was 
the  pet  of  the  band;  she  would  often 
stand  behind  two  horses,  and  thus  en- 
joy a  monopoly  of  the  fly-brushes. 

Our  Indian  guide  was  most  anxious 
to  ride  on  horseback,  and  an  oppor- 
tunity presented  itself  to  indulge  him 
while  we  were  shifting  camp  a  few 
miles.    We  had  loaded   our  horses 
very  lightly  and  were  riding  on  the 
packs,  and  while  thus  occupied  our 
Indian  suffered  a  sudden  change  in 
his  usually  uninteresting  and  phleg- 
matic course  of  life.    He  was  riding 
the  little  mare.    Close  to  our  camp 
there  was  a  broad,  deep  ditch,  with  steep  banks 
on  each  side;  we  had  always  walked  our  horses 
down  one  side  and  up  the  other.    The  Indian 
had  no  reason  to  suppose  that  the  mare  would 
depart  from  that  custom;  but  he  had  no  time 


tribute  from  melting  snows  into  a  deep,  swift 
stream,  we  towed  each  of  our  horses  across  with 
a  canoe,  with  which  we  also  carried  our  sup- 
plies as  far  as  navigation  permitted.  We  then 
harnessed  up  again,  and,  riding  on  the  pack- 
saddles,  proceeded  on  our  way  along  the  stony  for  any  meditation  on  the  subject,  for  upon  ar- 
valley  of  the  Kleeheenee,  which  we  had  to  swim  riving  at  the  brink  the  little  mare  sprang  over 
several  times  on  horseback,  where  the  precipi-  the  ditch.  The  copper-colored  rider  was  pitched 
tous  bluffs  on  one  bank  stopped  our  advance  into  the  air.  He  sat  dazed  until  returning  reason 
and  compelled  us  to  cross.  At  one  place  I  had  convinced  him  that  it  was  too  serious  a  mishap 
a  bad  fall.    The  horse  I  was  riding  sank  into  a    to  be  a  dream. 

small  bed  of  quicksand,  and,  struggling  to  free         Fearing  that  we  might  have  a  lot  of  soft  snow 
himself,  reared  and  fell  backward.   Fortunately    to  cross  on  the  summit,  we  constructed  sets  of 
I  was  thrown  oft"  a  sufficient  distance  to  be  safe    four  snow-shoes  for  our  horses.    We  trimmed 
from  his  plunging  and  kicking,  and 
finally  Dalton  and  I  helped  him  out. 
This  stream,  though  at  places   not 
more  than  100  yards  in  width,  is  a 
treacherous  torrent.    Only  last  year 
a  man  lost  his  life  while  attempting 
to  descend  it  on  a  raft.  After  proceed- 
ing twenty  miles  from  our  last  camp, 
another  halt  became  necessary.  The 
valleys  were  free  from  snow,  but  the 
mountain  slopes  seemed  loath  to  dis- 
card their  winter  mantling. 

We  were  compelled  to  pitch  our 
tent  again,  and  to  wait  till  summer 
gained  full  power.  At  this  camp  both 
we  and  our  horses  were  tormented 
most  unmercifully  by  mosquitos  and  a 
hideous  assortment  of  teasing  insects. 
A  liberal  daubing  of  bacon  fat  and 


A     ROUGH     BIT     OF     CLIMBIKO. 


PIONEER   PACKHORSES  IN  ALASKA. 


677 


some  stout  young  spruce  saplings,  then  lashed 
these  into  hoops  fourteen  inches  in  diameter, 
and  filled  them  in  with  plaited  rope,  each,  when 
finished,  resembling  the  exaggerated  head  of  a 
lawn-tennis  racket.  The  horse's  hoof  was  placed 
in  a  pad  in  the  center  of  the  shoe,  and  a  series 
of  loops  drawn  up  and  laced  round  the  fetlock 
kept  it  in  place.  When  first  experimenting  with 
these,  a  horse  would  snort  and  tremble  upon  lift- 
ing his  feet.  Then  he  would  make  the  most  vig- 
orous eftbrts  to  shake  them  oft".  Standing  on  his 
hind-legs,  he  would  savagely  paw  the  air,  then 
quickly  tumble  on  to  his  fore-legs  and  kick  fran- 
tically. ^^'e  ga\e  them  daily  instruction  in  this 
novel  accomplishment  till  each  horse  was  an 


we  found  covered  with  a  dense  growth  of  brit- 
tle shrub  and  coarse  grass,  and,  on  the  extreme 
heights,  snow-fields  and  moss-covered  rock. 
We  had  made  several  reconnoitering  trips  to 
select  the  best  ways,  and  we  reached  the  sum- 
mit, 4750  feet  elevation,  by  slow  and  careful 
ascent,  without  any  serious  mishap.  On  the  ex- 
treme heights  of  the  divide  a  giant  table-land 
extends  for  several  miles  in  all  directions.  The 
air  was  cold,  and  the  view  cheerless,  all  lower 
lands  were  out  of  sight,  and  a  distant  circle  of 
snowy  peaks  penciled  out  the  horizon  with 
glistening  ruggedness.  Everywhere  on  the 
high  levels  we  crossed  over  immense  patches 
of  snow,  in  most  places  packed  so  hard  that 


A     PICTURESQUE     RAVIHE. 


expert ;  but  our  precaution  proved  unnecessary, 
for  all  the  snow  we  crossed  during  the  season 
was  packed  hard. 

At  last  we  set  forth  in  earnest.  Gradually  we 
had  been  following  the  receding  snow,  and  had 
now  reached  the  foot  of  the  Rocky  Mountains, 
forming  the  divide  or  coast-range.  The  dreaded 
wall  of  towering  heights,  which  had  kept  the 
land  so  long  unknown,  was  ahead  of  us.  Thus 
far  our  march  had  been  over  stony  valleys 
along  the  Chilkat  and  the  Kleeheenee  rivers. 
We  now  left  the  rivers  and  struck  northward. 
On  the  lower  slopes  of  the  mountains  we  had 
to  cut  a  trail  through  forests  of  spruce  and  hem- 
lock.   The  steep  hillsides  of  the  higher  levels 


our  horses'  iron  shoes  made  but  little  impres- 
sion. Occasionally,  however,  the  crisp  surface 
would  break  through,  and  let  us  and  our 
animals  into  deep,  soft  snow.  While  leading 
the  little  mare  across  one  gulch,  the  hardened 
crust  collapsed,  and  I  and  my  horse  tumbled 
out  of  sight  into  an  icy  stream  coursing  through 
its  snowy  tunnel  beneath.  By  this  time  my  mare 
had  become  quite  philosophical  in  her  accep- 
tance of  such  incidents;  she  remained  quiet,  and 
looked  at  me  as  if  inquiring  what  I  meant  to 
do  under  the  circumstances.  So  I  clambered 
out,  and,  giving  her  plenty  of  rope,  urged  and 
coaxed  her  to  follow.  The  opposite  bank  of 
the  gulch  being  only  a  few  yards  distant,  by 


678 


PIONEER  PACKHORSES  IN  AIASKA. 


energetic  plunging 
she  broke  her  way 
through  and  climbed 
out. 

Everywhere     the 
surface  of  the  land 
had     been     deeply 
scarred    by    glacial 
violence    into    hol- 
lows and  deep,  dark 
canons.     It   needed 
the  greatest  caution 
to  descend  and  climb 
the  treacherous  cut- 
tings,   banked     on 
each   side    by   rag- 
ged, rocky  walls,  ris- 
ing steep  and  threat- 
ening from  the  dank 
depths         beneath, 
choked   with    boul- 
ders, and  hemming 
in  an  angry  torrent. 
Sometimes   the  ap- 
proach was  down  a  steep  face  of  slippery 
granite,  and  the  horses  would   slide  several 
feet  before  getting  foothold ;  in  other  places 
loosened    rocks  would    give  way.     But  our 
plucky    little    animals    would    struggle    and 
spring  into  safety,  and  obtain  respite  from  the 
threatened  accident.     Many  of  the  cuttings 
grooved  out  are  shallow,  with  low  grass  banks 
sloping  gracefully  to  the  beds  of  tiny  stream- 
lets beneath. 

From  the  Kleeheenee  River  to  the  summit 
and  over  the  divide  our  course  had  been  al- 
most due  north.  When  once  beyond  the  coast- 
range,  which  took  up  two  days'  hard  traveling. 


CHILKAT     GRAVEYARD,    SHOWING     HOUSE     OF     FROG     NATION. 
COQNENNAR    GRAVES,    ANCIENT    AND    MODERN. 


THE    CHIEF  S    HUT,    AND    GROUP    OF    GOONENNAR    NATIVES. 

we  gradually  descended  to  a  lower  level,  and 
struck  away  to   the  westward  into  a  great 
valley,  reaching  as  far  as  the  eye  could  see,  and 
walled  on  each  side  by  a  lofty  line  of  moun- 
tains, thickly  wooded  to  the  snow-line.    Ava- 
lanche and  torrent  had  hewn  the  hillsides  into 
deep  ravines,  and  moving  ice-fields  had  forced 
a  way  through  the  rocky  wall.    In  the  valleys 
beneath  a  rapid  stream  coursed  along  to  the 
west,  gaining  volume  on  the  way  as  tributaries 
from  lakes  and  of  melting  snow  flowed  into 
it  through  the  mountain  gorges.    As  the  lower 
levels  were  choked  with  timber-lands,  we  struck 
to  the  left,  and  found  a  better  way  along  the 
crests  of  the  foot-hills ;  we  crossed  im- 
mense areas  of  glacial  deposit, —  boul- 
der, pebble,  and  sand, —  floundered  to 
the  saddle-blankets  in  spongy  quag- 
mire, and  tramped  through  pasture- 
lands    clothed   in   the 
richest  grasses.  Several 
times  our  horses  sank 
deep  into  the  treacher- 
ous bog,  which  threat- 
.^    ened  to  engulf  them, 
/  '^  but  by  taking  off  their 
heavy    packs,    unsad- 
dling them,  and  aiding 
their  own  efforts  by  lift- 
ingand  hauling,wewere 
always  able  to  get  them 
out  into  safety  again. 
After  encountering  any 
such  mishap,  we  made 
it  a  rule  to  prospect  for 
another  way,  so  as  to 
avoid  the  bad  places 


PIONEER   PACKHORSES  IN  ALASKA. 


679 


on  any  future  journey.  Even  on  the  heights 
we  found  lakes  and  marsh-lands,  which  owed 
their  origin  to  waters  from  melting  snow,  im- 
prisoned in  hollows,  without  an  outlet. 

After  two  more  days  of  hard  travehng  we 
reached  a  wooded  bluff  overlooking  an  Indian 
village.  Descending  to  the  banks  of  a  river  the 
course  of  which  we  had  been  following,  we  fired 
a  couple  of  rifle-shots,  which  is  the  Indian  sig- 
nal of  approach.  Soon  a  crowd  appeared  on 
the  opposite  bank,  and  shoved  their  dugouts 
into  the  stream;  we  unsaddled  our  horses,  and 
swam  them  across  the  river,  and  the  Indians 
carried  our  belongings  over  in  their  canoes.  We 
loaded  up  again,  and  a  few  minutes'  walk  took 
us  to  the  Indian  village  of  Neska-ta-heen.  Dal- 


NICHOLS. 

INTERIOR    OF    GOONENNAR    HUT 


ton  and  I  had  met  these  people  during  the 
journey  of  the  previous  summer;  we  then  ap- 
proached this  settlement  from  the  north  on 
our  way  down  the  Alseck  River  to  the  Pacific 
Ocean.  The  road  over  which  we  had  now  trav- 
eled was  the  direct  way  from  the  coast.  No 
glaciers  or  insurmountable  difficulties  obstruct 
this  route.  Our  arrival  at  this  point  with  the 
pioneer  band  of  horses  is  a  most  important 
event  in  Alaskan  history,  destined  in  the  near 
future  to  receive  due  recognition. 

We  had  been  accompanied  thus  far  by  three 
coast  Indians,  one  as  interpreter,  and  two  as 


guides,hiredattwodollarsaday  and  their  board. 
This  precaution  is  absolutely  necessary  in  pio- 
neer travel ;  those  who  follow  in  an  explorer's 
footsteps  can  dispense  with  it.  These  men  took 
us  over  the  most  difficult  trails,  endeavoring 
by  all  means  in  their  power  to  make  our  ex- 
periment a  failure.  In  fact,  they  had  accom- 
panied us  in  order  to  have  the  opportunity  of 
disheartening  us  in  their  own  interest.  We  car- 
ried their  blankets,  and  everything  they  had,  on 
our  horses,  so  that  they  had  to  keep  up  with 
our  pace.  However,  being  paid  by  the  day, 
they  tried  to  delay  us;  but  it  was  to  our  advan- 
tage to  make  long  marches.  On  our  arrival 
one  of  these  men,  Shauk,  an  Indian  doctor 
of  the  Chilkat  tribe,  began  at  once  to  intrigue 
with  the  interior  Indians,  persuading  them  to 
arrest  our  passage  through  their  country,  as 
we  had  come  to  steal  their  land.  We  dis- 
charged this  fellow  at  very  short  notice ; 
then  the  other  two,  who  did  not  relish 
our  hard  traveling,  decided  to  leave 
us  and  to  return  to  the  coast.  Had 
we  been  dependent  upon  these  crea- 
tures we  should  have  been  most  seri- 
ously inconvenienced,  but  our  horse- 
transport  kept  us  safe  against  their 
unreliability.  One  of  the  guides,  old 
Indiank,  had  a  novel  excuse  for  leav- 
ing us.  He  said  his  relatives  on  the 
coast  did  not  wish  him  to  travel  into 
the  interior  any  more ;  he  was  getting 
old,  and  they  feared  that  some  day 
he  would  drop  down 
dead  on  the  trail. 
They  promised  him 
that,  if  he  would 
remain  with  them, 
they  would  supply 
him  with  all  the 
dried  salmon  he 
needed,  and  agreed, 
when  he  died,  to 
put  a  little  fence 
around  his  final  rest- 
ing-place. He  gave 
us  to  understand 
that  it  would  indeed 
be  sad  should  he  die  away  from  home  and  for- 
feit that  little  fence. 

Our  arrival  at  Neska-ta-heen  created  ex- 
citement among  the  natives;  our  horses,  of 
course,  were  of  far  more  interest  than  ourselves. 
They  had  never  seen  such  animals  before,  and, 
for  the  want  of  a  better  name,  called  them 
"harklane  ketl "  (big  dogs).  This  village 
looked  as  we  had  left  it  twelve  months  before ; 
there  was  the  same  stifling  atmosphere,  and 
the  natives  themselves  were  wearing  the  same 
unwashed  garments  stiffened  with  fat  and  dirt. 
They  received  us  good-naturedly,  and  the  old 


68o 


PIONEER   FACKIiORSES  IN  ALASKA. 


THE     SONG     OF     THE     CROW. 


chief  Warsaine  portioned  off  a  corner  of  his 
hut  for  us  and  our  suppHes,  and  the  chief's 
wife  consented  to  be  photographed.  One  young 
fellow  had  learned  from  a  Chilkat  Indian  a  few 
English  words.  As  we  reached  the  place  at  mid- 
day, we  were  naturally  astonished  to  be  loudly 
hailed  by  "  Good-night ! "  This  youth  used  the 
expression  "too  late"  with  varied  meaning;  it 
described  a  tear  in  a  shirt  or  a  death.  I  was 
commenting  on  the  pest  of  mosquitos,  and  he 
remarked,"  E-koo-gwink  konsissahittakartoo 
late,"  meaning,  "A  little  fire  in  the  tent  and  the 
mosquitos  will  be  '  too  late.'  " 

Our  poor  horses  suffered  severely  from  the 
mosquitos;  such  crowds  surrounded  them  that 
at  times  it  was  difficult  at  a  little  distance  to 
make  out  the  definite  outline  of  the  animals. 
Any  future  travelers  should  supply  their  horses 
with  thick  canvas  cloaks,  covering  securely  the 


bodies  and  heads,  and  leaving  only  the  eyes, 
nose,  and  mouth  exposed.  The  continual  pes- 
tering which  the  poor  brutes  suffer  keeps  them 
in  poor  condition;  they  cannot  feed  or  lie  down 
in  comfort.  We  kept  them  hobbled  all  the  sea- 
son when  not  at  work ;  a  necessary  precaution, 
for  if  seriously  startled  or  frenzied  by  torment 
from  insects,  they  might  stampede  a  hundred 
miles  before  being  overtaken. 

The  village  of  Neska-ta-heen  is  the  princi- 
l^al  settlement  of  the  Goonennar  Indians,  the 
tribe  inhabiting  that  part  of  Alaska  bordered  on 
the  north  and  east  by  the  Yukon,  on  the  south 
by  the  coast-range,  and  on  the  west  by  the  Cop- 
per River.  They  speak  a  language  somewhat  re- 
sembling tlie  sing-song  tongue  of  the  Chinese, 
and  entirely  difterent  from  that  of  the  coast 
natives,  which  is  composed  of  harsh,  raspy 
sounds,  obtained  by  trying  to  cork  up  the  throat 


PIONEER  PACKHORSES  IN  ALASKA. 


68i 


with  the  roots  of  the  tongue.  Throughout  their 
conversation  pecuHar  clicking  sounds  are  heard, 
resembHng  the  sudden  rending  of  a  new  piece 
of  caHco.  They  are  peaceably  inclined,  but  are 
always  weak-minded  enough  to  be  influenced 
and  controlled  by  the  Chilkat  Indians,  whom 
they  instinctively  acknowledge  as  their  superi- 
ors. They  are  a  strangely  cold-natured  people. 
They  have  no  ways  or  words  of  greeting.  A 
friend  from  a  far-distant  land  arrives,  and  with- 
out any  exchange  of  salutation  with  the  villag- 
ers, whom  he  has  not  seen  for  many  months, 
he  divests  himself  of  his  pack  and  arms,  draws 
his  blanket  round  his  shoulders,  and  squats  be- 
fore the  fire  till  his  host  acknowledges  his  pres- 
ence by  otfering  him  a  pot  of  fish  and  game  and 
a  big  horn  spoon.  When  stimulated  and  re- 
freshed by  the  appetizing  dish,  he  will  gradually 
and  deliberately  unburden  himself  of  news,  di- 
lating fully  upon  hunting  and  trapping,  but  pass- 
ing over  deaths  and  accidents  with  but  slight 
reference;  for  the  price  which  an  Indian  ob- 
tains for  his  black-bear  or  fox-skin  is  of  more 
concern  than  his  mother's  death. 

The  gastronomic  taste  of  these  people  has 
an  extended  range.  I  have  seen  an  Indian 
harpoon  a  salmon,  bite  a  mouthful  from  just 
above  the  nose,  then  fling  it  back  into  the 
stream.  Strange  to  say,  the  fish  swims  off  as 
though  the  loss  of  that  part  of  its  anatomy 
were  no  inconvenience.  I  remember  at  one 
time  visiting  a  little  rocky  island  which  had 
been  taken  possession  of  by  a  flock  of  gulls, 
and  we  gathered  a  lot  of  eggs.  It  was  a  little 
late  in  the  season,  however,  and  only  a  few 
were  really  fresh.  An  old  Indian  we  had  with 
us  at  the  time  watched  us  with  disdainful  gaze 
as  we  selected  the  good  and  discarded  the  bad. 
Then,  as  if  to  rebuke  our  fastidiousness  and 
lack  of  economy,  he  broke  half  a  dozen  in  his 
pan;  good,  bad,  and  indifferent  were  then  all 
mixed  up  in  an  omelet  to  his  liking.  It  is 
a  crude  palate  that  enjoys  the  delicious  wild 
strawberry  served  in  rancid  fat,  yet  to  the  In- 
dian this  fruit  is  insipid  unless  thus  dressed. 
Antiquated  fish-heads  are  a  favorite  dish ;  they 
are  kept  in  wooden  troughs  for  several  weeks 
before  they  are  thought  to  be  fit  for  eating. 
This  dish  is  produced  only  upon  some  impor- 
tant occasion  warranting  a  banquet.  When  eat- 
ing meat  they  toast  it  in  big  long  strips,  then 
stuff  as  much  as  possible  into  their  mouths,  and 
cut  off  each  bite  close  to  the  lips  with  their 
knives.  No  people  in  the  world  are  more  ad- 
dicted to  the  use  of  tobacco ;  they  are  inces- 
santly indulging  in  the  narcotic  in  some  form 
or  other.  They  smoke,  chew,  and  plaster  their 
teeth  and  gums  with  a  paste  made  of  damp- 
ened snuff"  and  ashes ;  they  even  sleep  with  to- 
bacco in  their  mouths.  Men  and  women  are 
equally  devoted  to  the  weed,  and  a  child  seven 
Vol.  XLIV.— 89-90. 


or  eight  years  old  will  never  lose  a  chance  of 
enjoying  a  few  whiffs  from  its  father's  pipe. 

In  the  disposal  of  their  dead  there  is  an  ele- 
ment of  precaution  highly  commendable.  The 
departed  one  is  laid  on  a  pile  of  dried  logs  that 
have  been  smeared  with  grease  ;  a  fire  is  then 
started,  and  the  few  charred  remains  gathered 
up,  tied  in  a  small  bundle,  and  stowed  away  in 
one  of  the  neat,  brightly  painted  little  houses 
at  the  back  of  the  village.  On  the  coast  each 
family  has  its  own  grave;  in  the  interior  they 
are  not  so  particular.  It  is  seldom  that  one 
finds  people,  even  among  the  most  savage, 
who  do  not  have  some  respect  for  their  dead, 
excepting,  of  course,  the  cannibal  tribes  of 
Africa.  In  making  a  short  trip  within  a  few 
miles  of  this  settlement,  we  were  attracted  to 
a  little  clearing  by  a  loud  buzzing  of  flies,  and 
found  an  Indian  lying  dead  with  only  a  few 
branches  rudely  thrown  over  him.  The  man 
was  poor,  and  left  behind  no  furs,  or  guns,  or 
blankets  to  compensate  any  one  for  the  trouble 
of  disposing  of  the  body  according  to  tribal 
custom,  so  he  was  left  where  he  died  on  the 
trail,  although  his  own  brother  was  in  the  party 
at  the  time  of  his  death. 

The  dog  plays  a  big  part  in  Indian  life.  In 
summer  he  accompanies  his  master  on  the  trail, 
and  is  harnessed  with  two  little  pack-bags  in 
which  is  stored  away  about  twenty-five  pounds' 
weight,  generally  of  shot,  so  that  in  crossing  the 
stream  no  damage  can  be  done.  In  the  winter 
they  draw  the  sleighs.  These  poor  animals  are 
very  badly  treated  at  all  times.  When  an  In- 
dian child  is  out  of  temper  he  attacks  a  dog, 
pinches  him,  screws  his  ears  round,  or  beats  him 
with  a  stick.  Only  during  a  few  months  in  the 
summer  do  the  dogs  get  enough  to  eat.  When 
the  salmon  are  running  they  hve  on  raw  fish, 
but  during  the  remainder  of  the  year  they  have 
to  be  contented  with  scraps  of  skin  and  bone. 
When  in  good  condition  they  are  fine-looking 
animals,  with  a  wolfish  head  and  body,  and  a 
coat  resembHng  that  of  a  collie.  As  a  rule 
want  of  food  and  hard  treatment  keep  them 
very  lean.  They  are  equipped  with  strange  di- 
gestive organs ;  at  one  time  one  of  them  ate  at 
one  meal  three  courses,  which  deprived  us  of  our 
only  piece  of  soap,  the  remains  of  a  towel,  and 
a  goodly  slice  of  Dalton's  hat.  On  another  occa- 
sion the  leathers  of  our  oars,  thickly  studded  with 
copper  tacks,  were  torn  off  and  eaten  by  a  dog. 

While  at  Neska-ta-heen  I  witnessed  the  cere- 
mony of  the  medicine-man  expelling  from  a 
sick  woman  the  evil  spirit  which  was  attack- 
ing her.  He  was  dressed  in  beaded  buckskins 
liberally  fringed,  and  wore  a  blanket  around  his 
shoulders;  a  few  litde  charms  hung  about  his 
neck,  and  he  held  a  wooden  rattle.  The  patient 
was  lying  on  a  robe  of  sheepskins  in  the  center 
of  the  hut,  and  a  crowd  of  natives  were  sitting 


682 


PIONEER  PACKHORSES  IN  ALASKA. 


at  the  sides.  All  were  smoking,  and  a  big  fire 
was  blazing,  creating  an  atmosphere  more  to 
be  dreaded  than  the  evil  spirit.  The  medicine- 
man approached  the  woman  and  uttered  in- 
cantations, at  first  slowly  and  deliberately;  but 
his  speech  and  actions  became  more  and  more 
excited  as  he  danced  and  hopped  about,  imita- 
ting birds  and  animals.  He  looked  truly  drama- 
tic as  he  leaned  over  the  woman,  and,  clutching 
fiercely  with  one  hand  at  some  unseen  object, 
pointed  tremblingly  with  the  other  to  the  aper- 
ture in  the  roof,  as  if  grabbing  the  evil  spirit  and 
suggesting  a  means  of  exit.  At  intervals  he  would 
Sng,  accompanied  by  the  beating  of  a  drum 
and  the  voices  of  his  audience.  His  first  song 
referred  to  a  raven,  and  while  he  sang  he  spread 
his  blanket  across  his  shoulders  and  hopped 
about  and  "cawed"  in  a  way  very  suggestive 
of  that  bird.    The  chorus  of  this  song  ran  thus : 

Ann  joo  chay  na  tay  na  koo  na  hee ; 
Ah  ah  ah,  yeah ;  yeah,  ah  ah  ah ; 

the  meaning  of  which  is  that  he  has  hunted 
throughout  the  village  and  has  found  no  one 
practising  witchcraft.  His  actions  and  incanta- 
tions increased  in  violence  till  they  became  a 
veritable  frenzy,  and  he  fell  groaning  to  the 
earth.  This  finale  suggested  that  he  had  suc- 
ceeded in  ridding  the  sick  woman's  body  of 
the  evil  one  —  and  the  audience  went  away. 
The  medicine-man  plays  a  big  part  in  the  life 
of  the  natives,  and  on  account  of  his  power  he 
is  the  most  dangerous  influence  with  which  a 
white  traveler  has  to  contend.  The  credulous 
natives  have  confidence  in  his  power.  They 
will  give  him  skins  and  furs,  which  they  have 
been  gathering  for  months  during  the  winter, 
in  return  for  some  paltry  charm  to  protect  them 
against  the  ills  which  beset  mankind.  A  fever 
or  a  swelling  will  disappear  if  he  only  blows 
on  the  sufferer,  and  an  ugly  gash  from  a  bear's 
claw  will  heal  at  once  under  the  same  treat- 
ment. It  is  a  form  of  faith-cure.  They  believe 
their  medicine-man  obtains  control  over  birds 
and  animals,  extracts  their  cunning,  and  allies 
this  with  his  own  ability,  thus  forming  a  power- 
ful combination  which  they  credit  with  super- 
natural power. 

Neska-ta-heen  is  a  most  important  rendez- 
vous. During  the  winter  the  natives  of  the  in- 
terior roam  over  all  the  land  in  small  parties, 
hunting  and  trapping,  but  return  here  with 
their  spoils  of  black  and  brown  bear,  black, 
cross,  gray,  white,  and  red  fox,  wolverine,  land- 
otter,  mink,  lynx,  beaver,  etc.,  and  exchange 
them  for  blankets,  guns,  powder,  and  tobacco, 
which  the  Chilkat  Indians  bring  to  them  from 
the  coast.  The  latter  have  always  enjoyed  a 
monopoly  of  this  trade,  and  the  natives  of  the 


interior  have  been  prevented  by  them  from  go- 
ing to  the  coast. 

From  this  point  valleys  of  comparatively 
open  country  stretch  away  to  the  four  quarters 
of  the  compass:  to  the  east  lies  the  way  we 
had  just  traveled  over;  the  valley  of  the  Alseck 
River  runs  south  to  the  Pacific  Ocean  ;  to  the 
west  there  is  a  way  to  the  back  of  Mt.  St.  Elias, 
and  lakes  Dassar-Dee-Ash  and  I-She-Ik  lie  to 
the  north.  Future  research  must  tell  what  trea- 
sures lie  concealed  in  these  unknown  regions. 

From  the  coast  to  Neska-ta-heen  we  had 
taken  the  Indian  trail  as  a  basis,  following  it 
when  good,  and,  as  far  as  possible,  avoiding  its 
bad  features.  After  that  experience,  we  con- 
cluded that  we  could  take  a  fully  loaded  pack- 
train  from  the  sea  to  this  village  in  seven  days. 
Our  successful  experiment  wrests  from  the  Chil- 
kat Indians  the  control  of  the  road  to  the  inte- 
rior; the  bolted  gate  hitherto  guarded  by  them, 
to  the  exclusion  of  enterprise  and  progress,  has 
swung  back  at  the  approach  of  the  packhorse. 

We  tried  our  hardest  to  get  guides  at  Neska- 
ta-heen  to  pilot  us  to  the  far  interior,  but  they 
would  not  seriously  entertain  our  proposal, 
though  we  offered  most  generous  remuneration. 
They  dared  not  go  to  the  White  River,  which 
we  wished  to  reach ;  the  Indians  of  that  region 
being  always  on  the  war-path.  In  former  days 
the  latter  had  made  raids  on  this  settlement 
and  killed  off"  the  natives ;  in  fact  the  present 
small  population  of  about  a  hundred  at  Neska- 
ta-heen  was  attributed  to  fights  with  the  Yookay 
Donner  people  dwelling  on  the  banks  of  the 
White  River.  They  pictured  to  us  a  frightful 
list  of  hideous  obstacles  to  overcome — hostile 
natives,  bottomless  swamps,  canons,  glaciers, 
and  swollen  torrents.  Should  we  continue  our 
course,  we  might  possibly  reach  this  far-away 
land  and  then  be  killed  by  the  hostile  Indians, 
and  it  was  so  far  that  we  could  not  get  back 
over  the  divide  to  the  coast  before  winter  set  in, 
and  we  and  our  horses  would  perish.  They 
begged  us  to  change  our  plans  and  to  make  a 
journey  through  some  safer  part  of  the  land, 
and  to  avail  ourselves  of  their  considerate 
guidance  at  two  dollars  a  day  and  board. 

I  Avas  able  to  extract  a  lot  of  crude  topo- 
graphical information  from  these  natives ;  the 
novelty  of  pencil  and  paper  and  judicious  little 
donations  of  tobacco  threw  them  oft"  their  guard. 
By  this  means  I  gained  a  knowledge  of  their 
trails  that  proved  of  the  utmost  value  to  us 
in  our  advance.  I  cross-questioned  them  most 
fully,  and  learned  of  unmistakable  landmarks 
and  bearings;  and  when  the  natives  refused 
to  accompany  us  as  guides,  their  scribblings  of 
valleys,  hills,  and  lakes  availed  to  keep  us  on 
our  course  to  the  far  interior  of  Alaska. 


E.  J.  Glave. 


i  regards  the  route  taken  by  Columbus  in  his  first  voyage  among:  the  islands,  these  maps  follow  the  lines  laid  down  by  the  G 
Rudolf  Cronau,  in  his  recent  work,  "  Amerika."     His  views  are  based  on  a  thorough  exploration  of  the  Bahamas, 


the  lines  laid  down  by  the  German  traveler 


CHRISTOPHER   COLUMBUS. 


By  Emilio  Castelar. 


V.    THE    NEW   WORLD. 


[HERE  are  longings  which 
can  find  expression  only  in 
music,  and  ideas  which 
poesy  alone  may  convey. 
As  human  speech,  crea- 
tion's divinest  work  though 
it  be,  is  too  weak  to  voice 
the  infinite  intensity  of  love, 
so  history,  although  showing  forth  the  mind  of 
man  as  the  universe  proclaims  its  Maker,  can 
never  in  its  cold  analysis  rise  to  the  level  of 
poetry,  which  after  all  is  the  sole  human  me- 
dium capable  of  fitly  depicting  the  feelings  of 
Columbus  in  presence  of  those  islands  —  the 
ecstatic  rapture  of  sight  and  sense,  the  ming- 
ling of  all  his  being  with  the  virgin  life  there 
revealed  amid  blue  seas  and  skies,  as  though  it 
were  the  work  of  his  owm  soul  and  the  crystalli- 
zation of  his  great  purpose. 

Something  akin  to  the  feelings  of  Him  who 
looked  upon  his  work  and  saw  that  it  was  good 
must  have  been  in  the  mind  of  Columbus  when 
he  gazed  upon  those  islands,  and  in  the  ecstasy 
of  his  joy  found  them  fair  beyond  the  fondest 
imaginings  of  his  fancy.  Yet  Columbus  is  silent 


touching  his  emotions,  as  well  at  the  sight  of 
the  dim  taper  that  told  of  human  life  amid  the 
wastes  as  when  he  beheld  the  first  land  that 
proved  the  truth  of  his  predictions.  A  monk- 
ish chronicler,  in  the  solitude  of  his  cell,  could 
scarce  have  set  down  more  curtly  the  acts  of 
other  men  than  has  Columbus  his  own  deeds. 

"At  the  second  hour,"  he  says,  "after  mid- 
night, the  land  appeared,  two  leagues  distant. 
All  sails  were  furled,  leaving  only  the  stormsail, 
which  is  the  squaresail  without  bonnets,  and  they 
lay  hove-to  awaiting  the  day,  Friday,  when  they 
reached  one  of  the  Lucayos,  which  in  the  Indian 
tongue  was  called  Guanahani.  Soon  naked  men 
were  seen,  and  the  admiral  went  ashore  in  the 
long  boat,  with  Martin  Alonso  Pinzon  and 
Vicente  Yanez,  his  brother,  who  was  captain  of 
the  Nina.  The  admiral  displayed  the  royal  stan- 
dard, and  the  captains  the  two  flags  of  the  green 
cross,  which  the  admiral  carried  on  all  the  ships 
as  signals,  bearing  an  F  and  a  Y,  and  above  each 
letter  a  crown,  one  on  one  side  of  the  cross  and  the 
other  on  the  other.  On  reaching  shore  they  saw 
very  green  trees,  and  much  water,  and  fruits  of 
divers  kinds.  The  admiral  summoned  the  two 
captains  with  the  others  who  went  ashore,  and 


684 


CHRISTOPHER    COLUMBUS. 


Rodrigo  Descovedo  the  scrivener  of  all  the  fleet, 
and  Rodrigo  Sanchez  of  Segovia,  and  bade  them 
bear  faith  and  witness  how  he  in  presence  of 
them  all  was  taking  and  of  right  did  take  posses- 
sion of  said  island  for  the  king  and  for  the  queen, 
his  lords,  making  all  the  requisite  declarations  as 
is  more  fully  set  forth  in  the  minutes  which  were 
there  drawn  up." 

Could  the  tale  be  more  simply  told?  Does 
this  recital,  as  bald  as  a  bill  of  lading  or  a  busi- 
ness letter,  show  any  trace  of  the  emotion 
which  underlies  other  passages  of  the  journal  ? 

Halting  only  three  days  in  the  first-found 
island,  Columbus  passed  on  to  others,  giving 
them  names  typical  of  his  thoughts  and  aims. 
The  first  he  named  San  Salvador,  in  homage  to 
our  Lord,  whose  saving  arm  had  upheld  him  in 
his  sorest  need;  the  second  he  called  Santa 
Maria  de  la  Concepcion,  a  name  invoked  by 
him  throughout  the  voyage,  and  to  the  holy  ef- 
ficacy of  which  he  attributed  his  good  hap  in 
escaping  storm  and  sickness  hitherto;  the  third 
he  christened  Femandina,  as  a  tribute  to  his 
king,  a  proof  that  the  monarch  had  not  been 
as  hostile  to  Columbus  as  a  certain  historical 
school  maliciously  supposes,  or  that,  if  he  had 
been,  Columbus  sought  his  future  favor  and 
consigned  the  past  to  oblivion;  to  the  fourth  he 
gave  the  name  which  he  might  well  have  used 
at  first,  or  at  least  employed  before  the  king's, 
the  name  of  Isabella.  Thus  the  discoverer 
went  on,  in  the  effusive  joy  of  his  first  com- 
munings with  this  renewed  Eden-world  of  na- 
ture, fulfilling  by  the  giving  of  these  names  the 
debts  of  gratitude  he  owed. 

Island  after  island  rose  before  him,  yet  he 
came  not  to  any  continent,  although  in  his  ig- 
norance of  the  true  extent  of  the  ocean  he 
imagined  himself  at  the  threshold  of  Eastern 
Asia,  and  about  to  realize  his  lifelong  dream 
of  finding  the  Indian  empire.  Feverishly  he 
sought  the  one  factor  that  could  lend  value  to 
his  discovery,  but  gold  was  rare  in  those  isl- 
ands, which  yielded  but  bloom  and  fruitage, 
heaped  as  by  enchantment  upon  the  billows 
of  the  Atlantic. 

But  let  us  follow  the  track  of  the  discoverer. 
On  October  12  Columbus  sighted  the  island  of 
San  Salvador.  On  the  15th,  he  sailed  toward 
the  island  he  named  Santa  Maria,  and  thence 
toward  Femandina.  October  19,  he  discovered 
Isabella,  In  the  first  two  of  these  he  was  es- 
pecially struck  by  the  primitive  and  natural 
state  of  the  islanders,  naked  yet  not  ashamed, 
who  gazed  upon  the  strange  objects  presented 
to  their  view  with  a  childlike  curiosity;  in  the 
second  he  remarked,  as  we  have  seen,  an  as- 
cent in  the  scale  of  life  denoted  by  the  pro- 
ducts of  a  rudimentary  industry ;  in  the  third 
island  a  purity  of  atmosphere,  a  mysterious 
ethereal  irradiation,  a  crystalUne  transparency 


of  the  waters,  a  sweeter  breath  of  bloom  and 
savor  of  fruitage,  and  such  rich  dyes  on  the 
far  horizon  as  enraptured  him,  and  filled  his 
body  with  a  new  life  and  his  soul  with  poesy. 
Among  its  vegetable  growths  he  particularly 
noted  the  lign-aloe,  and  among  animals  the 
iguana.  As  the  tree  comes  from  eastern  Asia, 
Columbus  gave  close  heed  to  it,  and  investi- 
gated its  abundance  in  those  fair  new-found 
fields.  With  knotty  trunk  and  fleshy  leaves,  its 
foliage  dark-colored  and  its  fruit  resembling 
cherries,  its  sap  bitter  and  the  gum  exuding 
from  its  fibers  and  the  perfume  shed  by  its 
wood  very  fragrant,  it  was  medicinally  known 
in  those  times,  as  Columbus  notes  in  his  diary  — 
that  record  of  whatever  singular  object  met  his 
keen  scrutiny.  No  less  worthy  of  note  was  the 
iguana,  an  exclusive  amphibious  product  of 
those  shores,  and  unknown  in  our  own  land, 
yielding  a  medicinal  oil,  and  eaten  by  the  na- 
tives and  even  by  the  discoverers  themselves. 
Las  Casas  says  they  saw  it  eaten,  but  partook 
not  of  so  repulsive  a  food ;  but  Acosta,  in  his 
"  History  of  the  Indies,"  after  mentioning  sev- 
eral other  articles  of  food,  exclaims,  "Much 
more  toothsome  is  the  iguana,  although  foul 
to  look  upon,  for  it  is  hke  the  lizard  of  Spain." 
In  traversing  those  seas,  two  contradictory  im- 
pressions possessed  the  discoverer  —  his  infinite 
delight  with  what  he  beheld  and  his  bitter  dis- 
appointment at  finding  nowhere  the  gold  he 
coveted.  He  notes  the  products  brought  by 
the  savages,  and  at  each  step  very  ingenuously 
and  sincerely  bewails  the  scarcity  of  the  wished- 
for  precious  metal.  The  first  tribe  he  met  of- 
fered him  balls  of  cotton  yarn,  gay  parrots, 
arrows, "  and  other  trifles  which  it  were  tedious 
to  write  down  "  ;  and  although  he  inquired  diU- 
gently  if  they  had  any  gold,  and  noted  how 
some  of  them  wore  a  bit  of  it  suspended  from 
their  pierced  nostrils,  he  found  nothing  of  value. 
He  asked  the  bedizened  natives  whence  they 
procured  their  gold,  and  from  their  responses, 
made  in  signs,  not  words,  he  inferred  the  exis- 
tence of  golden  sands  in  the  vicinity,  and  vases 
or  jars  of  gold  in  neighboring  lands  that  lay  to 
the  southward  and  were  ruled  by  a  powerful 
monarch.  Columbus  sought  to  induce  his  in- 
formants to  guide  him  to  this  new  El  Dorado, 
but  they  soon  convinced  him  that  they  knew 
nothing  whatever  about  the  journey.  Still, 
all  that  he  learned  and  saw  strengthened  his 
conviction  that  his  true  course  lay  toward  the 
south,  and  he  determined  to  steer  thither,  in 
the  firm  belief  that  he  should  speedily  encoun- 
ter the  island  of  Cipango  (Japan),  so  minutely 
described  by  Marco  Polo  as  a  rich  mine  of 
precious  metals,  situated  some  fifteen  hundred 
miles  from  the  mainland  of  India.  These  na- 
tives of  San  Salvador  swam  like  tritons  about 
his  ships,  offering  limpid  water  and  luscious 


CHRISTOPHER    COLUMBUS. 


685 


fruit,  but  not  a  grain  of  gold.  Only  Cipango 
could  supply  his  need.  But  still  he  found  not  the 
Croesus  of  Cipango,  nothing  but  more  savages 
at  Concepcion.  Nevertheless,  the  garrulous 
Indians  of  San  Salvador  had  told  him  how  the 
people  of  this  little  isle  wore  many  and  heavy 
rings  on  their  arms  and  ankles.  The  discov- 
erer gloomily  adds,  "  I  firmly  believe  they  said 
this  as  a  trick  to  get  rid  of  me."  Indeed,  hav- 
ing taken  several  Salvadoreans  on  board,  and 
an  Indian  found  in  a  canoe  between  San  Salva- 
dor and  Concepcion,  the  poor  wretches  sought 
flight  by  swimming,  despite  the  vigilance  of  the 
officers  and  crew.  For  instance,  one  of  the  sav- 
ages put  out  in  his  canoe  in  great  haste  for  the 
ships,  to  sell  his  precious  ball  of  cotton  yam. 
When  the  sailors  kindly  invited  him  on  board 
the  caravel,  he  obstinately  refused,  whereupon 
some  of  them  sprang  overboard  and  seized  him. 
The  admiral  called  the  Indian  to  the  quarter- 
deck, and,  divining  the  necessity  of  exciting 
the  curiosity  of  the  natives,  dressed  him  gro- 
tesquely like  a  Venetian  harlequin,  and  sent 
him  straightway  ashore.  They  set  a  gaudy  cap 
on  his  head,  beads  of  green  glass  on  his  wrists, 
pendants  of  gilded  and  jingling  hawk-bells  in 
his  ears,  and  so  they  sent  him  back,  that  the 
naked  inhabitants  might  see  what  manner  of 
men  their  visitors  were,  and  what  unknown 
marvels  they  brought. 

As  Columbus  advanced  he  was  gladdened 
by  fertile  islands,  a  limpid  sea,  brilliant  cliffs, 
balmy  air,  and  blue  sky ;  but  he  halted  not  for 
these,  pressing  ever  onward  in  search  of  virgin 
gold;  for  all  his  discoveries  hitherto  had  jdelded 
but  a  handful  of  bread,  a  gourd  of  water,  and  a 
bit  of  red  earth  rubbed  to  powder  and  smeared 
on  a  few  dried  leaves  as  an  ornament  in  high  es- 
timation, offered  by  a  poor  savage,  to  whom  the 
admiral  gave  honey  and  sweet  cakes  and  sent 
him  back  to  make  good  report  of  the  new- 
comers among  his  own  folk.  In  eftect,  the  In- 
dians of  all  those  islets,  divining  the  character 
of  their  guests  by  their  gifts  and  their  behavior, 
put  out  in  their  canoes,  offering  an  abundance 
of  fresh  spring-water,  which  Columbus  gladly 
accepted  to  replenish  his  casks,  and  were  well 
repaid  with  gaudy  tambourines  worth  perhaps  a 
maravedi  of  Castile,  and  trinkets  cheaper  still, 
and  candied  sweets.  Keeping  clear  of  the  reefs 
that  abound  in  the  Bahamas,  and  ever  hurrying 
on  in  quest  of  gold,  Columbus  circumnavigated 
the  islands  and  found  some  Indians  disposed  to 
barter,  who  offered  him  cotton  cloths.  Singu- 
lar trees,  wholly  unlike  those  at  home,  thick- 
stemmed  and  bearing  masses  of  pods  on  one 
side  and  reed-like  leaves  on  the  other;  fishes  of 
strangely  variegated  colors;  and  other  natural 
objects,  diverted  their  minds  from  the  poignant 
regrets  due  to  the  scarcity  of  gold.  At  other 
places  they  saw  dwellings  like  booths  or  the 


tents  of  a  European  encampment,  with  tall  and 
slender  chimneys;  but  by  far  the  most  marvel- 
ous sight  to  them  was  a  tiny  bit  of  gold,  worn 
as  a  nose-ring,  bearing  letters  stamped  upon  it 
— a  thing  to  be  followed  up,  but  which  unfor- 
tunately could  not  be  investigated  through  the 
failure  of  him  who  saw  it,  in  the  absence  of 
Columbus,  to  beg  or  buy  it. 

At  length,  on  October  18,  he  hoisted  sail 
at  daybreak  and  quitted  Fernandina.  He  had 
found  the  island  which  the  Indians  declared 
to  be  full  of  gold,  but  their  tales  had  proved 
untrue.  Now  and  then  a  tiny  fragment  had  been 
seen,  but  so  small  as  to  be  of  httle  worth.  And 
yet,  while  the  sad  reality  seemed  most  to  mock 
their  impatient  desires,  the  Indians  persevered 
in  their  reports  of  a  realm  ruled  by  a  fabulously 
wealthy  potentate,  clad,  they  said,  something 
after  the  Spanish  fashion,  with  garments  of  enor- 
mous price.  For  two  nights  Columbus  had 
awaited  the  apparition  of  this  bejeweled  mon- 
arch, to  bring  him  gold  in  its  native  purity;  but 
he  saw  naught  but  naked  Indians  of  the  same 
race  as  those  already  found,  painted  with  white 
and  scarlet  in  uniform  designs,  some  few  only  of 
whom  bore  little  bits  of  gold  in  their  noses, "  but 
so  little,"  says  Columbus,  "that  it  is  naught." 
The  sense  most  gratified  in  this  expedition  to 
Isabella  was  that  of  smell.  The  whole  island 
seemed  to  Columbus  one  vast  fruit  of  intoxicat- 
ing fragrance.  A  thousand  spice-groves  exhaled 
sweet  savors,  perfuming  the  breeze  for  many 
miles  about.  Strange  vegetation,  unknown 
odors,  and  fruits  of  luscious  flavor  abounded 
everywhere,  enchanting  sight  and  sense,  with- 
out their  discoverer  being  able  in  any  wise  to 
divine  their  qualities  or  give  them  a  name,  or 
even  to  classify  or  describe  them  with  any  ex- 
actness, for  want  of  previous  botanical  training 
— a  fact  he  bitterly  and  eloquently  bewails  in 
accents  that  even  now  move  us  to  pity,  height- 
ened as  they  are  by  the  long  lapse  of  time  and 
the  magnitude  of  an  achievement  that  greatens 
with  each  passing  century.  Neither  Salvador, 
nor  Concepcion,  nor  Fernandina,  nor  Isabella, 
nor  any  islet  of  those  encountered  in  that  tire- 
less voyage  and  so  attentively  circumnavigated, 
answered  to  the  phantasm  of  Cipango,  pictured 
by  the  medieval  chroniclers  and  seen  in  the 
fancy  of  Columbus  as  a  fragrant  paradise  and 
rich  storehouse  where  gold  and  gems  were  to 
be  gathered  in  handfuls.  So,  having  sailed 
through  those  regions  without  finding  the  gold 
he  sought,  it  seemed  to  him  that  he  should  no 
longer  tarry  there  in  idle  enjoyment,  but  press 
untiringly  onward  until  he  should  chance  upon 
some  land  of  greater  wealth,  such  as  the  famed 
Cuba,  whose  name  was  borne  on  every  breeze 
even  as  it  hung  on  every  lip. 

One  of  the  greatest  difficulties  in  the  dis- 
coverer's way  was  his  ignorance  of  the  several 


686 


CHRISTOPHER    COLUMBUS. 


tribal  dialects.  He  himself  says  that  he  had  to 
depend  entirely  on  signs,  it  being  utterly  impos- 
sible to  comprehend  the  spoken  words.  Thus 
he  mistook  the  word  bohio  for  a  city,  when  it 
means  any  kind  of  shelter;  he  blundered  in 
supposing  naca  to  be  the  Great  Khan  whose 
fame  ran  in  his  mind,  when  it  means  "  in  the 
midst  of,"  and  he  translated  ^d;/',?^/^^  as  "  empire  " 
without  thinking  in  his  ignorance  that  it  might 
mean  anything  else  under  heaven.  But  let  us 
go  on.  At  midnight  of  October  24  he  weighed 
anchor,  and  set  sail  from  Isabella  toward  the 
island  called  by  the  natives  Cuba,  but  which  he, 
misled  by  his  fantastic  charts,  called  Cipango. 
It  rained  and  blew  hard  all  that  night.  At  dawn 
the  storm  lulled.  A  gentle  breeze  succeeded  to 
the  howling  wind,  and  Columbus  spread  all  the 
canvas  of  his  caravel.  Squaresail,studdingsails, 
foresail,  spritsail,  mizzen,  topsail — every  cloth 
was  spread  and  the  quarter-boat  was  at  the 
davits.  Thus  he  sailed  until  nightfall,  when  the 
wind  freshened.  Not  knowing  his  bearings,  and 
fearing  to  run  for  the  island  in  the  dark  because 
of  the  abounding  shoals  and  reefs  on  which  he 
might  be  lost,  he  hove  to  and  waited  until 
dawn.  That  night  he  barely  made  two  leagues. 
On  the  25th,  he  sailed  from  sunrise  until  nine, 
running  some  five  leagues,  when  he  shifted  his 
course  to  the  westward,  making  eight  knots  an 
hour.  At  eleven,  eight  small  islands  were  sighted, 
which  he  called  Las  Arenas,  because  of  their 
sandy  beaches  and  the  shoalness  of  the  water  to 
the  south.  On  the  morning  of  October  27  he 
resolutely  headed  in  quest  of  Cuba,  but  at  night- 
fall a  heavy  rain  forced  him  to  lie  to.  On  the  2  8th 
he  entered  a  lovely  estuary,  free  from  dangerous 
rocks  and  shoals,  all  the  shores  he  skirted  being 
deep  and  the  water  of  exceeding  clearness.  Thus 
he  reached  a  river,  at  whose  mouth  he  found 
twelve  fathoms,  and  "never  so  fair  a  sight 
have  I  seen,  the  river  being  wholly  bordered 
with  trees,  very  beautiful  and  green,  being 
unlike  ours,  with  fruit  and  flowers,  each  after 
its  kind." 

Columbus  was  now  in  Cuba.  The  tropical 
horizon  bathed  in  the  intense  ether ;  the  Atlan- 
tic waters  half  azure  and  half  opalescent,  like 
a  gigantic  sheet  of  mother-of-pearl ;  the  gilded 
reefs  bright  with  nacreous  shells  ;  the  keys 
covered  with  aquatic  plants  and  swarming  with 
infusorial  life;  the  banks  of  the  river  fringed 
with  mighty  reeds  like  a  floating  garden;  in  the 
far  reaches  mountains  tinged  purple  and  lilac 
like  crystalline  masses  of  hght;  the  tangled  foli- 
age forming  an  impassable  rampart,  rich  with 


rainbow  colors ;  gorgeous  insects  like  winged 
gems  of  every  hue ;  the  giddy  fluttering  of  butter- 
flies whose  wings  gleamed  with  gold,  and  crim- 
son, and  azure,  and  every  prismatic  tint  till  they 
seemed  like  airy  garlands;  plants  of  a  thousand 
forms,  heavy  with  bloom,  bright  to  dazzle  the 
eye  and  fragrant  to  entrance  the  senses ;  thick 
masses  of  lianas  and  trailers  spread  like  Persian 
carpets  under  foot  and  drooping  like  Oriental 
tapestries  from  the  branches  overhead;  the 
quick  flight  of  humming-birds  and  parrakeets 
with  plumage  more  bright  than  Cathayan  silks ; 
the  choiring  of  nightingales  and  the  chirping 
of  crickets,  unheard  in  our  climes  in  the  au- 
tumn and  winter,  but  vocal  yonder  in  October ; 
the  broad-leaved  plantains,  heavy  and  rich  as 
velvet  hangings  and  borne  down  with  rosy  and 
golden  fruit ;  cocoa-palms  towering  skyward 
from  the  water's  edge ;  tree-ferns  guarding  the 
portals  of  the  trackless  virgin  forests  that  spread 
afar  like  a  sea  of  verdure,  in  whose  hollows  hung 
gauzy  vapors;  fields  of  maize  thick  with  tassels 
of  waving  gold  and  silken  tresses ;  the  massive 
logwood  with  its  deep-red  sap;  date-palms 
and  cherimoyers  bearing  exquisite  fruit ;  cacti 
towering  like  cedars;  mahoganyand  ebony  trees 
of  iron  hardness;  groves  of  orange  and  pome- 
granate ;  a  flood  of  ever-varied  foliage  and  an 
outpouring  of  animal  life;  heavy  odors  drifting 
afar  over  the  seas;  a  tangle  of  indescribable 
vegetation;  the  blended  murmur  of  the  rippling 
streams  and  the  trembling  leafage  —  all  this 
incredible  exuberance  must  have  moved  the 
weary  pilot  of  the  worn-out  world  as  painless 
Paradise  moved  the  sinless  Adam  when  he  arose 
at  the  divine  inbreathing  to  draw  into  his  veins 
the  mysterious  effluvia  of  universal  life. 

Would  you  comprehend  how  this  Cuba  af- 
fected Columbus  ?  Then  heed  not  those  writers 
who  would  bound  his  emotions  by  official 
phrases  remote  from  the  spot  and  the  time,  and 
ill  reflecting  the  discoverer;  go  to  the  man  him- 
self as  he  appears  in  his  private  journal.  This 
has  been  widely  pubhshed  and  is  familiar  to 
many.  Read  it  for  a  space,  and,  if  possible, 
read  it  in  the  original  Spanish;  which,  however 
marred  by  time  and  careless  transcription,  still 
breathes  the  first  feehngsof  the  discoverer.^  We 
have  heretofore  complained  of  the  bald  narra- 
tive bequeathed  to  us  of  the  landing  on  San 
Salvador.  We  said  that  we  could  glean  nothing 
from  that  monkish  scrivener's  report  to  repro- 
duce for  us  that  most  extraordinary  and  solemn 
moment  in  all  history,  which  closed  the  older 
epoch  and  ushered  in  a  new  age  for  nature  and 


1  The  journal  itself  is  lost.    As  late  as  1554  it  seems  quaint  conceits  of  the  original,  was  made  by  Samuel 

to  have  been  in  the  possession  of  Luis  Columbus.  The  Kettell,  on  the  suggestion  of  George  Ticknor,  and  was 

text  now  extant  is  an  abridgment  by  Padre  Las  Casas,  published  in  Boston  in  1827,  with  the  title,  "Personal 

and  was  first  printed  in  Navarrete's  "  Coleccion"  in  Narrative  of  the  First  Voyage  of  Columbus  to  America ." 

1825.  The  only  version  we  have  in  English,  somewhat  Copies  are  now  scarce,  even  in  the  larger  libraries, 

retrenched  and  not  always  happy  in  rendering  the  — TRANSLATOR. 


CHRISTOPHER    COLUMBUS. 


687 


for  the  spirit  of  man.  But  when  Columbus  comes 
to  Cuba,  he  ceases  to  cramp  his  feelings,  he 
represses  not  his  style,  he  sets  no  bounds  to  his 
admiration,  his  thoughts  break  into  lightning- 
flashes  like  those  of  some  inspired  poet  when 
the  frenzy  of  inspiration  is  on  him.  The  Colum- 
bian account  of  Cuba  may  not  be  comparable 
in  form  with  Milton's  description' of  Paradise 
or  Camoens's  portrayal  of  the  ocean ;  but  there 
is  in  it  a  simplicity  that  touches  the  sublime,  in 
that  it  lacks  efibrt  and  exaggeration,  so  that  we 
feel  and  know  that  he  who  penned  it  was  the 
discoverer  himself,  martyr  to  his  own  greatness, 
consumed  by  the  creative  fire  that  sheds  its 
beams  on  all  the  world  around,  but  destroys 
the  unhappy  possessor.  Whenever  Columbus 
praises  the  lands  he  found,  he  likens  them 
to  his  cherished  memories  of  gladsome  Anda- 
lusia and  sterner  Castile.  Not  once  does  he 
recall  his  own  Italy.  Although  bom  and  nur- 
tured on  the  fair  Ligurian  shores,  not  once  is 
he  reminded  of  their  delectable  valleys,  their 
celestial  peaks,  their  foam-capped  seas,  their 
marble  cliffs,  or  their  golden  sands  kissed  by 
siren-haunted  waves.  But  he  compares  Cuba 
with  a  very  similar  region,  with  that  Sicily 
which  was  the  theater  of  the  divine  deeds  of 
Hellenic  mythology.  Its  position  between  Italy 
and  Greece,  its  pellucid  waters,  its  azure  skies, 
its  shining  shores,  the  deep  clefts  of  its  valleys 
where  bloom  the  bay  and  myrtle  beloved  of 
the  olden  gods,  its  flaming  Etna  shooting  a  fiery 
glare  through  the  far  blue  skies,  and  with  its 
ashes  making  fruitful  the  stony  fields  —  all  these 
natural  contrasts  and  outward  manifestations 
of  life  lend  it  the  rare  attractiveness  to  which  it 
owes  the  choice  of  its  soil  as  a  fit  scene  for  the 
divine  story  of  Olympus,  Wherefore  Sicily,  at 
the  portals  of  the  Old  World,  typifies  the  past ; 
whilst  Cuba,  at  the  gateway  of  the  New  World, 
is  emblematic  of  the  future. 

Of  all  his  discoveries,  Cuba  aroused  in 
Columbus  the  deepest  emotions.  In  the  Lu- 
cayan  Bahamas  he  was  struck  by  the  primitive 
innocence  of  their  inhabitants  —  a  rare  and 
strange  thing,  in  truth — more  than  by  the  as- 
pects of  nature,  less  gigantic  and  less  beautiful 
than  in  Cuba.  His  pristine  discoveries  were 
mere  islets,  very  unlike  the  two  greater  islands 
found  at  the  close  of  this  first  voyage  and  hur- 
riedly explored  before  his  return  to  Spain. 
After  leaving  the  Lucayos  he  came,  as  we  have 
seen,  to  the  uninteresting  group  of  Las  Arenas. 
Yet  even  here  Columbus  studied  man  in  natu- 
ral preference  to  all  things  else.  These  naked 
tribes,  more  amenable  to  the  influences  of  kind- 
ness than  to  the  sway  of  force ;  amazed  at  see- 
ing a  gaudy  cap  or  hearing  the  tinkle  of  a 
hawk-bell  or  a  tambourine;  so  kindly  disposed 
that  they  swam  out  to  the  caravels,  bearing 
cotton  thread  and  parrakeets ;  so  light-hearted 


that  they  hung  the  gay  ribbons  and  beads 
about  their  necks  and  danced  to  show  their 
joy ;  poor  in  all  things,  for  they  went  as  their 
mothers  bore  them;  their  hair  thick  as  a  horse's 
mane  and  falling  in  long  locks  upon  their  shoul- 
ders; shapely  of  body  and  handsome  efface: 
straight  of  limb  and  slender  of  waist ;  painted 
some  with  black,  some  with  white,  but  more 
with  red,  their  own  complexion  being  that  of 
the  Canarians ;  so  ignorant  of  arms  that  they 
grasped  swords  by  the  blade,  and  so  unused 
to  field  labor  that  they  knew  not  the  mattock 
or  the  plow;  some  bearing  scars  as  showing 
that  man  and  warfare  are  born  together,  and 
that  combat  is  more  natural  to  him  than  toil ; 
without  other  creed  than  a  vague  behef  in  the 
supremacy  and  grandeur  of  heaven  —  they  ab- 
sorbed the  attention  of  Columbus,  and  plunged 
him  into  comparisons  bom  of  their  contrast  with 
the  Spaniards,  and  of  the  lot  which,  in  his  innate 
prescience,  he  foresaw  in  store  for  them  as  a  re- 
sult of  his  miraculous  advent.  In  his  observa- 
tions, hurriedly  sketched  and  therefore  the  more 
interesting,  such  notes  as  the  following  occur  in 
regard  to  his  first  visit  to  San  Salvador :  "  Of 
women  I  saw  but  one,  a  mere  girl ;  and  all  the 
men  I  saw  were  youthful,  for  none  saw  I  of  a 
greater  age  than  thirty  years."  In  another 
place  he  says :  "All  that  they  had  they  gave 
away  for  any  trifle  given  to  them,"  adding  that 
they  were  "  a  gentle  folk  enough,  desiring  to 
have  anything  of  ours,  yet  fearing  that  naught 
will  be  given  to  them  unless  they  give  some- 
thing, and  having  nothing  they  take  what  they 
may  and  forthwith  swim  away."  And  further 
on  he  adds,  speaking  of  their  ignorance  of 
trade  :  "  Yet  for  potsherds  and  bits  of  broken 
glass  cups  were  they  content  to  sell ;  and  even 
have  I  seen  sixteen  balls  of  cotton  given  for 
three  ceotis  of  Portugal,  which  is  a  blanca  [half 
a  maravedi]  of  Castile,  and  therein  was  more 
than  an  arroba  [25  pounds]  of  spun  cotton." 
Again  he  says :  "  In  the  eastern  part  of  the 
island  saw  I  many  women,  and  old  men  and 
children  which  I  saw  not  at  my  first  landing  " ; 
and  to  give  an  idea  of  their  simple  nature  he 
tells  how  "  some  brought  us  water,  others 
things  to  eat;  others,  when  they  saw  that  I 
went  not  ashore,  leaped  into  the  sea,  swim- 
ming, and  came,  and  as  we  supposed  asked 
us  if  we  were  come  from  heaven ;  and  there 
came  an  old  man  into  the  boat,  and  all,  men 
and  women,  in  a  loud  voice  erred  — '  Come 
and  see  the  men  who  came  from  heaven ; 
bring  them  food  and  drink.'  "  And  elsewhere, 
speaking  of  the  natives  of  Femandina,  he 
says :  "  These  folk  are  like  those  of  the  other 
islands,  and  of  the  same  speech  and  customs, 
save  that  these  seem  to  me  something  more 
domesticated  and  better  traders  and  keener, 
for  I  see  that  they  have  brought  cotton  and 


688 


CHRISTOPHER    COLUMBUS. 


other  things,  and  that  they  better  know  how 
to  chaffer  for  the  price  thereof." 

These  races,  so  foreign  to  the  ideas  and  be- 
hefs  of  the  time,  which  admitted  of  no  varia- 
tion from  the  bibUcal  account  of  the  Adamitic 
descent  of  man,  would  have  still  more  aston- 
ished Columbus  had  he  known  in  what  part 
of  the  globe  he  was,  and  not  supposed  that 
all  the  scattered  ocean-lands  he  met  belonged 
to  Asia.  But  in  Cuba  nature  diverts  his  at- 
tention from  man.  The  disemboguing  of  its 
rivers  in  the  sea;  the  surface  of  its  streams 
strewn  with  the  showered  petals  of  the  my- 
riad flowers  that  festoon  their  banks,  and 
the  trees  whose  interlocked  branches  gently 
shadow  their  current;  the  palm-trees,  unlike 
those  of  Guinea  or  of  Spain ;  the  giant  leaves 
thatching  the  tiny  huts,  the  grass  long  and 
rank  as  in  Andalusia's  April-  or  May-time ; 
the  strange  sorts  of  wild  purslane  and  ama- 
ranth ;  the  beautiful  mountain-ranges,  whereof 
none  stretch  far,  but  are  very  high;  the  swell- 
ing rivers  to  which  he  gave  the  names  of  the 
"Seas"  and  the  "  Moon";  the  gay-plumaged 
birds;  the  chirp  of  the  crickets  as  with  us  in 
summer ;  the  precipices  like  the  "  Lovers' 
Cliff"  in  Andalusia,  with  yet  other  crags  ris- 
ing above  them  with  such  regularity  as  to  ap- 
pear from  a  distance  like  some  great  Moorish 
temple;  the  cool  and  fragrant  groves;  the 
spices  and  aromatic  plants;  the  farinaceous 
tubers  called  iilames^  that  taste  like  sweet 
chestnuts;  the  bright-colored  and  dehcious 
beans ;  the  abundance  of  cotton  growing  wild 
on  the  hills,  and  bearing  all  the  year  round, 
for  he  saw  both  blossoms  and  opening  bolls 
on  the  same  bush;  the  mastic-gum,  far  better 
than  that  abounding  in  the  Grecian  archipel- 
ago ;  the  inexhaustible  aloes,  the  tufted  grasses, 
and  the  tobacco;  the  trees  wounded  to  extract 
their  resins  and  gums;  all  these,  appealing  to 
his  senses,  excited  him  to  an  enthusiasm  which 
would  assuredly  have  been  deeper  could  he 
have  foreseen  the  innumerable  benefits  to  flow 
to  mankind  from  his  discoveries,  and  the  riches 
far  beyond  gold  which  they  threw  open  to  the 
world's  trade. 

His  journal,  during  the  fortnight  in  which 
he  describes  Cuba  and  its  scenes,  reads  like  a 
poem  —  and  to  be  convinced  of  this  you  have 
only  to  set  it  by  the  side  of  similar  descriptions 
found  in  the  greatest  of  the  world's  epics.  The 
oldest  narrative  of  this  sort  is  that  told  by 
Ulysses  ioArei/iea  in  her  royal  palace.  Though 
heightened  by  the  rhythmic  flow  of  the  Homeric 
verse,  the  "Odyssey"  cannot  even  remotely 
compare  in  interest  with  the  tale  of  Columbus. 
The  magical  dwelling  of  the  enchantress  Ca- 
lypso finds  no  parallel  in  these  Antillean  seas, 

1  Yams,  not  sweet  potatoes  as  most  writers  explain. 
— Translator. 


nor  can  the  Ogygian  growths  compare  with 
this  harvest  of  strange  products  to  nourish  the 
human  race  and  increase  its  powers  an  hun- 
dredfold. Another  epic,  the  immortal  story  of 
^neas,  may  excel  our  discoverer's  narration 
in  literary  merit,  but  it  sinks  beneath  it  in  his- 
torical and  social  interest.  Although  Virgil  has 
therein  aimed  to  mingle  the  combats  of  the 
"Iliad"  and  the  voyage  of  the  "Odyssey,"  its 
epic  subjects  cannot  compare  with  that  pre- 
sented by  the  coral  reefs  which  at  the  mighty 
spell  of  Columbus  arise  under  the  beams  of  a 
new  sun  from  the  Shadowy  Sea,  filled  with  un- 
known races,  and  destined  not  only  to  enlarge 
the  bounds  of  earth,  but  the  mind  of  man  as 
well.  The  waters  plowed  by  ^neas  in  that 
far-off  age  had  already  been  cloven  by  many 
prows,  whilst  the  virgin  waters  which  Columbus 
sailed,  save  for  a  few  frail  canoes  that  ventured 
not  out  of  sight  of  land,  had  never  felt  keel 
upon  their  vast  and  wayless  surface,  nor  borne 
the  navies  and  the  arms  of  a  great  and  advanced 
navigation. 

No  poet  of  the  Old  World  or  the  New  so 
gifted  as  Camoens  to  sing  the  epic  of  sea  dis- 
coveries. The  motive  of  his  "  Lusiad  "  has  much 
in  common  with  our  discoverer's  journal.  Por- 
tugal anticipated  and  kept  pace  with  us  in 
expanding  ocean's  bounds  and  finding  vast 
continents.  Whilst  Spain  was  exploring  the 
unknown  seas  whence  the  new  world  of  America 
arose,  the  explorations  of  Portugal  found  their 
reward  in  the  olden  lands  of  Asia.  That  teem- 
ing era  of  Lusitania  brought  forth  alike  the 
pilot-discoverers  and  the  poet  to  sing  their 
deeds.  A  living  poem  in  sooth  was  that  appari- 
tion of  the  Indies  regained  for  Europe  by  the 
sea- Alexanders  of  the  West.  Camoens  begins 
his  poem  by  declaring  that  the  fame  of  his 
Vasco  shall  forever  dim  ^neas's  glory.  How 
marvelous  to  behold,  in  the  Rome  of  Leo  X., 
bound  in  the  golden  chains  of  Portugal,  the 
elephants  and  leopards  that  in  bygone  days 
had  filled  the  arenas  of  the  Caesars  in  token 
of  the  subjection  of  ah  earth  to  the  Eternal 
City.  Oriental  pearls  and  rubies,  Moluccan 
cloves,  Sumatran  gold,  the  cinnamon  of  Sima- 
hala,  the  camphor  of  Ormuz,  the  indigo  of 
Bombay,  amazed  all  Christendom  at  the  same 
time  that  the  poesy  of  Portugal  grew  strangely 
exalted  and  exuberant.  Camoens  possessed 
the  stature  to  produce,  like  a  fabled  Titan,  the 
Cyclopean  epic  that  sang  the  new  birth  of  the 
globe,  and  to  be  fit  compeer  of  the  colossal 
Vasco  da  Gama,  who,  modem  though  he  be, 
seems  like  some  mythical  deity  by  his  marvel- 
ous discovery  of  the  East  Indies.  But  the  traits 
of  the  Renaissance  enfeebled  Camoens.  A  true 
son  of  his  age,  he  saw  all  things  through  the 
enduring  traditions  of  the  classic  Muse.  There- 
fore, Olympus  is  the  supernatural  mainspring 


CHRISTOPHER    COLUMBUS. 


689 


of  his  poem,  and  ancient  art  gives  it  form. 
But  the  spirit  of  ancient  art  was  dead,  and  in 
its  stead  the  Church  ruled  the  human  soul,  so 
that  a  poem  in  which  the  Greek  gods  moved 
and  acted  could  at  best  be  only  archaeological 
and  erudite,  although  it  becomes  popular  and 
epic  when  it  sings  the  story  of  Lusitania  in  by- 
gone days  and  in  that  Renaissance  time.  More 
genuinely  poetical  appear  to  me  the  mass  cele- 
brated in  that  Franciscan  convent  on  the  high 
headland  of  La  Rabida;  the  "Ave  Maria" 
heard  along  the  shores  of  Guadalquivir  and 
Cadiz  on  the  evening  of  the  day  the  discoverer 
sailed  from  the  mouth  of  the  Odiel  toward  the 
Shadowy  Sea;  the  hymns  to  the  Virgin  on  the 
caravel's  deck  as  the  first  stars  twinkled  in  the 
west  or  the  full  moon  flooded  the  rippled  sea; 
the  echoes  of  the  "Ave  maris  Stella  "  blending 
with  the  voices  of  ocean;  the  "Te  Deums" 
sung  on  sighting  land  and  on  disembarking, 
and  the  sublime  thanksgiving  of  Columbus  for 
the  happy  end  of  his  voyage,  than  the  appari- 
tion of  Mercury  to  Vasco  to  warn  him  against 
the  perils  awaiting  him  at  Mombaza,  the  fabu- 
lous rising  of  Venus  among  the  isles  of  India, 
or  the  presence  of  any  gods  dead  for  a  thou- 
sand years  to  human  conscience  and  powerless 
to  rekindle  with  poetic  fire  the  cold  ashes  of 
worn-out  beliefs.  On  the  other  hand,  Ca- 
moens  is  epic  in  the  highest  degree,  worthy 
of  a  place  beside  Homer,  often  superior  to 
Virgil,  more  natural  than  Tasso  and  Milton, 
when,  as  his  forerunner  Dante  had  evoked 
the  supernatural  world  of  the  middle  ages,  he 
evokes  the  world  of  nature,  new-bom  in  that 
paschal  time  of  the  Renaissance,  and  offers 
in  lofty  strains  the  story  of  Lusitania,  the  de- 
scription of  the  races  discovered  by  his  fel- 
low-countryman, and,  therewithal,  the  poesy 
of  the  sea;  now  picturing  the  making  ready  and 
the  launching  forth  to  face  peril  and  trial,  amid 
the  tears  of  those  on  shore;  now  the  cleansing 
of  the  hulls  from  weeds  and  barnacles  in  the 
ports;  now  the  waves  pallid  beneath  the  hght- 
ning  glare ;  now  the  waterspout  whirling  madly 
aloft,  and  bearing  thick  floods  in  its  vast  bosom. 
If  Camoens  prevails  and  endures  among  the 
epic  poets  of  the  Renaissance  above  the  de- 
lirious Ariosto,  the  artificial  Tasso,  and  the 
satirical  Pulci,  it  is  because  he  sings  nature, 
rejuvenated  by  the  discoveries  of  Portugal.  To 
what  heights  might  he  not  have  risen,  had 
he  not  been  circumscribed  by  the  narrow  pa- 
triotism of  his  Portuguese  nature,  and  had 
he,  inspired  aright  by  the  glory  of  the  whole 
peninsula,  given  us  the  incredible  discovery 
of  America  by  the  mighty  genius  of  Colum- 
bus !  Recognizing  his  merits  as  I  do,  I  aver 
that  there  is  not  in  all  his  verse,  polished  and 
inspired  though  it  be,  any  utterance  of  Vas- 
co^ s  so  deeply  human  as  the  unstudied  record 


of  the  emotions  of  Columbus  on  beholding 
Cuba. 

The  only  place  where  I  find  aught  approach- 
ing the  description  of  Cuba  by  Columbus  is  in 
the  English  Roundhead  poem  of  "  Paradise 
Lost."  Adam's  self-communings  in  Eden  have 
in  them  somewhat  of  our  pilot's  artless  tale  of 
the  splendid  tropical  life  of  Cuba ;  but  I  dis- 
cern therein  a  defect  which  also  mars  the  "Lu- 
siad."  As  the  garden  to  which  Vasco\fA.A?>Veiuis 
is  cut  and  trimmed  in  the  style  of  Virgil  or 
Theocritus,  so  the  Eden  of  Milton  is  like  a  smug 
English  park  of  the  seventeenth  century. 

Having  thus  contemplated  the  feehngs  be- 
gotten in  Columbus  by  the  wondrous  sum  of 
Cuba's  aspects,  let  us  follow  him  step  by  step 
in  his  explorations.  Let  us  not  lose  sight  of 
the  fact  that  the  discoverer  at  one  and  the 
same  time  tells  of  his  impressions  of  the  na- 
tives, and  of  the  impressions  formed  by  them 
of  their  visitors  —  heaven-sent,  as  they  ima- 
gined in  their  innocence.  In  this  regard  the 
Spaniards  did  not  inspire  the  native  Cubans 
with  such  a  blind  trustfulness  as  the  other 
islanders  had  shown.  Far  from  thronging  to 
them  in  adoration,  they  fled  and  hid  away,  as 
from  evil  spirits.  Although  they  possessed  ca- 
noes of  considerable  capacity,  they  concealed 
them  in  the  cane-brakes.  But  Columbus,  be- 
ing a  born  explorer,  did  not  yield  to  such 
tokens  of  fear ;  rather  was  he  stimulated  to 
seek  the  cause  of  this  troubled  apprehension. 
He  landed  on  the  shores  of  the  bay  where  his 
ships  lay  anchored,  and  made  careful  search 
in  every  quarter.  The  first  two  dwellings  he 
found  were  deserted  by  their  timid  inhabitants, 
but  filled  with  household  articles  showing  their 
recent  occupancy.  Like  the  huts  of  the  islands 
previously  visited,  they  were  built  of  plaited 
palm-fronds  in  the  shape  of  tents.  Fishing-nets, 
barbed  harpoons,  worn  hooks  of  bone,  all  the 
implements  of  fishery  he  saw,  led  him  to  sup- 
pose himself  in  a  cleanly  and  tidy  fishing  set- 
tlement, like  those  of  some  European  shore. 
Their  large  size  and  ample  hearths,  indicat- 
ing rudimentary  culture,  caused  him  to  form 
optimistic  anticipations  touching  the  region 
where  he  had  landed.  Some  kind  of  mystical 
notation  seemed  to  exist,  since  to  the  repeated 
inquiries  of  Columbus  about  the  empire  of 
Cathay  and  the  Great  Khan,  the  Indians  an- 
swered that  the  land  was  watered  by  ten  great 
rivers,  and  that  ten  days'  sail  separated  them 
from  the  mainland.  But,  as  Padre  Las  Casas 
acutely  remarks,  either  Columbus  misunder- 
stood these  Indians,  or  they  hed  to  him,  for 
the  mainland  now  called  Florida  lay  less  than 
five  days  distant.  It  was,  however,  impossible 
to  cruise  in  search  of  other  lands  without  as- 
certaining  somewhat   of  their  position   and 


690 


CHRISTOPHER    COLUMBUS. 


character.  Habituated  to  see  human  society 
organized  on  a  monarchical  basis,  he  inquired 
persistently  for  the  king  of  that  great  realm, 
whom  he  conjectured  to  be  in  constant  inter- 
course with  the  Khan,  himself  the  ruler  of  a 
mercantile  empire.  He  wandered  thus  until 
vesper-time,  finding  several  well-built  villages, 
all  utterly  abandoned,  for  their  inhabitants  had 
fled  in  terror  to  the  uplands  at  the  sight  of 
the  caravels.  In  these  houses  the  explorers 
found,  besides  the  customary  utensils,  long, 
neatly  made  settles,  fashioned  like  beds,  with 
somewhat,  skilfully  carved  head-pieces.  They 
also  found  images  rudely  representing  the  fe- 
male form,  and  some  domesticated  wild-fowl. 
Columbus  permitted  nothing  to  be  disturbed, 
in  order  not  to  arouse  resentment  or  distrust 
in  the  minds  of  the  natives.  In  his  habit  of 
comparing  all  that  he  beheld  in  this  new  world 
with  the  things  of  the  old,  he  supposed  he  saw 
the  dried  heads  of  cows,  but  was  mistaken,  in- 
asmuch as  these  animals  were  there  unknown ; 
in  reality  the  skulls  were  those  of  the  manatee, 
an  aquatic  mammal,  and  resembled  heifers' 
heads  in  size  and  shape.  Their  flesh  was  found 
to  be  palatable,  in  firmness  and  flavor  some- 
thing like  beef.  In  these  excursions  Pinzon  at- 
tempted to  glean  information  from  the  natives, 
but  so  confusedly  that  he  supposed  Cuba  to  be 
a  city  when  it  was  the  name  of  the  whole  island, 
and  to  be  joined  to  the  mainland  instead  of  be- 
ing sea-girt ;  and  the  word  Giianacdn  to  mean 
the  imperial  Khan  of  India,  when  it  merely 
denoted  a  neighboring  district.  The  flight  of 
the  natives  hindered  them  from  obtaining  even 
such  shght  details  as  these,  and  they  sent  out 
an  Indian  whom  they  had  brought  with  them 
from  the  first-found  island,  charging  him  to  quiet 
the  distrust  of  the  natives  and  to  induce  them 
to  trade  with  the  newcomers,  who,  far  from 
seeking  to  despoil  them  of  their  belongings, 
offered  them  marvels  from  distant  celestial  re- 
gions. The  Indian  swam  ashore,  and  in  a  loud 
voice  proclaimed  his  novel  mission,  whereupon 
two  natives  appeared,  embracing  him  and  car- 
rying him  to  the  nearest  hut,  where  his  reas- 
suring words,  backed  by  the  proofs  of  good 
will  he  brought  with  him,  persuaded  many  of 
the  islanders  to  accompany  him  to  the  dreaded 
ships,  in  great  canoes,  carrying  balls  of  cotton 
thread  and  other  articles  of  barter.  Columbus 
ordered  his  crew  to  touch  nothing,  and  con- 
fined himself  to  inquiring  for  gold.  But  even 
in  this  simple  matter  a  misunderstanding  arose, 
for  he  supposed  the  word  nucay  to  mean  gold, 
when  the  Indians  really  called  xlcaona.  But,  call 
it  by  what  name  they  would,  it  was  nowhere  to 
be  found,  being  as  rare  as  on  the  other  islands. 
Gold  being  the  only  proof  they  could  give  in 
Castile  of  the  treasures  they  had  found,  it  was 
humanly  impossible  to  abandon  the  search  for 


the  metal ;  and  so  they  sent  fresh  envoys  in- 
land, to  wit :  Rodrigo  of  Jerez,  a  townsman 
of  Ayamonte,  and  Luis  de  Torres,  a  converted 
Jew,  who  had  served  the  Adelantado  of  Mur- 
cia,  and  who  knew  many  Semitic  tongues.  By 
means  of  these,  with  two  natives  who  went  with 
them,  the  explorers  felt  sure  of  finding,  first  the 
king  of  the  island,  and  then  its  gold.  These 
envoys  journeyed  twelve  leagues,  and  came  to 
a  sort  of  city  of  about  a  thousand  souls.  Greater 
courtesy  than  that  natural  to  these  people  it 
would  be  hard  to  imagine.  They  lodged  their 
visitors  hospitably,  and  strove  to  show  them 
attention.  Reverently  they  touched  their  hands 
and  kissed  their  feet,  believing  them  heaven- 
sent. With  unstinted  liberality,  they  offered 
them  such  food  as  they  had.  They  seated  them 
in  the  places  of  honor,  while  they  squatted  on 
the  ground  about  them.  The  women  gathered 
in  an  outer  circle.  When  they  had  heard  the 
report  of  the  two  Guanahani  Indians  touching 
the  Christians,  they  implored  them  to  dwell 
among  them.  They  could  not  make  out  a  word 
of  the  languages  spoken  by  Torres;  neither 
could  he,  however  versed  in  the  Oriental 
tongues,  understand  anything  of  their  speech. 
Nothing  was  wanting  save  for  the  Indians  to 
worship  the  Spaniards.  Although  the  admiral 
had  suppHed  the  envoys  with  charts  and  speci- 
mens of  European  minerals  and  spices  to  offer 
to  the  chief  as  to  a  monarch  in  covenant  of 
friendship  and  commerce,  they  accomplished 
nothing,  being  at  length  convinced  that  they 
had  only  an  agglomeration  of  men  to  deal  with, 
destitute  of  the  elements  of  social  organization 
that  make  up  true  civic  societies.  So  emotional 
were  the  natives,  prone  to  admiration  border- 
ing on  idolatry  and  ready  to  yield  the  strangers 
a  service  akin  to  slavery,  that  they  followed 
these  envoys,  whose  speech  was  sealed  to  them, 
in  the  assurance  that  they  would  lead  them  to 
the  heaven  whence  they  had  come.  They  might 
have  taken  five  hundred  of  them  had  they 
wished,  but  they  contented  themselves  with 
covenanting  for  the  company  of  the  chief  vil- 
lager, his  son,  and  one  other  native.  The  young 
chief  visited  Columbus  with  great  courtesy, 
looked  with  indifference  upon  the  gifts  they 
offered  him,  so  unlike  anything  he  had  ever 
known,  and  quitted  him,  saying  he  would  re- 
turn the  following  morning  —  but  he  never 
came  back.  Columbus  doubtless  regretted  hav- 
ing allowed  him  to  depart,  since  he  took  five 
Indians  of  both  sexes  on  board  his  ship,  and 
even  the  husband  of  a  captured  Indian  woman, 
who  came  to  the  caravel  and  begged  to  be  taken 
aboard.  Here  Padre  Las  Casas,  the  historian 
of  the  expedition,  who  is  universally  consulted 
as  an  authority,  waxes  oracular,  and,  some- 
what like  the  German  professors  of  our  day, 
appeals  to  international  and  natural  law  against 


CHRISTOPHER    COL  UMB  US. 


691 


f 


this  proceeding,  which  he  harshly  censures  as 
an  act  of  conquest;  while  Columbus,  the  peace- 
ful conqueror  of  these  tribes,  mentions  the  inci- 
dent as  if  it  were  the  most  natural  thing  in  the 
world,  and  his  simple  narrative  exhibits  not  the 
sHghtest  trace  of  remorse.  Among  all  the  his- 
torians who  wrote  soon  after  the  discovery, 
none  so  passionately  and  enthusiastically  de- 
fends Columbus  as  Las  Casas;  but  in  presence 
of  a  fact  to  him  so  incredible  as  the  criminal 
kidnapping  of  unofiending  families,  the  chroni- 
cler indignantly  rebels.  He  admits  the  good 
intention  of  the  sublime  pilot;  but  to  this  vio- 
lation of  natural  rights  and  eternal  justice  he 
charges  all  the  afflictions  that  later  overwhelmed 
Columbus,  holding  them  to  have  been  a  terrible 
and  deserved  punishment.  In  his  stoical  phi- 
losophy, heightened  by  his  monastic  tempera- 
ment, he  declares  that  good  is  only  to  be 
wrought  through  good,  and  that  the  desired 
end,  however  pure,  is  never  to  be  attained  by 
wrongful  acts;  so  that  to  the  padre  the  discov- 
ery seems  good  and  the  conquest  evil,  as  though 
the  two  were  not  correlative,  and  as  though, 
in  the  ill-starred  inheritance  of  our  race  and 
through  all  the  sad  pages  of  our  history,  stained 
by  dark  and  baleful  deeds  to  which  even  slavery 
itself  seems  merciful,  man  had  not  ever  ruth- 
lessly exterminated  man  in  the  implacable  fury 
of  hatred  and  the  horrors  of  perpetual  combat. 
Columbus,  who  had  come  to  Cuba  filled  with 
the  dreams  of  hope,  found  not  in  Cuba  the  gold 
he  so  ardently  sought  as  a  tangible  evidence 
of  his  marvelous  achievement.  On  the  alert 
for  any  hint  given  by  the  natives,  he  blunder- 
ingly believed  every  conjecture  gleaned  from 
their  uncomprehended  speech,  when  it  seemed 
to  confirm  his  own  imaginings.  The  Indians 
said  "  Babeque,"  and  he  fancied  he  recognized 
the  title  they  gave  to  the  golden  empires  fig- 
ured on  the  maps  of  that  fantastic  age  and 
limned  in  his  own  confused  cosmology.  Pass- 
ing from  one  false  interpretation  to  another,  at 
length  he  came  to  believe  that  another  shore 
was  near,  whose  inhabitants  were  covered  with 
ornaments  of  massy  gold,  and  yet  other  lands 
peopled  by  a  race  resembling  the  Cyclops  fa- 
bled of  old,  having  but  one  eye  set  above  a 
dog's  muzzle.  He  went  on,  ever  in  quest  of 
these  treasures  and  marvels.  Having  met  with 
chilly  weather,  as  might  be  expected  in  Novem- 
ber and  December,  hebore  eastward  and  south- 
ward. In  this  voyage  everything  allured  and 
enchanted  him :  the  serene  skies,  the  celestial 
water,  the  graceful  headlands,  the  deep  and 
calm  bays,  so  pellucid  and  tranquil  as  to  elicit 
his  lively  admiration;  the  island  groups,  Hke 
heavenly  constellations  —  all  these  our  new  pil- 
grim of  nature  beheld,  absorbing  their  vitality 
as  a  sponge  absorbs  water.  Yet  the  manifold 
beauties  and  lovely  changeful  aspects  of  the 


Cuban  landscape  only  intensified  his  keen  dis- 
appointment at  finding  no  gold. 

November  19,  he  sailed  in  search  of  the 
new  region  toward  Puerto  Principe,  where  he 
erected  a  cross.  He  intended  to  sail  along  the 
coast,  to  gain  a  better  knowledge  of  the  land 
that  lay  in  sight,  while  seeking  that  other  realm 
pictured  in  fancy ;  but  strong  head-winds  that 
bafiied  and  drove  him  upon  dangerous  shoals 
constrained  him  to  stand  out  to  sea.  And  now 
befell  the  greatest  misfortune  of  his  voyage  — 
the  parting  company  with  his  lieutenant,  that 
matchless  pilot  and  unequaled  organizer,  to 
whose  efforts  the  successful  outfitting  of  the 
expedition  was  mainly  due,  and  whose  firmness 
had  overcome  all  obstacles  in  its  path.  The 
thirst  for  glory  and  gain  which  our  race  inher- 
its; the  inevitable  insubordination  of  those 
natures  who  fancy  themselves  born  to  com- 
mand, not  to  obey ;  the  temptation  to  forestall 
Columbus  in  the  quest  for  the  golden  shores, 
and  elevate  himself  by  reaping  the  harvest  now 
that  his  captain  had  won  the  fame  of  the  dis- 
covery, led  Pinzon  to  an  act  whence  sprang 
all  his  subsequent  disasters.  The  admiral,  how- 
ever, was  not  disconcerted  by  this.  As  often 
as  the  wind  allowed  he  stood  toward  the  land, 
and  again  made  the  ofting,  entranced  alike  by 
the  magic  vistas  of  shore  and  sea.  Poetical 
and  sensitive  by  nature,  he  never  tired  of  gaz- 
ing upon  the  v^'aters,  to  which  he  gave  the  name 
of  "  Our  Lady's  Sea,"  or  upon  the  calm  bosom 
of  the  limpid  rivers,  the  blossom-laden  banks, 
the  rocky  cliffs  gilded  and  glittering  like  illu- 
sive hopes,  the  pine-woods  exhaling  balm,  the 
amber-like  gums,  the  delectable  brooks  below 
contrasting  with  the  peaks  far  above  and  bright 
with  evanescent  hues,  the  intermingling  of 
palms  and  cedars,  the  countless  quiet  bays  lake- 
like in  beauty  and  like  havens  in  their  repose, 
the  canoes  floating  by  the  shores  or  drawn  up 
on  land  and  concealed  by  leafage,  the  unclad 
Indians  indistinguishable  save  by  their  varied 
painting  and  fanciful  head-gear  of  feathers,  the 
emotions  awakened  in  those  savages  at  the 
sight  of  the  Spaniards,  white  and  thick-bearded, 
cased  in  armor  which  they  imagined  to  be 
the  natural  covering  of  their  bodies,  and  ap- 
parently descended  from  some  higher  celestial 
sphere  to  mingle  with  puny  mortals  on  the 
lowly  earth. 

At  length  Columbus  reached  the  most  east- 
erly point  of  Cuba,  and  there  he  learned  that 
before  him  lay  another  island,  called  by  tlie 
natives  Haiti  —  the  lofty  land.  Columbus,  who 
kept  on  giving  new  names  at  will  to  the  islands 
he  found,  called  Cuba  Isla  Juana,  in  memory  of 
the  ill-fated  prince  Don  John,  later  to  be  cut 
down  in  the  flower  of  young  manhood  when 
abc^t  to  unite  Spain  and  Portugal  as  his  pa- 
rents had  united  Castile  and  Aragon.    Before 


692 


CHRISTOPHER    COLUMBUS. 


he  sighted  Haiti  he  cast  about  for  a  name  to 
bestow  upon  it,  not  rightly  apprehending  the 
import  of  the  Indian  word.  He  discovered  it 
December  5,  1492,  after  sailing  eastward  six- 
teen leagues  from  the  extremity  of  Cuba,  He 
was  much  struck  by  its  resemblance  to  Spain. 
Soles  and  red  mullet  were  caught  in  its  waters; 
asphodel  and  arbutus  blossomed  on  the  up- 
lands; on  the  hillsides  stretched  dense  oak- 
forests,  and  in  their  deep  intervales  lay  neat, 
well-tended  gardens,  familiar  plants  of  dark- 
green  foliage  festooned  the  streams;  and  the 
cone-filled  pine  crested  the  heights,  while  huts 
much  like  our  own  were  seen.  These  resem- 
blances led  Columbus  to  give  it  the  name  of 
Espahola  (Hispaniola),  in  harmony  with  his 
reawakened  memories  of  the  mother-country. 
The  natives  appeared  to  be  fairer  of  skin  than 
those  seen  before,  and  higher  in  culture.  They 
fled,  like  the  rest,  but  came  back  at  the  call  of 
the  Spaniards.  Two  chiefs  were  soon  met  with, 
and  the  Spaniards  learned  that  they  were  called 
caciques  throughout  the  islands.  The  first  and 
younger  of  them  was  timid  and  shy,  but  the 
second  confident  and  accessible  to  every  emo- 
tion. They  came  in  procession,  carried  upon 
litters,  in  great  pomp  and  with  a  numerous  fol- 
lowing. They  went  on  board  without  distrust, 
and  with  well-bred  courtesy  took  seats  at  the 
admiral's  table.  When  offered  refreshments, 
they  ceremoniously  tasted  of  the  delicacies, 
and  shared  them  with  their  attendants,  who  de- 
voured them  greedily.  More  gold  was  found 
in  this  island  than  in  the  others,  nose-jewels 
worn  by  the  women,  and  even  thin  plates,  but 
all  of  small  size  and  infrequent.  No  wonder  that 
all  December  was  agreeably  spent  by  Colum- 
bus between  Espahola  and  Tortuga,  gathering 
information  and  naming  the  country.  The  first 
port  in  which  he  cast  anchor,  as  fair  as  any  of 
Cuba,  he  called  San  Nicolas,  having  landed 
there  on  that  saint's  day ;  the  second  he  called 
Concepcion,  the  third  St.  Thomas.  As  in  all 
the  spots  thus  far  visited,  the  Indians  fled  at 
the  coming  of  the  Spaniard.  But  when  the 
fugitives  were  called  back  by  their  fellow- In- 
dians whom  Columbus  had  brought  with  him, 
they  returned  and  began  to  examine  and  touch 
the  visitors,  although  fighting  shy  of  them,  tim- 
orous of  every  gesture  and  frighted  at  the 
sHghtest  sign,  yet  acceptmg  the  most  trifling 
gifts  with  simple  confidence,  and  exhibiting  the 
greatest  dehght  thereat.  In  Espahola  they 
found  a  cacique  of  more  importance  than  any 
before  met.  His  name  was  Guacanagari.  He 
was  distinguished  from  the  rest  by  his  greater 
interest  in  the  new  order  of  things  heralded  by 
his  guests,  and  by  his  reverential  treatment 
of  them,  as  though  strangely  forecasting  the 
changes  their  advent  was  to  bring.  There  ^re 
five  other  chiefs  in  the  island,  and  Guacanagari 


ruled  over  the  northern  part,  where  the  cara- 
vels then  were.  At  the  first  offers  of  barter  he 
displayed  a  wealth  and  authority  above  what 
they  had  witnessed  hitherto.  The  Indians  had 
been  in  the  habit  of  offering  girdles  to  their 
guests  in  sign  of  friendship,  and  Guacanagari 
gave  one  of  notable  magnificence.  Composed 
of  three  folds  of  cotton  cloth,  so  thick  and 
closely  woven  that  an  arquebus  could  scarcely 
have  pierced  it,  it  was  ornamented  with  coral, 
shells,  and  pearls,  and  at  the  side  hung  a  gro- 
tesque mask  with  eyeballs  and  tongue  of  pure 
gold.  An  embassy  from  the  chief  brought  this 
gift,  and  Columbus  spent  the  whole  day  en- 
deavoring to  interpret  the  signs  made  by  the 
envoys  in  offering  him  all  he  might  desire. 
Guacanagari  was  eager  to  see  more  of  the 
Spaniards,  and  sent  numbers  of  his  light- 
hearted  people  to  welcome  them  and  bring 
them  gifts  of  every  sort.  Their  enthusiasm  was 
unbounded,  their  generosity  unstinted.  The 
land  was  gay  with  festivities,  the  sea  swarmed 
with  canoes.  On  nearing  the  caravels,  the  In- 
dians that  crowded  them  stood  up,  tendering 
all  kinds  of  offerings  with  gestures  of  devotion, 
as  in  idolatrous  worship. 

Beholding  all  this  enthusiasm,  Columbus 
despatched  a  formal  embassy  to  Guacanagari, 
and  on  hearing  their  report  he  determined, 
despite  the  prevailing  land-breeze,  to  weigh 
anchor  and  sail  to  the  dominions  of  his  friends, 
which  were  some  five  leagues  distant.  He  set 
out  at  daybreak  on  December  24.  Little  pro- 
gress was  made  during  all  that  day.  The  night 
came,  Christmas  Eve,  and  Columbus  deter- 
mined to  celebrate  it,  as  best  befitted  his  own 
health  and  the  comfort  of  his  own  crew,  by  en- 
joying a  sound  sleep.  He  retired,  worn  out  by 
three  nights  of  vigil  following  three  days  of 
herculean  labor.  Sweet  must  have  been  his 
rest!  His  discovery  of  that  new  world  whose 
very  existence  had  been  denied,  the  endless  up- 
springing  of  Eden-isles,  the  simple  races  bound 
to  nature  by  such  mysterious  ties  and  soon  to 
be  brought  into  the  fold  of  civilization  and 
Christianity,  must  have  filled  his  mind  with 
happy  dreams  on  this  the  first  restful  Christmas 
Eve  he  had  passed  in  thirty  years  of  titanic  con- 
test with  all  the  world,  and  at  times  even  with 
his  own  self.  It  was  midnight,  when  the  echoes 
of  childhood  and  of  times  long  past  fill  the 
slumbering  ear.  The  heavens  smiled,  and  the 
sea  was  calm.  The  sailors  slept  soundly,  sure  of 
their  bearings  and  sea-room  because  preceded 
by  the  little  fleet  of  skiffs  and  canoes  sent  by 
Columbus  to  the  Indian  king.  A  ship's  boy 
held  the  helm,  so  assured  were  they  all  of  the 
fairness  of  the  weather  and  the  safety  of  their 
course  —  when  the  flag-ship  suddenly  struck 
upon  a  sunken  reef.  Columbus  instantly  di- 
vined his  peril,  and  hurried  on  deck.    With 


CHRISTOPHER   COLUMBUS. 


693 


lightning  rapidity  he  gave  orders  to  cut  away 
the  mast  and  throw  the  cargo  overboard.  But 
the  remedy  was  futile ;  it  was  no  mere  strand- 
ing, it  was  a  wreck.  With  the  desertion  of  the 
Pintd  and  the  loss  of  the  Santa  Maria,  only  the 
smallest  and  frailest  of  the  three  caravels  that 
had  set  sail  from  Palos  remained.  He  went  on 
board  the  Niiia,  and  sent  a  fresh  embassy  to 
Guacanagari,  giving  an  account  of  the  disaster, 
while  he  stood  ofif  and  on  till  day  broke.  When 
the  chief  learned  the  misfortune,  he  sought  in 
every  way  to  alleviate  it,  sparing  neither  means 
nor  sacrifice.  Disastrous  indeed  it  was  to  face 
such  superstitious  races,  who  confided  in  the 
prosperity  and  success  of  the  supernatural,  with 
the  slender  remnants  of  such  a  wreck,  which 
showed  how  the  sea  overcomes  all  created 
things  and  bows  us  all  to  its  sovereign  power. 
But  the  sentiment  of  hospitality  was  uppermost 
in  that  faithful  tribe  and  in  their  kindly  mon- 
arch. All  the  succor  needed  in  that  sad  hour, 
and  all  requisite  provision  for  the  future,  were 
given  to  the  sufferers  with  admirable  orderli- 
ness. The  salvage  of  the  wreck  was  piled  on 
shore  and,  under  the  chief's  orders,  scrupu- 
lously guarded  by  the  natives  as  though  it  were 
their  own.  The  cargo  was  rapidly  discharged 
and  stored  in  a  place  of  safety,  without  the  loss 
of  a  pin's  point. 

On  December  26,  Guacanagari  visited  Co- 
lumbus, and,  finding  him  much  cast  down,  re- 
newed his  assurances  of  friendly  aid.  The 
discoverer  thanked  him  heartily,  and  accepted 
his  proffered  assistance  in  furtherance  of  his 
continued  discoveries.  As  there  is  no  evil  un- 
fraught  with  good,  this  setback  greatly  aided 
the  discoverer's  plans  by  giving  him  informa- 
tion on  which  to  base  new  explorations,  and 
by  affording  him  the  means  of  cementing  friend- 
ship with  the  natives.  Indeed,  scarcely  had 
the  chief  regretfully  quitted  him  when  other 
Indians  came  out  in  a  canoe,  bringing  gold 
in  barter  for  hawk-bells.  Being  but  a  degree 
above  nature,  the  Indians  were  attracted  by 
all  that  appealed  to  their  senses,  and  enjoyed 
the  cheery  tinkle  of  the  cascabels,  being  used 
to  the  much  less  musical  rattling  of  pebbles 
in  a  hollow  stem.  The  chroniclers  of  that  time 
mention  how  the  Indians  mingled  our  strange 
words  with  their  native  speech,  as  primitive  and 
instinctive  as  the  first  chirpings  of  nestling  birds 
or  the  bleating  of  nursling  lambs.  "  Chiica, 
chuca,  cascabeles !  "  they  cried,  begging  those 
gay  and  useless  baubles  with  all  a  child's  eager- 
ness. It  is  narrated  that  some  of  them,  bring- 
ing bits  of  gold  to  exchange  for  hawk-bells, 
gave  up  the  priceless  treasure  as  of  little  worth, 
and  snatched  the  worthless  toys,  with  which 
they  hurried  away,  looking  anxiously  back  as 
though  fearing  the  Spaniard  might  repent  his 
bargain.   Simple  creatures,  and  to  be  envied, 


were  they,  to  fancy  they  had  tricked  the  Span- 
iards in  giving  gold  for  dross  in  that  happy 
age,  fitly  comparable  with  the  poetic  era  when 
riches  were  despised,  and  man  was  content 
with  a  handful  of  acorns  and  a  draught  of  cool 
water  from  the  crystal  spring.  So  primitive  an 
age  seems  impossible  so  near  to  our  own  ma- 
terialistic times.  "  Of  such  cheating,"  says  a 
monkish  writer  of  twenty  years  later,  "  the 
Spaniards  of  that  time  were  glad  to  have  more 
and  more  day  by  day  ";  and  I  even  think  that 
those  of  our  own  day  would  not  refuse  to  be 
so  tricked.  Anything  of  brass  captivated  their 
simple  fancy.  The  clink  and  luster  of  that 
metal,  joined  to  its  flexibility,  so  charmed  them 
that  they  sought  it  eagerly.  They  called  it 
turey  (heavenly).  They  offered  to  take  it  for 
their  gold.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  Columbus, 
delighted  with  the  readiness  of  the  Indians  to 
give  him  such  wealth  as  this  for  mere  dross, 
looked  upon  his  wreck  as  a  heaven-sent  bless- 
ing. Moreover,  the  cacique  generously  invited 
him  to  visit  his  dominions,  and  the  reports  of 
the  gold  that  there  abounded  gladdened  the  dis- 
coverer's soul.  After  Guacanagari  had  supped 
with  Columbus  on  the  Niiia,  the  admiral  supped 
with  the  chief  in  his  bohio,  or  village.  On  those 
occasions  he  told  him  of  a  place  called  Cibao, 
where  gold  was  found  strewn  upon  the  earth's 
surface  and  freely  to  be  gathered  by  any  comer, 
for  the  natives  attached  no  value  to  it.  When 
the  admiral  heard  the  name  Cibao,  he  at  once 
fancied  the  chief  spoke  of  Cipango,  and  began 
to  build  airy  castles,  and  to  suppose  himself 
already  arrived  in  the  coveted  realm  of  India. 
On  inquiring  of  the  simple  natives  in  regard  to 
the  inhabitants  and  the  characteristics  of  that 
region,  he  understood  them,  in  his  confused 
interpretation  of  their  replies,  to  complain  of 
their  treatment  by  their  Caribbean  neighbors, 
and  of  their  terrible  and  unnatural  voracity. 
Thus,  owing  in  part  to  his  utter  misinterpre- 
tation of  what  they  told  him,  and  in  part  to 
the  fancies  of  his  own  fertile  mind,  he  supposed 
them  to  speak  of  a  race  as  perverse  in  moral 
nature  as  deformed  in  body,  having  a  single 
eye  in  the  forehead  like  the  fabled  Cyclops,  a 
dog's  head,  and  a  long  tail,  and  gorging  on 
human  flesh  and  blood.  In  gratitude  for  the 
tidings  they  gave  him  of  the  Cipango  of  his 
dreams,  Columbus  promised  the  potent  aid  of 
his  sovereigns  against  the  Caribs,  and  rich  re- 
wards for  the  gold  they  offered.  Thereupon 
he  set  before  them  the  advantages  of  such  a 
civihzation  as  the  Spaniards  possessed,  and 
the  benefits  to  flow  to  them  from  its  adoption. 
In  order  to  demonstrate  this,  he  put  a  shirt  on 
the  back  of  his  savage  friend,  and  a  pair  of 
gloves  on  his  hands.  Custom  has  decreed  that 
the  raiment  shall  be  adapted  to  the  form,  and 
hence  an  ill-fitting  garment  is  ridiculous  in  our 


694 


CHRISTOPHER   COLUMBUS. 


sight.  Most  laughable,  then,  must  have  been 
the  appearance  of  the  chief,  framed  for  the  air 
and  light  of  freedom,  and  belonging  by  nature 
to  the  animal  and  vegetative  life  about  him, 
when  thus  arrayed  in  the  vesture  appropriate 
to  the  highest  civilization,  but  wholly  at  odds 
with  the  man  as  he  was.  Fancy  an  ape  in 
human  attire,  and  you  have  this  savage,  be- 
shirted  and  begloved  after  the  Spanish  fashion. 
Some  idea  of  the  primitive  life  of  those  Indians 
may  be  formed  from  the  fact  that  they  pos- 
sessed no  weapons  of  any  kind,  if  we  are  to 
credit  what  Columbus  wrote  in  his  journal  for 
the  information  of  his  sovereigns.  This  is  some- 
what at  variance  with  what  he  elsewhere  says 
about  the  constant  warfare  between  the  Hai- 
tian and  Caribbean  tribes;  but  as  Columbus 
is  the  sole,  witness  of  the  facts  of  the  discovery, 
and  as  we  have  no  evidence  but  his,  we  must 
perforce  believe  him.  He  adds  that,  the  more 
to  astonish  them,  he  sent  to  the  caravel  for  a 
Turkish  bow  and  Castilian  arrows,  and  when 
one  of  the'  crew  showed  their  use,  these  chil- 
dren of  nature  looked  upon  them  as  miracles. 
Their  amazement  became  terror  on  hearing 
the  roar  of  the  cannon  and  the  rattle  of  the 
muskets,  fired  by  way  of  salute,  and  sounding 
in  their  untutored  ears  like  the  awful  crash  of 
thunder  in  the  storm.  They  fell  upon  the 
ground,  with  cries  and  signs  of  terror,  as 
though  themselves  smitten  with  death.  No 
wonder,  then,  seeing  and  hearing  these  things, 
that  they  believed  in  the  divinity  of  him  who 
could  thus  control  the  lightning  and  the  thun- 
derbolt. The  fair  skin,  the  look  of  command, 
the  glistening  armor,  the  manly  beard,  the 
flashing  sword,  the  death-dealing  carbine,  all 
were  so  manifestly  beyond  aught  they  knew, 
as  to  render  supernatural  and  divine  in  their 
eyes  these  strangers  cast  up  by  the  celestial 
and  soHtary  ocean.  So,  therefore,  the  Haitians 
knelt  before  the  Spaniards  and  hailed  them  as 
their  natural  masters.  To  them  any  guest  was 
sacred;  how  much  more,  then,  these  superhu- 
man visitants  ?  Columbus  deemed  his  moral 
conquest  of  those  Indians  complete.  Nothing 
more  appropriate,  then,  than  to  seal  it  by  some 
striking  and  visible  sign,  a  castle  or  fortress,  for 
example,  the  effective  symbol  of  sovereignty 
in  feudal  and  monarchical  Europe.  The  tim- 
bers of  the  wreck  served  for  this  purpose,  and 
the  Indians  so  diligently  helped  to  carry  out 


the  design  that  the  fort  was  soon  raised  before 
the  eyes  of  those  docile  tribes  in  the  bosom  of 
that  virgin  land.  It  was  called  by  Columbus 
Fort  Nativity,  in  memory  of  the  day  of  the 
wreck.  This  act  of  taking  possession,  far  from 
dismaying  the  enslaved,  only  strengthened 
their  loyalty  to  their  conqueror,  while  it  served 
Columbus  as  a  means  of  inaugurating  the  con- 
quest and  disposing  of  a  crowd  of  sailors  whom 
he  could  not  well  transport  back  to  Spain,  hav- 
ing only  the  smallest  of  the  caravels  left  to  him, 
besides  insuring  him  willing  recruits  in  Spain 
to  join  their  predecessors  who  had  so  willingly 
remained  in  Haiti.  The  friendly  disposition 
of  the  Haitians  increased  with  their  daily 
intercourse.  The  cacique's  brother  took  the 
discoverer  to  his  hut,  a  large  structure  with 
hangings  of  plaited  palm-leaves  called  j'rt'^?^rt.v, 
where  he  treated  him  with  much  ceremony, 
and  reverently  seated  him  on  a  long  wooden 
settle,  as  big  as  a  bed  and  black  and  polished 
as  jet.  The  cacique,  being  informed  by  his 
brother  of  the  visit  of  Columbus,  repaired  to 
the  hut,  and,  after  saluting  his  honored  guest, 
hung  about  his  neck  an  ornament  of  gold.  It 
is  superfluous  to  describe  the  delight  of  Colum- 
bus. The  honors  paid  him  did  not  stop  here. 
Other  caciques  being  subject  to  Guacanagari, 
he  speedily  assembled  them  and  led  them  to 
the  admiral's  presence,  all  like  himself  wearing 
crowns;  whereupon  he,  their  natural  chief, 
took  oft"  the  golden  circlet  from  his  brows  and 
set  it  on  the  newcomer's  head  in  recognition 
of  his  supernatural  authority.  In  return  for  his 
gold,  Columbus  set  strings  of  glass  beads  on 
the  neck  of  the  cacique,  a  fine  woolen  cloak 
upon  his  shoulders,  a  silver  ring  on  his  finger, 
and  red  buskins  on  his  feet,  to  the  intense  de- 
light of  the  poor  deluded  creature,  who  prized 
these  gauds  above  all  earthly  riches. 

After  receiving  this  vassal  tribute  to  the 
mastery  of  the  Spaniards,  Columbus  deemed 
it  high  time  to  return,  and  to  give  in  person  to 
his  sovereigns  an  authentic  account  of  his  dis- 
coveries, as  well  to  enable  him  to  continue  in 
the  favor  he  had  won  as  to  induce  them  to 
follow  up  and  perfect  the  enterprise  with  am- 
pler means  than  those  he  had  brought  from 
the  peninsula,  and  which  were  now  much  re- 
duced by  the  mishaps  incident  to  his  voyage, 
although,  by  divine  grace,  the  outcome  had 
been  most  fortunate. 

Emilia  Castelar. 


COLUMBIA'S    EMBLEM. 

BLAZON  Columbia's  emblem, 
The  bounteous,  golden  Corn  ! 
Eons  ago,  of  the  great  sun's  glow 

And  the  joy  of  the  earth,  't  was  born. 
From  Superior's  shore  to  Chih, 

From  the  ocean  of  dawn  to  the  west, 
With  its  banners  of  green  and  tasseled  sheen, 

It  sprang  at  the  sun's  behest ; 
And  by  dew  and  shower,  from  its  natal  hour, 

With  honey  and  wine  't  was  fed. 
Till  the  gods  were  fain  to  share  with  men 

The  perfect  feast  outspread. 
For  the  rarest  boon  to  the  land  they  loved 

Was  the  Corn  so  rich  and  fair. 
Nor  star  nor  breeze  o'er  the  farthest  seas 

Could  find  its  like  elsewhere. 


In  their  holiest  temples  the  Incas 

Offered  the  heaven-sent  maize — 
Grains  wrought  of  gold,  in  a  silver  fold, 

For  the  sun's  enraptured  gaze; 
And  its  harvest  came  to  the  wandering  tribes 

As  the  gods'  own  gift  and  seal ; 
And  Montezuma's  festal  bread 

Was  made  of  its  sacred  meal. 
Narrow  their  cherished  fields ;  but  ours 

Are  broad  as  the  continent's  breast, 
And,  lavish  as  leaves  and  flowers,  the  sheaves 

Bring  plenty  and  joy  and  rest. 
For  they  strew  the  plains  and  crowd  the  wains 

When  the  reapers  meet  at  mom. 
Till  blithe  cheers  ring  and  west  winds  sing 

A  song  for  the  garnered  Corn. 

The  rose  may  bloom  for  E!ngland, 

The  lily  for  France  unfold ; 
Ireland  may  honor  the  shamrock, 

Scotland  her  thistle  bold : 
But  the  shield  of  the  great  Republic, 

The  glory  of  the  West, 
Shall  bear  a  stalk  of  the  tasseled  Com, 

Of  all  our  wealth  the  best. 
The  arbutus  and  the  goldenrod 

The  heart  of  the  North  may  cheer. 
And  the  mountain-laurel  for  Maryland 

Its  royal  clusters  rear; 
And  jasmine  and  magnolia 

The  crest  of  the  South  adorn  : 
But  the  wide  Republic's  emblem 

Is  the  bounteous,  golden  Corn  ! 


Edna  Dean  Proctor. 
695 


CLAUDE    MONET. 


■HEN  the  group  of 
painters  known  as  im- 
pressionists exhibited 
together  for  the  first 
time  twelve  or  fifteen 
years  ago,  they  were 
greeted  with  much 
derision.  In  fact  they 
were  hardly  taken 
seriously,  being  re- 
garded either  as  mountebanks  or  as  poseurs 
who  served  the  purpose  of  furnishing  the  quick- 
witted but  not  infallible  Parisians  with  some- 
thing to  laugh  at  once  a  year.  But  they  have 
seen  their  influence  increase  steadily  in  a  re- 
markable manner,  first,  as  is  always  the  case, 
with  the  painters,  and  latterly  with  the  public. 
It  is  a  very  superficial  observer  who  sees  in  the 
impressionists  only  a  body  of  bad  or  inefficient 
painters  who  would  attract  attention  at  any  cost 
except  that  of  study.  The  sum  total  of  talent 
represented  by  MM.  Manet,  Degas,  Monet,  Pi- 
zarro,  Caillebotte,  Sisley,  Renoir,  Mile.  Berthe 
Morisot,  and  the  American  Miss  Cassatt,not  to 
mention  others,  is  very  considerable.  Of  course 
there  have  appeared  the  men  of  small  talent 
with  their  little  invention,  who  have  tacked 
themselves  on  to  the  movement,  notably  the 
genius  who  imagined  the  fly-speck  or  dot  fac- 
ture,  while  streaks  and  stripes  have  been  con- 
sidered a  part  of  the  new  school's  baggage.  All 
this  does  not  take  away  from  the  fact  that  the 
influence  of  the  movement  has  been  a  healthy 
and  much-needed  one.  It  is  to  be  thanked 
first,  of  course,  for  its  independence  and  re- 
volt from  routine,  the  chic  and  habilete  of  the 
schools;  next  for  its  voice  in  behalf  of  pure, 
bright  color  and  light,  things  of  which  painters 
as  well  as  the  public  are  more  or  less  afraid. 
That  refined  color  must,  necessarily  be  dull 
color ;  that  one  should  not  paint  up  too  near 
white ;  that  one  should  "  husband  his  re- 
sources"; and  that  if  any  qualities  must  be 
sacrificed,  let  those  be  color  and  air — all  these 
theories  have  been  stoutly  and  efficiently  com- 
bated by  the  impressionists. 

Of  them  all  M.  Claude  Monet  is  the  most  ag- 
gressive, forceful  painter,  the  one  whose  work  is 
influencing  its  epoch  the  most.  If  he  has  not,  as 
M.  Guy  de  Maupassant  says  with  enthusiasm, 
696 


"  discovered  the  art  of  painting,"  he  has  certain- 
ly painted  moving  waters,  skies,  air,  and  sun- 
light with  a  vividness  and  truth  before  unknown. 
Though  occasionally  painting  indoors,  he  is,  in 
my  opinion,  most  original  as  an  open-air  paint- 
er, and  he  has  scored  his  greatest  success  in  that 
line.  No  one  has  given  us  quite  such  realism. 
Individual,  and  with  the  courage  of  his  opinions 
from  the  first,  his  work,  while  remaining  sub- 
stantially the  same  in  intention,  has  become 
larger  and  freer.  In  the  beginning  there  was  a 
visible  influence  of  Corot,  and  certain  manner- 
isms which  have  disappeared  with  increasing 
years.  Superbly  careless  oifacti/re,  or  at  least 
with  no  preoccupation  in  that  direction,  he  has 
arrived  at  that  greatest  of  all  factures,  large, 
solid,  and  intangible,  which  best  suggests  the 
mystery  of  nature.  And  all  painters  working  in 
the  true  impressionist  spirit,  absorbed  by  their 
subject,  must  feel  that  neat  workmanship  is  not 
merely  not  worth  the  while,  but  is  out  of  the 
question.  "  No  man  can  serve  two  masters,"  and 
this  noble  indifference  to  facture  comes  sooner 
or  later  to  all  great  painters  of  air,  sea,  and  sky. 

Most  painters  have  been  struck  by  the  charm 
of  a  sketch  done  from  nature  at  a  sitting,  a 
charm  coming  from  the  oneness  of  effect,  the  in- 
stantaneousness  seldom  seen  in  the  completed 
landscape,  as  understood  by  the  studio  land- 
scape-painter. M.  Claude  Monet  was  the  first 
to  imagine  the  possibility  of  obtaining  this  truth 
and  charm  on  a  fair-sized  canvas  with  qualities 
and  drawing  unattainable  in  the  small  sketch. 
He  found  it  attainable  by  working  with  method 
at  the  same  time  of  day  and  not  too  long,  never 
for  more  than  an  hour.  Frequently  he  will  be 
carrying  on  at  the  same  time  fifteen  or  twenty 
canvases.  It  is  untrue  that  he  is  a  painter  of 
clever,  large  pochades.  The  canvas  that  does 
not  go  beyond  the  pochade  state  never  leaves 
his  studio,  and  the  completed  pictures  are 
painted  over  many  times. 

Though  these  details  may  be  of  some  interest, 
it  is,  of  course,  the  spiritual  side  of  the  painter's 
work  that  is  really  worth  dwelling  on.  M.  Claude 
Monet's  art  is  vital,  robust,  healthy.  Like 
Corot's,but  in  more  exuberant  fashion,  it  shows 
the  joy  of  living.  It  does  not  lack  thought,  and 
many  of  his  pictures  are  painted  with  difficulty; 
but  there  is  never  that  mysterious  something 


Vol.  XLIV. —  91. 


CLAUDE    MONET. 


697 


698 


CLAUDE   MONET. 


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DRAWN    BY   THEODORE    ROBINSON. 


THE     HOME     ul      .MOM.T     AT     GI\liKNV,     ELRE. 


which  often  gets  into  a  picture  and  communi- 
cates itself  to  the  spectator,  a  sense  of  fatigue, 
or  abatement  of  interest  in  the  motive.  There 
is  always  a  delightful  sense  of  movement,  vibra- 
tion, and  life.  One  of  his  favorite  sayings  is  "La 
Nature  ne  s'arrete  pas."  Clouds  are  moving 
across  the  sky,  leaves  are  twinkling,  the  grass 
is  growing.  Even  the  stillest  summer  day  has 
no  feeling  of  fixedness  or  of  stagnation;  moving 
seas,  rivers,  and  skies  have  a  great  charm  for 
him. 

The  exhibition  at  the  Rue  de  Size  last  sum- 
mer was  a  surprise  to  many  from  the  variety,  rare 
in  a  collection  of  ])ictures  by  one  painter.  Those 
who  knew  M.  Claude  Monet  only  as  a  painter 
of  sunlight  saw  him  in  a  new  vein  in  the  som- 
ber, rocky  hillsides  of  La  Creuse.  There  were 
Paris  streets  and  gardens,  gay  in  movement  and 
color,  railway-stations, Holland  tulip-fields,  and 
Normandy  winter  landscapes.  One,  of  grain- 
stacks  in  the  early  morning,  with  a  thin  cover- 
ing of  snow,  was  a  most  extraordinary  piece 
of  realism.  Then  the  sea,  for  which  he  has  a 
lover's  passion,  seen  from  the  Normandy  chalk 
clifts  dazzling  in  sunlight,  blue  and  green  shad- 
ows chasing  one  another  across  its  surface,  or  the 
stormy  waters  and  black  rocks  of  Belle  Lsle. 
And  his  "  Essais  de  Figures  en  Plein  Air"  — 


what  charm  of  color  and  life!  how  they  belong 
to  the  landscape  in  which  they  breathe  and 
move !  To  my  mind  no  one  has  yet  painted  out 
of  doors  quite  so  truly.  He  is  a  realist,  believ- 
ing that  nature  and  our  own  day  give  us  abun- 
dant and  beautiful  material  for  pictures:  that, 
rightly  seen  and  rendered,  there  is  as  much 
charm  in  a  nineteenth-century  girl  in  her  ten- 
nis- or  yachting-suit,  and  in  a  landscape  of  sun- 
lit meadows  or  river-bank,  as  in  the  Lefebvre 
nymph  with  her  appropriate  but  rather  dreary 
setdng  of  "  classical  landscape  ";  that  there  is 
an  abundance  of  poetry  outside  of  swamps, 
twilights,  or  weeping  damosels.  M.  Claude 
Monet's  work  jjroves  this  fact,  if  there  be  need 
to  prove  it:  that  there  is  no  antagonism  be- 
tween broad  daylight  and  modernity,  and  sen- 
timent and  charm;  that  an  intense  lover  and 
follower  of  nature  is  not  necessarily  an  undis- 
criminating  note-taker,  a  photographer  of  more 
or  less  interesting  facts.  Beauty  of  line,  of  light 
and  shade,  of  arrangement,  above  all,  of  color, 
it  is  but  a  truism  to  say  that  nowhere  except  in 
nature  can  their  secrets  be  discovered. 

M.  Claude  Monet's  art  leaves  few  indiffer- 
ent. There  is  a  whole  gamut  of  apjjreciation, 
from  the  classicists  who  abhor  him, —  as  Ingres 
is  said  to  have  spat  at  the  sight  of  a  Dela- 


CLAUDE   MONET. 


699 


croix, —  to  M.de  Maupassant,  whose  judgment 
I  have  already  given.  He  is  often  aggressive, 
sometimes  wihully  so,  and  you  feel  that  he 
takes  a  delight  in  making  the  "  heathen  " — /.  c, 
Philistine  —  '*  rage."  There  is  always  need  of 
such  work  and  such  painters.  His  work  is 
quite  as  often  sane  and  reasonable,  and  should 
interest  all  who  love  nature.  His  painting,  di- 
rect, honest,  and  simple,  gives  one  something  of 
the  same  impression,  the  same  charm,  that  one 
gets  directly  from  the  great  mother —  Nature  — 
herself. 

One  cause  of  the  popular  prejudice  against 
impressionism  is  the  supposed  wilful  exaggera- 
tion of  color.    No  doubt  restrained,  negative 


and  colors  than  we ;  that  they  had,  in  fact,  a 
simpler  and  more  naive  vision ;  that  the  modern 
eye  is  being  educated  to  distinguish  a  complex- 
ity of  shades  and  varieties  of  color  before  un- 
known. And  for  a  comparison,  take  the  sense 
of  taste,  which  is  susceptible  of  cultivation  to 
such  an  extraordinary  degree  that  the  expert 
can  distinguish  not  only  different  varieties  and 
ages  of  wine,  but  mixtures  as  well ;  yet  this 
sense  in  the  generality  of  mankind,  in  com- 
parison, hardly  exists.  In  like  manner  a  painter 
gifted  with  a  fine  visual  perception  of  things 
spends  years  in  developing  and  educating  that 
sense ;  then  comes  the  man  who  never  in  his 
life  looked  at  nature  but  in  a  casual  and  patro- 


_  g^ 

FROM  THE  PAINTING  BY  CLAUDE  MONET,   IN   POSSESb 


UTTON 

BORDIGHERA. 


color  pleases  better  the  average  mind,  and  only 
a  colorist  and  searcher  can  use  pure,  vivid 
color  with  good  eftect,as  Monet  certainly  does. 
That  there  is  more  color  in  nature  than  the 
average  observer  is  aware  of,  I  believe  any  one 
not  color-blind  can  prove  for  himself  by  taking 
the  time  and  trouble  to  look  for  it.  It  is  a  plausi- 
ble theory  that  our  forefathers  saw  fewer  tones 


nizing  way,  and  who  swears  he  "  never  saw  such 
color  as  that."  Which  is  right,  or  nearest  right  ? 
Another  cause  has  been  its  supposed  ten- 
dency toward  iconoclasticism  and  eccentri- 
city. But  in  reality,  while  bringing  forward 
new  discoveries  of  vibration  and  color,  in  many 
ways  the  impressionists  were  returning  to  first 
principles.    Manet's  '*  Boy  with  a  Sword  "  and 


700 


CLAUDE   MONET. 


the  much  discussed  "Olympia"  may  claim  kin- 
ship with  Velasquez  for  truth  of  values,  and 
for  largeness  and  simplicity  of  modeling,  while 
the  best  Monets  rank  with  Daubigny's  or,  to  go 
farther  back,  with  Constable's  art  in  their  self- 
restraint  and  breadth,  combined  with  fidelity 
to  nature. 

While  the  movement  is  much  in  sympathy 
with  the  naturalistic  movement  in  literature, 
yet  I  should  rather  insist  on  its  resemblance  to 
that  brought  on  by  Constable.  In  indepen- 
dence of  thought  and  intense  love  of  nature, 
in  the  treatment  received  from  public  and  crit- 
ics, and  in  their  immediate  influence  on  the 
younger  painters  of  their  day,  there  is  a  remark- 
able similarity  between  (Nonstable  and  M. 
Monet.  In  Leslie's  "  Life  "  Constable  preaches 


Perhaps  the  sacrifices  I  make  for  lightness  and 
brightness  are  too  great,  but  these  things  are 
the  essence  of  landscape." 

In  1824  some  of  his  landscapes  exhibited  in 
Paris  made  a  sensation.  The  French  artists 
"  are  struck  by  their  vivacity  and  freshness, 
things  unknown  to  their  own  pictures  —  they 
have  made  a  stir  and  set  the  students  in  land- 
scape to  thinking.  .  .  .  The  critics  are  angry 
with  the  public  foradmiringthesepictures.  They 
acknowledge  the  effect  to  be  rich  and  powerful, 
and  that  the  whole  has  the  look  of  nature  and  the 
color  true  and  harmonious;  but  shall  we  admire 
works  so  unusual  for  their  excellencies  alone  — 
what  then  is  to  become  of  the  great  Poussin  ? 
—  and  they  caution  the  younger  artists  to  be- 
ware of  the  seduction  of  these  English  works." 


fi 


M 


*rf' 


\  t 


^♦. 


&ln.\i*'S»^* 


'  CLAUDE  MONET,    IN   POSSESSION   OF  JAMES  F.  SUTTON. 

ON    CAPE    MARTIN,    NEAR    MENTONE. 


againt  c/iic,  then  called  bravura,  "an  attempt 
to  do  something  beyond  the  truth.  Fashion 
always  had  and  always  will  have  its  day,  but 
truth  in  all  things  only  will  last  and  can  only 
have  just  claims  on  posterity."  "The  world  is 
full  enough  of  what  has  been  already  done." 
"  My  execution  annoys  the   scholastic  ones. 


But  a  few  years  later  the  younger  artists  began 
to  profit  by  Constable's  ideas,  and  the  noble 
school  of  1830  appeared,  carrying  the  art  of 
landscape-painting  another  step  in  advance. 

It  is  not  perhaps  too  soon  to  prophesy  that 
in  the  same  manner  the  influence  of  M.  Claude 
Monet  on  the  landscape  art  of  the  future  will 


TWO   POEMS. 


701 


THE     ORCHARD. 


be  strongly  felt.  Imitation  can  go  but  a  little 
way,  and  is  always  without  value,  although  its 
appearance  is  no  argument  against  the  art  imi- 
tated—  witness  M.  Trouillebert.  But  as  the 
young  Frenchmen  of  1830  profited  by  the  ex- 
ample of  Constable,  his  discovery  of  breadth 


and  values  as  we  understand  them  to-day,  so 
will  the  coming  landscape-men  use  the  impres- 
sionist discoveries  of  vibration  and  the  possibil- 
ities of  pure  color,  and,  Avhile  careful  to  "hold 
fast  that  which  is  good,"  will  go  on  to  new 
and  delightful  achievement. 


Theodore  Robinson. 


TWO    POEMS. 

AN    IMPULSE. 

THE  silent  little  glen  I  often  seek. 
Moist,  dark :  a  tiny  rivulet  runs  through 
The  lush,  wet  grass,  so  small  a  silvery  thread 
That  one  might  take  it  for  a  line  of  dew. 
The  trees  have  shut  it  in  a  sylvan  room 
Full  of  chill  earthy  scents.    Diana  might 
Choose  such  a  spot  to  don  her  huntress  garb, 
Or  stretch  her  cold,  chaste  body  there  at  night. 
And  yet  to-day,  thou  thing  of  Eastern  suns, 
The  very  contrast  of  the  place  to  thee 
Made  me  look  up,  and  through  the  undergrowth. 
With  the  wild  dream  that  thou  hadst  come  to  me  ! 


MELODY. 


"l  11 /"HEN  the  land  was  white  with  moonlight, 
V  V     And  the  air  was  sweet  with  May, 
I  was  so  glad  that  Love  would  last 
Forever  and  a  day. 


Now  the  land  is  white  with  winter, 
And  dead  Love  laid  away, 

I  am  so  glad  Life  cannot  last 
Forever  and  a  day. 


Anne  Reeve  Ahirkh. 


THE    CHOSEN    VALLEY.'— V. 

By  Mary  Hallock  Foote, 

Author  of  "The  Led-Horse  Claim,"  "John  Bodewin's  Testimony,"  etc. 
WITH    PICTURES    BY    THE    AUTHnR. 


'  DOLLY     WAS     SERVING     A     HOUSEKEEPER  S     AFl'UENTICESHIP 


MARGARET  had  been  able  to  choose 
her  successor,  a  young  woman  who 
presented  herself  with  an  appositeness 
which  might  have  been  called  providen- 
tial but  for  the  drawback  of  a  ten-months- 
old  baby.  Margaretmadelightofthebaby 
in  comparison  with  the  baby's  dire  alter- 
native, a  Chinaman ;  and  the  family  as- 
sented. No  one  likes  to  think  one's  self 
so  inhuman  as  to  mind  a  baby.  A  baby, 
Margaret  claimed,  steadies  a  young  wo- 
man and  gives  her  ambition  ;  she  had  seen 
a  slender  bit  nursing  mother  go  through 
the  same  work,  and  find  time  to  rest  and 
tidy  herself,  that  "twa  jaukin'  hizzies  wad 
be  dallyin'  with  the  leedang  day."  The 
young  woman's  husband  was  busy,  like 
Job,  getting  his  land  in  shape  for  the  water, 
which  had  been  promised  by  the  follow- 
ing spring. 

It  was  several  weeks  before  the  admis- 
1  Copyright,  1892,  by  Mary  Hallock  Foote. 


THE    CHOSEN  VALLEY. 


703 


sion  crept  out  that  the  baby  was  getting  oppres- 
sive. The\'  continued  to  give  themselves  credit 
for  the  feehngs  proper  to  the  baby  and  to  Jenny, 
who  was  doing  her  best  to  combine  her  natural 
duties  with  those  for  which  she  was  paid.  The 
baby  was  a  splendid,  great,  fair,  brown-eyed 
boy  baby  ;  they  were  the  ideal  settler's  wife  and 
child,  the  very  people  for  whom  the  canal  was 
building.  All  this  made  it  harder  to  confess 
that  so  appropriate  a  connection  was  far  from 
comfortable.  Dolly,  who  had  entered  with  girl- 
ish enthusiasm  into  the  scheme,  had  won 
Jenny's  heart  at  the  outsetby  her  sweet,  inviting 
ways  with  the  baby,  of  whose  position  in  the 
family  the  mother  was  naturally  jealous;  but 
Dolly's  success  was  her  own  undoing  —  the 
baby  screamed  to  go  to  her  whenever  he  saw 
her  in  the  distance.  She  had  pleased  him  too 
well ;  she  had  rashly  admitted  him  to  her  own 
part  of  the  house,  far  more  attractive  than  the 
kitchen,  and  thereafter,  short  of  downright  for- 
cible expulsion,  he  was  not  to  be  denied.  He 
could  creep  faster  than  a  clock  ticks,  and  as, 
in  the  summer  weather,  doors  were  left  wide, 
the  sound  of  his  scuffling  toes  and  his  bubbles 
and  guggles  of  delight  became  a  comic  source 
of  terror.  She  felt  constrained  to  keep  up  her 
character,  too  ambitiously  assumed.  She  sym- 
pathized with  Jenny,  and  tried  dishonestly  to 
persuade  her  that  the  baby  was  no  trouble  to 
any  one;  and  between  specious  protestations 
to  the  mother,  tyrannous  exactions  on  the  part 
of  the  baby,  and  her  own  secret  dismay,  Dol- 
ly's path  became  daily  more  complicated  and 
arduous. 

Philip  despised  the  baby  because  it  took  up 
precious  moments  of  Dolly's  time  that  he  had 
formerly  been  able  to  monopolize.  Dunsmuir 
found  all  his  autocratic  habits  trampled  upon 
by  that  terrible,  sunny-headed  radical, who  was 
always  underfoot  when  he  was  not  in  Dolly's 
arms,  or  swinging  by  his  mother's  skirts,  or 
pulling  things  off  the  kitchen  table,  or  mixing 
himself  up  in  squalid  fashion  with  the  sacred 
ceremonies  of  dinner,  or  digging  holes  in  the 
flower-beds,  or  strewing  the  piazza  floor  with  his 
idols, —  bits  of  coal  or  chicken-bones  or  mum- 
bled crusts  of  bread, — and  leaving  indispensable 
parts  of  his  clothing  about  in  conspicuous  places, 
to  be  hastily  gotten  rid  of  or  futilely  ignored. 
The  young  settler  had  a  habit  of  screaming  at 
meal-times,  occasions  which  seemed  to  excite 
him  and  to  remind  him  of  his  own  infringed 
rights.  Jenny  woukl  dash  in  and  out  with  a 
flushed  face  and  a  high-strung  manner,  the  ten- 
sion of  her  nerves  increasing  with  the  baby's 
notorious  demands.  In  her  brief  disappear- 
ances she  would  catch  him  up  violently  and 
remove  him  farther  and  farther  from  his  audi- 
ence in  the  dining-room,  scolding  till  both  his 
heart  and  her  own  were  quite  broken.  \Vhen  his 


cries  came  forlornly  from  his  place  of  banish- 
ment in  the  woodshed,  Dolly,  unable  to  bear 
the  appearance  of  heartlessness  any  longer, 
would  rise  to  the  rescue,  and  tlie  meal  would 
end  distractedly  for  all.  Dolly  began  secretly 
to  dislike  the  baby,  almost  to  wish  some  rea- 
sonable fault  could  be  found  with  Jenny  as  an 
excuse  for  terminating  a  relation  so  exposing 
to  all  her  own  unsuspected  weaknesses.  It 
was  humiliating  to  think  how  little  Margaret 
would  have  made  of  this  pother  about  a  baby. 
Her  hands  would  never  have  been  too  clean, 
nor  her  gowns  too  fresh  and  fine,  to  nurse  him, 
the  young  rascal,  when  his  mother  needed 
relief. 

It  was  helplessly  agreed,  in  the  family,  that 
to  send  away  Jenny  for  no  fault  but  that  she 
was  a  mother  would  be  too  monstrous;  but  they 
were  ripe  for  any  desperate  measure  of  relief. 
Jenny  had  a  young  sister,  a  lass  of  twelve,  whom 
it  was  now  proposed  to  have  up  from  town,  to 
mind  the  baby,  and  betimes  to  help  Jenny  with 
her  work.  But  wages,  it  proved,  were  no  object 
to  Jenny's  parents  compared  with  the  loss  of  a 
winter's  schooling  for  their  youngest  daughter. 
They  were  a  nomadic,  tent-and-wagon  family, 
and  therefore  the  more  regardful  of  educational 
opportunities  when  they  came  in  their  way. 
In  extremity,  Dolly  oftered  to  remove  the  dif- 
ficulty by  herself  undertaking  to  teach  the  lass; 
and  so  it  was  arranged.  Two  hours  each  day 
she  gave  to  the  sowing  of  seed  on  that  wild  and 
stony  soil,  and  very  profitable,  on  the  whole,  was 
the  exercise  —  to  the  teacher.  But  Philip  re- 
belled against  these  baffling  and  separating 
influences.  The  atmosphere  of  the  household 
was  changed ;  it  was  no  longer  feudal  and  con- 
centrated. Other  matters  besides  the  work 
had  started  up  with  much  intrusive  bustle,  and 
Dolly  was  serving  a  housekeeper's  apprentice- 
ship instead  of  falling  sweetly  and  securely  in 
love. 

On  one  of  the  evenings  when  Philip  dined 
in  town  chance  presented  him  with  an  awk- 
ward discovery.  Alan  had  gone  with  a  party 
of  young  girls  to  a  play  given  by  a  traveling 
company.  Philip  was  not  much  concerned  for 
the  lad's  sentimental  relations  in  these  days, 
although  the  latter  confessed  to  having  returned 
AntoniaVargas  her  bullet;  the  confession  being 
incident  to  his  having  had  to  borrow  of  Philip 
to  pay  for  mounting  the  same.  He  claimed  to 
have  sent  it  partly  as  a  joke  ;  a  trifle  fervid  in 
the  accompanying  sentiment,  possibly,  but  a 
girl  accustomed  in  her  own  language  to  the 
metaphorical  kissing  of  hands  and  feet  could  not 
be  supposed  to  take  umbrage  at  a  word,  though 
strong. 

He  had  cudgeled  his  wits  for  days,  he  said, 
and  looked  through  stacks  of  books  for  a 
text  not  exceeding  in  space  one  inch  of  en- 


704 


THE    CHOSEN  VALLEY. 


graver's  small  script;  but  nothing  could  he  find 
to  the  purpose  of  a  wound  but  that  stale  bit 
of  Latin.  Virtue  would  not  go,  of  course,  and 
gratitude  had  sounded  a  trifle  prudent.  Such 
had  been  Alan's  explanation,  if  sincere,  and 
Philip  had  no  reason  to  doubt  him. 

He  was  smoking  at  the  window  of  his  bed- 
room in  the  wing  opening  on  a  grass  court  in 
rear  of  the  house.  On  the  kitchen  porch  below 
Enrique  was  conversing  with  a  shy  figure  lately 


heart.    You  would  confess  to  the  devil  himself 

if  that  were  the  only  road  to  marriage  with 

Antonia." 

"  I  was  a  fool  to  venture  back  so  soon;  I  should 

have  waited  till  matters  were  quiet.  But  1  died, 

Enrique,  thinking  of  them   together  in  that 

cursed  pit !  " 

"  It  was  a  meeting  of  your  own  contriving." 
"  I  tell  you  it  was  not.     Did  I  invite  him 

to  the  cave  ?  Once  there,  what  could  I  do  with 


THK     LliTTE 


ESIGNATION. 


known  on  the  streets  of  the  town  as  a  peddler 
of  tomales.  She  was  a  bent  old  woman  with 
a  brown  face,  which  she  kept  well  hidden  un- 
der the  peaked  hood  of  her  invariable  black 
shawl.  Twice  a  week  she  brought  tomales  and 
enchillalas  to  the  house,  and  gossiped  with 
Enrique.  Without  paying  much  attention,  he 
caught  the  monotonous  cadence  of  their  voices, 
until  a  sentence  distinguished  itself,  remarkable 
enough,  coming  from  the  vender  of  tomales. 
Enrique  had  asked  her  a  question,  and  this 
was  her  answer : 

"  The  Father  says  that  I  am  still  in  sin ;  he 
cannot  give  me  absolution.  I  think  it  is  merely 
an  excuse  to  put  off  my  marriage  with  Antonia. 
I  am  not  worse  than  others  that  he  should  dis- 
tinguish against  me." 

"  You  are  wrong  to  say  that  of  the  Eather, 
Pacheco.  He  knows  that  confession  such  as 
yours  comes  but  from  the  lips,  not  from  the 


him  ?  Set  him  free,  and  he  would  prattle  of 
what  he  had  seen,  and  they  would  hunt  me 
like  a  badger.  Keep  him  with  me  ?  There  was 
not  food  enough  for  two.  There  was  scant  for 
one  till  Antonia  should  arrive,  at  the  time  ap- 
pointed. The  pity  was  that  I  had  bowels  and 
left  him  the  key  to  the  well,  or  that  I  did  not 
crack  his  skull  a  little  harder  when  I  threw  him 
in  the  cave." 

"  A  pity  to  spoil  a  better  case  than  your  own. 
He  has  the  face  of  the  blessed  St.  Michael." 

The  tomale-woman  shook  in  her  bundled 
rags  like  a  sheaf  of  withered  corn.  Her  words 
were  a  choking  growl. 

"  Bah  !  the  boy  is  not  a  madman  like  you. 
He  is  not  bitten  to  the  soul."  Enrique  spoke. 
"  Antonia  may  never  have  looked  at  him  but 
in  compassion,  as  the  angels  might,  seeing 
the  state  she  found  him  in.  The  keys  of  thy 
cave  were  a  candle  to  the  blind.    Had  she  been 


THE   CHOSEN  VALLEY. 


705 


a  day  later  he  had  not  been  worth  loading  a 
pony  with." 

"  You  have  fatted  him  till  he  could  carry 
the  pony  himself,  now." 

"  All  I  ever  said  was" — Enrique  spoke  again 
—  "he  has  looked  at  her.  Very  good  ;  so  has 
many  another  long-legged  coxcomb  about  the 
town." 

"  And  I  am  forbidden  the  house  till  her 
father's  return." 

"  Yes,  but  you  art  her  novio,  wolf  in  sheep's 
clothing." 

"  If  I  am  a  wolf,  what  is  he  ?  " 

"A  very  white  little  lamb  beside  you.  If 
he  sees  her,  it  is  in  the  American  fashion,  which 
means  anything  or  nothing."  Enrique's  shoul- 
ders went  up ;  his  hands  said  the  rest.  "  Extraor- 
dinary people  !  He  has  gone  with  three  of 
them  to-night,  his  little  countrywomen  ;  not  a 
gray  hair  nor  a  wedding  ring  in  the  company. 
You  might  hear  their  parrot  voices  screaming 
the  length  of  the  street.  With  him  it  is  not  An- 
tonia ;  it  is  any  girl." 

"  I  am  in  hell  with  thinking  on  them." 

"  You  will  get  there  fast  enough  without  so 
much  thinking." 

Philip  reported  this  conversation  to  Duns- 
muir.  It  was  agreed  now  that  Alan  should  be 
sent  away  ;  but  where  ? 

The  family  wound  still  rankled.  The  family 
itself  on  the  other  side  had  greatly  changed  in 
fifteen  years.  The  present  members  had  their 
own  burdens  sufficient  to  their  incomes;  cor- 
respondence had  nearly  ceased. 

"  Chuck  him  into  a  big  school,  and  let  him 
strike  out  for  himself  and  learn  his  insignifi- 
cance," said  Philip. 

"  Send  him  to  heaven  if  you  happen  to  know 
the  way ! "  was  Dunsmuir's  answer.  The  Amer- 
ican schools  were  all  alike  in  his  estimation, 
skin-deep  in  scholarship,  vulgar  in  tone,  in- 
ordinately expensive. 

Then  Philip  somewhat  diffidently  proposed 
the  Continent  as  a  compromise,  with  his  mo- 
ther's assistance  in  placing  Alan  at  Zurich 
or  Vevay.  She  would  dote  on  another  boy  to 
"  run  "  in  vacations ;  and  Alan  would  find  it  not 
so  disagreeable  to  be  preached  to  by  an  adora- 
ble woman  old  enough  to  be  his  mother,  who, 
as  she  was  not  his  mother,  would  know  when 
to  "  let  up." 

To  his  surprise,  Dunsmuir  fell  in  with  the 
proposition  at  once.  Philip  cabled  his  mother, 
and  wrote,  sending  Alan's  picture;  the  lad's 
good  looks,  he  well  knew,  would  be  a  great 
point  in  his  favor.  Meantime  Philip  talked 
to  him  like  an  elder  brother.  He  could  have 
wished  to  see  him  more  touched  in  temper,  and 
less  placidly  flattered  by  the  attention  his  pas- 
times excited.  Dunsmuir  raved  over  the  cost; 
Vol.  XLIV.— 92. 


a  cool  thousand  it  meant  at  the  first  go  off,  and 
he  had  promised  his  next  surplus  to  Job,  who 
needed  the  money  at  once  on  his  land.  No 
matter ;  the  old  people  must  wait.  From  those 
that  have  not  shall  be  taken  even  that  which 
they  have.  Dunsmuir  felt  the  want  of  money  all 
the  more,  now  that  he  had  begun  to  straighten 
his  affairs  and  to  handle  a  salary  again.  He 
was  impatient  to  be  free. 

Pacheco  had  been  arrested.  Vargas  had  re- 
turned with  his  mules  from  Sheep  Mountain, 
and  was  looking  after  his  daughter.  Alan  was 
on  parole.  Dolly  was  cold,  and  would  not  talk 
of  her  brother.  Her  shame  for  him  went  hard 
with  her ;  it  was  like  a  bilious  sickness.  She 
was  for  abjuring  sentiment  henceforth  in  any 
and  every  form.  Away  with  it  all !  The  lights 
were  out  in  her  own  secret  place  of  worship ; 
cold  daylight  showed  the  images  to  be  mere 
tawdry  dolls;  her  flowers  of  passion  were  turned 
to  rags  and  shreds  of  tinsel.  Not  one  kind  word 
could  Philip  get  from  her  in  her  revolt;  not 
a  single  acknowledgment  of  all  that  had  so 
nearly  come  to  pass  between  them. 


The  river  was  now  at  its  lowest.  Coffer- 
dams were  in  place,  which  were  to  cramp  it  and 
turn  it  aside,  and  at  night,  when  the  pile-drivers, 
and  the  steam-hoists,  and  the  dump-carts  were 
silent,  the  harassed  stream  made  loud  its  com- 
plaint. Dunsmuir's  orders  were  to  "  go  ahead  " 
and  put  in  his  dam  on  a  pile  foundation  where 
the  rock  gave  out,  that  water  might  be  turned 
into  the  ditch  by  May  i,  in  time  to  reap  the 
next  season's  crop  of  contracts.  Dunsmuir  had 
protested  in  vain  against  the  issuing  of  con- 
tracts which  called  for  this  early  delivery  of 
water.  He  had  submitted  his  own  plan  of  the 
dam  —  excavation  till  soHd  rock  should  be 
reached,  that  the  masonry  might  rise  in  one 
coherent  mass  from  a  permanent  and  homo- 
geneous foundation.  But  such  construction 
demanded  more  time  than  the  contracts  were 
giving  him. 

"  What  's  the  matter  with  piles  and  con- 
crete ?  "  Norrisson  had  asked ;  and  he  men- 
tioned several  dams  with  pile  foundations  that 
were  doing  their  duty.  While  in  Denver,  soon 
afterward,  he  took  the  occasion  of  meeting  a 
friend,  an  engineer  of  reputation,  to  put  the  case 
of  the  Wallula  dam,  and  asked  his  opinion.  The 
engineer  gave  it,  unofficially,  on  the  facts  as 
Norrisson  presented  them ;  he  said  that  a  pile 
foundation  would  serve.  Norrisson  quoted  him 
triumphantly  to  Dunsmuir,  who  was  unshaken, 
though  considerably  irritated  by  Norrisson's 
methods  of  warfare.  If  he  had  wanted  a  con- 
sulting engineer,  why  had  he  not  retained  one 
and  got  his  report  after  a  personal  examination  ? 


7o6 


THE    CHOSEN  VALLEY. 


The  argument  ceased  in  -words.  A  few  days 
thereafter  Dunsmuir  received  an  official  com- 
munication to  the  following  effect : 

Dear  Sir  :  It  will  be  necessary  to  proceed  im- 
mediately with  the  construction  of  the  dam,  in 
accordance  with  the  plan  suggested  by  me  and 
discussed  in  our  last  conversation.  You  may  con- 
sider this  authoritative.  Very  truly  yours, 
Price  Norrisson, 

Manager. 
Robert  Dunsmuir, 

C/t  ief  Engineer. 

Such  an  order  from  the  manager  to  the  chief 
engineer  precisely  indicated  the  relation  be- 
tween them,  as  Norrisson  intended  it  should. 
The  chief's  resignation  was  in  order,  else  he 
would  remain  as  the  servant  of  the  company, 
not  the  responsible  agent  of  the  work.  In  his 
first  outburst  of  indignation  Dunsmuir  wrote 
such  an  answer  as  the  situation  demanded.  It 
was  some  consolation  to  watch  Philip's  face 
while  he  read  it  aloud  to  him  with  satisfied 
emphasis. 

"  Understand,  I  don't  make  it  personal." 
Dunsmuir  looked  kindly,  almost  fondly,  at 
PhiHp,  who  had  not  a  word  to  say.  "  It  is  the 
old  issue  that  parted  us  the  first  time.  It  has 
parted  better  friends  than  your  father  and  I 
ever  pretended  to  be ;  and  I  don't  say  the 
alternative  is  of  his  contriving.  I  was  my  own 
promoter  some  weary  years ;  I  should  know 
something  of  the  difficulties  on  that  side.  But 
my  choice  is  plain.  I  must  stick  to  the  first 
principle  in  our  profession,  Philip  :  the  honest 
builder  can  wait,  he  can  fail,  he  can  starve ; 
he  cannot  botch  his  work.  I  speak  for  myself, 
who  am  the  only  one  accountable." 

"  I  shall  leave  the  work  when  you  do." 

"  I  don't  see  that  you  need;  and  I  should  be 
as  jealous  for  you  as  for  my  son." 

"  I  shall  go  with  you,  sir,  for  the  sake  of 
adding  my  protest,  and  because  of  what  you 
have  just  said." 

"  There  are  moments  of  defeat  worth  more 
than  many  a  victory,"  said  Dunsmuir. 

But  in  the  silence  of  night,  when  conse- 
quences obtrude,  he  revised  his  decision.  No 
man  may  be  captive,  even  to  his  own  will,  for  as 
long  as  Dunsmuir,  without  suffering  the  prison 
change.  If  Norrisson's  company  owned  the 
scheme,  the  scheme  owned  Dunsmuir;  and  he 
knew  it  now.  He  thought  of  his  debts ;  of  his 
children,  restless  and  half-educated;  of  his  for- 
saken connections  in  the  world  that  no  longer 
knew  him.  A  morbid  dread  of  change  had 
grown  upon  him;  his  fixed  life  had  singular- 
ly, appeahngly  unfitted  him  for  a  fresh  start. 
He  had  lost  the  habit  of  society;  he  was  out 
of  touch  with  the  new  movements  in  his  pro- 
fession ;  he  had  no  elasticity,  no  imagination. 


no  conviction  left  for  any  new  work  so  long 
as  he  was  chained  to  this.  He  knew  his 
bondage  at  last,  and  his  soul  cried  out  against 
it;  yet  he  could  not  go  forth,  a  penniless,  bro- 
ken man,  Avith  the  scars  of  failure  upon  him. 
He  had  worn  out  his  powers  of  waiting.  A 
specious  victory  had  granted  him  the  respite 
of  three  months  of  action  in  command  of  forces 
he  called  his  own ;  he  could  not  bear  now  to  feel 
the  screws  take  hold  again  in  the  same  old 
shrinking  places. 

Then  followed  those  lower  considerations 
that  lie  in  wait  for  moments  of  irresolution  to 
worry  the  doubting  heart.  The  truth  concern- 
ing his  resignation  would  never  be  known.  Gos- 
sip would  have  it,  in  circles  where  an  engineer's 
reputation  is  discussed,  that  here  was  a  pre- 
sumptuous dreamer  who  fancied  himself  called 
to  a  great  work,  who,  after  more  than  a  decade 
spent  in  contemplating  it,  was  found  unequal 
to  the  initial  problem  of  its  fulfilment.  How 
he  hated  that  word  theorist !  there  was  nothing 
he  so  loved  as  to  be  considered  practical.  Now, 
the  practical  man  would  be  his  successor.  He 
would  reap  the  honors  should  the  dam  stand ; 
if  it  went  out,  how  easily  the  blame  might  be 
shifted  back  upon  the  theorist.  Dunsmuir  was 
well  acquainted  with  the  dark  side  of  his  pro- 
fession—  the  long  waitings,  the  jealousies,  the 
wrested  honors,  and  the  bitter  rewards.  He 
knew  how  a  man's  one  mistake  may  follow 
him  to  his  grave,  while  his  successes  are  forgot- 
ten or  credited  to  another  man. 

At  daybreak,  when  the  wind  fell,  and  with 
it  a  silence  upon  the  sleeping  house,  he  stole  out 
from  his  bedroom  to  the  office,  and  abstracted 
his  letter  of  resignation  from  the  post-bag.  His 
decision  was  already  reversed,  yet  he  hesitated 
before  the  act  that  should  cancel  all  that  brave 
talk  of  the  night  before. 

Yet  why  assume  that  it  was  a  betrayal  of 
the  work  ?  What  are  the  risks  that  success  will 
not  justify  ?  It  was  well  enough  known  in  the 
history  of  engineering  that  there  is  an  heroic 
margin  outside  the  beaten  track  of  precedent 
which  bold  spirits  yet  may  tread.  He  was  half 
angry  with  Philip,  now,  as  he  thought  of  their 
conversation,  that  the  younger  man  should  have 
seen  no  way  out  of  the  difficulty  but  his  chief's 
resignation.  Decidedly  Philip  was  too  conser- 
vative. Of  what  use  to  be  twenty-three  and  an 
American !  The  letter  was  torn  into  bits  and 
went  into  the  waste-basket,  and  Dunsmuir  sat 
out  the  dawn,  and  heard  the  house  awake, 
scarcely  moving,  face  to  face  with  the  first  deep, 
secret  humiliation  of  his  life.  By  breakfast-time 
he  had  got  his  most  presentable  arguments  in 
order.  He  sat  working  them,  in  silence,  during 
the  meal,  and  when  it  was  over  he  summoned 
Philip  into  the  office,  and  said  to  him  coldly: 

"  I  have  called  a  halt,  Norrisson.    It  is  too 


THE    CHOSEN  VALLEY. 


707 


late  now  to  back  out  of  the  work  ;  it  would  be 
desertion.  I  do  not  give  orders  here,  it  seems, 
but  that  is  the  fortune  of  war.  They  have  cap- 
tured my  scheme  by  the  strong  arm.  They  can 
make  what  hash  of  it  they  please ;  but  for  bet- 
ter or  worse  I  stay  with  it,  and  pride  may  go  to 
the  dogs.  My  pride  shall  consist  in  making  the 
dam  as  strong  as  their  infernal  meddling  will 
let  me.  If  it  goes,  at  least  I  shall  know  all  was 
done  that  could  be  done  with  such  a  manage- 
ment in  the  saddle.  I  know  no  fathers  or  fa- 
thers' sons  in  this  business.  It 's  a  fight,  and  they 
have  won.    Let  them  make  the  most  of  it." 

There  was  little  Philip  could  say  not  seem- 
ing to  remind  Dunsmuir  of  his  recantation. 
Dunsmuir  understood  him.  They  spent  a  bad 
day,  each  inside  his  defenses.  The  pause  in  the 
work  left  them  conscious  of  each  other's  pres- 
ence as  a  burden  in  the  room  where  they  had 
labored  and  argued  together  harmoniously. 
PhiHp  brought  on  the  explosion  by  a  restless 
allusion  to  Dolly.  He  was  always  trying  the 
ice  of  Dunsmuir's  doubtful  sanction,  boy-fash- 
ion, to  know  when  it  would  bear.  To-day  he 
ventured  too  far;  it  cracked  without  warning; 
it  thundered  from  shore  to  shore. 

Philip  had  hazarded  a  nervous  expression 
of  the  hope  that,  whatever  grinds  or  hitches 
should  come  to  the  work,  the  peace  of  the  re- 
lation might  stand ;  and  since  men  do  not 
usually  mean  each  other  when  they  talk  in  this 
strain,  Dunsmuir  became  fidgety  and  Philip 
more  nervous. 

He  had  never  had  a  home  life  before,  he 
awkwardly  expatiated,  unsupported  by  a  sign 
of  encouragement  from  Dunsmuir,  even  for  as 
long  as  he  had  lived  in  the  canon ;  never  known 
a  girl  in  her  home  as  he  had  been  privileged 
to  know  — 

He  paused,  and  Dunsmuir  growled : "  I  don't 
know  where  you  got  the  privilege.  The  home 
is  one  thing,  the  office  is  another." 

Philip,  seated  on  the  table-ledge,  thrust  his 
hands  into  his  pockets  to  hide  that  they  were 
trembling.  "  The  distinction  comes  a  trifle 
late,"  he  said. 

"  I  will  thank  you  to  take  note  of  it  now. 
We  have  worked  together  well  enough;  my 
daughter  is  another  matter." 

"  She  is  to  me." 

"  What  is  she  to  you  ?  " 

"  She  is  the  girl  I  hope,  with  your  leave,  to 
marry." 

"  And  how  long  have  you  had  this  hope  ?  " 

"  I  hardly  know,"  said  Philip,  white  with 
stress  of  feeling.  "  I  have  been  trying,  for  some 
time,  to  speak  to  you." 

"  I  don't  know  what  has  prevented  you.  Are 
you  sure  you  have  not  spoken  to  her  ?  "  Duns- 
muir laid  his  keen  blue  eyes  on  Philip's  con- 
scious face. 


"  Ye  have  spoken  !  Deny  it  if  you  can."  His 
big  voice  rang  as  clear  as  a  sheet  of  iron  under 
the  hammer. 

"  Why  should  I  wish  to  deny  it  ?  It  is  the 
American  way  to  speak  to  the  girl  first;  her  an- 
swer is  the  only  one  any  man  would  take." 

"  I  know  nothing  of  your  American  ways. 
But  if  you  have  spoken  to  my  motherless  child 
before  that  you  spoke  to  me,  ye  have  done  me 
a  treachery  worthy  your  father's  son ;  and  you 
may  quit  my  house  !  " 

Philip  jumped  to  his  feet,  and  the  table  re- 
coiled with  a  loud  jar;  for  a  moment  there  was 
no  other  sound  in  the  room.  Then  he  said, 
striving  for  self-control :  "  I  don't  know  whether 
you  consider  yourself  in  a  position  to  insult  my 
father ;  but  I  am  in  no  position  to  answer  you 
as  your  words  deserve.  As  my  father's  son,  or 
as  anybody's  son,  my  record  is  before  you.  .By 
heaven !  I  don't  know  why  fathers  should  be 
so  arrogant.  A  father  is  not  a  god.  If  you  are 
the  one  appointed  to  look  after  Dolly,  it 's  not 
my  fault  if  you  have  neglected  your  business. 
No,  sir;  I  will  finish  now.  I  found  her  here 
where  you  had  fixed  her,  at  the  mercy  of  your 
scheme.  I  was  first,  and  I  took  no  advantage 
that  was  not  simply  a  man's.  If  I  don't  de- 
serve her,  do  men  generally  deserve  the  girls 
they  marry  ?  None  the  less  I  mean  to  make  her 
love  me,  if  I  can.  I  am  not  called  traitor  for 
nothing.  I  shall  take  all  the  chances  now,  what- 
ever comes." 

Dunsmuir  listened  coolly  to  this  explicit 
though  somewhat  mixed  defiance,  and  smiled 
to  himself,  "  The  lad  has  spirit,  after  all."  His 
eyebrows  went  up  like  clouds  after  a  storm;  a 
gleam  of  humor  tugged  at  the  corners  of  his 
grim  mustache.  He  held,  with  most  short-tem- 
pered men,  that  you  cannot  make  a  double- 
dealer  forsake  his  guard;  anger  being  like  drink, 
in  that  it  exposes  a  man.  When,  therefore,  he 
had  seen  this  smooth-mannered  son  of  the 
"  commissioner  "  in  a  fine,  loose-tongued  rage, 
—  with  his  jacket  off,  so  to  speak, —  his  own  tall 
mood  unconsciously  subsided.  Presumably  the 
charge  of  treachery  had  not  come  from  very 
deep. 

"  We  have  taken  a  hot  day  for  it,"  he  re- 
marked, with  moderation,  while  Philip's  men- 
tal reflection  was  that  he  would  be  happy  to 
punch  his  much-desired  father-in-law's  head. 

Dunsmuir  filled  his  pipe,  thrust  his  hands 
into  the  pockets  of  his  loose  riding-breeches, 
and  strode  out  upon  the  blazing  porch,  where 
the  western  sun,  barred  by  shadows  of  the  pil- 
lars, lay  half  across  the  floor.  The  seat  of  his 
wooden  chair  was  as  hot  as  a  hearthstone ;  he 
kicked  it  away,  and  took  a  canvas  one,  stretch- 
ing his  long  length  on  it,  with  a  loud,  obtru- 
sive yawn.  He  was  in  one  of  his  man-childish 
moods,  not  so  lovely  and  pleasant  as  he  might 


7o8 


THE   CHOSEN  VALLEY. 


have  been.  It  might  well  be  doubted  if  at 
Philip's  age  he  had  thought  greatly  of  father's 
rights  himself. 

Philip  went  about  his  preparations  for  leav- 
ing with  the  haste  Dunsmuir's  hint  demanded. 
But  he  proposed  to  retreat  with  his  baggage  in 
good  order,  not  to  have  his  things  hurled  after 
him.  He  swept  a  place  on  the  office  table, 
which  he  heaped  with  small  effects  from  draw- 
ers and  pigeonholes.  Then  he  shot  out  across 
the  hill  bareheaded  to  the  tent  where  the  ju- 
nior assistants  worked,  returning  with  an  arm- 
ful of  drawing-tools  and  rolls  of  paper. 

"  I  suppose  I  may  take  these — copies  of  my 
drawings  for  the  head-works  ?  "  He  indicated, 
without  looking  at  his  chief,  a  roll  of  photo- 
graphic blue-prints. 

"  Take  anything  you  want." 

Half  an  hour  later  Dolly  heard  him  in  the 
atdc  chamber,  dragging  trunks  about  furiously; 
he  was  making  a  lane  for  his  own,  which  were 
stowed  far  back  under  the  eaves,  bitterly 
recalling  meanwhile  how  he  and  Dolly  had 
discussed  their  location  three  months  before. 
They  had  been  civil  to  each  other  in  those 
days,  and  Dolly  had  insisted  that  he  should  take 
the  high  part,  as  he  was  tall,  and  he  had  refused 
because  he  went  less  often  to  his  trunks  than 
she  to  the  family  chests.  No  talk  could  have 
been  smaller,  but  it  was  a  thing  to  remember 
now  when  all  the  little  homely  intimacies  were 
at  an  end.  Already  the  spent  days  and  bygone 
evenings  began  to  glow  and  shine  like  memory 
pictures  in  the  retrospect.  Under  the  eaves  the 
temperature  was  near  to  that  of  the  stoke-hole 
of  a  steamer.  Dolly  opened  the  door,  letting  in 
a  breath  of  freshness  and  a  vision  of  herself, 
on  a  bright  background,  in  a  thin  blue  muslin 
frock. 

"  Leave  it  open,  will  you,  please  ?  I  want  the 
light,"  Philip  panted. 

"  What  are  you  looking  for  ?  It  's  frightful 
in  here  ;  can't  you  wait  till  evening?  " 

"  I  shall  not  be  here  this  evening." 

"  Going  to  town  again  ?  " 

"  I  'm  going  to  leave." 

Dolly  appeared  to  be  closely  considering  a 
veil  of  dust-laden  cobweb  that  wavered  from 
the  nearest  beam. 

"To  leave  the  canon?  Dear  me!  Jenny  must 
sweep  this  place,"  she  parenthesized. 

Philip  gave  her  no  answer.  Down  came  a 
trunk  on  top  of  another  trunk  with  an  offen- 
sive slam. 

"  I  did  n't  understand  you.  Are  you  going 
on  some  other  part  of  the  work  ?  " 

"  I  have  left  the  work." 

"  I  suppose  it 's  none  of  my  business  why  ?  " 

"  It  is;  and  I  don't  mind  telling  you.  I  've 
been  fired." 

"  Not  from  the  work  ?  " 


"  Not  precisely;  only  from  the  house." 

"I  don't  believe  it.  There  must  be  some 
mistake.  It  's  the  silliest  thing  I  ever  heard," 
cried  Dolly,  indignantly. 

"  Silly  if  you  like,  but  quite  true.  Your 
father's  language  is  plain." 

Here  Philip  grappled  with  a  trunk,  hurling 
his  weight  upon  the  handle;  the  bulk  gave 
way  more  quickly  than  he  had  expected,  he 
lurched  forward,  rose  too  suddenly,  and  his 
bump  of  self-esteem  smote  the  rafter  overhead 
with  a  blinding  crash.  He  dropped  sidewise 
on  the  trunk,  and  clutched  his  head,  setting  his 
teeth  upon  the  brutal  pang.  As  if  that  were 
not  enough,  Dolly,  sickening  at  the  sound  of  the 
blow,  began  to  "  poor  "  him  and  pity  him  with 
all  her  might. 

"  Oh,  how  it  hurts  !  "  she  moaned,  as  if  the 
head  had  been  her  own.  She  dropped  on  her 
knees  before  him,  and  begged  to  see  the  place. 
He  shuddered,  feeling  her  cool  hands  take  soft 
hold  of  his  throbbing  wrists,  and  the  natural 
man  in  him  demanded  that  he  snatch  her  in- 
stantly and  kiss  away  the  anguish  of  his  double 
hurt.  Why  not  be  the  traitor  he  had  been 
called  ?  But  the  barbarian  was  not  on  deck 
this  time;  he  subsided,  with  a  groan,  which 
Dolly  thought  was  for  the  aching  head. 

When  Philip  looked  up,  frowning  and  blush- 
ing with  pain,  and  his  clouded  eyes  met  hers 
brimming  with  purest  mother-pity,  he  blessed 
God  that  he  had  not  wounded  her  innocent 
trust,  or  blotted  the  memory  —  all  that  was  left 
him  —  of  their  perfect  days  together  in  the 
canon. 

He  gave  thanks  again,  that  afternoon,  when 
Dunsmuir  made  overtures  of  peace  on  mag- 
nanimous terms,  including  a  withdrawal  of  all 
uncertain  charges. 

About  four  o'clock  the  up-cahon  wind,  fore- 
runner of  a  dust-storm,  began  to  blow.  The 
women  ran  about,  shutting  doors  and  windows, 
and  Dunsmuir  was  driven  in  from  the  porch. 
Dead  leaves,  chips,  bits  of  paper,  whatever  was 
detachable,  drove  past  the  house,  whirled  in 
the  murky  onset  of  the  storm. 

Dunsmuir  heard  the  hammock  slapping  the 
piazza-posts ;  the  willow  rockers  slammed  to 
and  fro ;  one  went  over  with  a  crash,  and  the 
front  door  banged  wide,  filling  the  room  with 
dust.  Every  day  for  six  weeks  Dunsmuir  had 
meant  to  fix  that  latch  ;  he  cursed  it  now,  and 
went  outside  to  pick  up  chairs  and  pile  them 
to  leeward,  locking  the  door  after  him  in  the 
teeth  of  the  storm.  Half  his  letters  and  papers 
were  on  the  floor,  and  where  he  stepped  to  pick 
them  up  he  left  prints  of  his  feet  in  the  dust. 

Philip  came  down-stairs,  pale  from  his  hurt, 
with  bloodshot  eyes.  He  was  dressed  for  the 
road,  and  carried  a  canvas  covert-coat  on  his 
arm.    A  transit-book  he  had  forgotten  showed 


THE   CHOSEN  VALLEY. 


709 


in  the  inside  pocket ;  he  drew  it  out  and  tossed 
it  on  the  desk. 

"  I  '11  send  you  those  vouchers  to-morrow," 
he  said  to  Dunsmuir.  Then  he  asked  which 
of  the  men  should  drive  him  to  town. 

"  Sit  down."  Dunsmuir  looked  at  him  hard. 
"  You  can't  start  till  this  is  over."  He  went  out 
and  gave  an  order  in  the  kitchen,  which  was 
followed  soon  by  Jenny  with  beer  and  biscuits. 

Philip  would  take  neither,  and  Dunsmuir 
finished  the  beer  himself,  feeding  the  biscuits 
to  Jenny's  boy,  who  had  tagged  his  mother  into 
the  room,  and  dechned  to  be  peacefully  evicted. 
Every  few  mouthfuls  the  child  paused  in  his 
copious  eating,  and  pointed  to  the  chimney, 
saying :  "  Hark  !    ^^^in' !  " 

"  Right  you  are,  mannie.  Wind  that  would 
take  the  hair  off  your  head  if  you  were  out  in 
it.  Now  the  little  beggar  's  choking  !  Save  us  ! 
where  's  that  woman  ?  "  Dunsmuir  picked  up 
the  child  by  his  garments,  coughing  and  splut- 
tering, and  handed  him  out  of  the  door  like  a 
puppy. 

"  Have  a  pipe  ?  "  he  suggested  affably,  when 
peace  was  restored,  with  the  sound  of  the  wind 
asserting  itself 

"  Thanks,  I  don't  care  to  smoke,"  said  Philip. 

"  What 's  your  quarrel  with  the  work,  man  ? 
I  never  said  you  could  not  do  your  work." 

"  I  never  said  you  did.  If  you  had,  it  would 
not  have  been  true,"  Philip  answered  roughly. 

"  Then  why  do  you  quit  it  ?  " 

"  Should  you  care  to  work  under  a  man  that 
had  called  you  a  traitor  and  the  son  of  a 
traitor  ?  " 

"  Tush  !  you  would  have  it.  You  brought  it 
on  yourself  Ye  knew  I  was  hit  between  wind 
and  water,  and  the  less  said  about  that  the  bet- 
ter. But  you  need  not  have  come  purring  after 
my  daughter." 

"  The  time  was  ill  chosen,  I  acknowledge ; 
but  the  fact  remains,"  said  Philip. 

"  Let  it  remain,  then.  There  's  no  occasion 
to  meddle  with  it.  You  did  not  come  here  to 
make  love  to  my  daughter." 

"  I  had  not  done  so  —  not  more  than  I  could 
help  —  when  you  opened  on  me.  But  you  have 
relieved  me  of  my  scruples.  I  intend  to  give 
my  mind  to  it  now." 

"  You  said  that  before.  Now  suppose  we 
talk  sense.  It'  s  ill  changing  horses  when 
you  're  crossing  a  stream.  I  don't  deny  that 
I  'd  rather  have  you  than  another  on  this  job, 
now  we  've  started  in.  There  's  little  time  to 
waste,  and  I  might  be  a  month  wiring  back 
and  forth  for  a  man  to  fill  your  place.  Stay 
where  you  are,  and  behave  yourself  cannily, 
and  when  the  right  time  shall  come,  maybe 
we  can  talk  of  it  and  keep  our  hair  on.  I 
would  see  first  if  you  are  a  man  of  your  word 
as  well  as  your  work.    What  's  six  months  to 


serve  for  a  lassie !  When  the  work  is  done, 
when  the  dam  is  in,  why,  then,  if  I  am  content 
with  the  way  you  have  borne  yourself,  we  '11 
speak  of  this  again.  This  is  no  time  for  mar- 
rying or  giving  in  marriage." 

"  1  am  willing  enough  to  wait,"  said  Philip, 
"  if  the  terms  of  waiting  are  not  made  impos- 
sible." 

Dunsmuir  smiled.  "  You  may  look  at  her 
in  reason,  so  far  as  is  needful  to  keep  out  of 
her  way.  No,  no,  lad ;  ye  shall  be  friends. 
Make  each  other's  acquaintance,  but  keep 
to  the  windward  of  promises  and — and  such 
toys.  I  have  some  notion  of  a  man  myself. 
I  'm  not  taking  you  on  trust  altogether  —  and 
I  'm  not  so  ruthless,  nor  so  careless  of  my 
household  as  you  've  had  the  insolence  to 
insinuate.  Now,  shall  we  take  a  fresh  grip  of 
the  work  ?  It  would  be  a  waste  of  good  man- 
material  for  you  and  me  to  quarrel." 

They  looked  each  other  in  the  eyes  hard 
and  long.  Then  Philip  went  to  the  mantel- 
shelf and  filled  him  a  pipe,  and  they  smoked 
together  in  silence,  while  the  wind  fell,  and 
scattering  gleams  from  the  low  sun  showed 
hnes  and  surfaces  of  dust  like  fine  ashes  that 
toned  the  colors  of  the  room. 

"  But  am  I  not  to  have  leave  to  explain  ?  " 
asked  Philip,  frowning  over  the  match  with 
which  he  was  lighting  his  second  pipe.  "  Not 
a  word  before  the  shutting  down  ?  Consider, 
I  have  told  her — " 

"  You  have  told  her  enough,  I  have  little 
doubt.    I  '11  do  the  explaining  myself." 

"But  she  will  think — " 

"  Let  her  think,  and  let  her  fash  herself  with 
thinking.  Philip,  I  mean  this  in  fair  kindness 
to  you  both.  If  the  lassie  cannot  bear  with  a 
touch  of  doubt  beforehand,  do  you  think  you  '11 
be  able  to  satisfy  her  hereafter  ?  Let  her  think, 
and  let  her  misdoubt  and  upbraid  you  in  her 
thoughts.  It  's  what  you  well  deserve,  if  I 
know  what  young  men  are.  A  little  thinking 
beforehand  will  do  you  both  no  harm. 


The  false  position  on  the  work  began  to 
make  itself  felt.  Dunsmuir  settled  into  a  cyni- 
cal tone,  which  he  held  from  this  forth :  that  the 
new  plan  was  well  enough ;  that  the  dam  would 
stand;  that  he  had  been  over-conservative, 
but  was  not  hidebound  or  wedded  to  a  method. 
He  rather  implied  that  Philip  was.  There  was 
a  ghastly  amity  between  the  chief  and  the  man- 
ager, which  Philip  blushed  to  behold. 

The  work  went  on,  but  the  light  of  a  fine  en- 
thusiasm was  gone.  The  changed  atmosphere 
pervaded  the  house.  Dolly  guessed  that  her 
father  and  Philip  disagreed  about  the  work, 
and  that  Philip  had  been  sullen  in  yielding. 


7IO 


THE    CHOSEN   VALLEY. 


She  had  her  own  hesitations  concerning 
Philip.  Alone  with  her  judgment  of  eighteen, 
she  put  this  and  that  together  and  asked  her- 
self what  such  things  meant,  and  Philip  read 
the  doubt  in  her  transparent  face.  He  yearned 
to  make  himself  understood.  He  knew  and  half 
despised  his  graceless  advantage,  first  as  he  was, 
and  strong  in  the  indispensable  offer  of  that 
comradeship  for  which  her  bright  nature  was 
starving.  He  knew  that  she  was  the  child  of 
solitude,  which  makes  sensitive  and  weakens 
the  nerve,  and  darkens  the  chamber  of  the  im- 
agination, through  which  pictures  are  printed 
on  the  soul. 

Yet  he  was  not  brave  or  generous  enough  to 
wait  and  to  trust  to  win  her  in  an  open  field. 
Who  was  he  that  he  should  measure  himself 
with  the  world — ringing  with  men,  with  the 
confusing  shibboleth  of  art  and  culture,  with 
the  pride  of  modern  life,  as  Dolly  could  barely 
conceive  it,  and  with  those  most  subtle  tempta- 
tions which  beset  a  girl  of  spirit  through  her 
longing  to  excel  ?  Therefore  Philip  made  the 
most  of  such  chances  as  his  contract  left  him 
free  of,  and  few  men  could  venture  to  blame 
him ;  and  if  Dolly  did  not  understand,  it  was 
her  bashfulness  and  inexperience  that  defeated 
his  efforts  to  make  her. 

Dolly  was  hearing  gossip  in  these  days.  It 
touched  the  fabric  of  her  dreams,  and  made 
the  appearances  which  were  supposed  to  be 
the  facts  of  her  life  more  puzzling  than  ever. 

"  You  like  Mr.  Norrisson  better  than  you 
did ;  not  so  ?  " 

It  was  Friday  morning,  and  Dolly  was  dust- 
ing in  the  office,  under  her  father's  jealous  su- 
pervision, lest  she  carry  her  ministrations  too  far. 

"  '  Not  so  ?  '  "  he  mimicked ;  and  Dolly,  re- 
membering that  the  phrase  was  one  of  Philip's, 
turned  a  vexed  red. 

"  Well,  well,  keep  your  blushes !  All  our 
speech  is  but  imitation.  What  was  the  ques- 
tion ?  " 

"  It  does  n't  matter." 

"  It  matters  that  you  pout  like  that  at  a 
word.  Come,  repeat  me  the  question !  "  He 
caught  her  hand  as  she  passed  his  chair  and 
drew  her  down  into  his  lap.  She  cast  her 
arms  about  his  neck,  and  burst  into  tears. 
Dunsmuir  expostulated  in  awkward  man-fash- 
ion, and  cried,  "  Come,  come  !  "  and  tried  to 
raise  her  head  and  to  make  her  speak.  She 
dived  into  her  skirt  for  a  handkerchief,  and, 
finding  the  pocket  empty,  begged  in  an  ab- 
ject whisper  for  her  father's.  He  gave  her 
his  ample  silk  one,  and  she  settled  her  face 
into  its  folds  for  a  good  cry.  Already  she  felt 
better;  but  Dunsmuir  was  thinking  severely. 

"  Are  you  keeping  something  from  me, 
Dolly  ?  " 

"No;  I  have  nothing  to  keep,"  said  Dolly, 


forlornly.  "  I  wish  —  Margaret  —  "  She  could 
not  bear  the  piteousness  in  her  own  voice,  and 
a  fresh  burst  followed  the  effort  to  speak. 

"  Yes,  yes;  I  quite  understand,"  said  Duns- 
muir, soothingly.  "  We  are  all  out  of  kilter 
since  Margaret  went.  She  has  spoiled  us, 
every  one.  But  I  have  been  proud  to  see 
how  you  buckle  to  the  housekeeping.  Why, 
Margaret  herself  would  never  beHeve  it.  But 
maybe  you  're  not  mindful  enough  of  your 
own  strength  ?  " 

Dolly  shook  her  head,  and  nestled  closer 
in  response  to  these  paternal  blandishments. 

"  Forgive  my  sulking,"  she  apologized.  "  All 
I  asked  was,  Do  you  not  like  Mr.  Norrisson 
better  since  you  've  known  him  better  ?  " 

"  I  have  always  liked  Philip  Norrisson  in 
a  way." 

"  I  mean  the  father.  Is  he  the  same  man, 
or  is  he  changed  —  or  are  we  changed?" 

Dunsmuir  put  the  girl  gently  off  his  knee, 
and  wheeled  about  in  his  screw-chair  facing  his 
desk.  "  Come,  come  !  "  he  said.  "  Get  these 
shelves  in  order  before  you  forget  where  the 
boxes  belong." 

"  Can  you  not  spare  me  a  few  minutes  ? 
We  scarcely  ever  talk  by  ourselves  any  more. 
I  hear  a  word  here  and  a  word  there,  and 
every  word  is  a  iiing  at  the  name  of  Norris- 
son." She  stood  up  and  braved  the  blush  that 
mounted  to  her  face  as  she  spoke.  "  Once  it 
was  Margaret,  now  it  is  Jenny,  and  even 
Adeline  must  have  her  say,  and  they  are 
people  only  lately  in  the  country.  What  is  it 
that  's  so  well  known,  and  Avhy  do  we  have 
to  condone  it  ?  " 

"  If  you  are  not  above  picking  up  tales  in 
the  kitchen,"  Dunsmuir  interrupted. 

"  Do  you  call  Margaret  '  the  kitchen  '  ?  " 

"  Margaret  cannot  speak  a  word  without 
prejudice,  nor  ever  could  since  I  have  known 
her." 

"  Has  it  been  prejudice  with  you,  then, 
father  ?  Since  I  can  remember, —  until  very 
lately, —  you  have  made  no  secret  of  your  dis- 
dain of  Mr.  Price  Norrisson  and  all  his  works. 
It  is  a  prejudice  your  women  were  brought 
up  on.    Has  there  been  some  mistake  ?  " 

"  The  mistake  is  that  you  should  perplex 
yourself  with  the  matter  at  all.  You  cannot 
know  the  whole;  and  without  the  whole  you 
cannot  understand  a  part.  It  is  a  history  im- 
possible for  one  side  to  tell  with  fairness  to 
the  other." 

"  There  are  still  two  sides,  then  ?  I  had 
supposed  from  present  appearances  that  you 
were  both  on  the  one  side." 

"  Come,  get  alang  wi'  ye  !  Ye  deave  me 
wi'  your  clatter,"  Dunsmuir  evaded.  But  his 
playfulness  sat  grievously  on  him,  and  it  jarred 
upon  his  child. 


THE    CHOSEN   VALLEY. 


711 


"  You  may  joke  and  put  me  oft",  but  it  's  a 
thing  that  cries  for  explanation." 

"  I  am  not  a  man  who  explains.  Go  ask 
Philip  Norrisson  to  expound  his  father  to  you. 
I  should  be  blithe  of  the  young  man's  inter- 
pretation." 

"  I  ask  you  simply,  What  has  he  done  ? 
What  have  you — or  had  you  —  actually 
against  him  ?  And  why  do  poor  people  speak 
of  him  in  the  same  breath  with  their  injuries, 
as  if  he  were  a  public  swindler  ?  " 

"  Is  that  how  the  talk  goes  ?  Why,  bless  me, 
I  supposed  he  was  the  man  on  horseback,  the 
biggest  frog  in  the  puddle.  So  the  people 
have  memories,  after  all  ?  It  must  be  the  sore- 
heads, then;  the  ones  who  got  left.  The  pe- 
culiar disgrace  in  this  country  is  to  '  get  left,' 
you  '11  observe;  to  grumble  is  next  to  it;  the 
two  go  together,  like  cowardice  and  lying." 

'■Are  we  soreheads,  then  ?  Is  that  why  we 
have  grumbled  ?  " 

"You  have  a  shrewd  Scots  tongue,  young 
woman,"  said  Dunsmuir,  with  a  bitter  chuckle. 
"  It  is  well  seen  we  have  had  catechists  in  the 
family." 

"This  may  amuse  you,"  Dolly  answered,  and 
her  lip  trembled.  "  It  reminds  me  that  once 
you  would  not  have  put  me  off  so,  when  I 
had  far  less  reason  for  asking  to  be  satisfied." 

Dunsmuir  considered  her  flushed,  excited 
face,  and  answered  soberly :  "  Dolly,  the 
trouble  between  Price  Norrisson  and  your  fa- 
ther was  never  a  personal  quarrel,  understand; 
it  was  a  difterence  in  our  methods  of  work- 
ing. He  is  a  promoter,  one  who  peddles 
schemes  in  the  money-markets  ;  he  neither 
builds  out  of  his  head  nor  pays  out  of  his 
pocket ;  he  is  the  man  who  talks.  And  I  am 
the  man  who  builds,  wisely  or  fondly  as  the 
case  may  be.  It  is  well  known  we  engineers 
have  a  great  conceit  of  our  own  ideas.  But 
my  plan  was  no  more  to  Norrisson  than  any 
other  man's ;  its  merit  to  him  was  its  price. 
He  was  jealous  of  the  time  spent  pothering 
^^■ith  a  slow  project,  while  he  might  have  been 
reaping  commissions  from  several.  So  he 
patched  up  a  scheme  of  his  own,  which  he  pri- 
vately substituted.  To  do  him  justice,  he  of- 
fered me  half;  but  I  could  not  look  at  it,  from 
the  nature  of  it,  Avhich  was  rotten,  and  he 
was  tired  of  what  he  called  my  ovemiceness ; 
and  that  was  the  break  between  us.  I  dare  say 
I  may  have  been  invidious;  I  was  angry.  And 
he  might  have  been  more  open  with  me.  He 
might  have  waited  to  be  oft"  with  one  deal  be- 
fore he  was  on  with  another.  He  might  after- 
ward have  been  either  for  me  or  against  me, 
and  not  have  kept  a  vengeful  interest  in  my 
scheme,  which  he  used  to  strangle  whenever 
it  showed  signs  of  hfe.  Srill,  that  is  'busi- 
ness,' according  to  the  business  man's  code. 


If  I  could  have  had  a  partner  as  sagacious  and 
plucky  as  Norrisson,  with  a  better  sense  of  faith 
and  a  larger  grasp  of  the  scheme,  we  had  not 
waited  so  long,  perhaps.  Yet  it  has  not  been 
long.  Land-builders  must  be  content  to  work 
as  nature  works.  But  he  had  never  a  concep- 
tion of  the  thing  in  hand;  he  does  not  love 
the  making  of  a  country:  he  wants  the  price 
of  his  dicker,  and  so  away  to  the  next  one. 
The  present  combination,  if  you  insist  on  know- 
ing, was  forced  upon  me.  It  's  a  union  like 
that  between  the  Scots  and  the  English  —  nei- 
ther was  happy  in  it  nor  very  proud  of  it ;  yet 
both  lived,  as  we  shall,  to  reap  its  benefits  and 
to  forget  its  humiliations." 

"  It  is  an  ill-omened  comparison.  Our 
ditch-union,  I  hope,  is  not  a  sale,"  said  Dolly, 
deeply  moved.  "  And  does  the  sun  shine, 
now,  on  you  both  ?  Do  you  remember  how 
you  said  you  would  never  forgive  him  till  he 
stood  out  of  your  sunlight  ?  " 

"A  poor,  silly  speech.  You  would  credit 
me  more  by  forgetting  it.  Men  make  such 
speeches  to  their  women,  Avho  are  indulgent 
to  a  phrase.  The  sun  is  for  him  that  can  make 
hay  while  it  shines.  That  is  what  Norrisson 
did,  in  fine,  when  he  built  his  ditch." 

"  Are  you  now  the  apologist,  papa,  or  the 
historian?" 

"  Are  you  ever  going  to  get  over  that  ill- 
bred  habit  of  retort  ?  It  is  intolerable  in  a 
woman.  You  and  Alan  have  argle-bargled 
till  you  know  no  other  way  of  speaking.  I 
have  answered  your  first  question.  Now  what 
else  have  you  heard,  between  kitchen  and 
parlor?    What  are  the  people's  injuries?" 

"  I  should  like  to  know  the  whole  story  of 
Norrisson's  ditch." 

"Would  you,  indeed?  and  do  you  think 
your  father  is  the  man  to  tell  it  ?  Would  you 
take  for  gospel  Norrisson's  story  of  my  ditch  ?  " 

"  I  will  make  allowance;  but  I  would  have 
it  from  you.  I  ask  you  not  to  spare  whatever 
to  you  is  the  truth." 

"Poor  Norrisson!  If  he  only  knew  that  the 
girls  are  after  his  record.  I  don't  quite  perceive 
the  grounds  of  my  daughter's  interest." 

"  I  should  think  you  might.  He  has  stood 
for  the  enemy  of  my  house  these  years  and 
years ;  now  he  stands  for  the  friend.  I  am  all 
turned  about,  and  I  'm  tired  of  being  put  oft" 
with  phrases." 

Dunsmuir  laughed  at  her  sharpness,  but 
still  with  that  bitter  levity  which  took  away 
her  confidence  in  his  answers.  Dolly  saw  he 
was  talking  speciously,  but  could  imagine  no 
reason  for  his  want  of  frankness. 

"  Well,  then,"  he  began,  "  Norrisson  built  a 
ditch  seventy  miles  long  in  something  less  than 
a  hundred  days.  He  boomed  up  the  lands,  and 
the  settlers  rushed  in;  and  as  most  of  them  were 


712 


HERBERT  MA  PES. 


short  of  cash,  Norrisson's  company  forms  an- 
other company  —  two  names,  but  one  pocket. 
The  loan  and  mortgage  company  advanced 
money  to  the  settlers  on  their  lands,  and  the 
water  company  sold  them  water.  But  the  ditch 
was  got  together  in  such  a  hurry-scurry  that 
it  took  a  year  or  two  to  settle  down  to  regular 
work ;  the  water  was  here  and  there  and  every- 
where but  where  it  was  wanted.  The  first  crops 
went  under,  and  the  first  crop  of  settlers  went 
along  with  them.  There  was  a  terrible  tumble 
in  real  estate;  claims  were  jumped;  there  were 
foreclosures,  contests,  and  scandals,  and  the 
deuce  to  pay  generally.  And  when  the  pie 
was  smashed,  Norrisson  and  his  crowd  gath- 
ered and  picked  out  the  plums.  After  that 
it  was  well  seen  they  could  afford  to  patch  up 
the  leaks  in  their  ditches.  There  was  never  a 
wilder  water-system  on  the  face  of  this  earth, 
yet  somehow  they  have  scrambled  through. 
I  understand  the  farmers  are  making  money 
now.  I  supposed  the  past  was  forgotten,  except 
they  used  it  as  an  election  cry.  What  I  have 
chiefly  against  Norrisson  is  not  personal  to  the 
man.  We  are  fearfully  and  wonderfully  made ; 
honesty  is  comparative,  and  the  best  of  us  can- 
not boast.  It  is  the  man's  methods  of  business 
I  object  to.  He  has  antagonized  the  farmers 
at  the  outset;  he  cinched  them,  there  's  not  a 
doubt;  and  we  are  now  to  reap  the  fruits  of  the 
stone-age  policy.  It  means  a  fight,  and  a  great 
waste  of  the  energies  and  the  money  of  a  new 
community.  And  when  our  big  ditch  is  hned 
with  ranches,  and  the  farmers  poll  more  votes 
than  the  company,  they  '11  have  to  be  bought, 
or  they  '11  swing  the  elections  and  use  their 
power  as  he  has  used  his.  It  is  all  very  corrupt- 
ing, and  a  weariness  to  think  on,  when  there  's  a 


policy  so  much  broader,  which  has  been  proved 
by  the  sad,  wasteful  experience  of  centuries. 
But  it  is  written  that  young  nations  and  young 
lives  shall  never  profit  by  the  mistakes  of  the 
old;  every  life  and  every  country  must  learn 
its  own  lessons.  But  for  an  Old  World  looker- 
on,  who  has  seen  it  all  thrashed  out  before,  it  is 
a  dowie  business." 

"  Then  you  think  Mr.  Norrisson  means  to 
be  honest,  by  his  way  of  thinking  ?  " 

"  I  think  he  means  to  be  a  rich  man." 

"  Have  you  ever  seen  the  beautiful  Mrs. 
Norrisson  ?  " 

"  No;  she  has  never  shown  up  in  this  part 
of  the  country.  I  hear  she  is  disaffected  to- 
ward her  husband  and  her  native  land,  but 
she  accepts  her  living  from  both ;  a  lady  with 
a  small  fist  that  can  hold  a  heap  of  money. 
And  there,  you  see,  is  where  it  befits  to  be 
charitable  to  the  husband  who  has  that  hand 
to  fill.    Small  blame  to  him  if — " 

"  Oh,  I  've  heard  enough  !  "  the  girl  broke 
in  with  a  passionate  gesture.  "  And  where  do 
you  suppose  the  son  comes  from  ?  His  honesty 
is  comparative  too,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  He  is  a  canny  chiel,"  Dunsmuir  answered 
coldly. 

He  watched  Philip  jealously  in  these  days 
of  his  probation ;  took  note  of  his  prudent 
silence  on  a  situation  both  had  agreed  was  im- 
possible—  to  any  but  a  venal  chief  attainable 
through  the  loaves  and  fishes.  Assuredly  the 
young  man  had  powers  of  self-control.  Duns- 
muir watched  him  come  and  go,  faithful  to  the 
work,  yet  uncommitted;  eyed  him  as  Saul  eyed 
David,  and  loved  him  not,  yet  could  find  in 
him  no  cause  of  offense. 


(To  be  concluded  in  the  next  number.) 


Mary  Hallock  Foote. 


HERBERT    MAPES. 


(drowned  august  23,  1891.) 

LAST  night,  what  kingdom  on  his  brow  ! 
What  mellow  music  in  his  voice  ! 
What  strength  to  make  the  eye  rejoice! 
What  life  !  what  flush  of  youth!    .    .    .    and  now! 

O  brow  dethroned!    O  muffled  bell 

Of  speech!    O  net  too  loosely  wove! 

O  sunken  freight  of  hope  and  love! 
Come  back  till  we  have  said  farewell. 

Robert  Underwood  Johnson, 


AN    ELK-HUNT    AT    TWO-OCEAN    PASS. 


NE  fall  with  my  ranch-partner, 
Ferguson,  I  made  an  elk-hunt  in 
northwestern  Wyoming  among 
the  Shoshone  Mountains,  where 
they  join  the  Hoodoo  and 
Absoraka  ranges.  There  is  no 
more  beautiful  game-country 
in  the  United  States.  It  is  a  park-land,  where 
glades,  meadows,  and  high  mountain  pastures 
break  the  evergreen  forest:  a  forest  which  is 
open  compared  to  the  tangled  density  of  the 
woodland  farther  north.  It  is  a  high,  cold  region 
of  many  lakes  and  clear,  rushing  streams.  The 
steep  mountains  are  generally  of  the  rounded 
form  so  often  seen  in  the  ranges  of  the  Cordil- 
leras of  the  United  States  ;  but  the  Hoodoos, 
or  Goblins,  are  carved  in  fantastic  and  extra- 
ordinary shapes  ;  while  the  Tetons,  a  group  of 
isolated  rock  peaks,  show  a  striking  boldness 
in  their  lofty  outlines. 

This  was  one  of  the  pleasantest  hunts  I  ever 
made.  As  always  in  the  mountains,  save  where 
the  country  is  so  rough  and  so  densely  wooded 
that  one  must  go  afoot,  we  had  a  pack-train ; 
and  we  took  a  more  complete  outfit  than 
we  had  ever  before  taken  on  such  a  hunt,  and 
so  traveled  in  much  comfort.  Usually,  when 
in  the  mountains,  I  have  merely  had  one 
companion,  or  at  most  two,  and  two  or 
three  pack-ponies ;  each  of  us  doing  his  share 
of  the  packing,  cooking,  fetching  water,  and 
pitching  the  small  square  of  canvas  which 
served  as  tent.  In  itself  packing  is  both  an  art 
and  a  mystery,  and  a  skilful  professional  packer, 
versed  in  the  intricacies  of  the  "  diamond 
hitch,"  packs  with  a  speed  which  no  non-pro- 
fessional can  hope  to  rival,  and  fixes  the  side 
packs  and  top  packs  with  such  scientific  nicety, 
and  adjusts  the  doubles  and  turns  of  the  lash- 
rope  so  accurately,  that  everything  stays  in 
place  under  any  but  the  most  adverse  condi- 
tions. Of  course,  like  most  hunters,  I  myself 
can  in  case  of  need  throw  the  diamond  hitch, 
after  a  fashion,  and  pack  on  either  the  off  or  near 
side.  Indeed,  unless  a  man  can  pack,  it  is  not 
possible  to  make  a  really  hard  hunt  in  the 
mountains,  if  alone,  or  with  only  a  single  com- 
panion. The  mere  fair-weather  hunter,  who 
trusts  entirely  to  the  exertions  of  others,  and 
does  nothing  more  than  ride  or  walk  about 
under  favorable  circumstances,  and  shoot  at 
what  somebody  else  shows  him,  is  a  hunter  in 
name  only.  Whoever  would  really  deserve  the 
title  must  be  able  at  a  pinch  to  shift  for  himself, 
to  grapple  with  the  difficulties  and  hardships  of 
Vol.  XLIV.  —  93. 


wilderness  life  unaided,  and  not  only  to  hunt, 
but  at  times  to  travel  for  days,  whether  on  foot 
or  on  horseback,  alone.  However,  after  one 
has  passed  one's  novitiate,  it  is  pleasant  to  be 
comfortable  when  the  comfort  does  not  inter- 
fere with  the  sport;  and  although  a  man  some- 
times likes  to  hunt  alone,  yet  often  it  is  well  to 
be  with  some  old  mountain  hunter,  a  master  of 
woodcraft,  who  is  a  first-rate  hand  at  finding 
game,  creeping  upon  it,  and  tracking  it  when 
wounded.  With  such  a  companion  one  gets 
much  more  game,  and  learns  many  things  by 
observation  instead  of  by  painful  experience. 
On  this  trip  we  had  with  us  two  hunters,Taze- 
well  Woody  and  Elwood  Hofer,  a  packer  who 
acted  as  cook,  and  a  boy  to  herd  the  horses.  Of 
the  latter  there  were  twenty;  six  saddle-animals 
and  fourteen  for  the  packs,  two  or  three  being 
spare  horses,  to  be  used  later  in  carrying  the 
elk-antlers,  sheep-horns,  and  other  trophies. 
Like  most  hunters'  pack-animals,  they  were 
either  half  broken,  or  else  broken  down ;  tough, 
unkempt,  jaded-looking  beasts  of  every  color 
—  sorrel,  buckskin,  pinto,  white,  bay,  roan. 
After  the  day's  work  was  over,  they  were  turned 
loose  to  shift  for  themselves ;  and  about  once 
a  week  they  strayed,  and  all  hands  had  to 
spend  the  better  part  of  the  day  hunting  for 
them.  The  worst  ones  for  straying,  curiously 
enough,  were  three  broken-down  old  "  bear- 
baits,"  which  went  by  themselves,  as  is  gener- 
ally the  case  with  the  cast-ofif  horses  of  a  herd. 
There  were  two  sleeping-tents,  another  for  the 
provisions, —  in  which  we  ate  during  bad 
weather, —  and  a  canvas^  tepee,  which  was 
put  up  with  lodge-poles,  Indian  fashion,  like 
a  wigwam.  A  tepee  is  more  difficult  to  put 
up  than  an  ordinary  tent;  but  it  is  very  con- 
venient when  there  is  rain  or  snow.  A  small 
fire  kindled  in  the  middle  keeps  it  warm,  the 
smoke  escaping  through  the  open  top;  that 
is,  when  it  escapes  at  all.  Strings  are  passed 
from  one  pole  to  another,  on  which  to  hang 
wet  clothes  and  shoes,  and  the  beds  are  made 
round  the  edges.  As  an  offset  to  the  warmth 
and  shelter,  the  smoke  often  renders  it  im- 
possible even  to  sit  upright.  We  had  a  very 
good  camp-kit,  including  plenty  of  cooking- 
and  eating-utensils ;  and  among  our  provisions 
were  some  canned  goods  and  sweetmeats,  to 
give  a  relish  to  our  meals  of  meat  and  bread. 
We  had  fur  coats  and  warm  clothes,  which  are 
chiefly  needed  at  night,  and  plenty  of  bed- 
ding, including  water-proof  canvas  sheeting 
and  two  caribou-hide  sleeping-bags,  procured 


714 


AN  ELK-HUNT  AT  TWO-OCEAN  PASS. 


from  the  survivors  of  a  party  of  arctic  explorers. 
Except  on  rainy  days  I  used  my  buckskin 
hunting-shirt  or  tunic  ;  in  dry  weather  I  deem 
it,  because  of  its  color,  texture,  and  durability, 
the  best  possible  garb  for  the  still-hunter,  espe- 
cially in  the  woods. 

Starting  a  day's  journey  south  of  Heart  Lake, 
we  traveled  and  hunted  on  the  eastern  edge 
of  the  great  basin,  wooded  and  mountainous, 
wherein  rise  the  head  waters  of  the  mighty 
Snake  River.  There  was  not  so  much  as  a 
spotted  line, —  that  series  of  blazes  made  with 
the  ax,  man's  first  highway  through  the  hoary 
forest, —  but  this  we  did  not  mind,  as  for  most 
of  the  distance  we  followed  well-worn  elk-trails. 
The  train  traveled  in  Indian  file.  At  the  head, 
to  pick  the  path,  rode  tall,  silent  old  Woody, 
a  true  type  of  the  fast-vanishing  race  of  game- 
hunters  and  Indian-fighters,  a  man  who  had 
been  one  of  the  Cahfomia  forty-niners,  and  who 
ever  since  had  lived  the  restless,  reckless  life  of 
the  wilderness.  Then  came  Ferguson  and  I ; 
then  the  pack-animals,  strung  out  in  line; 
while  from  the  rear  rose  the  varied  oaths  of  our 
three  companions,  whose  miserable  duty  it  was 
to  urge  forward  the  beasts  of  burden. 

Itis  heart-breaking  work  to  drive  a  pack-train 
through  thick  timber  and  over  mountains,  where 
there  is  either  a  dim  trail  or  none.  The  animals 
have  a  perverse  faculty  for  choosing  the  wrong 
turn  at  critical  moments,  and  they  are  continu- 
ally scraping  under  branches  and  squeezing  be- 
tween tree-trunks,  to  the  jeopardy  or  destruction 
of  their  burdens.  After  having  been  laboriously 
driven  up  a  very  steep  incline,  at  the  cost  of 
severe  exertion  both  to  them  and  to  the  men, 
the  foolish  creatures  turn  and  run  down  to  the 
bottom,  so  that  all  the  work  has  to  be  done  over 
again.  Some  travel  too  slow,  others  travel  too 
fast;  yet  one  cannot  but  admire  the  toughness 
of  the  animals,  and  the  sure-footedness  with 
which  they  pick  their  way  along  the  sheer  moun- 
tain-sides, or  among  boulders  and  over  fallen 
logs. 

As  our  way  was  so  rough,  we  found  that  we 
had  to  halt  at  least  once  every  hour  to  fix  the 
packs.  Moreover,  we  at  the  head  of  the  column 
were  continually  being  appealed  to  for  help  by 
the  unfortunates  in  the  rear.  First  it  would  be 
"  that  white-eyed  cayuse;  one  side  of  its  pack  's 
down ! "  then  we  would  be  notified  that  the 
saddle-blanket  of  the  "  lop-eared  Indian  buck- 
skin "had  sli})ped  back;  then  a  shout  "Look  out 
for  the  pinto ! "  would  be  followed  by  that  pleas- 
ing beast's  appearance,  bucking  and  squealing, 
smashing  dead  timber,  and  scattering  its  load 
to  the  four  winds.  It  was  no  easy  task  to  get 
the  horses  across  some  of  the  boggy  places 
without  miring,  or  to  force  them  through  the 
denser  portions  of  the  forest,  where  there  was 
much  down  timber.   Riding  with  a  pack-train. 


day  in  and  day  out,  becomes  both  monotonous 
and  irritating,  unless  one  is  upheld  by  the  hope 
of  a  game-country  ahead,  or  by  the  delight  of 
exploration  of  the  unknown.  Yet  when  buoyed 
by  such  a  hope,  there  is  pleasure  in  taking  a 
train  across  so  beautiful  and  wild  a  country  as 
that  which  lay  on  the  threshold  of  our  hunting- 
grounds  in  the  Shoshones.  We  went  over  moun- 
tain passes,  with  ranges  of  scalped  peaks  on 
each  hand;  we  skirted  the  edges  of  lovely 
lakes,  and  of  streams  with  boulder-strewn  beds; 
we  plunged  into  depths  of  somber  woodland, 
broken  by  wet  prairies.  It  was  a  picturesque 
sight  to  see  the  loaded  pack-train  stringing 
across  one  of  these  high  mountain  meadows, 
the  motley-colored  line  of  ponies  winding  round 
the  marshy  spots  through  the  bright  green 
grass,  while  beyond  rose  the  dark  hne  of  frown- 
ing forest,  with  lofty  peaks  towering  in  the  back- 
ground. Some  of  the  meadows  were  beautiful 
with  many  flowers — goldenrod,  purple  aster, 
bluebells,  white  immortelles,  and  here  and  there 
masses  of  blood-red  Indian  pinks.  In  the  park- 
country,  on  the  edges  of  the  evergreen  forest, 
were  groves  of  delicate  quaking-aspen,  the  trees 
often  growing  to  a  considerable  height;  their 
tremulous  leaves  were  already  changing  to 
bright  green  and  yellow,  occasionally  with  a 
reddish  blush.  In  the  Rocky  Mountains  the 
aspens  are  almost  the  only  deciduous  trees, 
their  foliage  offering  a  pleasant  relief  to  the  eye 
after  the  monotony  of  the  unending  pine  and 
spruce  woods,  which  afford  so  striking  a  contrast 
to  the  hard-wood  forest  east  of  the  Mississippi. 

For  two  days  our  journey  was  uneventful, 
save  that  we  came  on  the  camp  of  a  squaw- 
man,  one  Beaver  Dick,  an  old  mountain 
hunter,  living  in  a  skin  tepee,  where  dwelt  his 
comely  Indian  wife  and  half-breed  children. 
He  had  quite  a  herd  of  horses,  many  of  them 
mares  and  colts ;  they  had  evidently  been  well 
treated,  and  came  up  to  us  fearlessly. 

The  morning  of  the  third  day  of  our  journey 
was  gray  and  lowering.  Gusts  of  rain  blew  in 
my  face  as  I  rode  at  the  head  of  the  train.  It 
still  lacked  an  hour  of  noon,  as  we  were  plod- 
ding up  a  valley,  beside  a  rapid  brook  running 
through  narrow  willow-flats,  with  the  dark  for- 
est crowding  down  on  each  hand  from  the  low 
foot-hills  of  the  mountains.  Suddenly  the  call 
of  a  bull  elk  came  echoing  down  through  the 
wet  woodland  on  our  right,  beyond  the  brook, 
seemingly  less  than  half  a  mile  off,  and  was 
answered  by  a  faint,  far-off  call  from  a  rival  on 
the  mountain  beyond.  Instantly  halting  the 
train.  Woody  and  I  slipped  off,  our  horses, 
crossed  the  brook,  and  started  to  still-hunt  the 
first  bull. 

In  this  place  the  forest  was  composed  of  the 
western  tamarack;  the  large,  tall  trees  stood 
well  apart,  and  there  was  much  down  timber, 


AN  ELK-HUNT  AT  TWO-OCEAN  PASS. 


715 


but  the  ground  was  covered  with  deep,  wet 
moss,  over  which  we  trod  silently.  The  elk 
was  traveling  up-wind,  but  slowly,  stopping 
continually  to  paw  the  ground  and  to  thrash  the 
bushes  with  his  antlers.  He  was  very  noisy, 
challenging  every  minute  or  two,  being  doubt- 
less much  excited  by  the  neighborhood  of  his 
rival  on  the  mountain.  We  followed,  Woody 
leading,  guided  by  the  incessant  calling. 

It  was  very  exciting  as  we  crept  toward  the 
great  bull,  and  the  challenge  sounded  nearer 
and  nearer.  \Vhile  we  were  still  at  some  dis- 
tance the  pealing  notes  were  like  those  of  a 
bugle,  delivered  in  two  bars,  first  rising,  then 
abruptly  falling;  as  we  drew  nearer  they  took 
on  a  harsh,  squealing  sound.  Each  call  made 
our  veins  thrill ;  it  sounded  like  the  cry  of 
some  huge  beast  of  prey.  At  last  we  heard 
the  roar  of  the  challenge  not  eighty  yards  off. 
Stealing  forward  three  or  four  rods,  I  saw  the 
tips  of  the  horns  through  a  mass  of  dead  tim- 
ber and  young  growth,  and  slipped  to  one 
side  to  get  a  clean  shot.  Seeing  us,  but  not 
making  out  what  we  were,  and  full  of  fierce  and 
insolent  excitement,  the  wapiti  bull  stepped 
boldly  toward  us  with  a  stately,  swinging  gait. 
Then  he  stood  motionless,  facing  us,  barely 
fifty  yards  away,  his  handsome  twelve-tined 
antlers  tossed  aloft,  as  he  held  his  head  with 
the  lordly  grace  of  his  kind.  I  fired  into  his 
chest,  and  as  he  turned  I  raced  forward  and 
shot  him  in  the  flank ;  but  the  second  bullet 
was  not  needed,  for  the  first  wound  was  mor- 
tal, and  he  fell  before  going  fifty  yards. 

The  dead  elk  lay  among  the  young  ever- 
greens. The  huge,  shapely  body  was  set  on 
legs  that  were  as  strong  as  steel  rods,  and  yet 
slender,  clean,  and  smooth ;  they  were  in  color 
a  beautiful  dark  brown,  contrasting  well  with 
the  yellowish  of  the  body.  The  neck  and  throat 
were  garnished  with  a  mane  of  long  hair ;  the 
symmetry  of  the  great  horns  set  off  the  fine, 
delicate  lines  of  the  noble  head.  He  had  been 
wallowing,  as  elk  are  fond  of  doing,  and  the 
dried  mud  clung  in  patches  to  his  flank ;  a  stab 
in  the  haunch  showed  that  he  had  been  over- 
come in  battle  by  some  master  bull,  who  had 
turned  him  out  of  the  herd. 

We  cut  off  the  head,  and  bore  it  down  to 
the  train.  The  horses  crowded  together,  snort- 
ing, with  their  ears  pricked  forward,  as  they 
smelled  the  blood.  We  also  took  the  loins  with 
us,  as  we  were  out  of  meat,  though  bull  elk 
in  the  rutting  season  is  not  very  good.  The 
rain  had  changed  to  a  steady  downpour  when 
we  again  got  under  way.  Two  or  three  miles 
further  we  pitched  camp  in  a  clump  of  pines 
on  a  hillock  in  the  bottom  of  the  valley,  start- 
ing hot  fires  of  pitchy  stumps  before  the  tents, 
to  dry  our  wet  things. 

Next  day  opened  with  fog  and  cold  rain.  The 


drenched  pack-animals,  when  driven  into 
camp,  stood  mopingly,  with  drooping  heads 
and  arched  backs ;  they  groaned  and  grunted  as 
the  loads  were  placed  on  their  backs  and  the 
cinches  tightened,  the  packers  bracing  one  foot 
against  the  pack  to  get  a  purchase  as  they 
hauled  in  on  the  lash-rope.  A  stormy  morn- 
ing is  a  trial  to  temper :  the  packs  are  wet  and 
heavy,  and  the  cold  makes  the  work  even  more 
than  usually  hard  on  the  hands.  By  ten  we 
broke  camp.  It  needs  between  two  and  three 
hours  to  break  camp  and  to  get  such  a  train 
properly  packed  ;  once  started,  our  day's  jour- 
ney was  from  six  to  eight  hours  long,  making  no 
halt.  We  started  up  a  steep,  pine-clad  mountain- 
side, broken  by  cHfts.  My  hunting-shoes,  though 
comfortable,  were  old  and  thin,  and  let  the  wa- 
ter through  like  a  sieve.  On  the  top  of  the  first 
plateau,  where  black-spruce  groves  were  strewn 
across  the  grassy  surface,  we  saw  a  band  of  elk, 
cows  and  calves,  trotting  off  through  the  rain. 
Then  we  plunged  down  into  a  deep  valley,  and, 
crossing  it,  a  hard  climb  took  us  to  the  top  of 
a  great  bare  table-land,  bleak  and  wind-swept. 
We  passed  little  alpine  lakes,  fringed  with  scat- 
tering dwarf  evergreens.  Snow  lay  in  drifts  on 
the  north  sides  of  the  gullies ;  a  cutting  wind 
blew  the  icy  rain  in  our  faces.  For  two  or  three 
hours  we  traveled  toward  the  farther  edge  of 
the  table-land.  In  one  place  a  spike-bull  elk 
stood  half  a  mile  oft'  in  the  open ;  he  traveled 
to  and  fro,  watching  us. 

As  we  neared  the  edge  the  storm  lulled,  and 
pale,  watery  sunshine  gleamed  through  the  rifts 
in  the  low-scudding  clouds.  At  last  our  horses 
stood  on  the  brink  of  a  bold  cliff.  Deep  down 
beneath  our  feet  lay  the  wild  and  lonely  val- 
ley of  Two-Ocean  Pass,  walled  in  on  each 
hand  by  rugged  mountain-chains,  their  flanks 
scarred  and  gashed  by  precipice  and  chasm. 
Beyond,  in  a  wilderness  of  jagged  and  barren 
peaks,  stretched  the  Shoshones.  At  the  middle 
point  of  the  pass  two  streams  welled  down  from 
each  side.  At  first  each  flowed  in  but  one  bed, 
but  soon  divided  into  two ;  each  of  the  twin 
branches  then  joined  the  Hke  branch  of  the 
brook  opposite,  and  swept  one  to  the  east  and 
one  to  the  west,  on  their  long  journey  to  the 
two  great  oceans.  They  ran  as  rapid  brooks, 
through  wet  meadows  and  willow-flats,  the 
eastern  to  the  Yellowstone,  the  western  to  the 
Snake.  The  dark  pine  forests  swept  down 
from  the  flanks  and  lower  ridges  of  the  moun- 
tains to  the  edges  of  the  marshy  valley.  Above 
them  jutted  gray  rock  peaks,  snow-drifts  lying 
in  the  rents  that  seamed  their  northern  faces. 
Far  below  us,  from  a  great  basin  at  the  foot 
of  the  cliff,  filled  with  the  pine  forest,  rose  the 
musical  challenge  of  a  bull  elk;  and  we  saw  a 
band  of  cows  and  calves  looking  like  mice  as 
they  ran  among  the  trees. 


7i6 


AjV  ELK-HUNT  AT  TWO-OCEAN  PASS. 


It  was  getting  late,  and  after  some  search 
we  failed  to  find  any  trail  leading  down ;  so  at 
last  we  plunged  over  the  brink  at  a  venture. 
It  was  very  rough  scrambling,  dropping  from 
bench  to  bench,  and  in  places  it  was  not  only 
difticult  but  dangerous  for  the  loaded  pack- 
animals.  Here  and  there  we  were  helped  by 
well-beaten  elk-trails,  which  we  could  follow 
for  several  hundred  yards  at  a  time.  On  one 
narrow  pine-clad  ledge  we  met  a  spike-bull  face 
to  face,  and  in  scrambling  down  a  very  steep, 
bare,  rock-strewn  shoulder  the  loose  stones 
started  by  the  horses'  hoofs,  bounding  in  great 
leaps  to  the  forest  below,  dislodged  two  cows. 

As  evening  fell,  we  reached  the  bottom,  and 
pitched  camp  in  a  beautiful  point  of  open  pine 
forest  thrust  out  into  the  meadow.  There  we 
found  good  shelter  and  plenty  of  wood,  water, 
and  grass ;  we  built  a  huge  fire  and  put  up  our 
tents,  scattering  them  in  likely  places  among  the 
pines,  which  grew  far  apart  and  without  under- 
growth. We  dried  our  steaming  clothes,  and  ate 
a  hearty  supper  of  elk-meat ;  then  we  turned  into 
our  beds,  warm  and  dry ,  and  slept  soundly  under 
the  canvas,  while  all  night  long  the  storm  roared 
without.  Next  morning  it  still  stormed  fitfully ; 
the  high  peaks  and  ridges  round  about  were 
all  capped  with  snow.  Woody  and  I  started 
on  foot  for  an  all-day  tramp ;  the  amount  of 
game  seen  the  day  before  showed  that  we  were 
in  a  good  elk-country,  where  the  elk  had  been 
so  little  disturbed  that  they  were  traveling,  feed- 
ing, and  whistling  in  daylight.  For  three  hours 
We  walked  across  the  forest-clad  spurs  of  the 
foot-hills.  We  roused  a  small  band  of  elk  in 
thick  timber;  but  they  rushed  off  before  we  saw 
them,  with  much  smashing  of  dead  branches. 
Then  we  climbed  to  the  summit  of  the  range. 
The  wind  was  light  and  baffling ;  it  blew  from 
all  points,  veering  every  few  minutes.  There 
were  occasional  rain-squalls  ;  our  feet  and  legs 
were  well  soaked ;  and  we  became  chilled 
through  whenever  we  sat  down  to  listen.  We 
caught  a  glimpse  of  a  big  bull  feeding  up-hill, 
and  followed  him;  it  neede'd  smart  running  to 
overtake  him,  for  an  elk,  even  while  feeding,  has 
a  ground-covering  gait.  Finally  we  got  within  a 
hundred  and  twenty-five  yards,  but  in  very  thick 
timber,  and  all  I  could  see  plainly  was  the  hip 
and  the  after  part  of  the  flank.  I  waited  for  a 
chance  at  the  shoulder,  but  the  bull  got  my  wind 
and  was  off  before  I  could  pull  trigger.  It  was 
just  one  of  those  occasions  when  there  are  two 
courses  to  pursue,  neither  very  good,  and  when 
one  is  apt  to  regret  whichever  decision  is  made. 

At  noon  we  came  to  the  edge  of  a  deep  and 
wide  gorge,  and  sat  down  shivering  to  await 
what  might  turn  up,  our  fingers  numb,  and  our 
wet  feet  icy.  Suddenly  the  love-challenge  of 
an  elk  came  pealing  across  the  gorge,  through 
the  fine,  cold  rain,  from  the  heart  of  the  forest 


opposite.  An  hour's  stiff  climb,  down  and  up, 
brought  us  nearly  to  him;  but  the  wind  forced 
us  to  advance  from  below  through  a  series  of 
open  glades.  He  was  lying  on  a  point  of  the 
chff-shoulder,  surrounded  by  his  cows  ;  and  he 
saw  us,  and  made  off.  An  hour  afterward,  as  we 
were  trudging  up  a  steep  hillside  dotted  with 
groves  of  fir  and  spruce,  a  young  bull  of  ten 
points,  roused  from  his  day-bed  by  our  ap- 
proach, galloped  across  us  some  sixty  yards  off. 
We  were  in  need  of  better  venison  than  can  be 
furnished  by  an  old  rutting  bull,  so  I  instantly 
took  a  shot  at  the  fat  and  tender  young  ten- 
pointer.  I  aimed  well  ahead,  and  pulled  trigger 
just  as  he  came  to  a  small  gully,  and  he  fell  into 
it  in  a  heap  with  a  resounding  crash.  On  the 
way  back  that  afternoon  I  shot  off  the  heads  of 
two  blue  grouse,  as  they  perched  in  the  pines. 

That  evening  the  storm  broke,  and  the 
weather  became  clear  and  very  cold,  so  that 
the  snow  made  the  frosty  mountains  gleam  like 
silver.  The  moon  was  full,  and  in  the  flood  of 
light  the  wild  scenery  round  our  camp  was  very 
beautiful.  As  always  where  we  camped  for  sev- 
eral days,  we  had  fixed  long  tables  and  settles, 
and  were  most  comfortable;  and  when  we 
came  in  at  nightfall,  or  sometimes  long  after- 
ward, cold,  tired,  and  hungry,  it  was  sheer  phys- 
ical delight  to  get  warm  before  the  roaring  fire 
of  pitchy  stumps,  and  then  to  feast  ravenously 
on  bread  and  beans,  on  stewed  or  roasted  elk 
venison,  on  grouse,  and  sometimes  trout,  and 
flapjacks  with  maple  syrup. 

Next  morning  dawned  clear  and  cold,  the 
sky  a  glorious  blue.  Woody  and  I  started  to 
hunt  over  the  great  table-land,  and  led  our 
stout  horses  up  the  mountain-side  by  elk-trails 
so  bad  that  they  had  to  climb  like  goats.  All 
these  elk-trails  have  one  striking  peculiarity : 
they  lead  through  thick  timber,  but  every  now 
and  then  send  off  short,  well-worn  branches  to 
some  cliff-edge  or  jutting  crag,  commanding  a 
view  far  and  wide  over  the  country  beneath. 
Elk  love  to  stand  on  these  lookout  points,  and 
scan  the  valleys  and  mountains  round  about. 

Blue  grouse  rose  from  beside  our  path; 
Clarke's  crows  flew  past  us,  with  a  hollow,  flap- 
ping sound,  or  lighted  in  the  pine-tops,  calling 
and  flirting  their  tails ;  the  gray-clad  whisky- 
jacks,  with  multitudinous  cries,  hopped  and 
fluttered  near  us.  Snow-shoe  rabbits  scuttled 
away,  the  great  furry  feet  which  give  them  their 
name  already  turning  white.  At  last  we  came 
out  on  the  great  plateau,  seamed  with  deep, 
narrow  ravines.  Reaches  of  pasture  alternated 
with  groves  and  open  forests  of  varying  size. 
Almost  immediately  we  heard  the  bugle  of  a  bull 
elk,  and  saw  a  big  band  of  cows  and  calves  on 
the  other  side  of  a  valley.  There  were  three 
bulls  with  them,  one  very  large,  and  we  tried 
to  creep  up  on  them ;  but  the  wind  was  baf- 


AN  ELK-HUNT  AT  TWO-OCEAN  PASS. 


717 


fling,  and  spoiled  our  stalk.  So  we  returned  to 
our  horses,  mounted  them,  and  rode  a  mile 
farther,  toward  a  large  open  wood  on  a  hill- 
side. When  within  two  hundred  yards  we 
heard  directly  ahead  the  bugle  of  a  bull,  and 
pulled  up  short.  In  a  moment  I  saw  him  walk- 
ing through  an  open  glade ;  he  had  not  seen 
us.  The  slight  breeze  brought  us  his  scent. 
Elk  have  a  strong  characteristic  smell;  it  is 
usually  sweet,  like  that  of  a  herd  of  Aldemey 
cows,  but  in  old  bulls,  while  rutting,  it  is  rank, 
pungent,  and  lasting.  We  stood  motionless  till 
the  bull  was  out  of  sight,  then  stole  to  the 
wood,  tied  our  horses,  and  trotted  after  him. 
He  was  traveling  fast,  occasionally  calling, 
whereupon  others  in  the  neighborhood  would 
answer.  Evidently  he  had  been  driven  out  of 
some  herd  by  the  master  bull. 

He  went  faster  than  we  did,  and  while  we 
were  vainly  trying  to  overtake  him  we  heard 
another  very  loud  and  sonorous  challenge  to 
our  left.  It  came  from  a  ridge-crest  at  the  edge 
of  the  woods,  among  some  scattered  clumps  of 
the  northern  nut-pine,  or  piiion,  a  queer  coni- 
fer, growing  very  high  on  the  mountains,its  mul- 
tiforked  trunk  and  wide-spreading  branches 
giving  it  the  rounded  top  and,  at  a  distance, 
the  general  look  of  an  oak  rather  than  a  pine. 
We  at  once  walked  toward  the  ridge,  up-wind. 
In  a  minute  or  two,  to  our  chagrin,  we  stum- 
bled on  an  outlying  spike-bull,  evidently  kept 
on  the  outskirts  of  the  herd  by  the  master  bull. 
I  thought  it  would  alarm  all  the  rest;  but,  as  we 
stood  motionless,  it  could  not  see  clearly  what 
we  were.  It  stood,  ran,  stood  again,  gazed  at 
us,  and  trotted  slowly  off.  We  hurried  forward 
as  fast  as  we  dared,  and  with  too  little  care,  for 
we  suddenly  came  in  view  of  two  cows.  As 
they  raised  their  heads  to  look,  Woody  squatted 
down  where  he  was,  to  keep  their  attention 
fixed,  while  I  cautiously  tried  to  slip  off  to  one 
side  unobserved.  Favored  by  the  neutral  tint 
of  my  buckskin  hunting-shirt,  with  which  my 
shoes,  leggings,  and  soft  hat  matched,  I  suc- 
ceeded. As  soon  as  I  was  out  of  sight,  I  ran 
hard  and  came  up  to  a  hillock  crested  with 
pihons,  behind  which  I  judged  I  should  find 
the  herd.  As  I  approached  the  crest,  their 
strong,  sweet  smell  smote  my  nostrils.  In  an- 
other moment  I  saw  the  tips  of  a  pair  of  mighty 
antlers,  and  I  peered  over  the  crest  with  my 
rifle  at  the  ready.  Thirty  yards  off,  behind  a 
clump  of  pihons,  stood  a  huge  bull,  his  head 
thrown  back  as  he  rubbed  his  shoulders  with 
his  horns.  There  were  several  cows  around 
him,  and  one  saw  me  immediately,  and  took 
alarm.  I  fired  into  the  bull's  shoulder,  inflict- 
ing a  mortal  wound;  but  he  went  off,  and  I 
raced  after  him  at  top  speed,  firing  twice  into 
his  flank;  then  he  stopped,  very  sick,  and  I 
broke  his  neck  with  a  fourth  bullet.    An  elk 


often  hesitates  in  the  first  moments  of  surprise 
and  fright,  and  does  not  get  really  under  way 
for  two  or  three. hundred  yards;  but  when  once 
fairly  started,  he  may  go  several  miles,  even 
though  mortally  wounded ;  therefore,  the  hun- 
ter, after  his  first  shot,  should  run  forward  as 
fast  as  he  can,  and  shoot  again  and  again  until 
the  quarry  drops.  In  this  way  many  animals 
that  would  otherwise  be  lost  are  obtained,  es- 
pecially by  the  man  who  has  a  repeating-rifle. 
Nevertheless  the  hunter  should  beware  of  being 
led  astray  by  the  ease  with  which  he  can  fire  half 
a  dozen  shots  from  his  repeater;  and  he  should 
aim  as  carefully  with  each  shot  as  if  it  were  his 
last.  No  possible  rapidity  of  fire  can  atone  for 
habitual  carelessness  of  aim  with  the  first  shot. 

The  elk  I  thus  slew  was  a  giant.  His  body 
was  the  size  of  a  steer's,  and  his  antlers,  though 
not  unusually  long,  were  very  massive  and 
heavy.  He  lay  in  a  glade,  on  the  edge  of  a 
great  cliff.  Standing  on  its  brink,  we  overlooked 
a  most  beautiful  country,  the  home  of  all  homes 
for  the  elk :  a  wilderness  of  mountains,  the  im- 
mense evergreen  forest  broken  by  park  and 
glade,  by  meadow  and  pasture,  by  bare  hill- 
side and  barren  table-land.  Some  five  miles  off 
lay  the  sheet  of  water  known  to  the  old  hunters 
as  Spotted  Lake ;  two  or  three  shallow,  sedgy 
places,  and  spots  of  geyser  formation  made 
pale  green  blotches  on  its  wind-rippled  surface. 
Far  to  the  southwest,  in  daring  beauty  and  maj- 
esty, the  grand  domes  and  lofty  spires  of  the 
Tetons  shot  into  the  blue  sky.  Too  sheer  for 
the  snow  to  rest  on  their  sides,  it  yet  filled  the 
rents  in  their  rough  flanks,  and  lay  deep  be- 
tween the  towering  pinnacles  of  dark  rock. 

That  night,  as  on  more  than  one  night  after- 
ward, a  bull  elk  came  down  whistling  to  within 
two  or  three  hundred  yards  of  the  tents,  and  tried 
to  join  the  horse  herd.  The  moon  had  set,  so  I 
could  not  go  after  it.  Elk  are  very  restless  and  ac- 
tive throughout  the  night  in  the  rutting  season ; 
but  where  undisturbed  they  feed  freely  in  the  day- 
time, resting  for  two  or  three  hours  about  noon. 

Next  day,  which  was  rainy,  we  spent  in  get- 
ting in  the  antlers  and  meat  of  the  two  dead  elk, 
and  I  shot  off  the  heads  of  two  or  three  blue 
grouse  on  the  way  home.  The  following  day 
I  killed  another  bull  elk,  following  him  by  the 
strong,  not  unpleasing,  smell,  and  hitting  him 
twice  as  he  ran,  at  about  eighty  yards.  So  far 
I  had  had  good  luck,  killing  everything  I  had 
shot  at;  but  now  the  luck  changed,  through  no 
fault  of  mine,  as  far  as  I  could  see,  and  Fer- 
guson had  his  innings.  The  day  after  I  killed 
this  bull  he  shot  two  fine  mountain  rams,  and 
during  the  remainder  of  our  hunt  he  killed  five 
elk  —  one  cow,  for  meat,  and  four  good  bulls. 
The  two  rams  were  with  three  others,  all  old 
and  with  fine  horns;  Ferguson  peeped  over  a 
lofty  precipice  and  saw  them  coming  up  it  only 


7i8 


AN  ELK-HUNT  AT  TWO-OCEAN  PASS. 


fifty  yards  below  him.  His  two  first  and  finest 
bulls  were  obtained  by  hard  running  and  good 
shooting;  the  herds  were  on  the  move  at  the 
time,  and  only  his  speed  of  foot  and  soundness 
of  wind  enabled  him  to  get  near  enough  for  a 
shot.  One  herd  started  before  he  got  close, 
and  he  killed  the  master  bull  by  a  shot  right 
through  the  heart,  as  it  trotted  past,  a  hun- 
dred and  fifty  yards  distant. 

As  for  me,  during  the  next  ten  days  I  killed 
nothing  save  one  cow  for  meat,  and  this  though 
I  hunted  hard  every  day  from  morning  till  night, 
no  matter  what  the  weather.  It  was  stormy, 
with  hail  and  snow  almost  every  day;  and  after 
working  hard  from  dawn  until  nightfall,  labo- 
riously climbing  the  slippery  mountain-sides, 
walking  through  the  wet  woods,  and  struggling 
across  the  bare  plateaus  and  cliff"-shoulders, 
while  the  violent  blasts  of  wind  drove  the  frozen 
rain  in  our  faces,  we  would  come  in  after  dusk 
wet  through  and  chilled  to  the  marrow.  Even 
when  it  rained  in  the  valleys  it  snowed  on  the 
mountain-tops,  and  there  was  no  use  trying  to 
keep  our  feet  dry.  I  got  three  shots  at  bull  elk, 
two  being  very  hurried  snap-shots  at  animals 
running  in  thick  timber,  the  other  a  running- 
shot  in  the  open,  at  over  two  hundred  yards;  ' 
and  I  missed  all  three.  On  most  days  I  saw  no 
bull  worth  shooting;  the  two  or  three  I  did  see 
or  hear  we  failed  to  stalk,  the  fight,  shifty  wind 
baffling  us,  or  else  an  outlying  cow  which  we 
had  not  seen  giving  the  alarm.  There  were 
many  blue,  and  a  few  ruffed,  grouse  in  the 
woods,  and  I  occasionally  shot  off  the  heads 
of  a  couple  on  my  way  homeward  in  the  even- 
ing. In  racing  after  one  elk,  I  leaped  across  a 
gully  and  so  bruised  and  twisted  my  heel  on 
a  rock  that,  for  the  remainder  of  my  stay  in  the 
mountains,  I  had  to  walk  on  the  fore  part  of  that 
foot.  This  did  not  interfere  much  with  my  walk- 
ing, however,  except  in  going  down-hill. 

Our  ill  success  was  in  part  due  to  sheer  bad 
luck;  but  the  chief  element  therein  was  the 
presence  of  a  great  hunting-party  of  Shoshone 
Indians.  Split  into  bands  of  eight  or  ten  each, 
they  scoured  the  whole  country  on  their  tough, 
sure-footed  ponies.  They  always  hunted  on 
horseback,  and  followed  the  elk  at  full  speed 
wherever  they  went.  Their  method  of  hunting 
was  to  organize  great  drives,  the  riders  strung  in 
lines  far  apart ;  they  signaled  to  one  another  by 
means  of  willow  whistles,  with  which  they  also 
imitated  the  calling  of  the  bull  elk,  thus  tolling 
the  animals  to  them,  or  making  them  betray 
their  whereabouts.  As  they  slew  whatever  they 
could,  but  by  preference  cows  and  calves,  and  as 
they  were  very  persevering,  but  also  very  excita- 
ble and  generally  poor  shots,  so  that  they  wasted 
much  powder,  they  not  only  wrought  havoc 
among  the  elk,  but  also  scared  the  survivors  out 
of  all  the  country  over  which  they  hunted. 


Day  in  and  day  out  we  plodded  on.  In  a 
hunting-trip  the  days  of  long  monotony  in  get- 
ting to  the  ground,  and  the  days  of  unrequited 
toil  after  it  has  been  reached,  always  far  out- 
number the  red-letter  days  of  success.  But  it 
is  just  these  times  of  failure  that  really  test  the 
hunter.  In  the  long  run,  common  sense  and 
dogged  perseverance  avail  him  more  than  any 
other  qualities.  The  man  who  does  not  give 
up,  but  hunts  steadily  and  resolutely  through 
the  spells  of  bad  luck  until  the  luck  turns,  is 
the  man  who  wins  success  in  the  end. 

After  a  week  at  Two-Ocean  Pass,^  we  gath- 
ered our  pack-animals  one  frosty  morning,  and 
again  set  off  across  the  mountains.  .A  two-days' 
jaunt  took  us  to  the  summit  of  Wolverine  Pass, 
near  Pihon  Peak,  beside  a  little  mountain  tarn; 
each  morning  we  found  its  surface  skimmed 
with  black  ice,  for  the  nights  were  cold.  After 
three  or  four  days,  we  shifted  camp  to  the  mouth 
of  Wolverine  Creek,  to  get  off  the  hunting- 
grounds  of  the  Indians.  We  had  used  up  our 
last  elk-meat  that  morning,  and  when  we  were 
within  a  couple  ofhours'journey  of  our  intended 
halting-place.  Woody  and  I  struck  off  on  foot  for 
a  hunt.  Just  before  sunset  we  came  on  three 
or  four  elk.  A  spike-bull  stood  for  a  moment 
behind  some  thick  evergreens  a  hundred  yards 
off;  guessing  at  his  shoulder,  I  fired,  and  he 
fell  dead  after  running  a  few  rods.  I  had  broken 
the  luck  after  ten  days  of  ill  success. 

Next  morning  Woody  and  I,  with  the  packer, 
rode  to  where  this  elk  lay.  We  loaded  the 
meat  on  a  pack-horse,  and  let  the  packer  take 
both  the  loaded  animal  and  our  own  saddle- 
horses  back  to  camp,  while  we  made  a  hunt 
on  foot.  We  went  up  the  steep,  forest-clad 
mountain-side,  and  before  we  had  walked  an 
hour  heard  two  elk  whistling  ahead  of  us.  The 
woods  were  open,  and  quite  free  from  under- 
growth, and  we  were  able  to  advance  noise- 
lessly ;  there  was  no  wind,  for  the  weather  was 
still,  clear,  and  cold.  Both  of  the  elk  were  evi- 
dently very  much  excited,  answering  each  other 
continually;  they  had  probably  been  master 
bulls,  but  had  become  so  exhausted  that  their 
rivals  had  driven  them  from  the  herds,  forcing 
them  to  remain  in  seclusion  until  they  regained 
their  lost  strength.  As  we  crept  stealthily  for- 
ward, the  calling  grew  louder  and  louder,  until 
we  could  hear  the  grunting  sounds  with  which 
the  challenge  of  the  nearest  ended.  He  was 
in  a  large  wallow,  which  was  also  a  lick.  When 
we  were  still  sixty  yards  off,  he  heard  us,  and 
rushed  out,  but  wheeled  and  stood  a  moment 
to  gaze,  puzzled  by  my  buckskin  suit.  I  fired 
into  his  throat,  breaking  his  neck,  and  down  he 
went  in  a  heap.  Rushing  in  and  turning,  I 
called  to  Woody,  "  He  's  a  twelve-pointer,  but 

1  Since  this  was  written  Two-Ocean  Pass  has  been 
included  in  the  National  Forest  Reserve. 


AN  ELK-HUNT  AT  TWO-OCEAN  PASS. 


719 


the  horns  are  small."  As  I  spoke  I  heard  the 
roar  of  the  challenge  of  the  other  bull  not  two 
hundred  yards  ahead,  as  if  in  defiant  answer 
to  my  shot. 

Running  quietly  forward,  I  speedily  caught 
a  glimpse  of  his  body.  He  was  behind  some 
fir-trees  about  seventy  yards  off,  and  I  could 
not  see  which  way  he  was  standing,  and  so 
fired  into  the  patch  of  flank  which  was  visible, 
aiming  high,  to  break  the  back.  My  aim  was 
true,  and  the  huge  beast  crashed  down-hill 
through  the  evergreens,  pulling  himself  on  his 
fore  legs  for  fifteen  or  twenty  rods,  his  hind 
quarters  trailing.  Racing  forward,  I  broke  his 
neck.  His  antlers  were  the  finest  I  ever  got. 
A  couple  of  whisky-jacks  appeared  at  the  first 
crack  of  the  rifle,  with  their  customary  astonish- 
ing familiarity  and  heedlessness  of  the  hunter ; 
they  followed  the  wounded  bull  as  he  dragged 
his  great  carcassdo-\vn  the  hill,  and  pounced  with 
ghoulish  bloodthirstiness  on  the  clots  of  blood 
that  were  sprinkled  over  the  green  herbage. 

These  two  bulls  lay  only  a  couple  of  hun- 
dred yards  apart,  on  a  broad  game-trail,  which 
was  as  well  beaten  as  a  good  bridle-path.  We 
began  to  skin  out  the  heads;  and  as  we  were 
finishing  we  heard  another  bull  challenging 
far  up  the  mountain.  He  came  nearer  and 
nearer,  and  as  soon  as  we  had  ended  our  work 
we  grasped  our  rifles  and  trotted  toward  him 
along  the  game-trail.  He  was  ver}^  noisy,  ut- 
tering his  loud,  singing  challenge  ever)-  minute 
or  two.  The  trail  was  so  broad  and  firm  that 
we  walked  in  perfect  silence.  After  going  only 
five  or  six  hundred  yards,  we  got  very  close 
indeed,  and  stole  forward  on  tiptoe,  listening 
to  the  roaring  music.  The  sound  came  from  a 
steep,  narrow  ravine  to  one  side  of  the  trail, 
and  I  walked  toward  it  with  my  rifle  at  the 
ready.  A  slight  puff  gave  the  elk  my  wind,  and 
he  dashed  out  of  the  ravine  like  a  deer;  but  he 
was  only  thirty  yards  off,  and  my  bullet  went 
into  his  shoulder  as  he  passed  behind  a  clump 
of  young  spruce.  I  plunged  into  the  ravine, 
scrambled  out  of  it,  and  raced  after  him.  In  a 
minute  I  saw  him  standing  with  drooping  head, 
and  two  more  shots  finished  him.  He  also  bore 
fine  antlers.  It  was  a  great  piece  of  luck  to  get 
three  such  fine  bulls  at  the  cost  of  half  a  day's 
light  work ;  but  we  had  fairly  earned  them, 
ha\'ing  worked  hard  for  ten  days,  through  rain, 
cold,  hunger,  and  fatigue,  to  no  purpose.  That 
evening  my  home-coming  to  camp,  with  three 
elk-tongues  and  a  brace  of  ruffed  grouse  hung 
at  my  belt,  was  most  happy. 

Next  day  it  snowed,  but  we  brought  a  pack- 
pony  to  where  the  three  great  bulls  lay,  and 
took  their  heads  to  camp  ;  the  flesh  was  far 
too  strong  to  be  worth  taking,  for  it  was  just 
at  the  height  of  the  rut. 


This  was  the  end  of  my  hunt,  and  a  day- 
later  Hofer  and  I,  with  two  pack-ponies,  made 
a  rapid  push  for  the  Upper  Geyser  Basin.  We 
traveled  fast.  The  first  day  was  gray  and  over- 
cast, a  cold  wind  blowing  strong  in  our  faces. 
Toward  evening  we  came  on  a  bull  elk  in  a 
willow  thicket;  he  was  on  his  knees  in  a  hol- 
low, thrashing  and  beating  the  willows  with 
his  antlers.  At  dusk  we  halted  and  went  into 
camp  by  some  small  pools  on  the  summit  of 
the  pass  north  of  Red  Mountain.  The  elk  were 
calling  all  around  us.  We  pitched  our  cozy  tent, 
dragged  great  stumps  for  the  fire,  cut  ever- 
green boughs  for  our  beds,  watered  the  horses, 
tethered  them  to  improvised  picket-pins  in  a 
grassy  glade,  and  then  set  about  getting  sup- 
per ready.  The  wind  had  gone  down,  and 
snow-  was  falling  thickly  in  large,  soft  flakes ; 
we  were  evidently  at  the  beginning  of  a  heavy 
snow-storm.  All  night  we  slept  soundly  in  our 
snug  tent.  When  we  arose  at  dawn  there  was 
a  foot  and  a  half  of  snow  on  the  ground,  and 
the  flakes  were  falling  as  fast  as  ever.  There 
is  no  more  tedious  work  than  striking  camp  in 
bad  weather,  and  it  was  over  two  hours  from 
the  time  we  rose  to  the  time  we  started.  It  is 
sheer  misery  to  untangle  picket-lines  and  to 
pack  animals  when  the  ropes  are  frozen,  and 
by  the  time  we  had  loaded  the  two  shivering, 
^\-incing  pack-ponies,  and  had  bridled  and  sad- 
dled our  own  riding-animals,  our  hands  and 
feet  were  numb  and  stiff  wnth  cold,  though  we 
were  really  hampered  by  our  warm  clothing. 
My  horse  was  a  wild,  nervous  roan,  and  as  I 
swung  carelessly  into  the  saddle,  he  suddenly 
began  to  buck  before  I  got  my  right  leg  over, 
and  threw-  me  off.  My  thumb  w-as  put  out  of 
joint.  I  pulled  it  in  again,  and  speedily  caught 
my  horse  in  the  dead  timber.  Then  I  treated 
him  as  what  the  cow-boys  call  a  ''  mean  horse," 
and  mounted  him  carefully,  so  as  not  to  let  him 
either  buck  or  go  over  backward.  However. 
his  preliminary  success  had  inspirited  him,  and 
a  dozen  times  that  day  he  began  to  buck,  usu- 
ally choosing  a  down  grade,  where  the  snow 
was  deep  and  there  was  much  fallen  timber. 

All  day  long  we  pushed  steadily  through  the 
cold,  blinding  snow-storm.  Neither  squirrels 
nor  rabbits  were  abroad,  and  a  few  Clarke's 
crows,  w-hisky-jacks,  and  chickadees  were  the 
only  living  things  we  saw.  At  nightfall,  chilled 
through,  we  reached  the  Upper  Geyser  Basin. 
Here  I  met  a  party  of  railroad  surveyors  and 
engineers  coming  in  from  their  summer's  field- 
work.  One  of  them  lent  me  a  saddle-horse  and 
a  pack-pony,  and  we  went  on  together,  break- 
ing our  way  through  the  snow-choked  roads 
to  the  Mammoth  Hot  Springs,  while  Hofer 
took  my  own  horses  back  to  Ferguson. 

Theodore  Roosevelt. 


ALICE   RIDEOUT,    SCULPTOR 


PEDIMENT     FOR     WOMEN  S     BUILDING. 


ARCHITECTURE    AT    THE    WORLD'S    COLUMBIAN 
EXPOSITION.— IV. 


HE  site  of  the  Transporta- 
tion Department  lies  next 
west  of  the  Mines  and  Min- 
ing Building,  and  in  neces- 
sary and  convenient  prox- 
imity to  the  railroads.  In 
this  case  the  specific  char- 
acter of  the  exhibit  must 
dictate  even  more  absolutely  the  practical  plan 
of  the  structure  which  is  to  accommodate  it. 
A  very  large  and  characteristic  part  of  this  ex- 
hibit must  be  locomotive  engines,  and  other 
specimens  of  railroad  roUing-stock.  In  laying 
out  a  system  of  installation  for  these,  it  was 
found  more  convenient  to  arrange  the  rails  at 
right  angles  to  the  length  of  the  building,  and 
to  space  them  i6  feet  on  centers,  in  order  to 
allow  sufficient  room  for  circulation  between 
them.  Two  pairs  of  rails,  so  spaced,  to  each 
bay  gave  a  width  of  32  feet,  which  thus  be- 
came the  constant  module  of  dimension  and 
the  common  divisor  of  the  plan;  indeed,  this 
factor  proved  the  basis  of  the  whole  architec- 
tural scheme.  If  it  had  been  a  few  feet  more 
or  less,  we  should  have  had  a  different  building. 
In  fact,  as  is  apparent  in  the  analyses  of  all 
these  designs,  the  unit  of  dimension  must  exer- 
cise an  influence  over  architectural  composi- 
tions analogous  to  that  of  the  various  terms  of 
tempo,  from  largo  or  adagio  to  allegro,  in  their 
relation  to  music.  The  area  at  the  disposal 
of  the  architects,  Messrs.  Adler  &  Sullivan  of 
Chicago,  permitted  this  divisor  to  enter  thirty 
times  into  the  length  and  eight  times  into  the 
width  of  their  building,  which  thus  became  960 
feet  long  by  256  feet  wide,with  a  triangular  area 
lying  westward  between  the  building  and  the 
park  boundaries,  whereon  could  be  located  all 
such  annex  buildings  as  might  be  required  to  ac- 
commodate the  rougher  rolling-stock,  and  such 
other  exhibits  as  could  not  find  place  in  the  main 
building. 

In  studying  the  roofing  and  lighting  of  this 
space,  it  was  found  convenient  to  set  aside  three 
of  these  modules  or  divisors  for  the  width  of  a 


lofty  longitudinal  central  nave,  which  should 
be  open  to  its  whole  height  to  accommcTdate 
those  exhibits  requiring  considerable  vertical 
space  (such  as  aerial  devices  and  elevators) ;  and 
two  modules  and  a  half  on  each  side  for  two- 
storied  aisles,  where  road  vehicles,  and  all  other 
means  of  light  transportation  by  land  or  water, 
could  be  arranged  and  classified.  Each  aisle,  as 
well  as  the  nave,  is  furnished  with  double  pitched 
roofs  and  skylights,  and  the  nave  is  carried  high 
enough  to  permit  the  introduction  of  two  ranges 
of  clearstory  windows,  of  which  the  lower  are 
circular.  It  was  the  purpose  of  the  architects  to 
treat  this  double  clearstory  with  decorative  de- 
tail; but  considerations  of  economy  have  de- 
prived us  of  much  of  this  interesting  interior 
effect.  Studies,  however,  have  been  made  for  the 
occupation  of  the  triforium  wall-space  beneath 
these  windows  by  a  broad  painted  frieze,  ex- 
tending quite  around  the  nave,  and  setting  forth 
poetically  the  history  of  transportation  from 
archaic  to  modem  times.  For  reasons  which  will 
presently  appear,  it  was  consistent  with  their 
scheme  to  finish  these  roofs  at  the  ends  with 
hips,  and  not  with  gables. 

In  considering,  in  outline,  how  these  great 
buildings  have  assumed  definite  architectural 
shape,  we  have  been  anxious  to  show  that  they 
have  grown  from  practical  conditions  by  logi- 
cal or  reasonable  processes,  and  are  not  the  re- 
sult of  mere  personal  idiosyncrasies,  imposing 
upon  the  work  favorite  formulas  of  design,  which 
have  no  essential  relations  to  these  conditions. 
Nevertheless,  these  buildings,  being,  in  their 
principles  of  growth,  problems  of  art  and  not 
of  mathematics  or  mere  engineering,  each  has 
been  capable  of  many  widely  differing  artistic 
solutions,  through  equally  rational  processes, 
from  that  which  it  has  actually  received,  just  as 
the  same  idea  would  necessarily  be  expressed 
by  half  a  dozen  masters  of  Hterature  in  half  a 
dozen  different  ways,  or  as  the  same  theme  would 
be  treated  by  several  musical  composers  in  sev- 
eral harmonic  ways,  according  to  the  personal 
equation  or  the  accident  of  mood  of  the  master 


If 

Vol.  XLIV.— 94. 


•^-i  ARCHITECTURE  AT  THE   WORLD'S   COLUMBIAN  EXPOSITION. 

forms,  and  his  applications  of  them  to  his  com- 
position, may  be  simply  correct,  because  free 
from  errors  of  architectural  grammar  or  rheto- 
ric; or  they  may  be  brilliant,  because  they  are 
also  original  without  caprice ;  surprising  without 
evidence  of  eftbrt ;  poetic,  because  of  his  inner 
light.  The  degrees  of  success  range  from  correct- 
ness to  brilliancy,  and  the  varieties  are  infinite. 

Now  the  work  of  Adler  &  Sulhvan  in  this 
Transportation  Building  is  widely  different  from 
that  which  they  would  have  produced  had  they 
been  placed  under  those  restrictions  which,  for 
the  reasons  stated,  were  voluntarily  and  prop- 
erly assumed  by  the  architects  of  the  Court. 
The  former  were  free  to  use  any  language  of 
form  fitted  to  express  the  purposes  of  their  build- 
ing, and  they  were  under  no  other  limitations 
than  those  furnished  by  minds  educated  and 
trained  in  art.  In  endeavoring  to  show,  there- 
fore, how  their  work  took  shape,  we  shall,  in  this 
as  in  other  cases, —  carefully  avoiding  the  atti- 
tude of  criticism,  which  would  be  premature 
and  improper, —  proceed  not  as  if  the  methods 
of  development  were  exact  and  positive  in  a 
scientific  sense,  and  recognizing  that  there  can- 
not be  any  single,  final,  and  only  possible  solu- 
tion to  a  problem  of  art.  No  true  artist  ever 
wrote  Q.  E.  D.  under  his  project. 

The  general  plan  and  method  of  accommo- 
dation being  accepted,  we  are  now  in  position 
to  see  how  they  will  affect  the  architectural  ex- 
pression of  the  interior.  We  imagine  the  archi- 
tects reasoning  as  follows : 

It  is  our  purpose  to  confer  upon  an  object 
of  utility  an  expression  of  fitness  and  beauty  — 
to  utter  truth,  not  only  with  correctness,  but 
with  the  grace  of  poetic  diction.  In  the  first 
place,  therefore,  let  us  inclose  the  structure 
which  we  have  developed  with  a  wall  having 
merely  functions  of  usefulness.  In  piercing  this 
wall  for  the  necessary  windows,  let  us  make  one 
large  opening  to  correspond  with  each  of  the 
32-foot  bays  established  by  our  module  of  di- 
mension ;  but  let  us  not  make  these  openings 
so  wide  as  to  narrow  the  piers  between  them 
and  thus  to  convert  what  we  intend  to  be  a  wall 
into  a  colonnade  or  arcade.  Let  us  preserve 
the  idea  of  a  wall-surface  by  keeping  our  piers 
wide,  and  by  finishing  our  openings  with  arches 
so  that  the  spandrel  surfaces  between  may  be 
added  to  the  area  of  repose.  But  in  making 
the  window-ojienings  high  enough  for  the  prac- 
tical purpose  of  lighting  the  interior,  we  have 
left  only  a  narrow  and  weak  wall-surface  over 
them.  In  order  to  remedy  this  defect,  and  to 
bring  our  wall  to  a  height  which  will  not  be 
low  when  compared  with  that  of  our  neigh- 
bors, we  venture  to  build  it  10  feet  higher  than 
is  constructionally  necessary,  so  that  it  shall 
reach  a  total  height  of  53  feet,  thus  forming  a 
screen  to  mask  the  aisle-roofs  behind.    Now, 


w  - 

\\>%-- 


hc^i^^-  \ 


JOHN  J.   BOVLE,   SCULPTOR.  DRAWN    BY   H.  D.   NICHOLS. 

FIGURE    OF    BRAKEMAN,    TRANSPORTATION     BUILDING. 

in  each  case.  The  architect  uses  his  conven- 
tional historic  forms  as  the  poet  uses  his  con- 
ventional historic  words;  both  forms  and  words 
have  come  down  to  us,  modified  and  enriched 
by  the  generations  of  mankind  through  which 
they  have  passed,  and  for  this  reason  there  is 
often  a  deeper  significance  in  them  than  is  pa- 
tent to  the  multitude.  Architectural  formulas, 
in  their  various  developments  through  centuries 
of  usage,  have  become  symbols  of  the  genius  of 
nations;  no  architect  can  adapt  them  intelli- 
gently and  successfully  to  his  work  unless  his 
mind  has  been  saturated  with  these  inner  mean- 
ings, and  unless  he  has  learned  to  respect  the 
language  which  he  uses.  The  harmonious  com- 
bination which  he  may  be  able  to  make  of  these 


h  ,     !fr#S*- 


Ml 

m 


ARCHITECTURE  AT  THE   WORLD'S   COLUMBIAN  EXPOSITIOX.i-i 

for  the  necessary  protection  and  shadow  to  the 
plain  surface  of  our  wall,  let  us  place  upon  it  a  % 

boldly  overhanging  coping.   To  give  dignity  = 

and  apparent  stability  to  the  closure  which  we  » 

are  considering,  we  then  find  it  necessary  to  \ 

make  our  wall  thick  and  massive,  and  these         -^ 
qualities  must  be  illustrated  in  the  treatment  of  | 

the  jambs  of  our  openings.    If  the  jambs  are  s 

cut  through  at  right  angles,  we  shall  make  an  ? 

inadequate  and  ineftective  use  of  this  quality  of 
thickness  or  massiveness  of  wall;  on  the  other 
hand,  we  shall  increase  the  apparent  depth  of 
wall,  and  draw  attention  to  it,  by  splaying  the 
jambs  with  a  series  of  right-angled  returns,  thus 
engendering  in  each  opening  a  nest  of  dimin- 
ishing arches,  and,  as  it  were,  easing  oft'  the 
wall-surface  at  these  points,  as  was  done  by  the 
Romanesque  and  Gothic  builders,    ^^'e  have 
already  arranged  that  our  long  front  shall  be 
thirty  bays  long,  and  our  end  fronts  eight  bays 
long.    But  one  of  these  bays  must  occur  in  the 
center  of  each  front  for  the  sake  of  the  en- 
trances;   this  will  leave  a  half-bay  at  the  cor- 
ners.   The  result  of  this  is  that  we  have  a  wider      %. 
pier  at  the  ends,  and  by  this  simple  device  give      % 
a  natural  pause  to  the  succession  of  arches  on      r 
each  front  at  the  comers,  without  resorting  for      2 
this  purpose  to  the  conventional  end-pavilions,      < 
for  which  our  plan  does  not  offer  sufficient      £ 
excuse.  h 

But  the  frontage  which  our  wall-surface  has  z 
thus  developed,  though  entirely  reasonable,  is  s 
low,  monotonous,  and  mechanical  in  its  effect.  j 
The  first  difficulty,  in  its  relation  to  the  archi-  r 
tectural  composition  as  a  whole,  we  may  read-  ^ 
ily  remedy  by  exaggerating  the  height  of  our  s 
central  nave,  so  that,  from  ordinary  points  of  s 
view,  it  shall  be  seen  to  disengage  itself  well  ?  | 
from  the  ridges  of  the  aisle-roofs  which  encom-  i 

pass  it,  and  thus  form  a  part  of  the  exterior  I 

architecture.    To  each  bay  of  the  upper  part  j- 

of  the  clearstory,  thus  elevated,  we  give  two  > 

arches,  corresponding  in  character  to  the  single  ? 

arch  in  the  facade,  though  properly  smaller  in  ? 

scale,  and,  by  the  same  reasoning,  we  find  it  I 

essential  to  raise  these  clearstory  walls  higher  s 

than  the  eaves  of  the  nave-roof,  and  to  crown  I 

them  with  a  second  overhanging  coping.  1 

We  have  thus  designed  a  series  of  wall-sur-  |  • 

faces  in  what  seems  to  us  a  perfectly  logical  o 

manner,  but,  as  yet,  with  no  projections  what-  i 

ever  to  break  their  monotony, —  no  pilasters,  s 

no  string-courses,  no  base,  no  moldings  of  any  - 

sort,  and  no  cornice,  in  the  usual  sense, —  only  ^ 

a  blank  flat  wall,  pierced  with  deep  arched  1 

openings,  and  protected  by  a  boldly  overhang-  § 

ing  coping,  square  and  uncompromising.  i 

Now  shall  we  make  a  concession  to  con-  § 

vention,  and  attempt  to  illustrate  structure  and  ► 

use  symbolically  by  applying  projecting  archi-  *  ^ 

tectural  features  to  our  flat  wall-surfaces  after 


ii^ 


i  li 


^2^  ARCHITECTURE   AT  THE   WORLD'S   COLUMBIAN  EXPOSITION. 


LOREDO   TAFT,    SCULPTO 


PORTION     OF     FRIEZE,     HORTICULTURAL     HALL. 


academical  fashion  and  according  to  Renais- 
sance motives,  thereby  saying  what  we  have 
to  say  in  diplomatic  language,  as  it  were,  using 
forms  which  have  obtained  dignity  and  signifi- 
cance because  of  their  association.with  the  his- 
tory of  civilization,  of  which,  indeed,  they  are 
a  part ;  or  rather  shall  we  make  this  flat  wall- 
surface  itself  the  basis  of  expression,  avoiding 
words  and  phrases  of  Latin  origin,  and,  as  was 
done  by  the  Saracens  in  the  Alhambra,  who 
worked,  as  we  are  now  working,  in  a  plastic 
substance,  which  invited  molding  beneath  the 
surface  rather  than  carving  above  the  surface 
—  shall  we  decorate  these  flat  surfaces  with 
repeating  superficial  patterns  ?  By  the  latter 
process  we  may,  where  we  require,  make  our 
planes  of  construction  beautiful  without  losing 


BIT    OF    ORNAMENT,    TRANSPORTATION    BUILDING. 


any  of  the  advantages  of  simplicity  and  repose, 
which  we  are  striving  to  secure  by  following 
rational  methods.  In  treatments  of  this  sort  the 
example  of  Oriental  nations  is  full  of  instruc- 
tion, and  we  know  the  rich  results  obtained  in 
this  manner,  not  only  by  the  Moors  of  Spain, 
but  by  Mohammedan  art  in  the  mosques  at 
Cairo,  and  by  Indian  art  in  the  tombs  of  Agra. 
We  shall  thus  get  architectural  effects  of  light 
and  shade,  not  by  delicate  playing  with  the  com- 
plicated shadows  and  half-lights  of  pilasters, 
porticos,  and  molded  entablatures,  as  in  clas- 
sic art,  nor  by  the  bolder  chiarosciiro  obtained 
by  the  buttresses,  panels,  and  corbel-tables  of 
medieval  art,  but  by  breaking  the  broadly  star- 
ing sunlight  on  our  smooth  wall-surfaces  with 
the  broad  black  shadows  of  our  coping,  with 
the  sharper  and  finer  shade-lines  obtained  by 
recessing  the  window-reveals  in  a  series  of  nar- 
row planes,  and  with  the  regular  spotted  effects 
resulting  from  our  spaces  of  superficial  ara- 
besque or  fretwork.  These  wall-surfaces  also  in- 
vite a  treatment  by  contrasts  of  color  in  masses 
or  diapers,  after  the  Oriental  manner,  thus  giv- 
ing opportunity  for  effects  of  festivity,  which, 
however,  need  not  derogate  from  the  massive- 
ness  and  breadth  which  seem  most  consistent 
with  the  fundamental  character  of  our  building. 

It  is  a  recognized  principle  of  composition 
that  a  mass  may  be  simplified,  or  even  impov- 
erished, for  the  sake  of  emphasizing  by  contrast 
a  certain  highly  decorated  point  of  interest. 
This  principle  seems  especially  applicable  to 
our  present  case,  because  the  purposes  of  our 
building  do  not  call  for  an  embellishment 
which  would  be  appropriate  in  the  zenana  of 
an  Indian  palace,  or  in  the  tomb  of  an  Oriental 
princess.  The  architectural  virtue  to  be  exer- 
cised in  our  case  is  self-denial  rather  than  gen- 
erosity. In  the  mass  of  our  facades,  therefore, 
we  should  use  our  facile  means  of  decoration 
with  great  prudence,  doing  no  more  than  may 
be  necessary  to  make  our  wall  respected  as  a 
work  of  art. 

The  west  or  rear  side  of  our  building  will  be 
completely  occupied  and  masked  by  annexes ; 
the  north  and  south  ends  are  so  situated  as 


ARCHITECTURE  AT  THE   JVORLD'S   COLUMBIAN  EXPOSITION,  ^ic^ 


to  make  the  necessary  entrances  at  these  points 
very  subordinate :  but  the  center  of  the  east 
front,  toward  the  Lagoon  and  opposite  the  west 
center  of  the  Liberal  Arts  Building,  must  be 
the  main  portal  of  our  design.  This  feature, 
therefore,  may  very  properly  constitute  that 
point  of  architectural  emphasis  of  which  we 
have  spoken,  and  to  which  the  rest  of  this  fa- 
cade must  be  little  more  than  a  preparation  or 
foil.  The  most  majestic  feature  in  the  best  art 
of  the  Mogul  emperors,  as  in  the  closure  of  the 
great  mosque  at  Delhi,  or  in  the  Taj-Mehal 
at  Agra,  is  the  porch.  It  is  a  flat,  square- 
topped,  projecting  wall-face,  pierced  with  a 
lofty  pointed  arch,  forming  the  opening  of 


doorway.  We  may  cover  the  entire  superficial 
area  of  this  pavilion  with  a  delicate  embroi- 
dery of  arabesques  and  bas-reliefs  —  its  fronts, 
its  returns,  its  recessed  archways,  the  wall- 
screen  which  closes  the  opening  at  the  back, 
the  face  and  solTit  of  its  coping,  its  impost,  and 
its  stylobate.  We  will  make  the  whole  fretted 
mass  splendid  with  gilding,  so  that  this  main 
entrance  shall  be  known  as  the  "  Golden  Door- 
way." The  pavilion  interrupts  and  discontin- 
ues every  horizontal  line  in  the  edifice,  so  that 
we  must  depend  upon  a  sparse  echo  of  this 
embroidery  on  our  long  wall-faces  to  bring  the 
composition  together  and  to  secure  its  unity  of 
effect.     We  will  therefore  content  ourselves 


VkA\ 


NDIE,   ARCHITECTS. 


DRAWN    BY  ALBERT  RANDOLPH   ROSS.       PUBLISHED  BY  PERMISSION  OF  ' 
GENERAL     VIEW     OF     HORTICULTURAL     HALL 


HE  NEW  YORK   PHOTOGRAV 


a  deep  square  niche,  and  profusely  decorated 
with  borders  and  spandrel  panels  of  arabesque, 
and  with  inscriptions  in  inlay  and  superficial 
sculpture.  It  has  no  cornice,  and  frequently 
is  finished  with  a  parapet  of  lacework.  In- 
structed by  a  study  of  these  Oriental  master- 
pieces, we  may  adjust  them  to  our  present  use 
with  but  few  modifications.  The  rigid,  square, 
projecting  mass,  with  its  great  arched  open- 
ing, the  profuse  superficial  decoration,  and  even 
the  light  characteristic  kiosks  or  pagodas  which 
accompanied  the  original,  may  all  be  repro- 
duced here ;  but  in  order  to  amalgamate  the 
whole  with  the  work  which  we  have  already 
developed,  it  must  finish  with  a  similar  bold 
overhanging  brow,  the  arch  must  be  low  and 
round,  that  it  may  occupy  a  proportionate 
space  in  the  face  of  our  pavilion,  and  its  open- 
ing must  diminish  inward  in  a  succession  of 
lessening  arches  in  the  Romanesque  manner 
(Romanesque  and  Saracenic  art  having  a  com- 
mon parentage  at  Byzantium),  until  the  open- 
ing is  reduced  to  dimensions  practicable  for  a 


with  its  use  on  the  piers  at  the  point  where  our 
arches  spring,  and  on  the  under  side  of  the 
coping.  Practically  the  rest  is  left  in  repose  to 
offset  the  splendor  of  the  center.  But  in  order 
to  give  a  degree  of  movement  to  the  hard 
square  outlines  of  the  pavilion,  and  to  secure 
somewhat  of  a  pyramidal  eft'ect,  we  support  it 
on  each  side  with  terraces  and  balconies  on 
a  level  with  the  impost  of  the  arch,  and  acces- 
sible by  outside  stairs,  and  on  each  terrace 
we  build  a  light  kiosk  against  the  pavilion  in 
the  manner  of  the  Mogul  architects.  By  this 
somewhat  playful  device  we  hope  to  secure 
for  our  building  an  aspect  of  festivity  more  ap- 
propriate to  the  place  and  occasion  than  would 
be  obtained  if  we  were  content  to  leave  its  lines 
all  severely  adjusted  to  rational  conditions  of 
design.  In  like  manner,  and  with  the  same  ob- 
ject of  conferring  points  of  interest  on  the  long 
plain  line  of  frontage,  we  may  venture  to  open 
four  small  exit  doors,  two  on  each  side  of  the 
central  portal,  with  decorated  architraves,  and 
flanked  by  pedestals  against  the  adjoining  piers 


concentrated  at  various  points  on  the  Trans- 


'j2(>  ARCHITECTURE  AT  THE   WORLD'S   COLUMBIAN  EXPOSITION. 

to  support  groups  of  typical  statuary.  The  end  in  the  history  of  the  world — the  new  birth  of 
entrances  may  be  constructed  with  low,  square-  the  mind,  the  revival  of  learning,  the  reforma- 
topped,  projecting  pavilions,  highly  enriched,  tion  in  religious,  poHtical,  and  social  life,  which 
and  flanked  by  terraces  and  staircases  as  in  the  made  modem  civilization  possible.  These  con- 
front. In  the  center  of  the  nave  provision  is  ventionahties,based  upon  ancient  example,  and 
made  for  a  competitive  exhibition  of  transpor-  highly  organized  by  the  discipline  of  the  schools, 
tation  by  elevators.  These  are  arranged  in  a  are  the  symbols  of  this  civiHzation.  Such  work 
group  around  a  cylindrical  core,  and  give  ac-  as  we  see  in  the  architectural  system  of  the 
cess,  by  bridges  across  the  nave,  to  the  second  building  which  we  have  just  been  studying  in 
floor  and  to  a  great  terrace  over  the  central  outline  may,  in  comparison,  be  considered  ro- 
portal,  and  connect  with  observatory  balconies  mantic  or  barbaric  (using  the  term  in  no  de- 
which  surround  a  central  lantern.  This  is  the  rogatory  sense,  but  as  defining  a  condition  of 
culminating  feature  of  the  design;  it  is  highly  design  outside  the  pale  of  classic  authority),  a 
decorated,  and  completes  the  exterior.  product  hardly  less  of  invention  than  of  con- 

We  have  already  stated  that  the  decoration    vention,  developing  from  within  outward,  and 

taking  forms  less  consciously  affected  by  his- 
torical prece- 
dent. This  as- 
sumption of 
freedom  in  the 
hands  of  uned- 
ucated men  be- 
comes license 
and  disorder ; 
in  the  hands  of 
men  of  train- 
ing, but  without 
principles,  it  be- 
comes insub- 
ordination, and 
results  in  clever 
work  of  mere 
swagger  and  au- 
dacity, a  mani- 
festation of  per- 
sonal idiosyn- 
crasy, more  or 
less  brilliant 
and  amusing 
perhaps,  but 
corrupting  and 
unfruitful.  With 
knowledge,  but 
without  genius 
or  imagination. 


V 


--^31 


CENTRAL     DOME     AND     PORCH     OF     HORTICULTURAL    HALL. 


portation  Building  is  composed  of  arabesques. 
These  are  mostly  foliations,  more  or  less  based 
upon  regularly  recurring  geometrical  systems, 
but  following  nature  in  varieties  of  form  and 
principles  of  growth.  At  certain  important 
points  these  arabesques  are  frames  to  figure- 
subjects  in  relief,  illustrating  in  allegorical  fash- 
ion the  objects  of  the  building.  Properly  to 
complement  what  we  have  here  supposed  the 
architects  themselves  might  say  regarding  the 
genesis  of  this  design,  it  seems  desirable  to  add 
a  few  words  of  general  statement  and  wider 
application. 

The  exact  and  scholarly  conventionalities  of 
the  Court  buildings  recall  the  most  brilliant  era 


it  becomes 

merely  archaeological :  but  under  favorable  cir- 
cumstances this  romanticism  may  rise  into  a 
region  of  purity,  sobriety,  and  elegance  hardly 
inferior  to  that  occupied  for  more  than  twenty 
centuries  (allowing  for  the  medieval  interrup- 
tion) by  clas.sic  art.  Into  this  region  of  diflicult 
access  the  accomplished  architects  of  the  Trans- 
portation Building  are  seeking  to  enter  with  a 
fine,  courageous  spirit  of  duty,  and  the  evi- 
dences of  their  work,  not  only  on  the  Exhibition 
grounds,  but  more  conspicuously  in  the  Audi- 
torium of  Chicago,  and  elsewhere,  are  sufficient 
to  indicate  that  somewhere  perhaps  in  this 
dangerous  field  there  may  be  a  regeneration 
for  the  art  of  our  time  and  country  —  not  a  re- 


ARCHITECTURE   AT  THE   WORLD'S   COLUMBIAN  EXPOSITION. 

vival  of  forms,  but  an 
establishing  of  prin- 
ciples, instructed  ra- 
ther than  controlled 
by  a  spirit  out  of  the 
inexhaustible  past. 

It  is  eminently  fit- 
ting that  in  this  ex- 
position of  national 
thought  in  architec- 
ture, our  characteris- 
tic spirit  of  eager  in- 
quiry, of  independent 
and    intelligent    ex- 
periment,       should 
have  the  fullest  illus- 
tration.   If  our  late 
studies  in  Byzantine 
Romanesque       and 
Saracenic     art    may 
seem  to  the  foreign 
critic  merely  empiri- 
cal, we  may  be  able 
to  show  that  in  some 
instances  they  have 
been      carried      far 
enough  to  exercise  a 
fructifying  influence 
in  the  development 
of     style     in     this 
country,  and  to   in- 
fuse new  blood  into 
an  art  which,  in  the 
hands  of  the  gradu- 
ates of  our   schools 
of  design,  may  be  in 
danger  of  becoming 
scholastic  or  exotic, 
and   of    developing 
forms    far    removed 
from    the   uses    and 
sympathies  of  mod- 
ern life.   In  fact,  it  is 
not  from  loyalty  to 
ancient  formulas  of 
beauty,  not  from  re- 
vivals    or      correct 
archaeological    repe- 
titions, that  the  true 

regeneration  of  modern  architecture  must  come, 
but  from  the  application  to  modern  necessities 
and  modern  structure  of  the  principles  which 
controlled  the  evolution  of  the  pure  historical 
styles. 

Messrs.  W.  L.  B.  Jenney  &  W.  B.  Mundie 
of  Chicago,  architects  of  the  Horticultural 
Building,  have  been  able  to  occupy  the  beautiful 
site  at  their  disposal  with  a  magnificent  frontage 
of  I  GOO  feet,  facing  the  Lagoon,  the  ornamental 
gardens  and  parterres  of.  the  floral  department 


727 


SLEEP     OF     THE     FLOWERS,    HORTICULTURAL     HALL. 


Stretching  broadly  between  this  long  facade  and 
the  waterside.  The  extreme  depth  of  their 
building-site  is  about  250  feet.  It  was  evident 
to  the  architects  that  a  building  for  the  culdva- 
tion  and  exposition  of  growing  plants  must  be 
based  upon  what  has  been  found  by  experience 
to  be  the  best  form  for  a  garden  greenhouse 
or  conservatory.  The  architecture  of  such  a 
structure  must  therefore  include,  as  a  funda- 
mental feature  of  design,  a  series  of  light  one- 
storied  galleries  with  glazed  roofs,  from  50  to 
70  feet  wide,  so  arranged  upon  the  site  as  to 


^2%  ARCHITECTURE  AT  THE   WORLD'S   COLUMBIAN  EXPOSITION. 


inclose  garden  courts,  which  would  have  all 
desirable  sunlight,  because  practical  conditions 
do  not  permit  these  surrounding  galleries  to  ex- 
ceed 2  2 1<^  feet  in  height.  As  this  height  is  only 
about  one  third  that  of  the  other  buildings,  and 
as  it  is  necessary  that  the  architectural  mass 
must  in  some  way  be  brought  into  proper  rela- 
tion to  them,  it  became  apparent  to  the  archi- 
tects that  from  the  point  of  view  of  composition 
there  should  be  pavilions  at  the  north  and  south 


possible  from  the  main  porch.  A  third  pavilion 
was  thus  introduced  in  the  center  of  the  build- 
ing. As  a  matter  of  convenience  as  well  as  of 
structure,  the  architects  divided  their  galleries 
into  bays  of  2414  feet,  which  dimension  they  as- 
sumed as  the  module  or  unit  of  their  plan.  Thir- 
ty-one of  these  modules  entered  into  the  length 
of  their  building  between  the  end  pavilions,  leav- 
ing for  each  of  these  pavihons  a  width  of  118 
feet.  By  experiment  they  found  that  the  largest 


SOPHIA  HAYOEN,  ARCHITECT. 


by  albert  randolph  ross.      published  by  permission  of  the  new  york  photogravure  company. 
women's   building. 


ends,  where  they  approach  nearest  to  their 
neighbors,  and  where  comparisons  must  be  in- 
stinctively forced  upon  the  beholder,  and  that 
these  pavilions  should  hardly  be  less  than  50 
feet  high.  Of  course  this  height  suggested  two 
stories,  in  which  could  be  accommodated  not 
only  collections  and  models  illustrative  of 
botany  and  horticulture,  but  spacious  and  at- 
tractive restaurants  overlooking  the  gardens. 
Upon  the  first  story  of  21 '4  feet,  therefore, 
there  is  constructed  in  these  pavilions  another 
still  higher.  Thus  we  have  an  outline  of  a  build- 
ing composed  of  two-storied  pavilions  at  each 
end  of  the  site,  connected  by  two  long,  low 
ranges  of  one-storied  glazed  galleries,  with  an 
open  court  between  them.  But  for  practical  as 
well  as  for  architectural  reasons  it  is  necessary 
to  break  this  interminable  stretch  of  low  gal- 
leries with  an  important  and  highly  decorated 
central  feature.  The  architects  had  to  accom- 
modate under  cover  not  growing  shrubs  only, 
but  full  tropical  tree- growths  with  grotto  effects 
and  fountains.  This  suggested  a  much  higher 
but  still  characteristic  feature  of  greenhouse 
architecture  —  a  glazed,  wide-spreading  dome, 
made  as  large  as  the  available  space  would  per- 
mit, but  not  so  high  as  to  overwhelm  the  one- 
storied  galleries.  This  dome  naturally  took  its 
place  in  the  center,  and,  as  it  was  to  constitute 
the  most  imposing  feature,  interior  as  well  as 
exterior,  it  had  to  be  entered  as  directly  as 


dome  which  architectural  considerations  would 
permit  must  not  exceed  180  feet  in  diameter. 
They  placed,  therefore,  a  glazed  domical  hall 
of  these  dimensions  in  the  center  of  a  two-sto- 
ried substructure  of  square  plan,  of  about  nine 
modules,  with  a  projecting  frontispiece  toward 
the  Lagoon  in  three  parts,  of  which  the  cen- 
tral is  the  portal,  the  others  being  crowned 
by  low  domes  occupying  the  corners  of  the 
square  and  buttressing  the  larger  central  dome. 

By  a  mutual  adjustment  of  the  parts  thus 
outhned  a  definite  architectural  scheme  was  ob- 
tained, composed  of  two  two-storied  end  pavil- 
ions, 1 18  feet  wide  and  250  feet  deep,  connected 
in  the  rear  by  a  continuous  one-storied  glazed 
gallery,  50  feet  wide  and  7  59^^  feet  long,  against 
the  center  of  which  was  placed  a  great  domi- 
cal pavilion,  about  220  feet  square,  faced  with 
a  highly  enriched  pylon.  A  second  and  more 
important  longitudinal  gallery,  with  glazed 
arched  roofs,  parallel  with  the  first  and  73  feet 
wide,  forming  the  curtain-walls  of  the  main  fa- 
cade, connected  the  center  with  the  end  pavil- 
ions, thus  inclosing  two  garden-courts,  90  feet 
wide  and  270  feet  long. 

As  for  the  exterior,  the  architects  are  com- 
mitted to  a  long,lowfa5ade,  of  which  thecurtain- 
walls  are  only  22^  feet  high,  crowned  with  a 
3-foot  balustrade.  The  expression  of  their  cen- 
tral dome,  therefore,  must  be  correspondingly 
low  in  proportion  to  its  height;  considerations 


ARCHITECTURE  AT  THE   WORLD'S   COLUMBIAN  EXPOSITION. 12c) 


of  architectural  conformity  must  be  forced  into 
harmony  with  considerations  of  practical  con- 
venience and  use.  The  vertical  section  of  this 
dome  is  accordingly  made  semicircular,  and 
the  center  from  which  the  semicircle  is  struck 
is  on  a  level  with  the  gallery  or  second  story 
surrounding  the  dome,  and  thus  only  about  24 
feet  from  the  floor,  giving  a  total  height  of  only 
114  feet  to  a  dome  180  feet  in  diameter.  So 
far  as  the  interior  is  concerned,  this  proportion 
is  admirable;  but  the  depressed  exterior  effect  of 
this  great  glazed  dome  is  partly  remedied  by 
a  drum  or  podium,  which  is  established  above 
the  flat  roof  of  the  square  substructure  form- 
ing the  base  of  the  dome,  and  which  is  high 
enough  to  be  seen  from  ordinary  points  of  view, 
and  also  by  a  highly  enriched  crown  or  lan- 
tern which  surmounts  the  dome  itself  The 
lower  glazed  domes,  which  crowd  against  its 
base  on  the  corners,  effectually  support  its  out- 
lines, and  assist  them  to  spring  from  the  facade 
with  grace  and  elegance,  and  without  too  sud- 
den transitions.  The  curved  sky-lines  are  also 
aided  by  the  segmental  form  of  the  glazed  roofs 
of  the  galleries  on  each  hand.  The  transpar- 
ent character  of  this  immense  ball  and  the  airy 
lightness  of  its  structure  remove  it  from  com- 
parison with  the  substantial  fabrics  of  the 
domes  that  elsewhere  in  the  fields  of  the  Ex- 
position rise  with  more  monumental  aspira- 
tion. It  has  a  quality  of  fleeting  and  iridescent 
beauty,  and  seems  to  be  blown  like  a  bubble. 

In  their  decorative  scheme  the  architects  pre- 
ferred to  follow  Venetian  Renaissance  models, 
and  they  applied  to  the  curtain-walls  of  their 
long  front  galleries  a  correct  Ionic  order  with 
pilasters,  dividing  the  frontage  into  bays  cor- 
responding to  those  of  the  interior,  each  being 
occupied  by  a  glazed  arched  window,  reducing 
the  wall-surfaces  to  the  smallest  areas  consis- 
tent with  classic  traditions,  as  in  the  orangeries 
of  Versailles.  This  order  is  continued  around 
the  end  pavilions ;  but  as  the  architects  were 
compelled  to  erect  upon  this  a  second  story  3 
feet  higher  than  that  upon  which  it  was  placed, 
to  enable  their  building  to  compare  properly 
with  its  neighbors  in  regard  to  height,  they 
treated  their  upper  order,  which  is  also  Ionic, 
with  an  exaggerated  frieze  6  feet  high,  giving 
an  area  for  decoration,  which  they  richly  filled 
with  Cupids,  garlands,  and  festoons,  abundantly 
testifying  to  the  joyous  and  gentle  character  of 
the  objects  to  which  the  building  is  dedicated. 
In  these  pavilions  they  were  wisely  led  by  the 
example  of  Sansovino  in  the  Library  of  St. 
Mark  on  the  Piazzetta,  Venice,  and  the  ar- 
rangement also  of  crowning  balustrades  and 
finials,  characteristic  of  this  elegant  monu- 
ment, evidently  had  a  strong  influence  on  the 
present  composition. 

The  portal  is  a  lofty  triumphal  arch  with  a  re- 
VoL.  XLIV.— 95. 


cessed  vestibule,  decorated  with  statuary,  and 
in  the  character  of  its  profuse  embellishments 
of  sculpture  recalling  the  work  of  modem  Paris; 
but  in  the  two  square  pavilions,  crowned  with 
their  subordinate  domes,  flanking  the  portal, 
the  Venetian  motives  are  again  taken  up.  The 
Ionic  order  again  appears  here,  but  is  on  a 
larger  scale  than  that  of  the  long  curtain- walls, 
and  its  entablaturehas  a  friezebroader  even  than 
that  of  the  corner  pavilions,  and  it  is  enriched 
with  the  exuberantbutelegantplayfulnesswhich 
the  Itahan  masters  knew  so  well  how  to  employ 
in  the  service  of  their  paganized  princes. 

Seen  from  whatever  point  of  view,  no  one 
can  doubt  the  purposes  of  this  building,  and 
though  its  architecture  has  been  gaily  attuned 
to  a  much  lighter  mood  than  would  be  proper 
to  its  more  serious  companions,  it  does  not  for- 
get the  dignity  and  grace  which  belong  to  it  as 
a  work  of  art. 

The  decorative  modeling  and  sculpture  of 
this  building  are  the  work  of  Mr.  Loredo  Taft 
of  Chicago. 

The  first  point  of  interest  connected  with  the 
Women's  Pavilion  resides  in  the  fact  that  it  is 
the  product  of  a  national  competition  of  de- 
signs among  women.  An  architectural  com- 
position, like  any  other  work  of  art,  is  always 
more  or  less  sensitive  to  the  personal  qualities 
of  the  designer.  Consequently,  in  examining 
the  works  of  the  successful  competitor  in  this 
case,  there  is  an  irresistible  impulse  to  look  for 
the  distinctive  characteristics  in  which  the  fem- 
inine instinct  may  have  betrayed  itself  Miss 
Sophia  G.  Hayden  of  Boston  is  a  graduate  of 
the  architectural  school  of  the  Massachusetts 
Institute  of  Technology  in  that  city,  and  the 
composition  by  which  she  wasfortunate  enough 
to  win  this  coveted  prize  has  all  the  marks  of  a 
first-class  school  problem,  intelH gently  studied 
according  to  academical  methods,  and  may 
fairly  stand  in  this  national  exposition  of  archi- 
tecture as  a  good  example  of  the  sort  of  train- 
ing given  in  our  best  professional  schools.  As 
such,  it  is  proper  that  it  should  take  its  place 
with  the  other  architectural  works  in  Jackson 
Park,  and  it  is  eminently  proper  that  the  expo- 
sition of  woman's  work  should  be  housed  in  a 
building  in  which  a  certain  delicacy  and  ele- 
gance of  general  treatment,  a  smaller  limit  of 
dimension,  a  finer  scale  of  detail,  and  a  certain 
quahty  of  sentiment,  which  might  be  designated, 
in  no  derogatory  sense,  as  graceful  timidity  or 
gentleness,  combined  however  with  evident 
technical  knowledge,  at  once  differentiate  it 
from  its  colossal  neighbors,  and  reveal  the  sex 
of  its  author. 

The  manner  in  which  the  plan  of  the  Women's 
Pavilion  has  been  conceived  and  laid  out  re- 
quires but  little  concession  of  criticism  in  favor 


110 ARCHITECTURE  AT  THE   WORLD'S   COLUMBIAN  EXPOSITION. 


of  inexperience.  In  this  structure  it  was  in- 
tended to  accommodate  a  general  exposition 
of  woman's  work,  whether  industrial,  artistic, 
educational,  or  social.  It  was  to  include  de- 
partments for  reform  work  and  charity  organ- 
izations, a  model  hospital  and  kindergarten,  a 
retrospective  exhibition,  one  or  more  assembly- 
rooms  of  various  sizes,  with  libraries,  parlors, 
committee-rooms,  and  offices.  These  various 
services  were  to  be  provided  for  within  an  area 
400  feet  long  northward  by  200  feet  wide,  lying 
next  north  of  the  Horticultural  Building,  and  in 
the  axis  of  the  Midway  Pleasance.  These  gen- 
eral dimensions,  and  the  comparatively  small 
scale  of  the  building,  suggested  10  feet  as  a 
module  of  proportion,  and  upon  this  basis  it 
was  found  convenient  to  develop  the  plan  and 
organize  the  elevations. 

The  differing  and  somewhat  undefined  uses 
to  which  the  building  was  to  be  devoted  seemed 
to  require  a  series  of  connected  rooms  of  various 
sizes,  all  subordinated  to  a  great  hall  or  salle 
des pas perdus  of  architectural  character.  Cer- 
tainly, enough  of  these  subordinate  apartments 
were  required  to  make  at  least  two  stories  ne- 
cessary. With  reference  to  lighting,  circulation, 
and  economy  of  space,  evidently  the  most  con- 
venient and  the  simplest  way  of  adjusting  the 
plan  was  to  place  the  great  hall  in  the  middle, 
to  free  it  from  columns,  to  build  it  high  enough 
to  receive  light  through  clearstory  windows, 
and  to  envelop  it  with  a  lower  two-storied  struc- 
ture forming  the  four  fa9ades  of  the  building. 
From  the  floor  of  this  hall  a  convenient  com- 
munication could  be  established  with  the  minor 
halls  and  offices  around  it,  so  that  the  whole  first 
story  could  be  utilized.  In  the  second  story  it 
was  apparent  that  the  necessary  intercommuni- 
cation could  be  effectively  provided  by  sur- 
rounding the  open  central  area  of  the  hall  by  a 
system  of  corridors,  which  should  also  serve  as 
galleries  overlooking  the  hall,  after  the  manner 
of  an  arcade  or  cloister  around  an  Italian  cor- 
tile.  In  order  to  obtain  adequate  area  for  them, 
this  enveloping  series  of  rooms  should  not  ex- 
ceed 80  feet  in  depth,  and  should  borrow  all  the 
light  possible  to  be  obtained  from  the  central 
hall,  or  their  illumination  by  daylight  would  be 
seriously  imperiled. 

The  exterior  expression  is  evolved  from  these 
conditions.  The  other  buildings  of  the  Expo- 
sition covering  much  more  extensive  areas  with- 
out any  great  superiority  of  mass  vertically,  their 
architects  have  generally  found  it  necessary  to 
emphasize  the  vertical  lines  as  offsets  to  the 
horizontal,  and  to  include  two  or  more  stories 
in  one  colossal  order,  thus  bringing  the  archi- 
tectural scheme  into  scale  with  the  vastness  of 
the  structure.  On  account  of  the  comparatively 
small  extent  and  scale  of  this  building,  it  did 
not  seem  to  require  any  such  emphasis  of  ver- 


tical lines,  and  therefore  it  was  proper  to  permit 
the  two  stories  to  be  frankly  expressed  in  its  ar- 
chitecture. The  architect  found  that  the  strong 
horizontal  lines  thus  created  in  the  fa9ades  could 
be  adjusted  harmoniously  by  making  the  first- 
story  order  2 1  feet,  and  the  second  23  feet  high, 
the  whole  resting  on  a  continuous  5-foot  stylo- 
bate  or  basement,  thus  giving  about  50  feet  as 
the  height  of  the  outer  walls.  In  establishing 
the  general  vertical  divisions  of  the  main  front, 
Miss  Hayden  naturally  followed  the  conven- 
tional system  of  a  central  frontispiece  with  a 
pavilion  at  each  end,  connected  by  recessed 
curtain-walls.  The  depth  of  the  suites  of  rooms 
on  the  north  and  south  fronts  conferred  on  the 
end  pavilions  a  width  of  80  feet,  or  eight  mod- 
ules. Over  the  low  roofs  of  the  enveloping 
suites  the  clearstory  and  roof  of  the  lofty  central 
hall  should  assert  themselves  as  essential  fea- 
tures of  the  exterior.  We  thus  have  a  frontage 
fairly  blocked  out. 

In  this  way  the  building  is  massed  after  the 
manner  of  the  villas  of  the  Italian  Renaissance, 
and  to  this  school  the  design  is  naturally  in- 
debted for  those  details  on  which  the  charac- 
ter of  the  design  as  a  work  of  art  must  largely 
depend.  From  this  point  the  architect  probably 
developed  the  work  somewhat  as  follows : 

The  first  story  of  the  curtain-walls  between 
the  central  and  end  pavilions  must  be  brought 
forward  nearly  to  the  face  of  the  pavilions  to 
form  an  exterior  portico  or  ambulatory,  its  roof 
serving  as  a  balcony  or  terrace  to  the  recessed 
second  story.  This  first  story  of  the  curtain- 
walls  she  treated  as  an  Italian  arcade  in  lo-foot 
bays  without  columns  or  pilasters,  surmounted 
by  a  balustrade,  while  upon  the  second  she  im- 
posed a  full  order  of  pilasters  rather  suggested 
by,  than  strictly  following,  Corinthian  prece- 
dents, with  windows  between,  all  adjusted  in 
scale  to  the  almost  domestic  proportions  of  the 
rooms  within.  The  central  entrance  should  take 
not  less  than  three  arches  similar  to  those  of 
the  arcade,  and  should  be  surmounted  by  a 
colonnade  of  the  order  adopted  for  the  second 
story,  inclosing  a  loggia  connected  with  the  bal- 
cony or  terrace  to  which  we  have  referred,  the 
whole  being  flanked  on  each  side  by  a  space 
of  solid  wall  decorated  with  coupled  pilasters 
on  each  story,  and  surmounted  by  a  pediment 
developed  from  the  main  cornice.  Practically 
the  same  treatment  may  be  repeated  on  the 
front  face  of  the  two  end  pavilions,  but  without 
the  pediment,  and  also  on  the  side  entrances, 
which,  however,  should  not  have  a  pediment, 
as  that  would  bring  them  into  competition  with 
the  main  entrance,  and  cannot  have  a  loggia, 
because  of  the  interior  conditions  of  plan. 
The  colonnade  must  therefore  be  replaced  by 
a  corresponding  range  of  pilasters.  But  these 
side  entrances  may  be  distinguished  by  a  low 


THE   SUNSET  THRUSH. 


731 


attic,  constituting,  for  this  part  of  the  building, 
a  third  story  of  small  rooms,  opening  on  each 
side  on  roof-gardens,  which  should  extend  over 
the  end  pavilions,  surrounded  by  an  open  screen 
formed  of  an  order  of  hght  Ionic  columns,  with 
caryatids  over  the  loggia  below,  all  after  the 
manner  not  unusual  in  the  terraced  gardens  of 
Italian  palaces.  The  central  hall  is  671^  feet 
wide  by  nearly  200  feet  long,  and  attains  an 
exterior  height  of  64  feet. 

Under  the  circumstances  explained,  the  de- 
sign is  rather  lyric  than  epic  in  character,  and  it 
takes  its  proper  place  on  the  Exposition  grounds 


with  a  certain  modest  grace  of  manner  not  in- 
appropriate to  its  uses  and  to  its  authorship. 

After  an  extremely  vigorous  and  hardly  con- 
tested competition  among  sculptors  of  the  gen- 
tler sex  throughout  the  Union,  the  sculpture  of 
the  main  pediment,  and  of  the  typical  groups 
surmounting  the  open  screen  around  the  roof- 
gardens,  was  awarded  to  Miss  Alice  Rideout, 
of  San  Francisco.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  the 
subjects  are  emblematic  of  woman's  great  work 
in  the  world,  and  that  criticism  will  be  glad  to 
recognize  in  these  compositions  all  the  noble  and 
poetic  qualities  of  art  which  they  aim  to  set  forth. 


Henry  Van  B7-iint. 


THE    SUNSET   THRUSH. 


IS  it  a  dream  ?    The  day  is  done  — 
The  long,  warm,  fragrant  summer  day ; 
Afar  beyond  the  hills  the  sun 
In  purple  splendor  sinks  away ; 

The  cows  stand  waiting  by  the  bars; 
The  firefly  lights  her  floating  spark, 
While  here  and  there  the  first  large  stars 
Look  out,  impatient  for  the  dark; 

A  group  of  children  saunter  slow 

Toward  home,  with  laugh  and  sportive 

word. 
One  pausing,  as  she  hears  the  low 

Clear  prelude  of  an  unseen  bird  — 
"  Sweet — S7veet — sweel — 
Sorrowful —  sorrowful —  sorroicful !  ' ' 

Ah,  hist :  that  sudden  music-gush 

Makes  all  the  barkening  woodland  still, — 
It  is  the  vesper  of  the  thrush, — 
And  all  the  child's  quick  pulses  thrill. 

Forgotten  in  her  heedless  hand 

The  half-filled  berry-basket  swings  ; 
What  cares  she  that  the  merry  band 
Pass  on  and  leave  her  there  ?    He  sings  ! 

Sings  as  a  seraph,  shut  from  heaven 
And  vainly  seeking  ingress  there. 
Might  pour  upon  the  listening  even 

His  love,  and  longing,  and  despair  — 
"  Sweet — sweet — sweet — 
Sorrowful —  sorrowful —  sorrowful !  " 


Deep  in  the  wood,  whose  giant  pines 
Tower  dark  against  the  western  sky. 
While  sunset's  last  faint  crimson  shines, 
He  trills  his  marvelous  ecstasy; 

With  soul  and  sense  entranced,  she  hears 
The  wondrous  pathos  of  his  strain. 
While  from  her  eyes  unconscious  tears 
Fall  softly,  born  of  tenderest  pain. 

What  cares  the  rapt  and  dreaming  child 
That  duskier  shadows  gather  round  ? 
She  only  feels  that  flood  of  wild 

Melodious,  melancholy  sound  — 
"  Sweet — sweet — sweet — 
Sorrowful —  sorroivful —  sorrowful !  " 

Down  from  immeasurable  heights 

The  clear  notes  drop  like  crystal  rain. 
The  echo  of  all  lost  delights, 
All     youth's     high     hopes,    all     hidden 
pain, 

All  love's  soft  music,  heard  no  more. 

But  dreamed  of  and  remembered  long  — 
Ah,  how  can  mortal  bird  outpour 
Such  human  heart-break  in  a  song  ? 

What  can  he  know  of  lonely  years, 
Of  idols  only  raised  to  fall. 
Of  broken  faith,  and  secret  tears  ? 

And  yet  his  strain  repeats  them  all  — 
"  Sweet — sweet — siveet — 
Sorrowful — sorrowful — sorrowful  /  " 


Ah,  still  amid  Maine's  darkling  pines. 
Lofty,  mysterious,  remote. 
While  sunset's  last  faint  crimson  shines, 
The  thrush's  resonant  echoes  float; 

And  she,  the  child  of  long  ago, 

Who  listened  till  the  west  grew  gray. 
Has  learned,  in  later  days,  to  know 
The  mystic  meaning  of  his  lay ; 

And  often  still,  in  waking  dreams 

Of  youth's  lost  summer-times,  she  hears 
Again  that  thrilling  song,  which  seems 

The  voice  of  dead  and  buried  years  — 
"  Sweet  —  sweet  —  sweet — 
Sorrowful —  sorrowful —  sorrowful !  " 


Elizabeth  Akers. 


THE    CHATELAINE    OF    LA  TRINITE.^ 

By  Henry  B.  Fuller, 

Author  of  "The  Chevalier  of  Pensieri-Vani." 


MERAN  :     FANCY    LIGHTS    ITS    FIRES. 


The  apparition  of  Saitoutetplus  was  vivid  but  brief:  apparently  he  had  posted 
to  Botzen  simply  to  show  what  he  could  do  when  he  tried,  and  what  he  would  do 
before  suffering  himself  to  be  thwarted ;  and  he  almost  immediately  posted  back 
again.  He  declined  to  be  included  in  the  invitation  which  met  them  at  Botzen 
from  the  Frau  Baroninn,  the  mother  of  Zeitgeist,  to  pass  a  week  in  the  family  an- 
cestral halls  in  the  Vintchgau,  up  above  Meran;  he  simply  emptied  upon  the 
passive  Governor  several  pocketfuls  of  rocks  and  documents,  and  returned 
straight  to  Predazzo,  to  the  great  relief  of  his  embarrassed  cofifrere. 

To  pass  from  the  Dolomites  to  the  valley  of  the  upper  Adige  was  a  change 
indeed;  and  the  Frau  Baroninn  received  her  guests  on  a  high-set  terrace  which 
jutted  out  boldly  from  the  rugged  front  of  the  Schloss,  and  which  overlooked 
a  wide  and  graceful  expanse  of  orchard,  vineyard,  and  forest  —  a  tract  luxuri- 
ant with  the  grape,  the  fig,  and  chestnut-  and  walnut-trees,  sprinkled  with 
numberless  castles,  villas,  churches,  and  villages,  and  inclosed  by  graceful  moun- 
tains of  porphyry,  different  indeed  from  those  gigantic  and  extravagant  limestone 
formations  whose  jagged  and  soaring  bareness  had  for  a  fortnight  threatened 
Miss  West's  days  and  terrorized  her  nights. 

Aurelia  had  still  further  cause  for  gratification;  she  was  once  more  united  to 
1  Copyright,  1891,  by  Henry  B.  Fuller. 


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THE    CHATELAINE    OF  LA    TRINITE. 


ni 


her  baggage.  Her  trunks — bigger  and  more 
numerous  than  I  should  dare  to  state  —  had 
been  sent  on  from  Salzburg  by  some  method 
or  other  which  gave  her  no  concern,  and  al- 
ready she  had  come  to  feel  that  if  ever  in  her 
hfe  she  was  to  have  a  chance  to  dress,  these 
halls  of  pride  should  be  the  witness  of  her 
magnificence.  Already  she  began  to  sniff 
triumph  in  the  air,  and  she  found  it  easier  now 
to  forgive  Zeitgeist  for  having  peremptorily 
told  her  that  it  was  impossible  and  unneces- 
sary to  drag  those  portentous  chests  through 
the  Val  d'Ampezzo,  and  across  the  complica- 
tion of  chains  and  passes  which  make  up  the 
country  of  south  Tyrol ;  while  the  series  of 
protests  and  bickerings  which  had  accom- 
panied those  huge  constructions  across  Swit- 
zerland came  to  be  only  a  hazy  recollection. 
Aurelia  had  been  sheathed  in  woolen  walk- 
ing-skirts and  heavy  shoes  for  more  than  two 
months,  and  she  was  beginning  to  feel  an  irre- 
sistible desire  to  burst  into  bloom  —  a  process 
to  which  time,  place,  and  circumstance  now  all 
conduced.  She  conceded  that  she  was  beau- 
tiful, she  acknowledged  that  her  dresses  were 
handsome,  and  she  was  only  too  certain  that 
the  daughters  and  nieces  of  the  Baroness  were 
doomed  to  absolute  ecHpse.  One  of  her  gowns, 
in  particular — but  we  shall  reach  that  presently. 

The  entire  castle  and  its  belongings  seemed 
but  a  parterre  contrived  for  her  efflorescence. 
History  and  romance,  legend  and  adventure, 
trophies  and  tapestries,  armory  and  picture- 
galler}- ,  chapels  and  chambers,  turrets  and  stair- 
ways, horses  and  hounds,  stewards,  tutors,  chap- 
lains, lackeys,  and  foresters,  worshipful  tenants, 
and  reverencing  peasantry — what  a  background 
before  which  to  trail  the  latest  confections  of 
Paris !  All  this  for  her.  Miss  Aurelia  R.  West 
of  Rochester ;  and  yet  there  were  those  who 
postponed  Paradise  beyond  this  present  life ! 

Yes,  it  was  Paradise;  nothing  was  wanting 
but  the  serpent,  and  the  serpent  came  along 
promptly  enough. 

Aurelia,  who  was  always  rendered  restless 
and  uneasy  by  the  vicinity  of  vendible  mer- 
chandise, and  who  already  had  communicated 
a  touch  of  the  subtle  poison  of  shopping  to 
the  Chatelaine,  had  felt  herself  impelled,  on  the 
very  first  morning  after  their  arrival,  to  go  down 
to  Meran  to  make  a  few  purchases.  Not  for 
two  weeks  had  her  petticoats  grazed  a  coun- 
ter, and  her  gnawing  desire  to  chafter  and 
bargain  was  as  insufferable  as  the  torture  of 
the  opium-eater  when  his  favorite  drug  is  with- 
held. The  Chatelaine  was  also  beginning  to 
feel  the  need  of  meeting  requirements  hereto- 
fore hardly  dreamed  of,  and  so  the  Baroness 
sent  them  down  on  wheels  together. 

As  they  were  strolling  along  the  arcades  of 
Unter  den  Lauben  a  scrap  of  paper  caught  on 


the  bottom  of  Aurelia's  dress.  It  was  a  comer 
torn  from  the  "  Fremdenblatt,"  whose  publica- 
tion had  just  been  resumed  with  the  beginning 
of  the  early  autumn  season;  and  as  she  stooped 
to  see  if  picking  would  do  for  her  what  shaking 
would  not,  a  name  all  too  familiar  flashed  from 
the  type  to  her  eyes.  She  crumpled  the  bit  of 
paper  in  her  hand,  and  at  the  first  convenient 
opportunity  she  was  reading  an  account  of  a 
concert  which  Mile.  Eugenie  Pasdenom  had 
given  at  the  Kurhaus  on  the  previous  evening. 
And  if  she  had  turned  the  paper  over  she  would 
have  learned  not  only  that  Mile.  Pasdenom 
was  stopping  at  the  Habsburgerhof,  but  that 
Tempo-Rubato  and  Fin-de-Siecle  were  at  the 
Erzherzog  Johann. 

It  may  be  imagined  that  if  the  Duchess 
(with  a  voice  so  limited  by  nature  and  a  con- 
stituency so  hmited  by  place  and  season)  was 
attempting  concerts  in  the  Tyrol,  her  original 
plan  had  undergone  considerable  modifications. 
In  fact,  the  tour  projected  in  the  first  place 
had  turned  out  none  too  satisfactorily,  and  she 
had  brought  it  to  an  abrupt  termination  sev- 
eral weeks  before.  After  all,  she  was  abroad 
largely  for  recreation,  she  had  plenty  of  other 
things  to  occupy  herself  with,  and  three  or  four 
of  the  secondary  hghts  of  her  troupe  were  quite 
enough  for  the  carrying  out  of  her  latest  idea. 
Doubtless  this  new  departure  had  been  an  em- 
barrassment to  her  manager,  yet  there  were 
other  managers  that  she  had  not  merely  embar- 
rassed, but  ruined.  And  possibly  it  was  a  bit 
trying  to  the  humble  members  of  the  chorus 
and  orchestra,  too;  but  then  the  Duchess  never 
descended  to  details.  Upon  her  breaking  with 
her  impresario,  Tempo-Rubato,  whose  self- 
confidence  was  equal  to  any  undertaking,  had 
thrown  himself  into  the  breach.  He  was  will- 
ing to  engineer  any  new  enterprise  that  she 
might  care  to  embark  in.  He  would  be  her 
impresario  or  her  financial  sponsor ;  he  would 
do  the  baritone  parts,  or  the  leading  tenor  ones 
if  they  could  be  brought  down  a  third;  he 
would  take  tickets,  or  he  would  shift  the  scenery. 
On  the  spur  of  the  moment  he  proposed  a  little 
tour  on  the  other  side  of  the  Alps :  Verona,  Bres- 
cia, Bergamo,  and  so  on,  ending  with  Milan, 
where  the  people  would,  no  doubt,  be  over- 
joyed to  have  a  revival  of"  OrpheeauxEnfers" 
on  the  stage  of  La  Scala.  And  when  she  seemed 
likely  to  resent  this  obvious  sarcasm,  he  intrep- 
idly suggested  another  tour — one  beginning 
at  Trieste  and  running  along  the  coast  of  Dal- 
matia;  he  himself  would  charter  a  steamer. 
There  was  Capo  dTstria,  where  ten  thousand 
people  had  probably  been  waiting  all  their  hves 
to  form  an  acquaintance  with  Offenbach  and 
Le  Cocq;  there  was  Pola,  the  principal  station 
of  the  Austrian  fleet,  whose  officers  would  rally 
as  a  man ;  there  was  Fiume,  and  she  could  then 


734 


THE    CHATELAINE    OF  LA    TRINIT£. 


say  that  she  had  been  in  Hungary;  there  was 
Zara,  where  she  might  count  upon  the  influence 
of  a  good  friend  of  his,  a  personage  once  high 
in  the  poHtical  world  and  a  devoted  supporter 
of  the  opera,  but  now  residing  in  retirement 
and  cultivating  roses,  as  Diocletian  at  Spalato 
had  cultivated  cabbages;  there  was  Spalato 
itself,  and  Ragusa,  and  Cattaro,  where  they 
might  give  the  Turks  a  chance  to  form  an  opin- 
ion of  "Fatinitza,"  and  where  she  might  buy  a 
prayer-rug,  if  she  fancied. 

The  Duchess  ignored  the  amphitheaters,  and 
cathedrals,  and  Venetian  campaniles  of  the 
Dalmatic  coast,  but  she  shed  angry  tears  at  the 
prayer-rug  —  two  of  them,  one  from  each  eye. 
He  was  not  to  speak  to  her  in  that  way;  she 
would  not  listen  to  anything  of  the  kind.  He 
retorted  that  she  should  listen,  to  anything  of 
that  kind  or  of  any  other  kind.  Then  there 
had  been  neither  listening  nor  speaking  for 
three  days,  and  then  they  had  come  together 
through  the  Vorarlberg  into  the  Tyrol.  And 
then,  two  days  after  the  arrival  of  the  Gover- 
nor's party  at  Meran,  they  crossed  over  the 
Brenner  to  Italy. 

But  before  she  departed,  Aurelia  West  had 
a  glimpse  of  her.  One  afternoon  the  Frau 
Baroninn  ordered  out  her  coach, —  in  whose 
crested  panelings  and  so  on  Aurelia  took  great 
pride, —  and  bowled  her  young  visitors  down 
to  Meran  again.  As  they  rolled  along  the 
Wassermauer  they  observed  a  couple  strolling 
along  intimately  enough  under  the  poplar-trees 
close  to  the  stream.  The  costume  and  car- 
riage of  the  lady  would  have  distinguished  her 
anywhere,  and  the  gentleman,  who  walked 
along  with  his  head  inclining  over  toward  his 
companion,  and  who  trolled  a  small  pug-dog 
in  their  wake,  was  easy  enough  to  recognize. 
Aurelia  looked  straight  ahead  with  a  non- 
committal stare,  and  the  Chatelaine,  about 
whose  ears  the  leaves  of  the  tree  of  knowledge 
had  lately  been  rustling,  looked  sternly  in  the 
opposite  direction ;  but  the  Baroness  deliber- 
ately put  up  her  glasses  and  gave  the  pair  a 
leisurely  and  minute  survey.  Seldom  before 
had  she  seen  her  abstruse  and  self-absorbed 
son  exhibit  such  an  effect  of  unconsciously  ec- 
static complacency,  and  she  was  interested  in 
noting  the  person  who  could  bring  about  so 
striking  a  change.  Aurelia's  feeling,  however, 
was  far  from,  being  one  of  curiosity.  She  was 
impatient  with  Zeitgeist,  and  indignant  at  him. 
She  was  beginning  to  feel  that  she  had  more 
cause  to  complain  of  him  than  he  of  her;  and 
as  the  couple  passed  along  the  walk  in  a  state 
of  smiling  preoccupation,  Aurelia's  wits  began 
to  work  still  more  rigorously  and  insistently 
upon  a  problem  which  had  lately  come  to  oc- 
cupy her,  and  which  was  daily  taking  more  and 
more  of  her  attention. 


Here  was  Bertha,  the  Chatelaine  of  La 
Trinite,  a  beautiful  young  creature,  well  born, 
well  bred,  fair,  fresh,  wholesome,  with  position, 
family,  estate,  yet  who  was  there  that  appre- 
ciated her  ?  Not  Fin-de-Siecle,  whose  interest 
was  hardly  above  the  level  of  an  impertinent 
curiosity.  Not  Tempo -Rubato,  whose  treat- 
ment of  her  had  scarcely  been  more  than 
an  indulgent  condescension.  Not  Zeitgeist, 
surely,  who,  with  the  best  opportunities  of  all, 
was  finding  more  of  interest  at  this  very  mo- 
ment in  the  strange  woman  from  Paris.  What 
was  this  creature's  charm  ?  She  was  not  really 
beautiful;  she  was  not  actually  clever;  she 
certainly  could  lay  no  claim  to  family.  Was  it 
style,  was  it  audacity,  was  it  experience,  was 
it  the  genius  of  worldliness  ?  Could  this  be  the 
model  that  the  great  work  of  reconstruction 
designed  by  her,  Aurelia  West,  must  follow  — 
a  model  so  shocking,  yet  so  impelling?  But 
was  it  so  shocking,  after  all  ?  Who,  if  not  the 
Pasdenoms,  gave  the  tone  to  the  capital  which 
she  herself  had  voluntarily  selected  as  a  place 
of  residence  ?  Who  else  set  the  pace,  governed 
the  mode,  suggested  and  regulated  manners, 
costumes,  amusements  ?  But  dehberately  to 
pattern  the  reconstructed  Chatelaine  on  such 
lines  as  these  —  oh,  no;  there  must  be  a  dread- 
ful hitch  in  her  logic  somewhere ;  surely  there 
must  be  some  other  theory  upon  which  she 
could  proceed,  and  she  must  have  the  wit  to 
frame  it. 

Aurelia,  in  fact,  was  feeling  within  her  the 
impulse  to  produce  a  work  of  art.  Some  of 
the  ideas  on  this  subject  that  Fin-de-Siecle 
and  the  Governor  had  battledored  back 
and  forth  had  fallen  on  the  ground,  —  good 
ground, —  and  now,  watered  by  Aurelia's  as- 
siduous regard  for  the  Chatelaine,  promised 
to  spring  up  and  to  produce  an  abundant  har- 
vest. Aurelia  had  no  hope  of  achieving  a  work 
of  art  that  could  be  ranged  in  any  conven- 
tional or  recognized  class.  She  fully  realized 
that  the  grandest  productions  of  the  native 
American  genius  had  not  been  brought  about 
by  the  work  of  man  in  clay,  or  color,  or  cat- 
gut, or  calligraphy,  but  by  the  working  of  man 
on  man.  She  would  not  attempt  to  subdue 
marble  or  to  make  color  captive,  but  she  was 
anxious  to  show  what  might  result  from  the 
working  of  woman  on  woman. 

Well,  then, —  to  go  over  the  ground  again, 
carefully  and  in  a  different  direction, —  here 
was  the  Chatelaine,  whose  attractive  person- 
ality had  been  thoroughly  canvassed  already. 
Consider,  now,  her  status.  She  was  the  last 
of  a  long  race :  two  grandfathers,  four  great- 
grandfathers, eight  great- great-grandfathers, 
and  so  on  and  on,  each  of  the  series  possessed 
of  a  name  and  title,  a  niche  in  history,  and  a 
portrait  in  the  family  gallery.    She  held  her 


THE    CHATELAINE    OF  LA    TRINITY. 


735 


position  in  her  own  right ;  on  her  had  de- 
scended the  accumulated  fortunes  of  the  fam- 
ily; from  her  high-perched  castle  she  swayed 
it  over  a  valley  of  peasantry,  doting  and  com- 
plaisant, no  doubt,  to  a  degree.  What  posi- 
tion more  lofty,  more  gracious,  more  noble  ? 
Ah,  she  had  it!  The  whole  situation  was  bril- 
Hantly  clear,  absurdly  simple.  It  was  merely  a 
case  of  goddess  and  pedestal ;  only  the  goddess 
must  be  made  to  feel  that  she  ivas  a  goddess,  and 
to  see  that  her  proper  place  was  not  beside  the 
pedestal,  but  upon  it.  And  now  a  friendly  Intel- 
ligence had  come  to  show  the  divinity  how  to 
mount  to  her  place,  or,  if  need  be,  actually  to  lift 
her  to  it.  And  under  these  altered  conditions 
worship  would  follow  as  a  matter  of  course. 

Such,  in  bnef,  was  the  program  evolved  by 
the  transported  Aurelia  while  the  carriage  rolled 
rapidly  along  on  its  graveled  way,  and  the  Bar- 
oness and  the  Chatelaine  sat  silent  side  by 
side.  Not  merely  those  uncertain  young  men 
were  to  see  what  she  could  do,  but  the  Gover- 
nor himself  should  be  a  witness  to  her  skill;  he 
was  to  see  all  of  his  own  lofty  lucubrations 
about  arrangement  and  presentation  and  the 
rest  reduced  to  working  order.  And  as  for  her 
own  poor  self — that  was  a  paltry  candle  to 
be  snufted  forthwith,  since  all  the  light  was  to 
fall  on  quite  a  different  part  of  the  stage.  So 
overjoyed  was  she  to  think  that  Providence 
had  sent  the  Chatelaine  a  friend  so  dexterous, 
so  sympathetic,  so  self-sacrificing,  that  she 
broke  the  stern  silence  with  a  laugh,  a  most 
undeniable  one.  Both  her  companions  looked 
at  her  disapprovingly,  and  she  felt  that  in  the 
Chatelaine's  eyes  she  had  slipped  back  to  the 
precarious  ground  on  which  she  had  stood  at 
Lucerne,  while  the  aspect  of  the  Baroness  was 
such  as  to  make  it  seem  likely  that  the  rest  of 
her  visit  might  have  to  be  spent  in  reinstating 
herself  in  her  hostess's  good  graces. 

Aureha  fancied  that  she  had  already  made 
a  very  fair  estimate  of  the  castle,  but  she  re- 
ceived quite  a  new  impression  of  the  possibili- 
ties of  the  place  and  of  the  general  pleasantness 
of  hereditary  distinction  on  the  occasion  of  the 
celebration  of  Zeitgeist's  own  birthday,  for 
which  fete  the  banners  were,  indeed,  hung  on 
the  outward  walls,  and  the  cry  might  well  have 
been,  "They  come!"  The  magnates  of  the 
district  came  with  their  wives  and  daughters; 
the  sons  came  with  their  spurs  and  sabers;  the 
tenantry  came  tramping  up  the  valley  and  flock- 
ing down  from  the  mountains  with  music  and 
addresses  and  torches  and  hurrahs.  What 
a  dehghtful  situation,  thought  Aurelia,  this 
right  to  cheers  as  a  mere  matter  of  rank  and 
descent!  How  vastly  better  than  the  situation 
in  poor,  crude  America,  where  if  a  man  wanted 
hurrahs  he  must  hurrah  for  himself.  The  tur- 
moil of  preparation  for  this  observance  put  our 


enthusiastic  Aurelia  quite  beside  herself  What 
a  grand  opportunity  to  take  the  Chatelaine's 
measure,  to  hold  a  full-dress  rehearsal  of  the 
drama  which  was  to  be  enacted  at  La  Trinite, 
to  revise  the  draperies  of  the  statue  before  it 
came  to  rest  on  its  own  proper  base !  With 
what  emotion  did  Aureha  lift  these  draperies 
from  the  recesses  of  the  biggest  of  her  big 
trunks  !  They  appertained  to  the  one  conspic- 
uously magnificent  creation  of  the  entire  ward- 
robe, a  Parisian  inspiration,  the  emanation  of 
a  master  mind, —  a  talent  of  such  a  high  order 
that  to  many  of  its  patrons  only  a  thin  parti- 
tion divided  it  from  genius, —  a  mind  that,  when 
it  judged  itself,  broke  through  even  this.  It  was 
this  garment  that  Aurelia  herself  had  fondly 
hoped  to  wear;  but  with  a  look  of  high  resolve 
she  thrust  this  flattering  idea  aside,  and  when 
she  glanced  at  herself  in  the  mirror  she  was 
rewarded  by  seeing,  if  not  a  martyr,  at  least  a 
heroine.  Her  mind  was  big  with  one  idea,  her 
imagination  was  in  a  state  of  conflagration ;  and 
it  lighted  up  an  image  of  a  beautiful  creature 
(adequately  attired)  sailing  in  stately  fashion 
down  the  crimson  covering  of  a  marble  stair- 
case, while  a  loud  announcement  heralded  the 
coming  of  The  Most  Noble  and  High-born 
(supposing  that  to  be  the  proper  form),  the 
Lady  Berthe  Gloiredesalpes  (supposing  that  to 
be  the  exact  name),  the  Chatelaine  of  La  Tri- 
nite, and  the  This  of  That,  and  the  That  of 
The  Other  (which  sketchy  string  of  titles  stood 
subject,  of  course,  to  revision  in  light  of  later 
and  more  detailed  information).  After  which 
burst  of  poetic  frenzy  the  sibyl  confessed  her- 
self exhausted,  and  threw  herself  upon  her  bed. 

But  not  to  lie  there  long;  she  was  too  excited 
to  rest,  and  there  was  a  good  deal  to  do  before 
she  could  adjust  the  Chatelaine  to  her  new  at- 
tire. For  the  Chatelaine  had  none  too  high  a 
notion  of  her  own  merits,  and  she  was  inclined 
to  hang  back  a  little  bashfully  from  so  novel  an 
experience;  even  when  she  had  finally  been 
induced  to  try  on  things  experimentally,  it  was 
seen  that  a  good  many  changes  would  have 
to  be  made  before  the  ideal  was  reached.  There 
was  also  the  matter  of  gloves  and  shoes  ;  Aure- 
lia's  hands  and  feet  were  absurdly  small.  These 
and  kindred  matters  necessitated  a  good  deal 
of  snipping  and  basting  within  the  castle,  as 
well  as  repeated  excursions  down  to  Meran. 

But  the  end  crowns  the  work,  and  when  the 
Chatelaine  finally  came  to  stand  before  the  clus- 
tered wax-lights  that  surrounded  Aurelia's  long 
mirror,  and  took  a  final  view  of  herself  previous 
to  treading  the  crimson-covered  marbles  that 
had  filled  so  important  a  place  in  the  mind  of  her 
imaginative  friend,  the  artist  joyfully  expressed 
her  unqualified  satisfaction,  l^e  Chatelaine 
gazed  at  her  own  reflection  with  big,  startled 
eyes,  and  as  she  moved  about,  and  heard  the 


736 


THE    CHATELAINE    OF  LA    TRINITY. 


low  swish  and  rustle  of  the  silk  and  lace  and  tulle  dragging  behind  her,  a  fearful 
joy  possessed  her,  her  spirit  rose  mettlesomely,  new  vistas  of  surpassing  reach  and 
splendor  opened  before  her,  and  life,  she  began  to  feel,  included  a  great  many  things 
the  existence  of  which  she  had  not  heretofore  even  suspected.  Then  the  high  priestess 
administered  the  final  touch  —  with  a  powder-puff.  There  was  really  no  practical  reason 
for  this,  since  the  Chatelaine's  complexion  was  perfect;  perhaps  Aurelia  regarded  this 
rite  as  a  kind  of  secular  sacrament  by  which  the  Chatelaine  was  admitted  into  society. 

The  Governor  was  startled,  delighted,  electrified.  He  would  have  asked  nothing 
better  than  to  spend  the  whole  long  evening  in  rapt  contemplation  of  his  metamor- 
phosed godchild;  but  the  Baroness  appreciated  him  almost  as  much  as  he  appreciated 
the  Chatelaine.  She  knew  that  but  for  certain  disagreeable  events  in  the  first  years 
of  the  century  her  guest  might  have  been  a  reigning  prince, — not  Professor,  but  Elector, 
—  and  so  she  was  disposed  to  make  the  most  of  him.  The  Governor  always  professed 
to  be  bored  by  this  particular  line  of  historical  reminiscence,  and  perhaps  he  was.  He 
almost  always  told  the  truth ;  so  I  suppose  we  may  believe  him  —  or  not.  The  Baroness 
had  an  idea,  too  (quite  an  erroneous  one),  that  the  Governor  was  an  old  man,  and  she 
considered  that  she  was  properly  placing  and  honoring  him  when  she  led  him  fo  the 
card-room,  with  the  other  elders,  and  sat  down  opposite  him  for  a  game  of  cribbage. 
But  his  play  could  not  have  increased  the  Baroness's  admiration.  It  was  erratic,  ter- 
ribly nial  a  propos^  constantly  disturbed  by  little  fits  and  starts  as  the  crowd  of  young 
people  surged  by,  and  incessantly  punctured  by  sudden  sidelong  glances  through  doors 
and  windows.  The  Baroness  cut,  shuffled,  dealt,  and  pegged  with  her  pudgy  hands, 
counting  up  the  Governor's  knave  of  trumps  once  or  twice,  and  frequently  seeing 
fifteen-six  where  he  had  seen  only  fifteen-four.  She  presently  gave  up  her  place  to  her 
sister-in-law,  who  cut,  shufifled,  dealt,  and  pegged  with  her  pudgy  hands, 
catching  the  Governor's  knave  once  or  twice  more,  and  seeing  fifteen-six 
where  he  had  seen  only  fifteen-two.  Meanwhile,  whiffs  of  perfume  and 
melody  came  floating  in  from  without,  there  was  a  muffled  sound  of  shuf- 
fling feet  from  the  ball-room,  and  now  and  then  the  tones  of  fresh  young 
voices  came  in  through  the  windows  that  opened  on  the  terrace.  The 
Governor  blundered  on,  misdealing,  misplaying,  miscounting,  while 
the  sister-in-law  raised  her  surprised  eyebrows  higher  and  higher  un- 
til once  they  were  almost  lost  under  her  wig.  Then,  all  of  a  sudden, 
the  Governor  threw  down  his  hand,  face  up,  and  rose  to  his  feet.  His 
startled  opponent  looked  toward  the  wide  doorway,  too:  the  Chatelaine 
was  passing.  She  trailed  by  in  a  kind  of  slow  and  stately  splendor  on  the 
arm  of  a  tall  young  cavalry  officer.  Her  face  was  delicately  flushed, 
her  eyes  sparkled  with  a  vivacious  sense  of  triumph,  and  she  lowered  her 
high-poised  head  to  the  Governor  in  such  a  fashion  as  to  leave  the  old 
gentleman  weak  and  trembling  with  delight.  Behind  her,  in  company  with 
a  Serene  Insignificancy  from  Vienna,  walked  Aurelia;  she  was  looking  out 
sharply  on  the  Chatelaine's  behalf  for  entangling  spurs,  and  was  holding 
herself  in  readiness  to  administer  stimulant  in  case  the  conversation 
required  it,  being  seldom  at  a  loss  for  a  notion  and  never  for 
word.  She  did  not  look  especially  magnificent,  having  given 
the  Chatelaine  not  only  the  best  of  her  wardrobe,  but  the  best 
of  her  jewel-case  as  well;  yet  her  face  glowed  with  pleasure, 
and  it  was  a  face,  let  me  say,  to  which  nothing  was  more  be- 
coming than  an  idea. 

Aurelia's  satisfaction  was  complete  when  Zeitgeist  put  on 
a  grand  manner, —  he  wore  his  spectacles,  too, — and  took 
the  Chatelaine  in  to  supper.    She  saw  that  he  did  not  do  this 
simply  because  the  Chatelaine  was  ^^ 

a  special  and  particular  guest, 
nor  because  of  his  mere 
indebtedness  to  the  Gov-     ^^ 
ernor.    No  ;  he  did  it  i)e-     X   • 


THE    CHATELAINE    OF  LA    TRINITY. 


737 


cause  he  enjoyed  doing  it,  and  he  did  it  as  if 
the  doing  conferred  a  distinction  upon  him- 
self. Ah,  very  good;  the  young  man  was  not 
Wind,  after  all ;  he  recognized  the  sun  when 
he  saw  it  shining.  And  there  were  others  to 
whose  notice  she  should  like  to  bring  the  same 
heavenly  phenomenon. 

During  the  few  remaining  days  of  their  stay 
other  fetes  followed  at  other  places,  and  it 
gratified  Aurelia  to  see  the  Chatelaine's  altered 
attitude.  Bertha  apprehended  this  new  world 
keenly,  she  entered  into  it  with  a  satisfactory 
readiness  and  self-possession,  and  it  began  to 
look  as  if  she  was  soon  to  be  completely  at 
home  in  it  and  thoroughly  committed  to  it. 
In  nothing  was  this  shown  more  clearly  than  in 
the  manner  with  which  she  met  Zeitgeist's  sug- 
gestions for  excursions —  Meran  being  nothing 
if  not  excursional,  while  walks  and  points  of 
view  abound.  Every  other  height  for  miles  up 
and  down  the  valley,  for  instance,  held  out  its 
ruined  castle;  the  Chatelaine  walked  up  to  one 
or  two  of  them,  though  with  some  indifference: 
why  did  they  offer  her  castles  draped  with  ivy 
and  dedicated  to  the  dismal  owl,  when  others, 
just  as  near,  were  garlanded  with  flowers  and 
flooded  with  the  melody  of  the  waltz  ?  They 
talked  tentatively  to  her  of  the  Alps  of  the 
Oetzthal,  of  the  snow-peaks  and  glaciers  of 
the  Ortler;  but  she  had  lived,  thought,  eaten, 
breathedmountainsallher  life,  and  she  was  now 
beginning  to  feel  that  nothing  would  please  her 
more,  say,  than  to  put  on  a  long-trained  gown 
and  to  trail  it  through  Holland.  The  Baroness 
took  her  to  the  old  residence  of  the  counts  of 
Tyrol  in  Meran,  and  put  before  her  its  display 
of  frescos  and  painted  glass  and  armorial  bear- 
ings; but  the  Chatelaine  saved  her  interest  for 
the  Kurhaus,  the  band,  and  the  promenade. 
The  Governor  rambled  about  alone,  picking  up 
his  pebbles  and  his  flowers  for  himself.  The  old 
order  was  changing;  the  powder-puff  had  be- 
gun to  do  its  work. 

VIII. 
VERONA  :    THE    VERY    REALM    OF    LOVE. 

The  Chatelaine's  share  in  the  musical  do- 
ings at  the  Schloss  did  not  end  with  her  trip- 
ping to  other  people's  pipings,  for  she  did  a 
little  piping  of  her  own — if  one  may  allude  in 
such  a  way  to  the  piano,  the  only  instrument 
over  which  she  had  command.  For  the  spoils 
of  Salzburg  yielded  many  a  duet  and  trio,  nor 
was  Zeitgeist  without  such  a  knack  in  the  di- 
rection of  musical  notation  as  was  required  to 
fasten  a  few  of  his  own  ideas  on  paper.  The 
fount  of  melody  was  beginning  to  flow  within 
him,  and  he  had  his  piano  trundled  out  to 
a  certain  arbored  comer  of  the  terrace,  from 
which  retreat  the  mingled  tones  of  that  some- 
VoL.  XLIV.— 96. 


what  discredited  instrument  and  the  violon- 
cello rose  on  several  afternoons  to  the  ears  of 
the  Baroness  in  her  chamber  above.  Their 
work  was  principally  on  compositions  of  his 
own ;  most  of  them  having  been  turned  out, 
too,  since  their  emergence  from  the  Dolomites. 
There  were  few  trios  among  them,  the  Jiauto 
transversa  having  more  or  less  dropped  out 
of  the  combination ;  but  Aurelia  West  pleased 
herself  with  the  belief  that  many  of  them  were 
duets.  A  more  discriminating  critic  would 
have  detected  their  true  nature :  they  were 
simply  cello  solos,  as  elaborate  and  showy  as 
the  Baron's  technic  permitted,  with  accom- 
paniments, quite  simple  and  completely  sub- 
ordinate, for  the  piano.  But  Aurelia  was  no 
critic;  so  when  Zeitgeist's  little  finger  trembled 
with  a  pathetic  wabbling  on  the  A  string,  or 
his  middle  one  slid  with  a  desolating  moan 
the  full  length  of  the  D,  or  a  light  touch  from 
one  or  the  other  sent  canary-like  harmonics 
through  the  treUised  vines  about  them  (the 
poor  Chatelaine,  meanwhile,  pegging  away 
steadily  with  her  prosaic  chords),  their  listener 
almost  saw  the  heavens  opening;  she  even 
forgave  Zeitgeist  for  having  once  told  her,  as 
they  sat  in  front  of  the  Casino  at  Interlaken, 
that  the  selection  the  band  was  playing  was 
the  "Ah,  che  la  morte,"  that  this  air  was  from 
"  II  Trovatore,"  and  that  "  II  Trovatore  "  was 
an  Itahan  opera  by  Verdi.  And  after  he  had 
given  the  Chatelaine  a  little  piece  which  he 
had  composed  for  her,  and  dedicated  to  her, 
Aurelia  would  have  forgiven  him  even  worse. 

And  she  forgave  him  all  future  offenses,  too, 
when  he  said  that  he  had  half  an  idea  of 
accompanying  them  part  way  down  to  Italy. 
On  the  Governor's  suggesting  that  they  might 
leave  the  railway  at  Trent  and  piece  out  the 
journey  with  a  carriage-drive  along  the  shore 
of  the  Lake  of  Garda,  the  other  half  of  the 
idea  reached  him,  and  when  it  came  time  to 
set  out,  his  baggage  was  in  as  complete  readi- 
ness as  theirs.  Aurelia  attributed  all  this  to 
the  Chatelaine,  choosing  to  ignore  the  fact  that 
Zeitgeist  and  the  Governor  usually  got  along 
very  pleasantly  together,  and  the  other  fact  that 
the  curling  waves  of  Garda,  along  with  the 
piflared  vineyards  and  lemon-groves  of  Riva, 
made  a  sufficient  reason  of  themselves.  But 
even  the  finest  mind  cannot  hope  to  cover  a 
wide  field  completely. 

It  was  the  middle  of  the  second  afternoon 
when  the  carriage  turned  away  from  the  shores 
of  Garda  and  struck  out  over  the  highway  to 
Verona.  And  it  was  within  some  ten  miles 
of  Verona  that  their  vetturino  made  his  last 
halt  for  rest  and  water.  This  occurred  at  a 
little  town  that  spread  itself  out  long  and  thin 
in  its  attempt  to  inclose  a  very  large  piazza  — 
a  piazza  dull  and  grass-grown,  with  a  cafe  and 


738 


THE    CHATELAINE    OF  LA    TRINITE. 


an  inn  vis-a-vis.    And  while  suitable   refreshments  were   being 
ordered  on  one  side  of  this  inclosure,  our  friends  noticed  a  small 
crowd  collected  on  the  other, —  sixty  or  seventy  people,  about 
half  the  population  of  the  place, —  where  a  mountebank   show 
appeared  to  be  in  progress.   Two  or  three  men  in  loose  and  shabby 
trunks  were  trying  to  fasten  more  firmly  a  set  of  turning-bars, 
while  a  horn  and  a  clarinet  rasped  the  excited  nerves  of  the  by- 
standers.   Three  or  four  tiny  fellows,  their  fathers  in  miniature, 
stood  timidly  about,  subject  to  a  call  now  and  then  from  a  frowzy 
head  thrust  through  the  flaps  of  a  covered  wagon;  while  a  tall, 
stout  young  woman,  with  a  head  of  tousled  blonde  hair,  posed 
around  in  soiled  tights  and  short,  gauzy  petticoats,  and  made  an 
occasional  sally  at  the  audience  with  an  extended  tambourine,  a 
gesture  the  significance  of  which  few  of  them  seemed  to  compre- 
hend.   Within  twenty  feet  of  her  an  empty  carriage  stood  before 
the  door  of  the  inn ;  and  when  she  saw  a  full  one  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  square,  she  crossed  over  bareheaded  through  the  sun 
with  a  long,  heavy,  swinging  stride,  and  a  dozen  ragged  urchins 
at  her  heels.   She  appeared  to  be  a  simple,  stohd,  good-natured 
young  person,  to  whom  business  was  but  business,  and  to  whom  the 
ephemerality  of  gentry  on  wheels  was  a  well-ascertained  fact.    The 
young  ladies  viewed  her  with  a  considerate  interest,  and  did  not 
encourage  Zeitgeist  in  his  feint  of  having  impressed  her;  and  the  Gov- 
ernor gave  her  a  florin. 
They  had  already  noticed  the  empty  carriage  on  the  other  side  of  the 
square,  and  they  concluded  that  it  belonged  to  a  small  party  of  people  who, 
they  ascertained,  were  seated  beneath  a  striped  awning  on  a  balcony 
over  the  inn  door;  they  appeared  to  be  dividing  the  suffrages  of 
the  town  with  the  performers,  whose  slow  dullness  they  were  en- 
deavoring to  spur  on  with  an  ironical  applause.    The  show,  how- 
ever, went  on  its   own  limping  way, — long   preparation,   great 
promise,  little  performance, —  a  vast  parade  of  hoops  and  poles,  a 
loud  din  of  march  and  polka,  a  gradually  dawning  belief  on  the  part 
of  the  simple-minded  villagers  that  something  was  really  going  to 
happen,  yet  everything  flat,  riskless,  inconsequent.    All  at  once  an- 
other figure  emerged  from  the  doorway  of  the  inn, —  a  tall,  dark  man 
whose  body  carried  trunks  and  tights  like  the  rest,  with  the  full  allowance 


THE    CHATELAINE    OF  LA    TRINITY. 


129 


of  frayed  lace  and  tarnished  tinsel,  but  whose 
face  showed  an  'amused,  indulgent,  conde- 
scending smile  that  none  of  the  others  could 
have  achieved  in  ten  generations.  His  large, 
full  neck  rose  from  a  deep  chest  and  a  broad 
pair  of  shoulders,  and  his  arms,  bare  to  the 
pits,  showed  forth  tlif  muscles  of  the  accom- 
plished athlete.  He  advanced  with  a  strong, 
springy  step,  and  then  with  a  long  leap  sud- 
denly launched  himself  upon  the  bars,  on  which 
he  turned,  spun,  balanced,  swung,  with  all  the 
conscious  mastery  of  one  who  fully  knows  the 
ropes.  The  horn  and  the  clarinet,  after  their 
first  gasp  of  surprise,  fell  to  with  redoubled 
vigor,  the  assembled  urchins  shrieked  with  a 
shrill  delight,  and  a  group  of  sun-browned 
women,  with  shawls  over  their  heads,  looked 
on  with  a  fascinated  stare.  More  twists  and 
turns,  more  springings  and  swingings;  then 
some  vaulting ;  then  some  mighty  juggling  with 
dumb-bells.  A  lady  who  sat  up  under  the  awn- 
ing had  rested  a  magnificent  bunch  of  great 
flowers  on  the  railing  before  her;  she  tore  them 
eagerly  apart  and  showered  them  down  with 
both  hands.  Some  one  behind  her  clapped  his 
palms  together,  and  called  out,  "Bis!  bis!" 
in  a  high  tenor  voice.  The  athlete  stuck  one 
of  the  flowers  into  his  belt,  scooped  up  a  dozen 
more  of  them  and  gave  them  with  a  flourish  to 
the  girl  of  the  tambourine,  satirically  acknow- 
ledged the  applause  of  the  viflagers  and  of  the 
mountebanks  themselves,  ran  his  long  fingers 
through  his  damp  locks,  and  stalked  back  into 
the  inn. 

The  Governor  looked  at  Bertha  and  Aurelia, 
Bertha  looked  at  the  Governor  and  Aurelia, 
Aurelia  looked  at  the  Governor  and  Bertha, 
and  Zeitgeist  looked  at  all  three,  wondering. 
This  acrobat  was  the  man  whom  they  had  met 
on  the  Lucerne  steamer,  and  who  had  called 
himself  the  Marquis  of  Tempo-Rubato.  They 
had  scaled  him  down  from  a  nobleman  to  an 
inferior  opera-singer;  now,it  seemed,  they  must 
reduce  him  from  this  last  grade  to  that  of  a 
mere  strolling  tumbler.  In  what  role  would  he 
next  appeal;?  That  of  an  ashman,  a  ragpicker? 
Could  insolent  assurance  go  further  ?  The  Gov- 
ernor ordered  the  vettiirino  to  an  immediate 
advance  on  Verona.  Nor  need  he  spare  his 
horses;  the  greater  the  speed,  the  greater  the 
relief. 

Thus,  under  the  impulse  of  indignation,  the 
pleasant  town  of  Verona  came  presently  into 
view,  with  amelioration  in  the  towering  cam- 
panile of  the  Municipio,  the  long  front  of  the 
lofty  fortress,  and  the  soaring  cypresses  of  the 
Giusti  gardens.  Sunset  found  them  domiciled 
in  a  little  hotel  situated  on  a  back  street,  but 
fronting  immediately  on  the  river,  an  estab- 
lishment to  which  Zeitgeist  had  guided  them, 
and  in  whose  German-speaking  waiters  and 


porcelain  stoves  he  took  a  certain  national 
pride.  They  dined,  in  front  of  the  house,  on 
a  fish  which  an  engaging  waiter  had  lately 
brought  up  from  the  stream  expressly  for  their 
meal,  and  the  same  atmosphere  of  general  good 
nature  was  presently  lulhng  them  all  to  a  slum- 
berous forgetfulness  of  Latin  effrontery. 

No  town  can  have  a  stronger  claim  on  the 
regard  of  the  appreciative  traveler  than  Verona. 
Few  monuments  are  nobler  than  its  Roman 
arena  or  its  Lombardic  churches;  few  inclo- 
sures  more  picturesque  than  its  churchyard  of 
Maria  Antica,  with  the  Gothic  monuments  of 
the  Scaligers,  or  its  Piazza  delle  Erbe  sprinkled 
with  the  white  umbrellas  of  the  market-women ; 
few  streams  more  quaintly  pictorial  than  the 
rapid  Adige  bearing  up  its  flock  of  mills  on 
bobbing  scows;  few  gardens  more  grateful  than 
those  of  the  Villa  Giusti,  pierced  by  steep  av- 
enues that  lead  up  to  a  wide  view  of  Alps  and 
Apennines:  but  all  these  were  not  the  things 
with  which  the  active  mind  of  Aurelia  West  was 
most  concerned.  She  now  regarded  the  visit 
to  Verona  in  the  light  of  a  pilgrimage  (how- 
ever she  might  have  regarded  it  a  month  pre- 
viously), and  it  was  not  Verona  so  much  as  the 
Amanti  di  Verona  that  filled  her  thoughts.  It  is 
in  places  like  Verona,  full  of  features  of  the 
second  rank,  but  without  one  absolutely  of 
the  first,  that  a  large  party  may  fall  a  victim  to 
some  one  of  its  members  who  happens  to  have 
a  definite  idea.  Aureha  West  had  a  definite 
idea,  and  it  led  them  all,  without  let,  hindrance, 
or  delay,  to  the  mansion  of  the  Capulets. 

Medieval  magnificence,  like  medieval  man- 
ners, needs  to  be  judged  by  a  standard  more 
or  less  its  own,  a  truth  not  fully  reaHzed  by 
this  enthusiastic  cicerone.  She  had  seen  most 
of  the  great  JuHets  of  the  day, —  there  are  doz- 
ens of  them,  scores, —  and  she  was  familiar  with 
the  fervid  imaginings  that  provided  each  with 
her  own  "  scenic  investiture."  But  the  actual 
home  of  the  Capulets  is  pitched  in  a  key  much 
more  subdued,  and  if  Aurelia's  mind  had  not 
been  in  the  broadly  poetic  condition  that  can 
digest  all  crudities  and  incongruities,  she  might 
have  left  this  lordly  and  storied  house  with  a 
sense  of  disappointment — this  house  "  whence  " 
—  as  we  learn  from  the  tableted  front  — 
"  whence  fled  that  Juliet  for  whom  so  many 
tender  hearts  have  mourned,  so  many  poets 
sung."  The  house  is  doubly  authenticated. 
Besides  this  inscription  there  is  the  cappelletto, 
the  little  stone  hat,  which  is  set  over  the  low 
archway  leading  to  the  inner  court,  and  which 
has  come  to  be  almost  as  well  known  as  the 
papal  tiara.  It  was  under  this  archway  that 
the  first  member  of  the  family  came  to  greet 
them,  a  personage  whom  the  Governor,  will- 
ing to  amuse  and  to  be  amused,  identified  as 
the  bloody  Tybalt;  and  he,  in  the  midst  of  a 


740 


THE    CHATELAINE    OF  LA    TRINITY. 


lamentable  outcry,  was  driving  forth  a  little 
Montague  who  seemed  to  have  been  pulling  the 
hair  of  one  of  the  little  Capulets.  It  was  he, 
in  fact,  who  drew  their  attention  to  the  cappel- 
Mfo,  and  his  crooked  fingers  and  yearning  eye 
seemed  to  hint  that  such  a  service  was  entitled 
to  recognition.  The  rest  of  the  family  were  also 
found  at  home,  though  not  especially  prepared 
for  visitors ;  six  centuries  of  the  glare  of  publi- 
city have  probably  rendered  them  indifferent. 
Nor  was  the  stage  set  with  the  ornate  care  that 
we  have  come  to  expect  for  the  latter  part  of 
Act  I ;  the  courtyard  was  noisy  with  a  great  ado 
of  horses  and  donkeys,  and  carts  and  wagons 
and  water-drawing,  while  spread  around  over 
many  balconies  sat  many  of  the  company,  quite 
careless  of  their  cues.  Up  in  that  of  the  second 
story  was  old  Capulet,  smacking  noisily — he 
always  is  rather  noisy,  if  you  recollect  —  over  a 
plate  of  soup,  and  on  the  next  stage  above 
appeared  the  Nurse,  knitting  a  sock,  but  not 
allowing  that  to  interrupt  the  flow  of  gossip 
with  other  females  of  the  house.  A  girl  drawing 
water  at  the  well  Zeitgeist  claimed  to  identify 
as  the  heroine  herself,  though  the  Governor 
proposed  another  candidate  for  the  honor  — 
one  high  up  in  the  loftiest  balcony  of  all.  She 
glanced  back  and  forth  between  the  visitors 
and  something  that  she  held  in  her  hand,  an 
implement  that  the  Governor  declared  to  be 
a  curling-iron,  though  Zeitgeist  contemptu- 
ously termed  it  a  lemon-squeezer.  But  there 
seemed  to  be  no  tendency  to  rant  in  either 
young  woman,  and  so  the  point  remained  un- 
decided. The  matter  of  the  balcony  was  more 
perplexing  still ;  the  entire  courtyard  was  bal- 
conied only  too  thoroughly,  to  say  nothing  of 
the  front  of  the  house  itself  The  puzzled  eye 
of  the  Chatelaine  roamed  about  hither  and 
thither,  in  a  vain  attempt  to  find  some  place  to 
rest,  and  Aureha,  who  was  pleased  to  notice 
that  Bertha  was  taking  matters  with  an  appro- 
priate seriousness,  plaintively  inquired  if  the 
balcony  might  not  look  on  some  garden  or 
other  behind  the  house.  They  came  away  with 
that  point  also  left  open;  but  Zeitgeist  had  at- 
tempted no  heavy-handed  analysis  of  the  Ju- 
liet-myth, the  Governor's  recollection  of  Julia 
Placidia  had  kept  him  in  a  mood  tenderly  con- 
siderate, and  Aurelia  was  therefore  able  to  re- 
gard their  visit  as  a  reasonable  success. 

The  house  of  the  Capulets  disposed  of,  Au- 
relia's  next  achievement  was  the  tomb  of  Juliet. 
The  one  she  had  approached  with  respect,  but 
the  other  she  drew  nigh  to  with  reverence;  it 
was  all  the  difference,  in  fact,  between  narthex 
and  sanctuary.  The  road  to  this  place  of  sep- 
ulture is  long  and  devious,  and  leads  by  way 
of  barracks,  and  stone-yards,  and  stretches  of 
dusty  openness  to  a  remote  edge  of  the  town. 
yVurelia  and  the  Chatelaine  carried  between 


them  a  large  pasteboard  box,  the  contents  of 
which  seemed  precious  beyond  their  weight, 
and  demurely  followed  the  Governor,  who  him- 
self followed  the  seven-year-old  boy  that  was 
acting  as  their  guide.  They  had  thrown  them- 
selves on  his  good  offices  at  one  period  of  their 
pilgrimage  when  the  wa^had  seemed  involved 
in  grave  uncertainty,  and  the  Governor,  who 
was  fond  of  talking  with  httle  boys  who  had 
black  eyes  and  bare  legs,  left  the  two  young 
women  to  entertain  each  other  and  to  guard 
the  wreath.  The  Governor  had  asked  the  lad 
who  "  Giulietta  "  might  be,  and  he  had  simply 
replied  that  she  was  dead.  The  precocity  of 
this  answer,  and  the  assurance  which  it  con- 
veyed that  they  were  not  proceeding  on  false 
premises,  quite  charmed  the  old  gentleman, and 
he  rewarded  the  child  for  this  brief  obituary  on 
a  scale  that  might  almost  have  seemed  lavish 
for  a  complete  biography. 

Just  at  the  entrance  to  the  garden  they  en- 
countered two  gentlemen;  the  first  was  Fin-de- 
Siecle  and  the  second  was  Tempo-Rubato, 
whose  present  aspect  rather  delayed  recogni- 
tion. Both  were  perspiring  freely,  though  the 
day  was  cool,  and  Aurelia  conjectured,  despite 
their  leisurely  manner,  that  they  had  been  fol- 
lowing from  afar  and  had  taken  a  hurried  cut 
to  reach  the  gate  first.  Tempo-Rubato  in  his 
present  guise  suggested  neither  an  ashman  nor 
a  rag-picker.  He  wore  a  black  frock-coat,  a 
pair  of  pearl-gray  trousers,  a  high  hat,  and  a 
flower  in  his  buttonhole;  and  our  friends,  who 
had  never  before  seen  him  in  the  ordinary  dress 
of  every-day  life,  were  willing  enough  to  ac- 
knowledge that  under  a  combination  of  felici- 
tous circumstances  the  ideal  of  the  tailor's  fash- 
ion-plate might  readily  be  reached.  Clothed  he 
was,  indeed;  and  Aurelia  hoped  that  he  was 
in  his  right  mind,  too;  certainly  this  was  no 
place  to  balance  on  a  tight  rope  stretched  be- 
tween decency  and  indecency.  And  as  for  Fin- 
de-Siecle,let  him  but  repeat  in  this  sacred  place 
the  tactics  which  had  almost  turned  the  inter- 
ment of  Julia  Placidia  into  a  travesty,  and  it 
would  cost  him  the  acquaintance  cj/"  all  three. 
But  Aureha  did  not  regret  the  coming  of  this 
pair;  she  was  firm  in  the  faith,  and  what  bet- 
ter place  was  there  to  combat  heresy  than  at 
the  altar  itself?  They  had  probably  come  to 
scoff;  perhaps  they  might  remain  to  pray. 

The  two  young  men  lifted  their  hats  with  a 
careless  ease,  and  came  forward  with  all  confi- 
dence and  complacency.  Neither  of  them  had 
seriously  taken  Miss  West  as  a  person  of  any 
great  importance,  or  had  treated  the  Chate- 
laine with  a  much  greater  degree  of  deference  ' 
than  she  had  been  able  to  exact.  Tempo- 
Rubato,  indeed,  appeared  to  think  that  it  would 
be  a  very  simple  matter  to  resume  the  easy  at- 
titude of  the  Lucerne  steamer,  with  all  its  gen- 


THE   CHATELAINE    OF  LA    TRINITE. 


741 


eral  informality  of  a  midsummer  outing ;  but  he  now  found  a  line  drawn  that  he 
did  not  remember  to  have  noticed  before.  The  Chatelaine  received  them  both 
with  a  stately  reserve, —  she  had  come  to  think  less  highly  of  them  and  more  highly 
of  herself, —  and  Aurelia,  who  was  able  to  carry  an  air  in  chorus  when  she  might 
have  faltered  in  a  solo,  did  what  she  could  to  make  still  more  plain  to  the  young 
men  that  if  they  expected  to  please,  they  might  as  well  put  forth  their  best  endeavors 
—  that  their  best  would  be  none  too  good  for  a  young  woman  of  some  position  and 
consequence.  Tempo-Rubato  could  read  a  fairly  legible  hand,  even  when  the  t's 
were  not  crossed  nor  the  i's  dotted  ;  he  felt,  too,  that  the  bandbox  barred  all  levity. 
He  was  as  adaptable  as  an  eel,  and  he  would  take  the  pitch  of  any  key  that  was 
struck.  And  if  Fin-de-Siecle  was  too  stiff  in  his  own  conceit  to  bend,  why,  a  little 
dash  of  cold  water  would  nullify  almost  any  amount  of  starch. 

The  tomb  of  [uliet,  as  all  the  world  of  travel  knows,  rests   in  a  sort  of  little 

open  chapel  which  sets  snugly  against  the 
wall  of  an  old  monastic  building  standing 
in  a  humble  kitchen-garden.   In  the  spring 
'ou  find  the  place  brightened  up  by  multi- 
udinous  apple-blossoms  (to  say  nothing  of 
the  shining  lettuce  and  the  cheerful  pea); 
warm   sunlight,    too,   and   blue   sky. 
But  to-day  the  sky  was  thinly  veiled 
with  clouds,  the  first  yellow  leaves  of 
autumn  had  begun  to  flutter  down,  the 
peas  had  left  their  bare  beds  behind 
them,  only  a  few   lettuces   spindled 
tallishly  in  a  remote  comer,  and  a  mild 
young  man  with  watery  blue  eyes  was 
dejectedly  raking  up  the  paths. 

The   young   man  leaned  his  rake 
against  one  of  the  apple-trees,  and  led 
the  visitors  to  the  small  triple  arcade 
behind  which  rests  the  poor  old  bat- 
tered sarcophagus  whose  litter  of  call- 
ing-cards represents  the  elite   ot   all 
Philistia.     Aurelia  shuddered  as  she 
recalled  one  of  the  colony  who  had 
told  her  that  their  whole  party  of  ten 
had  left  their  cards   for  Juliet,   and 
blushed  to  recall  how  eager  she  her- 
self had  once  been  to  do  the  same. 
Their  guide  drew  attention  to  a  dilap- 
idated old  portrait  of  a  dilapidated  old 
ecclesiastic  hanging  close  by,  and  when  the  Gover- 
nor asked  him  if  it  was  a  Capulet,  he  replied  that  it 
represented  the  brother  of  Giulietta's  confessor.  This 
young  man  had  an  ingenuous  face  and  honest 
eyes,  and  appeared  to  believe  Avhat  he  was  say- 
ing ;  but  perhaps  his  researches  had  been  incom- 
plete, or  his  critical  sense  not  fully  developed,  or 
perhaps  he  had  been  misled  by  hearsay,  or  per- 
haps he  had  innocently  accepted  the  statement 
from  some  colleague  whose  pleasure  it  was  to  test 
how  far  the  traveler  might  beheve.     Fin-de-Siecle 
flicked  his  card  into   the  sarcophagus,  patted  the 
young  gardener  confidentially  on  the  back,  and  told 
him  that  he  had  a  precious  work  there  which  he  must 
guard  most  carefully ;  the  next  time  they  came  that  way 
they  might  bring  him  a  companion  piece  —  a  portrait  of  the 
stepmother  of  the  second  cousin  of  Giulietta's  nurse. 

Every  one  ignored  this  outrageous  sally.    Tempo-Rubato 
frowned,  and   then  stepped  forward  and  declaimed 


742 


ITALIAN  OLD  MASTERS. 


sonorously  some  little  verses  with  the  refrain : 

lo  t'amo  ora  e  sempre, 
Romeo,  11  mio  ben. 

Aurelia,  too,  attempted  to  put  into  Italian 
some  portion  of  the  celebrated  controversy 
over  the  lark  and  the  nightingale,  when  a  dis- 
tant sound  of  cock-crowing  came  to  amuse  the 
Parisian  scoffer;  whereupon  Tempo-Rubato, 
with  a  loud  promptness,  declared  his  admira- 
tion for  the  great  English  librettist,  who,  how- 
ever, preferred  to  accent  "  Romeo "  on  the 
first  syllable,  just  as  he  accented  "  Desde- 
mona  "  on  the  third.  Then  he  assisted  Aure- 
lia to  place  the  wreath  properly,  and  he  also 
found  a  suitable  situation  for  the  little  set  of 
elegiac  stanzas  that  the  Chatelaine  had  com- 
posed (she  had  written  them  in  French  on  a 
tiny  card  and  in  pale  violet  ink).  He  further- 
more embellished  this  card  with  his  boiiton- 
niere,  and  the  grateful  Aurelia  acknowledged 
to  herself  that  he  was  really  capable  of  civilized 
conduct  after  all. 

She  hesitated  to  make  the  same  concession 
in  regard  to  Fin-de-Siecle,  however  much,  in- 
deed, he  considered  the  civilized  as  his  own 
peculiar  forte.  Certainly,  if  his  etude  showed 
no  more  tact,  sympathy,  insight,  adaptability 
than  its  author  did,  it  was  likely  to  prove  but 
sorry  reading.  However,  he,  equally  with  Tem- 
po-Rubato, was  beginning  to  show  a  creditable 
disposition  to  revise  his  style  of  address  toward 


the  Chatelaine.  On  the  way  back  to  town  they 
both  walked  with  the  Lady  of  La  Trinite,  and 
Aureha,  left  behind  with  the  Governor  (a  neg- 
lect which  would  have  touched  her  keenly  a 
month  ago),  was  glad  to  notice  the  dawn  of  a 
deference  which  was  clearly  the  Chatelaine's 
due.  The  attitude  of  these  young  men  toward 
the  maidof  Verona  was  really  a  matter  of  secon- 
dary consequence ;  it  was  neither  to  make  nor  to 
mar  the  real  success  of  Aurelia's  idea,  since  the 
heroine  of  the  poet  toward  whom  her  thoughts 
were  most  definitely  turning  was  neither  Juliet, 
however  permeating,  nor  Desdemona,  however 
accented.  No ;  her  mind's  eye  was  fixing  a  firm 
gaze  on  the  gradious  Lady  of  Belmont,  and  in 
the  Chatelaine  her  idealizing  worshiper  was 
already  beginning  to  see  the  Portia  of  the  High 
Alps;  while  the  Belmont  toward  which  their 
steps  were  moving  was  not  a  palace  on  the 
Brenta,  but  a  chateau  among  the  snow-peaks 
of  the  Valais. 

The  Chatelaine  herself  was  still  without  an 
adequate  realization  of  the  role  for  which  she 
was  cast:  a  distinct  gain,  since  she  approxi- 
mated the  dignity  of  her  lofty  model  without 
reaching,  as  yet,  its  self-consciousness.  She 
pursued  the  accustomed  tenor  of  her  way,  with 
no  heed  of  drama  or  of  spectacle ;  while  Nerissa 
fidgeted  about  in  her  homely  little  room  at  the 
Albergo  della  Graticola,  and  burned  with  an 
eager  desire  to  shift  the  scenery  and  set  forth 
the  properties  of  La  Trinite. 


(To  be  continued.) 


Henry  B.  Fidler. 


ITALIAN    OLD    MASTERS. 
TINTORETTO.— 15 18-1594. 

(JACOPO    ROBUSTI.) 


Y  some  critics  Tintoretto 
is  considered  as  marking 
the  dechne  of  Venetian 
art,  in  the  sense  of  being 
the  first  example  of  this 
decline.  This  is  unjust  and 
untrue,  whether  as  indicat- 
ing a  falling  off  in  himself, 
or  the  decay  of  the  school.  Intellectually  he 
was  on  the  level  of  Titian ;  but  he  differed  from 
him  mentally  and  technically  —  the  second  as 
a  consequence  of  the  other,  probably,  but 
also  first  because  he  was  not  subjected  to  the 
very  early  discipline  with  which  Titian  began. 
That  he  began  to  paint  late  in  life,  as  the  old 
tradition  went,  is  not  proved  or  probable,  but 
the  internal  evidence  of  his  work  points  to  an 
utter  want  of  that  vigorous  early  training  which 
alone  can  give  to  execution  the  marvelous  sub- 


tlety we  find  in  Titian,  Michelangelo,  Raphael, 
and  so  many  more  of  the  great  Italian  paint- 
ers. The  same  evidence  points  to  a  refractory 
nature,  with  intense  individuality  and  an  imagi- 
nation impatient  of  control.  Tintoretto  may 
have  begun  eariy  to  work,  but  evidently  he 
never  submitted  to  severe  discipline ;  he  was 
bom  and  lived  in  an  atmosphere  of  art,  gath- 
ering the  sentiment  of  it  with  his  mental  de- 
velopment, and  he  painted  as  a  poet  writes 
when  his  life  is  passed  in  an  epoch  and  in  sur- 
roundings charged  with  poetry.  His  father, 
Battista  Robusti,  a  dyer,  put  him  to  study  with 
Titian,  and  the  story  goes  that  the  master  was 
so  envious  of  his  talent  that  he  refused  to  keep 
him  in  his  studio — a  palpable  fable,  for  so 
complete  a  master  of  all  that  painting  meant 
at  that  time  in  Venice  had  no  reason  to  envy 
the  best  work  that  Tintoretto  ever  did.    That 


ITALIAN  OLD  MASTERS. 


743 


he  was  sent  away  from  Titian's  studio  is  very 
probable,  and  it  is  equally  probable  that  the 
cause  was  in  the  refractoriness  to  discipline  of 
which  his  work  to  the  latest  shows  evidence. 
Envy  is  the  world's  most  ready  explanation 
of  such  a  dissension. 

The  methodical  and  comprehensive  system 
of  Titian,  providing  in  the  first  painting  for  the 
many  operations  to  follow, —  a  system  that  had 
the  prevision  and  preparation  of  a  master's 
game  of  chess  or  a  great  general's  campaign, — 
was  impossible  to  the  overcharged  tempera- 
ment of  Tintoretto,  in  whom  the  fury  of  in- 
vention could  brook  no  kind  of  dictation  as  to 
the  process  of  delivery.  He  could  never,  like 
Titian,  have  turned  his  canvas  to  the  wall,  and 
have  waited  a  month  to  see  it  progress  a  step  ; 
his  work  mastered  him,  not  he  his  work,  and 
in  this  is  the  chief  ground  of  the  difference 
between  his  art  and  that  of  Titian.  He  is  said 
to  have  written  on  the  wall  of  his  studio,  "  The 
design  of  Michelangelo,  and  the  color  of  Ti- 
tian "  ;  but  he  would  have  understood  his  own 
case  better  if  he  had  seen  that  it  was  not  ex- 
actly that  which  he  wanted,  but  "  the  inven- 
tion of  Tintoretto,  and  the  patience  and  the 
system  of  Titian,"  which,  if  he  could  have  com- 
bined them,  would  have  made  him  the  great- 
est painter  the  world  ever  saw. 

From  the  studio  of  Titian  he  went  to  that 
of  Andrea  Schiavone,  a  Dalmatian, "^  if  we  may 
judge  from  his  name,  and  clearly  not  one  of 
those  natures  due  to  the  temperament  of  the 
serene  race  of  the  islands  of  the  lagoons.  Schia- 
vone's  technical  characteristics  were  more  in 
sympathy  with  Tintoretto ;  and  though  we  have 
no  work  of  the  period  of  his  stay  with  that 
painter,  Ridolfi  speaks  of  a  portrait  painted  in 
a  lamplight  effect  which  was  much  admired 
in  Venice,  a  fact  which  points  to  the  character 
of  his  subsequent  painting.  He  had  a  morbid 
activity ;  he  would  work  for  nothing  but  the 
cost  of  his  materials  when  he  could  get  no  com- 
missions, a  habit  which  was  the  most  efficient 
obstacle  to  his  getting  any.  He  filled  the  schools 
and  churches  with  his  compositions,  and  the 
fecundity  of  his  genius  is  almost  incredible  to 
men  of  our  day  ;  but  most  of  the  work  of  this 
period  has  perished,  so  that  we  can  say  but 
little  of  its  quality.  A  "  Circumcision,"  how- 
ever, in  the  Church  of  the  Carmine  is  attrib- 
uted to  this  time.  The  drawing  is  stiff,  the 
color  powerful,  and,  as  is  almost  invariably  the 
case  in  his  work,  the  composition  inventive. 
A  Httle  later  he  painted  for  the  Sta.  Trinita 
five  scenes  from  Genesis,  two  of  which  are 
now  in  the  Academy,  "  The  Fall  "  and  "  The 
Death  of  Abel."  The  former  shows  the  influ- 
ence of  Titian,  and  the  conception  is  poeti- 
cal, but  the  Abel  is  hardly  characteristic  of 
Tintoretto. 2    (See  page  745.) 


The  impatience  of  his  genius  craved  great 
spaces;  he  longed  to  paint  all  Venice,  to  cover 
all  the  blank  walls  with  huge  compositions,  arid 
he  did  paint  the  fronts  of  several  houses  for  the 
bare  cost  of  the  materials.  He  painted  the 
"  Feast  of  Nebuchadnezzar"  on  the  arsenal,  and, 
on  the  wall  of  a  house  near  the  Ponte  S.  An- 
gelo,  a  battle  and  various  other  subjects,  some 
of  which  are  preserved  in  Zanetti's  "  Pitture  a 
Fresco,"  published  in  Venice  in  1760.  He  also 
decorated  the  Palazzo  Zeno,  and  among  other 
recorded  works,  in  1545,  painted  the  ceiling 
of  a  room  for  Pietro  Aretino.  His  first  very  im- 
portant order,  received  in  1546,  was  for  the 
decoration  of  the  choir  of  the  Church  of  S. 
Maria  dell'  Orto,  and  this,  as  might  be  ex- 
pected by  a  painter  who  had  been  begging  the 
privilege  of  painting  for  nothing  in  a  commu- 
nity where  the  chief  customers  for  his  work  were 
the  priests,  he  secured  by  offering  to  do  it  at  cost. 
Of  the  subjects  here,  the  "  Last  Judgment "  and 
the  "  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf"  are  among 
his  chief  works.  They  have  grown  black  and 
obscure,  and  show  the  defects  of  his  method,  but 
the  power  is  amazing.  The  common  criticism 
of  them  is  that  the  detail  is  extremely  defec- 
tive and  has  no  relation  to  the  expenditure  of 
thought  in  the  design  and  the  power  of  the 
whole ;  but  the  common  critic  does  not  take  into 
consideration  the  vital  facts  of  the  case.  Tin- 
toretto was  in  the  habit,  as  all  his  biographers 
say,  of  studying  the  place  for  which  his  pictures 
were  to  be  painted ;  and  certainly  no  place  could 
be  found  where  the  elaboration  of  detail  would 
have  been  such  supererogation  as  in  this  choir, 
where  it  is  difficult  with  any  light  to  see  what 
is  most  easily  to  be  seen.  The  enoiTnous  size 
of  the  pictures,  too,  their  height  being  fifty  feet, 
makes  it  imperative  for  the  observer  to  keep  at 
such  a  distance  as  would  render  fine  details  in- 
visible in  almost  any  light,  and  absolutely  so 
in  the  semi-obscurity  of  the  choir.  The  color 
is  not  what  it  was  in  the  day  of  their  painting; 
it  is  certainly  far  more  dusky,  and  the  proba- 
bility is  that  when  the  pictures  were  finished 
they  answered  perfectly  their  purpose  of  being 
visible  where  they  are.  The  artist  received  a 
gratuity  of  100  ducats  forhis  work,  and  an  order 
to  decorate  the  organ-case.  On  the  inside  of 
this  he  painted  the  "  Martyrdom  of  St.  Chris- 
topher "  and  the  "Angels  bringing  the  Cross  to 
St.  Peter."  These  are  now  in  the  chapel  of  the 
high  altar  of  the  church,  and  are  fine  in  color 
but  indifferent  in  composition;  but  the  subject 
on  the  outside  of  the  organ-case,  the  "  Presen- 
tation of  the  Virgin,"  is  fine  both  in  color  and  in 
composition.  These  paintings  were  the  means 
of  bringing  Tintoretto  into  much  repute,  and 

1  According  to  Boschini,  Schiavone  was  bom  in 
Sebenico,  Dalmatia. 

2  Ruskin  praises  it  highly  as  resembUng  gnsaille. 


744 


ITALIAN  OLD  MASTERS. 


the  Brotherhood  of  St.  Mark  obtained  for  their 
school  the  great  picture  of  the  "  Miracle  of 
St.  Mark,"  now  in  the  Academy,  where  it  is 
not  unworthily  held,  all  elements  considered, 
as  the  artist's  most  complete  work.  It  is  strongly 
dramatic,  powerful  in  color,  and  has  suffered 
less  than  most  of  the  master's  pictures  from  the 
blackening  which,  more  or  less,  was  the  neces- 
sary consequence  of  his  method  of  painting. 
The  "  Last  Supper  "  in  the  sacristy  of  S.  Giorgio 
Maggiore  is  more  powerful,  more  imaginative 
in  its  composition,  and  vaster  in  its  technical 
range ;  but  it  is  less  successful  in  its  general  at- 
tainment of  the  finer  qualities  of  art.  The  execu- 
tion is  ruder,  and  the  display  of  the  knowledge 
of  perspective  is  somewhat  obtrusive.  It  gives 
the  idea  of  a  painter  of  great  daring  and  ori- 
ginality, but  as  art  it  is  distinctly  inferior  to  the 
picture  in  the  Academy. 

The  painting  of  the  "Miracle  of  St.  Mark" 
(see  page  747)  was  followed  by  an  order  from 
Tommaso  di  Ravenna  for  three  more  scenes 
from  the  life  of  St.  Mark  for  the  school  of  the 
saint.  Of  these,  the  "  Embarkation  of  the  Body 
of  St.  Mark  at  Alexandria,"  fine  in  color  and 
architectural  composition,  is  in  the  old  Nicene 
library,  with  the  "  Rescue  of  a  Sailor  from 
Drowning  by  the  Saint."  The  third,  the  "  Find- 
ing of  the  Body  of  the  Saint  at  Alexandria,"  is 
in  the  Church  of  the  Angeli  at  Murano. 

When  Tintoretto  began  his  work  for  the  re- 
public is  not  clear ;  probably  it  was  not  till  Ti- 
tian had  made  room  for  him.  In  the  interim  we 
know  only  of  minor  works.  In  1560  he  began 
to  paint  in  the  School  of  S.  Rocco  and  the 
Doge's  Palace.  The  school  being  just  com- 
pleted, the  painters  were  invited  to  compete 
for  the  decoration  of  the  Sala  dell'  Albergo  by 
sending  in  sketches;  and  the  other  competitors, 
Veronese  among  them,  sent  in  very  careful  de- 
signs. Tintoretto  took  the  measure  of  the  palace 
for  the  picture,  painted  it  at  his  studio,  and  pre- 
sented the  finished  picture.  When  the  fraternity 
complained,  and  stated  that  all  they  wanted 
was  a  design,  he  replied  that  that  was  the  way 
he  designed.  He  offered  the  picture  as  a  gift 
to  the  saint,  and  got  the  order  to  paint  the  ceil- 
ing, which  was  the  work  in  consideration,  on 
the  same  terms.  It  was  of  course  difficult  for 
the  other  artists  to  compete  under  such  con- 
ditions, and  the  conclusion  was  inevitable.  But 
in  the  end  he  had  his  reward  in  the  commission 
to  paint  the  principal  picture  for  the  system  of 
illustration,  the  great  "  Crucifixion,"  for  which 
he  received  250  ducats,  as  well  as  that  for  the 
two  smaller  subjects  at  the  sides  of  the  door 
opposite  the  "  Crucifixion,"  the  "  Carrying  of 
the  Cross,"  and  the  "  Christ  before  Pilate,"  for 
which  his  compensation  was  131  lire.  In  1567 
he  painted  three  pictures  for  the  church  of  the 
confraternity  for  135  lire.   In  1565  he  seems 


to  have  become  a  member  of  the  confraternity, 
and  these  pictures  were  painted  between  that 
time  and  1567.  After  this  we  are  in  ignorance 
of  his  occupations  until  1576,  when  he  painted 
the  centerpiece  of  the  ceiling  of  the  great 
hall,  "  The  Plague  of  Serpents,"  and  began 
the  "  Passover  "  and  the  "  Moses  Striking  the 
Rock";  but  in  the  latter  part  of  1577  he  pro- 
posed, for  a  salary  of  100  ducats  a  year,  to  deco- 
rate the  whole  school,  at  the  rate  of  three  pic- 
tures annually.  The  proposition  was  accepted; 
but  Tintoretto  died  before  he  had  finished  his 
scheme. 

The  great  "  Crucifixion,"  which  bears  the 
date  MDLXV,  and  is  signed  jacobus  tincto- 
RETTUS,  is  generally  accepted  as  the  greatest 
of  the  painter's  works ;  and  the  School  of  S. 
Rocco  might  well  be  called  the  School  of  Tin- 
toretto, as  it  contains  the  greater  number  and 
in  some  respects  the  most  instructive  of  his  pic- 
tures. We  find  the  first  evidence  of  his  em- 
ployment by  the  state  in  the  receipt,  dated 
December  23,  1560,  for  25  ducats  for  painting 
the  portrait  of  the  new  Doge,  PriuH;  and  as 
prior  to  this  Titian  had  been  the  state  portrait- 
painter,  it  may  be  supposed  that  Tintoretto 
had  succeeded  to  the  charge.  In  the  follow- 
ing year  the  decoration  of  the  walls  of  the 
Libreria  Nuova  was  decreed,  and  Titian  was 
appointed  to  overlook  the  younger  painters 
who  took  part  in  the  work.  He  seems  to  have 
thought  that  Tintoretto  required  supervision 
the  most,  which  is  not  at  all  to  be  wondered  at, 
but  the  latter  succeeded  in  getting  an  inde- 
pendent commission  for  the  "  Diogenes."  He 
was  awarded,  next,  the  painting  of  the  three 
vacant  walls  of  the  Council-Hall. 

The  battle  of  Lepanto,  fought  at  this  time, 
was  naturally  the  occasion  of  a  warm  competi- 
tion among  the  painters  for  the  execution  of  the 
commemorative  picture.  The  commission  fell 
again  to  Tintoretto,  as  the  result  of  his  offer  to 
do  it  at  the  cost  of  the  material,  an  inducement 
which  even  the  Senate  considered  conclusive. 
He  pleaded  the  sacrifice,  at  a  later  epoch,  as  a 
claim  for  reversion  to  the  brokership  of  the 
Fondaco  dei  Tedeschi,  and  this  was  allowed 
him  in  1574.  The  great  conflagration  of  1574, 
followed  by  that  of  1577,  in  destroying  the 
works  of  Bellini,  Carpaccio,  and  Titian,  left 
room  for  Tintoretto  and  Veronese,  and  the 
former  had  the  greater  part  in  the  work  of 
restoration.  The  list  of  the  pictures  included 
in  this  vast  commission  is  almost  bewildering; 
but  as  examples  of  the  range  of  the  artist,  one 
may  look  at  the  "  Paradise  "  (painted  in  1589- 
1590),  a  vast  canvas,  full  of  wonderful  detail  of 
design  and  thought,  but  as  a  whole  perplexed 
and  confused  to  such  a  point  that  its  system 
seems  intentionally  to  have  been  left  without 
key,  and  the  "  Bacchus  and  Ariadne  "  in  the 


Vol.   XLIV.— 97 


746 


ITALIAN  OLD   MASTERS. 


Sala  deir  AnticoUegio,  painted  in  1578.  Tin- 
toretto died  in  1594,  of  fever  complicated  with 
some  internal  complaint. 

Probably  we  have  a  more  imperfect  idea  of 
the  color  of  Tintoretto  than  of  the  other  great 
Venetian  painters,  owing  to  his  having  painted 
on  dark,  generally  deep-red,  grounds,  which  at 
the  time  aided  to  harmonize  the  after-painting, 
but  which  with  age  came  through  and  black- 
ened the  entire  work,  affecting  most  the  trans- 
parent colors  of  the  shadows  and  increasing  the 
difference  between  the  solid  impasto  and  the 
thinner  tints.  This  practice  of  Tintoretto's  is 
entirely  opposed  to  that  of  Bellini  and  Titian, 
who  painted  on  white  or  light  neutral-gray 
grounds  with  a  carefully  prepared  foundation  of 
solid  color  in  the  laying  in  of  the  subject,  and 

1  Boschini,  who  lived  near  to  the  day  of  Tintoretto 
and  was  one  of  his  most  enthusiastic  admirers,  says  : 
"  Whenever  he  had  to  do  a  vvorlc  for  the  pubHc,  he  first 
went  to  see  the  place  where  it  was  to  go,  to  ascertain 
the  height  and  the  distance,  and  then,  conformably  to 
these,  in  order  to  form  his  conception  of  the  story,  he  ar- 
ranged on  a  table  models  of  figures  in  wax  made  by  him- 
self, arranging  them  in  groups,  serpentine,  pyramidal, 
capricious,  eccentric,  and  animated.  .  .  .  When  he  had 


guarded  still  further  against  change  by  leaving 
the  picture  to  dry  thoroughly  between  paintings, 
as  did  Titian,  or  by  painting  over  a  first  painting 
of  tempera,  as  did  Bellini.  The  preparation  of 
Tintoretto's  canvas  made  it  possible  for  him  to 
get  through  his  work  with  his  characteristic  ra- 
pidity, and  was  better  suited  than  the  orthodox 
Venetian  method  to  his  impatient  and  unme- 
thodical temperament.  The  romance  of  his  life 
is  in  the  story  of  his  daughter,  to  whom  he  was 
much  attached,  and  who  died  before  him.  He 
was  buried  in  the  church  of  S.  Maria  dell'  Orto, 
where,  as  his  monuments,  are  the  "  Last  Judg- 
ment," the  "  Worship  of  the  Golden  Calf,"  the 
"  Presentation  of  the  Virgin,"  and  the  "  Mar- 
tyrdom of  St.  Agnes."  ^ 

W.  J.  StiUnian. 

decided  this  important  distribution,  he  laid  in  the  pic- 
ture in  monochrome  (r///a;vj'f//ri5'),  having  always  some 
principal  object  with  reference  to  which  to  arrange  the 
general  mass.  And  then  he  often,  having  sketched  a  great 
canvas,  put  it  in  its  place  to  be  surer  of  its  suitableness  ; 
and  if  he  saw  something  which  made  discord,  he  was  ca- 
pable not  only  of  changing  a  single  figure,  but  even,  on 
account  of  that,  many  others  around  it  also,  not  mind- 
ing fatigue  or  time  in  a  question  of  glory  and  honor." 


NOTES    BY    TIMOTHY    COLE. 


THE  legend  of  the  "  Miracle  of  St.  Mark  "  is  as  fol- 
lows :  A  certain  Christian  slave  in  the  service  of  a 
nobleman  of  Provence  disobeyed  the  commands  of 
his  lord  in  persisting  to  worship  at  the  shrine  of  St. 
Mark,  which  was  at  some  distance,  and  iti  this  prac- 
tice he  spent  much  of  his  master's  time.  One  day,  on 
his  return  from  his  devotions,  he  was  condemned  to  the 
torture ;  he  was  haled  into  the  public  square,  bound 
hand  and  foot,  and  the  torture  was  about  to  be  inflicted, 
when  the  saint  himself  came  down  from  heaven  to  his 
aid.  His  bonds  were  burst  asunder,  the  instruments 
of  torture  were  broken,  and  the  executioners  were 
dumfounded  and  amazed. 

The  picture  hangs  in  Sala  XV,  called  the  "  Sala 
deir  Assunta,"  of  the  Academy  of  Fine  Arts  at  Venice. 
It  is  painted  on  canvas,  and  measures  13  ft.  8  in.  high 
by  19  ft.  6  in.  wide.  It  would  be  vain  to  attempt  to 
give  any  idea  of  its  richness  and  glow  of  color.  The 
sky  is  green  of  a  mellow  tone,  grading  off  into  a  golden 
light  toward  the  horizon.  The  flying  robe  of  the  saint 
is  an  orange-yellow,  burning  like  an  August  moon  in 
a  sea  of  green.  The  portion  of  the  robe  about  his  body 
is  a  rich  crimson.  I  invert  my  opera-glass  and  gaze 
at  it  through  the  larger  end,  and  the  painting,  reduced 
to  a  miniature,  blazes  like  an  array  of  precious  stones. 
The  woman  holding  the  child  is  a  jasper  of  brownish 
yellow.    The  man  above,  as  well  as  the  one  clinging 


to  the  pillar,  is  jet-black.  The  one  standing  on  the 
pedestal  of  the  pillar  has  a  ruby  vest,  very  dark  and 
lustrous.  The  figure  kneeling  over  the  slave  is  of  a  tur- 
quoise-blue. The  amber  flesh  of  the  slave  is  relieved 
against  a  chocolate-colored  ground,  or  rather  pavement. 
The  draperies  above  are  in  mingled  hues  of  saffron, 
blue,  gold,  and  crimson.  The  Turk  holding  up  the 
splintered  instrument  has  a  creamy-white  head-dress 
figured  with  blue.  His  robe  is  of  a  soft  neutral-green- 
ish tone.  The  judge,  seated  on  high,  is  clad  in  an  up- 
per vestment  of  a  deep,  rich  cardinal.  The  robe  over 
his  knees  is  yellow,  soft,  and  low  in  tone.  The  soldier 
seated  on  the  step  toward  the  front,  with  his  back  turned 
to  the  spectator,  has  a  vest  of  red,  bright  and  of  a 
crimson  hue.  The  shadows  are  very  strong,  and  have 
blackened  a  little  with  time.  The  whole,  however,  is 
harmonious,  glowing,  and  gem-like,  and  is  painted  with 
great  vigor.  It  is  said  that  there  are  three  portraits  of 
tlie  painter  in  the  body  of  the  work  :  namely,  the  figure 
immediately  above  the  woman  holding  the  child;  the 
one  next  to  the  turbaned  Turk,  with  the  feather  from 
the  apex  of  his  turban ;  and  that  in  the  extreme  right 
of  the  picture,  next  to  the  soldier  clad  in  chain-armor. 
The  portrait  of  the  donor  is  also  to  be  seen,  in  the  left- 
hand  corner ;  he  is  in  the  attitude  of  prayer,  kneeling 
at  the  foot  of  the  column,  with  eyes  closed. 

T.  Cole. 


J^    i    JV    . 


ly.! 


"^aJi 


,^h^ 


A.HEXPOSIT10H.  MFiCHES 


JULES    PEQUIGNOT   FILS 


CALERIE    PREAUBERT. 

1  luiii  cuU^^Uuii  ^t  O^ur^c  L.  Dc  1  urcat.     Uj      J2  inches.) 


THE    PICTORIAL    POSTER. 


THE    BILL-STICKER. 
BY     BOUCHARDON,    I742. 


F  "  Post  no  Bills  "  were 
the  universal  law 
nowadays,  those  of 
us  who  have  the  good 
fortune  to  live  in 
Paris  or  in  New  York 
would  be  deprived  of 
one  of  the  most  inter- 
esting manifestations 
of  modern  decora- 
tive art.  Perhaps  it 
is  not  wholly 


the  Oriental  worker  at  the  loom  cannot  guess 
the  pleasure  we  shall  take  in  his  subtle  comming- 
ling of  color  in  the  wools  of  the  rug  he  is  weav- 
ing. So  it  is  small  wonder  that  the  pictorial 
posters  which  adorn  our  blank  walls  pass  un- 
perceived,  and  that  we  do  not  care  to  observe 
the  skill  which  has  gone  to  their  making.  Yet 
the  recent  development  of  the  pictorial  poster 
in  France  and  in  America  is  worthy  of  careful 
consideration  by  all  who  take  note  of  the  artis- 
tic currents  of  our  time. 


unfair  to  suggest  that  this  nineteenth 
century  of  ours  is  a  day  of  little  things, 
and  that  our  silverware,  our  pottery, 
our  tiles,  our  wall-paper,  our  wood- 
cuts, our  book-covers,  each  in  its  kind, 
and  when  it  is  at  its  best,  are  better 
than  our  historic  painting,  our  heroic 
sculpture,  or  our  grandiose  architec- 
ture. The  minor  arts  have  their  place 
in  the  hierarchy  of  the  beautiful;  and 
more  often  than  we  are  willing  to 
acknowledge,  they  have  a  charm  of 
their  own  and  a  value  likely  to  be  as 
lasting  as  those  of  their  more  preten- 
tious elder  sisters.  The  idyls  of  Theo- 
critus and  the  figurines  from  Tanagra 

—  are  these  so  tiny  that  we  can  afford 
to  despise  them  ? 

We  are  all  of  us  prone  to  underesti- 
mate the  value  of  contemporary  labor 
when  it  is  bestowed  on  common  things. 
Often  we  fail  altogether  to  see  the 
originality,  the  elegance,  the  freshness, 

—  in  a  word,  the  <?;'/, — of  the  men  who 
are  making  the  things  which  encom- 
pass us  roundabout.  Possibly  the 
Greek  did  not  consider  the  beauty  of 
the  vase  he  used  daily,  the  form  of 
which  is  a  pure  joy  to  us;  and  probably 

748 


Tl£ATRE  DEu  RENAISS  Aires 


MaI?,iu£   HENHF.OUIN  .p:J 

■M 

/v\usiauE  'Wi, 


■1A0UL}]UCN0 


Wmi*mt  tL  WOJiMVDOT,  Kdltvar,  aS,  Plaoa  Om  la  M^dAUIa* 


BOUTET   DE   MONV 


From  collection  of  George  B.  De  Forest.    {21^/2  X  29  inches.) 


THE   PICTORIAL   POSTER. 


749 


MHimism 

JutES  ROUFF  k  C'  Ediieurs.  14.  CifiiMTHoHORt,  PARIS    . 

From  collection  of  George  B.  De  Forest.     (46^  X  67  incliis. ) 


Hugucs  Le  Roux.  A  consideration  of 
these  scattered  publications  will  lead 
one  to  the  belief  that  the  pictorial 
poster,  however  humble  its  position, 
has  its  place  in  the  temple  of  art,  just 
as  the  shop-card  has  when  it  is  de- 
signed by  William  Hogarth,  or  the 
book-plate  when  it  is  devised  by  Al- 
bert Diirer. 

M.  Sagot's  priced  catalogue  is  very 
far  from  being  complete,  but  it  con- 
tains more  than  two  thousand  numbers, 
and  nearly  all  these  are  from  Parisian 
presses.  Among  the  French  artists  of 
this  century  who  have  designed  post- 
ers, usually  lithographed  and  mainly 
placards  for  the  publishers  of  books  or 
of  operas,  are  the  Deverias,  Celestin 
Nanteuil,  Tony  Johannot,  Raffet, 
Gavarni,  Daumier,  Cham,  Edouard 
de  Beaumont,  Viollet-le-Duc,  Gus- 
tave  Dore,  Grevin,  Manet,  and  De 
Neuville ;  and  among  contemporary 
French  artists  who  now  and  again  have 
made  unexpected  essays  in  this  depart- 
ment of  their  craft  are  M.  Vierge,  M. 
Vibert,  M.  Clairin,  M.  Boutet  de  Mon- 
vel,  M.  Regamey,  M.  Robida,  and  the 
Franco- Russian  man  of  genius  who 
calls  himself  Caran  d'Ache.    Few  of 


This  development  has  not  passed  wholly 
without  notice.  In  1886  M.  Ernest  Main- 
dron  published  in  Paris  a  sumptuously 
illustrated  volume,  "  Les  Affiches  lUus- 
trees,"  in  which  the  history  of  outdoor  ad- 
vertising among  the  Greeks  and  the  Ro- 
mans and  the  modern  French  is  set  forth 
with  the  aid  of  colored  engravings.  Then 
there  was  an  exhibition  at  Nantes  in  1889, 
and  one  at  the  Grolier  Club  here  in  New 
York  in  1 890.  Next  there  was  held  a  special 
exhibition  in  1890  at  the  gallery  of  the 
Theatre  d' Application  in  Paris,  devoted 
entirely  to  the  extraordinary  posters  of  M. 
Jules  Cheret;  and  in  M.  Henri  Beraldi's 
"  Graveurs  Frangais  du  XIX^™<"  Siecle," 
M.  Cheret's  works  were  carefully  cata- 
logued. Finally,  in  the  fall  of  1891,  M. 
Edmond  Sagot,  a  Parisian  dealer  in  prints, 
issued  a  priced  catalogue  of  pictorial  post- 
ers, prepared  with  conscientious  care  and 
serving  as  an  iconography  of  the  art  in 
France.  Also  to  be  noted  are  articles  in  M. 
Octave  Uzanne's  "  Livre  Moderne  "  for 
April  and  May,  1891,  as  well  as  essays  on 
M.  Cheret  in  the  "  Certains  "  of  M.  Huys- 
mans  and  in  the  "  Figures  de  Cire  "  of  M. 


- 'tNFA*/T 


c)tiwSif5  j^^^W) 


RBlARDllT   a.l(;ur:22.  Place  dels  ttjdeleifis.  I 


Irnni  collection  of  Rich.inl  line  Lawn-iice.  (-•:;;. 


75° 


THE  PICTORIAL   POSTER. 


£ret.     trom  collection  of  Oeo.  B.  De  Forest.     (32J.2  X  93/^  ins.) 


the  posters  of  the  artists  in  either  of  these 
groups  have  other  than  an  interest  of  curiosity, 
for  the  designing  of  pictorial  advertisements  is 
an  art  in  itself,  a  jealous  art  yielding  its  favors 
only  to  those  who  study  out  its  secrets  with 
due  devotion  and  persistence.  Viollet-le- Due's 
sketch  of  the  streets  of  old  Paris  is  striking;  and 
so  are  Dore's  advertisements  for  his  own  "  Lon- 


don "  and  for  his  edition  of  the  "  Wandering 
Jew."  But  for  the  most  part  the  posters  of  the 
painters  I  have  named  are  muddled  and  ineffec- 
tive ;  they  lack  the  solid  simplicity  of  motive 
which  is  the  essential  of  a  good  advertisement; 
they  are  without  the  bold  vigor  of  design  which 
the  poster  demands ;  and  they  are  without  the 
compression  and  rehef  of  lettering  which  it  re- 
quires. These  are  qualities  which  the  ordinary 
artist,  not  seeking,  has  not  achieved,  perhaps 
because  he  half  despised  his  task.  These  are  the 
qualities  which  no  one  could  fail  to  find  in  the 
work  of  the  masters  of  the  poster  in  France,  M. 
Jules  Cheret,  M.  Willette,  M.  Grasset.  In  their 
advertisements  we  discover  a  perfect  under- 
standing of  the  conditions  of  this  form  of  pic- 
torial art.  The  first  condition  is  that  the  poster 
shall  attract  attention  at  all  costs ;  and  the  sec- 
ond is  that  it  shall  satisfy  the  eye  at  all  hazards. 
Thus  we  see  that  the  poster  may  be  noisy, — 
and  noisy  it  often  is,  no  doubt, —  but  it  must 
not  be  violent,  just  as  even  a  brass  band  ought 
ever  to  play  in  tune. 

In  the  little  group  of  Frenchmen  who  are 
developing  the  possibilities  of  a  new  art,  the 
supremacy  of  M.  Jules  Cheret  is  indisputable. 
He  is  the  pioneer,  and  he  is  also  the  man  of 
the  most  marked  originality.  His  is  the  hand 
which  has  covered  the  walls  of  Paris  with 
lightly  clad  female  figures,  floating  in  space, 
and  smiling  with  an  explosive  joy.  He  it  is 
who  has  evoked  the  fantastic  and  provocative 
damsels  of  the  most  brilliant  gaiety,  who  in- 
vite you  to  the  Red  Mill  and  the  Russian 
Mountains  and  the  other  places  in  Paris  where 
Terpsichore  is  free  and  easy.  The  radiant 
freshness  of  these  ilower-like  beauties,  and  the 
airy  ease  of  their  startling  costume,  carry  us 
back  to  Boucher  and  Moreau.  As  M.  Armand 
Silvestre  has  said,  "  The  French  taste  of  Fra- 
gonard  and  of  Watteau  here  lives  again  in  a 
conception  of  woman  quite  as  elegant,  and 
quite  as  deliciously  sensual."  That  the  best  of 
M.  Cheret's  flying  nymphs  are  deHcious  is  be- 
yond question,  but  that  the  most  of  them  are 
sensual,  in  the  lower  meaning  of  the  word, 
I  take  leave  to  deny.  Gallic  bacchantes  as 
many  of  them  seem,  they  are  never  lewd,  and 
one  might  venture  to  say  that  they  are  never 
without  a  decorum  of  their  own  :  they  are  not 
immoral,  like  so  many  of  the  delicate  indelica- 
cies of  Grevin,  for  example. 

M.  Cheret  is  a  Frenchman  who  was  brought 
up  as  a  lithographer.  When  he  was  only  a  lad 
he  went  to  London,  and  began  to  design  and 
put  on  stone  show-cards  for  Mr.  Rimmel,  the 
perfumer.  It  was  Mr.  Rimmel's  capital  which 
backed  him  when  he  returned  to  Paris  nearly 
a  quarter  of  a  century  ago,  with  the  intention 
of  producing  a  new  kind  of  pictorial  advertise- 
ment.   Almost  his  first  attempt  was  a  poster 


THE   PICTORIAL   POSTER.  751 

Some  of  thekeenest  critics 
of  Paris  have  joined  in 
praise  of  M.  Cheret's 
pictures,  though  they 
were  merely  decorative 
sketches,  doomed  to  de- 
struction by  the  first  rain- 
storm, and  produced  to 
the  order  of  any  chance 
advertiser  who  had  wares 
to  vend.  Some  of  the 
most  prominent  writers 
on  the  Parisian  news- 
papers have  thanked  M. 
Cheret  that  he  has  enh- 
vened  the  dull  gray  walls 
of  Paris  by  lightly  draped 
and  merrily  dancing  fig- 
ures, giving  a  suggestion 
of  life  and  warmth  to 
the  wintry  streets  of  the 
French  capital. 

These  aerial  bodies, 
with  their  diaphanous 
drapery  and  their  swift 
movement,  suggest  the 
figures  frescoed  on  the 
walls  of  Pompeii ;  and 
M.  Cheret  is  not  without 
his  share  of  the  Latin 
ease  and  verve  which  for- 
ever fixed  these  Pompeian 
girls  as  a  joy  to  the  world. 
He  has  also  the  bold 
stroke  of  the  Japanese 
artist,  and  he  has,  more- 
over, the  Japanese  fac- 
ulty of  suppressing  need- 
less details:  for  there  is 
never  any  niggling,  any 
finicky  cross-hatching, 
any  uncertainty,  in  M. 
Cheret's  work.   He  is  an 

fnp"  <mCHESAnTISnggES_i;0[IIUU<ERBE.tHU[UilTuHO£SC)IAMPSU  ■  ... 

„   ,■      f,^        c  r,  ,-     .   ,0      ,  ■   V.    ^       mipressiomst  m  one  sense 

From  collection  of  L.eorge  B.  De  Forest.    (28  x  45'i  inches.)  i 

of  the  word  —  an  mipres- 
for   the  Porte  Saint    Martin    fairy  play,  the    sionist  who  has  a  masterly  command  of  line 


"  Biche  au  Bois"  (in  which  Mme.  Sara  Bern- 
hardt was  acting  for  a  season  in  1867  while 
the  freak  was  on  her);  and  since  1867  M. 
Cheret  has  produced  three  or  four  hundred 
posters  for  theaters,  circuses,  music-halls,  char- 


and  an  absolute  control  of  color,  and  who  uses 
these  to  make  you  perceive  what  has  impressed 
him.  The  figure  he  sketches  may  be  as  saucy 
as  you  please,  but  there  is  no  slouch  about 
the  composition.    To  describe  his  work  ade- 


ity  fetes,  newspapers,  and  publishers;  and  he  quately  we  must  needs,  as  M.  Henry  Lavedan 

has  slowly  gained  a  perfect  mastery  over  his  suggested,  borrow  from  this  decorator  certain 

material,  until  now  he  can  bend  to  his  bidding  of  his  own  colors,  a  lemon-yellow,  and  a  gera- 

the    stubborn    lithographic    stone.    With    the  nium-red,   and   a  midnight    blue ;    and   even 

years,  and  with  constant  practice,  his  style  has  then  we  should  lack  the  cunning  of  the  artist 

grown  firmer,  and  his  pencil  has  now  a  larger  so  to  juxtapose  these  as  to  reproduce  his  effects, 

sweep.    With  the  years,  too,  has  come  recogni-  Almost  equally  difticult  is  it  to  reproduce  in 

tion  of  his  work,  and  he  knows  now  that  what  a  magazine  what  is  most  representative  in  M. 

he  does  is  appreciated  by    those    who   take  Chteret's  work;  for  aboveallelseishe  a  colorist, 

thought  about  the  things  which  surround  them,  and  the  attempt  to  translate  his  work  into  the 


752 


THE  PICTORIAL   POSTER. 


monochrome  of  typography  is  little  less  than  a 
betrayal.  The  compact  and  skilful  composi- 
tion can  be  shown,  and  the  force  of  the  draw- 
ings; but  the  effort  to  transfer  the  charm  of  the 
color  is  foredoomed  to  failure. 

In  his  earlier  posters  M.  Cheret  turned  to 
advantage  the  old  lithographic  device  of  shad- 
ing off  the  color  of  the  background  stone  so 
that,  for  example,  it  might  print  at  once  the 
dark  blue  of  the  sky  at  the  top  and  the  dark 
brown  of  the  foreground  at  the 
bottom.  Of  this  sort  are  the  post- 
ers for  Herve's  "  Petit  Faust," 
for  Miss  Lydia  Thompson's 
"Faust,"  and  for  the  Valentino 
dance-hall,  all  reproduced  in  M. 
Maindron's  book.  Later  came 
posters  in  which  this  gradation 
of  tint  was  abandoned  in  favor 
of  a  sharp  contrast  of  color, 
with  the  legend  aggressively  de- 
tached in  white  on  the  chro- 
matic background.  Of  this  sort 
are  the  "  TertuUia,  Cafe  Spec- 
tacle," the  "  Concert  des  Am- 
bassadeurs.  Fete  des  Mi- 
trons,"  and  the  incomparably 
vivid  and  vigorous  poster  for 
M.  Robida's  "  Rabelais  "  ;  and 
these  also  may  be  found  in  M. 
Maindron's  invaluable  volume. 
Of  this  sort  also  is  the  adver- 
tisement of  "  Les  Trois  Mous- 
quetaires "  reproduced  here- 
with. Since  the  appearance  of 
M.  Maindron's  monograph,  M. 
Cheret  has  developed  a  third 
style  by  simplifying  his  palette; 
with  an  artful  combination  of 
red  and  yellow  and  blue,  he 
achieves  a  chromatic  harmony 
which  is  the  despair  of  the  en- 
graver who  must  confine  him- 
self perforce  to  black  and  white. 
Of  this  sort  are  the  "  CouHsses 
de  rOpera  "  done  for  the  Musee 
Grevin,  the  flamboyant  figure 
which  served  to  advertise  the  e.gr*sset. 
print-shop  of  M.  Sagot,  and  the 
dream  of  happy  children  who  got  their  toys  at 
the  Louvre  last  Christmas. 

M.  Cheret's  methods  are  all  his  own,  and  it 
would  be  madness  for  any  hand  less  skilful  than 
his  to  attempt  to  utilize  them.  Fortunately, 
therefore,  he  has  not  been  imitated  by  M.  Wil- 
lette  or  by  M.  Grasset,  the  two  contemporary 
French  artists  who  come  closest  to  him.  M. 
Willette  indeed  confines  himself  wholly  to 
monochrome,  to  the  single  impression  of  black 
ink  on  white  paper ;  and  it  is  therefore  easy  to 
reproduce  here  one  of  his  most  characteristic 


posters,  the  masterly  composition  which  ad- 
vertised the  striking  pantomime  of  MM.  Carre 
and  Wormser,  "  L'Enfant  Prodigue."  M.  Wil- 
lette has  made  a  specialty  of  Pierrot;  and  in- 
deed the  revival  of  interest  in  that  French  type 
of  pantomimic  personage  is  due  partly  to  his 
pencil,  so  that  it  would  have  been  out  of  keep- 
ing had  any  one  but  he  prepared  the  poster  for 
the  play  of  which  the  prodigal  Pierrot  was  the 
hero. 


From  collecti 


M.  Grasset  is  a  colorist,  as  M.  Cheret  is, 
but  he  is  more  complex  in  his  style,  and  he 
prefers  a  Byzandne  richness,  as  in  his  "Jeanne 
Dare,"  He  put  on  paper  a  superbly  vigorous 
cavaher  trumpeting  forth  the  "  Fetes  de  Paris  " ; 
and  he  has  lately  prepared  a  soft  and  gentle 
poster  on  the  "  Sud  de  France,"  enticing  the 
chilly  Parisian  to  the  land  of  the  olive  and 
myrtle.  So  subdued  and  languorous  is  the 
color-scheme  of  this  last  piece  that  its  charm 
is  almost  as  difficult  to  render  in  black  and 
white  as  is  the  fascinadon  of  M.  Cheret's  riot- 


THE   PICTORIAL   POSTER. 


TtUREAUX 

n.  ALFREDO  TINQCO 

LAGARTIJO.  CARA  -  ANCHA 
ANGEL   PASTOR.  MAZZANTINI 
VALENTIN  MARTIN.  GUERRITA 

TAUREAUX 

APARTADO  SELECTION  QE  TAUREAUX 

OUVERTURE 

GODRSEllMllIl 


of  Richard  Hoe  Lawrence.     (49I2  X  99 


753 

ers,  chiefly  railroad  adver- 
tisements, having  a  quahty 
of  their  own,  a  national  note, 
perhaps  best  to  be  charac- 
terized as  a  broad  richness  of 
color  not  unlike  that  to  which 
we  are  accustomed  in  Roman 
scarfs  and  Bellagio  rugs.  In 
the  brilliancy  of  some  of  these 
posters  I  thought  I  detected 
the  influence  of  the  little 
group  of  Hispano-Roman 
painters;  and  I  noted  also 
the  decorative  methods  of 
the  lithographic  designers 
who  have  devised  the  showy 
but  not  inartistic  covers  for 
the  sheet-music  issued  by  the 
Milanese  publisher,  Signor 
Ricordi.  M.  Maindron  de- 
clares that  Signor  Simonetti, 
the  water-colorist,  is  to  be 
credited  with  the  elaborate 
posters  announcing  the  Ex- 
position of  Turin  some  six 
or  seven  years  ago.  Some- 
thing of  this  Italian  richness 
is  to  be  found  in  Spanish 
bull-fight  advertisements. 

As  to  contemporary  Ger- 
man work,  M.  Maindron  is 
silent,  as  becomes  a  patriotic 
Frenchman;  but  there  is  lit- 
tle in  contemporary  German 
art  which  should  give  a  pa- 
triotic Frenchman  a  thrill  of 
envy.  I  have  seen  no  Ger- 
man posters  which  compare 
with  the  finer  French  work, 
nor  any  which  have  the  brio 
and  swing  of  some  of  the 
Italian.  For  the  most  part 
the  German  posters  are  hard 
and  dull;  even  when  they 
are  learned  and  scholarly, 
they  are  academic  and  frigid. 
In  the  single-sheet  bill  ad- 
vertising an  exhibition  of 
fans  at  Karlsruhe  in  the  sum- 
mer of  1 89 1,  there  was  an 
ingenious  combination  of 
red  and  black;  and  a  poster  made  for  the 
Munich  exhibition  of  the  same  summer,  and 
representing  a  stately  winged  figure  of  Art  ad- 


ous  tints;    but  its  emblematic  decoration  is 
too  ingeniously  combined  to  allow  me  to  pass 
it  over  in  silence.    Even  this  is  less  character- 
istic than  his  "  Librairie  Romantique,"  done  in    vancing  solemnly  in  a  chariot  drawn  by  two 
the  very  spirit  of  1830.    And  it  is  M.  Grasset's    stalwart  steeds,  was  not  without  a  certain  twi- 
stained-glass  manner  which  M.  Carloz  Schwabe    light  harmony  of  tone. 

has  imitated  in  his  "  Salon  Rose  Croix."  British  art  is  as  lifeless  as  Teutonic;  the  triv- 

Any  one  who  spends  even  twenty-four  hours    iality  of  most  of  it,  and  its  dominant  note  of  do- 
in  Italy  —  as  it  was  my  good  fortune  to  do  a    mesticity,  are  to  be  observed  also  in  its  posters, 
year  ago  —  must  observe  not  a  few  Italian  post-    which  are  devoted  chiefly  to  things  to  eat,  and  to 
Vol.  XLTV.— 98. 


754 


THE   PICTORIAL   POSTER. 


things  to  drink,  and  to  things  for 
household  use.  The  brutal  vulgarity 
of  a  London  railway  terminus,  foul 
with  smoke,  is  emphasized  by  the 
offensive  harshness  of  the  posters 
stuck  upon  its  walls,  with  no  sense  of 
fitness  and  no  attempt  at  arrange- 
ment. Bariole  and  criard  are  the 
epithets  a  French  art-critic  would  in- 
evitably apply  to  the  most  of  these 
advertising  placards.  Oddly  enough, 
the  poster  is  still  outside  the  current 
of  decorative  endeavor  which  has 
given  us  the  Morris  wall-papers, 
the  Doulton  tiles,  the  Walter  Crane 
book-covers,  and  the  Cobden  San- 
derson bindings.  So  it  happens  that 
one  sees  in  Great  Britain  but  little 
mural  decoration  of  this  sort  which 
is  not  painfully  unpleasant.  Even 
when  the  advertiser  seems  to  have 
taken  thought  and  spent  money,  his 
effort  is  misdirected  more  often  than 
not.  Thus  a  firm  of  soap-makers  has 
plastered  up  all  over  London,  and  in 
a  printed  gilt  frame,  an  elaborate 
chromolithographic  facsimile  of  an 
oil-painting  by  Sir  John  Millais,called 
"  Bubbles,"  of  which  the  merits,  such 
as  they  are,  are  purely  pictorial  and 
in  no  wise  decorative.  As  a  great 
price  was  paid  for  the  painting,  and 
as  the  reproduction  was  obviously 
costly,  attention  was  no  doubt  attract- 
ed to  the  soap-makers,  and  so  the 
purpose  of  the  advertisement  was 
attained ;  but  no  artistic  interest  was 
subserved.  The  same  firm  of  adver- 
tisers was  far  better  advised  when  it 
procured  from  Mr.  H.  Stacy  Marks  a 
single  black-and-white  sketch  show- 
ing two  monks  washing  themselves 
with  the  soap  to  which  attention  was 
to  be  attracted.  Thus  it  is  in  Great 
Britain,  in  matters  of  art,  good  work  is 
ever  sporadic.  There  is  no  healthy  or- 
ganization and  no  steady  development 
in  England  as  there  is  in  France; 
individual  posters  may  be  common- 
place or  distinguished  or  ugly,  as 
luck  will  have  it ;  and  one  suspects 
that  public  opinion  rather  resents 
than  welcomes  the  stronger  effort. 

Besides  his  poster  for  the  soap-maker,  Mr.  "  Life  and  Work  in  Bavaria's  Alps  "  at  the  same 
Marks  did  two  of  his  quaint  birds  in  black  gallery,  Professor  Hubert  Herkomer  also  pre- 
and  white,  for  the  backs  of  the  sandwichmen  pared  a  poster  in  black  and  white.  But  Profes- 
who  were  calling  the  attention  of  the  pubhc  sor  Herkomer's  most  ambitious  composition  is 
to  a  collection  of  his  works  on  exhibition  at  the  the  huge  eight-sheet  poster  he  designed  in  1 88 1 
Fine  Art  Society's  galleries.  For  a  similar  occa-  to  announce  the  starting  of  the  "  Magazine  of 
sion  Mr.  Walter  Crane  made  one  of  his  dehght-  Art."  Ten  years  later  Professor  Herkomer  made 
ful  decorative  designs.    For  his  exhibition  of    another  poster,  more  unpretending,  for  "  Black 


CARLOZ  SCHWABE. 


I  collection  of  George  B.  De  Forest.  C30J4  X  ^Vz  inches.) 


THE   PICTORIAL   POSTER. 


755 


and  White."  These  posters  of  Professoi"  Her- 
komerwere  all  woodcuts  to  be  printed  in  black; 
and  so  were  the  posters  made  by  Mr.  E.  J. 
Poynter  for  an  insurance  company,  and  the 
poster  made  by  the  late  Frederick  Walker  for 
the  dramatization  of  the  "  Woman  in  White  " — 
a  single  female  figure  of  dignity  and  power. 

And  the  American  posters  of  the  last  gener- 
ation were  all  woodcuts.  It  was  in  the  United 
States,  indeed,  that  the  art  of  color-printing 
from  a  set  of  pine  blocks  had  been  carried  to 


American  circus  in  Paris  during  the  Exposition 
of  1867,  that  opened  M.  Cheret's  eyes  to  the 
possibilities  of  this  department  of  decorative 
art.  Probably  again  it  was  an  echo  of  M.  Che- 
ret's success  in  Paris  which  waked  up  the 
American  printers,  and  led  to  the  substitution 
of  the  softer  lithographic  stone  for  the  harsh 
wood  block. 

This  substitution  was  made  about  ten  years 
ago  by  the  Strobridge  Company  of  Cincin- 
nati, a  city  to  which  we  already  owed  the  ad- 


l5SSTELLt5i3G 


SRUHEi.B. 


FRIEORICH  GUTSCH, 


an  extreme.  This  polychromatic  printing,  of 
which  the  circus  poster  of  a  dozen  years  ago 
was  a  favorable  specimen,  was  not  without  a 
rough  effect,  although  it  was  hopelessly  unat- 
tractive when  considered  seriously.  American 
show-printing  revealed  much  mechanical  dex- 
terity, but  little  or  no  knowledge  of  the  prin- 
ciples of  design,  although  I  can  recall  more 
than  one  of  these  ruder  posters  not  without 
merit.  The  one  which  I  most  readily  remember 
advertised  Mr.  Augustin  Daly's  drama,  "  Di- 
vorce," and  its  central  figure  was  a  Cupid  weep- 
ing within  a  broken  wedding-ring.  Probably  it 
was  the  rather  startling,  and  somewhat  violent, 
American  posters,  hard  and  dry  woodcuts  all 
of  them,  which  proclaimed  the  advent  of  an 


From  collection  of  Brander  Matthews.    (285^  x  34/^  inches.) 


mirable  Rookwood  pottery ;  and  the  credit  of 
the  change  is  probably  due  to  the  late  Matt 
Morgan,  an  English  draftsman  of  great  fertility 
and  abundant  fancy.  Having  caricatured  the 
Prince  of  Wales  in  the  "  Tomahawk,"  he  had 
come  to  this  country  to  caricature  General 
Grant  in  "  Frank  Leslie's."  As  a  caricaturist 
he  labored  under  one  great  disadvantage ;  he 
could  never  draw  any  but  a  cockney  face ;  his 
Irishmen  and  his  negroes,  do  what  he  might, 
were  always  Englishmen  made  up  for  the  char- 
acter :  no  man  may  step  off  his  shadow.  But 
Morgan  was  an  accomplished  designer  with  a 
fine  sense  for  color,  as  he  had  shown  in  Eng- 
land by  his  scenery  for  Covent  Garden  panto- 
mimes.   Here  in  the  United  States  he  had  come 


756 


THUMB-NAIL    SKETCHES. 


AN  eXHIBlTlONofl 

mxmosm 


under  Japanese  influence.  So  it  came  about  that 
he  and  other  artists  employed  by  the  Stro- 
bridge  Company,  and  by  the  other  hthogra- 
phers  who  sought  to  rival  the  earlier  firm, 
evolved  a  new  style  of  poster,  lithographed  hke 
M.  Cheret's,  effective  and  picturesque  like  his, 
and  yet  composed  according  to  formulas  differ- 
ent from  his.  In  the  ten  or  a  dozen  years  since 
the  first  posters  were  put  on  stone  here  in  the 
United  States,  there  has  been  developed  a  form 
of  mural  decoration  wholly  unlike  anything 
which  existed  before  —  unlike  the  Parisian,  as 
I  have  just  asserted,  and  unlike  the  American 
woodcut  which  preceded  it  and  made  it  pos- 
sible. The  new  work  is  founded  on  a  thorough 
knowledge  of  design,  of  the  harmony  of  color, 
and  of  the  technical  possibilities  of  the  litho- 


graphic press.  The  result  is  of  varying  value, 
of  course.  It  is  often  commonplace,dull, empty. 
It  is  sometimes  violent  and  vulgar.  It  is  fre- 
quently beautiful  and  delightful.  There  are 
many  purely  decorative  posters,  printed  in 
soft  and  gentle  tones,  which  are  a  delight 
to  the  eye  both  in  design  and  in  color,  and 
which  now  give  a  zest  to  every  chance  ram- 
ble through  the  streets  of  New  York.  Con- 
sider, for  example,  the  striking  and  suggestive 
poster  "From  Chaos  to  Man,"  printed  by 
the  Springer  Company.  Consider,  again,  the 
"stand  of  bills  "  which  Mr.  H.  L.  Bridwell  de- 
vised to  announce  the  coming  of  the  Lillian 
Russell  Opera  Comique  Company ;  note  the 
tenderness  of  the  tints  and  the  fastidious  grace 
of  the  design;  and  confess  that  here  is  a  bril- 
liant mural  embellishment  of  a  new  kind.  Akin 
to  this  and  due  to  the  same  firm,  the  Strobridge 
Company,  were  smaller  posters  for  Mr.  W.  H. 
Crane  and  for  Mr.  Francis  Wilson,  delightfully 
decorative  in  their  simple  lettering. 

"  That  there  is  a  character  in  American  de- 
sign which  is  hardening  into  style,  I  think  every 
one  who  has  had  much  to  do  with  American  de- 
signers will  agree,"  wrote  the  lady  who  is  the 
chief  of  the  Associated  Artists,  a  year  or  so 
ago ;  and  Mrs.  Wheeler  went  on  to  declare  that 
this  American  style  seems  to  possess  three  im- 
portant qualities  :  "  First,  absolute  fidelity  and 
truth,  as  shown  in  Japanese  art;  second,  grace 
of  line,  which  perhaps  comes  from  familiarity 
with  the  forms  of  the  Renaissance ;  and  third, 
imagination,  or  individuality  of  treatment."  In 
its  own  way  the  American  pictorial  poster  has 
felt  the  influence  of  this  movement  forward ; 
and  it  can  be  called  to  bear  witness  in  behalf 
of  Mrs.  Wheeler's  declaration,  just  as  her  own 
embroideries  and  textiles  can,  or  the  La  Farge 
and  Tiffany  stained  glass,  or  any  other  latter- 
day  development  of  the  art  instinct  of  the 
American  people. 

Brander  MattJie^vs. 


THUMB-NAIL    SKETCHES. 

"STRANGE    TO    SAY." 

^      -      I    \  VAST  network  of  iron  rods  and  girders  overhead  ; 
.^    -._5iy--i;7r'\||  ^^  long  spirals  of  white  steam  rising  through  the  gray 
^*'^i|^ini^'^W'vf<^J^^-:.ir         smoke  from  a  score  of  locomotives  panting  and  puff- 
r /,•  -'     i-x/vY ',  -\.,     «•' 1     ing  as  if  impatient  to  be  gone;  avenues  of  rail  way-car- 
riages in  yellow,  brown,  and  black ;  hurrying,  pushing 
multitudes  jostling  one  another;  tired-looking  trav- 
elers at  the  end  of  their  journeys ;  hopeful-looking  trav- 
elers braving  the  possibilities  of  the  unknown  ;  luggage- 
porters,  in  caps  of  flaming  red  and  blouses  of  blue,  stag- 
gering under  Brobdingnagian  loads ;  parting  messages  drowned 
in  the  babel  of  sounds;  shrill,  warning  whistles  of  departing 
trains;  the  clanking  of  iron  wheels  on  the  turn-tables  —  then, 


THUMB-NAIL    SKETCHES. 


757 


suddenly,  as 
if  by  magic, 
the  multitude 
has  vanished. 
Guards  run 
along  the 
lines  of  car- 
.  riages,  slam- 
ming doors 
and  turning 
the  brass  keys.  The  door  of 
one  second-class  carriage  at 
the  end  of  the  line  is  open.  Into 
this  I  pitch  my  rug  and  valise,  and 
scramble  in  at"ter  them ;  the  guard 
slams  the  door,  screams  out  a  hoarse  word,  and 
the  long  train  glides  out  of  the  Rhijn  Spoorweg 
Station  at  Rotterdam  on  its  way  to  Paris. 

A  person  who  was  curled  up  in  the  corner 
let  his  feet  down  upon  the  floor  and  helped 
me  to  stow  my  valise  in  the  racks,  and,  when 
this  preliminary  was  settled,  produced  a  cigar- 
case,  and  inquired  in  toler- 
able English  if  I  aftected 
tobacco.  We  exchanged 
cigars.  His  was  excellent, 
while  the  one  from  my  case 
was  an  ordinary  three-cen- 
ter that  I  had  purchased  in 
Amsterdam.  Still,  he  did 
not  complain.  I  could  see 
inthedimlightofthe  winter 
evening  that  he  was  short.  He  could  hardly  have 
been  five  feet  in  height,  but  the  feature  that 
most  impressed  itself  upon  me  was  his  head, 
which  was  entirely  out  of  proportion  to  his  body, 
and  surmounted  by  a  fanciful  traveling-cap. 

Between  the  pull's  of  his  cigar,  which  he  con- 
sumed furiously,  he  informed  me  that  he  had 
been  in  America,  in  New  York,  several  years 
before;  indeed,  he  was  a  great  traveler,  I 
fancy,  for  he  had  some  sort  of  yam  of  half  a 
dozen  countries  to  relate,  in  his  queer  English, 
which  was  broken  with  as  fully  queer  French 
and  Italian.  He  longed  for  "  gompany,"  he 
said,  and  was  delighted  that  we  were  to 
be  traveling  com- 
panions. While  he 
was  rather  inquisi- 
tive, there  was  no- 
thing in  his  ques- 
tions at  which  one 
could  takeofifense; 
indeed,  he  was 
quite  as  amusing 
as  voluble,  and  all 
I  had  to  do  was 
to  listen  quietly, 
with  an  occasional 
"Yes  "or  "No  "for 
politeness'     sake. 


Soon,  however,  his  mood  changed,  and  as  we 
were  crossing  the  trestle  over  the  Hollands-Diep 
he  began  a  sort  of  sermon  upon  life,  delivered, 
it  seemed  to  me,  in  order  to  show  his  familiarity 
with  the  English  tongue,  and  apropos  of  noth- 
ing. "  As  t'e  eye  of  t'e  morninck  to  t'e  larg,  as 
t'e  honey  to  t'e  pee,  or  as  garrion  to  t'e  fulture, 
efen  such  iss  life  undo  t'e  heart  of  mangind." 
This  was  profound,  but  ere  long  it  became 
also  tiresome,  as  I  endeavored  to  show  him  po- 
litely, by  extracting  a  yellow-covered  Tauch- 
nitz  of  one  of  Bret  Harte's  latest  stories  from 
my  shawl-strap,  and  burying  myself  therein 
—  quite  a  transparent  subterfuge,  for  it  had 
become  entirely  too  dark  to  read.  He  had 
curled  his  legs  up  under  him,  and  I  fancied 
and  hoped  that  he  might  be  preparing  to  go 
to  sleep.  He  made  me  nervous  with  his  drone, 
and  with  his  immense  head  with  the  ridiculous 
cap  perched  upon  it.  It  seemed  as  if  I  could 
not  keep  my  eyes  away  from  him.  ^^'e  were 
slowing  up  at  a  small  station,  and  finally,  with 
a  grinding  of  the  brakes,  stopped  altogether. 
There  came  a  pounding  noise  of  feet  on  the 
roof  of  the  carriage,  a  crash,  and  then  a  lamp 
was  thrust  into  its  socket  overhead,  and  the 
footsteps  passed  on. 

My  companion  looked  positively  hideous  in 
the  dim  yellow  light  of  the  lamp  overhead, 
which  feebly  illuminated  the  carriage.  Where 
I  knew  his  eyes  to  be  were  two  huge,  black 
patches,  from  which  now  and  again  came  a 
flash,  and  his  cheek-bones  stood  out  with 
ghastly  prominence.  As  the  train  gathered 
momentum  his  singsong  voice  rang  above  the 
noise  of  the  swiftly  moving  wheels.  "  Com- 
plain nod  vith  the  fool  oft"  t'e  shordness  off 
dy  time.  Rememper — "  Confotmd  the  man  ! 
Was  I  to  be  annoyed  with  this  sort  of  thing  all 
the  way  to  Brussels  ?  "  Vishest  dou  to  haf  an 
obbortunity  oft"  more  wices  — "  I  turned  in 
the  seat,  and,  resting  my  head  against  the 
cushioned  side,  pretended  to  close  my  eyes  as 
if  to  sleep.  Of  no  avail.  Still  the  hissing  s's 
rang  upon  my  senses  with  maddening  reitera- 
tion. I  fancy  that  in  spite  of  my  nervousness  I 
must  have  dropped  oft"  to  sleep  for  an  instant, 
for  a  touch  awoke  me,  and,  starting  to  my 
feet,  I  found  that  my  companion  had  moved 
to  the  seat  exactly  opposite  my  own,  and  with 
his  hand  upon  my  knee, —  a  large,  bony  hand 
it  was,  with  enlarged  joints,  and  nails  bitten 
to  the  quick, — had  thrust  his  face  forward  un- 
til it  was  not  more  than  six  inches  from  my 
own.  He  was  still  chanting  his  infernal  prov- 
erbs :  "  Not  life  a  telusion,  a  zeries  off'mizatven- 
tures,  abursuit  oft"  ewils  linked  togedder  on  all 
sides  —  "I  thrust  him  away  from  me  with  an 
exclamation  of  disgust.  "  In  heaven's  name, 
man,  what  ails  you  ?  I  wish  you  would  oblige 
me  by  stopping  your  infernal  gabble  !  " 


758 


THUMB-NAIL    SKETCHES. 


"  Softly,  friend,"  he  said,  leaning  back  against 
the  cushions.  "  You  are  a  younk  man,  and  I 
am  an  alt  man.  I  haf  seen  moch  off  t'e  vorld. 
T'e  t'oughtless  man  pridleth  not  his  tongue;  he 
speaketh  at  random ;  and  is  gaught  in  the  vool- 
ishness  off  his  own  vords." 

"What  do  I  care  what  you  have  seen!" 
I  exclaimed  petulantly,  now  thoroughly  exas- 
perated. "  Have  the  goodness  to  keep  to  your 
own  end  of  the  carriage,  and  I  will  keep  to 
mine." 

In  a  moment  I  was  sorry  I  had  spoken  so 
harshly  to  the  man,  and  the  more  I  sought  to 
justify  my  words,  the  more  inexcusable  did  they 
become.  He  had  really  done  nothing  at  which 
I  could  take  offense.  The  garrulousness  of  age, 
and  the  very  natural  desire  to  exercise  his  know- 
ledge of  the  English  language  —  I  began  to  cast 
about  in  my  mind  for  some  means  with  which 
to  soften  and  undo  in  a  measure  that  which  I 
now  considered  my  extreme  irritability ;  but,  at 
the  same  time,  I  had  no  desire  to  stimulate  the 
now  happily  pent-up  flood  of  proverbs  to  re- 
newed activity.  I  gave  a  sidelong  glance  to- 
ward the  comer  to  which  he  had  retired,  and 
where  he  sat  with  his  legs  drawn  up  under  him, 
motionless  save  for  a  certain  nervous  activity 
of  his  two  thumbs,  which  re- 
volved one  over  the  other.  I 
could  not  tell  whether  he  was 
watching  me,  for  his  eyes  were 
invisible  in  the  deep  shadows 
made  by  his  overhanging  eye- 
brows. Upon  second  thought  I  determined  to 
let  well  enough  alone,  and,  lighting  my  little 
pocket-lantern,  hung  it  to  the  hook  at  my 
shoulder,  and  attempted  to  read  ;  but  I  was  un- 
able to  fix  my  mind  upon  the  story.  Over  the 
left-hand  corner  of  the  book  I  held,  those  long, 
bony,large-jointedthumbstirelessly,incessantly 
revolved.  Hold  the  book  as  I  might,  I  could 
not  drive  the  impression  from  my  mind.  I  was 
forced  to  count  the  revolutions  of  those  dread- 
ful thumbs.  My  mind  was  fully  made  up  to 
seek  another  compartment  at  the  first  stop  we 
made.  Still  the  thumbs  turned  and  twisted, 
their  size  exaggerated  in  the  light  from  above. 
I  fell  to  counting  their  revolutions,  almost  un- 
consciously at  first.  He  seemed  to  have  a  sys- 
tem—  nine  times  outward  toward  me,  ten  times 
inward  toward  himself.  Again  and  again  I 
counted  —  always  the  same,  with  a  madden- 
ing regularity.  On  we  sped  through  the  night. 
It  was  raining  now,  and  huge  drops  chased 
one  another  down  the  window-pane.  The 
"  rackety-tack  "  of  the  wheels,  the  easy  sway- 
ing of  the  carriage  to  the  left  and  then  to  the 
right,  and  the  turn  and  twist  of  those  immense 
thumbs —  I  closed  the  book  in  despair,  and  was 
in  the  act  of  thrusting  it  into  the  shawl-strap, 
when  with  the  rapidity  of  a  thunderclap  there 


came  a  grinding  crash,  and  the  carriage  left 
the  track,  and,  after  bumping  along  over  the 
sleepers,  fell  upon  its  side.  My  companion  was 

thrown  upon  me. 
He  grasped  me 
Avith  his  long 
arms,  and  wound 
his  legs  about  my 
body.  We  were 
shaken  about  like 
pills  in  a  box. 
There  was  an  in- 
s —  terval  of  silence, 
then  the  hissing  of  es- 
capmg  steam,  and  shrill 
screams,  all  of  which  I  heard 
in  my  struggles  to  escape  from 
the  octopus-like  grasp  of  my  companion.  At 
length  I  succeeded  in  breaking  away,  and  with 
a  strength  incredible  and  incomprehensible  to 
me  now,  I  forced  the  door  above  my  head  (for 
the  carriage  was  lying  upon  its  side)  just  as  a 
number  of  men  came  up  with  lanterns.  We 
soon  had  the  little  Frenchman,  or  whatever  he 
was,  out  of  the  wreck,  which  was  not  a  very 
bad  one,  only  two  carriages  having  left  the 
track  in  consequence  of  a  spreading  rail.  He 
was  quite  insensible,  but  when  we  got  him  to 
the  flagman's  hut,  some  distance  down  the 
track,  he  came  to  himself,  and  we  speedily  dis- 
covered that  he  was  only  a  bit  shaken  up. 
However,  to  my  extreme  embarrassment,  he 
threw  himself  upon  his  knees  at  my  feet,  hailed 
me  as  his  deliverer,  and  called  me  by  many 
other  highfalutin  names.  His  gratitude  was 
boundless,  and  in  vain  did  I  explain  to  him 
with  all  the  emphasis  at  my  command  that  I  had 
done  nothing  to  earn  it.  He  would  hear  noth- 
ing of  the  sort,  waved  away  my  explanations 
as  "  motesty,"  "  prafe  motesty,"  and,  to  my  dis- 
may, insisted  upon  embracing  me  at  intervals. 
I  will  not  dwell  upon  the  uncomfortable  de- 
tails of  the  rest  of  the  journey  to  Paris.  Suffice 
it,  that  I  was  unable  to  escape  from  my  bete 
noire  until  I  reached  the  Gare  du  Nord,  where 
I  succeeded  in  eluding  him,  it  is  true,  but  only 
for  seven  sweet  days,  after  which 
blessed  period  he  found  me,  and, 
embracing  me  in  a  paroxysm  of 
joy,  took  up  his  lodging  in  the 
building  where  I  had  my  apart- 
ment and  studio  —  a  huge,  ram- 
bling brick  building  in  a  quarter 
somewhat  frequented  by  paint- 
ers. Then  followed  a  period 
upon  which  I  look  back 
-c_-  with  a  shudder ;  days  when 
I  kept  my  studio  door  (which 
at  intervals  resounded  with  that  hated,  timid 
knock)  locked  and  barred  even  to  my  best 
friends,  fearing  the  entrance  of  my  grateful 


THUMB-NAIL    SKETCHES. 


759 


bete  noire.  I  remember  the  unreasonable 
shudder  of  disgust  I  felt  one  night  when  I 
had  gained  the  court  in  fancied  security,  only 
to  meet  him  coming  in  the  opposite  direction, 
feel  the  grasp  of  that  horrible  hand  upon  my 
arm,  and  hear  the  hissing  s's  in  my  ear.  I 
could  not  work;  it  was  out  of 
the  question.  My  picture, 
which  I  had  intended  for  the 
Salon,  was  barely  begun.  My 
bete  noire  showered  delicacies 
upon  me.  The  concierge,  for 
example,  who  did  my  cook- 
ing, would  bring  me  game 
out  of  season  w' hen  I  expected  a  chop,  until  at 
last  I  forbade  him  to  receive  the  things  from 
"  la  tete  enorme,"  as  he  styled  him.  I  fancy  the 
villain  lived  well  in  the  interval. 

Each  morning  expensive  cut  flowers  were 
left  at  my  door  by  the  florist,  who  refused  to 
carry  them  away,  saying  that  he  had  been  or- 
dered to  leave  them,  and  had  no  further  know- 
ledge in  the  matter.  So  there  they  stayed  in 
the  hallway,  heaped  up  against  the  wall  as  if 
for  a  tomb  in  Pere  La  Chaise,  until  swept  away 
by  the  concierge,  with  semi- 
pious  ejaculations.  Can  you 
imagine  my  position,  then, 
with  such  unmerited  grati- 
tude thrust  upon  me  ?  Fi- 
nally I  determined  to  end  it 
all,  and  wrote  to  London, 
asking  a  friend  to  look  me 
up  quarters,  as  I  would  leave 
Paris  at  once.  Carefully, 
but  with  a  great  show  of 
carelessness,  I  let  the  con- 
cierge understand  that  I 
would  attend  the  opera  that  ^.we 
evening,  in  order  to  cover 
my  outgoing.  I  intended  to  take  the  night  train 
for  Boulogne,  thence  go  by  boat  to  Folkestone. 
Finally  we  arrived  at  Boulogne.  The  night 
was  a  stormy  one.  Overhead  the  moon  strug- 
gled with  ragged  clouds.  It  had  been  raining, 
for  the  pavement  was  wet,  and  the  long  lines 
of  yellow  gas-lamps  were  reflected  prettily. 
There  was  a  rush  of  the  passen- 
toward  the  boat,  which 
y  rocking  and  plunging 
t  the  jetty,  and  when 
we  reached  the  gang- 
plank the  mail-bags 
were  already  being 
taken  aboard,  and 
a  huge  derrick  was 
creaking  and  groan- 
ing as  the  deck- 
hands hoisted  some 
heavy    cases    over 


the  side.    I  hugged  myself  with  delight,  think- 
ing that  I  had  escaped  from  my  admirer. 

For  an  instant  I  fancied  I  saw  the  pallid  face 
and  shrunken  figure  of  the  little  old  man  among 
the  crowd  already  gathered  upon  the  deck,  and 
I  sickened  at  the  thought  that  my  long  and 
tiresome  night  journey  had  been  endured  for 
naught.  Determined  to  know  the  worst,  I 
jumped  down  from  the  plank  to  the  deck  where 
the  face  had  appeared  in  the  glare  of  the  electric 
light,  only  to  see  it  vanish  over  the  companion- 
ladder  leading  below  to  the  freight  deck.  I  could 
not  be  sure  that  it  was  my  bete  noire,  but  I  was 
bound  to  follow  the  figure  and  to  satisfy  my  fears. 
Groping  my  way  among  the  piled-up  luggage 
and  boxes,  I  reached  a  clear  space  only  to  feel 
strong  hands  grasp  me  from  behind.  I  heard  a 
scuffle,  the  arms  were  wrenched  from  about 
my  neck,  and,  turning,  I  saw  the  little  old  man 
being  forced  up  the  gang-plank  to  the  pier  by 
two  muscular-looking  fellows.  Before  I  could 
well  collect  my  senses,  the  bell  clanged  noisily, 
the  gang-plank  was  drawn  up,  and  with  increas- 
ing speed  we  left  the  jetty.  I  could  make  out 
a  number  of  people  seemingly  struggling  with 
some  one  under  the  brightly  gleaming  elec- 
tric lights,  and  I  fancied  I  heard  a  scream;  but 
in  less  time  than  it  takes  to  read  this  we  had 
passed  beyond  the  end  of  the  jetty,  with  its  final 
red  and  green  lights,  and  were  on  our  way 
across  the  Channel.  In  looking  over  the  papers 
at  breakfast  one  morning  several  days  after  my 
arrival  in  London,  I  came  upon  the  following : 

LUCKY  CAPTURE. 

On  Wednesday  night  last,  as  the  express-boat 
from  Boulogne  for  Folkestone  was  about  to  leave 
the  jetty,  a  person  of  singular  aspect  was  observed 
by  the  officers  acting  in  a  manner  fitted  to  arouse 
suspicion.  He  was  seen  to  scrutinize  the  faces  of 
the  passengers,  and  finally  to  follow  a  gentleman 
on  board  the  steamer,  where  he  secreted  himself  in 
a  dark  passageway,  from  which  he  leaped  upon  the 
back  of  the  unsuspecting  traveler  and  attempted 
to  strangle  him.  Doubtless  he  would  have  suc- 
ceeded in  his  murderous  purpose,  but  for  the  vigi- 
lance of  the  '"sergeant  de  ville,"  who  promptly 
called  assistance,  and  after  a  severe  struggle  with 
the  assassin,  who  seemed  to  be  possessed  of  hercu- 
lean strength,  succeeded  in  placing  the  nippers 
upon  him.  Taken  before  the  police,  he  was  unable 
togiveanaccountofhimself.andacted  in  a  very  vio- 
lent manner.  It  is  thought  that  the  author  of  many 
mysterious  crimes  has  at  length  been  secured. 

Later.  —  The  individual  captured  on  the  Bou- 
logne boat  on  Wednesday  proves  to  be  a  certain 
exalted  personage  of  unsound  mind  who  made  his 
escape  from  a  private  "  maison  de  sante"  at  The 
Hague.  The  sergeant  de  ville  has  been  hand- 
somely rewarded  for  making  the  capture  of  the 
unfortunate,  who,  in  company  with  four  keepers, 
left  for  The  Hague  this  morning. 

George  Wharton  Edivards. 


THE    SHOOTING-MATCH. 


A    MOUNTAIN    EUROPA. 

IN    TWO     PARTS.— PART    I. 


PICTURES    BY    E,    W.    KEMBLE. 


S  Clayton  rose  to  his  feet 
in  the  still  air,  the  tree- 
tops  began  to  tremble  in 
the  gap  below  him,  and  a 
rippling  ran  through  the 
leaves  up  the  mountain- 
side. Drawing  off  his  hat, 
he  stretched  out  his  arms 
to  meet  it,  and  his  eyes  closed  with  delight  as 
the  cool,  soft  wind  struck  his  throat  and  face 
and  lifted  the  hair  from  his  forehead.  About 
him  the  mountains  lay  like  a  tumultuous  sea — 
the  Jellico  Spur,  stilled  gradually  on  every  side 
into  vague,  purple  shapes  against  the  broken 
rim  of  the  sky,  and  Pine  Mountain  and  the 
Cumberland  Range  racing  in  like  breakers 
from  the  north.  Beneath  him  lay  Jellico  Val- 
ley, and  just  visible  in  a  wooded  cove,  whence 
Indian  Creek  crept  into  sight,  was  a  mining- 
camp —  a  cluster  of  white  cabins  —  from  which 
he  had  climbed  that  afternoon.  At  that  distance 
the  wagon-road  narrowed  to  a  bridle-path,  and 
the  figure  moving  slowly  along  it  and  enter- 
ing the  forest  at  the  base  of  the  mountain  was 
shrunk  to  a  toy.  For  a  moment  Clayton  stood 
with  his  face  to  the  west,  drinking  in  the  air ; 
then  tightening  his  belt,  and  grasping  the  pliant 
760 


body  of  a  sapling  that  grew  within  reach,  he 
swung  himself  from  the  rock.  His  dog,  stirred 
from  sleep  by  the  crackling  branches,  sprang 
after  him.  The  descent  was  sharp.  At  times 
he  was  forced  to  cling  to  the  birch-tops  till 
they  lay  flat  upon  the  mountain-side. 

Breathless,  he  reached  at  last  a  boulder  from 
which  the  path  was  easy  to  the  valley  below. 
With  quivering  muscles  he  leaned  against  the 
soft  rug  of  moss  and  lichens  that  covered  it. 
The  shadows  had  crept  from  the  foot  of  the 
mountains,  darkening  the  valley,  and  slowly  lift- 
ing up  the  mountain-side  beneath  him  a  long, 
wavering  line  in  which  met  the  cool,  deep  green 
of  the  shade  and  the  shining  bronze  where  the 
sunlight  still  lay.  Lazily  following  this  line, 
his  gaze  rested  on  two  moving  shadows  that 
darted  long,  jagged  shapes  into  the  sunlight 
and  as  quickly  withdrew  them.  As  the  road 
wound  up  toward  him,  two  figures  were  vaguely 
visible  through  the  undergrowth.  Presently  a 
head  bonneted  in  blue  rose  above  the  bushes, 
and  as  they  parted  for  an  instant  Clayton's 
half-shut  eyes  suddenly  opened  wide  and  were 
fixed  with  a  look  of  amused  expectancy  where 
a  turn  of  the  path  must  bring  rider  and  beast 
into  plain  sight.    Apparently  some  mountain 


A   MOUNTAIN'  EUROPA. 


761 


girl,  wearied  by  the  climb  or  in  a  spirit  of  fun,  had 
mounted  her  cow  while  driving  it  home ;  and 
with  a  smile  at  the  thought  of  the  confusion  he 
would  cause  her,  Clayton  stepped  around  the 
boulder  and  awaited  their  approach.  With  the 
slow,  easy  swing  of  climbing  cattle,  the  beast 
brought  its  rider  into  view.  A  bag  of  meal  lay 
across  its  shoulders,  and  behind  this  the  girl  — 
for  she  was  plainly  young  —  sat  sidewise,  with 
her  bare  feet  dangling  against  its  flank.  Her 
face  was  turned  toward  the  valley  below,  and 
her  loosened  bonnet  half  disclosed  a  head  of 
bright  yellow^  hair. 

Catching  sight  of  Clayton,  the  beast  stopped 
and  lifted  its  head,  not  the  meek,  patient 
face  he  expected  to  see,  but  a  head  that  was 
wrinkled  and  vicious  —  the  head  of  a  bull. 
Only  the  sudden  remembrance  of  a  dead  moun- 
tain custom  saved  him  from  utter  amazement. 
He  had  heard  that  long  ago,  when  beasts  of  bur- 
den were  scarce,  cows  and  especially  bulls  were 
worked  in  plows  and  ridden  by  the  mountaineers, 
even  by  the  women.  But  this  had  become 
a  tradition,  the  humor  of  which  greater  pros- 
perity and  contact  with  a  new  civilization  had 
taught  even  the  mountain  people  to  appreci- 
ate. The  necessities  of  this  girl  were  evidently 
as  great  as  her  fear  of  ridicule  seemed  small. 
When  the  brute  stopped,  she  began  striking 
him  in  the  flank  with  her  bare  heel,  without 
looking  around,  and  as  he  paid  no  attention  to 
such  painless  goading,  she  turned  with  sudden 
impatience  and  lifted  a  switch  above  his  shoul- 
ders. The  stick  was  arrested  in  mid-air  when 
she  saw  Clayton,  and  then  dropped  harmlessly. 
The  quick  fire  in  her  eyes  died  suddenly  away, 
and  for  a  moment  the  two  looked  at  each 
other  with  mutual  curiosity,  but  only  for  a 
moment.  There  was  something  in  Clayton's 
gaze  that  displeased  her.  Her  face  clouded, 
and  she  dropped  her  eyes. 

"  G'  long,"  she  said,  in  a  low  tone.  But  the 
bull  had  lowered  his  head,  and  was  standing 
with  feet  planted  apart  and  tail  waving  un- 
easily.  The  girl  looked  up  in  alarm. 

"  Watch  out  thar ! "  she  called  out  sharply. 
"  Call  thet  dog  off —  quick  !  " 

Clayton  turned,  but  his  dog  sprang  past  him 
and  began  to  bark.  The  bull,  a  lean,  ac- 
tive, vicious-looking  brute,  answered  with  a 
snort. 

"  Call  him  off,  I  tell  ye!"  cried  the  girl,  an- 
grily, springing  to  the  ground.  "  Git  out  o' 
ther  way.  Don't  you  see  he  's  a-comin'  at 
ye?  " 

The  dog  leaped  nimbly  into  the  bushes,  and 
the  maddened  bull  was  carried  on  by  his  own 
impetus  toward  Clayton,  who,  with  a  quick 
spring,  landed  in  safety  in  a  gully  below  the 
road.  When  he  picked  himself  up  from  the 
uneven  ground  where  he  had  fallen,  the  beast 
Vol.  XLIV.— 99. 


had  disappeared  around  the  boulder.  The  bag 
had  fallen  and  had  broken  open,  and  some  of 
the  meal  was  spilled  on  the  ground.  The  girl, 
flushed  and  angry,  stood  above  it. 

"  Look  thar,  now,"  she  said.  "  See  whut 
you  've  done.  Why  did  n't  ye  call  thet  dog  off?" 

"  I  could  n't,"  said,  Clayton,  politely.  "  He 
would  n't  come.    I  'm  sorry,  very  sorry." 

"  Can't  ye  manage  yer  own  dog  ? "  she 
asked,  half  contemptuously. 

"  Not  always." 

"  Then  ye  oughter  leave  him  ter  home,  and 
not  let  him  go  round  a-skeerin'  folks'  beastis." 
With  a  little  gesture  of  indignation  she  stooped 
and  began  scooping  up  the  meal  in  her  hand. 

"  Let  me  help  you,"  said  Clayton.  The  girl 
looked  up  in  surprise. 

"  Go  'way,"  she  said. 

But  Clayton  stayed,  watching  her  helplessly. 
He  wanted  to  carry  the  bag  for  her,  but  she 
swung  it  to  her  shoulder,  and  moved  away. 
He  followed  her  around  the  boulder,  where 
his  late  enemy  was  browsing  peacefully  on  sas- 
safras-bushes. 

"  You  stay  thar,"  said  the  girl,  "  and  keep 
thet  dog  back." 

"  Won't  you  let  me  help  you  get  up  ?  "  he 
asked. 

Without  answering,  the  girl  sprang  lightly  to 
the  bull's  back.  Once  only  she  looked  around 
at  him.  He  took  off  his  hat,  and  a  puzzled 
expression  came  into  her  face.  Then  without 
a  word  or  a  nod  she  rode  away.  Clayton 
watched  the  odd  pair  till  the  bushes  hid  them. 

"  Well,"  he  thought,  as  he  sat  down  upon  a 
a  stone  in  bewilderment,  "  if  that  kind  of  girl 
was  partial  to  bull-riding  in  mythological  days, 
I  don't  know  that  I  envy  the  old  furioso  of 
Olympus  when  he  carried  off  Europa." 

She  seemed  a  very  odd  creature,  singularly 
different  from  the  timid  mountain  women  who 
shrank  with  averted  faces  almost  into  the  bushes 
when  he  met  them.  She  had  looked  him 
straight  in  the  face  with  steady  eyes,  and  had 
spoken  as  though  her  sway  over  mountain  and 
road  were  undisputed  and  he  had  been  a 
wretched  trespasser.  She  had  paid  no  atten- 
tion to  his  apologies,  and  had  scorned  his 
offers  of  assistance.  She  seemed  no  more  an- 
gered by  the  loss  of  the  meal  than  by  his  inca- 
pacity to  manage  his  dog,  which  seemed  to 
typify  to  her  his  general  worthlessness.  He 
had  been  bruised  severely  by  his  fall,  and  she 
did  not  even  ask  if  he  were  hurt.  Indeed,  she 
seemed  not  to  care,  and  she  had  ridden  away 
from  him  as  though  he  were  worth  no  more 
consideration  than  the  stone  on  which  he 
rested. 

He  was  amused,  and  a  trifle  irritated.  How 
could  there  be  such  a  curious  growth  in  the 
mountains,  he  questioned,  as  he  rose  and  con- 


762 


A   MOUNTAIN  EUROPA. 


tinued  the  descent  ?  There  was  an  unusual 
grace  about  her,  in  spite  of  her  mascuhne  air. 
Her  features  were  regular,  almost  classic  in  out- 
line, the  nose  straight  and  delicate,  the  mouth 
resolute,  the  brow  broad  and  intelligent,  and 
the  eyes  intensely  blue, —  tender,  perhaps, 
when  not  flashing  with  anger, —  and  altogether 
without  the  listless  expression  he  had  marked 
in  all  other  mountain  women,  and  which,  he 
had  noticed,  deadened  into  pathetic  hopeless- 
ness later  in  life.  Her  figure  was  erect  and 
lithe,  and  her  imperious  manner,  despite  its 
roughness,  savored  of  something  high-bom. 
Where  could  she  have  got  that  bearing  ?  She 
belonged  to  a  race  whose  descent,  he  knew, 
was  unmixed  English ;  upon  whose  lips  still 
lingered  words,  phrases,  and  forms  of  speech 
that  Shakspere  had  heard  and  used.  Who 
could  tell  what  blood  ran  in  her  veins  ? 

Musing,  he  had  come  almost  unconsciously 
to  a  spur  of  the  mountains  beneath  which  lay 
the  little  mining-camp.  It  was  six  o'clock,  and 
the  miners,  grim  and  black,  each  with  a  pail 
in  hand  and  a  little  oil-lamp  in  his  cap,  were 
going  down  from  work.  A  shower  had  passed 
over  the  mountains  above  him,  and  the  last 
sunlight,  coming  through  a  gap  in  the  west, 
struck  the  rising  mist  and  turned  it  to  gold. 
On  a  rock  which  thrust  from  the  mountain  its 
gray,  somber  face,  half-embraced  by  a  white 
arm  of  the  mist,  Clayton  saw  the  figure  of  a 
woman.  He  waved  his  hat,  but  the  figure 
stood  motionless,  and  he  turned  into  the  woods 
toward  the  camp. 

It  was  the  girl,  and  when  Clayton  disap- 
peared she  too  turned  and  continued  her  way. 
She  had  stopped  there  because  she  knew  he 
must  pass  a  point  where  she  might  see  him 
again.  She  was  little  less  indifferent  than  she 
seemed ;  her  motive  was  little  more  than  cu- 
riosity. She  had  never  seen  that  manner  of 
man  before.  Evidently  he  was  a  "  furriner," 
she  thought,  from  the  "  settlemints."  No  man 
in  the  mountains  had  a  smooth,  round  face  like 
his,  or  wore  such  a  queer  hat,  such  a  soft, 
white  shirt,  and  no  "  galluses,"  or  carried 
such  a  shiny,  weak-looking  stick,  or  owned  a 
dog  that  he  could  n't  make  mind  him.  She 
was  not  wholly  contemptuous,  however.  She 
had  felt  vaguely  the  meaning  of  his  politeness 
and  deference.  She  was  puzzled  and  pleased, 
she  scarcely  knew  why. 

"  He  was  mighty  accommodatin',"  she 
thought.  "  But  whut,"  she  asked  herself,  as 
she  rode  slowly  homeward  —  "  whut  did  he 
take  off"  his  hat  fer  ?  " 

II. 

Lights  twinkled  from  every  cabin  as  Clay- 
ton passed  through  the  camp.  Outside  the 
kitchen  doors,  miners,  bare  to  the  waist,  were 


bathing  their  blackened  faces  and  bodies,  with 
children,  tattered  and  unclean,  but  healthful, 
playing  about  them ;  within,  women  in  loose 
gowns,  with  sleeves  uprolled  and  with  disor- 
dered hair,moved  like  phantoms  through  clouds 
of  savory  smoke.  The  commissary  was  brilliant- 
ly lighted.  At  a  window  close  by  improvident 
miners  were  drawing  the  wages  of  the  day,  while 
their  wives  waited  in  the  store  with  baskets  un- 
filled. In  front  of  the  commissary  a  crowd  of 
negroes  were  talking,  laughing,  singing,  and 
playing  pranks  like  children.  Here  two,  with 
grinning  faces,  were  squared  off",  not  to  spar, 
but  to  knock  at  each  other's  tattered  hat ;  there 
two  more,  with  legs  and  arms  indistinguishable, 
were  wrestling ;  close  by  was  the  sound  of  a 
mouth-harp,  a  circle  of  interested  spectators, 
and,  within,  two  dancers  pitted  against  each 
other,  and  shuffling  mth  a  zest  that  labor  seemed 
never  to  affect. 

Immediately  after  supper  Clayton  went  to 
his  room,  lighted  his  lamp,  and  sat  down  to  a 
map  he  was  tracing.  His  room  was  next  the 
ground,  and  a  path  ran  near  the  open  window. 
As  he  worked,  every  passer-by  paused  a  mo- 
ment to  look  curiously  within.  On  the  wall 
above  his  head  a  pair  of  fencing-foils  were 
crossed  beneath  masks.  Below  these  hung  two 
pistols,  such  as  courteous  Claude  Duval  used 
for  side-arms.  Opposite  were  two  old  rifles,  and 
beneath  them  two  stone  beer-mugs,  and  a  Ger- 
man student's  pipe  absurdly  long  and  richly 
ornamented.  A  mantel  close  by  was  filled  with 
curiosities,  and  near  it  hung  a  banjo  unstrung, 
a  tennis-racket,  and  a  blazer  of  startling  colors. 
Plainly  they  were  relics  of  German  student  life, 
and  the  odd  contrast  they  made  with  the  rough 
wall  and  ceiling  suggested  a  sharp  change  in 
the  fortunes  of  the  young  worker  beneath. 
Scarcely  six  months  since  he  had  been  suddenly 
summoned  home  from  Germany.  The  reason 
was  vague,  but  having  read  of  recent  American 
failures,  notably  in  Wall  street,  he  knew  what 
had  happened.  Reaching  New  York,  he  was 
startled  for  an  instant  by  the  fear  that  his  mother 
was  dead,  so  gloomy  was  the  house,  so  subdued 
his  sister's  greeting,  and  so  worn  and  sad  his 
father's  face.  The  trouble,  however,  was  what 
he  had  guessed,  and  he  had  accepted  it  with 
quiet  resignation.  The  financial  wreck  seemed 
complete ;  but  one  resource,  however,  was  left. 
Just  after  the  war  Clayton's  father  had  pur- 
chased mineral  lands  in  the  South,  and  it  was 
with  the  idea  of  developing  these  that  he  had 
encouraged  the  marked  scientific  tastes  of  his 
son,  and  had  sent  him  to  a  German  university. 
In  view  of  his  own  disaster  and  the  fact  that 
a  financial  tide  was  swelling  southward,  his 
forethought  seemed  almost  an  inspiration.  To 
this  resource  Clayton  turned  eagerly ;  and 
after  a  few  weeks  at  home,  which  were  made 


A   MO  [/ATTAIN  EUROPA. 


763 


intolerable  by  straitened  circumstances,  and 
the  fancied  coldness  of  friend  and  acquaintance, 
he  was  hard  at  work  in  the  heart  of  the  Ken- 
tucky mountains. 

The  transition  from  the  careless  life  of  a  stu- 
dent was  swift  and  bitter ;  it  was  like  beginning 
a  new  life  with  a  new  identity,  though  Clayton 
sutifered  less  than  he  anticipated.  He  had  be- 
come interested  from  the  first.  There  was 
nothing  in  the  pretty  glen,  when  he  came,  but  a 
mountaineer's  cabin  and  a  few  gnarled  old 
apple-trees,  the  roots  of  which  checked  the  mu- 
sical flow  of  a  litde  stream.  Then  the  air  was 
filled  with  the  tense  ring  of  hammer  and  saw, 
the  mellow  echoes  of  axes,  and  the  shouts  of 
ox-drivers  from  the  forests,  indignant  groans 
from  the  mountains,  and  suddenly  a  little  town 
sprang  up  before  his  eyes,  and  cars  of  shining 
coal  wound  slowly  about  the  mountain-side. 

Activity  like  this  stirred  his  blood.  Busy 
from  dawn  to  dark,  he  had  no  time  to  grow 
miserable.  His  work  was  hard,  to  be  sure,  but 
it  made  rest  and  sleep  a  luxury,  and  it  had  the 
new  zest  of  independence ;  he  even  began  to 
take  in  it  no  little  pride  when  he  found  him- 
self an  essential  part  of  the  quick  growth  go- 
ing on.  When  leisure  came,  he  could  take  to 
woods  filled  with  unknown  birds,  new  forms 
of  insect  life,  and  strange  plants  and  flowers. 
With  every  day,  too,  he  was  more  deeply  stirred 
by  the  changing  beauty  of  the  mountains  — 
hidden  at  dawn  with  white  mists,  faintly  veiled 
through  the  day  with  an  atmosphere  that  made 
him  think  of  Italy,  and  enriched  by  sunsets  of 
startling  beauty.  But  strongest  of  all  was  the 
interest  he  found  in  the  odd  human  mixture 
about  him  —  the  simple,  good-natured  darkies 
who  slouched  past  him,  magnificent  in  phy- 
sique and  picturesque  with  rags ;  occasional 
foreigners  just  from  Castle  Garden,  with  the 
hope  of  the  New  World  still  in  their  faces  ;  and 
now  and  then  a  gaunt  mountaineer  stalking 
awkwardly  in  the  rear  of  this  march  toward 
civilization.  Gradually  it  had  dawned  upon 
him  that  this  last,  silent  figure,  traced  through 
Virginia,  was  closely  linked  by  blood  and  speech 
with  the  common  people  of  England,  and, 
molded  perhaps  by  the  influences  of  feudalism, 
was  still  strikingly  unchanged ;  that  now  it 
was  the  most  distinctively  national  remnant  on 
American  soil,  and  symbolized  the  develop- 
ment of  the  continent ;  and  that  with  it  must  go 
the  last  suggestions  of  the  pioneers,  with  their 
hardy  physiques,  their  speech,  their  manners 
and  customs,  their  simple  architecture  and  sim- 
ple mode  of  hfe.  It  was  soon  plain  to  him,  too, 
that  a  change  was  being  wrought  at  last  —  the 
change  of  destruction.  The  older  mountaineers, 
whose  bewildered  eyes  watched  the  noisy  signs 
of  an  unintelligible  civilization,  were  passing 
away.    Of  the  rest,  some,  sullen  and  restless, 


were  selling  their  homesteads  and  following  the 
spirit  of  their  forefathers  into  a  new  wilderness; 
others,  leaving  their  small  farms  in  adjacent 
valleys  to  go  to  ruin,  were  gaping  idly  about  the 
public  works,  caught  up  only  too  easily  by  the 
vicious  current  of  the  incoming  tide.  In  a  cen- 
tury the  mountaineers  must  be  swept  away,  and 
their  ignorance  of  the  tragic  forces  at  work 
among  them  gave  them  an  unconscious  pathos 
that  touched  Clayton  deeply. 

As  he  grew  to  know  them,  their  historical 
importance  yielded  to  a  genuine  interest  in  the 
people  themselves.  They  were  densely  igno- 
rant, to  be  sure;  but  they  were  natural,  simple, 
and  hospitable.  Their  sense  of  personal  worth 
was  high,  and  their  democracy  —  or  aristocracy, 
since  there  was  no  distinction  of  caste  —  abso- 
lute. For  generations  son  had  lived  like  father 
in  an  isolation  hardly  credible.  No  influence 
save  such  as  shook  the  nation  ever  reached 
them.  The  Mexican  war,  slavery,  and  national 
politics  of  the  first  half-century  were  still  pres- 
ent issues,  and  each  old  man  would  give  his 
rigid,  individual  opinion  sometimes  with  surpris- 
ing humor  and  force.  He  went  much  among 
them,  and  the  rugged  old  couples  whom  he 
found  in  the  cabin  porches  —  so  much  alike  at 
first  —  quickly  became  distinct  with  a  quaint 
individuality.  Among  young  or  old,  however, 
he  had  found  nothing  hke  the  half-wild  young 
creature  he  had  met  on  the  mountain  that  day. 
In  her  a  type  had  crossed  his  path  —  had  driven 
him  from  it,  in  truth  —  that  seemed  unique  and 
inexplicable.  He  had  been  Httle  more  than 
amused  at  first,  but  a  keen  interest  had  been 
growing  in  him  with  every  thought  of  her,  and 
to-night,  as  he  laid  aside  his  pencil,  the  inci- 
dents of  the  encounter  on  the  mountain  came 
minutely  back  to  him  till  he  saw  her  again  as 
she  rode  away,  her  supple  figure  swaying  with 
every  movement  of  the  beast,  and  dappled  with 
quivering  circles  of  sunlight  from  the  bushes, 
her  face  calm,  but  still  flushed  with  color,  and 
her  yellow  hair  shaking  about  her  shoulders  — 
not  lusterless  and  flaxen,  as  hair  was  in  the 
mountains,  he  remembered,  but  catching  the 
sunlight  like  gold.  There  was  an  indefinable 
charm  about  the  girl.  She  gave  a  new  and 
sudden  zest  to  his  interest  in  mountain  life.  She 
filled  a  lack  unnoticed  before,  and  he  made  up 
his  mind  to  see  her  again  as  soon  as  possible. 

As  he  leaned  almost  unconsciously  from  his 
window  to  lift  his  eyes  to  the  dark  mountain  he 
had  climbed  that  day,  the  rude  melody  of  an 
old-fashioned  hymn  came  faintly  up  the  glen, 
and  he  recognized  the  thin,  quavering  voice  of 
an  old  mountaineer.  Uncle  Tommy  Brooks, 
as  he  was  familiarly  known,  whose  cabin  stood 
in  the  midst  of  the  camp,  a  pathetic  contrast 
to  the  smart  new  houses  that  had  sprung  up 
around  it.     The  old  man  had  lived  in  the  glen 


764 


A   MOUNTAIN  EUROPA. 


for  nearly  three  quarters  of  a  centur)^,  and  he,  if 
any  one,  must  know  the  girl.  With  the  thought, 
Clayton  sprang  through  the  window,  and  a  few 
minutes  later  was  at  the  cabin.  The  old  man 
sat  whittling  in  the  porch,  joining  in  the  song 
with  which  his  wife  was  crooning  a  child  to 
sleep  within.  Clayton  easily  identified  Europa, 
as  he  had  christened  her ;  the  simple  mention 
of  her  means  of  transport  was  sufficient. 

"  Ridin'  a  bull,  was  she  ?  "  repeated  the  old 
man,  laughing.  "  Well,  thet  was  Easter  Hicks, 
old  Bill  Hicks's  gal.  She  's  a  sort  o'  connec- 
tion o'  mine.  Me  and  Bill  merried  cousins. 
She  's  a  cur'us  critter  ez  ever  I  seed.  She  don' 
seem  ter  take  atter  her  dad  nur  her  mammy 
nuther,  though  Bill  alius  hed  a  quar  streak  in 
'im,  and  was  the  wust  man  I  ever  seed  when 
he  was  disguised  by  licker.  Whar  does  she 
live?  Oh,  up  thar,  right  on  top  o'  Wolf 
Mountain,  with  her  mammy." 

"  Alone?  " 

"Yes;  fer  her  dad  ain't  thar.  No;  'n'  he  ain't 
dead.  I  '11  tell  ye,"  —  the  old  man  lowered  his 
tone, —  "thar  used  ter  be  a  big  lot  o'  moon- 
shinin'  done  in  these  parts,  'n'  a'  off'cer  came  in 
hyar  ter  see  'bout  it.  Well,  one  momin'  he  was 
found  layin'  in  the  road  with  a  bullet  through 
him.  Bill  was  s'pected.  I  ain't  a-sayin'  ez  Bill 
did  it,  but  when  a  whole  lot  more  rode  up  thar 
on  horses  one  night,  they  did  n't  find  Bill.  They 
hain't  found  him  yit,  fer  he  's  out  in  the  moun- 
tains somewhar  a-hidin'." 

"  How  do  they  get  along  without  him  ?  " 
asked  Clayton. 

"  Why,  ther  gal  does  the  work.  She  plows 
with  thet  bull,  and  does  the  plantin' herself.  She 
kin  chop  wood  like  a  man.  'N'  ez  fer  shootin', 
well,  when  huntin'  's  good  'n'  thar  's  shootin'- 
matches  roundabout,  she  don't  hev  ter  buy 
much  meat." 

"  It 's  a  wonder  some  young  fellow  has  n't 
married  her.  I  suppose,  though,  she  's  too 
young." 

The  old  man  laughed.  "  Thar  's  been  many 
a  lively  young  feller  thet 's  tried  it,  but  she  's  ez 
hard  to  ketch  ez  a  wildcat.  She  won't  hev 
nuthin'  to  do  with  other  folks,  'n'  she  never 
comes  down  hyar  inter  the  valley,  'cept  ter  git 
.  her  com  ground  er  ter  shoot  er  turkey.  Sherd 
Raines  goes  up  ter  see  her,  and  folks  say  he  air 
tryin'  ter  git  her  inter  the  church.  But  the  gal 
won't  go  nigh  a  meetin'-house.  She  air  a  cur'us 
critter,"  he  concluded  emphatically,  "  shy  ez 
er  deer  till  she  air  stirred  up,  then  she  air  a 
caution ;  mighty  gentle  sometimes,  and  ag'in  ez 
stubborn  ez  a  mule." 

A  shrill  infantile  scream  came  from  within, 
and  the  old  man  paused  a  moment  to  listen. 

"  Ye  did  n't  know  I  hed  a  great-grandchild, 
did  ye?  Thet'sit  a-hollerin'.  Talk  about  Easter 
bein'  too  young  to  merry !     Why,  hits  mother 


air  two  year  younger  'n  Easter.  Come  in  and 
take  a  peep."  The  old  mountaineer  rose  and 
led  the  way  into  the  cabin.  Clayton  was  em- 
barrassed at  first.  On  one  bed  lay  a  rather 
comely  young  woman  with  a  child  by  her  side; 
on  a  chest  close  by  sat  another  with  her  lover, 
courting  in  the  most  open  and  primitive  man- 
ner. In  the  corner  an  old  grandam  dozed  with 
her  pipe,  her  withered  face  just  touched  by  the 
rim  of  the  firelight.  Near  a  rectangular  hole 
in  the  wall  which  served  the  purpose  of  a  win- 
dow stood  a  girl  whose  face,  silhouetted  against 
the  darkness,  had  in  it  a  curious  mixture  of 
childishness  and  maturity. 

"  Whar  's  ther  baby  ?  "  asked  Uncle  Tommy. 

Somebody  outside  was  admiring  it,  and  the 
young  girl  leaned  through  the  window  and  lifted 
the  infant  within. 

"  Thar  's  a  baby  fer  ye! "  exclaimed  the  old 
mountaineer,  proudly,  lifting  it  in  the  air  and 
turning  its  face  to  the  light.  But  the  child  was 
peevish  and  fretful,  and  he  handed  it  back  gently. 
Clayton  was  wondering  which  was  the  mother, 
when,  to  his  amazement,  almost  to  his  confu- 
sion, the  girl  lifted  the  child  calmly  to  her  own 
breast.  The  child  was- the  mother  of  the  child. 
She  was  barely  fifteen,  with  the  face  of  a  girl 
of  twelve,  and  her  motherly  manner  had  struck 
him  as  an  odd  contrast.  He  felt  a  thrill  of  pity 
for  the  young  mother  as  he  called  to  mind  the 
aged  young  wives  he  had  seen  who  were  hag- 
gard and  careworn  at  thirty,  and  who  still  man- 
aged to  live  to  an  old  age.  He  was  indefinably 
glad  that  Easter  had  escaped  such  a  fate.  When 
he  left  the  cabin,  the  old  man  called  after  him 
from  the  door: 

"  Thar 's  goin'  ter  be  a  shootin' -match  among 
the  boys  ter-morrer,  'n'  I  jedge  that  Easter  will 
be  on  hand.    She  alius  is." 

"  Is  that  so  ?  "  said  Clayton.  "  Well,  I  '11  look 
out  for  it." 

The  old  mountaineer  lowered  his  voice. 

"  Ye  hain't  thinkin'  about  takin'  er  wife,  air 
ye?" 

"  No,  no  !  " 

"  Well,  ef  ye  air,"  said  the  old  man,  slowly, 
"  I  'm  a-thinkin'  ye  '11  hev  ter  buck  up  ag'in' 
Sherd  Raines,  fer  ef  I  hain't  like  a  goose  a-pick- 
in'  o'  grass  by  moonshine.  Sherd  air  atter  the 
gal  fer  hisself,  not  fer  the  Lord.  Yes,"  he  con- 
tinued, after  a  short,  dry  laugh ; "  'n'  mebbe  ye  '11 
hev  ter  keep  an  eye  open  fer  old  Bill.  They 
say  thet  he  air  mighty  low  down,  'n'  kind  o' 
sorry  'n'  skeary,  fer  I  reckon  Sherd  Raines  hev 
told  him  he  hev  got  ter  pay  the  penalty  fer 
takin'  a  human  Hfe ;  but  I  would  n't  sot  much 
on  his  bein'  sorry  ef  he  was  mad  at  me  and  hed 
licker  in  him.  He  hates  furriners,  and  he  has 
a  crazy  idee  thet  they  is  all  off'cers  'n'  lookin' 
fer  him." 

"  I  don't  think  I  '11  bother  him,"  said  Clay- 


A   MOUNTAIN  EUROPA. 


765 


ton,turning  away  with  a  laugh.  "  Goodnight!" 
With  a  httle  cackle  of  incredulity,  the  old  man 
closed  the  door.  The  camp  had  sunk  now  to 
perfect  quietude ;  but  for  the  faint  notes  of  a 
banjo  far  up  the  glen,  not  a  sound  trembled  on 
the  night  air. 

The  rim  of  the  moon  was  just  visible  above 
the  mountain  on  which  Easter — what  a  pretty 
name  that  was!  —  had  flashed  upon  his  vision 
with  such  theatric  effect.  As  its  brilliant  light 
came  slowly  down  the  dark  mountain-side,  the 
mists  seemed  to  loosen  their  white  arms,  and  to 
creep  away  like  ghosts  mistaking  the  light  for 
dawn.  With  the  base  of  the  mountain  in  dense 
shadow,  its  crest,  uplifted  through  the  vapors, 
seemed  poised  in  the  air  at  a  startling  height. 
Yet  it  was  near  the  crest  that  he  had  met  her. 
Clayton  paused  a  moment,  when  he  reached 
his  door,  to  look  again.  Where  in  that  cloud- 
land  could  she  live  ?  he  wondered. 


As  the  great  bell  struck  the  hour  of  the  next 
noon,  mountaineers  with  long  rifles  across  their 
shoulders  were  already  moving  through  the 
camp.  The  glen  opened  into  a  valley,  which, 
blocked  on  the  east  by  Pine  Mountain,was  thus 
shut  in  on  every  side  by  wooded  heights.  Here 
the  marksmen  were  gathered.  All  were  moun- 
taineers, lank,  bearded  men,  coatless  for  the 
most  part,  and  dressed  in  brown  home-made 
jeans,  slouched,  formless  hats,  and  high,  coarse 
boots.  Sun  and  wind  had  tanned  their  faces  to 
sympathy,  in  color,  with  their  clothes,  which  had 
the  dun  look  of  the  soil.  They  seemed  pecu- 
liarly a  race  of  the  soil,  to  have  sprung  as 
they  were  from  the  earth,  which  had  left  indel- 
ible stains  upon  them.  All  carried  long  rifles, 
old-fashioned  and  home-made,  some  even  with 
flint-locks.  It  was  Saturday,  and  many  of  their 
wives  had  accompanied  them  to  the  camp. 
These  stood  near,  huddled  into  a  listless  group, 
with  their  faces  half  hidden  in  check  bonnets 
of  various  colors.  A  barbaric  love  of  color  was 
apparent  in  bonnet,  shawl,  and  gown,  and  sur- 
prisingly in  contrast  with  such  crudeness  of 
taste  was  a  face  when  fully  seen,  so  modest 
was  it.  The  features  were  always  delicately 
wrought,  and  softened  sometimes  by  a  look  of 
patient  suffering  almost  into  refinement. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  contestants  were 
the  people  of  the  camp,  a  few  miners  with  pipes 
lounging  on  the  ground,  and  women  and  girls, 
who  returned  the  furtive  glances  of  the  moun- 
tain women  with  stares  of  curiosity  and  low 
laughter. 

Clayton  had  been  delayed  by  his  work,  and 
the  match  was  already  going  on  when  he  reached 
the  grounds. 

"  Ye  hev  missed  some  mighty  fine  shoorin','' 


said  Uncle  Tommy  Brooks,  who  was  squatted 
on  the  ground  near  the  group  of  marksmen. 
"  Sherd 's  been  a-beatin'  everybody.  I  'm  afeard 
Easter  hain't  a-comin'.  The  match  air  almost 
over  now.  Ef  she  'd  been  here,  I  don't  think 
Sherd  would  'a'  got  the  ch'ice  parts  o'  thet  beef 
so  easy." 

"  Which  is  he  ?  "  asked  Clayton. 

"  Thet  tall  feller  thar  loadin'  his  gun." 

"  What  did  you  say  his  name  was  ?  " 

"  Sherd  Raines,  the  feller  thet  's  goin'  ter 
be  our  circuit-rider." 

He  remembered  the  peculiar  name.  So  this 
was  Easter's  lover.  Clayton  looked  at  the  young 
mountaineer,  curiously  at  first  and  then  with 
growing  interest.  His  quiet  air  of  authority 
among  his  fellows  was  like  a  birthright;  it 
seemed  assumed  and  accepted  unconsciously. 
His  face  was  smooth,  and  he  was  fuller  in  fig- 
ure than  the  rest, but  still  sinewy  andlank,  though 
not  awkward;  his  movements  were  too  quick 
and  decisive  for  that.  With  a  casual  glance 
Clayton  had  wondered  what  secret  influence 
could  have  turned  to  spiritual  things  a  man  so 
merely  animal-like  in  face  and  physique;  but 
when  the  mountaineer  thrust  back  his  hat,  an 
elemental  strength  and  a  seriousness  of  charac- 
ter were  apparent  in  the  broad,  square  brow,  the 
steady,  fearless  glow  of  the  eye,  a  certain  poise 
of  the  head, and  in  lines  around  the  strong  mouth 
and  chin  in  which  the  struggle  for  self-mastery 
had  been  traced. 

As  the  mountaineer  thrust  his  ramrod  back 
into  its  casing,  he  glanced  at  the  woods  behind 
Clayton,  and  said  something  to  his  companions. 
They,  too,  raised  their  eyes,  and  at  the  same 
moment  the  old  mountaineer  plucked  Clayton 
by  the  sleeve. 

"  Thar  comes  Easter  now." 

The  girl  had  just  emerged  from  the  edge  of 
the  forest,  and  with  a  rifle  on  one  shoulder  and 
a  bullet-pouch  and  powder-horn  swung  from 
the  other,  was  slowly  descending  the  path. 

"  Why,  how  air  ye,  Easter  ?"  cried  the  old 
man,  heartily,  as  she  approached.  "  Goin'  ter 
shoot,  air  ye?  I  'lowed  ye  would  n't  miss  this. 
Ye  air  mighty  late,  though." 

"  Oh,  I  only  wanted  er  turkey,"  said  the  girl. 

"  Well,  I  'm  a-comin'  up  ter  eat  dinner  with 
ye  ter-morrer,"  he  answered,  with  a  laugh,  "fer 
I  know  ye  '11  git  one.  Ye  air  on  hand  fer  most 
o'  the  matches  now.  Wild  turkeys  must  be 
a-gittin'  skase." 

The  girl  smiled,  showing  a  row  of  brilliant 
white  teeth  between  her  thin,  red  Hps,  and,  with- 
out answering,  moved  toward  the  group  of 
mountain  women.  Clayton  had  raised  his  hand 
to  his  hat  when  the  old  man  addressed  her,  but 
he  dropped  it  quickly  to  his  side  in  no  little  em- 
barrassment when  the  girl  carelessly  glanced 
over  him  with  no  sign  of  recognition.   Her  rifle 


766 


A   MOUNTAIN  EURO  PA. 


was  an  old  flint-lock  of  light  build,  but  nearly 
six  feet  in  length,  with  a  shade  of  rusty  tin  two 
feet  long  fastened  to  the  barrel  to  prevent 
the  sunlight  from  affecting  the  marksman's 
aim.  She  wore  a  man's  hat,  which,  with  unin- 
tentional coquetry,  was  perched  on  one  side  of 
her  head.  Her  hair  was  short,  and  fell  as  it 
pleased  about  her  neck.  She  was  barefooted, 
and  apparently  clad  in  a  single  garment,  a 
blue  homespun  gown,  gathered  loosely  at  her 
uncorseted  waist,  and  showing  the  outline  of 
the  bust  and  every  movement  of  the  tall,  supple 
form  beneath.  Her  appearance  had  quickened 
the  interest  of  the  spectators,  and  apparently 
was  a  disturbing  influence  among  the  contes- 
tants, who  were  gathered  together,  evidendy  in 
dispute.  From  their  glances  Clayton  saw  that 
Easter  was  the  subject  of  it. 

"  I  guess  they  don't  want  her  ter  shoot  — 
them  thet  hain't  won  anything,"  said  Uncle 
Tommy. 

"She  hev  come  in  late,"  Clayton  heard  one 
say,  "  'n'  she  ought  n'  ter  shoot.  Thar  hain't 
no  chance  shootin'  agi'n'  her  anyway,  'n'  I  'm 
in  favor  o'  barrin'  her  out." 

"Oh,  no;  let  her  shoot,"  —  the  voice  was 
Raines's.  "  Thar  hain't  nuthin'  but  a  few  tur- 
keys left,  'n'  ye  'd  better  bar  out  the  gun  'stid  o' 
the  gal,  anyway,  fer  thet  gun  kin  outshoot  any- 
thing in  the  mountains." 

The  girl  had  been  silently  watching  the 
group  as  if  puzzled  by  their  actions,  and  when 
Raines  spoke,  her  face  tightened  with  sudden 
decision,  and  she  strode  swiftly  toward  them  in 
time  to  overhear  the  young  mountaineer's  last 
words. 

"  So  hit 's  the  gun,  is  hit.  Sherd  Raines  ?  " 
The  crowd  turned,  and  Raines  shrank  a  little 
as  the  girl  faced  him  with  flashing  eyes.  "  So 
hit 's  the  gun,  is  hit?  Hit  is  a  good  gun,  but 
ye  ought  ter  be  ashamed  ter  take  aU  the  credit 
'way  from  me.  But  ef  you  air  so  certain  hit  's 
the  gun,"  she  continued,  "  I  '11  shoot  yourn, 
'n'  ye  kin  hev  mine  ef  I  don't  beat  ye  with  yer 
own  gun." 

"Good  fer  you,  Easter!"  shouted  the  old 
mountaineer. 

Raines  had  recovered  himself,  and  was  look- 
ing at  the  girl  seriously.  Several  of  his  compan- 
ions urged  him  aloud  to  accept  the  challenge, 
but  he  paid  no  heed  to  them.  He  seemed  to  be 
debating  the  question  with  himself,  and  a  mo- 
ment later  he  said  quietly: 

"  'N'  you  kin  hev  mine  ef  I  don't  beat  you." 

This  was  all  he  said,  but  he  kept  his  eyes 
fixed  on  the  girl's  face ;  and  when,  with  a  defi- 
ant glance,  she  turned  toward  the  mountain 
women,  he  followed  and  stopped  her. 

"  Easter,"  Clayton  heard  him  say  in  a  low, 
slow  voice,  "  I  was  tryin'  ter  git  ye  a  chance 
ter  shoot,  fer  ye  hev  been  winnin'  so  much  thet 


it  's  hard  to  git  up  a  match  when  ye  air  in 
it."  The  hard  look  on  the  girl's  face  remained 
unchanged,  and  the  mountaineer  continued 
firmly : 

"'N'  I  told  the  truth;  fer  ef  ye  pin  me 
down,  I  think  hit  is  the  gun." 

"Jes  you  wait  'n'  see,"  answered  the  girl, 
shortly,  and  Raines,  after  a  questioning  look, 
rejoined  the  group. 

"  I  won't  take  the  gun  ef  I  win  it,"  he  said 
to  them;  "but  she  air  gittin'  too  set  up  'n' 
proud,  'n'  I  'm  goin'  ter  do  my  best  ter  take  her 
down  a  bit." 

There  was  nothing  boastful  or  malicious  in 
his  manner  or  speech.  He  had  taken  the  task 
of  subduing  the  girl's  pride  from  a  sense  of  duty, 
and  nobody  doubted  that  he  would  do  it,  for 
there  were  few  marksmen  in  the  mountains  his 
equal,  and  he  would  have  the  advantage  of 
using  his  own  gun. 

"  Look  hyar,"  said  a  long,  thin  mountaineer, 
coming  up  to  the  group,  "  thar  ain't  but  one 
turkey  left,  'n'  I  'd  like  ter  know  what  we  air 
ter  shoot  at  ef  Sherd  'n'  Easter  gits  a  crack  at 
him." 

In  the  interest  of  the  match  no  one  had 
thought  of  that,  and  a  moment  of  debate  fol- 
lowed, which  Clayton  ended  by  stepping  for- 
ward. 

"  I  '11  furnish  a  turkey  for  the  rest  of  you,"  he 
said. 

The  girl  turned  when  he  spoke  and  gave  him 
a  quick  glance,  but  averted  her  eyes  instantly. 

Clayton's  offer  was  accepted,  and  the  pre- 
liminary trial  to  decide  who  should  shoot  first 
at  the  turkey  was  begun.  Every  detail  was 
watched  with  increasing  interest.  A  piece  of 
white  paper  marked  with  two  concentric  cir- 
cles was  placed  sixty  yards  away,  and  Raines 
won  with  a  bullet  in  the  inner  circle.  The  girl 
had  missed  both,  and  the  mountaineer  offered 
her  two  more  shots  to  accustom  herself  to  the 
gun.  She  accepted,  and  smiled  a  little  trium- 
phantly as  she  touched  the  outer  circle  with  one 
bullet  and  placed  the  other  almost  in  the  center. 
It  was  plain  that  the  two  were  evenly  matched, 
and  several  shouts  of  approval  came  from  the 
crowd.  The  turkey  tvas  hobbled  to  a  stake  at 
the  same  distance,  and  both  were  to  fire  at  its 
head,  with  the  privilege  of  shooting  at  fifty 
yards  if  no  rest  were  taken. 

Raines  shot  first  without  rest,  and,  as  he 
missed,  the  girl  followed  his  example.  The  tur- 
key dozed  on  in  the  sunHght,  undisturbed  by 
either.  The  mountaineer  was  vexed.  With  his 
powerful  face  set  determinedly,  he  lay  down  flat 
on  the  ground,  and,  resting  his  rifle  over  a  small 
log,  took  an  inordinately  long  and  careful  aim. 
The  rifle  cracked,  the  turkey  bobbed  its  head 
unhurt,  and  the  marksman  sprang  to  his  feet 
with  an  exclamation  of  surprise  and  chagrin. 


A   MOUNTAIN  EUROPA. 


As  he  loaded  the  gun  and  gravely  handed  it 
to  the  girl,  the  excitement  grew  intense.  The 
crowd  pressed  close.  The  stolid  faces  of  the 
mountain  women,  thrust  from  their  bonnets, 
became  almost  eager  with  interest.  Raines, 
quiet  and  composed  as  he  was,  looked  anxious. 
All  eyes  followed  every  movement  of  the  girl 
as  she  coolly  stretched  her  long,  active  fig- 
ure on  the  ground,  drew  her  dress  close  about 
her  straight,  strong  limbs,  and,  throwing  her 
yellow  hair  over  her  face  to  shade  her  eyes 
from  the  slanting  sunlight,  placed  her  cheek 
against  the  stock  of  the  gun.  A  long  suspense 
followed.  A  hush  almost  of  solemnity  fell  upon 
the  crowd. 

"Why  don't  the  gal  shoot?  "  asked  a  voice 
impatiently. 

Clayton  saw  what  the  matter  was,  and,  step- 
ping toward  her,  said  quietly,  "  You  forgot  to 
set  the  trigger." 

The  girl's  face  colored.  Again  her  eye 
glanced  along  the  barrel,  a  puff  of  smoke  flew 
from  the  gun,  and  a  shout  came  from  every  pair 
of  lips  as  the  turkey  leaped  into  the  air,  and  fell 
beating  the  ground  with  its  wings.  In  an  in- 
stant a  young  mountaineer  had  rushed  forward 
and  seized  it,  and,  after  a  glance,  dropped  it 
with  a  yell  of  triumph. 

"  Shot  plum'  through  the  eyes!  "lie  shouted, 
"  Shot  plum'  through  the  eyes!" 

The  girl  arose,  and  handed  the  gun  back  to 
Raines. 

"  Keep  hit,"  he  said  steadily.  "  Hit  's 
youm." 

"  I  don't  want  the  gun,"  she  said,  "  but  I  did 
want  thet  turkey  —  'n'  "= — a  little  tauntingly  — 
"  I  did  want  to  beat  you,  Sherd  Raines." 

The  mountaineer's  face  flushed  and  dark- 
ened, but  he  said  nothing.  He  took  no  part 
in  the  shooting  that  followed,  and  when,  after 
the  match  was  over,  the  girl,  with  her  rifle  on 
one  shoulder  and  the  turkey  over  the  other, 
turned  up  the  mountain  path,  Clayton  saw  him 
follow  her. 


A  FORTNIGHT  later  Clayton,  with  rifle  in 
hand,  took  the  same  path.  It  was  late  in  May. 
The  leafage  was  luxuriant,  and  the  mountains, 
wooded  to  the  tops,  seemed  overspread  with 
great,  shaggy  rugs  of  green.  The  woods  were 
resonant  with  song-birds,  and  the  dew  dripped 
and  sparkled  wherever  a  shaft  of  sunlight 
pierced  the  thick  leaves.  Late  violets  hid  shyly 
beneath  canopies  of  May-apple ;  bunches  of 
blue  and  of  white  anemone  nodded  from  be- 
neath fallen  trees,  and  water  ran  like  hidden 
music  everywhere.  Slowly  the  valley  and  the 
sounds  of  its  hfe  —  the  lowing  of  cattle,  the 
clatter  at  the  mines,  the  songs  of  the  negroes 
at  work  —  sank  beneath  him.    The  chorus  of 


767 

birds  dwindled  until  only  the  cool,  flute-like 
notes  of  a  wood-thrush  rose  faintly  from  be- 
low. Up  he  went,  winding  around  great  oaks, 
fallen  trunks,  loose  boulders,  and  threatening 
cliffs  until  hght  glimmered  whitely  between  the 
boles  of  the  trees.  From  a  gap  where  he  paused 
to  rest  a  bare  spot  was  visible  close  to  the 
crest  of  the  adjoining  mountain.  It  Avas  filled 
with  the  charred,  ghost-like  trunks  of  trees  that 
had  been  burned  standing.  If  a  cultivated 
field,  Clayton  thought,  Easter's  home  must  be 
near  that ;  and  he  turned  toward  it  by  a  path 
that  ran  along  the  top  of  the  mountain.  After 
a  few  hundred  yards  the  path  swerved  sharply 
through  a  dense  thicket,  and  Clayton  stopped 
in  wonder  at  the  scene  before  him. 

Some  natural  agent  had  hollowed  the  moun- 
tain, leaving  a  level  plateau  of  several  acres. 
The  earth  had  fallen  away  from  a  great  som- 
ber cliff"  of  solid  rock,  and  clinging  like  a  swal- 
low's nest  in  a  cleft  of  this  was  the  usual  rude 
cabin  of  a  mountaineer.  The  face  of  the  rock 
was  dark  with  vines,  and  the  cabin  was  pro- 
tected as  by  a  fortress.  But  one  way  of  ap- 
proach was  possible,  and  that  straight  to  the 
porch.  From  the  cliff"  the  vines  had  crept  to 
roof  and  chimney,  and  were  waving  their 
tendrils  about  a  thin,  blue  spiral  of  smoke. 
The  cabin  was  gray  and  tottering  with  age. 
Above  the  porch  the  branches  of  an  apple- 
tree  hung  leaves  that  matched  in  richness  of 
tint  the  thick  moss  on  the  rough  shingles. 
Beneath  it  an  old  woman  sat  spinning,  and 
a  hound  lay  asleep  at  her  feet.  Easter  was 
nowhere  to  be  seen,  but  her  voice  came  from 
below  him  in  a  loud  tone  of  command ;  and 
presently  she  appeared  from  behind  a  knoll, 
above  which  the  thatched  roof  of  a  stable  was 
visible,  and  slowly  ascended  the  path  to  the 
house.  She  had  evidently  just  finished  work, 
for  a  plow  stood  in  the  last  furrow  of  the 
field,  and  the  fragrance  of  freshly  turned  earth 
was  in  the  air.  On  the  porch  she  sank  weaVily 
into  a  low  chair,  and,  folding  her  hands,  looked 
away  to  the  mountains. 

Pausing  but  a  moment,  Clayton  climbed  the 
crumbhng  fence.  As  he  sprang  to  the  ground 
a  dead  twig  snapped,  and,  startled  by  the  sound, 
the  girl  began  to  rise ;  but,  giving  him  one  quick, 
sharp  look,  dropped  her  eyes  to  her  hands,  and 
remained  motionless. 

"  Good  morning,"  said  Clayton,  Hfting  his 
hat.  The  girl  did  not  raise  her  face.  The  wheel 
stopped,  and  the  spinner  turned  her  head. 

"  How  air  ye?"  she  said,  with  ready  hospi- 
tality.   "  Come  in  an'  hev  a  cheer." 

"  No,  thank  you,"  he  answered,  a  little  em- 
barrassed by  Easter's  odd  behavior.  "  May  I 
get  some  water?" 

"  Sartinly,"  said  the  old  woman,  looking  him 
over  curiously.    "  Easter,  go  git  some  fresh." 


768 


A   MOUNTAIN  EURO  PA. 


The  girl  started  to  rise,  but  Clayton,  pick- 
ing up  the  bucket,  said  quickly: 

"  Oh,  no ;  I  won't  trouble  you.  I  see  the 
spring,"  he  added,  noticing  a  tiny  stream  that 
trickled  from  a  fissure  at  the  base  of  the  cliff. 

"Who  air  thet  feller,  Easter?"  the  mother 
asked  in  a  low  voice,  when  Clayton  was  out 
of  hearing. 

"  One  o'  them  furriners  who  hev  come  into 
Injun  Creek,"  was  the  indifferent  reply. 

"  That  's  splendid  water,"  said  Clayton,  re- 
turning. "May  I  give  you  some?"  The  old 
woman  shook  her  head.  Easter's  eyes  were 
still  on  the  mountains,  and  apparently  she  had 
not  heard  him. 

"  Hit  air  good  water,"  said  the,  mother. 
"  Thet  spring  never  does  go  dry.  You  better 
come  in  and  rest  a  spell.  I  suppose  ye  air 
from  the  mines?"  she  added,  as  she  turned  to 
resume  spinning. 

"Yes,"  answered  Clayton;  and  feeling  that 
some  explanation  was  due  for  his  sudden  ar- 
rival away  up  in  that  lone  spot,  he  continued: 

"  There  is  good  hunting  around  here,  is  n't 
there  ?  " 

There  was  no  answer.  Easter  did  not  look 
toward  him,  and  the  spinning  stopped. 

"  Whut  did  you  say  ?  "  asked  the  old  woman. 

Clayton  repeated  his  question. 

"  Thar  used  ter  be  prime  huntin'  in  these 
parts  when  my  dad  cleared  off  this  spot  more  'n 
fifty  year  ago,  but  the  varmints  hev  mostly 
been  killed  out.  But  Easter  kin  tell  you  bet- 
ter 'n  I  kin,  for  she  does  all  our  huntin',  'n'  she 
kin  outshoot  'mos'  any  man  in  the  mountains." 

"  Yes;  I  saw  her  shoot  at  the  match  the  other 
day  down  at  the  mines." 

"  Did  ye  ?  " — a  smile  of  pleasure  broke  over 
the  old  woman's  face — "  whar  she  beat  Sherd 
Raines  ?  Sherd  wanted  to  mortify  her,  but  she 
mortified  him,  I  guess." 

The  girl  did  not  join  in  her  mother's  laugh, 
thdligh  the  corners  of  her  mouth  twitched 
faintly. 

"  I  like  shooting,  myself,"  said  Clayton.  "  I 
would  go  into  a  match ;  but  I  'm  afraid 
I  would  n't  have  much  chance." 

"  I  reckon  not,  with  thet  short  thing  ?  "  said 
the  old  woman,  pointing  at  his  repeating-rifle. 
"Would  ye  shoot  with  thet?" 

"  Oh,  yes,"  answered  Clayton,  smiling ;  "  it 
shoots  very  well." 

"  How  fer?" 

"  Oh,  a  long  way." 

A  huge  shadow  swept  over  the  house,  thrown 
by  a  buzzard  sailing  with  magnificent  ease 
high  above  them.  Thinking  that  he  might  dis- 
turb its  flight,  Clayton  rose  and  cocked  his  rifle. 

"  Ye  're  not  goin'  to  shoot  at  thet  ?  "  said 
the  old  woman,  grinning.  The  girl  had  looked 
toward  him  at  last,  with  a  smile  of  faint  derision. 


Clayton  took  aim  quickly  and  fired.  The 
huge  bird  sank  as  though  hit,  curved  down- 
ward, and  with  one  flap  of  his  great  wings 
sailed  on. 

"  Well,  ef  I  did  n't  think  ye  hed  hit  him ! " 
said  the  old  woman,  in  amazement.  "  Ye  kin 
shoot,  fer  a  fac'." 

Easter's  attention  was  gained  at  last.  For 
the  first  time  she  looked  straight  at  him,  and 
her  Httle  smile  of  derision  had  given  way  to  a 
look  of  mingled  curiosity  and  respect. 

"  I  expected  only  to  scare  him,"  said  Clay- 
ton.   "  The  gun  will  carry  twice  that  far." 

"  Hit 's  jest  ez  well  ye  did  n't  hit  him,"  said 
the  old  woman.  "  Hit  air  five  dollars  fine  to 
kill  a  buzzard  around  here.  I  'd  never  thought 
thet  little  thing  could  shoot." 

"  It  shoots  several  times,"  said  Clayton. 

"  Hit  does  whut  ?  " 

"  Like  a  pistol,"  he  explained,  and,  rising, 
he  directed  several  shots  in  quick  succession 
at  a  dead  tree  in  the  plowed  field.  At  each 
shot  a  puff  of  dust  came  almost  from  the  same 
spot. 

When  he  turned,  Easter  had  risen  to  her  feet 
in  astonishment,  and  the  mother  was  laughing 
long  and  loudly. 

"  Don't  ye  wish  ye  hed  a  gun  like  thet,  Eas- 
ter ?  "  she  "cried. 

Clayton  turned  quickly  to  the  girl,  and  be- 
gan explaining  the  mechanism  of  the  gun  to 
her,  without  appearing  to  notice  her  embar- 
rassment, for  she  shrank  perceptibly  when  he 
spoke  to  her. 

"  Won't  you  let  me  see  your  gun  ? "  he 
asked. 

She  brought  out  the  old  flint-lock,  and 
handed  it  to  him  almost  timidly. 

"  This  is  very  interesting,"  he  said.  "  I  never 
saw  one  like  it  before." 

"  Thar  hain't  but  one  more  jest  like  thet  in 
the  mountains,"  said  the  old  woman,  "  'n'  Eas- 
ter's got  that.    My  dad  made  'em  both." 

"  How  would  you  like  to  trade  one  for  mine, 
if  you  have  two  ?  "  said  Clayton  to  the  girl. 
"I  'U  give  you  all  my  cartridges  to  boot." 

The  girl  looked  at  her  mother  with  hesita- 
tion. Clayton  saw  that  both  wondered  what 
he  could  want  with  the  gun,  and  he  added  : 

"  I  'd  like  to  have  it  to  take  home  with  me. 
It  would  be  a  great  curiosity." 

"Well,"  said  the  mother,  "ye  kin  hev  one 
ef  ye  want  hit,  and  think  the  trade  's  fa'r." 

Clayton  insisted,  and  the  trade  was  made. 
The  old  woman  resumed  spinning.  The  girl 
took  her  seat  in  the  low  chair,  holding  her  new 
treasure  in  her  lap,  with  her  eyes  fixed  on  it, 
and  occasionally  running  one  brown  hand 
down  its  shining  barrel.  Clayton  watched  her. 
She  had  given  no  sign  whatever  that  she  had 
ever  seen  him  before,  and  yet  a  curious  change 


A  MOUNTAIN  EUROPA. 


769 


had  come  overher.  Herimperious  manner  had 
yielded  to  a  singular  reserve  and  timidity.  The 
peculiar  beauty  of  the  girl  struck  him  now  with 
unusual  force.  Her  profile  was  remarkably  reg- 
ular and  delicate ;  her  mouth  small,  resolu* , 
and  sensitive ;  heavy,  dark  lashes  shaded  her 
downcast  eyes;  and  her  brow  suggested  a  men- 
tality that  he  felt  a  strong  desire  to  test.  Her 
feet  were  small,  and  so  were  her  quick,  nervous 
hands,  which  were  still  finely  shaped,  in  spite 
of  the  hard  usage  that  had  left  them  brown  and 
callous.  He  wondered  if  she  were  really  as 
beautiful  as  she  seemed ;  if  his  standard  might 
not  have  been  affected  by  his  long  stay  in  the 
mountains;  if  her  picturesque  environment 
might  not  have  influenced  his  judgment.  He 
tried  to  imagine  her  daintily  slippered,  clad  in 
white,  with  her  loose  hair  gathered  in  a  Psyche 
knot ;  or  in  evening  dress,  with  arms  and  throat 
bare  :  but  the  pictures  were  difiicult  to  make. 
He  hked  her  best  as  she  was,  in  perfect  phys- 
ical sympathy  with  the  natural  phases  about 
her,  as  much  a  part  of  them  as  tree,  plant,  or 
flower,  embodying  the  freedom,  grace,  and 
beauty  of  nature  as  well  and  as  unconsciously 
as  they.  He  questioned  whether  she  had  ever 
felt  herself  to  be  apart  from  them,  and  he  won- 
dered if  there  might  be  in  her  a  recognition  of 
her  kinship  to  them. 

She  had  lifted  her  eyes  now,  and  had  fixed 
them  with  tender  thoughtfulness  on  the  moun- 
tains. What  did  she  see  in  the  scene  before 
her,  he  wondered :  the  deep  valley,  brilliant 
with  early  sunshine;  the  magnificent  sweep 
of  wooded  slopes;  Pine  Mountain  and  the 
peak-like  Narrows,  where  through  it  the  river 
had  worn  its  patient  way;  and  the  Cumberland 
Range,  lying  like  a  cloud  against  the  horizon, 
and  bluer  and  softer  than  the  sky  above  it.  He 
longed  to  know  what  her  thoughts  were;  if 
in  them  there  might  be  a  hint  of  what  he  hoped 
to  find.  Probably  she  could  not  tell  them, 
should  he  ask  her,  so  unconscious  was  she  of 
her  mental  life,  whatever  that  might  be.  In- 
deed, she  seemed  scarcely  to  know  of  her  own 
existence ;  there  was  about  her  a  simplicity  to 
which  he  had  felt  himself  rise  only  in  the  pres- 
ence of  the  spirit  about  some  lonely  mountain- 
top  or  in  the  heart  of  deep  woods.  Her  gaze 
was  not  vacant,  not  listless,  but  the  pensive 
look  of  a  sensitive  child,  and  Clayton  fancied 
there  was  in  it  an  unconscious  love  of  the  beauty 
before  her,  and  of  its  spiritual  suggestiveness 
a  slumbering  sense,  perhaps  easily  awakened. 
Perhaps  he  might  awaken  it. 

The  drowsy  hum  of  the  spinning-wheel 
ceased  suddenly,  and  his  dream  was  shattered. 
He  wondered  how  long  they  had  sat  there  say- 
ing nothing,  and  how  long  the  silence  might 
continue.  Easter,  he  believed,  would  never  ad- 
dress him.  Even  the  temporary  intimacy  that 
Vol.  XLIV.—  100. 


the  barter  of  the  gun  had  brought  about  was 
gone.  The  girl  seemed  lost  in  unconsciousness. 
The  mother  had  gone  to  her  loom,  and  was 
humming  softly  to  herself  as  she  passed  the 
shuttle  to  and  fro.  Clayton  turned  for  an  in- 
stant to  watch  her,  and  the  rude  background, 
which  in  the  interest  of  his  speculations  he  had 
forgotten,  thrust  every  unwelcome  detail  upon 
his  attention  :  the  old  cabin,  built  of  hewn  logs, 
held  together  by  wooden  pin  and  auger-hole, 
and  shingled  with  rough  boards ;  the  dark, 
windowless  room  ;  the  unplastered  walls ;  the 
beds  with  old-fashioned  high  posts,  mattresses 
of  straw,  and  cords  instead  of  slats  ;  the  home- 
made chairs  with  straight  backs,  tipped  with 
carved  knobs ;  the  mantel  filled  with  utensils  and 
overhung  with  bunches  of  drying  herbs ;  a  lad- 
der with  half-a-dozen  smooth-worn  steps  lead- 
ing to  the  loft;  and  a  wide,  deep  fireplace  —  the 
only  suggestion  of  cheer  and  comfort  in  the 
gloomy  interior.  An  open  porch  connected  the 
single  room  with  the  kitchen.  Here,  too,  were 
suggestions  of  daily  duties.  The  mother's  face 
told  a  tale  of  hardship  and  toil,  and  there  was 
the  plow  in  the  furrow,  and  the  girl's  calloused 
hands  folded  in  her  lap.  With  a  thrill  of  com- 
passion Clayton  turned  to  her.  What  a  pity  ! 
what  a  pity !  he  thought.  Just  now  her  face 
had  the  peace  of  a  child's ;  but  when  aroused, 
an  electric  fire  burned  from  her  calm  eyes  and 
showed  the  ardent  temperament  that  really  lay 
beneath.  If  she  were  quick  and  sympathetic, — 
and  she  must  be,  he  thought, —  who  could  tell 
how  rich  and  infinite  the  development  possible 
for  her  with  this  latent  fire  properly  directed  ? 

"  You  hain't  seen  much  of  this  country,  I 
reckon.    You  hain't  been  here  afore  ?  " 

The  mother  had  broken  the  silence  at  last. 

"No,"  said  Clayton;  "but  I  like  it  very 
much." 

"  Do  ye  ?  "  she  asked  in  surprise.  "  W'hy,  I 
'lowed  you  folks  from  the  settlemints  thought 
it  mighty  scraggy  down  hyar." 

"  Oh,  no.  These  mountains  and  woods  are 
beautiful,  and  I  never  saw  loveher  beech-trees. 
The  coloring  of  their  trunks  is  so  exquisite, 
and  the  shade  is  so  fine,"  he  concluded  lamely, 
noticing  a  blank  look  on  the  old  woman's  face. 
To  his  delight  the  girl  half  turned  toward  him, 
was  listening  with  puzzled  interest. 

"  Well,"  said  the  old  woman,  "beeches  is 
beautiful  ter  me  when  they  's  mast  enough  ter 
feed  ther  hogs." 

Carried  back  to  his  train  of  speculations, 
Clayton  started  at  this  abrupt  deliverance. 
There  was  a  suspicion  of  humor  in  the  old 
woman's  tone  that  showed  an  appreciation 
of  their  different  standpoints.  It  was  lost  on 
Clayton,  however,  for  his  attention  had  been 
caught  by  the  word  "mast,"  which,  by  some 
accident,  he  had  never  heard  before. 


770 


A  MOUNTAIN  EUROPA. 


"  Mast,"  he  asked,  "  what  is  that  ?  " 

The  girl  looked  toward  him  in  amazement, 
and  burst  into  a  low,  suppressed  laugh.  Her 
mother  explained  the  word,  and  all  laughed 
heartily. 

Clayton  soon  saw  that  his  confession  of  ig- 
norance was  a  lucky  accident.  It  brought  Eas- 
ter and  himself  nearer  common  ground.  She 
felt  that  there  was  something  after  all  that  she 
could  teach  him.  She  had  been  overpowered 
by  his  politeness  and  deference  and  his  unusual 
language,  and,  not  knowing  what  they  meant, 
was  overcome  by  a  sense  of  her  inferiority. 
The  incident  gave  him  the  key  to  his  future 
conduct.  A  moment  later  she  looked  up  cov- 
ertly and,  meeting  his  eyes,  laughed  again. 
The  ice  was  broken.  He  began  to  wonder  if 
she  really  had  noticed  him  so  little  at  their  first 
meeting  as  not  to  recognize  him,  or  if  her  in- 
difference or  reserve  had  prevented*  her  from 
showing  the  recognition.  He  pulled  out  his 
note-book  and  began  sketching  rapidly,  con- 
scious that  the  girl  was  watching  him.  When 
he  finished,  he  rose,  picking  up  the  old  flint- 
lock. 

"  Won't  ye  stay  and  hev  some  dinner  ?  " 
asked  the  old  woman. 

"  No,  thank  you." 

"  Come  ag'in,"  she  said  cordially,  adding  the 
mountaineer's  farewell,  "  I  wish  ye  well." 

"Thank  you,  I  will.    Good  day." 

As  he  passed  the  girl  he  paused  a  moment 
and  dropped  the  paper  into  her  lap.  It  was  a 
rude  sketch  of  their  first  meeting,  the  bull 
coming  at  him  like  a  tornado.  The  color  came 
to  her  face,  and  when  Clayton  turned  the  cor- 
ner of  the  house  he  heard  her  laughing. 

"  What  air  ye  a-laughin'  at  ?  "  asked  the 
mother,  stopping  her  work  and  looking  around. 

For  answer  Easter  rose  and  walked  into  the 
house,  hiding  the  paper  in  her  bosom.  The 
old  woman  watched  her  narrowly. 

"  I  never  seed  ye  afeard  of  a  man  afore," 
she  said  to  herself.  "  No,  nur  so  tickled  'bout 
one,  nuther.  Well,  he  air  ez  accommodatin'  a 
feller  ez  I  ever  see,  ef  he  air  a  furriner.  But  he 
was  a  fool  to  swop  his  gun  fer  hem." 


Thereafter  Clayton  saw  the  girl  whenever 
possible.  If  she  came  to  the  camp,  he  walked 
up  the  mountain  with  her.  No  idle  day  passed 
that  he  did  not  visit  tlie  cabin,  and  it  was  not 
long  before  he  found  himself  strangely  in- 
terested. Her  beauty  and  fearlessness  had 
drawn  him  at  first ;  her  indifference  and  sto- 
lidity had  piqued  him ;  and  now  the  shyness 
that  displaced  these  was  inconsistent  and  puz- 
zling. This  he  set  himself  deliberately  at  work 
to  remove,  and  the  conscious  effort  gave  a  pe- 


culiar piquancy  to  their  intercourse.  He  had 
learned  the  secret  of  association  with  the 
mountaineers  to  be  as  little  unlike  them  as 
possible,  and  he  put  the  knowledge  into  prac- 
nce.  He  discarded  coat  and  waistcoat,  wore 
a  slouched  hat,  and  went  unshaven  for  weeks. 
He  avoided  all  conventionalities,  and  was  as 
simple  in  manner  and  speech  as  possible.  Often 
when  talking  with  Easter,  her  face  was  blankly 
unresponsive,  and  a  question  would  sometimes 
leave  her  in  confused  silence.  He  found  it  ne- 
cessary to  use  the  simplest  Anglo-Saxon  words, 
and  he  soon  fell  into  many  of  the  quaint  ex- 
pressions of  the  mountaineers  and  their  odd, 
slow  way  of  speech.  This  course  was  effective, 
and  in  time  the  shyness  wore  away  and  left 
between  them  a  comradeship  as  pleasant  as 
unique.  Sometimes  they  took  long  walks  to- 
gether on  the  mountains.  This  was  contrary 
to  mountain  etiquette,  but  they  were  remote 
even  from  the  rude  conventionalities  of  the  life 
below  them.  They  even  went  hunting  together, 
and  Easter  had  the  joy  of  a  child  when  she 
discovered  her  superiority  to  Clayton  in  wood- 
craft and  in  the  use  of  a  rifle.  If  he  could  tell 
her  the  names  of  plants  and  flowers  they  found, 
and  how  they  were  akin,  she  could  show  him 
where  they  grew.  If  he  could  teach  her  a  lit- 
tle more  about  animals  and  their  habits  than 
she  already  knew,  he  had  always  to  follow  her 
footsteps  in  the  search  for  game.  Their  fellow- 
ship was,  in  consequence,  never  more  com- 
plete than  when  they  were  roaming  the  woods. 
In  them  Easter  was  at  home,  and  her  ardent 
nature  came  to  the  surface  like  a  poetic  glow 
from  her  buoyant  health  and  beauty.  Then 
appeared  all  that  was  wayward  and  elfin-like 
in  her  character,  and  she  would  be  as  playful, 
wilful,  evanescent  as  a  wood-spirit.  Sometimes, 
when  they  were  separated,  she  would  lead  him 
into  a  ravine  by  imitating  a  squirrel  or  a  wild 
turkey,  and,  as  he  crept  noiselessly  along  with 
bated  breath  and  eyes  peering  eagerly  through 
the  tree-tops  or  the  underbrush,  she  would 
step  like  a  dryad  from  behind  some  tree  at  his 
side,  with  a  ringing  laugh  at  his  discomfiture. 
Again,  she  might  startle  him  by  running  lightly 
along  the  fallen  trunk  of  a  tree  that  lay  across 
a  torrent,  or,  in  a  freak  of  wilfulness,  would 
let  herself  down  the  bare  face  of  some  steep 
cliff.  If  he  scolded  her,  she  laughed.  If  he 
grew  angry,  she  was  serious  instantly,  and 
once  she  fell  to  weeping  and  fled  home.  He 
followed  her,  but  she  barricaded  herself  in 
her  room  in  the  loft,  and  would  not  be  coaxed 
down.  The  next  day  she  had  forgotten  that 
she  was  angry. 

Her  mother  showed  no  surprise  at  any  of 
her  moods.  Easter  was  not  like  other  "gals," 
she  said ;  she  had  always  been  "  quar,"  and 
she  reckoned  would  "  alius  be  thet  way."    She 


A  MOUNTAIN  EURO  PA. 


771 


objected  in  nowise  to  Clayton's  intimacy  \vith 
her.  The  "  furriner,"  she  told  Raines,  was  the 
only  man  who  had  ever  been  able  to  manage 
her,  and  if  she  wanted  Easter  to  do  anything 
"  ag'in'  her  will,  she  went  to  him  fust,"  a  sim- 
ple remark  that  threw  the  mountaineer  into 
deep  thoughtfulness. 

Indeed,  this  sense  of  power  that  Clayton  felt 
over  the  wilful,  passionate  creature  thrilled  him 
with  more  pleasure  than  he  would  have  been 
willing  to  admit ;  at  the  same  time  it  suggested 
to  him  a  certain  responsibility.  Why  not  make 
use  of  it,  and  a  good  use  ?  The  girl  was  per- 
haps deplorably  ignorant,  could  do  but  little 
more  than  read  and  write;  but  she  was  sus- 
ceptible of  development,  and  at  times  appa- 
rently conscious  of  the  need  of  it  and  desirous 
for  it.  Once  he  had  carried  her  a  handful  of 
\'iolets,  and  thereafter  an  old  pitcher  that  stood 
on  a  shelf  blossomed  every  day  with  wild 
flowers.  He  had  transplanted  a  vine  from  the 
woods  and  taught  her  to  train  it  over  the  porch, 
and  the  iirst  hint  of  tenderness  he  found  in  her 
nature  was  in  the  care  of  that  plant.  He  had 
taken  her  a  book  full  of  pictures  and  fashion- 
plates,  and  he  had  noticed  a  quick  and  ingeni- 
ous adoption  of  some  of  its  hints  in  her  dress. 

One  afternoon,  as  he  lay  on  his  bed  in  a 
darkened  comer  of  his  room,awoman's  shadow 
passed  across  the  wall,  returned,  and  a  moment 
later  he  saw  Easter's  face  at  the  window.  He 
had  lain  quiet,  and  watched  her  while  her  won- 
dering eyes  roved  from  one  object  to  another, 
until  they  were  fastened  with  a  long,  intent  look 
on  a  picture  that  stood  upon  a  table  near  the 
window.  He  stirred,  and  her  face  melted 
away  instantly.  A  few  days  later  he  was  sitting 
with  Easter  and  Raines  at  the  cabin.  The 
mother  was  at  the  other  end  of  the  porch, 
talking  to  a  neighbor  who  had  stopped  to  rest 
on  his  way  across  the  mountains. 

"  Easter  air  a-gittin'  high  notions,"  she  was 
saying,  "  'n'  she  air  a-spendin'  her  savin's,  'n' 
all  mine  she  kin  git  hold  of,  ter  buy  fixin's  at 
the  commissary.  She  must  hev  white  crockery, 
'n'  towels,  'n'  new-fangled  forks,  'n'  sich-like." 
A  conscious  flush  came  into  the  girl's  face,  and 
she  rose  hastily  and  went  into  the  house. 

"  I  was  afeard,"  continued  the  mother, 
"  thet  she  would  hev  her  hair  cut  short,  'n'  be 
a-fljnn'  with  ribbins,  'n'  spangled  out  like  er 
rainbow,  like  old  'Lige  Hicks's  gal,  ef  I  had  n't 
hearn  the  furriner  tell  her  it  was '  beastly.'  Thar 
hain't  no  fear  now,  fer  what  thet  furriner  don't 
like,  Easter  don't  nuther." 

For  an  instant  the  mountaineer's  eyes  had 
flashed  on  Clayton,  but  when  the  latter,  a  tri- 
fle embarrassed,  looked  up,  Raines  apparendy 
had  heard  nothing.  Easter  did  not  reappear 
until  the  mountaineer  was  gone. 

There  were  other  hopeful  signs.    Whenever 


Clayton  spoke  of  his  friends,  she  always  listened 
eagerly, and  asked  innumerable  questions  about 
them.  If  his  attention  was  caught  by  any  queer 
phrase  of  the  mountain  dialect  or  custom,  she 
was  quick  to  ask  in  return  how  he  would  say 
the  same  thing,  and  what  the  custom  was  in 
the  "  setdemints."  She  even  made  feeble  at- 
tempts to  model  her  own  speech  after  his. 

In  a  conscious  glow  that  he  imagined  was 
philanthropy,  Clayton  began  his  task  of  eleva- 
tion. She  was  not  so  ignorant  as  he  had  sup- 
posed. Apparently  she  had  been  taught  by 
somebody,  but  when  asked  by  whom,  she 
hesitated  answering,  and  he  had  taken  it  for 
granted  that  what  she  knew  she  had  puzzled 
out  alone.  He  was  astonished  by  her  quick- 
ness, her  docility,  and  the  passionate  energy 
with  which  she  worked.  Her  instant  obedience 
to  every  suggestion,  her  trust  in  every  word  he 
uttered,  made  him  acutely  and  at  times  uncom- 
fortably conscious  of  his  responsibility.  At  the 
same  time  there  was  in  the  task  something  of 
the  pleasure  that  a  young  sculptor  feels  when, 
for  the  first  time,  the  clay  begins  to  yield  obe- 
dience to  his  fingers,  and  something  of  the  de- 
light that  must  have  thrilled  Pygmalion  when 
he  saw  his  statue  tremulous  with  conscious  life. 


The  possibility  of  lifting  the  girl  above  her 
own  people,  and  of  creating  a  spirit  of  discon- 
tent that  might  embitter  her  whole  life,  had 
occurred  to  Clayton;  but  at  such  moments  the 
figure  of  Raines  came  into  the  philanthropic 
picture  forming  slowly  in  his  mind,  and  his  con- 
science was  quieted.  He  could  see  them  to- 
gether ;  the  gradual  change  that  Easter  would 
bring  about  in  him,  the  influence  of  the  two  on 
their  fellows.  The  mining-camp  grew  into  a 
town  with  a  modest  church,  having  a  cottage 
on  the  outskirts,  where  Raines  and  Easter  were 
installed.  They  stood  between  the  old  ci-\'iliza- 
tion  and  the  new,  understanding  both,  and 
protecting  the  native  strength  of  the  one  from 
the  vices  of  the  other,  and  training  it  after  more 
breadth  and  refinement.  But  Raines  and  Eas- 
ter did  not  lend  themselves  to  the  picture  so 
readily,  and  gradually  it  grew  vague  and 
shadowy,  and  the  figure  of  the  mountaineer 
was  blurred. 

Clayton  did  not  bring  harmony  to  the  two. 
At  first  he  saw  nothing  of  the  mountaineer, 
and  when  they  met  at  the  cabin  Raines  re- 
mained only  a  short  time.  If  Easter  cared  for 
him  at  all,  she  did  not  show  it.  How  he  was 
regarded  by  the  mother,  Clayton  had  learned 
long  ago,  when,  in  answer  to  one  of  his  ques- 
tions, she  had  said,  with  a  look  at  Easter,  that 
"  Raines  was  the  likeliest  young  feller  in  thet 
region";    that  "he  knew  more  'n   anybody 


772 


A   MOUNTAIN-  EURO  PA. 


round  thar " ;  that  "  he  hed  spent  a  year 
in  the  settlemints,  was  mighty  rehgious,  and 
would  one  day  be  a  circuit-rider.  Anyhow," 
she  concluded,  "  he  was  a  mighty  good  friend 
o'  theirn." 

But  as  for  Easter,  she  treated  him  with  un- 
varying indifference,  though  Clayton  noticed 
she  was  more  quiet  and  reserved  in  the  moun- 
taineer's presence;  and  what  was  unintelligible 
to  him,  she  refused  to  speak  of  her  studies  when 
Raines  was  at  the  cabin,  and  warned  her  mo- 
ther with  an  angry  frown  when  the  latter  began 
telling  the  mountaineer  of  "  whut  a  change  hed 
come  over  Easter,  and  how  she  reckoned  the 
gal  was  a-gittin'  eddicated  enough  fer  ter  teach 
anybody  in  the  mountains,  she  was  a-studyin' 
so  much." 

After  that  little  incident,  he  met  Raines  at 
the  cabin  oftener.  The  mountaineer  was  al- 
ways taciturn,  though  he  listened  closely  when 
anything  was  said,  and,  even  when  addressed 
by  Easter's  mother,  Clayton  noticed  that  his 
attention  was  fixed  on  Easter  and  himself  He 
felt  that  he  was  being  watched,  and  it  irritated 
him.  He  had  tried  to  be  friendly  with  the  moun- 
taineer, but  his  advances  were  received  with 
a  reserve  that  was  almost  suspicion.  As  time 
went  on,  the  mountaineer's  visits  increased  in 
frequency  and  in  length,  and  at  last  one  night 
he  remained  so  long  that,  for  the  first  time, 
Clayton  left  him  there. 

Neither  spoke  after  the  young  engineer  was 
gone.  The  mountaineer  sat  looking  closely  at 
Easter,  who  was  listlessly  watching  the  moon 
as  it  rose  above  the  Cumberland  Range  and 
brought  into  view  the  wavering  outline  of  Pine 
Mountain  and  the  shadowed  valley  below.  It 
was  evident  from  his  face  and  his  eyes,  which 
glowed  with  the  suppressed  fire  of  some  pow- 
erful emotion  within,  that  he  had  remained  for 
a  purpose;  and  when  he  rose  and  said,  "I 
guess  I  'd  better  be  a-goin',  Easter,"  his  voice 
was  so  unnatural  that  the  girl  looked  up 
quickly. 

"  Hit  air  late,"  she  said,  after  a  slight  pause. 

His  face  flushed,  but  he  set  his  hps  and 
grasped  the  back  of  his  chair,  as  though  to 
steady  himself. 

"  I  reckon,"  he  said,  with  slow  bitterness, 
"  thet  hit  would  'a'  been  early  ez  long  ez  the 
furriner-was  here." 

The  girl  was  roused  instantly,  but  she  said 
nothing,  and  he  continued  in  a  determined 
tone: 

"  Easter,  thar  's  a  good  deal  I  've  wanted  to 
say  to  ye  fer  a  long  time,  but  I  he  v  kept  a-puttin' 
hit  off  until  I  'm  afeard  maybe  hit  air  too  late. 
But  I  'm  a-goin'  to  say  hit  now,  and  I  want  ye 
to  listen."  He  cleared  his  throat  huskily.  "  Do 
ye  know,  Easter,  what  folks  in  the  mountains 
is  a-sayin'  ?  " 


The  girl's  quick  insight  told  her  what  was 
coming,  and  her  face  hardened. 

"  Hev  ye  ever  knowed  me.  Sherd  Raines, 
to  keer  what  folks  in  the  mountains  say?  I 
reckon  ye  mean  ez  how  they  air  a-talkin'  about 
me  ?  " 

"  Thet  's  what  I  mean,"  said  the  moun- 
taineer—  "you  'n'  him.'''' 

"  Whut  air  they  a-sayin'  ?  "  she  asked  de- 
fiantly.   Raines  watched  her  narrowly. 

"  They  air  a-sayin'  ez  how  he  air  a-comin' 
up  here  mighty  often;  ez  how  Easter  Hicks, 
who  hev  never  keered  fer  any  man,  is  in  love 
with  this  furriner  from  the  settlemints." 

The  girl  reddened,  in  spite  of  her  assumed 
indifference. 

"  They  say,  too,  ez  how  he  is  not  in  love 
with  her,  'n'  thet  somebody  ough ter  warn  Easter 
thet  he  air  not  a-meanin'  good  to  her.  Ye  hev 
been  seena-walkin'in  the  mountains  together." 

"  Who  hev  seen  me  ?  "  she  asked,  with  quick 
suspicion.    The  mountaineer  hesitated. 

"  I  hev,"  he  said  doggedly. 

The  girl's  anger,  which  had  been  kindling 
against  her  gossiping  fellows,  blazed  out  against 
Raines. 

"  Ye  hev  been  a-watchin'  me,"  she  said  an- 
grily. "  Who  hev  gin  ye  the  right  ter  do  it  ? 
What  call  hev  ye  ter  come  hyar  and  tell  me 
whut  folks  is  a-sayin'  ?  Is  it  any  o'  yer  busi- 
ness ?  I  want  to  tell  ye,  Sherd  Raines," — her 
utterance  grew  thick  with  anger, — "  thet  I  kin 
take  care  o'  myself;  thet  I  don't  keer  what  folks 
say;  'n'  I  want  ye  to  keep  away  from  me.  'N' 
ef  I  sees  ye  a-hangin'  round  'n'  a-spyin',  ye  '11 
be  sorry  fer  it."  Her  eyes  blazed,  she  had  risen 
and  drawn  her  lithe  figure  straight,  and  her 
hands  were  clenched. 

The  mountaineer  had  stood  motionless. 
"  Thar  's  another  who  hez  seen  ye,"  he  said 
quietly — "up  thar,"  pointing  to  a  wooded 
mountain  the  top  of  which  was  lost  in  mist.  The 
girl's  attitude  changed  instantly  into  vague 
alarm,  and  her  eyes  flashed  upon  Raines  as 
though  they  would  sear  their  way  into  the  mean- 
ing hidden  in  his  quiet  face.  Gradually  his 
motive  seemed  to  become  clear,  and  she  ad- 
vanced a  step  toward  him. 

"  So  ye  hev  found  out  whar  dad  is  a-hidin'  ?  " 
she  said,  her  voice  tremulous  with  rage  and 
scorn.  "  'N'  ye  air  mean  and  sorry  enough  to 
come  hyar  'n'  tell  me  ye  '11  give  him  up  to  the 
law  ef  I  don't  knuckle  down  'n'  do  whatever 
ye  wants  me  ?  " 

She  paused  a  moment.  Was  her  suspicion 
correct  ?  Why  did  he  not  speak  ?  She  did  not 
really  believe  what  she  said.  Could  it  be  true  ? 
Her  nostrils  quivered;  she  tried  to  speak  again, 
but  her  voice  was  choked  with  passion.  With 
a  sudden  movement  she  snatched  her  rifle  from 
its  place,  and  the  steel  flashed  in  the  moonhght 


A  MOUNTAIN  EUROPA. 


773 


and  ceased  in  a  shining  line  straight  at  the  moun- 
taineer's breast. 

"  Look  hyar,  Sherd  Raines,"  she  said  in  low, 
unsteady  tones,  "  I  know  ye  air  religious,  'n'  I 
know  ez  how,  when  ye  hev  gin  yer  word,  ye 
will  do  what  you  say.  Now,  I  want  ye  to  hold 
up  yer  right  hand  and  sw'ar  that  ye  '11  never 
tell  a  livin'  soul  thet  you  know  whar  dad  is 
a-hidin'." 

Raines  did  not  turn  his  face,  which  was  as 
emotionless  as  stone. 

"  Air  ye  a-goin'  ter  sw'ar  ?  "  she  asked,  with 
fierce  impatience.  Without  looking  at  her,  he 
began  to  speak  —  very  slowly: 

"  Do  ye  think  I  'm  fool  enough  to  try  to  gain 
yer  good  will  by  a-tellin'  on  yer  dad  ?  We  were 
on  the  mountains,  him  'n'  me,  'n'  we  saw 
ye  'n'  the  furriner.  Yer  dad  thought  hit  was 
a'  officer,  'n'  he  whipped  up  his  gun  'n'  would 
'a'  shot  him  dead  in  his  tracks  ef  I  had  n't  hin- 
dered him.  Does  thet  look  hke  I  wanted  ter 
hurt  ther  furriner  ?  I  hev  knowed  yer  dad  was 
up  in  the  mountains  all  the  time,  'n'  I  hev  been 
a-totin'  things  fer  him  ter  eat.  Does  thet  look 
like  I  wanted  ter  hand  him  over  ter  the  law  ?  " 

The  girl  had  let  the  rifle  fall,  and,  moving 
away,  stood  leaning  on  it  in  the  shadow,  with 
her  face  downcast. 

"  Ye  hev  wanted  ter  know  what  call  I  hev 
ter  watch  ye,  'n'  see  thet  no  harm  comes  to  ye. 
Yer  dad  hev  gin  me  the  right.  Ye  know  how 
he  hates  furriners,  'n'  whut  he  would  do  ef  he 
should  run  across  this  furriner  atter  he  hez 
been  drinkin'.  I  'm  a-meddlin'  because  I  hev 
told  him  thet  I  am  goin'  ter  take  keer  o'  ye, 
'n'  I  mean  ter  do  it — ef  ye  hates  me  fer  it. 
I  'm  a-watchin'  ye,  Easter,"  he  continued,  "  'n' 
I  want  ye  ter  know  it.  I  knowed  the  furriner 
begin  comin'  here  because  ye  air  not  like  gals 
in  the  settlemints.  Ye  air  as  cur'us  to  him 
as  one  o'  them  bugs  an'  sich-hke  thet  he  's  al- 
ways a-pickin'  up  in  the  woods.  I  hev  n't  said 
nuthin'  ter  yer  dad,  fer  fear  o'  his  harmin'  the 
furriner;  but  I  hev  seen  thet  ye  like  him,  an' 
hit 's  time  now  fer  me  ter  meddle.  Ef  he  was  in 
love  with  ye,  do  ye  think  he  would  marry  ye  ? 
I  hev  been  in  the  settlemints.  Folks  thar  air  not 
ez  we  citizens  air.  They  air  bigoted  'n'  high- 
heeled,  'n'  they  look  down  on  us.  I  tell  ye,  too,  'n' 
hit  air  fer  yer  own  good,  he  air  in  love  with 
somebody  in  the  settlemints.  I  hev  hearn  it,  'n' 
I  hev  seen  him  a-lookin'  at  a  picter  in  his  room 
ez  a  man  don't  look  at  his  mother  nur  his  sister. 
They  say  hit 's  her. 

"  Thar  's  one  thing  more,  Easter,"  he  con- 
cluded, as  he  stepped  from  the  porch.  "  He  is 
a-goin'  away.  I  heard  him  say  it  yestiddy.  What 
will  ye  do  when  he 's  gone  ef  ye  lets  yerself  think 
so  much  of  him  now  ?  I  hev  warned  ye  now, 
Easter,  fer  yer  own  good,  though  ye  mought 
think  thet  I  'm  a-workin'  fer  myself  But  I  know 
Vol.  XLIV,— ioi. 


I  hev  done  my  duty.   I  hev  warned  ye,  'n'  ye  kin 
do  whut  ye  please,  but  I  'm  a-watchin'  ye." 

The  girl  said  nothing,  but  stood  as  rigid  as 
a  statue,  with  eyes  wide  open  and  face  tense  and 
white,  as  the  mountaineer's  steps  died  away. 
She  was  bewildered  by  the  confused  emotions 
that  swayed  her.  Why  had  she  not  indignantly 
denied  that  she  was  in  love  with  the  "  furriner  "  ? 


ENGRAVED   BY  . 
THE     OLD     WOMAN. 


Raines  had  not  hinted  it  as  a  suspicion.  He 
had  spoken  it  outright  as  a  fact,  and  he  must 
have  thought  that  her  silence  confirmed  it.  He 
had  said  that  the  "furriner"  cared  nothing  for 
her,  and  had  dared  to  tell  her  that  she  was 
in  love  with  him.  Her  cheeks  began  to  burn. 
She  would  call  him  back  and  tell  him  that  she 
cared  no  more  for  the  "  furriner  "  than  she  did  for 
him.  With  a  quick  movement  she  threw  the 
rifle  to  its  place,  but  paused,  straining  her  eyes 
through  the  darkness.  It  was  too  late,  and,  with 
a  helpless  little  cry,  she  began  pacing  the  porch. 
She  had  scarcely  heard  what  was  said  after  the 
mountaineer's  first  accusation,  so  completely 
had  that  enthralled  her  mind;  but  now  frag- 
ments came  back  to  her.  There  was  something 
about  a  picture  —  ah!  she  remembered  that  pic- 
ture. Passing  through  the  camp  one  afternoon, 
she  had  glanced  in  at  a  window  and  had  seen  a 
rifle  once  her  own.  Turning  in  rapid  wonder 
about  the  room,  her  eye  lighted  upon  a  picture 
on  a  table  near  the  window.  She  had  felt  the  re- 
fined beauty  of  the  girl,  and  it  had  impressed  her 
with  the  same  timidity  that  Clayton  did  when 
she  first  knew  him.  Fascinated,  she  had  looked 
till  a  movement  in  the  room  made  her  shrink 
away.  But  the  face  had  clung  in  her  memory 
ever  since,  and  now  it  came  before  her  vividly. 


774 


A   MOUNTAIN  EURO  PA. 


Clayton  was  in  love  with  her.    Well,  what  did 
that  matter  to  her  ? 

There  was  more  that  Raines  said.  "  Goin' 
away  " — she  recalled  these  words  too.  Raines 
meant  the  "  furriner,"  of  course.  How  did  he 
know  ?  Why  had  Clayton  not  told  her  ?  She 
did  not  believe  it.  But  why  not  ?  He  had  told 
her  that  he  would  go  away  some  time,  and  why 
not  now  ?  But  why  —  why  did  not  Clayton  tell 
her  ?  Perhaps  he  was  going  to  her.  She  almost 
stretched  out  her  hands  in  a  sudden,  fierce  de- 
sire to  clutch  the  round  throat  and  sink  her 
nails  into  the  soft  flesh  that  rose  before  her 
mind.  She  had  forgotten  that  he  had  ever  told 
her  that  he  must  go  away,  so  little  had  it  im- 
pressed her  at  the  time,  and  she  had  never 
thought  of  a  possible  change  in  their  relations 
or  in  their  lives.  She  tried  to  think  what  her 
life  would  be  after  he  was  gone,  and  she  was 
frightened ;  she  could  not  imagine  her  old  life 
resumed.  When  Clayton  came,it  was  as  though 
she  had  risen  from  sleep  in  a  dream  and  had 
lived  in  it  thereafter  without  questioning  its  re- 


ality. Into  his  hands  she  had  delivered  her  life 
and  herself  with  the  undoubting  faith  of  a  child. 
She  had  never  thought  of  their  relations  at  all. 
Now  the  awakening  had  come.  The  dream 
was  shattered.  For  the  first  time  her  eye  was 
turned  inward,  where  a  flood  of  light  brought 
into  terrible  distinctness  the  tumult  that  began 
to  rage  so  suddenly  within. 

One  hope  flashed  into  her  brain — perhaps 
Raines  was  mistaken.  But  no,  the  mountain- 
eer would  never  lie.  But  even  if  he  were 
mistaken,  Clayton  must  go  some  time;  even 
he  had  told  her  that.  In  the  recognition  of 
this  fact  every  thought  became  centered.  It 
was  no  longer  how  he  came,  the  richness  of  the 
new  life  he  had  shown  her,  the  barrenness  of 
the  old,  Raines's  accusation,  the  shame  of  it  — 
the  shame  of  being  pointed  out  and  laughed 
at  after  Clayton's  departure ;  it  was  no  longer 
wonder  at  the  strange,  fierce  emotions  racking 
her  brain  and  heart  for  the  first  time:  her 
whole  being  was  absorbed  in  the  recognition 
which  slowly  forced  itself  into  her  brain  and 


A   BACHELOR'S   COUNSELINGS. 


775 


took  possession  of  it  —  some  day  he  must  go 
away ;  some  day  she  must  lose  him.  She  could 
not  realize  it.  She  lifted  her  hands  to  her  head 
in  a  dazed,  ineffectual  way.  The  moonlight 
grew  faint  before  her  eyes ;  mountain,  sky,  and 
mist  were  indistinguishably  blurred ;  and  the 
girl  sank  down  slowly  upon  her  trembling  knees, 
down  till  she  lay  crouched  on  the  floor  with 
her  white,  tearless  face  buried  in  her  arms. 

The  moon  rose  high  above  her  and  sank  down 
in  the  west.  The  shadows  shortened  and  crept 
back  to  the  woods,  night  noises  grew  fainter, 

(To  be  CO 


and  the  mists  floated  up  from  the  valley  and 
clung  around  the  mountain-tops;  but  she  stirred 
only  when  a  querulous  voice  came  from  within 
the  cabin. 

"  Easter,"  it  said,  "  ef  Sherd  Raines  air  gone, 
ye  hed  better  come  in  ter  bed.  Ye  hev  got  a 
lot  o'  work  ter  do  ter-morrer." 

The  voice  called  her  to  the  homely  duties 
that  had  once  filled  her  hfe  and  must  fill  it  again. 
It  was  a  summons  to  begin  anew  a  life  that  was 
dead,  and  the  girl  lifted  her  haggard  face  in 
answer  and  rose  wearily, 
nciuded.)  John  Fox,  Jr. 


A    BACHELOR'S    COUNSELINGS. 

By  Richard  Malcolm  Johnston. 

with  pictures  by  e.  w.  kemble. 

"  The  meek  will  he  guide  in  judgment." 


URIOUS  is  the  inequality  often 
noticed  in  human  friendships. 
Indeed,  as  a  rule,  the  most  de- 
voted seem  to  exist  between 
unequals,  superiors  submitting 
complacently  to  be  loved,  in- 
dulged, and  waited  on,  inferiors  content  to 
submit  and  serve,  sometimes  even  thankful  to 
do  so.  How  uncomplainingly  Theseus  ac- 
cepted the  love  and  sacrifices  of  Pirithoiis ! 
How  touching  to  David  the  devotion  of  Jona- 
than, "  passing  the  love  of  women  "  ! 

Of  a  kind  similar,  although  upon  a  lower 
plane,  were  the  loves  of  Jones  Kindrick,  the 
greater,  and  Simeon  Newsome,  the  less.  Four 
miles  south  of  our  village,  at  the  crossing  of  the 
county-seat  road  by  one  leading  from  the  west 
toward  Ivy's  Bridge  on  the  Ogeechee  River, 
dwelt  the  Newsomes.  Their  large  square  man- 
sion kept  within  plenty  of  good  things  for  their 
enjoyment,  and  that  of  others  who  came  there 
with  or  without  special  invitation.  A  mile  and 
a  half  east,  near  the  road  last  mentioned,  in  a 
dwelling  somewhat  smaller  but  whiter,  lived 
the  Kindricks.  The  heads  of  these  famiHes  had 
died  some  years  before,  and  their  widows, 
who  were  cousins,  had  been  managing  the 
estates  well  during  the  time  it  took  the  boys 
to  grow  old  enough  for  such  responsibilities. 
As  for  Sim  (nobody  except  his  mother  ever 
called  him  Simeon),  as  long  as  he  had  been  any 
thing,  he  had  been  as  steady  as  any  clock.  He 
seldom  laughed,  except  when  politeness  so  re- 
quired.  Not  that  he  was  morose  ;  it  was  only 


that  he  rarely  saw  or  heard  things  which  to 
him  seemed  worthy  of  laughing  about.  He 
had  tried  to  take  to  schooling  with  the  fond- 
ness desired  by  his  parents,  but  while  in  the 
midst  of  demonstrative  and  other  adjective 
pronouns  in  the  forenoons,  and  of  tare  and 
tret  and  the  double  rule  of  three  in  the  after- 
noons, not  seeing  his  way  clear,  he  pleaded  fa- 
tigue, after  such  fruitless  endeavors,  and  begged 
of  his  father  to  be  let  go  to  plowing. 

A  set-ofif  to  Sim's  humility  was  the  pride  he 
felt  in  the  abilities  of  his  cousin  Jones,  a  year 
older  than  himself.  This  had  been  going  on 
from  childhood  until  now,  when  each  had 
reached  his  majority.  While  at  school  Sim 
was  looked  upon  as  better  than  Jones  in  little 
things  like  spelling  and  reading,  for  which 
Jones  expressed  contempt  that  had  much  in- 
fluence upon  Sim's  imagination  of  his  great- 
ness. This  was  exalted  higher  when  Sim  broke 
down,  and  Jones,  misliking  the  plow  with  which 
he  had  been  threatened,  dashed  forward,  and 
got  along  whether  or  no,  cajoHng  where  he 
could  not  delay  to  conquer,  hopping  over  where 
he  could  not  cajole,  or,  with  connivance  of  the 
master  (who  liked  not  to  lose  a  good-paying 
scholar),  slipped  through  behind  others  who 
had  opened  the  way  for  themselves,  and  al- 
ways looked  and  talked  like  one  who  was 
moving  from  victory  to  victory.  In  time  he 
had  acquired  a  stock  of  words,  many  of  them 
new,  which  filled  Sim  with  admiration  not  less 
fond  than  awful.  Of  middle  height,  brown, 
brawny,  solemn-faced,  he  never  felt  a  pulsation 
of  envy  when  he  looked  at  the  tall,  slender, 
fair,  ever-smiling  Jones. 


776 


A   BACHELOR'S   COUNSELINGS. 


It  went  on  thus  after  tliey  had  taken  control 
of  the  plantations.  Sim's  sense  of  inferiority 
ought  to  have  subsided  when  it  appeared  how 
much  better  he  understood  and  conducted  bus- 
iness; but  knowing  that  the  soul  of  Jones  was 
too  high  to  let  itself  be  entirely  engrossed  in 
mere  agriculture,  he  was  pleased  when  the  lat- 
ter from  time  to  time  let  him  offer  counsel  — 
and  followed  it. 

For  a  time  Jones  had  been  circulating  him- 
self and  his  vocabulary  among  the  girls,  and 
his  mother  and  his  sister  Maria,  the  latter  two 
years  older  than  himself,  plain  of  feature,  sen- 
sible of  mind,  and  industrious  of  body,  wished 
that  he  would  get  married  and  settle  down  to 
steady  work.  He  let  them  urge,  and  answered 
that  his  matrimonial  cogitations  had  not  yet 
come  to  a  head. 

"Yes,"  said  his  mother  one  day,  "you  think 
you  must  be  a  mighty  picker  and  chooser ;  and 
if  you  don't  look  out,  you  '11  go  clean  through 
the  woods  and  then  have  to  be  satisfied  with 
a  crooked  stick.  If  you  only  knew  it,  S'phrony 
Miller  is  the  girl  for  you  —  that  is,  if  you  could 
get  her." 

"  As  for  the  ability  of  sophisticating  S'phrony 
Miller  into  the  chains  of  mattermony,  ma,  I  — 
no;  perhaps  I  ought  n't  to  use  the  words." 

"  I  would  n't  if  I  were  in  your  place,"  said 
Miss  Maria.  "  It  would  be  a  good  thing  for 
you  to  get  S'phrony,  if  you  could.  If  you  'd 
marry,  Cousin  Sim  would.  I  really  beHeve  he 's 
waiting  to  see  when  you  are  going  to  settle 
before  starting  out  himself,  intending  to  keep 
himself  entirely  out  of  your  way." 

"Sim!  He  's  a  dear  good  fellow,  is  n't  he? 
I  wish  Sim  had  a  better  gift  of  languages; 
but  —  oh,  old  Sim  will  get  on  well  enough,  I 
hope.  As  for  me  and  myself,  you  and  ma,  and, 
I  may  say,  all  other  ladies,  ha !  ha  !  will  have 
to  wait  till  my  mind  comes  to  judgment." 

"  I  'id.y  judgment!  "  retorted  his  mother,  prob- 
ably not  knowing  herself  precisely  all  that  she 
intended  to  convey  by  the  remark. 

It  was  different  with  Sim.  Having  reached 
manhood  safely,  soundly,  and  honorably,  it  be- 
gan to  occur  to  him  that  it  might  be  a  good 
thing  to  get  a  wife.  At  first  there  was  no  eager- 
ness in  the  notion.  He  had  been  too  busy  to  go 
about  much,  and  it  was  only  when  riding  to 
Horeb  meeting-house  and  back  again, —  some- 
times perhaps  during  a  long  sermon  within, — 
that  he  had  begun  to  throw,  with  moderately 
heightened  interest,  speculative  eyes  among 
the  pretty  girls  who  were  there  in  such  profu- 
sion. Then  his  observations  of  the  life  led  by 
Mr.  Billy  Downs,  the  most  respectable  old 
bachelor  among  his  acquaintances,  backed  by 
numerous  kind  admonitions  bestowed  upon 
him  by  the  latter,  were  leading  gradually  to 
the  decision  that,  on  the  whole,  married  life  was 


preferable  to  single,  when  one  took  the  pains 
to  study  their  several  promises  of  results,  gen- 
eral and  special. 


Now  when,with  this  thought  on  his  mind,  Sim 
next  went  to  the  Millers',whose  place  j  oined  both 
the  Newsomes'  and  the  Kindricks',  and  looked 
at  S'phrony  from  his  new  point  of  view,  he  felt 
that  he  was  content  to  rest  there.  S'phrony, 
who  was  a  tall,  rather  blonde,  pensivish,  sweet- 
looking  girl,  and  her  young  sister  were  the  only 
offspring  of  their  parents.  Their  dwelling  was 
yet  smaller  than  the  Kindricks',  but  whiter, 
and  more  shrubbery  was  in  the  yard  than  in 
both  the  other  places  put  together.  If  the  plan- 
tation had  less  acreage,  the  land  was  fresher, 
and  it  would  not  have  been  easy  to  say  of  the 
two  sides,  one  adjoining  the  Newsomes',  and 
the  other  the  Kindricks',  which  was  the  better. 

When  S'phrony  noticed  that  the  remarks 
lately  made  by  Sim  at  the  house,  although  not 
numerous,  seemed  to  have  been  intended  mainly 
for  herself,  she  felt  the  interest  usually  rising  on 
such  occasions,  and  from  that  time  her  talk,  the 
way  she  dressed,  the  increased  perfume  of  flow- 
ers, and  one  thing  and  another  about  the  room, 
the  non-appearing  of  her  sister  and  parents 
when  he  called,  all  tended  to  confirm  him  in  the 
thought  that  he  was  attempting  what,  if  suc- 
cessful, would  be  a  good  and  sensible  thing. 

Mr.  Billy  Downs,  between  whom  and  himself 
was  an  intimacy  which,  on  the  part  of  the  for- 
mer, was  warmly  fond,  urged  him  to  be  as  quiet 
as  possible,  but  correspondingly  speedy.  The 
reasons  for  his  advice  he  had  sufficient  grounds 
for  not  fully  disclosing.  Yet  Sim's  instincts  con- 
vinced him  that  it  was  good,  and  at  his  fourth 
visit  he  was  not  far  from  putting  to  S'phrony 
a  question  as  pointed  as  he  knew  how  to  frame 
it.  He  fully  resolved  that  he  would  do  so  at  the 
next,  and  but  for  one  thing  this  would  have  been 
done.  That  thing — not  meaning,  by  use  of 
such  a  word,  to  be  openly  offensive  to  his  mem- 
ory—  was  Jones  Kindrick.  For — don't  you 
know?  —  no  sooner  had  he  found  that  Sim 
was  going  to  the  Millers'  in  suspicious  cir- 
cumstances, than  he  went  to  running  there 
himself.  More  than  that,  he  made  it  his  busi- 
ness to  come  over  to  the  Newsomes',  and,  not 
finding  Sim  at  the  house,  to  follow  him  out  to 
the  very  field  where  Sim  was  overseeing  the 
hands.  When  he  found  him,  thousands  upon 
thousands  of  words  were  used  by  him,  of 
which  I  shall  here  put  down  a  few : 

"  Ma  and  sister  Maria  have  been  for  some 
time  past  specified.  They  have  both  been  go- 
ing on  to  me  about  S'phrony  Miller  in  a  way 
and  to  an  extent  that  in  some  circumstances 
might  be  called  even  obstropulous ;  and  to 
quiet  their  conscience,  I  've  begun  a  kind  of  a 


A   BACHELOR'S   COUNSELINGS. 


777 


MR.    BILLY    DOWNS. 


visitation  over  there,  and  my  mind  has  arriv 
at  the  conclusion  that  she  's  a  good,  nice  piece 
of  flesh,  to  use  the  expressions  of  a  man  of  the 
world  and  society.  What  do  you  think,  Sim, 
of  the  matter  under  consideration,  and  what 
would  you  advise,  as  I  like  to  have  your  ad- 
vice sometimes,  and  I  'd  like  to  know  what  it 
would  be  under  all  the  circumstances  and  ap- 
purtenances of  a  case  which,  as  it  stands,  it 
seems  to  have,  and  it  is  n't  worth  while  to  con- 
ceal the  fact  that  it  does  have,  a  tremenduous 
amount  of  immense  responsibility  to  all  parties, 
especially  to  the  undersigned,  referring,  as  is 
well  known  in  books  and  newspaper  advertise- 
ments, to  myself.  What  would  you  say  to  the 
above,  Sim,  in  all  its  parts  and  parties?" 

It  was  fortunate  for  Sim  that  his  hopes  had 
not  been  lifted  so  high  that  their  sudden  fall 
would  be  too  extremely  painful.  Through  the 
hints  of  Mr.  Downs  he  had  been  feeling  some 
apprehension  as  to  what  Jones  might  do  when 
he  heard  of  his  visits  to  S'phrony,  and  he  held 
his  feelings  in  restraint.  He  now  drew  a  long 
breath,  the  significance  of  which  was  lost  upon 
his  cousin;  then  answered: 

"I  did  n't  —  that  is,  I  never  quite  got  all 
your  languages,  Jones;  but  my  opinion  of 
S'phrony  is,  that  she  's  the  equil  of — I  may 
say  —  yes,  of  any  of 'em.    Ahem!" 

"  Your  advice  then,  Sim,  is  not  to  the  con- 
trary, in  all  the  circumstances  ?  " 


"  You  mean  —  is  it  your  meaning  to  the 
courting  of  S'phrony,  Jones?" 

"  You  may  say  words  to  that  effect,  for  the 
sake  of  the  whole  argyment." 

"  My  advice,"  answered  Sim,  after  swallow- 
ing the  air  that  had  accumulated  in  his  mouth 
—  "my  advice  would  be  to  any'hoAy  —  that 
is,  I  mean  any  marryiii'  man — that  tvantcd 
S'phrony,  if  I  was  asked  for  my  advice,  I  should 
give  it  to  git  S'phrony  if  he  can.  I  have  no 
hizitation  about  that,  nor  not  a  doubt." 

"  Of  course,  Sim,  in  an  affair  magnified  as 
we  are  on  now,  your  opinion  is  worth  more 
than  ma's  and  sister  Maria's  both  put  together, 
although  it  's  a  satisfaction  that,  as  the  case 
now  stands,  you  colide  with  'em  perfect.  I 
have  not  yet  represented  to  S'phrony  any  open 
remarks ;  but  I  have  insinooated  a  few  pleas- 
ant words  to  her,  and  her  looks  on  those  oc- 
casions were  that  she  were  expecting  more  of 
the  same  sort;  and  now,  since  I  've  had  this 
highly  interesting  conversation  with  you,  I 
rather  think  I  shall  govern  myself  according. 
Still,  there  can  be  no  doubt,  I  don't  suppose, 
but  what  the  future  is  before  us,  just  like  the 
past  is  behind  us,  and  I  can't  but  thank  you 
for  your  kind  remarks,  so  entire  coliding  with 
ma  and  sister  Maria." 

Brave  man  was  Simeon  Newsome,  and  in 
most  things  self-reliant  enough ;  but  he  be- 
heved  that  he  knew  perfectly  well  that  nothing 
could  be  more  vain  than  for  such  as  he  to  es- 
say to  rival  a  man  of  such  vast  sentiments  and 
such  boundless  powers  of  expression.  Never 
had  Jones  appeared  so  great  before  his  eyes, 
what  time  he  could  take  them  off  the  ground 
and  look  up  his  full  length.  In  his  mind  he 
bade  S'phrony  Miller  farewell,  except  as  a  pro- 
spective cousin,  and  when  Jones,  after  oceans 
of  other  words,  went  away,  he  tried  to  go  to 
thinking  about  something  else.  The  long  habit 
of  submission  to  his  superior,  and  somewhat 
of  the  old  gratification  of  seeing  him  an  easy 
leader  in  movements  of  his  genius  and  inclina- 
tion, soon  induced  a  condition  of  moderate 
resignation.  Had  it  not  been  so  with  Piri- 
thoiis  after  the  success  of  the  joint  endeavors 
of  Theseus  and  himself  in  that  first  "  rape  of 
Helen"  in  the  temple  of  Diana  Orthia  ?  Did 
he  not  foresee  that  the  lots  cast  for  her  would 
fall  to  the  greater  ?  As  far  back  as  that  one 
understood  well  enough  how  such  things  go, 
and  so,  uncomplaining,  even  congratulatory, 
the  subordinate  went  away  to  seek  the  less  fair 
Kore  among  the  Molossians. 

Far  less  content  with  the  condition  of  things 
was  Mr.  Billy  Downs.  A  brief  description  must 
serve  for  the  outside  of  him.  He  was  a  rather 
small,  grizzly,  thin,  but  wiry  gentleman,  some- 
where between  forty-five  and  fifty.  He  lived 
in  a  double  log  house  a  mile  nearer  the  village 


778 


A   BACHELOR'S   COUNSELINGS. 


than  the  Newsomes.  He  could  have  afforded 
to  put  up  a  far  better  mansion,  making  and 
laying  up  as  he  had  been  doing  for  the  last 
twenty -five  years.  Everybody  liked  him,  and 
he  liked  everybody  except  Jones  Kindrick ; 
but  this  exception  was  because  he  loved  Sim 
Newsome  better  than  anybody  else.  Accord- 
ing to  neighborhood  tradition,  Mr.  Downs  had 
reason  to  feel  peculiar  tenderness  for  Sim.  In 
his  youth  he  had  wanted,  and  in  his  unskilful 
way  had  tried  to  get,  Sim's  mother  when  she 
was  Miss  Fortner.  Failing  in  this,  he  drew  him- 
self in,  and  stayed  there  until  this  son  had  grown 
old  enough  to  make  acquaintance  beyond  the 
domestic  circle,  since  when,  notably  since  the 
death  of  Mr.  Newsome,  he  had  been  indulg- 
ing for  him  a  feeling  somewhat  like  parental, 
and  it  grieved  him  to  see  that  he  was  rather 
dwarfed  by  his  admitted  inferiority  to  Jones 
Kindrick.  The  process  of  affiliation  was  slow, 
because  Mr.  Downs  seldom  went  to  the  house 
in  Mr.  Newsome's  lifetime,  and  after  his  death, 
from  feelings  of  dehcacy,  never.  When  this 
good  man  saw  how  things  had  gone  in  the  mat- 
ter of  S'phrony  Miller,  he  decided  to  throw  out 
a  few  words,  holding  back  others  to  a  later  day. 
Using  a  name  fonder  than  that  by  which  Sim 
was  commonly  addressed,  he  said : 

"Simyul,ifit  have  been  me,  when  I  see  Jones 
a-beginnin'  to  use  over  there  at  the  Millers',  with 
his  striped  kervats  and  them  dictionary  words, 
that  was  above  my  inf'mation,  I  should  have 
done  like  you  and  drawed  in  my  horns.  You 
ain't  the  pushin'  feller  Jones  Kindrick  is,  and 
my  expe'unce  is,  it  take  pushin'  with  female 
young  women  to  make  much  headway  among 
'em.  I  did  hope  it  were  yourn  and  S'phrony's 
lot,  because  she  's  a  fine  young  woman.  But 
it  seem  like  it  were  n't;  special  as  Jones  is  a 
kind  of  a  cousin,  and  have  always  let  you  give 
up  to  him,  which  people  says  he  ought  n't  too  — 
that  is,  everlastin'.  But  now,  Simyul,  if  it  was 
me,  /  should  spread  out,  and  maybe  git  up 
a  still-hunt  outside  o'  Jones's  range,  and  see 
what  's  to  come  of  him  and  S'phrony.  For 
two  things  is  absolute  certain.  One  of  'em  is, 
S'phrony  ain't  the  onlest  girl  in  the  State  o' 
Georgy,  and  the  other  is,  they  ain't  no  tellin' 
the  final  upshot  of  her  and  Jones,  mid — well, 
if  it  was  me,  I  should  peeruse  around  at  con- 
ven'ent  times,  and  maybe  ride  over  t'  other 
side  the  river — we  '11  say  up,  in,  and  along 
there  about  Williams  Creek  meetin'-house, 
where  Jes  Vinson  live,  and  he  have  a  big 
plantation  and  a  daughter  besides.  But  I 
should  make  a  still-hunt  if  it  was  me,  because 
they  ain't  any  countin'  on  Jones,  and  special 
when  he  see  you  a  likely  to  git  ahead  of 
him.  Of  course  I  got  nothin'  ag'inst  Jones 
Kindrick,  only  I  do  wish  that  Jones  Kindrick 
could  git  to  understand  that  he  ain't  to  have 


every  girl  in  the  whole  State,  and  special  them 
that  he  see  you  a-buckin'  up  to." 

Upon  these  words,  apparently  wise  and  evi- 
dently forbearing,  Sim  felt  that  he  ought  at 
least  thoughtfully  to  ponder. 


On  a  Saturday  not  long  afterward,  as  Mr. 
Jesse  Vinson,  one  of  the  deacons,  was  listening 
with  subdued  attention  to  the  sermon  then  be- 
ing delivered  by  the  pastor  of  Williams  Creek 
meeting-house,  he  observed  a  young  man  come 
in  softly,  take  a  seat  decorously,  and  with  proper 
solemnity  keep  his  eyes  on  the  preacher  during 
the  remainder  of  the  discourse.  When  a  recess 
was  taken  prior  to  the  meeting  of  the  regular 
conference,  Mr.  Vinson,  having  learned  that 
the  stranger  was  the  son  of  his  old  friend  and 
church  brother  Eli  Newsome,  asked  if  he  would 
go  and  spend  the  night  with  him.  Sim  natu- 
rally answered  yes.  Arrived  at  the  Vinson  man- 
sion, a  respectable  brick  two-story,  a  mile  away, 
he  found,  as  Mr.  Downs  had  said,  that  a  young 
girl  was  there,  and  that  she  was  not  unlike 
S'phrony  Miller,  only  taller,  dressier,  and  more 
chatty.  With  such  a  girl  a  bashful  young  man 
can  make  his  way  more  easily  than  with  one 
like  himself.  Alley  Vinson  kindly  led  him  along 
paths  which  she  discovered  he  could  tread 
with  least  embarrassment.  When  he  went  to 
bed  that  night,  he  felt  that  perhaps  he  had  done 
a  good  thing  by  venturing  there.  So  he  felt  next 
morning  on  the  way  to  meeting,  and  so  when 
the  congregation  was  dispersing,  and  he  bade 
her  good-by,  and  thanked  her  for  the  invita- 
tion to  come  again. 

I  don't  remember  if  it  was  ever  known  posi- 
tively how  Jones  Kindrick  found  out  that  Sim 
had  been  to  WiUiams  Creek:  but  Mr.  Billy 
Downs  afterward  said  that  he  was  glad  of  it, 
although  he  never  admitted  that  he  had  con- 
tributed anything  leading  to  the  information. 
At  all  events,  at  the  next  meeting-day  at  Horeb, 
two  weeks  thereafter,  Jones  hardly  more  than 
spoke  to  Sim  and  the  latter  was  surprised,  after 
the  people  were  going  back  home,  to  see  no- 
body in  this  wide  world  riding  along  with 
S'phrony  but  her  father  and  sister,  and  S'phrony 
all  the  while  looking  as  if  she  felt  as  lonesome 
as  she  could  be.  Mr.  Downs  and  Sim  traveled 
along  together.  The  former  was  as  punctual 
at  religious  services  as  the  very  deacons.  Con- 
scious of  being  a  bachelor  and  a  sinner,  and 
therefore  unmeet  for  the  kingdom  of  heaven, 
he  had  never  applied  for  membership,  but  he 
hoped,  by  the  use  of  other  outward  means,  to 
make  his  case  as  mild  as  possible  at  the  final 
judgment,  which  naturally  he  hoped  would  be 
put  off  as  long  as  possible. 

"It  look  like  a  onlucky  accident,  Simyul,  but 


A   BACHELOR'S   COUNSELINGS. 


779 


safe  investment,  yet  the  main  motive  was  to  ex- 
cite in  Jones  curiosity  first,  and  afterward  jeal- 
ousy, and  so  lead  him  away  from  the  Millers'. 
He  believed  now  that  he  had  succeeded.  His 
last  words  to  Sim  were: 

"  You  lay  low,  Simyul ;  keep  a-layin'  low  as 
you  can  git.  They  ain't  no  tellin'  what  Jones  '11 
do,  nor  what  he  won't  do.  But  one  thing  is 
certain  :  Jones  Kindrick  can't  do  every\kiviV<g,  a 
includin'  the  marryin'  of  everybody.  You  may 
stick  a  pin  right  there  among  them  words." 


my  hopes  is  it  '11  turn  out  for  the  best.  Jones 
have  a  evident  a  struck  on  to  your  trail  acrost 
the  river;  and  now  look  at  him  yonder  among 
them  men,  a-wavin'  of  his  tongue  and  the  bal- 
ance o'  hisself,  and  S'phrony  along  of  her  pa  and 
her  sister  by  her  lone  self.  Somethin's  up  be- 
twix'  him  and  her;  and  if  it  was  me,  I  should  n't 
go  to  no  Williams  Creek  next  meetin'-day,  but 
I  should  wait  to  see  where  the  cat  's  goin'  to 
jump." 

"  I  've  done  made  up  my  mind  that  I  ain't 
a-goin'  there  for  yet  a  while." 

"  Of  course  you  ain't;  I 
knewed  all  the  time  you 
were  n't.  Now,  if  it  was  me, 
I  should  feel  like  givin'  my 
horse  a  cut  and  gallopin' 
up,  and  sidlin'  in  there  by 
S'phrony,  betwix'  her  and 
her  pa;  but  I  don't  think  I  'd 
do  it  quite  yit  a  while,  so  pub- 
lic like  that,  when  her  feelin's 
has  been  hurted,  that  is,  pro- 
vided she  have  'em  for  Jones, 
which  I  always  can  not  but 
has  had  my  doubts,  and 
special  now  when  he  's  a 
open  neglectin'  of  her  in 
that  kind  o'  style.  And  if 
it  was  me,  I  should  let  Jones 
have  all  the  rope  he  want." 

Other  talk  they  had  on 
the  way.  Mr.  Downs  had 
not  command  of  what  he 
called  J  ones  Kindrick's  dic- 
tionary words,  but  when  he 
felt    Hke    it,    he  could   be 

equally  voluminous.     Stam-      "you  talk   like   i   was  a   piece  of   pound-cake,   or  a  tumbler  of   sillibub.' 


mering  had  been  the  lan- 
guage in  which  the  single  love  of  his  youth  had 
been  conveyed,  but  now  in  the  romance  of  this 
young  man  whom  his  imagination  had  adopted 
for  a  son,  uncertain,  unfixed  though  it  was, 
he  felt  an  interest  equal  to  that  of  the  most 
impassioned  lover. 

Mr.  Downs  had  wished  heartily  for  Sim  to 
marry  S'phrony.  In  his  mild  way  often  he  had 
remonstrated  with  him  for  his  habitual  yielding 
to  Jones.  Sim  had  listened  to  his  praise  with- 
out objecting;  for  to  the  humblest  as  to  the 
vainest  sweet  are  the  panegyrics  of  a  friend. 
Yet  it  would  have  been  too  painful,  therefore 
it  was  not  possible,  to  part  from  the  exalted  esti- 
mate that  he  had  had  of  Jones  all  his  life.  Mr. 
Downs  recognized  this ;  and  therefore  instead 
of  blaming,  he  seemed  rather  to  ratify  his  with- 
drawal from  his  little  stage  when  Jones  with  his 
paraphernalia  of  every  sort  stepped  upon  the 
boards.  It  was  for  this  also  that  he  sent  Sim 
upon  the  expedition  across  the  river.  He  be- 
lieved that  Alley  Vinson  would  be  an  entirely 


He  rode  on  home,  his  mind  occupied  with  all 
the  wistful  thoughts  and  the  sweet  thoughts 
of  a  true  lover.    Bless  his  old  heart ! 


Among  the  rural  folk  of  that  generation  court- 
ships and  espousals  were  for  the  most  part  brief. 
Of  the  two,  Sim  and  Jones,  Alley's  father  liked 
better  the  former;  but  Sim,  acting  on  the  coun- 
sel of  Mr.  Downs,  was  lying  low  on  his  side  of 
the  river,  and  perhaps  Alley  felt  a  tiff  for  such 
neglect.  At  all  events,  about  two  months  after- 
ward, Jones  went  over  there  in  the  family  car- 
riage, and  brought  her  back  with  him  to  stay. 

It  was  pleasant  to  see  Mr.  Downs  when  Jones 
was  taken  out  of  all  rival  possibiHties  with  his 
dear  Simyul. 

"  Simyul,  it  have  come  egzact  as  I  wanted. 
Now  you  can  come  out  and  breathe  the  a'r  free. 
And  now  you  got  the  whole  S'phrony  Miller 
field  before  you,  and  if  it  was  me  I  should  go 


780 


A   BACHELOR'S   COUNSELINGS. 


in,  and  I  should  go  in  speedy,  and  I  should  go 
in  bold." 

Sim  began  at  once  to  feel  like  a  new  man, 
and  congratulated  himself  for  following  the 
salutary  counsels  of  Mr.  Downs.  On  the  very 
next  meeting-day  S'phrony  seemed  to  him 
nicer  and  sweeter  than  ever  before.  There  was 
a  merriness  not  habitual  in  her  face  and  in  her 
words  when,  after  the  start  home,  she  referred 
to  the  new  couple. 

"  Jones  and  his  bride  looked  quite  cozy  and 
bright.    Did  n't  you  think  so,  Sim  ?  " 


right  straight,  like  I  wanted  to  do,  and  was 
a-goin'  tcJ  do  when  I  see  Jones  a-comin'  and  — 
and  —  and  a-barkin'  up  the  same  tree." 

Her  laugh,  unused  as  she  was  to  great  hi- 
larity, rang  loud. 

"I  —  I  declare  I  'm  glad  to  hear  it,  that  I 
was  mistakened." 

"  Did  I  say  you  were  mistaken  ?  " 

"  No ;  but  you  laughed,  which  go  to  show 
that  you  ain't  been  a-pesterin'  your  mind  about 
Jones." 

"  No,  indeed;  I  never  put  in  any  sort  of 


"  I  KNOW  EGZACT  HOW  VOU  FEEL,  SIMYUL." 


"  Well,  yes.  Jones  special  looked  very  com- 
fortable.   I  'm  glad  he  's  located  at  last." 

"  So  am  I." 

"  You  ?   I  —  I  'm  glad  to  hear  it,  S'phrony." 

"What  for?" 

"Because  I  —  I  did  n't  know  exactly  how 
you  and  Jones  stood." 

"  Stood  ?  Why,  we  stood  always  as  we  're 
standing  now.    What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  I  —  fact  is,  S'phrony,  I  thought  Jones  been 
a-wantin'  oi you." 

"  I  hope  you  have  n't  been  thinking  that  I 
wanted  Jones." 

She  looked  at  him  in  mild,  smiling  reproach, 
and  her  lips  were  so  red  and  her  teeth  so  white 
that  Sim  was  thankful  that  they  did  not  and 
now  never  could  belong  to  Jones. 

"  I  did  n't  know  —  why,  of  course  I  did  n't 
know,  S'phrony." 

"  I  knew  you  did  n't.  I  suppose  you  did  n't 
care." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  did ;  yes,  I  did." 

"And  suppose  you  had  known  that  I  did  n't, 
then  what  ?" 

"  Why,  I  should  have  put  in  then  myself, 


bid  for  Jones  Kindrick.  You  always  set  a 
higher  value  on  your  cousin  Jones  than  an)- 
body  else  did  —  except  Alley  Vinson." 

"  And  I  'm  mighty  glad  she  done  it.  Be- 
cause," he  said  almost  fretfully  —  "because 
ever  since  my  mind  been  in  a  condition  to 
want  anybody  for  myself,  I  been  a-wantin'  of 
you." 

"  Why,  then,  did  n't  you  come  out  like  a  man 
and  tell  me  so  ?  " 

"  It  were  because  Jones — law  me,  S'phrony, 
I  done  told  you  about  Jones." 

"  And  then  you  thought  you  'd  go  over  to 
the  Vinsons'.  " 

She  looked  at  him  searchingly. 

"  It  were  Uncle  Billy  Downs  sent  me  over 
there." 

"  For  what  ?  " 

"  Well,  Uncle  Billy  say  that  it  might  sa- 
gashuate  Jones  away  from  you." 

"  What  in  this  world  is  that  ?  Sagashiiafe  / 
That  word  's  beyond  me." 

"  It  were  Uncle  Billy's  word.  He  meant 
that  Jones  would  be  for  jjuttin'  out  my  tracks 
over  there,  like  he  put  'em  out   over   here. 


A   BACHELOR'S   COUNSELINGS. 


781 


If  I  had  have  knew  that  Jones  had  called  off 
from  you,  I  declare  on  my  word  and  honor, 
S'phrony,  I  'd  never  went  nigh  there." 

"  Suppose  you  had  thought  that  Jones  jilted 
me,  what  would  you  have  done  then  ?  " 

"  I  'd  'a'  come  at  you  jes  the  same,  S'phrony, 
jes  the  same." 

"  Then  I  say,  bless  your  heart,  and  Mr. 
Downs's  too." 

"I  'm  glad  to  hear  it." 

He  looked  at  her  wistfully,  and  said  not  an- 
other word. 

"  Well  ?  "  at  length  she  inquired. 

"I  —  I  got  no  more  to  say,  but,  soon  as 
Jones  were  off  the  track  for  good.  Uncle  Billy 
and  me  we  made  up  our  min3s  for  me  to 
court  you." 

"  Well,  why  don't  you  ?  " 

"  Ain't  I  been  a-tryin'  to  do  it,  S'phrony, 
ever  sence  we  left  the  meetin'-house  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  now  I  think  I  understand  you.  What 
do  you  want  me  to  say  ?  " 

"  I  want  you  to  say  yes,  and  then,  waitin' 
like  I  been  a-doin',  I  don't  want  you  to  put  it 
olT  too  fur." 

"  Well,  sir,  I  '11  tell  you  now  plain,  Sim  New- 
some,  that  there  is  n't  a  man  living  that  I  would 
get  married  to  inside  of  two  months,  and  you 
needn't  to  ask  me." 

"  Let  me  see ;  that  would  fetch  it  to  middle 
of  December.  That  '11  suit  me,  S'phrony.  It  '11 
come  in  nice  for  Christmas." 

"  Laws  help  my  heart,  Sim!  You  talk  like 
I  was  a  piece  of  pound-cake,  or  a  tumbler  of 
sillibub." 

"  No  comparison  to  them,  S'phrony ;  not  to 
a  whole  oven  full  o'  pound-cake,  nor  a.  whole 
stand  o'  sillibub." 

"  Hush  !  And  now  let  me  tell  you  one  thing, 
my  young  man.  If  I  am  to  marry  you,  you 
have  got  to  quit  letting  Jones  Kindrick  top 
you  in  every  everlasting  thing.  I  have  been 
mad  many  a  time  to  see  how  he  has  run  over 
you,  when  you  were  worth  ten  times  as  much. 
Do  you  hear  me  ?  " 

"  I  hear  every  word  you  say,  S'phrony.  Be- 
twix'  me  and  you  and  Uncle  Billy  Downs,  I 
know  Jones  can  be  made  to —  to  shinny  on  his 
own  side." 

"  No,  sir ;  /  shall  have  nothing  to  do  with 
it;  and  your  uncle  Billy  Downs,  as  you  call 
him,  shall  have  nothing  to  do  with  it.  If  you 
can't  keep  yourself  on  a  level  with  Jones  Kin- 
drick, I  '11  —  I  think  we  'd  just  as  well  drop 
it,  and  go  to  talking  about  something  else.  It 's 
right  cool  to-day,  don't  you  think  so,  for  the 
middle  of  October  ?  " 

"  S'phrony,  please  don't  go  to  drappin'  all 

my  feelin's  down  on  the  very  ground,  talkin' 

about  the  weather!    I  hain't  been  3.-stiedyin' 

about  the  weather,  nor  thinkin'  nor  keerin'  one 

Vol.  XLIV.— 102. 


single  continental  whether  it  's  cool  or  hot.  I 
ought  n't  to  brought  in  you  and  Uncle  Billy,  and 
if  you  say  so,  the  first  time  I  ketch  Jones  Kin- 
drick out  of  his  house,  I  '11  whirl  in  on  him  and 
maul  some  of  his  big  languages  out  of  him. 
S'phrony,  please  take  back  what  you  said  about 
the  weather,  won't  you  ?  " 

She  looked  at  him  affectionately,  and  said : 

"  My  dear  Sim,  I  'm  not  afraid  that  you 
won't  assert  your  manhood.  I  take  back  all  I 
said  about  the  weather,  and  everything  else 
that  hurt  you." 

"  I  'm  glad  to  hear  it.  I  hain't  never  been 
afraid  of  Jones.  It  's  his  big  languages  which 
I  never  learnt  that  has  made  me  keep  out  of 
his  way.  Jones  know  I  can  out-farm  him,  out- 
run him,  liing  him  down,  and  can  whip  him, 
if  it  come  to  that;  and  now  since  I  find  you 
don't  like  my  givin'  up  to  him,  which  ma  and 
Uncle  Billy  has  always  ruther  scolded  me  for 
doin',  he  better  keep  so/ne  of  his  languages  to 
himself,  for  me." 

"  There  '11  be  no  need  of  any  fussing.  Jones 
will  see  that  hereafter  you  intend  to  be  your 
own  man,  and  that  will  be  all  that  is  needed. 

"  I  'm  glad  to  hear  it." 

"  Is  that  all  you  have  to  say  ?  If  it  had  been 
Jones,  he  would  have  used  some  of  his  biggest 
words  in  saying  what  sort  of  wife  I  'd  make." 

"  Confound  Jones !  " 


It  is  a  goodly  sight,  the  influence  of  a  good 
woman  on  a  husband  who  needs  it.  Fortified 
by  the  support  of  S'phrony,  Sim  felt,  if  in  some 
respects  not  yet  the  full  equal  of  Jones,  at  least 
sufficient  to  all  usual  responsibilities.  It  de- 
lighted Mr.  Downs  to  see  him  lift  up  his  head 
among  men,  even  in  the  presence  of  Jones, 
and  not  much  less  when  the  Newsome  fence 
was  extended  in  order  to  take  in  such  a  beau- 
tiful slice  of  the  Miller  land.  In  the  next  year 
Sim's  mother  died,  after  which  Mr.  Downs,  his 
embarrassment  being  now  all  gone,  visited 
freely  at  the  house,  and  contributed  his  part 
to  Sim's  development  into  a  big,  solid,  respec- 
table farmer. 

When  the  novelty  with  Jones  was  about  over, 
he  seemed  to  feel  somewhat  the  constraint  of 
being  confined  in  his  attentions  to  just  one  wife, 
especially  when  Alley  showed  herself  to  be  a 
person  who  would  not  be  willing  to  submit 
to  any  very  great  amount  of  foolishness.  Her 
father's  indebtedness  was  more  than  had  been 
suspected,  and  the  dowry  that  had  come  along 
with  her  was  much  less  than  what  Jones  had 
counted  upon.  Alley  made  up,  at  least  she  tried 
to  make  up,  for  this  deficit  by  industry  and  self- 
assertion,  which,  if  he  only  had  known  it,  were 
the  very  things  that,  for  his  sake,  were  best 


782 


A   BACHELOR'S   COUNSELINGS. 


for  her  to  have.  It  is  curious  how  a  man  who 
long  has  towered  among  men  can  be  let  down 
by  one  woman,  not  oversized  or  aggressive, 
only  firm  and  ladylike.  His  lofty  gait,  exuber- 
ant gaiety,  and  overflowing  verbosity  declined 
in  the  constant  presence  of  a  wife  who  esti- 
mated him  at  his  comparative  conjugal  value, 
and  not  much  more.  Alley  and  S'phrony  were 
very  friendly,  ostensibly  affectionate.  Yet  it  cut 
Alley,  who  was  more  ambitious,  to  suspect  that 
S'phrony  felt  that  she  had  the  better  husband ; 
for  not  until  after  her  marriage  had  she  learned 
that  it  was  not  for  the  want  of  trying  that  Jones 
had  not  gotten  S'phrony;  then  she  remembered, 
with  a  sting  of  more  than  one  kind,  how  lightly, 
before  their  marriage,  he  had  spoken  of  Sim, 
whom  she  now  saw  was  regarded  by  everybody 
except  Jones  as  the  latter's  superior.  Her  very 
loyalty  imparted  to  these  stings  a  sharper  pain- 
fulness.  Stimulated  by  her  influence,  Jones  be- 
came much  more  energetic  in  business,  and,  like 
all  such  persons,  hoped  to  recover  his  lost  as- 
cendancy. At  the  death  of  his  mother,  intestate, 
a  year  afterward,  he  persuaded  his  sister  Maria 
to  forego  a  property  division,  as  they  were  to 
continue  to  live  together.  Upon  this  arrange- 
ment Mr.  Downs  expressed  his  opinions,  but 
only  to  Sim. 

"  It  ain't  people's  own  fau't  when  they  hain't 
the  beautiful  face  of  other  people,  Simyul.  I 
know  that  from  expe'unce,  but  that  ain't  no 
reason  for  them  to  be  runned  over,  and  they  'd 
'a'  been  a  fuss  if  any  o'  my  people  had  wanted 
to  keep  me  out  o'  my  sheer  o'  ;;?y  father's  prop'ty 
because  I  were  n't  their  equil  in  pooty  and  size- 
able. As  for  Jones,  he  's  bound  to  be  above 
somebody.  He  have  lit  off  o'  you,  and  he  can't 
git  the  up-hand  o'  his  wife,  and  now  he  have 
lit  on  to  Miss  M'ria.  He  hain't  got  what  he 
expected  to  git  by  .Alley,  and  now  I  suppose 
he  think  he  '11  make  it  up  out  of  Miss  M'ria." 

Miss  Maria  was  as  good  as  she  was  plain. 
She  had  great  respect  for  her  sister-in-law,  but 
she  loved  best  S'phrony,  with  whom  she  some- 
times held  chats  more  or  less  confidential. 

"  Brother  thought  it  was  n't  worth  while  to 
have  a  division,  as  we  were  all  together,  and 
I  did  n't  care  about  it,  as  I  never  expect  to  go 
away  from  there.  Alley  said  not  one  word 
about  it,  no  way ;  for  she  's  a  good,  honor'ble 
woman.  Alley  is,  but  it  cut  her  sometimes,  I 
suspicion,  that  brother  don't  make  and  man- 
age equil  to  cousin  Sim.  She  treats  me  just  like 
her  own  sister,  which  as  for  brother,  he  hain't 
always  done ;  that  is,  not  to  that  extent.  He 
know  I  never  expect  to  change  my  condition, 
and  so  I  suppose  he  think  it  ain't  worth  while. 
And  then,  you  know,  the  little  baby  's  named 
Maria,  which  of  course  it 's  after  ma,  although 
the  same  name  as  me,  and  it 's  a'  sweet  a  little 
thing  as  it  can  be,  and  it  take  to  me  a'most  the 


same  as  it  take  to  Alley,  and  so  on  the  whole 
I  told  brother,  at  least  for  the  present,  and 
till  I  said  different,  to  let  things  stay  as  they 
are." 

Things  went  on  with  reasonable  smoothness 
for  two  years  longer,  at  the  end  of  which,  after 
the  birth  of  her  second  child,  S'phrony  died.  It 
was  very  hard  on  poor  Sim,  who,  for  all  he 
thought  about  it,  and  grieved  about  it,  and  did 
everything  about  it  that  is  usually  done  in  such 
painful  emergencies,  was  not  able  to  see  how, 
if  ever,  the  loss  was  to  be  repaired. 


In  this  while  everything  about  Mr.  Downs 
had  grown  more  dry,  not  rapidly,  but  percep- 
tibly. No ;  there  was  one  exception  —  his  love 
for  Sim. 

"  Been  my  own  daughter,"  he  said  often,  as 
tears  were  in  his  eyes,  "  I  would  n't  'a'  felt 
more  miser'ble,  special  for  poor  Simyul.  The 
good  Lord  always  know  what  's  for  the  best ; 
but  sech  as  that  never  struck  me  that  way.  I 
no  doubt  S'phrony  have  gone  to  mansions  in 
the  sky,  for  she  was  as  good  as  they  ever  make 
'em ;  but  what  poor  Simyul  is  to  do,  I  has  yit 
to  see." 

For  several  months  he  watched  and  tended 
him  closely ;  he  waited  such  time  as  was  re- 
spectful to  S'phrony's  memory,  and  then  de- 
cided that  in  a  manner  as  delicate  as  possible 
he  would  put  forth  a  feeler. 

"  Simyul,  M'ria  Kindrick  mayn't  be  as  hand- 
some as  some,  nor  she  may  n't  be  quite  as 
young;  but  that  nor  them  don'  hender  her 
from  bein'  a  oncommon  fine  female,  and  I  have 
been  stud'in'  on  it,  and  my  mind  have  arriv 
at  the  conclusion  that  M'ria  Kindrick  would 
make  the  best  sort  of  a  companion  to  them 
that  has  lost  who  they  oncet  had,  and  is  left 
with  two  little  motherless  children." 

Sim  shuddered  slightly;  then  in  his  heart  he 
thanked  Mr.  Downs,  whose  motives  he  knew  to 
be  all  kindness,  for  only  hinting  his  thoughts, 
instead  of  blurting  them  out,  as  is  sometimes 
done  by  people  who  seem  to  have  not  a  par- 
ticle of  dehcacy.  He  looked  at  his  children,  one 
waddling  about  on  the  piazza,  the  other  in  the 
nurse's  arms,  and  said  : 

"  Uncle  Billy,  it  appears  Hke  to  me  that  since 
S'phrony  's  been  gone  I  feel  like  I  don't  keer 
one  blessed  thing — that  is,  for  myself" 

"I  know  egzact  how  you  feel,  Simyul,  though 
I  ain't  never  been  in  them  conditions,  a-owin', 
I  suppose,  to  my  not  a  never  havin'  a  wife  to 
lose  o'  no  sort.  But  if  it  was  me,  I  should  have 
my  eye  on  them  childern,  a-knowin'  no  7naii  per- 
son can  always  see  which  sech  as  them,  inner- 
cent  if  they  be,  is  obleeged  to  have." 

"  The  good  Lord  know  how  sorry  I  am  for 


A   BACHELOR'S  COUNSELINGS. 


783 


'em,"  and  Sim  looked  at  them  with  much 
generosity. 

"  Of  course  you  are,  a-bein'  they  're  your 
own  childem;  but  a  young  man  hke  you,  he 
ought  to  be  sorry  for  hisself  too." 

Then  Sim  candidly  admitted  that  he  was. 

"  I  'm  thankful  for  that  much,"  said  Mr. 
Downs,  heartily,  "  and  if  it  was  me,  I  should 
try  my  level  best  to  requiperate,  like  the  doc- 
tor say;  I  should  try  to  polish  myself  up  in  all 
mod'rate  ways,  and  let  people  see  that  I  had  n't 
give  up,  not  by  a  long  shot;  and  to  save  my 
life,  I  can't  keep  out  of  my  head,  if  Jones  was 
to  divide  wath  Miss  M'ria,  which,  bein'  his  own 
dear  sister,  he  's  bound  to  do,  and  this  side  o' 
the  plantation  was  to  fall  to  her,  how  compack 
every  thing  would  be,  provided  people  had  the 
mind  to  make  it  so  by  jindin'  and  nunitin'  o' 
theirselves  and  it  and  them." 

After  several  talks  on  this  line,  Sim  lifted  up 
his  head  as  well  as  he  could.  It  was  not  strange 
that  he  should  drop  in  at  the  Kindricks'  occa- 
sionally, and  listen  thankfully  to  what  consola- 
tion the  family  oftered.  After  the  first  outpour, 
Jones  did  little  in  that  way;  but  Alley,  and 
especially  Miss  Maria,  were  earnestly  sympa- 
thetic and  kind.  Sim  soon  began  to  come  there 
quite  often,  so  often  that  Jones  considered  it  ne- 
cessary to  say  something  about  it.  One  morn- 
ing at  the  breakfast-table  he  looked  up  from 
his  plate  and  said : 

"  M'ria,  Sim  Newsome  comes  here  oftener 
than  I  can  see  fit  to  take  any  stock  in  his  travel- 
ings and  in  his  visits." 

At  that  moment  both  ladies  had  their  coffee- 
cups  in  their  hands,  Miss  Maria's  touching 
her  lips,  and  Alley's  on  its  way.  These  were 
set  down  promptly.  Miss  Maria's  so  abruptly 
that  some  of  its  contents  splashed  into  the 
saucer.  She  looked  straight  at  Jones  for  a 
second  or  so,  then  rose,  and  left  the  room. 

Contrariwise  with  Alley.  Her  face  reddened 
with  generous  shame,  and  she  said : 

"  I  have  heard  you  make  many  imprudent, 
not  to  say  foohsh  and  shameless,  speeches,  but 
never  one  equal  to  that." 

Her  disgust  was  so  manifest  that  he  avoided 
the  look  which  she  gave  him,  and  said  sullenly : 

"  I  jest  wanted  to  inform  M'ria  that  Sim 
Newsome  was  not  fooling  nor  hidwinking  me, 
sneaking  over  here  with  his  moanin'  talks  and 
conversations." 

"  Mr.  Newsome  has  not  been  coming  here  in 
any  such  way,  Mr.  Kindrick,  and  if  he  has  been 
coming  here  at  all  with  the  notion  which  you 
showed  Maria  that  you  believe,  I  don't  see,  for 
my  life,  how  you  could  study  up  a  better  way 
to  drive  her  to  accept  him  at  the  first  offer  he 
makes  to  her." 

"  My  Lord !  for  a  gentleman's  own  wife  to 
-converse  in  that  way,  and  on  a  subject  of  the 


vitualest  importance  to  him  as  the  man  of  the 
house." 

"  Gentleman  !  Man  of  the  house  !  Pshaw ! " 
Then  she  rose  also,  and  left  him  to  himself. 
Going  to  Maria's  chamber,  she  said : 

"  Maria,  do  please  try  not  to  mind  Mr.  Kin- 
drick. I  am  deeply  mortified;  but  I  hope  you 
understand  your  brother  well  enough  to  not  let 
his  reckless,  insulting  words  distress  you  too 
much." 

"  Law,  my  dear  child !  I  left  the  table  to 
keep  from  seeing  the  trouble  that  I  knew  such 
outrageous  words  would  give  you.  Cousin  Sim, 
I  don't  suppose,  has  been  thinking  about  me  as 
brother  hinted.  But  brother  ought  to  know 
that  if  cousin  Sim  was  foolish  enough  to  want 
me,  the  way  to  make  me  take  him  would  be  to 
talk  about  him  in  that  way." 

"  Let  us  kiss,  and  say  no  more  about  it." 

And  so  they  did. 

In  a  case  of  this  sort,  which  inevitably  must 
grow  worse  if  it  does  not  grow  better,  and  that 
soon,  there  was  one  of  two  things  for  a  man 
like  Jones  Kindrick  to  do.  One  was  to  amend 
himself.  But  people  like  him  cannot  learn  to 
yield  entirely  a  supremacy  after  it  has  been 
admitted  so  long.  When  his  control  over  Sim 
had  ceased,  he  thought  to  transfer  it  to  Alley. 
Failing  here,  except  so  far  as  a  loyal  wife  will 
always  submit  to  any  sort  of  husband,  he  now 
sought  to  domineer  over  his  patient  sister,  and 
we  have  seen  what  was  likely  to  come  of  that. 
Jones,  although  not  an  old  man,  was  too  old  to 
amend.  Perhaps  he  had  so  decided  in  his 
mind.  Then,  not  so  intending,  however,  he 
took  the  other  alternative.  To  make  short  an 
unpleasant  recital,  he  went  into  a  decline,  and 
when  he  foresaw  that  he  was  not  to  retrace 
his  steps,  he  asked  Sim,  as  a  cousin  and  a 
friend,  to  be  as  liberal  as  he  could  with  Alley 
and  the  baby  when  division  of  his  mother's 
estate  should  be  had  between  them  and  Maria. 
And  Sim  promised  solemnly  that  whatever  in- 
fluence he  should  have  in  that  matter  should 
be  exerted  on  the  line  of  the  wishes  just  de- 
clared. Jones  thanked  him  and  the  rest  for  all 
that  they  had  done  and  promised,  and  then 
went  his  way. 

"  On  the  whole,"  said  Mr.  Downs,  kindly, 
"  it  were  as  honor'ble  thing  as  Jones  could  do, 
poor  feller." 


"  No,  Simyul,"  said  Mr.  Downs,  feeling  the 
sweetness  which  we  all  have  when  in  forgiving 
mood,  "  they  ain't  a  thing  I  has  to  say  ag'inst 
poor  Jones.  He  were  a  fine  young  man,  if  he 
have  only  knowed  how  to  act  different." 

A  generous  man,  Sim  felt  becoming  regrets. 
He  was  touched  by  the  appeal  in  behalf  of  Alley 
and  her  baby,  and  he  resolved  to  befriend  them 


784 


A   BACHELOR'S   COUNSELINGS. 


to  the  degree  comporting  with  other  claims. 
He  had  not  intimated  to  Miss  Maria  that  if  she 
should  choose,  she  might  have  the  place  left 
vacant  by  S'phrony.  Once  or  twice,  constantly 
stimulated  by  Mr.  Downs  and  the  needs  of  his 
children,  he  had  not  been  very  far  from  doing 
it.  But,  somehow,  S'phrony's  image  or  lack  of 
ardent  desire  had  hindered.  When  Jones  had 
gotten  out  of  everybody's  way,  Sim  gradually 
began  to  ask  himself  if  he  were  quite  as  sorry  as 
he  used  to  be;  for  somehow,  when  he  was  at  the 
Kindricks',  he  had  somewhat  of  a  notion  that 
Jones,  wherever  he  was  (and  he  sincerely  hoped 
it  was  a  good  place),  had  his  eye  upon  him. 
Alley  behaved  with  entire  decorum,  exhibiting 
neither  too  much  nor  too  little  of  unavailing 
sorrow.  Both  ladies  accepted  thankfully  his 
counsels  about  the  management  of  their  busi- 
ness. Seeing  how  much  these  were  needed  in 
the  comparatively  run-down  condition  in  which 
things  had  been  left,  he  went  over  often,  be- 
cause, business  man  that  he  was,  he  knew  it 
to  be  necessary. 

This  seems  a  fitting  place  to  mention  the 
somewhat  changed  relations  of  Sim  and  Mr. 
Downs  toward  each  other.  Latterly  their  con- 
fidential chattings  had  been  getting  into  rather 
dwindling  condition.  Perhaps  neither  did  so 
deliberately;  but  at  all  events  they  seemed  to 
have  decided  simultaneously  that  the  future, 
better  than  they,  would  know  how  to  take 
care  of  itself 

Mr.  Downs's  land  joined  both  properties. 
One  day  it  occurred  to  him  that  the  Downs- 
Kindrick  line  offence,  being  rather  crumbling, 
ought  to  be  reset.  While  walking  alongside  he 
discovered  an  ancient  mark  which  showed  that 
the  fence  had  been  put  by  mistake  on  the  hither 
side  of  his  line.  Knowing  that  right  was  nothing 
but  right,  he  resolved  to  ride  over  and  have  a 
friendly  talk  upon  the  subject  with  one  or  both 
of  the  Kindrick  ladies.  But  he  did  not  do  so  im- 
mediately after  making  the  discovery.  No;  he 
first  went  to  town  and  purchased  some  very  nice 
cloth  and  other  materials,  had  everything  cut 
out  by  the  tailor,  and  afterward, —  on  that  same 
day,  bless  you, —  rode  away  up  to  Miss  Faithy 
Wimpy,  whom  he,  as  well  as  everybody  else, 
knew  to  be  the  best  maker-up  in  that  whole  re- 
gion. When  all  was  finished  and  brought  back, 
it  was  then  that  he  went  to  the  Kindricks'.  Yet 
he  did  not  travel  by  the  public  road,  which 
would  have  taken  him  by  the  Newsome  place. 
He  rode  over  his  own  ground  until  reaching 
the  fence  aforementioned.  This  he  laid  down, 
and,  after  passing  over,  traveled  on  quietly  and 
thoughtfully.  The  ladies  were  sitting  on  the 
piazza,  each  moderately  busy  at  some  sort  of 
needlework,  when  they  heard  from  behind  the 
house  the  opening  and  shutting  of  a  gate  that 
led  into  the  lower  portion  of  the  plantation. 


"  Wonder  who  can  be  there  at  that  gate," 
said  Miss  Maria,  suspending  her  work;  "the 
hands  ain't  anywhere  in  that  part  of  the  plan- 
tation." Rising,  she  walked  to  the  end  of  the 
piazza,  and,  looking  back,  said :  "  Alley,  do 
come  here.  It  's  Mr.  Downs's  horse,  I  think, 
but  who  in  this  world  it  is  that 's  on  him,  I  can't 
tell." 

The  horseman  came  on  alongside  the  garden 
and  the  yard.  Proceeding  thence  to  one  of  the 
trees  near  the  gate,  he  alighted,  hitched  his 
beast,  and,  opening  the  gate,  advanced  mod- 
estly up  the  walk.  Even  then  Miss  Maria  did  n't 
dream  who  it  was. 

"Why,  Maria,"  said  Alley,  "it 's  Mr.  Downs 
himself"  And  she  smiled;  for  by  this  time, 
poor  thing,  she  could  pick  up  a  little  sprightli- 
ness. 

"  What  in  this  world,"  said  Miss  Maria  in  low 
tones,  "can  he  be  coming  here  for,  and  from 
the  back  way  ?  that  is,  if  it 's  him,  which  I  don't 
—  why,  how  d'  ye,  Mr.  Downs?  I  did  n't 
know  you  at  first." 

"  You  knewed  ;«^,Miss  Maria,"  he  answered, 
as  he  was  shaking  hands,  "but  you  knewed  not 
these  strange  clothes,  special  comin'  up  the  back 
way  of  a  suddent  like." 

"  Might  have  been  something  in  that,"  she 
answered,  trying  to  ignore  another  faint  smile 
on  Alley's  face. 

"  Come  on  business,"  he  said  when  seated, 
and  with  many  carefully  selected  words  he 
proceeded  to  tell  what  it  was,  looking  at  one 
and  the  other  alternately.  They  answered 
promptly  that  they  had  not  a  doubt  of  the  verity 
of  his  statements,  and  that  the  fence  should  be 
made  to  conform  to  the  newly  ascertained  line. 

"  Well,"  said  the  visitor,  with  as  much  hearti- 
ness as  he  could  command,  "  if  you  two  had 
been  a  couple  o'  men,  which  I  'm  thankful  you 
ain't,  I  'd  'a'  had  to  palarver  andpalarver  about 
that  line,  and  then  maybe  not  satisfy  'em.  But 
bein'  women,  it  's  done  settled  in  short  order, 
I  '11  git  Simyul  Newsome  to  ride  down  there 
with  me  some  time  soon,  so  he  can  see  they 
ain't  no  doubts  about  it.  You  can  trust  Simyul, 
I  know." 

"  Certainly,"  answered  Miss  Maria ;  "  but 
we  can  trust  you  just  as  well,  Mr.  Downs." 

"I  'm  much  obleeged;  "  and  afterward  he 
thought  of  a  thousand  more  words  which  he 
could  and  would  have  said,  but  that  they  did  not 
occur  to  him  until  after  he  had  left  the  house. 

When  he  reached  home,  he  gave  some  swift 
orders  to  his  foreman,  and  then,  after  putting 
off  his  finery,  and  getting  into  his  every-day 
things,  rode  straight  to  the  Newsomes'.  When 
he  got  there,  if  it  had  been  to  save  his  own  life, 
or  even  that  of  Sim,  he  could  not  have  told 
exactly  how  he  felt.  He  began  as  coolly  as  it 
was  possible  to  try  to  assume  to  be : 


A   BACHELOR'S   COUNSELINGS. 


785 


"  I  'v  been  over  to  the  Kindricks'  this  mom- 
in',  Simyul." 

"  Ah  ?  I  'm  glad  to  hear  it,  Uncle  Billy.  I 
hope  you  found  all  well." 

"Yes;  I  heard  no  complaint.  No;  I  were 
down  there  by  me  and  their  fence,  and  I  con- 
cluded I  'd  peeruse  on  up  to  the  house  and  let 
them  females  know  that  I  acc'dental  found 
out  that  the  fence  were  n't  exactly  on  the 
line  betwix'  us,  but  it  run  a  leetle  on  my  side. 
When  I  told  'em,  they  said  they  was  perfect 
riconciled  to  have  it  sot  right.  I  told  'em  I  'd 
see  you  about  it  first,  so  you  could  see  I  were 
n't  mistakened,  as  I  could  show  a  cross-mark 
on  a  tree  plain  as  open  and  shet.  They  'lowed 
they  was  willin'  to  trust  ary  one  of  us,  me  and 
you." 

"  Of  course,  Uncle  Billy.  I  would  have 
known  they  'd  'a'  said  that.  About  what  differ- 
ence does  it  make  ?  " 

"  I  should  say  five  acres,  more  or  less,  by 
the  look  of  my  eye." 

"  All  right ;  when  you  git  ready,  I  'II  speak  to 
them,  and  they  '11  help  you  move  the  fence. 
I  '11  take  your  word  for  it." 

"That  's  what  I  sha'n't  do,  Simyul,  and 
that 's  what  I  come  to  see  you  about." 

"  Why,  it 's  nothing  but  right." 

But  in  the  tone  of  Mr.  Downs  and  in  his  look 
was  a  firmness  which  convinced  Sim  that  it 
would  be  useless  to  insist. 

"  No,  Simyul;  not  with  the  feehn's  and  the 
respects  I  has  for  them  females.  You  want  to 
know  what  I  done  soon  as  I  got  home  from 
there  ?  I  called  for  Sam,  I  did,  and  I  told  him 
to  let  the  hands  drap  everything,  and  go  down 
there  and  tear  down  that  fence,  and  then  set  it 
up  again  with  sound  rails,  top  to  bottom,  eend 
to  eend,  on  the  same  line  as  before." 

"  I  cannot  understand  you,  Uncle  Billy." 

"  I  don't  wonder  at  you,  Simyul,  for  nother 
can  I  understand  myself,  not  square,  straight 
up  and  down.  But  let  me  tell  you  fur  as  I  can 
see  down  into  my  own  insides." 

Here  Mr.  Downs  felt  his  eyes  begin  to  trem- 
ble; so  he  turned  them  away  from  Sim,  and 
thus  proceeded : 

"  When  I  got  there  in  the  cool  o'  the  mornin' 
like,  and  I  see  them  couple  o'  fine  women 
a-settin'  there  in  the  piazzer,  busy  as  two  bees, 
and  it  look  like  the  bein'  of  a  widder  have  im- 
proved Alley  to  that,  1  could  n't  but  say  to  my- 
self, if  it  was  me,  and  I  was  a  young  man,  it 
seem  like  the  sight  of  her  would  perfect  blind  a 
feller's  eye.  And  then  I  say  to  myself,  what  a 
pity  !  because,  when  the  time  come,  and  Simyul 
Newsome  and  Miss  M'ria  Kindrick  may  see  it 
their  juty  to  be  pardners,  if  for  nothin'  else,  for 
conven'ence,  and  then  when  the  prop'ty  is  di- 
vided, I  said  to  myself,  I  sha'n't  fence  in  that 
land,  but  I  '11  leave  it  right  whar  it  is,  vallible  as 
Vol.  XLIV.— 103. 


it  is,  and  the  timber  that 's  on  it,  I  '11  leave  it 
thar  for  the  surwivor." 

"  Why,  law,  Uncle  Billy !  I  and  cousin  Maria 
have  no  such  notion." 

"  What  ?  "  cried  Mr.  Downs,  turning  upon 
Sim,  his  eyes  dancing  and  his  face  aglow  with 
smiles.  "  Well,  well,  well !  Now  my  mind  is 
easy,  Simyul,  which  it  hain't  been  before  not 
sence  they  told  me  the  breath  were  out  o'  poor 
Jones's  body  for  good.  I  knewed  it  were  n't 
egzact  the  thing  to  be  thinkin'  about  it  so  yearly, 
but  the  good  Lord  know  I  could  n't  he'p  it, 
and  I  say  to  myself  it  do  look  like  the  good 
Lord  have  flung  another  chance  in  your  way, 
after  givin'  up  so  many  times  to  Jones,  which, 
poor  feller,  I  hain't  nary  a  word  to  say  ag'inst 
him,  now  he  's  dead  and  goned;  but  facts  is 
facts,  and  I  am  now  a-talkin'  to  you  as  a  man 
o'  jedgment  in  this  world,  which  no  man,  and 
I  may  say  no  nobody  else,  ever  deparches  from 
it  tell  they  time  come,  and  when  it  do,  you 
can't  no  more  bender  'em  from  goin'  than  you 
can  hender  the  sun  from  settin',  and  if  he  ever 
had  a  wife,  the  said  wife  is  then  cut  loose,  and 
that  for  good.  Why,  the  very  'postle  Paul  writ 
that.  Of  course,  you  know,  I  ain't  sayin'  ary 
thing  ag'inst  Jones,  a-layin'  where  he  is,  and 
a-leavin'  of  a  wife  which  for  beautiful  I  never 
see  but  one  which  was  beyant  her;  but  that 
was  before  you  was  borned.  Let  that  all  go 
now." 

Then  with  a  gentle  gesture  he  waved  back 
the  image  of  the  love  of  his  youth,  and  pro- 
ceeded : 

"  But  to  begin  where  we  lef '  off.  When  they 
told  me  that  Jones,  poor  feller,  have  give  up, 
it  flash  in  my  mind  quick  as  thunder  that  it 
do  look  like  Jones  Kindrick  have  gone  away 
peaceable  and  honor'ble,  and  flung  his  widder 
and  his  innercent  infant  on  to  you,  a-knowin' 
that  you  would  forgive  him  and  do  the  best 
you  could  by  both  of  'em,  and  special  when 
I  did  think  on  my  soul  this  mornin'  she  was 
pooty  as  a  pink,  spite  o'  all  her  moanin'  caliker, 
I  say  to  myself,  there  's  Simyul  Newsome's 
chance.  As  for  the  last  surwivor.  Miss  M'ria, 
I  '11  yit  leave  that  line  fence  jest  as  it  is." 

Sim  promised  to  ponder  these  words. 

VIII. 

When  one  approaches  and  foresees  the  end 
of  a  story,  detail  is  tiresome.  Sim  had  promised 
to  ponder,  and  he  did  so  with  entire  fidelity  and 
some  rapidity.  Even  yet  he  had  not  parted 
from  all  sense  of  the  vast  superiority  of  Jones 
over  himself,  and  he  looked  with  some  dread 
upon  the  attempt  to  be  a  successor  to  such  a 
man ;  but  he  remembered  that  he  had  given 
his  promise  to  him  to  aid  in  having  justice  done 
to  his  widow  and  child ;  then  Alley  was  more 


786 


PHYLLIDA'S  AfOURNING. 


beautiful,  and  looked  sweeter  than  ever  be- 
fore, and  —  yes,  he  was  obliged  to  admit  that 
he  loved  her.  Sim  Newsome,  notwithstand- 
ing his  humility,  was  a  man  who,  when  his 
mind  was  made  up  to  do  a  thing,  could  go 
right  along  to  it.  So  one  day  he  went  over 
there,  and  as  soon  as  he  had  taken  her  hand 
and  said  good  morning,  he  told  her  that  he  had 
come  to  ask  if  she  would  have  him.  Alley  did 
not  answer  immediately,  but  stepped  back  to 
bring  out  a  chair  for  him,  and  to  see  if  Miss 
Maria  had  gone  out,  as  she  knew  that  she  was 
expecting  to  do.  It  was  then  that,  holding  her 
eyes  down,  and  looking  at  her  hands  folded  in 
her  lap,  she  answered  that  she  would. 

And  now  there  were  left  Miss  Maria  and 
Mr.  Downs.  It  would  be  a  tedious  recital  of 
her  lonesomeness  all  by  herself  in  that  big 
house,  and  the  increased  sense  of  it  that  lately 
had  come  to  Mr.  Downs  in  the  smaller  mansion 
which  hitherto  had  been  large  enough  to  con- 
tain him  and  all  his  simple  familiar  things  and 
ambitions.  I  could  not  say  what  influence 
interest  in  two  romances  had  exerted  upon  a 
mind  long  unused  to  such  things.    But  Jones 


Kindrick  having  gotten  out  of  Sim's  way  for 
good  and  all.  and  the  latter  no  longer  need- 
ing help  to  withstand  his  encroachings,  Mr. 
Downs  began  to  feel  lonesome  both  for  himself 
and  for  Miss  Maria.  I  could  not  tell,  because 
I  never  knew,  nor  did  anybody  else,  precisely 
how  these  two  got  together.  In  the  economy 
of  the  world,  provision  is  made  somewhere  for 
all  legitimate  wants.  We  have  been  taught  by 
microscopic  investigation  that  even  the  proto- 
plasm, which  has  neither  eyes,  nor  mouth,  nor 
ears,  nor  hands,  nor  feet,  not  inside,  nor  outside, 
yet  knows  how  to  seek  and  find  affiliation  with 
its  kind,  if  for  nothing  else,  for  comfort  in  its  soli- 
tude. By  some  sort  of  quasi-involuntary,  but  al- 
ways friendly  movements,  executed  in  a  com- 
paratively brief  time  after  Alley  and  her  baby 
had  been  taken  to  the  Newsome  house,  these 
two  became  one.  Some  people  said  that  the 
continued  multiplication  of  poor  kin  around 
them  had  something  to  do  with  it;  but  others 
argued  that  the  winning  card  in  the  hands  of 
Mr,  Downs,  so  intended  when  he  slipped  it 
out  of  the  pack,  was  that  generous  sacrifice 
which  he  had  made  for  the  survivor. 


Richard  Malcolm  Johnston. 


PHYLLIDA'S    MOURNING. 


BLUFF  overlooking  the  turbid, 
swiftly  flowing  river,  low  hills 
rolling  away  beyond,  a  gray  sky 
broken  by  one  yellow  streak  in 
the  west,  and  hot,  breathless  twi- 
light hanging  over  all. 
A  wilderness  of  neglected  paths,  some  for 
horse  and  some  for  man,  crowned  the  bluff, 
separating  from  one  another  small  irregular 
plats  the  tangled  grass  and  shrubbery  of  which 
half  hid  the  uneven  clay  mounds  they  con- 
tained. Over  the  hillocks  were  scattered,  in 
more  or  less  orderly  arrangement,  shells  and 
broken  china  and  glass,  footless  vases  stuck 
into  the  earth,  the  bowls  of  old  lamps,  and 
marble  images  without  noses.  There  was  even 
a  dilapidated  doll  or  two  among  the  medley. 
One  would  have  imagined  that  children  had 
chosen  the  spot  for  "  playing  house  "  on  an 
abnormally  large  scale,  had  it  not  been  for  its 
distance  from  all  habitations,  and  its  air  of 
desolation. 

Two  figures  were  outlined  against  the  sky 
on  the  edge  of  the  bluff.  The  taller  was  that 
of  a  slim,  shapely  mulatto  girl  of  eighteen,  who 
watched  listlessly  the  busy  fingers  of  the  small 
figure  squatted  at  her  feet,  very  brown  as  to 
face,  hands,  bare  legs,  and  curtailed  gown.  The 
only  high  lights  in  this  sketch  of  nature  were 
the  whites  of  the  eyes. 


The  child  was  planting  a  slip  of  geranium  in 
a  broken-spouted  tea-pot  of  the  Rebecca-at-the- 
well  brand.  "  What  mus'  I  name  it,  Phyllida  ?  " 
she  asked,  pressing  down  the  earth  around  the 
green  stem.  "  I  'm  'bliged  to  name  it  to  make 
it  grow  good." 

"  Name  it  de  '  Miss  Lucy,'  I  reckon,"  said 
Phyllida,  with  a  sigh  so  deep  that  it  was  almost 
a  groan;  "  ol'  Mis'  give  it  to  yo'.  She  would  n' 
'a'  give  it  to  me."  She  stooped  and,  taking  the 
tea-pot,  placed  it  carefully  in  a  commanding 
position  at  the  head  of  one  of  the  low  mounds, 
where  it  overlooked  a  happy  combination  of 
three  tea-cups,  a  water-pitcher  without  a  han- 
dle, a  blue  glass  pickle-dish,  two  lamp-stands, 
and  some  broken  vases.  As  she  rose,  she  stepped 
back  a  pace  or  two  to  get  the  full  effect,  while 
an  expression  of  satisfaction  slowly  dawned  on 
her  face. 

"  Dere  now,"  she  said,  "  dere  ain'  no  pret- 
tier grave  in  de  cemet'ry.  Dey  's  mo'  t'ings  on 
Sis'  Charlotte's  grave,"  pointing  to  an  adjacent 
mound  where  a  rusty  tin  coffee-pot  and  a  large 
red-and-white-flowered  bottle  such  as  barbers 
use  for  bay-rum  stood  guard  over  the  smaller 
articles  that  covered  it  entirely,  "  an'  dey  's 
bigger  t'ings  on  Unc'  Joshua's,"  indicating  a 
certain  conspicuous  white  object  in  another 
direction,  "but  I  would  n'  put  no  slop-jar  on, 
don'  care  if  did  have  a  blue  ban'.   We  on'y 


PHYLLIDA'S  MOURNING. 


787 


got  t'ings  Mr.  Brown  love  while  he  was  'live. 
I  ain'  dat  kin'  to  stick  t'ings  on  fo'  show." 

"  Would  n'  all  de  bottles  he  done  took  de 
med'cine  out'n  look  fine,  Phyllida  ?  "  suggested 
the  little  sister.    "  Dey  's  right  smart  of  'em." 

"An'  make  it  jus'  like  Brer  Hayne's  grave 
over  dere  ?  "  said  Phyllida,  pointing  the  finger 
of  scorn  at  a  rough  inclosure  of  barrel-staves 
and  old  wire,  so  slight  that  a  stray  calf  might 
have  knocked  it  down,  but  the  small  gate  of 
which  was  carefully  secured  with  a  large  pad- 
lock. Twelve  medicine-bottles  symmetrically 
adorned  the  one  mound  within,  five  on  each 
side,  one  at  the  head,  and  one  at  the  foot,  all 
bearing  the  legend  clearly  blown  in  the  glass, 
"  Smith's  Never- Failing  Cure." 

"  No ;  I  ain'  got  no  trash  on  Mr.  Brown's 
grave,"  continued  Phyllida.  "  I  gi'  'im  de  bes' 
I  got  in  de  house  —  seem  like  it 's  all  I  can  do," 
she  added,  turning  away  with  a  farewell  glance 
of  mingled  pride  and  pathos. 

"  'Clar'  to  gracious,  Phyllida,"  said  the  brown 
morsel,  looking  apprehensively  over  her  shoul- 
der as  they  walked  on,  "  it  's  gittin'  pow'ful 
dark." 

"  All  de  better,"  returned  the  other,  gloom- 
ily. "A  widder  dat  has  to  wear  a  calico  wid  as 
many  colors  as  Joseph's  coat  better  go  to  de 
cemet'ry  after  dark." 

Superstitious  terror  of  the  place  was  too 
strong  for  the  child,  however,  and  a  cold  shiver 
ran  over  her.  She  slipped  her  hand  into  her 
sister's.  "  I  would  n'  'a'  come  in  de  firs'  dark  fo' 
no  one  but  you,  Phyllida,"  she  said  quaveringly, 
"  an'  de  black  dark  a-comin'.  Heap  better  go 
early  in  de  mo'nin' — nobody  '11  see  you  den." 

"  Seem  like  de  trees  'u'd  be  'bliged  to  laugh 
at  a  widder  wid  no  crape,"  said  Phyllida,  de- 
spairingly, stopping  before  a  grave  they  were 
passing.  The  underbrush  grew  thickly  over  it, 
almost  concealing  a  crockery  wash-bowl,  half 
filled  with  drifted  pine  straw,  on  which  lay  a 
rubber  rattle  and  two  little  worn  baby  shoes, 
weather-beaten  and  shriveled  by  many  storms. 

"  Dat  was  Sis'  Nanny's  baby;  'member  dat 
baby.  Nonsense  ?  "  The  brown  shadow  had 
been  christened  Narcissus,  but  every-day  use 
had  shortened  the  name  into  a  most  inappro- 
priate title  for  so  grave  a  personage.  "  Sis' 
Nanny  she  put  on  crape  fo'  dat  chile  like 
't  was  her  husban' — a  little  no-'count  baby!" 
Phyllida  punctuated  the  sentence  by  walking 
on,  greatly  to  her  sister's  relief.  "An'  when 
Brer  Sampson  die,  look  at  de  fun'al,"  she 
continued.  "All  de  ' Gospel  sisters'  wid  white 
hats  an'  crape  ban's,  an'  de  'Chil'ren  of  Jeru- 
salem' wid  black  hats  an'  white  ban's,  an'  all 
wid  deir  society  handkerchiefs  —  tell  you,  't  was 
mighty  fine.  An'  de  widder  in  de  deepes' 
mo'nin'.  An'  was  n'  de  Rev'end  Mr.  Brown 
as  great  a  preacher  as  Brer  Sampson,  jus'  yo' 


tell  me?  Did  Brer  Sampson  ever  preach  a 
sermon  like  dat  one  Brer  Brown  preach,  'bout 
de  works  of  nature  ?  Don'  you  'member, 
Nonsense,  how  de  No'the'n  gen'l'man  dat  hear 
him  write  it  all  down  ?  Don'  you  'member  how 
he  draw  himself  up,  an'  whack  de  big  Bible, 
an'  say,  '  O  my  bredren,  we  could  any  of  us 
make  de  bumblebee,  but  who  could  put  o?i  de 
yallerfuzz  /  '  An'  here  is  Brer  Brown's  widder, 
dat  ought  'a'  be  holdin'  up  her  head  in  a  crape 
bonnet  and  veil,  sneakin'  roun'  in  de  dark  to 
de  cemet'ry,  'fraid  to  meet  up  wid  somebody." 

"  I  would  n'  min',"  urged  her  faithful  con- 
soler, stoutly.  "  Brer  Brown  had  a  mighty  fine 
fun'al,  I  hear  ev'ybody  say.  De  white  preacher 
come  —  " 

"  Mighty  fine  fun'al,  sure  'nough,"  inter- 
rupted PhylUda,  "an'  de  widder  'bhged  to  hide 
in  de  back  room  'cause  she  got  no  mo'nin' ! " 
The  play  of  "Hamlet"  with  Hamlet  left  out 
would  have  been  the  only  adequate  compari- 
son to  Phyllida's  mind,  had  she  but  known  it. 
"  De  mo'nin'  's  de  bigges'  part  of  it,  chile.  When 
oleUnc'  Paulus  die,  Aunt 'Liza  mighty  po'ly  — 
so  po'ly  she  can'  git  out'n  de  bed.  An'  she  put 
her  mo'nin'  bonnet  an'  veil  an'  black  gloves  on, 
an'  set  up  in  de  bed  an'  see  ev'ybody.  If  ol' 
Mis'  —  " 

"  I  done  ask  ol'  Mis',  like  you  tell  me,"  said 
the  child,  wistfully,  "an'  she  say  —  " 

"  Oh,  1  know  what  she  say  well  'nough.  01' 
Mis'  ain'  never  forgive  me  yet,"  said  Phyllida, 
with  a  groan,  and  they  went  on  their  way  in 
silence  to  the  cabin  that  they  called  home. 

It  was  on  the  "  outside  skirts  "  of  town,  Aunt 
Clotilda  said.  The  girls'  parents  lived  in  it,  and 
had  given  Phyllida  one  of  its  three  rooms  when 
her  husband's  paralytic  stroke  had  forced  him 
to  quit  preaching  and  become  dependent  on 
his  newly  married  wife.  Phyllida  had  worked 
her  slender  young  fingers  to  the  bone  for  him. 
She  had  taken  in  washing  until  her  strength 
failed  her  for  such  heavy  work;  she  had  gone 
out  sewing,  cooking, —  doing  anything  she 
could  find, —  to  return  at  night  to  her  half-help- 
less charge,  whom  his  disease  had  made  imbe- 
cile, and  to  care  for  him  like  a  baby. 

"  or  Mis' "  had  given  her  scant  help. 
"  PhyUida,"  she  had  said  to  her  two  years 
before,  when  the  girl  of  sixteen  had  been 
so  flattered  by  the  attentions  of  the  aging 
preacher,  and  so  proud  to  become  his  third 
wife — "  PhylHda,  I  have  told  you  once  and 
again  you  are  worse  than  foolish  to  think  of 
marrying  that  old  man.  A  preacher  is  not  an 
angel,  though  you  all  seem  to  imagine  so, 
and  he  is  obliged  to  grow  old  like  any  other 
man.  Does  his  being  a  preacher  make  him 
any  younger?  I  tell  you  plainly,  Phyllida,  if 
you  marry  that  old  man,  you  must  not  expect 
me  to  do  anything  for  you." 


788 


PHYLLIDA'S  MOURNING. 


Phyllida  had  burst  into  tears,  begged  Mrs. 
Rutledge  to  forgive  her,  left  the  house,  and 
married  her  preacher. 

Mrs.  Rutledge  had  relented  sufficiently 
toward  her  favorite  handmaiden,  the  daughter 
of  one  of  her  former  slaves,  to  send  her  a  sub- 
stantial wedding  present,  but  that  was  all. 
Phyllida  did  not  dare  go  to  see  her,  nor  did 
she  ever  send  for  Phyllida.  The  fact  that  she 
took  the  younger  daughter,  Narcissus,  and 
proceeded  to  train  her  up  to  till  her  sister's 
place  argued  nothing  more  than  that  she  pre- 
ferred to  have  around  her  the  "old-fashioned" 
kind  of  negroes,  as  she  phrased  it,  respectful 
and  docile,  as  any  children  of  Aunt  Clotilda 
were  sure  to  be.  Mrs.  Rutledge  had  small 
patience  for  the  class  of  flippant,  impertinent 
young  colored  girls  who  announce  a  negro 
huckster  to  the  mistress  as  a  "  gen'l'man  who 
wants  to  see  yo',"  and  refuse  to  live  in  a  house 
where  they  cannot  "  call  colored  people  ladies, 
and  white  folks  women." 

Narcissus  lacked  the  cleverness  and  good 
looks  of  her  sister,  but  she  was  quiet  and  in- 
dustrious, at  least.  If  Mrs.  Rutledge  revived 
the  time-honored  rule,  relaxed  in  favor  of  the 
trustworthy  Phyllida,  of  requiring  a  continuous 
whistling  to  be  kept  up  while  the  raisins  were 
being  stoned  for  fruit-cake,  it  was  not  that  she 
really  doubted  the  child,  but  thought  it  as  well 
to  take  precautions.  Narcissus  could  whistle  like 
any  mocking-bird,  and  these  involuntary  con- 
certs gave  pleasure  to  everyone  who  overheard 
them.  "  Only  Nonsense  stoning  raisins,"  Mrs. 
Rutledge  would  explain,  with  a  quiet  smile,  to 
any  visitor  who  remarked  the  music  in  the  air. 

As  months  went  by.  Narcissus  so  grew  in 
favor  that  her  mistress  began  to  have  a  comi- 
cally irreligious  dislike  to  her  going  to  church, 
fearing  that  a  taste  for  preachers  might  run  in 
the  family.  But  Narcissus  was  too  young  to 
develop  ministerial  tendencies  yet.  The  whole 
wealth  of  her  heart  was  lavished  in  dog-like 
devotion  upon  her  pretty,  unlucky  elder  sister, 
who  worked  so  hard  for  the  helpless  old  man 
and  had  so  little  pleasure.  I  cannot  say  Non- 
sense was  sorry  when  Brer  Brown  died.  Her 
chief  concern  was  Phyllida's  sorrow  that  she 
had  no  mourning  to  wear  for  the  much-revered 
preacher  husband.  Brer  Brown  had  belonged 
to  one  of  the  colored  burial  aid  societies,  which 
provided  for  his  funeral ;  but  the  little  means  of 
the  family  had  been  exhausted  during  his  long 
illness,  and  even  debts  incurred  that  rendered 
any  further  outlay  impossible. 

In  despair,  Phyllida  had  instructed  Nonsense 
to  apply  to  "  ol'  Mis',"  as  if  of  her  own  motion, 
for  the  loan,  just  for  the  funeral,  of  the  bon- 
net and  veil  which  Mrs.  Rutledge  had  herself 
worn  during  the  first  year  of  her  widowhood, 
and  which  now  lay  unused.     Mrs.  Rutledge 


had  responded  dryly  that  Phyllida's  husband's 
departure  was  not  to  be  mourned,  and  she  would 
lend  no  countenance  to  such  a  proceeding.  So 
Phyllida,  attaching  an  overstrained  importance 
to  the  matter,  had  hidden  herself  during  the 
funeral,  and  refused  to  appear  at  church  after- 
ward, or  even  on  the  street,  except  after  dark. 

Meanwhile  the  devoted  Narcissus  silently 
turned  the  question  over  and  over  in  the  depths 
of  her  loving  soul,  and  failed  to  discover  any 
expedient,  except  one,  before  which  she  stood 
aghast  at  first.  Her  sense  of  meum  and  tuum 
was  rather  undeveloped,  like  that  of  many  of 
the  formerly  enslaved  race,  but  their. sins  are 
principally  in  the  line  of  coveted  food,  and  cloth- 
ing is  another  and  more  awful  matter.  Yet  there 
lay  that  bonnet  and  veil,  and  an  old  black 
gown  besides,  of  no  use  to  any  one,  in  a  trunk 
without  a  lockinthe  empty  room  at  "ol'  Mis's," 
and  Narcissus  could  lay  her  little  brown  paws 
on  them  at  any  moment.  "  01'  Mis' "  would 
be  very  angry,  to  be  sure,  if  ever  she  found  it 
out,  and  "  ol'  Mis'  "  had  been  very  good  to  her ; 
but  how  had  she  treated  her  dear  Phyllida  ? 
The  small  heart  hardened. 

She  walked  to  her  work  the  next  morning 
with  her  usual  companion,  a  "  bright  mulatto  " 
girl,  who,  like  herself,  was  a  servant  in  one  of 
the  city  families,  and,  following  the  Southern 
custom,  went  to  her  own  home  every  night. 
Narcissus  had  much  respect  for  her  opinion, 
as  that  of  an  individual  some  years  older  than 
herself  who  had  had  the  proud  distinction  of 
one  term  and  a  half  at  the  "university." 

"  Lily,"  she  said  hesitatingly — "  Lily,  what 
you  reckon  't  is  to  steal  ?  " 

"  Oh,  go  'long,  you  no-'count  nigger,"  re- 
turned Mentor,  jocosely.  '"T  is  mighty  wicked 
to  steal;  dat  's  all  I  know  about  it." 

"  Sutney  '/  is  so,"  assented  Narcissus;  "but 
what  yo'  reckon  '/  is  to  steal  ?  Takin'  other 
folks's  t'ings  fo'  yo'se'f  ?  " 

"  'T  ain't  takin'  your  own  t'ings,  I  reckon," 
said  Lily,  smartly,  with  a  toss  of  the  head. 

"But  'lowin'  yo'  wants  'em  mighty  bad  — 
'lowin'  yo'  fieeds  'em  ?    Is  dat  stealin'  ?  " 

Lily  scratched  her  head  meditatively. 

"An'  'lowin'  dey  is  n'  fo'  yo'se'f  at  all,  dat 
can'  be  sure  'nough  stealin'?"  continued  Nar- 
cissus, anxiously. 

The  strain  was  too  much  for  Mentor's  pa- 
tience and  theological  knowledge,  and  she 
changed  the  subject. 

"  Here  come  I  on  my  two  chips," 

she  began  to  sing  airily, 

"  Who  's  goin'  to  kiss  my  ruby,  ruby  lips? 

"  Nonsense,  what  you  t'ink  I  heard  Sunday 
evening  ?  Bob  Sims  was  inquirin'  if  't  was 
any  use  to  try  to  fly  roun'  your  Phyllida." 


PHYLLIDA'S  MOURNING. 


789 


"  Fly  roun'  our  Phyllida  ?  "  repeated  Nar- 
cissus, in  dismayed  perplexity.  "  Phyllida  's  a 
widder." 

"  Huh,"  said  Lily,  "  dat  's  it.  I  dunno  wha' 
fo'  all  de  men  is  plum'  crazy  after  de  widders. 
Bob  Sims  say  he  'd  be  mighty  proud  of  de 
chance,  sure  'nough.  Den  Ike  Buzzard,  dat 
nigger  f 'om  de  sand-hills,  say  he  got  no  show- 
ance :  he  picked  out  dat  Phyllida  fo'  himself. 
Den  Bob  Sims  say  de  lady,  Rev'end  Mrs. 
Brown,  might  have  a  word  herself  to  say  'bout 
it.  'I  hope,'  he  say,  'dat  you  have  n't  de  least 
conception  dat  I  t'ink  you  're  a  gen'l'man, 
speakin'  dat  way  'bout  a  lady.'  An'  he  hoi'  his 
head  up  mighty  gran',  an'  walk  off." 

Narcissus  listened  to  the  recital  of  this  thrill- 
ing episode  with  wide-open  eyes  and  mouth. 
Before  she  could  enter  further  protest  against 
regarding  her  sister  in  any  other  Hght  than  that 
of  a  permanent  widow,  however,  Lily  arrived 
at  her  bourn,  and  disappeared  in  the  gateway 
of  one  of  the  large  old  houses,  with  wide  gal- 
leries half  hidden  in  green  luxuriance,  that 
lined  the  shady  street. 

Narcissus  went  on  a  block  farther,  to  the 
Rutledge  place.  It  was  a  mansion-house  of 
ante-bellum  days,  whose  ample,  vine-hung 
porch,  two-storied  verandas,  and  wide  encir- 
cling old-fashioned  garden,  its  paths  outlined 
with  tall  hedges  of  box,  gave  it  a  grand  air 
that  such  trifles  as  weather-worn  paint,  a 
broken  step,  or  a  paling  or  two  gone  from  the 
fence,  failed  to  disturb.  She  went  in,  and  en- 
tered upon  her  day's  work,  but  with  a  languid 
air  which  was  not  natural  to  her.  It  attracted 
Mrs.  Rutledge's  attention.  '■'■Do,  don't  be  so 
slow.  Nonsense,"  said  she  once.  "  Aren't  you 
well,  child  ?  " 

"Yes,  Miss  Lucy,"  returned  Narcissus,  am- 
biguously; and  she  made  a  desperate  spurt. for 
a  moment,  and  then  was  slower  than  ever. 
The  day  was  so  oppressive,  there  was  such  an 
unspeakable  dullness  in  the  air,  that  after  all 
it  was  not  to  be  wondered  at,  Mrs.  Rutledge 
thought. 

The  breathless  morning  wore  itself  out  at 
last,  and  the  still  more  breathless  afternoon  suc- 
ceeded it.  The  glowing  sun  dropped  wearily 
into  the  west,  lighting  up  the  fires  of  a  gorgeous 
sunset.  Mrs.  Rutledge  remarked  it,  as  she  sat 
in  the  great  hall,  where  the  doors  at  each  end 
stood  open  in  order  that  the  draft  might  draw 
what  air  there  was  to  be  caught  through  the 
screen  of  rose-vines.  It  was  usually  comfort- 
able here,  even  in  the  fiercest  weather,  but 
to-day  not  a  fold  of  her  voluminous  white 
wrapper  stirred. 

"(Dh,  Nonsense!"  she  called  from  her  rock- 
ing-chair. 

"  Yes,  Miss  Lucy,"  said  Narcissus,  appear- 
ing shadow-hke  in  the  doorway. 


"  Be  sure  you  open  the  blinds  up-stairs  be- 
fore you  go." 

"  Yes,  Miss  Lucy,"  said  Narcissus  again,  and 
slipped  noiselessly  up  the  ancient  staircase  run- 
ning around  three  sides  of  the  hall. 

Mrs.  Rutledge  rocked  on.  A  neighbor  came 
in  to  chat  for  a  few  minutes,  which  prolonged 
themselves  into  the  twilight  before  she  took 
leave.  "  Do  wait  a  moment,"  said  Mrs.  Rut- 
ledge. "  I  '11  have  Nonsense  gather  some  figs 
for  you.    Oh,  Nonsense  !  " 

But  no  Nonsense  answered.  Mrs.  Rutledge 
called  again. 

"  We  won't  wait  on  her.  She  must  have  gone 
home,"  she  said  at  last,  rising  ponderously,  with 
a  little  sigh,  "  though  I  scarcely  remember  her 
coming  down-stairs.  Let  me  take  you  out  into 
the  gyarden,  where  you  can  help  yourself."  And 
they  passed  out  through  the  glass  doors,  under 
the  great  rose-vine,  where  a  few  summer  La- 
marques  hung,  white  and  beautiful,  down  the 
broad  steps  into  the  old-time  garden. 

The  fire  had  long  since  burned  itself  out  in 
the  sky,  and  the  darkness  settled  down,  close, 
brooding,  and  sultry.  Up-stairs  in  the  empty 
room  a  little  brown  heap,  fast  asleep  behind  the 
trunk  that  contained  the  coveted  bonnet,  failed 
to  wake  when  the  first  darkness  would  have 
covered  a  soft  retreat.  And  the  dull  evening 
dragged  on. 

Somethingwaked  Narcissus  at  last.  It  might 
have  been  the  continuous  distressed  lowing  of 
the  cow,  or  the  wild  barking  of  dogs,  or  the 
excited  crowing  of  cocks  far  beyond  the  usual 
nocturnal  serenade.  It  might  have  been  the 
rumbling  of  a  heavy  train  of  cars  on  the  rail- 
road track  near  the  house.  In  any  case,  her 
cramped  position  recalled  to  her  instantly  where 
she  was,  and  the  darkness  wanied  her  she  had 
overslept.  She  sprang  up  and  opened  the  trunk, 
while  that  portentous  train  came  nearer  and 
nearer. 

Was  the  lid  bewitched  that  it  shook  so  in 
her  hand  ?  Every  negro  knew  the  old  Rutledge 
place  was  haunted.  Perhaps  she  was  steahng, 
after  all,  and  the  ghost  was  going  to  appear 
to  punish  her.  If  she  only  had  her  daddy's 
graveyard  rabbit-foot !  But  could  a  ghost  shake 
the  whole  room  till  the  windows  rattled  ?  What 
was  happening? 

With  one  spring,  the  child,  clutching  the  ill- 
omened  bonnet,  landed  in  the  entry,  and  es- 
sayed to  go  down  the  stairs.  They  rolled  from 
side  to  side,  like  a  ship  in  a  storm,  and  the  lighted 
lamp  in  the  hall  swung  to  and  fro,  pendulum- 
wise.  The  walls  seemed  to  beat  her  against  the 
balusters,  and  the  balusters  to  toss  her  back 
against  the  walls,  a  hel  pless  shuttlecock  between 
two  battledores.  She  threw  the  bonnet  on  her 
head,  and  clung  to  the  rail,  shrieking  aloud  in 
terror.    From  the  negro  settlement  in  the  hoi- 


79° 


PHYLLIDA'S  MOURNING. 


low  below  the  house  floated  up  cries  of  "  Lohd, 
hab  mercy ! "  and  more  inarticulate  screams 
and  howls  of  despair. 

"'T  is  de  Judgmen'  Day!"  gasped  Nar- 
cissus, reeling  down  the  rocking  stairs,  and 
falling  at  the  feet  of  her  mistress,  who  came 
hurrying  from  her  chamber  at  that  instant. 
The  Httle  brown  figure,  crowned  by  the  pre- 
posterous bonnet  with  its  veil  trailing  on  the 
floor,  clasped  her  knees  with  the  strength  of 
desperation  and  would  not  relax  its  hold. 

"  De  Judgmen'  Day!  de  Judgmen'  Day!" 
she  sobbed.  "  Sen'  it  away.  Miss  Lucy!  sen'  it 
away!  It  done  come  'cause  I  so  bad  —  I  '11 
never  steal  no  mo'.     Do  sen'  it  away!" 

"  Let  go,  child,"  said  Mrs.  Rutledge,  sharply, 
freeing  herself  by  force.  "  We  must  get  out  of 
the  house  ;  it 's  an  earthquake!  " 

But  the  event  was  equally  terrifying,  what- 
ever name  it  bore,  and  Narcissus's  knees  gave 
way  under  her,  so  that  she  was  dragged,  rather 
than  led,  out  the  door  and  to  the  brink  of  the 
long  flight  of  steps.  Her  foot  caught  in  the  long 
veil,  she  lost  her  balance  and  fell,  jerking  her 
hand  from  Mrs.  Rutledge's  grasp.  Down,  down, 
she  went,  over  and  over,  wound  and  wrapped 
and  twisted  in  the  length  of  the  fatal  veil,  strik- 
ing each  separate  stair  with  a  distinct  thud, 
till  she  reached  the  bottom.  Then  dead  silence. 

Mrs.  Rutledge,  her  eyes  dazzled  by  coming 
from  the  lighted  house,  looked  off  into  the 
darkness,  and  saw  nothing.  "  Nonsense,"  she 
cried  anxiously,  "  where  are  you  ?  " 

She  descended  by  a  more  stately  stepping 
than  her  handmaiden.  "  Narcissus  !  "  she  called 
again,  as  she  set  foot  on  terra  firma,  which  now 
once  more  merited  the  name.  Fright  made  her 
voice  hoarse  and  unnatural. 

Something  low  and  dark  raised  itself  up 
painfully  before  her.  As  her  eyes  became  ac- 
customed to  the  night,  she  could  dimly  discern 
her  small  servant  kneeling  at  her  feet  with 
clasped  hands,  a  little  Samuel  in  bronze. 

"  Heah,  Mars'  Angel  Gabriel,"  said  she,  sol- 
emnly. 

"  Narcissus !  "  said  Mrs.  Rutledge  once 
more,  fearing  the  fall  had  shaken  the  child's 
wits  as  well  as  her  body. 

"  Heah  I  am,  Mars'  Angel  Gabriel,"  re- 
peated Narcissus  in  the  same  awe-struck  tone, 
raising  her  eyes  to  the  tall  white  figure  loom- 
ing over  her.  Mrs.  Rutledge  had  been  forced 
to  appear  on  the  scene  in  a  somewhat  im- 
promptu costume.  "  O  good  Mars'  Angel 
Gabriel,  I  did  reckon  't  was  n't  plum'  stealin' 
when  't  was  for  PhylHda,  but  now  I  s'pect  it 
was.    I  never — " 

"  Nonsense  !  "  cried  Mrs.  Rutledge,  giving 
her  a  little  shake.    "  Don't  you  know  me  ? 


What  are  you  talking  about  ?  What  did  you 
have  on  your  head  in  the  hall  ?  " 

Narcissus  started  as  the  voice  became  once 
more  familiar  to  her.  She  stooped  and  felt 
about  on  the  ground  for  something  which  she 
at  last  found  and  held  up  toward  her  mistress 
—  a  something  battered  and  shapeless,  from 
which  a  long  ragged  tail  dangled  dismally. 

'■'■  Dis!  "  she  said. 

All  the  tragedy  of  the  crime  that  thwarts 
its  own  ends  was  in  her  tone. 

Some  months  afterward,  one  bright  after- 
noon when  the  great  earthquake  was  a  thing 
of  the  past,  a  light  tap  sounded  at  the  door  of 
Mrs.  Rutledge's  room. 

"  Come  in,"  she  said.  There  was  a  slight 
hesitation,  and  then,  to  her  surprise,  Phyllida 
entered, —  a  transformed,  glorified  Phyllida, 
whose  fresh  crape  bonnet  and  veil  framed  in 
a  face  bewitching  with  suppressed  excitement. 
Her  long  eyelashes  swept  the  dark-olive  cheek 
with  a  certain  demure  consciousness,  and  be- 
trayed the  radiance  of  the  downcast  eyes. 

"Phyllida!  I  had  no  idea  it  was  you,"  said 
Mrs.  Rutledge,  not  unkindly,  though  a  rem- 
nant of  her  old  deep-seated  wrath  at  the  notion 
of  mourning  for  Brother  Brown  sdrred  in  her 
breast. 

"  Howdy,  Miss  Lucy?"  said  Phyllida,  with 
some  traces  of  embarrassment.  "  How  's  all?" 

"  We  're  right  well.  I  know  you  are  all  well 
at  home,  or  Nonsense  would  have  told  me." 

"  We  're  tol'ble,"  said  PhyUida,  fingering 
her  handsome  black  dress  with  nervous  hands. 

"  I  suppose  you  have  come  to  show  me  your 
new  mourning?"  said  Mrs.  Rutledge,  relent- 
ing somewhat,  touched  by  the  girl's  evident 
discomfort.  "It  becomes  you, Phyllida.  How 
did  you  contrive  to  get  it  ?  " 

"  My  husban'  give  it  to  me,  Miss  Lucy,"  said 
Phyllida,  without  raising  her  eyes. 

"  Voi/r  hnsband!'"  echoed  Mrs.  Rutledge, 
not  without  a  blood-curdling  premonition  of 
a  new  species  of  ghost-story. 

"  Yes,  Miss  Lucy.  Bob  Sims.  I  was  mar- 
ried to  him  last  Saturday.  He  give  me  de 
mo'nin'  fo'  a  weddin'  gif '.  I  tol'  Nonsense  not 
to  tell  yo'.  I  wanted  to  surprise  yo'.  I  thought 
yo'  'd  be  please  dis  time  ?  " — pleadingly. 

Mrs.  Rutledge  was  silent  for  a  moment  as 
she  bent  her  head  over  her  work.  Then  she 
said,  her  voice  tremulous  with  some  sort  of 
emotion,  "PhyUida,  I  —  I  congratulate  you. 
There  can  be  no  doubt  that  such  a  considerate 
bridegroom  will  make  a  good  husband." 

And  Nonsense,  standing  in  the  doorway, 
shadowlike  but  triumphant,  felt  that  the  awful 
memory  of  the  night  of  the  earthquake  was  the 
one  flaw  in  the  splendor  of  this  scene. 


Grace  Wilbur  Conant. 


TOPICS    OF    THE    TIME. 


A  New  Edition  of 
"The  Century's"  Cheap-Money  Papers. 

IN  compliance  with  many  requests  for  an  edition  in 
larger  type  and  more  enduring  form,  the  articles  on 
"Cheap-Money  Experiments,"  which  appeared  origi- 
nally in  this  department  of  The  Century,  and  were 
afterward  collected  and  republished  in  a  pamphlet,  have 
been  again  republished  by  The  Century  Co.  in  an  at- 
tractive volume.  It  is  printed  in  large,  clear  type,  and 
neatly  bound  in  cloth.  vSome  additional  chapters,  which 
have  appeared  in  The  Century  since  the  publication 
of  the  pamphlet,  have  been  added.  In  its  amended 
form  the  book  is,  even  more  than  the  pamphlet  was,  a 
compact  and  comprehensive  handbook  of  the  most 
notable  attempts  which  have  been  made  in  past  and 
present  times  to  attain  State  or  national  prosperity  by 
making  money  "cheap  and  plentiful."  No  similar  com- 
pilation is  to  be  found  in  the  whole  range  of  economic 
literature. 

In  calling  attention  to  this  new  publication  of  the 
"  Cheap-Money  "  articles,  it  is  pleasant  to  record  the 
fact  that  since  their  first  publication  a  death-blow  has 
been  formally  administered  to  the  Free-Silver  heresy, 
which,  in  many  respects,  was  the  most  dangerous 
"cheap-money"'  delusion  that  ever  confronted  the 
American  people. 

In  writing  about  the  evils  which  free  silver  coinage 
would  entail,  in  The  Century'  for  May  last,  we  said: 

No  great  party  in  the  United  States,  in  national  con- 
vention assembled,  will  dare  make  itself  responsible  for 
the  distress  that  would  fall  upon  the  masses  of  our  popula- 
tion from  free  and  unlimited  silver  coinage. 

The  national  conventions  of  the  two  great  parties  have 
verified  this  prediction  by  putting  into  their  platforms 
such  explicit  declarations  against  free  silver  coinage  as  to 
eliminate  the  question  completely  from  the  campaign. 
After  their  action  it  is  safe  to  say  that  the  danger  of  the 
free  and  unlimited  coinage  of  a  debased  silver  dollar 
has  passed  away,  probably  forever.  The  question  has 
been  taken  out  of  politics,  and  it  would  be  well  for  the 
country  if  all  other  financial  questions  could  be  taken 
out  ^^'ith  it.  In  a  thoughtful,  intelligent,  and  patriotic 
address  which  he  made  on  "  The  Silver  Question  in  its 
Relations  to  Legislation,"  before  the  Iroquois  Club 
of  Chicago,  in  March  of  last  year,  Mr.  James  Herron 
Eckels  stated  this  point  in  words  which  we  cannot 
do  better  than  quote  as  summing  up  accurately  and 
forcibly  the  only  sound  view  to  be  taken  : 

I  am  not  unconscious  of  the  fact  that  in  and  of  itself 
this  question  has  no  place  in  politics.  Under  right  and 
proper  circumstances,  its  solution  belongs  to  the  professed 
financier,  and  not  to  the  professed  politician;  but,  unfor- 
tunately, those  circumstances  do  not  now  surround  it. 
Through  an  error  that  in  the  past  has  been  costly,  and  in 
the  future  bids  fair  to  be  fraught  with  disaster,  it  has  been 
taken  out  of  the  list  of  business  issues  and  thrust  among 
those  of  a  political  character;  and  with  regard  to  its  politi- 
cal bearing  rather  than  with  reference  to  its  effect  upon 
the  material  interests  of  our  countr}',  it  is  being  presented 
to  the  people. 


The  French  Assignats  and  Mandats. 

It  would  have  been  reasonable  to  suppose  that  the  ex- 
perience which  France  had  with  cheap  money  under 
John  Law's  guidance  in  the  early  part  of  the  eighteenth 
century,  as  described  lately  in  these  columns,  would 
have  imparted  a  lesson  not  soon  forgotten.  But  such 
was  not  the  case.  Before  the  end  of  the  century  a  new 
and  not  dissimilar  experiment  was  made  in  the  same 
direction,  ending,  like  its  predecessor,  in  failure  and 
almost  boundless  confusion  and  disaster. 

One  of  the  first  and  most  serious  troubles  which  con- 
fronted the  republic  estabhshed  by  the  French  Revolu- 
tion of  1789  was  the  scarcity  of  money.  This  was  due 
to  many  causes,  but  chiefly,  says  Thiers,  to  the  "  want 
of  confidence  occasioned  by  the  disturbances."  The 
same  authority  adds  the  following  general  truth  about 
circulation,  which  is  applicable  to  all  countries  and  in 
all  times :  "  Specie  is  apparent  by  the  circulation. 
When  confidence  prevails,  the  activity  of  exchange  is 
extreme ;  money  moves  about  rapidly,  is  seen  every- 
where, and  is  believed  to  be  more  considerable  because 
it  is  more  serN-iceable :  but  when  political  commotions 
create  alarm,  capital  languishes,  specie  moves  slowly; 
it  is  frequently  hoarded,  and  complaints  are  unjustly 
made  of  its  absence. "  To  increase  the  supply  of  circu- 
lating medium,  it  was  proposed  that  the  National  As- 
sembly issue  paper  money  based  on  the  Church  lands 
which  had  been  confiscated  by  the  Government.  These 
lands  were  jaelding  no  revenue,  but  were  a  heavy  bur- 
den. The  money,  to  be  called  assignats,  was  really  a 
form  of  titles  to  the  confiscated  lands ;  for  it  was  re- 
ceivable in  payment  for  them,  and  was  designed,  in  ad- 
dition to  furnishing  revenue  to  the  Government,  to 
bring  about  a  distribution  of  those  lands  among  the  peo- 
ple. The  debates  of  the  National  Assembly  upon  the 
proposition  showed  that  John  Law's  experiment  had 
not  been  entirely  forgotten.  There  was  strong  opposi- 
tion, but  it  was  overcome  by  arguments  that  bear  a 
curious  resemblance  to  some  which  are  heard  in  our  day 
in  favor  of  various  forms  of  cheap  money  which  are  ad- 
vocated for  the  United  States.  "  Paper  money,"  said 
one  of  the  advocates  of  the  assignats,  "  under  a  despot- 
ism is  dangerous ;  it  favors  corruption :  but  in  a  nation 
constitutionally  governed,  which  takes  care  of  its  own 
notes,  which  determines  their  number  and  use,  that 
danger  no  longer  exists."  How  like  that  is  to  the  argu- 
ment heard  here,  and  in  the  Argentine  Republic  as 
well,  that  a  great  and  rich  and  prosperous  and  free  na- 
tion could  make  its  own  economic  laws,  invent  its  own 
monetary  systems,  and  even  defy  the  teachings  of  all 
other  nations  with  entire  safety !  These  curious  argu- 
ments carried  the  day  in  the  National  Assembly,  and 
a  first  issue  of  assignats,  to  the  value  of  400,000,000 
francs,  was  issued  in  December,  1789.  They  bore  in- 
terest, and  were  made  payable  at  sight,  but  no  interest 
was  ever  paid,  and  subsequent  issues  had  no  interest 
pro\'ision.  The  first  issue  represented  about  one  fifth 
of  the  total  value  of  the  confiscated  lands. 

Yet  with  this  solid  basis  of  value  upon  which  to  rest. 


79^ 


TOPICS   OF  THE    TIME. 


the  assignats  never  circulated  at  par.  A  few  months 
after  the  first  issue,  demands  began  to  be  made  for  a 
second  issue,  as  is  invariably  the  case  in  all  experiments 
of  this  kind.  Talleyrand  opposed  the  second  issue  in  a 
speech  of  great  ability,  many  of  whose  passages  have 
passed  into  economic  literature  as  model  statements  of 
fundamental  monetary  principles.  "  The  assignat,"  he 
said, "  considered  as  a  title  of  credit,  has  a  positive  and 
material  value;  this  value  of  the  assignat  is  precisely 
the  same  as  that  of  the  land  which  it  represents  :  but 
still  it  must  be  admitted,  above  all,  that  never  will  any 
national  paper  be  upon  a  par  with  the  metals ;  never 
will  the  supplementary  sign  of  the  first  representative 
sign  of  wealth  have  the  exact  value  of  its  model;  the  very 
title  proves  want,  and  want  spreads  alarm  and  distrust 
around  it."  And  again:  "You  can  arrange  it  so  that 
people  shall  be  forced  to  take  a  thousand  francs  in 
paper  for  a  thousand  francs  in  specie,  but  you  never  can 
arrange  it  so  that  the  people  shall  be  obliged  to  give 
a  thousand  francs  in  specie  for  a  thousand  francs  in 
paper."  Still  again  :  "  Assignat  money,  however  safe, 
however  solid,  it  may  be,  is  an  abstraction  of  paper 
money;  it  is  consequently  but  the  free  or  forced  sign, 
not  of  wealth,  but  merely  of  credit."  In  answer  to  the 
arguments  of  Talleyrand,  the  most  effective,  because 
most  "  taking, "  argument,  if  argument  it  can  be  called, 
was  the  following  by  Mirabeau :  "  It  is  in  vain  to  com- 
pare assignats,  secured  on  the  solid  basis  of  these  do- 
mains,to  an  ordinary  paper  currencypossessing  a  forced 
circulation.  They  represent  real  property,  the  most 
secure  of  all  possessions,  the  land  on  which  we  tread." 

The  advocates  of  money  based  on  lands  who  are 
heard  in  our  country  to-day  will  recognize  their  own 
doctrine  in  this  resounding  phrase  of  Mirabeau.  It  car- 
ried the  day  in  the  National  Assembly,  and  in  Septem- 
ber, 1 790,  a  second  issue  of  assignats,  to  the  value  of 
800,000,000  francs,  bearing  no  interest,  was  ordered. 

The  decree  for  this  second  issue  contained  a  pledge 
that  in  no  case  should  the  amount  of  assignats  exceed 
twelve  hundred  millions.  Eut  the  nation  was  drunk 
with  its  own  stimulant,  and  pledges  were  of  no  value. 
In  fune,  1791,  a  third  issue  of  600,000,000  was  ordered. 
This  was  followed  soon  afterward  by  a  fourth  issue  of 
300,000,000,  and  by  a  new  pledge  that  the  total  amount 
should  never  be  allowed  to  exceed  sixteen  hundred  mil- 
Uons.  But  this  pledge,  like  two  others  that  had  been 
made  before  it,  was  broken  as  soon  as  a  demand  for 
more  issues  became  irresistible.  Fresh  issues  followed 
one  another  in  rapid  succession  in  1 792,  and  at  the  close 
of  that  year  an  official  statement  was  put  forth  that  a 
total  of  thirty-four  hundred  millions  had  been  issued, 
of  which  six  hundred  millions  had  been  destroyed, 
leaving  twenty-eight  hundred  millions  in  circulation. 

Specie  had  disappeared  from  circulation  soon  after 
the  second  issue,  and  the  value  of  the  assignats  began 
to  go  steadily  and  rapidly  downward.  Business  and 
industry  soon  felt  the  effects,  and  the  inevitable  col- 
lapse followed.  Ex-  President  Andrew  D.  White,  whose 
tract,  "  Paper  Money  Inflation  in  France,"  is  the  most 
admirable  and  complete  statement  of  this  experience 
which  has  been  published,  says  of  the  situation  at  this 
stage : 

What  the  bigotry  of  Louis  XIV.,  and  the  shiftlessness 
of  Louis  XV.,  could  not  do  in  nearly  a  century,  was  ac- 
complished by  this  tampering  with  the  currency  in  a  few 
months.  Everything  that  tariffs  and  custom-houses  could 


do  was  done.  Still  the  great  manufactories  of  Normandy 
were  closed  ;  those  of  the  rest  of  the  kingdom  speedily  fol- 
lowed, and  vast  numbers  of  workmen,  in  all  parts  of  the 
country,  were  thrown  out  of  employment. 

In  the  spring  of  1791  no  one  knew  whether  a  piece  of 
paper  money,  representing  100  francs,  would,  a  month 
later,  have  a  purchasing  power  of  100  francs,  or  90  francs, 
or  80,  or  60.  The  result  was  that  capitalists  declined  to 
embark  their  means  in  business.  Enterprise  received  a 
mortal  blow.  Demand  for  labor  was  still  further  dimin- 
ished. The  business  of  France  dwindled  into  a  mere  liv- 
ing from  hand  to  mouth.  This  state  of  things,  too,  while 
it  bore  heavily  against  the  interests  of  the  moneyed  classes, 
was  still  more  ruinous  to  those  in  more  moderate,  and 
most  of  all  to  those  in  straitened,  circumstances.  With  the 
masses  of  the  people  the  purchase  of  every  article  of  sup- 
ply became  a  speculation  — a  speculation  in  which  the  pro- 
fessional speculator  had  an  immense  advantage  over  the 
buyer.  Says  the  most  brilliant  apologist  for  French  Revo- 
lutionary statesmanship,  "  Commerce  was  dead  ;  betting 
took  its  place." 

In  the  early  part  of  1792  the  assignat  was  30  per 
cent,  below  par.  In  the  following  year  it  had  fallen 
to  67  per  cent,  below  par.  A  basis  for  further  issues 
was  secured  by  the  confiscation  of  lands  of  emigrant 
nobles,  and  a  flood  of  assignats  poured  forth  upon  the 
country  in  steadily  increasing  volume.  Before  the  close 
of  1794  seven  thousand  millions  had  been  issued,  and 
the  year  1796  opened  with  a  total  issue  of  forty-five 
thousand  millions,  of  which  thirty-six  thousand  millions 
were  in  actual  circulation.  By  February  of  that  year 
the  total  issue  had  advanced  to  45,500,000,000,  and  the 
value  had  dropped  to  one  two-hundred-and-sixty-fifth 
part  of  their  nominal  value.  A  note  professing  to  be 
worth  about  $20  of  our  money  was  worth  about  six 
cents. 

The  Government  now  came  forward  with  a  new 
scheme,  offering  to  redeem  the  assignats,  on  the  basis 
of  30  to  I,  for  mandats,  a  new  form  of  paper  money, 
which  entitled  the  holder  to  take  immediate  possession, 
at  their  estimated  value,  of  any  of  the  lands  pledged  by 
the  assignats.  Eight  hundred  millions  in  mandats  were 
issued,  to  be  exchanged  for  the  assignats,  and  the  plates 
for  printing  the  latter  were  destroyed.  Six  hundred 
millions  more  of  mandats  were  issued  for  the  public 
service.  At  first  the  mandats  circulated  at  as  high  as 
80  per  cent,  of  their  nominal  value,  but  additional  is- 
sues sent  them  down  in  value  even  more  rapidly  than 
the  assignats  had  fallen,  and  in  a  very  short  time  they 
were  worth  only  one  thousandth  part  of  their  nominal 
value.  It  was  evident  that  the  end  had  come.  Before 
the  assignats  were  withdrawn,  the  Government  resorted 
to  various  expedients  to  hold  up  their  value  by  legisla- 
tive decrees.  The  use  of  coin  was  prohibited  ;  a  maxi- 
mum price  in  assignats  was  fixed  for  commodities  by 
law;  the  purchase  of  specie  was  forbidden  under  pen- 
alty of  imprisonment  in  irons  for  six  years  ;  and  the 
sale  of  assignats  below  their  nominal  value  was  for- 
bidden under  penalty  of  imprisonment  for  twenty  years 
in  chains.  Investment  of  capital  in  foreign  countries 
was  punishable  with  death.  All  these  efforts  were  as 
futile  as  similar  efforts  had  been  in  John  Law's  time. 
The  value  of  the  assignats  went  steadily  down.  Bread- 
riots  broke  out  in  Paris,  and  the  Government  was  com- 
pelled to  supply  the  capital  with  provisions.  When  the 
mandats  fell,  as  the  assignats  had  fallen  before  them, 
the  Government  was  convinced  that  it  was  useless  to 
try  to  give  value  to  valueless  paper  by  simply  printing 
more  paper  and  calling  it  by  another  name ;  and  on 
July  I,  1796,  it  swept  away  the  whole  mass  by  issuing 


TOPICS   OF  THE    TIME. 


793 


a  decree  authorizing  everybody  to  transact  business  in 
any  money  he  chose.  "  No  sooner,"  says  Mr.  McLeod, 
in  his  "  Economical  Philosophy,"  "  was  this  great  blow 
struck  at  the  paper  currency,  of  making  it  pass  at  its 
current  value,  than  specie  immediately  reappeared  in 
circulation."  In  commenting  upon  this  second  expe- 
rience of  France  with  paper  money,  which  lasted  for 
about  six  years,  Prof.  A.  L.  Perry,  in  his  "  Elements 
of  Political  Economy,"  thus  graphically  and  truthfully 
sums  up  the  consequences  : 

The  distress  and  consternation  into  which  a  country 
falls  when  its  current  measure  of  services  is  disturbed 
and  destroyed,  as  it  was  in  this  case,  is  past  all  powers  of 
description.  The  prisons  and  the  guillotine  did  not  com- 
pare with  the  assignats  in  causing  suffering  during  those 
six  years.  This  example  is  significant  because  it  shows 
the  powerlessness  of  even  the  strongest  and  most  unscru- 
pulous governments  to  regulate  the  value  of  anything. 
The  assignats  were  depreciating  during  the  very  months 
in  which  Robespierre  and  the  Committee  of  Public  Safety 
were  wielding  the  power  of  life  and  death  in  France  with 
terrific  energy.  They  did  their  utmost  to  stop  the  sinking 
of  the  Revolutionary  paper.  But  value  knows  its  own  laws, 
and  follows  them  in  spite  of  decrees  and  penalties. 

Campaign  Blackmailing  of  Government  Clerks. 

Mr.  Theodore  Roosevelt,  speaking  in  the  name 
of  the  National  Civil  Service  Commission,  issued  a 
timely  warning  in  the  July  "  Atlantic  "  against  all  levy- 
ing of  assessments  upon  governmental  employees  dur- 
ing the  presidential  campaign.  He  wrote  with  char- 
acteristic plainness  and  force,  and  set  forth  both  the 
law  in  the  case  and  the  attitude  of  the  Commission  to- 
ward offenders  with  such  clearness  that  his  utterance 
cannot  fail  to  have  a  restraining  influence  upon  all  per- 
sons tempted  to  violate  the  statute. 

As  he  pointed  out,  the  law  seeks  to  provide  both  for 
the  protection  of  the  office-holder  and  for  the  punish- 
ing of  the  politician  who  seeks  to  get  from  him  a  por- 
tion of  his  salary.  It  provides,  under  heavy  penalties, 
that  no  office-holder  shall  in  any  way  solicit  or  receive 
assessments  or  contributions  for  political  purposes  from 
any  other  office-holder ;  that  no  person,  office-holder 
or  otherwise,  shall  solicit  such  contribution  in  any  fed- 
eral building ;  that  no  office-holder  shall  in  any  way  be 
jeopardized  in  his  position  for  contributing  or  refusing 
to  contribute,  as  he  sees  fit ;  and  that  no  office-holder 
shall  give  any  money  to  another  office-holder  for  the 
promotion  of  any  political  object  whatever. 

It  is  well  to  give  these  provisions  the  widest  possible 
publicity  at  this  time,  in  order  that  all  men  may  become 
familiar  with  them  and  act  accordingly.  Mr.  Roosevelt 
gives  emphatic  assurance  that  the  Commission  will  pro- 
tect all  office-holders  whose  positions  are  threatened 
because  of  refusal  to  contribute,  and  will  ask  the  in- 
dictment and  recommend  the  dismissal  of  all  superiors 
in  the  service  who  attempt  any  intimidation  of  subor- 
dinates. He  invites  complaints  of  all  instances  in  which 
contributions  are  solicited,  promising  to  treat  them  as 
confidential  and  to  endeavor  to  punish  the  guilty  per- 
son without  revealing  the  identity  of  the  informant. 
He  also  declares  that  it  is  the  intention  of  the  Com- 
mission during  the  present  campaign,  whenever  it  finds 
an  individual  or  an  organization  trying  to  assess  Gov- 
ernment office-holders,  publicly,  through  the  press,  to 
call  the  attention  of  everybody  to  what  is  being  done. 


and  to  invite  any  information  which  will  enable  the 
Commission  to  prosecute  the  offenders. 

In  regard  to  the  practice  which  has  prevailed  in  some 
recent  campaigns,  of  sending  circulars  from  State  or 
National  committees  to  the  private  residences  of  of- 
fice-holders, instead  of  to  the  public  buildings  in  which 
they  are  employed,  thus  evading  the  letter  of  the  law, 
while  violating  its  spirit,  Mr.  Roosevelt  says  the  Com- 
mission will  also  call  public  attention  to  every  case  of 
this  kind  which  it  discovers,  and  will  assure  all  Gov- 
ernment employees  that  they  can  disregard  all  such  ap- 
peals without  fear  of  losing  their  places. 

These  are  all  public-spirited  purposes,  and  no  one 
familiar  with  Mr.  Roosevelt  will  doubt  that  he  will  ad- 
here to  them  with  vigor  and  determination.  The  prac- 
tice is  an  abominable  injustice,  and  ought  not  to  be 
allowed  in  a  single  instance.  It  does  not  prevail  to 
anything  like  the  extent  to  which  it  was  carried  before 
the  present  law  was  enacted,  but  the  evil  is  by  no  means 
abolished.  Fear  of  loss  of  place,  or  chance  of  promo- 
tion, impels  many  a  clerk  to  give  who  would  never 
contribute  a  penny  could  he  feel  assured  that  his  re- 
fusal would  have  no  effect  upon  his  tenure  or  prospects. 
The  hardship  which  such  extortion  entails  is  pictured 
\'ividly,  but  with  entire  truthfulness,  by  Mr.  Roosevelt 
in  the  following  passages  : 

Government  employees,  as  a  whole,  are  hard-working, 
not  overpaid  men,  with  families  to  support,  and  there  is 
no  meaner  species  of  swindling  than  to  blackmail  them 
for  the  sake  of  a  political  organization.  The  contribution, 
moreover,  is  extorted  from  them  at  a  time  when  it  is  often 
peculiarly  difficult  for  them  to  pay.  To  take  away  two  per 
cent,  of  a  man's  salary  just  at  the  beginning  of  winter  may 
mean  that  he  will  have  to  go  without  a  winter  overcoat,  or 
his  wife  and  children  without  the  warm  clothing  which  is 
almost  a  necessity. 

Moreover,  it  is  the  poorest  and  most  helpless  class  who 
are  most  apt  to  be  coerced  into  paying.  In  several  inves- 
dgations  undertaken  by  the  Commission,  we  found  that 
it  was  women  who  were  most  certain  to  pay,  and  that  the 
women  opposed  in  political  faith  to  the  administration 
were  even  more  apt  to  pay  than  the  others. 

Can  any  self-respecting  person  read  that  and  not 
flush  with  indignation  that  such  things  are  possible  un- 
der a  free,  popular  government  ?  Could  there  be  a 
meaner  or  more  despicable  business  for  a  man  or  a 
party  to  be  engaged  in  than  this  levying  of  political 
blackmail  upon  hard-working,  deserving,  and  poorly 
paid  men  and  women  ?  Mr.  Roosevelt  is  right  in  think- 
ing that  publicity  will  be  a  powerful  weapon  to  use 
against  all  men  caught  in  this  business.  The  American 
people  would  be  made  of  poor  stuff  indeed  if  they  did 
not  arise  in  wrath  against  such  unworthy  specimens 
of  their  race.  The  abuse  has  been  tolerated  only  be- 
cause the  public  attention  has  not  been  aroused  to  it. 
Let  us  have  the  names  of  the  offenders,  and  specifica- 
tions of  their  offenses,  published  to  the  world,  no  mat- 
ter how  high  they  may  stand  in  official  life,  and  the 
thorough  extermination  of  the  evil  will  be  soon  ac- 
complished. 

Mr.  Roosevelt  gives  a  valuable  hint  to  the  extor- 
tioners, at  the  close  of  his  article,  by  reminding  them 
that  in  case  of  a  defeat  of  their  party  at  the  polls  in  No- 
vember, it  will  be  much  easier  to  obtain  evidence  against 
them  from  their  victims  after  election,  than  it  would 
be  were  the  party  to  succeed. 


Vol.  XLIV.— 104. 


OPEN    LETTERS. 


The  Crisis  of  the  Civil  War. 

AT  the  celebration  of  the  opening  of  the  Northern 
l\  Pacific  Railroad,  of  which  I  was  at  that  time  the  gen- 
eral manager,  two  of  the  guests  present  were  President 
Chester  A.  Arthur  and  Secretary  of  War  Robert  Lin- 
coln. Mr.  Lincoln  sent  for  me  with  a  request  for  a  brief 
interview,  and  stated  that  he  desired  information  upon 
a  subject  that  had  elicited  much  discussion,  and  upon 
which  a  careful  examination  of  the  war  records,  both 
of  telegrams  and  letters,  failed  to  throw  any  light.  He 
said  that  upon  entering  his  father's  room  one  morning, 
just  after  the  battle  of  Gettysburg,  he  found  him  in 
great  distress,  and  upon  inquiring  the  cause,  the  Presi- 
dent stated  that  information  had  just  been  received 
from  General  Haupt  that  General  Meade  had  no  inten- 
tion immediately  of  following  up  his  advantage ;  that 
he  intended  to  rest  for  several  days ;  that  without  an 
immediate  movement  of  the  army  the  enemy  would  be 
permitted  to  cross  the  Potomac  and  escape;  that  the 
fruits  of  victory  would  be  lost  and  the  war  indefinitely 
prolonged.  He  asked  if  I  had  sent  any  letters,  tele- 
grams, or  other  communications  in  which  this  informa- 
tion had  been  given. 

I  replied  that  I  had  communicated  such  information 
either  to  the  President  or  to  General  Halleck,  but  in 
what  way  I  could  not  then  remember. 

Two  years  ago  I  commenced  to  write  the  memoirs 
of  the  operations  of  the  Military  Railroad  Construction 
Corps,  and  in  one  of  my  letter-books  found  a  full  and 
satisfactory  explanation.  From  this  it  appears  that  after 
spending  the  forenoon  of  Sunday,  the  day  following 
Lee's  retreat,  with  General  Meade,  I  took  an  engine  the 
same  evening  and  repaired  to  Washington  and  as  early 
as  possible  on  Monday  morning  made  personal  report 
to  General  Halleck;  informed  him  of  the  situation  and 
the  conclusions  I  had  reached,  that,  unless  General 
Meade  could  be  induced  to  change  his  plans  and  move 
immediately,  the  enemy  would  certainly  cross  the  river 
and  escape.  It  was,  no  doubt,  immediately  after  this 
interview  that  General  Halleck  called  on  the  President 
and  communicated  the  information  that  gave  him  so 
much  distress. 

The  President  and  General  Halleck  have  been  se- 
verely criticized  in  some  quarters  for  the  words  of  cen- 
sure sent  to  General  Meade,  which,  it  was  claimed,  did 
injustice  to  a  gallant  officer  who  had  performed  services 
of  the  highest  value.  Certain  it  is  that  the  predictions  in 
regard  to  the  escape  of  Lee  were  verified :  he  was  not 
disturbed  for  ten  days  ;  he  crossed  the  Potomac  July 
14,  1863,  and  the  war,  which,  in  my  opinion,  might  have 
been  then  substantially  ended,  was  prolonged  fir  two 
years  with  immense  sacrifice  of  blood  and  treasure. 

As  the  battle  of  Gettysburg  was  the  turning-point  in 
the  great  struggle,  and  as  antecedent  events  with  which 
no  one  now  living  is  familiar  except  myself  had  ap- 
parently an  important  influence  upon  the  result,  my 
friends  insist  that  it  is  a  duty  to  place  certain  facts  on 
record. 


The  position  that  I  held  in  1862  and  1863  was  that 
of  Chief  of  the  Bureau  of  Military  Railroads,  charged 
with  the  duty  of  constructing,  reconstructing,  and  operat- 
ing all  railroads  used  by  the  Government  in  the  active 
operations  of  the  war,  but  especially  in  Virginia,  Mary- 
land, and  Pennsylvania,  where  I  directed  operations 
personally.  I  reported  directly  to  the  Secretary  of  War 
and  to  General  Halleck,  but  necessarily  kept  in  constant 
communication  with  the  general  in  command  of  the 
army  in  the  field,  that  I  might  know  his  plans,  his  re- 
quirements in  the  way  of  transportation,  and  the  lines 
to  be  operated  upon. 

When  Lee  was  moving  toward  the  Potomac  for  the 
invasion  of  Pennsylvania,  I  supposed  as  a  matter  of 
course  that  General  Hooker  would  follow  him  up  and 
that,  as  a  necessary  consequence,  the  base  of  supplies 
must  be  changed  and  the  rolling-stock  transferred  from 
the  line  of  the  Orange  and  Alexandria  to  the  Baltimore 
and  Ohio  Railroad.  I  went  to  the  front  to  consult  with 
General  Hooker,  and  found  him  under  a  tree  two  miles 
from  Fairfax  Station. 

In  answer  to  my  inquiries,  he  replied  that  he  did  not 
intend  to  move  until  he  got  orders,  and  that  he  would 
follow  them  literally  and  let  the  responsibility  rest 
where  it  belonged.  He  said  that  he  had  made  sugges- 
tions that  were  not  approved,  and  if  he  could  not  carry 
out  his  own  plans  he  could  not  be  held  accountable  for 
failure  if  he  literally  carried  out  instructions  of  which 
he  disapproved. 

Regarding  the  situation  as  critical,  I  returned  as 
soon  as  possible  to  Washington  and  made  report  to 
General  Halleck  in  person.  General  Halleck  opened 
his  desk  and  took  out  a  bundle  of  papers,  from  which 
he  selected  several  which  he  read  to  me.  They  were 
communications  which  had  passed  between  General 
Hooker  and  the  President,  of  which  copies  were  al- 
ways sent  to  General  Halleck. 

From  these  papers  it  appeared  that  Hooker's  plan 
was  to  capture  Richmond  while  the  army  of  Lee  was 
absent  from  it,  and  that  the  President  had  replied,  in 
substance,  that  it  would  be  a  poor  exchange  to  give 
Washington  for  Richmond ;  that  if,  as  stated,  the  en- 
emy was  spread  out  in  a  long  thin  line,  with  one  flank 
resting  on  Fredericksburg  and  the  other  on  the  Poto- 
mac, it  would  be  much  better  to  break  through  his 
line  and  beat  him  in  detail.  This  was  about  the  sub- 
stance of  these  letters,  as  I  remember  them. 

After  reading  these  papers.  General  Halleck  put  on 
his  cap  and  left  the  office,  no  doubt  to  confer  with  the 
President.  In  half  an  hour  he  returned,  and  quietly 
remarked,  "  Hooker  will  get  his  orders."  This  was  all 
he  said,  but  a  few  days  after  General  Hooker  was  re- 
lieved at  his  own  request,  and  the  command  conferred 
upon  General  Meade. 

General  Meade  and  I  had  been  classmates  at  West 
Point,  graduating  in  1835.  I  appreciated  the  difficul- 
ties of  his  position.  Called  unexpectedly  to  the  com- 
mand of  an  army  the  several  corps  of  which  were 
scattered,  and  with  no  plan  of  operation  required  to 


OPEN  LETTERS. 


795 


form  his  own  plans  and  prosecute  a  campaign  with  but 
little  time  for  consideration,  it  was  certainly  a  most 
trying  situation. 

The  following  special  orders  were  issued  : 

headquarters  of  army, 

Adjutant-General's  Office, 
Washington,  June  27,  1863. 
Special  Orders,  No.  286. 

Brigadier-General  H.  Haupt,  United  States  Volun- 
teers, is  hereby  authorized  and  directed  to  do  whatever 
he  may  deem  expedient  to  facilitate  the  transportation  of 
troops  and  supplies  to  aid  the  armies  in  the  field  in  Vir- 
ginia, Maryland,  and  Pennsylvania. 
By  command  of  Major-General  Halleck. 

E.  D.  TOVVNSEND, 
Assistant  Adjutant-General. 

June  28,  1863,  General  Meade  telegraphed  General 
Halleck,  acknowledging  the  receipt  of  the  order  placing 
him  in  command  of  the  army,  and  stated  that  he  was 
ignorant  of  the  exact  condition  of  the  troops  and  the 
position  of  the  enemy. 

I  repaired  promptly  to  Harrisburg,  as  the  best  point 
at  which  to  obtain  reliable  information  as  to  the  situa- 
tion. I  found  Colonel  Thomas  A.  Scott  at  the  depot, 
showed  him  my  orders,  and  asked  for  a  full  report.  He 
informed  me  that  Lee,  who  had  occupied  the  opposite 
side  of  the  river  in  full  force,  had  that  morning,  June 
30,  begun  to  retreat  precipitately,  in  some  cases  leaving 
provisions  uncooked,  and  the  artillery  being  on  a  trot. 
After  hearing  a  full  explanation,  with  many  details  un- 
necessary to  repeat,  I  told  Colonel  Scott  that  he  was 
entirely  in  error  as  to  the  cause  of  Lee's  retirement. 
My  explanation  of  the  movement  was  that  Lee  had 
just  received  information  that  Hooker  had  been  re- 
lieved and  Meade  placed  in  command ;  that  Lee  knew 
that  our  army  corps  were  widely  scattered,  and  that 
some  days  would  be  required  before  Meade  could  get 
them  in  hand;  and  that  the  movement  of  Lee  was 
clearly  not  one  of  retreat  but  of  concentration,  with  a 
view  to  fall  upon  the  several  corps  and  crush  them  in 
detail,  in  which  case  Washington,  Baltimore,  and  Phila- 
delphia would  fall  into  his  possession;  and  I  added 
emphatically,  "  We  are  in  the  worst  position  that  we 
have  occupied  since  the  commencement  of  the  war, 
and  nothing  but  the  interposition  of  Providence  can 
save  us  from  destruction." 

Colonel  Scott  replied :  "  I  think  you  are  right. 
What  can  be  done  ?  " 

I  immediately,  at  10  P.  M.,  sent  this  telegram  : 

Harrisburg,  Penn.,  June  30,  1863. 
Major-General  Halleck,  General-in-Chief:  Lee 
is  falling  back  suddenly  from  the  vicinity  of  Harrisburg 
and  concentrating  all  his  forces.  York  has  been  evacu- 
ated. Carlisle  is  being  evacuated.  The  concentration 
appears  to  be  at  or  near  Chambersburg.  The  object, 
apparently,  a  sudden  movement  against  Meade,  of  which 
he  should  be  advised  by  courier  immediately.  A  courier 
might  reach  Frederick  by  way  of  Western  Maryland 
Railroad  to  Westminster.  This  information  comes  from 
T.  A.  Scott,  and  I  think  it  rehable.  H.  Haupt, 

Brigadier-General. 

Further  information  continued  to  be  received,  and 
at  12.45  A.  M.  I  sent  this  second  telegram  : 

Harrisburg,  Penn.,  July  i,  1S63,  12.45  -^m. 
M.'Vjor-General  H.  W.  Halleck,  General-in-Chief. 

Information  just  received,  12.45  A.  M. ,  leads  to  the  belief 
that  the  concentration  of  the  forces  of  the  enemy  will  be 


at  Gettysburg,  rather  than  at  Chambersburg.  The  move- 
ment on  their  part  is  very  rapid  and  hurried.  They  re- 
turned from  Carlisle  in  the  direction  of  Gettysburg  by 
way  of  the  Petersburg  Pike.  Firing  about  Petersburg 
and  Dillsburg  this  P.  M.  continued  some  hours.  Meade 
should  by  all  means  be  informed  and  be  prepared  for  a 
sudden  attack  from  Lee's  whole  army. 

H.  Haupt,  Brig^adier-General. 
(And  repeat  to  General  Meade  and  General  Schenck.) 

General  Meade  subsequently  informed  me  that  he 
received  these  telegrams  by  courier  in  his  tent  at  about 
3  A.  M.  on  the  morning  of  July  i. 

On  July  I,  I  returned  to  Baltimore  via  Philadelphia, 
as  the  Northern  Central  had  been  broken,  and  organ- 
ized transportation  over  the  Western  Maryland  Rail- 
road. J.  N.  DuBarry,  superintendent  of  the  Northern 
Central  Railroad,  was  relieved  at  his  own  request,  and 
Adna  Anderson  placed  in  charge,  under  whose  efficient 
management  thirty  trains  per  day  were  passed  over  this 
road  under  extraordinary  difficulties ;  and,  as  General 
Ingalls,  Chief  Quartermaster,  stated,  so  efficient  was 
the  service  that  at  no  time  were  the  supplies  insufficient 
for  three  days'  rations  in  advance. 

I  then  directed  my  attention  to  the  reconstruction  of 
the  Northern  Central  Railroad,  on  which  nineteen 
bridges  had  been  destroyed,  as  also  all  the  bridges  on  the 
branches  between  Hanover  Junction  and  Gettysburg. 
Before  midnight  of  July  5,  all  these  bridges  between 
Gettysburg  and  Baltimore  had  been  reconstructed  and 
the  telegraph  line  restored,  and  on  Monday  morning, 
July  6,  General  Meade  was  in  communication  with 
Washington  both  by  rail  and  telegraph. 

On  Sunday  morning,  the  day  of  Lee's  retreat,  I  rode 
to  Gettysburg  in  a  buggy,  and  repaired  early  to  General 
Meade's  headquarters,  where  I  found  Generals  Meade 
and  Pleasonton,  and  remained  with  them  about  three 
hours.  The  scene  is  ^'ividly  impressed  upon  my  memory, 
as  also  the  conversation.  We  were  seated  at  a  small 
table,  upon  which  was  a  map  of  the  country, —  Meade 
and  Pleasonton  on  one  side,  I  on  the  opposite  side. 
General  Meade  was  much  surprised  to  learn  that  the 
bridges  and  telegraph  lines  had  nearly  been  recon- 
structed, and  that  in  a  few  hours  he  could  begin  to  send 
his  wounded  to  the  hospitals.  He  remarked  that  he 
had  supposed  that  the  destruction  of  the  railroads  had 
been  so  complete  that  three  weeks  would  be  required 
for  their  reconstruction.  After  many  incidents  con- 
nected with  the  battle  had  been  related.  General  Pleas- 
onton made  the  remark  that  if  Longstreet  had  con- 
centrated his  fire  more  and  had  kept  it  up  a  little  longer, 
we  would  have  lost  the  day ;  to  which  Meade  made  no 
reply,  and  appeared  to  acquiesce  in  this  opinion. 

After  other  matters  had  been  disposed  of,  I  re- 
marked to  General  Meade  that  I  supposed  he  would 
at  once  follow  up  his  advantages  and  capture  the  re- 
mains of  Lee's  army  before  he  could  cross  the  Poto- 
mac. The  reply  was,  "  Lee's  pontoon-trains  have  been 
destroyed,  and  the  river  is  not  fordable.  My  army  re- 
quires a  few  days'  rest,  and  cannot  move  at  present." 
I  was  greatly  surprised,  and  said  decidedly,  "  General, 
I  have  a  construction-corps  that  could  pass  that  army 
in  less  than  forty-eight  hours,  if  they  had  no  material 
except  such  as  could  be  procured  from  barns  and 
houses  and  trees  from  the  woods ;  and  it  is  not  safe  to 
assume  that  the  enemy  cannot  do  what  we  can."  All 
my  arguments  and  remonstrances  proved  unavailing, 
and  I  left,  when  the  interview  ended,  fully  convinced 


796 


OPEN  LETTERS. 


that  Lee  would  be  permitted  to  escape,  and  that  the 
fruits  of  the  glorious  victory  would  be  lost. 

The  situation  can  be  briefly  explained.  The  Federal 
army  had  been  occupying  the  Cemetery  Ridge  for  sev- 
eral days.  They  were  not  so  foot-sore  that  a  march 
of  thirty-five  miles  would  have  been  impossible  ;  they 
had  ample  supplies  for  at  least  three  days,  as  the 
chief  quartermaster  informed  me  ;  they  would  have 
moved  toward,  not  from,  their  proper  base  of  supplies, 
the  Baltimore  and  Ohio  Railroad  ;  they  had  two  good 
pontoon-trains  with  which  to  bridge  the  river  at  any 
desired  point.  I  was  quite  familiar  with  the  locations, 
having  resided  ten  years  at  Gettysburg  and  made  rail- 
road surveys  between  it  and  the  Potomac,  and  had 
walked  over  the  same  ground  in  one  day  ten  miles 
further  than  it  would  have  been  necessary  for  the  army 
to  march. 

The  Confederates  were  depressed  by  defeat,  short  of 
ammunition,  especially  for  artillery,  they  had  a  swollen 
stream  not  fordable  in  their  front,  no  pontoon-bridges 
and  no  material  immediately  available  for  constructing 
others,  no  possibility  of  retracing  their  route  up  the 
Cumberland  Valley,  as  that  would  have  removed  them 
further  from  their  supplies  on  the  south  side  of  the 
Potomac,  and,  besides,  the  Cumberland  Valley  was  oc- 
cupied by  the  corps  of  General  Couch,  which  had  not 
been  in  action ;  they  were  apparently  hemmed  in  a  trap. 

My  opinion  has  always  been  that  if  Meade  had 
moved  at  once  to  the  Potomac,  had  occupied  a  defen- 
sible position  below  Lee's  army,  thrown  bridges  across 
and  placed  a  moderate  force  with  artillery  on  the  south 
side,  within  supporting  distance  from  the  main  army,  it 
would  have  been  impossible  for  Lee  to  receive  supplies 
or  reinforcements ;  the  batteries,  properly  placed,  would 
have  prevented  any  attempts  to  construct  bridges;  and 
Lee  would  have  been  forced  to  capitulate.  It  would 
not  have  been  necessary  to  risk  an  engagement ;  the 
enemy  would  have  been  checkmated. 

I  left  Meade  on  Sunday,  July  5,  about  noon,  and 
the  next  morning,  as  I  find  from  my  records,  I  was  in 
Washington  and  had  a  personal  interview  with  General 
Halleck,  in  which  the  situation  was  fully  explained;  and 
this  is  the  reason  why  no  records  were  found  of  any 
letters  or  telegrams  from  me  to  General  Halleck  or 
the  President  referring  to  the  Meade  interview.  I 
find,  however,  a  letter  to  General  Halleck,  written  from 
my  office  in  Washington,  Monday,  July  6,  referring 
to  the  interview  with  him  in  the  morning,  which  throws 
light  upon  the  subjects  discussed  at  that  interview.  In 
this  letter  I  assumed  that  Lee  would  escape,  and  sug- 
gested that,  as  a  successful  pursuit  up  the  Shenandoah 
Valley  would  be  hopeless,  it  was  desirable  at  once  to 
occupy  the  line  of  the  Orange  and  Alexandria  Railroad 
with  a  good  cavalry  force  as  far  as  Lynchburg,  destroy 
telegrapli  lines  and  the  bridges  and  tracks  on  both  the 
roads  leading  froin  Richmond,  occupy  the  passes  of  the 
Blue  Ridge,  isolate  the  army  in  the  Shenandoah  Valley, 
and  attack  when  favorable  opportunities  offered.  These 
were,  of  course,  mere  suggestions  for  the  consideration 
of  the  General-in-Chief.  The  principal  value  of  this  let- 
ter at  the  present  time  is  to  show  that  as  early  as  July  6 
I  had  reached  the  conclusion  that  Lee  would  escape, 
and  was  occupied  with  plans  of  what  should  be  done 
in  that  contingency. 

The  predictions  were  verified.  Lee  did  escape,  but 
not  until  July  14,  on  bridges  constructed  on  the  plans 


that  I  had  indicated  as  possible.  Meade's  army,  instead 
of  occupying  the  line  of  road  east  of  the  Blue  Ridge 
and  cutting  the  communications  of  the  enemy,  followed 
him  in  a  hopeless  chase  up  the  Shenandoah  Valley, 
and,  when  too  late  to  be  of  efficient  service,  I  was 
telegraphed  to  bring  all  my  forces  from  the  line  of  the 
Cumberland  Valley  Railroad  and  reconstruct  with  all 
possible  expedition  the  Orange  and  Alexandria  Rail- 
way, which  again  became  the  base  of  supplies. 

The  records  show  that  even  before  the  interview  with 
General  Meade  I  wrote  to  General  Halleck,  expressing 
apprehension  that  the  pursuit  would  be  so  tardy  as  to 
lose  the  fruits  of  victory.  On  page  523  of  Part  III  of 
the  Gettysburg  records  there  is  a  letter  to  General  Hal- 
leck, dated  Oxford,  Pennsylvania,  July  4,  "11  A.  M." 
This  date  is  an  error  in  the  printed  records ;  it  should 
have  been  p.  M.,  as  the  letter  commences  —  "  Night  has 
overtaken  me  at  Oxford.  .  .  .  Persons  just  in  from 
Gettysburg  report  the  position  of  affairs.  I  fear  that 
while  Meade  rests  to  refresh  his  men  and  collect  sup- 
plies Lee  will  be  oft"  so  far  that  he  cannot  intercept  him. 
A  good  force  on  the  line  of  the  Potomac  to  prevent  Lee 
from  crossing  would,  I  think,  insure  his  destruction." 

This  letter,  it  will  be  perceived,  was  written  from  Ox- 
ford, seven  miles  east  of  Gettysburg,  before  my  inter- 
view with  General  Meade  at  an  early  hour  the  next 
morning.  The  fear  expressed  was  so  greatly  intensified 
by  my  personal  interview  with  General  Meade  that  I 
felt  it  to  be  my  duty  to  take  an  engine  and  proceed  to 
Washington  the  same  night,  to  make  a  personal  report 
to  General  Halleck,  who  was  my  immediate  superior. 

Although  the  President  seems  to  have  been  much 
exercised  over  the  probability  of  Lee's  escape,  the  com- 
munications between  Generals  Halleck  and  Meade,  as 
published  in  the  records,  do  not  indicate  disapproba- 
tion on  the  part  of  the  authorities  at  Washington  until 
the  escape  had  been  actually  effected,  on  July  14,  when 
the  telegrams  were  of  such  character  as  to  induce  Gen- 
eral Meade  to  ask  to  be  relieved  from  the  command  of 
the  army. 

I  can  readily  understand  the  situation  from  my  rela- 
tions to  General  Halleck  and  familiarity  with  his  policy. 
Contrary  to  the  generally  received  opinion,  he  was 
unwilling  to  give  any  other  than  very  general  instruc- 
tions to  the  generals  in  the  field.  A  single  illustration 
will  make  this  clear.  At  the  battle  of  Fredericksburg 
I  was  with  Burnside  nearly  all  day  in  an  upper  room 
of  the  Phillips  House  overlooking  the  battle-field.  After 
the  battle  I  took  an  engine,  ran  to  Aquia  Creek,  twelve 
miles,  then  boarded  a  steamer  and  proceeded  as  rapidly 
as  possible  to  Washington.  I  called  on  President  Lin- 
coln and  explained  the  situation.  He  asked  me  to 
walk  with  him  to  General  Halleck's  quarters  on  I 
street,  near  the  Arlington.  On  arrival  we  found  Gen- 
eral Halleck  at  about  IIP.  M.  in  his  drawing-room 
with  several  officers.  These  were  requested  to  with- 
draw, and  the  President  then  asked  me  to  repeat  my 
report  to  General  Halleck,  which  I  did.  The  President 
then  directed  General  Halleck  to  telegraph  orders  to 
Burnside  to  withdraw  his  forces  from  the  south  side 
of  the  river.  General  Halleck  rose  from  his  seat,  paced 
the  room  for  some  time  in  meditation,  and  then,  stand- 
ing in  front  of  the  President,  said  emphatically,  "/  will 
do  710  such  thing.  If  suck  orders  are  issued,  you  must 
issue  them  yourself.  If  we  were  personally  present  we 
might  assume  such  responsibility.    I  hold  that  a  general 


OPEN  LETTERS. 


797 


in  command  of  an  army  in  the  field  is,  or  ought  to  be, 
better  acquainted  with  all  the  conditions  than  parties  at 
a  distance,  and  by  giving  peremptory  orders  a  serious 
error  7night  be  committed."  The  President  made  no 
reply,  but  seemed  much  dejected.  I  then  ventured  the 
remark  that  I  did  not  consider  the  situation  so  serious 
as  he  supposed.  I  explained  more  in  detail  the  topo- 
graphical features  of  the  locality  and  the  relative  posi- 
tions of  the  two  armies.  Our  troops  could  not  be  fired 
upon,  nor  our  bridges  enfiladed  by  the  batteries  on 
Marye's  Heights,  without  destroying  the  city,  and  I  had 
no  doubt  lliat  Burnside  would  retire  his  army  during 
the  night.  When  I  finished,  the  President,  with  a  deep 
sigh,  remarked,  "What  you  have  just  told  me  gives  me 
a  great  many  grains  of  comfort." 

There  can  be,  I  think,  no  doubt  that  the  President 
from  the  first  shared  with  me  the  apprehension  that 
Lee  would  escape  and  the  war  be  indefinitely  pro- 
longed, but  was  deterred  from  interfering  with  Gen- 
eral Meade  by  the  position  taken  by  General  Halleck, 
who  would  not,  unless  personally  present,  assume  the 
responsibility  of  giving  orders. 

General  M.  C.  Meigs,  Quartermaster-General,  had 
great  influence  with  the  President,  Secretary  of  War, 
and  General  Halleck,  and  was  often  present  at  their 
councils.  I  find  among  my  papers  a  telegram  to  Gen- 
eral Meigs,  dated  Frederick,  July  8,  in  which  I  en- 
deavored to  secure  his  cooperation  to  induce  more 
prompt  action,  in  which  this  language  is  used,  "  I  could 
build  trestle-bridges  of  round  sticks  and  floor  with  fence- 
rails.  It  is  too  much  to  assume  that  the  rebels  cannot 
do  the  same."  I  had  previously  made  a  similar  remark 
to  General  Meade. 

On  July  9,  General  Halleck  telegraphed  to  General 
Meade  that  "  the  evidence  that  Lee's  army  will  fight 
north  of  the  Potomac  seems  reliable." 

This  seems  to  me,  under  the  circumstances,  a  very 
remarkable  opinion  for  an  officer  of  so  much  intelli- 
gence as  General  Halleck;  but  he  may  have  had  reasons 
for  the  opinion  of  which  I  am  not  advised.  Lee  was  of 
necessity  short  of  ammunition.  With  nearly  300  pieces 
of  artillery  in  action  for  three  days,  it  would  seem  to 
have  been  an  impossibility  for  Lee  to  have  retained 
sufficient  ammunition  to  renew  the  offensive,  and  he 
could  get  neither  ammunition,  supplies,  nor  reinforce- 
ments until  he  could  establish  communications  with  the 
south  side  of  the  Potomac.  In  fact,  it  was  not  until 
July  10  that  Lee  succeeded  in  getting  some  ammuni- 
tion via  Martinsburg,  probably  carried  over  the  river 
in  rowboats,  and  this  could  have  been  intercepted  by 
a  small  force  on  the  south  side.  To  me  it  seems  ex- 
tremely probable,  in  fact  almost  certain,  that  if  Lee  could 
have  been  prevented  from  getting  ammunition  to  renew 
an  attack,  or  from  constructing  bridges  on  which  to 
cross  the  river,  he  would  have  been  forced  to  capitulate 
without  another  battle.  If  he  had  attempted  to  escape  by 
moving  up  the  river,  the  difficulties  of  the  position  would 
not  have  been  relieved.  Meade,  having  the  great  ad- 
vantage of  pontoon-bridges,  could  always  safely  have 
maintained  a  sufficient  force  on  the  south  side  to  inter- 
cept supplies.  Lee's  forces  were  certainly  in  no  condition 
to  renew  the  contest  when  they  reached  the  Potomac, 
and  although  it  might  not  have  been  wise  to  attack  them 
in  a  strong,  defensive  position,  it  is  certain  that,  without 
supplies,  such  position  could  not  have  been  long  main- 
tained, and  the  Federal  army  could  never  again  hope 


for  conditions  more  favorable  for  themselves.  If  no 
decisive  move  could  be  made  north  of  the  Potomac,  it 
was  vain  to  expect  more  favorable  results  on  the  south 
side,  with  the  enemy  reinforced,  supplied,  rested,  and 
on  their  own  territory,  with  communications  intact  and 
popular  sympathy  in  their  favor. 

The  records  show  that  the  opinions  herein  expressed 
are  not  afterthoughts,  but  were  entertained  at  the  time 
when  the  events  occurred, and  that  no  efforts  were  spared 
on  my  part  to  avert  the  great  calamity  of  the  escape  of 
the  Confederate  army  and  the  prolongation  of  the  con- 
test for  two  years,  with  the  losses  of  life  and  treasure 
consequent  thereon. 

Soon  after  the  battle  of  Gettysburg,  for  reasons  not 
pertinent  to  this  article,  I  ceased  to  be  an  active  parti- 
cipant in  the  operations  of  the  army  ;  but  the  construc- 
tion-corps that  I  had  the  privilege  of  organizing  con- 
tinued, under  other  officers,  to  perform  most  efficient 
service,  and  contributed  greatly  —  perhaps  it  would  not 
be  too  strong  an  expression  to  say  was  indispensable  — 
to  the  success  of  General  Sherman  in  his  celebrated 
march  to  the  sea.  The  facility  with  which  bridges  were 
reconstructed  and  broken  communications  restored  en- 
abled him  to  advance  with  confidence,  lea\ang  hundreds 
of  miles  of  unprotected  railroad  communications  in  his 
rear. 

Colonel  Lazelle,  formerly  in  charge  of  the  publica- 
tion of  the  records  of  the  war,  declared  that  the  services 
of  the  Military  Railroad  Construction  Corps  had  been 
of  the  greatest  value  to  the  Government,  but  that  they 
had  never  been  recognized  or  appreciated. 

Herman  Haupt. 
Francis  Davis  Millet. 


)een 

:hey         j 

/ 


"  Between  Two  Fires  "  is  a  good  example  of  the 
work  of  one  of  the  best-known  of  American  painters. 
The  story  is  well  told,  the  painting  is  conscientious  and 
unobtrusive,  the  figures  are  well  drawn,  and  the  com- 
position is  pleasing  in  color.  It  shows,  perhaps,  as  well 
as  any  of  Mr.  Millet's  pictures,  what  the  qualities  are 
that  distinguish  his  work  and  have  contributed  to  the 
painter's  excellent  position  in  contemporary  art.  He 
seems  to  have  the  same  desire  not  to  omit  detail,  and  yet 
not  to  insist  too  much  upon  it,  that  appears  in  the  work 
of  the  great  Dutchmen.  There  is  no  dash  or  showy 
brush-work,  though  technically  Mr.  Millet's  work  is 
not  tame  ;  but  the  chief  characteristic  is  a  certain  thor- 
oughness, a  straightforward  earnestness  of  intention  to 
be  realistic,  and  the  accomplishment  of  this  purpose 
without  making  realism  the  only,  or  even  the  predom- 
inant, quality.  There  are  charm  of  expression,  healthy 
sentiment,  very  clever  workmanship,  and  completeness 
in  all  that  he  does. 

In  a  large  picture  of  "  Anthony  Van  Corlaer,  the 
Trumpeter  of  New  Amsterdam,"  a  fine  composition  of 
six  or  seven  figures  ;  in  "  Rook  and  Pigeon,"  an  ex- 
cellent group  of  two  men,  with  the  scene  in  an  F,ng- 
lish  inn  in  the  time  of  the  Stuarts  ;  in  "  A  Waterloo 
Widow  "  ;  in  "  The  Duet  "  ;  and  in  the  picture  of  the 
traveler  at  the  inn,  which  belongs  to  the  Union  League 
Club  of  New  York,  the  painter's  admirable  qualities 
are  well  shown.  The  picture  "  Between  Two  Fires  " 
has  been  purchased  this  year  from  the  Royal  Academy 
Exhibition  by  the  Chantrey  Fund. 

In  another  line  of  subjects  —  those  depicting  scenes 


798 


IN  LIGHTER    VEIN. 


of  Greek  and  Roman  life  and  single  figures  of  women  — 
Mr.  Millet  is  as  successful  as  in  the  treatment  of  Eng- 
lish genre,  and  he  has  also  won  a  reputation  as  a  painter 
of  portraits.  Mr.  Millet  passes  the  winter  season  in 
New  York,  but  lives  the  rest  of  the  year  in  London  and 
at  his  charming  home  at  Broadway  in  Worcestershire, 
where  he  has  for  neighbors  Alma-Tadema,  Alfred  Par- 
sons, Sargent,  and  other  Englishmen  and  Americans 
of  note.  He  was  born  at  Mattapoisett,  Massachusetts, 
and  was  graduated  at  Harvard  in  the  class  of  1869. 
He  is  vice-president  of  the  National  Academy  of  De- 
sign, a  member  of  the  Society  of  American  Artists,  of 
the  American  Water  Color  Society,  and  of  the  Royal 
Institute  of  Painters  of  London.  He  obtained  his  art 
schooling  at  the  Antwerp  Academy,  and  received  first- 
class  medals  at  the  Antwerp  exhibitions  in  1873  and 
1874.  A  prize  of  $2500  was  awarded  to  him  at  the 
American  Art  Association  Exhibition  in  1886  for  the 
picture,  mentioned  above,  which  is  in  the  Union  League 
Club,  and  at  the  Paris  Exhibition  of  1889  he  received 
a  silver  medal  in  the  British  section.  Mr.  Millet  is 
widely  known  as  the  brilliant  war-correspondent  of  the 
London  "  Daily  News  "  in  the  Russo-Turkish  war,  and 
as  a  clever  writer  of  fiction  and  descriptive  articles.  In 
the  field  of  illustration  he  has  contributed  to  the  mag- 
azines a  large  number  of  excellent  drawings,  those  of 


life  and  campaigns  in  the  Balkans  being  particularly 
noticeable  for  freshness  and  vividness  in  transcription, 
and  marked  by  great  truth  of  observation  and  artistic 
feeling  for  the  picturesque. 

William  A.    Coffin. 

Corrections  with  Regard  to  the  Washington  Family. 

Mr.  Thomas  M.  Green  of  Danville,  Kentucky, 
writes  to  correct  two  errors  in  the  article  on  "  The 
Mother  and  Birthplace  of  Washington  '^  in  The  Cen- 
tury for  April,  1892.  On  page  833  it  is  stated  that 
Augustine  Washington  died  April  12,  1740,  the  writer 
having  supplied  the  last  figure,  which  is  obliterated  in 
the  entry  in  the  family  Bible,  with  a  cipher.  Mr.  Green 
quotes  from  General  Washington's  letter  to  Sir  Isaac 
Heard  to  show  that  the  correct  date  of  Augustine 
Washington's  death  was  April  12,  1743.  Mr.  Green 
also  says  : 

In  a  note  at  the  bottom  of  page  832  referring  to  the 
godmother  of  General  Washington,  who  held  him  in  her 
arms  at  the  baptismal  font,  the  statement  is  made  that 
"  the  godmother,  Mrs.  Mildred  Gregory,  was  an  aunt  of 
the  infant.  She  was  the  daughter  of  Lawrence  Washing- 
ton, brother  of  Augustine."  The  word  "  brother  "  in  the 
note  was  evidently  an  inadvertence  or  a  misprint.  Law- 
rence Washington  was  the  father  of  Augustine  and  of 
Mildred.  Editor. 


IN    LIGHTER    VEIN. 


Lincoln's  Goose  Nest  Home. 

NEAR  the  graveyard  where  Lincoln's  father  and 
stepmother  rest,  seven  miles  south  of  Charleston, 
Illinois,  in  a  place  then  known  as  Goose  Nest,  the  Lin- 
colns  made  their  final  settlement  on  removing  from 
Indiana.  Here  Abraham  Lincoln  assisted  his  father  in 
"  getting  settled,"  as  they  called  it.  He  helped  him 
build  a  log  cabin,  and  cleared  for  him  a  patch  of 
ground,  and  when  he  saw  him  "  under  headway  "  in  the 
new  country,  bade  him  good-by  and  started  north 
afoot.  He  found  employment  not  far  from  Spring- 
field, Illinois,  where  the  active  part  of  his  early  life  was 
spent.  Though  he  did  not  linger  long  in  the  Goose 
Nest  cabin,  he  was  there  long  enough  to  stamp  his 
individuality  on  every  heart  for  miles  around,  and 
many  are  the  stories  told  of  his  sojourn  among  these 
people.  It  was  my  lot  to  be  born  and  reared  a  few 
miles  from  the  early  home  of  the  Lincolns,  and  the  in- 
cidents I  shall  relate  were  picked  up  in  conversation 
with  the  old  settlers  about  our  neighborhood,  all  of  whom 
knew  Lincoln  well.  I  was  shown  a  bridge  he  helped 
to  build,  and  many  other  relics  of  his  boyhood  days. 

One  very  old  man  told  me  that  he  once  rode  up  to 
Thomas  Lincoln's  cabin  and  inquired  if  he  could  spend 
the  night  there.  He  was  informed  that  the  house  af- 
forded only  two  beds,  and  one  of  these  belonged  to  a 
son  who  was  then  at  home;  but  if  he  would  get 
the  consent  of  this  boy  to  take  him  in  as  a  bedfellow, 
he  could  stay.     The  stranger  dismounted,  and  soon 


found  the  six-foot  boy  in  the  back  yard  lying  on  a  board 
reading.  The  boy  consented,  and  the  man  slept  with 
him  that  night.  The  boy  was  Abraham  Lincoln,  and 
the  other  never  tires  of  telling  how  he  spent  the  night 
with  the  future  President. 

Tarlton  Miles,  a  veterinary  surgeon  of  Charleston, 
told  me  that  he  had  seen  Lincoln  driving  an  ox-team 
into  town  with  cord-wood  to  sell.  One  night  Lincoln 
was  detained  till  late  selling  his  wood.  It  grew  dark, 
and  "Abe  "  thought  best  not  to  attempt  to  drive  home. 
As  the  Miles  homestead  was  just  out  of  town  toward  the 
Lincoln  cabin,  Lincoln  stopped  there  overnight.  His 
entire  outfit,  in  the  way  of  wearing-apparel,  consisted 
of  homespun  jeans  trousers,  knit  "galluses,"  a  linsey 
shirt,  and  a  straw  hat.  Miles's  father  sat  up  till  mid- 
night talking  with  Lincoln,  and  was  amazed  at  the  wis- 
dom he  displayed.  \ 

I  spent  four  years  in  Charleston,  as  salesman  in  a  large  \ 
dry-goods  house  there,  and  as  most  of  the  country  folks 
traded  at  this  store,  I  often  enjoyed  rare  treats  in  the 
way  of  chats  with  the  old  settlers  about  "  Abe,"  as  they 
loved  to  call  him.  As  I  measured  off  calico  for  them 
they  measured  off  "  yarns  "  for  me.  I  said  to  one  old 
settler, "  Did  you  ever  have  ahint  of  Lincoln's  greatness 
while  he  lived  near  you  ?  "  "  No,"  he  said,  as  he  took 
a  chew  of  "  Lincoln  green,"  "  I  never  did.  I  had  six 
boys,  an'  any  one  of  'em  seemed  as  peart  to  me  as  Tom's 
Abe  did  — 'cept  perhaps  in  book-readin'.  He  always  did 
take  to  that,  an'  on  that  account  we  uns  uset  to  think  he 


IN  LIGHTER    VEIN. 


799 


would  n't  amount  to  much.    You  see,  it  war  n't  book- 
readin'  then,  it  war  work,  that  counted.    jVow,  talkin'    . 
about  rail-splittin',  any  of  my  boys  could  beat  Abe  any  \ 
day  he  lived,  an'  any  one  of  'em  could  run  him  a  mid- 
dlin'  tight  foot-race ;  an'  thess  why  he  should  beat  'em 
in  the  big  race  for  fame,  I  can'  tell." 

"  Uncle  Johnny  "  Gordon  is  an  odd  character  known 
in  Charleston  as  the  "  Sassafras  Man."  In  the  spring 
months  he  may  be  seen  offering  for  sale  neat  little 
bunches  of  sassafras  root,  which  he  has  carefully  gath- 
ered, and  which  he  declares  is  a  "  balm  for  all  wounds. " 
For  "yarns"  of  the  early  days  on  Goose  Nest  prairie, 
and  for  recollections  of  Thomas  Lincoln,  one  has  only 
to  buy  a  bunch  of  sassafras,  then  make  his  wants  known, 
and  Uncle  Johnny  will  supply  them,  heaped  up  and  run- 
ning over.  The  quality  of  Gordon's  recollections  may 
not  be  the  best,  but  the  quantity  can't  be  questioned. 

At  the  time  the  Lincolns  settled  at  Goose  Nest 
Dan  Needham  was  the  champion  wrestler  in  Cum- 
berland County.  This  county  joins  Coles,  the  one  in 
which  the  Lincolns  lived.  Needham  had  often  been 
told  that  he  would  find  his  match  in  Tom  Lincoln's  boy 
Abe,  but  he  would  boast  that  he  could  "  fling  him 
three  best  out  of  four  any  day  he  lived."  At  last  they 
met.  It  was  at  a  house-raising  on  the  Ambraw  River. 
"  Raisin's  "  at  that  time  brought  "  neighbors  "  from 
many  miles  around,  and  I  am  told  that  at  this  one  they 
came  from  as  far  south  as  Crawford  County,  more 
than  forty  miles  away.  Thomas  Lincoln  came,  and 
with  him  his  boy  Abe.  After  the  work  of  the  day,  in 
which  Abe  and  Dan  matched  handspikes  many  times, 
a  "  rassle  "  was  suggested.  At  first  Abe  was  unwilling 
to  measure  arms  with  Dan,  who  was  six  feet  four  and 
as  agile  as  a  panther ;  but  when  Thomas  Lincoln  said, 
"Abe,  rassle  'im,''  Abe  flung  off  his  coat,  and  the  two 
stood  face  to  face.  Four  times  they  wrestled,  and  each 
time  Needham  was  thrown. 

At  the  close  of  the  fourth  round  the  combatants 
again  stood  face  to  face,  Abe  flushed  but  smiling, 
Dan  trembling  with  anger.  However,  one  glance 
at  the  honest,  good-natured  face  of .  his  opponent 
cooled  his  rage,  and,  extending  his  rough  palm,  he  said, 

"  Well,  I  '11  be !  "    Ever  after  this  they  were  warm 

friends.  Needham  survived  Lincoln  many  years,  and 
though  he  was  a  strong  Democrat,  he  had  nothing  but 
good  words  for  Abe.  Several  of  his  boys  still  live  near 
the  old  homestead  in  Spring  Point  to^^Tiship,  Cumber- 
land County,  Illinois.  One  daughter,  the  wife  of  W. 
P.  Davis, —  a  brother  of  the  writer,— resides  on  a  farm 
near  Roseland,  Nebraska.  Uncle  Dan,  as  we  called 
him,  now  sleeps  in  a  quiet  churchyard  hidden  away  in 
a  deep  forest.  A  braver  heart  never  beat ;  and  though 
his  life  was  humble,  I  am  sure  that  he  did  not  lack  for 
a  welcome  into  the  Eternal  City. 

Alonzo  Hilton  Davis. 


So  knavishly  they  played  the  game  of  hearts. 

She  counted  him  a  victim  to  her  arts. 

He  thought  her  snared.    So,  pleased  both  went  their 

way ; 
And  yet,  forsooth,  old  strategists  were  they ! 


An  Experience. 

Tempo  Moderato. 

I  HAD  a  dream  last  night  in  which  I  seemed 

To  see  myself  a  man  immortal  deemed. 

My  poems,  lately  placed  upon  the  mart. 

Had  gone  straight  home  to  every  reader's  heart. 

And  fairly  falling  o'er  each  other's  feet. 

Demanding  copies,  mortals  thronged  the  street 

Before  the  doors  of  him  who  had  to  sell 

The  dainty  verses  that  I  loved  so  well. 

Then,  as  I  watched  the  scramble  for  my  work. 

An  angel  came  and  beckoned  —  with  a  smirk  — 

"Fitz- Alfred  Massinger  De  Greene,"  she  said, 

"  Lift  up  your  optics  blue  and  look  ahead." 

The  which  I  did  —  for  you  must  understand 

At  all  times  I  obey  the  soft  command 

Of  angels,  whether  winged  ones  or  those 

Who  here  do  lighten  or  increase  our  woes. 

And  as  I  looked  I  saw  a  wondrous  sight 

That  dazzled,  't  was  so  marvelously  bright. 

As  well  it  might  be,  for  the  scroll  of  fame 

Stood  straight  before  my  eyes,  and  there  the  name- 

Sensation  sweet !    Sensation,  oh,  how  blest !  — 

Fitz-Alfred  M.  De  Greene  led  all  the  rest. 


Andante. 

I  swooned  with  very  joy,  and  then  I  woke 

As  yonder  church  bells  sounded  forth  the  stroke 

Announcing  mom ! 

I  need  not  here  unfold 
Just  how  I  rose  and  dressed.    The  crisp  and  cold 
Of  vnnter  lingered  in  the  atmosphere. 
Yet  not  for  me  could  anything  be  drear. 
The  while  that  dream  of  bliss  did  haunt  my  soul. 
Life  was  all  joy  unmixed  with  tearful  dole. 

Allegi-ctto. 

But  hist !    What  sound  is  that  I  seem  to  hear  ? 
The  postman's  whistle  breaks  upon  my  ear. 
A  missive  from  my  publisher  he  brings 
In  confirmation  of  my  dream  —  he  flings 
It  through  the  open  door. 

Be  quick  to  ope 
O  trusty  paper-knife,  this  envelope. 

Allegro. 

Egad,  it  must  be  true ;  a  check  falls  out. 
And  here  's  a  statement  of  the  sales,  no  doubt. 


Crescendo  Appassionato  Presto. 

Let  's  see :  one  thousand  copies  printed,  two 

Hundred  and  sixty-seven  for  re^dew, 

And  still  on  hand  when  this  year  was  begun  — 

Ye  Gods !  no  less  than  seven  thirty-one. 

"  Inclosed  find  twenty  cents  in  royalty  — 

Two  copies  sold  !  "   Scott !    They  -were  bought  by  me! 

Dolorosa. 

Roll  on,  drear  world,  nor  stop  to  think  of  me. 
I  go  to-day  across  the  salt,  salt  sea. 
I  '11  head  for  Russia,  where,  '"e  Czar  defied, 
I  '11  save  myself  th'  expense   .    suicide. 


JLdith  M.  Thomas. 


John  Kendrick  Bangs. 


IN  LIGHTER    VEIN. 


A  Stitch  in  Time  Saves  Nine. 
Dramatis  Persons. 

MAUD.  JANE. 

Afterward  COUSIN  WALTER. 

MAUD. 

The  honeysuckle  climbs  about 
Outside  the  window  on  the  trellis, 
The  flower-clusters  all  are  out  — 
Just  sniff  and  see  how  sweet  their  smell  is. 
Come,  let  us  go,  and  in  the  fields 
We  '11  pass  the  afternoon  together ; 
Come,  work  to  pleasure  always  yields 
On  days  rejoicing  in  such  weather. 

JANE. 

No,  no ;  I  found  this  coat  all  torn. 

You  know,  't  is  Walter's  smoking-jacket, 

And  there  's  a  button  — 


Oh,  forlorn 
Excuse  !  —  a  button  !  —  let  it  lack  it ! 
The  rent  was  bad,  but  after  all. 
Dear  sister  Jane,  why  should  you  sew  it  ? 
You  're  not  a  servant  at  his  call. 
Besides,  't  is  odds  he  '11  never  know  it. 
Come,  drop  the  nasty  thing  and  don 
Your  dear  old-fashioned  muslin  bonnet. 

JANE. 

No ;  I  must  sew  this  button  on. 

MAUD. 

At  ■window,  seeing  COUSIN  Walter  approaching. 
Then  go  the  while  I  work  upon  it. 

JANE. 

Handing  jacket  to  MAUD. 

Well,  if  you  will,  I  '11  run  and  dress. 
You  see  the  tear  's  already  mended. 

Exit  JANE  and  enter  cousin  Walter. 

COUSIN  WALTER. 

.Iftcr  an  adi)tiring glance  at  maud's  occupation. 

Dear  Maud  's  an  angel !  I  confess 

I  wonder  why  Jane  's  more  commended. 

Willi  am  Bard  Mc  Vickar. 
An   Undiscovered   Country. 

(IN    189a.) 

You  have  no  heart  ?  Ah,  when  the  Genoese 
Before  Spain's  monarchs  his  great  voyage  planned, 
Small  faith  had  they  in  worlds  beyond  the  seas  — 
KxvA  your  Columbus  yet  may  come  to  land  ! 

Samuel  R.  Elliott. 


Joe  Jefferson,  our  Joe. 

Joe  Jefferson,  our  Joe  Jeff., 

When  first  we  knew  your  form, 
You  traveled  round  the  country. 

And  took  the  barns  by  storm. 
But  now  't  is  hearts  you  hold,  Jeff. — 

You  took  them  long  ago  ; 
God's  blessings  on  your  kindly  phiz, 

Joe  Jefferson,  our  Joe. 

Joe  Jefferson,  our  own  Joe, 

We  've  followed  you  around  ; 
But  though  a  trifle  old  now 

We  yet  in  front  are  found. 
And  still  beyond  this  stage,  Jeff., 

We  '11  follow  where  you  go. 
And  greet  you  when  the  curtain  's  raised, 

Joe  Jefferson,  our  Joe  ! 

Charles  Hettry  Webb. 

Never  Despair. 

Unto  a  great  big  magazine  I  took  one  sunny  day 
A  light  and  airy  symphony,  and  I  was  greatly  shocked 

To  hear  the  editor  in  honeyed  accents  softly  say, 
"  It  is  lovely,  it  is  beautiful,  but  ws  are  overstocked." 

Then  to  another  editor  I  took  my  symphony : 

He  read  it  with  a  smile  that  showed  his  joy  and  hap- 
piness. 
"  It  is  just  the  thing  for  August,  and  I  like  it,  but  you  see 
Our  August  number  's  all  made  up  and  ready  for  the 
press." 

"  I'll  try  again,"  I  shouted  in  my  dire  extremity, 
As  I  took  it  to  an  editor  who  read  it,  all  elate. 
While  he  murmured, "  It 's  delightful,  oh,  delightful,  l^ut, 
dear  me, 
We  printed  something  similar  in  eighteen    sixty- 
eight." 

I  smiled  a  very  wicked  smile,  and  like  the  hand  of  fate 

Came  do wn  upon  that  editor  who  called  my  ode  divine. 
"  How  could  you,  sir,  have  printed  aught  like  this  in 
sixty-eight. 
When  your  magazine  first  saw  the  light  in  eighteen 
sixty-nine?  " 

The  editor  looked  foolish,  for  he  knew  that  he  was 
caught. 
And  he  chuckled,  oh,  he  chuckled  like  the  greatest 
fiend  alive ; 
But  like  a  worthy  man  he  sent  me  from  him  rapture- 
fraught. 
With  my  fingers  wound  about  a  purple  checklet  for 
a  five. 

R.  K.  Munkittrick. 

To  an  American  Rab. 

(from  his  friends.) 
Nor  Byron's  "  Boatswain  "  nor  the  silken  "  Flush  " 
Of  England's  laureled  poetess  ;  nor  he 
That  watched  by  dying  Ailie's  bed  to  see 
The  knife's  swift  issue  and  to  feel  the  hush 
Of  life's  still  sea  —  I  say  thou  need'st  not  blush 
With  these  to  have  compared  thy  pedigree. 
Thy  virtues,  or  thy  beauties  rare.    For  we 
Know  well  thy  Gordon  line,  thy  sudden  rush 
O'er  stubbled  field,  thy  quivering  nose  low-bent, 
Thy  flag-like  tail  flung  wide ;  and  well  we  know 
Thy  deep-set,  solemn  eye  aglow  —  attent 
Upon  the  family  or  the  field.    We  owe 
Thee  praise  for  love,  and  faith  magnificent, 
And  bless  thy  heart's  perpetual  overflow. 


Horace  S.  Fiske, 


THE  DB  VINNE  PRESS,  NEW  YORK. 


Pears'  Soap 

People  don't  know  what  alkali  is  and  does. 

A  person  with  a  tough  enough  skin  can  wash 
with  ammonia,  liquid  ammonia  —  that's  an  ex- 
treme example  of  alkali  —  no  harm  done  beyond 
a  little  roughness  of  skin. 

A  less  extreme  example  of  alkali  is,  perhaps, 
any  soap  you  ever  saw  or  heard  of  but  Pears'.  A 
chemist,  who  doesn't  know,  will  tell  you  "Of 
course  there  is  alkali  in  it;"  but  let  him  find  one- 
millionth  part  in  Pears' ! 

There  isn't  a  millionth  part  in  Pears' ;  there  isn't 
any;  nothing  to  roughen  the  skin,  or  make  it 
harsh,  or  tender,  or  red. 

It  is  soap  and  nothing  but  soap;  pure  soap; 
and  pure  soap  is  as  gentle  as  oil  itself  to  the 
living  skin.  It  clears  and  smooths  and  softens  it; 
makes  it  transparent  if  possible;  empties  it;  stimu- 
lates action;  and  so  affects  the  complexion  and 
health. 

Perhaps  no  other  soap  in  the  world  is  free  of 
alkali.     Chemists  are  of  that  opinion. 


Sept.  '93. 


Your  Eyes  and  Ears  are  what  we 
want;  we  already  have  what  you 
want  —  pianos. 

But  how  can  you  tell  that  ours  are 
what  you  want  ?     By  your  eyes  and  ears. 

If  you  can't  come  to  us  we  send  our 
pianos  to  you  ;  at  our  own  risk  ;  and  if 
they  don't  suit  your  eyes  and  ears,  we 
take  them  back,  paying  freights  both  ways. 

You  can  be  as  particular  as  you  like 
about  being  suited;  you  can't  be  as  par- 
ticular as  we  are  to  suit  you. 

Your  old  piano  pays  in  part  for  the 
new,  and  you  pay  the  rest  about  as  you 
like,  in  reason.  The  question  is,  which 
few  thousands  of  the  sixty  million  people 
are  you  ? 

If  this  looks  well,  if  it  sounds  well,  if 
you  would  see  and  hear  more,  send  your 
address  for  catalogue  and  further  informa- 
tion; free. 

Ivers  &  Pond  Piano  Co. 

183  Tremont  Street, 
B05T0N. 


LI    '''■■' 


/4 


Solid  Silver 


Exclusively. 


Trade 


MARK 


STERLING. 


WHITING  M'FG  CO. 

Silversmiths, 

Union  Square  Sc  i6th  St. 
New  York. 


WE    MAKE    SOLID    SILVER    ONLY, 
AND    OF    BUT 
ONE    GRADE  — THAT    OF   STERLING,    lu^ij  FINE; 
THEREFORE    PURCHASERS   SECURE    ENTIRE 

FREEDOM    FROM    FALSE    IMPRESSIONS, 
AND  THE  QUESTION 

"is   it   SILVER    OR    IS    IT    PLATED?" 
IS   NEVER    RAISED 
CONCERNING    A  GIFT 
BEARING   OUR 

TRADE-MARK. 


JSP^     S:^5b^' 


Burley  &  Company, 


CHICAGO. 

77,  79  and  8i  State  Street. 

Prominent  among  the  attractions  in  our  Fall 
Season  Stock  of  Fine  China  and  Glass  will  be 
a  magnificent  assortment  of  richly  enameled 
and  gilded 

Austrian  Glassware, 

representing  in  the  highest  degree  the  skill 
and    taste   shown    by    these    artisans. 

Visitors    Cordially    Invited. 

Correspondence    Solicited. 

Burley  &  Company. 


Haviland 


IS -MARKED 


Porcelain 


ON    DECORATED 


IMPORTED   BY   PRINCIPAL  CHINA    DEALERS. 


The  Women  Will  Vote  This  Fall, 

As  they  always  do  when 
given  an  opportunity, 
that  for  inviting  clean- 
Hness,  beauty,  and  du- 
rabihty,  to  say  nothing 
of  the  labor  saved  in 
keeping  them  pure  and 
sweet,  the  Standard 
Porcelain-Lined  Baths 
are  away  ahead  of  all 
others.  They  are  all 
alike  inside,  and  as 
beautiful  outside  as  you 
wish,  and  are  guar- 
anteed. 

STANDARD  MFG.  CO. 

Box  1454  A,  Pittsburgh,  Pa. 


Catalogue  free. 


CHATELAINES. 

Ladies'  Watches  are  now  worn  suspended  from  a  chatelaine 
pinned  to  the  waist.  The  one  illustrated  is  of  14-carat  gold,  either 
polished  or  Roman  finish,  and  made  in  three  sizes — $7- 50,  $10.00, 
and  $12.00.  Designs  in  enameled  flowers,  gold  wire  twisted  into 
various  artistic  shapes,  Fleurs-de-lis,  Bow-nots,  etc. ,  vary  from  $5 
to  $15.  Others,  ornamented  with  Pearls,  Diamonds,  Rubies,  or 
Sapphires,  range  in  price  from  $15.00  to  $100.00  and  upwards. 

We  will  be  pleased  to  send  an  assortment  of  anything  in  our 
stock  for  examination  and  selection.     Send  for  price-list. 

Jewelry  worn  and  out  of  style  accumulates  in  every  household. 
If  you  will  send  us  yours  by  registered  mail,  we  will  either  credit 
your  account  in  exchange  for  more  serviceable  articles,  or  purchase 
It  outright  if  preferred. 

J.   H.  Johnston  &  Co. 
17  Union  Square,  N.  Y. 

Diamonds,  Watches,  Jewelry,  Silverware. 


Rent's  j^otary 
^nife-6leaning  Deadlines. 


Over  100,000  in  use  in  Euro- 
pean   Hotels    and  Families. 


FOR    S.\LE    BY 


LEWIS  &  CONGER, 

House  Furnishers, 
130  &  132  West  42d  St.  New  =York. 


Watch 

After  September  ist,   at 
any  jeweler  s  of  the  first 
class   for   a   gentleman  s 
neiu  zvatch,  very  thin,  of 
sviall     size,     beautifully 
proportioned,  and,  best  of 
all,    the  finest    time- 
keeper    ever     made. 
It  is  guar- 
anteed by 
tJie  Company, 
and  a 
certificate 
goes  with  it. 
It  'i"  called  the 

New   Howard." 

We  also  make 

Hall,  Office,  and 

Tower  Clocks  of 

celebrated 

quality. 

Ask  for 

thon  at 

any 

jeweler's, 

and  scud 

to  lis  for 

catalogues. 

THE  E.  HOWARD  ^"f^^^.^^f^T'^T^""''- 

WXTrn  PrrTAry  TA  < 338  WaslungtonSt.,  Boston. 
nAiln  &  ILUIK  lU.  ^34  Washington  St.,  CMcago. 


44 


Cleaning  House. 

Hard  work  or  easy  work,  just 
as  you  choose.     If  you  find  it 
hard  work,    it's    because    you 
won't  use  Pearline. 
You'd  rather  waste  your    time  and 
your  strength  with    that  absurd  rub- 
bing  and  scrubbing, 
/y      I    Of  course  it's  hard — that's  why  Pearline 
"^     I    was  invented — that's  why  Pearline  is  a 
household  word.     You  don't    know  how 
easy  it  can  be,  until  you  let  Pearline  do 
the  work.     Then  house-cleaning  slips  right  along. 
It  is  over  before  you  know  it. 

Peddlers  and  some  unscrupulous  grocers  will  tell  you  "  this  is  as  good  as"  or  "  the  same 
as  Pearline."     IT'S  FALSE— Pearline  is  never  peddled,  and  if  your  grocer  sends  you 

T^  1       something  in  place   of  Pearline,    do  the   honest  thing — send  it   back. 

OaClC  t*         ^  ggg  JAMES  PYLE,  New  York. 


OIlIIESKrTuaLla     H.XJC3-S. 


(Look/or  this  wiudaw.) 
Money  saved   by  buying   direct   from  the  only  exclusive   Kug 
importing  house  in  the  United  States. 

VAN   GAASBEEK  &  ARKELL, 
935  Broadway,  cor.  83d  Street,  New-York. 


Fine  Bedding,  Spring  Beds, 
Brass  and  Iron  Bedsteads, 
Down  Quilts,  Cushions,  etc. 

Illustrated  Catalogue  free  if  you  mention  The  Century. 

CHAS.  P.  ROGERS  &  CO. 

264  and  266  Sixth  Ave.,  Cor.  17th  St.N.Y. 

Sole  Agents  for 

FISHER  BROWN  &  CO.  Birmingham,  Eng. 


JVIAeHljME-JVIADE  AJND /rf^TISTI©  ]HAfJD-f  IJ^ISJHED 
I  *BESTf  TIME-KEEPING* 

I     JHIGJHEST    QU/rlslTIES    Oj^bY    JVIAJ^Uf ACTUF^ED. 

I  «  FACTORY,     GENEVA",    SWITZERLAND.        * 


Established   A.  D.  1810. 


Sold  by  all  leading  WATCHMAKERS  and  JEWELERS  of 
United  States  and  Canada. 


I  YE /\R  THE 
"1847 


Rogers" 

oo3.s 


mm 


Tl5y  [[dvc 
'  Stood  tl|e 

,  TEST 
for  r\early 

50  YEARS, 

that    ll\^Y 

ar^:^  tl\^ 

ftEST. 


1847  Rogers  Bros.  Ai  @ 

SPOONS,  FORKS,  KNIVES,  Etc, 

Are  Sold  ly  all  the  Principal  Dealers. 

OTHER  BRANDS    OF    ROGERS    GOODS   ARE  SOMETIMES   SXJBSTITUTED 

FOR   THE   GENUINE    "  184-7  "    AS   THEY  ADMIT 

OF   A    LARGER   PROFIT. 

If  you  are  not  sure  where  the  genuine  1847  Rogers  Goods  can  be  obtained,  address 

The  Meridbn  Britannia  Co.,  Meriden,  Conn.     Illustrations  of  latest  designs 

and  valuable  information  will  be  mailed  you.  (mention  this  paper.) 


800 

Louis  XIV.  Bow 

Knot.  Turquoise 

and  Pearls, 

$3.00. 


TK?  p»7^CB4i^^s- 


Isir-^' 


Louis  XIV.    Bow 

Knot.  2  Diamonds. 

$3.00. 


We  want  YOU  to  wear  our  RINGS  and 
BUY  them  at  FAIR  PRICES. 
If  your  JEWELER  doesn't  keep  them,  WRITE  TO 
US  for  information  where  they  can  be  had. 


Two-Stone  Tiffany 
Larg:e  Pearl,  with 
Cape  Ruby  or  Em- 
erald Crystal, 
$9.75. 


1Q  MAIDEN  LANE  NEK  YORK. 

OLDEST    KING   rVAKEKS  IN   AMERICA. 


618 

Serpent,  2  doublets 

any  color,  $7.50. 

Diamond&Doublet 

$13-50. 


/flv.V"^^^^  ^  rM..  • i.    -L- 1--.. 


Playing  at  house  cleaning  is 
tiresome,  but  real  house 
cleaning  is  more  so. 

Gold  Dust 

Washing: 

Powder 

does  the  work  so  well,  and 
makes  it  so  much  easier,  that 
half  the  terrors  of  house 
cleaning  are  removed  by  its 
use.  4  lb.  package  25  cents. 
At  your  grocers.    Try  it. 


N.   K.   FAIRBANK  &  CO.,  Sole  Manufacturers, 

CHICAGO,  ST.  LOUIS,  NEW  YORK,  PHILADELPHIA,  BOSTON, 

BALTIMORE,  NEW   ORLEANS,  SAN   FRANCISCO, 

PORTLAND,  ME.,   PORTLAND,  ORE.,   PITTSBURGH    AND    MILWAUKEE. 


The 
Correct 

Thing, 


The  referee  who  was  asked 


which  was  the  correct  ex- 


pression ,  ' '  putting  up  at ' " 
or  "m"  a  certain  hotel, 


replied  '  'neither ;  putting 
up  with  it  is  the  right 


By   the  same 


token,  when  one  is  now 
asked  whether  a  steam  pump  or  a  gas  engine 


is  better  for  house  or  office-building  pump- 


ing, the  correct  reply  is  "neither,"  for  the 


Goulds  Triplex  Electric  Pump  has  done 
away  with  the  necessity  of  "putting  up" 
with  the  heat,  smoke,  gas,  ashes,  noise, 
smell,  care,  and  danger  that  belong  to  these 
old  style  ways  of  pumping.  The  new  way 
is  much  cheaper  too.      If  interested  in  any 


kind  of  pump  service,  our  catalogue  will 


give  you  the  modern  method  of  securing 
it.     Address 

The  Goulds  Mfg  Co., 

Seneca  Falls,  N.  Y. 

Warerooms:  16  Murray  St.,  New  York. 


A  HOUSEHOLD  NECESSITY  I 


A  perfect 

PAYS  FOR 

Combination 

'           ITSELF 

of  SIFTER, 

IBHlkzillMBj 

by  saving  time 

BIN  and  PAN. 

1        and  waste. 

Made  of  tin. 

kffilll'RfflFffl 

No  scattering. 

japanned  and 
gold  lettered. 

QEmJIiiSI^ 

No  Musty 

Easy  to  use. 

la 

Flour. 

Never  gets 

Keeps  flour 

out  of  order. 

dry  and  free 

Guaranteed. 

from  dust. 

Long-er  used, 

vermin,  etc. 

better  liked. 

Insures 

Simple, 

Clean, 

Practical, 

Sifted 

Reliable. 

MADE  OP  TIN    mM^ 

Flour 

HOLDS  A  SACK 

OR  F 

ULL  BARREL  OF  FLOUR. 

A  few  turns  of  the  cr.ank  sifts  enough  flour  for  a  baking  into 
the  removable  pan  which  is  shown  in  cut  partly  drawn  out. 

Mrs.  W.  H.  Townsencl,  Milton,  N.  Y.,  writes:  The  Perfec- 
tion is  well  named,  and  ought  to  be  in  every  family.  It  iS 
more  than  you  represent.  I  would  not  part  with  it  any 
sooner  than  with  mr  sewing  machine. 

Mrs.  H.  W.  True,  Watts  Flatts,  N.  Y.,  writes:  It  is  the  best 
and  most  useful  article  I  ever  saw.  It  sifts  flour  perfectly. 
No  waste,  and  .saves  enough  flour  in  a  year  to  pay  for  itself. 

Mrs.  M.  C.  Martin.  New  Brunswick,  N.  J.,  writes.  You  may 
send  me  another  ijO-lb,  bin;  as  this  is  the  third  bin  I  have 
bought  you  will  understand  that  we  appreciate  this  useful 
article. 


,  25  lbs.  S2.50 
Prices  )  50  lbs.  3.00 
to  hold)  100  lbs.       4.00 

'200  lbs.      6.00 

SHERMAN    & 
26  W.  LAKE  STREET, 


Your  dealer  sella  them  or  ought 
to.  If  he  does  not  please  write  to 
us.  AGENTS  WANTED. 

BUTLER,  Manufacturers, 
CHICAGO.  ILL. 


Nearly  a  Century  Old. 


THE 


Factory  Founded  in.  1797. 


Ch.  Field  Haviland 


LIMOGES   CHINA 


WHITE  WARE. 


IS    MARKED 


CFH 


CFH 

GDM 


FOR    SALE     BY    EVERY    CHINA    IMPORTER    AND    DEALER. 

SUMMER  COMFORTS. 

We  are  the  manufacturers  of  8of ,,  of  the  fine  down  quilts  made 
in  the  United  States.  Our  new  quilt,  "  Lanatus,"  is  not  a  down 
quilt,  but  made  of  fine  wool,  light,  fluffy  and  pure.  Its  prin- 
cipal advantages  over  a  down  quilt  are  that  it  is  one-third  the 
weight,  and  can  be  washed.  This  quilt  is  what  we  find  every 
one  has  been  looking  for ;  it  is  wanted  by  those  who  desire 
light  bedclothing,  yet  warm,  by  those  who  like  to  wash  their 
bedclothing  often  and  keep  it  in  perfect  condition,  by  invalids 
who  cannot  stand  the  weight  of  heavy  blankets,  and  by 
every  one  who  appreciates  luxury  in  bedding. 

Prices:   6  ft.  x  6  ft.,  $4.75;    6  ft.  x  7  ft.,  $5.50. 

Send  for   Catalogue  called   "Luxury   ix   Bedding,"   free. 

LUXURY   IN    BEDDING    MATERIALS. 

A.  J.  Mcintosh  &  CO.,  14  E.  15tli  St.,  New- York  City,  Manufactvirers  Down  Quilts. 

What  a  Woman  Can  Do. 

SHE  can  wash,  rinse  and  dry  10  or  100  dishes  at  one  time  with  a 
machine,  without  chipping  or  breaking  a  dish,  and  without  using 
a  dish  mop  or  towel ;  she  can  save  from  two  to  three  hours  per  day  ol 
disagreeable  work,  and  prevent  the  destruction  of  her  hands,  by  sim- 
ply purchasing  the  light-running  and  noiseless  Stevens  Dish  Washing 
Machine.  You  run  no  risk,  as  every  machine  is  guaranteed  to  do  its 
work  perfectly,  or  money  refunded. 

Send  for  illustrations,  testimonials  and  special  offer.     Agents  wanted. 

STEVENS  DISH  WASHING  MACHINE  CO. 

No.  37  Arcade,  CLEVELAND,  O. 

One  of  Ten  Thousand. 

Metallic  bedsteads,  being  ornamental,  sanitary, 
easily  cleaned,  and  affording  no  concealme^it 
for   ifisects,   are  fast   S2ipplanting  all  others. 

This  elegant  bedstead  of  brass  is  one  of  10,000  which  we  carry 
in  stock  here  in  America.  Of  most  desirable  design,  and  made 
of  selected  English  material.  This  bedstead  with  upholstered 
spring  and  pure  horsehair  mattress  in  three  sizes  —  4  ft.  x  6  ft.  6, 
4ft.  6  X  6ft.  6,  5  ft.  X  6 ft.  6  — at»83.   Illustrated  Catalogue  free. 


HOSEINS  &  SEWEIL, 

Man  uf  actu  rers , 
Sept.  '93. 


London  and  Birmingham,  England. 

16  E.  15th  St.  (adjoining  Tiffany's),  N.  Y. 

266-268  Wabash  Ave.,  Chicago,  III. 


SA  to  90  Beekman  Street, 
NEW-YORK. 


THE  J.  L  MOTT  IRON  WORKS, 


311  &  313  Wabash  Avenue, 
CHICAGO. 


(_ci  jr  ^1  t    1     1    Lj    1    t  M    tt  Ir.jii  ' 

KOLIi-RIM    PORCELAIN    ^VASH-TBAYS.      (patent  applied  for.) 
The  desideratum  in  modern  plumbing  work  is  to  have  the  various  apphances  set  up  open  and  accessible,  and  wherever  possible  without 
woodwork.      In  the  Wash-Trays  shown  the  Roll-Rim  takes  the  place  of  a  wood  top  or  capping,  thereby  raaking_  a  more  desirable  article 
from  a  sanitary  standpoint,  and  adding  materially  to  their  fine  appearance.     Interested  parties  are  invited  to  visit  our  showrooms  and  ex- 
amine these  and  other  sanitary  appliances.      Illustrated  price-list  mailed  on  application. 


11 


B£II"L£!E 


All  have  a 
DOUBLE  CENTRE  DRAUGHT 
This  ensures  perfect  com- 
bustion,   and   the 
Brightest  and  Best  Light. 

THEY   ARE 

THE   ONLY    LAMPS 

THAT    HAVE    THIS 

FEATURE. 

Accept  no  substitute,  and 
be  sure  the  stamp 

is   on   the   lamp. 
These  lamps  are  made  in 
the  greatest  variety   and 
are  noted   for  beauty  of 
design  and  finish. 


SEND   FOR   OUR   LITTLE  BOOK 


IT     WILL    INTEREST    YOU. 

We  also  manufacture  a  large  line  of 

GAS  AND  ELECTRIC  LIGHT  FIXTURES 

AND    ART    METAL    COOPS. 

BRADLEY  &HDBBARD  MFG.  CO, 

NEW  YORK.     BOSTON.     CHICAGO. 
FACTORIES;       .       ■       MEBIDSN,  CONN. 


LOWELL 


For  nearly  half  a  century,  Lowell  Carpets  have  been 
acknowledged  by  all  to  be 

The  word 
"LOWErii" 
APPEARS  IN 
CAPITAI.  liET- 
TERS  in  the  back  of 
liOwell  Wilton 
and  Body  Brussels 
at  every  repeat  of  the 
pattern.  LOOK 
CAREFUI.I.Y 


to  the  trade-marks,  and 
be  sure  you  get  the 
genuine 

LOWErii 
CARPETS. 


THE 
BEST 


The      LiOWEIiL 
INGRAINS    are 

wound  upon  a  hollow 
stick,  which  the  United 
States  Court  decided 
to  be  a  valid  trade- 
mark. The  stick  is 
in  two  solid  pieces, 
with  the  name  of  the 
LOWEIiL 
COMPANY 
stamped  within. 

BEWARE    OF 
liVnTATIONS. 


These  goods  are  invariably  full  width,  and  may  be 
had  in  a  large  variety  of  designs,  which  for  technique 
and  coloring  are  unequaled,  rendering  them  especially 
appropriate  for  artistic  homes. 

For  Sale  l>y  all  First-class  Dealers. 


CARPETS 


Ordinary 
Eyes 


Such  as  Sam  Weller  had,  will  en- 
able anj^body  to  tell  a  "YALE" 
lock  from  its  many  worthless  imi- 
tations with  small  keys.     A  sham 


lock  is  a  dangerous  sham.  To 
avoid  the  bad,  and  to  select  the 
«'YALE"  simply  examine  the  Kej-^s, 


The  Key  of  every  genuine  ♦'  YALE" 
lock  has  "YALE"  stamped  on  it, 
which    guarantees     convenience , 
strength  and  perfect  security. 
Sold  wherever  Locks  selL 


LAMPS 


There  is  one  best  kind ;  that  is, 
lamps  with  draft  inside  the  tubu- 
lar wick,  and  outside  too.  They 
are  known  as  central-draft 
lamps.  They  are  best  because 
they  give  the  most  Hght. 

There  are  a  dozen  central 
draft  lamps  ;  there  is,  of  course, 
one  best ;  and  that  is  the  Pitts- 
burgh. 

It  is  clean ;  the  others  are 
rather  dirty.  It  is  easy ;  the 
others  are  troublesome. 

Send  for  a  primer. 

PITTSBURGH  BRASS   COMPANY, 

PITTSBURGH,  PENN. 


JHARTSHDRrS 


)SHADrROLLER|> 

Beware  of  Imitations.  /t     ^^^„/}r 

NOTICE  ,.     /^^xC^'^s 

AUTOGRAPH. y^/    i^^-^^LABEL 

rt/^  AND  GET 

T-HEGENUiNE 


iHARTSHOm 

Insist  upon  having  the  HARTSHORN. 


DO  YOU  REQUIRE  A  SECURE  LOCK? 

By  virtue  of  its  superior  merits  the 
"CHAMPION"  6 -Lever  Bronze 
Padlock  is  largely  used  by  the  governments 
of  United  States,  Canada,  Cliina,  etc. 
No  competitor  combines  so  great  a  degree  of 
security,  durability  and  convenience. 
It  is  absolutely  proof  against  injurious  effects 
from  any  climate,  salt  water  or  damp  situation. 
The  experts  of  the  Franklin  Institute 
pronounce  it  "  practically  uupickable." 
FOR  SALE  BY  THE  BEST  TRADE  EVERYWHERE. 


THE  "CHAMPION" 
KEYLESS  DEED  OR  TREASURE  BOXES, 


Box,  Closet,  Safe  and  Locker  Door.  Ifnot  kept  by  nearest  respon- 
sible dealer,  we  will  forward  sample  Box  ^,,_C3Syi»!!L 
or  Lock  on  receipt  of  price.  Applicants 
who  send  us  3c.  in  stamps  for  our  Illus- 
trated Catalogue  will  receive  with  :t 
our  new  Steel  pocket  tool  bearing  our 
address. 

MILLER  LOCK  CO.,  Lock  Manufacturers, 

Frankford,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 


THE   UNEQUALED    SOLID  WHITE   CROCKERY 
STATIONARY    WASH-TUBS. 


Get  the  1>est«  Do  not  risk  your  health  by  using  mate- 
rials that  will  leak,  absorb,  decay,  and  become  malodorous 
and  infectious. 

Our  Solid  White  Croclcery  Wasli- 
Xubs,  having  stood  the  test  of  continued  use  in  thou- 
sands of  our  best  families  and  hospitals  for  over  fifteen 
years,  stand  unrivaled,  being  imperisliahle, 
Tvell-erla^sed*  non-porons,  and  as  easily  cleansed 
as  a  dinner-plate. 

SOLID  WHITE  CROCKERY  SINKS. 
Send  for  price-list  and  catalogue. 

STEWART    CERAMIC 

Chicago  Branch,  2  1  I  Wabash  Ave.  Chicago. 


SARGENT'S  Rolling,  Reclining 
Carrying  Chairs. 


Back  Rests,  Bed  Trays,  Invalids'  Beds  and  Tables,  Commodes, 
Earth  Closets,  Sanitary  Rubber  Goods,  Hospital  Supplies,  and 
everything  for  invalids.  Full  information  and  illustrated  catalogues 
free  by  addressing  SARGENT  MFG.  CO.,  either  Eastern  Office, 
814  Broadway,  New-York;  or  Factory,  Muskegon,  Mich. 
Quote  Century  Magazine. 


CO. 

312  Pearl  Street,  New-York. 

SARGENT'S  ROTART  BOOKCASES. 

BALL   BEARING. 

We  make  cases  adapted 
to  every  requirement. 
For  Homes,  Library, 
Legal  or  Commercial 
use.  Also  special  cases 
for  the  "Centviry" 
Dictionary. 

Illustrated  Catalogue 
free.         Address 

Either  814  Broadway,  New- York,  or 

Quote  Century  Magazine.  MuskegOll,  Micll. 


TRO-SiUCOM  A  SAFE  METHOD. 

Every  housekeeper  who  employs  Electbo-Shioon  enjoys 

perfect   freedom  fi-om   anxiety  regarding  her  silverware 

during  the  process   of    cleaning,  scratching   or   wearing 

fit.    being  impossible,  while  the  highest  degree  of  brilliancy  is 

'  obtained.     Try  it  after  removing  your  ware  from  its  place 

of  safe  keeping  during  the  summer  months. 

The  experiment  costs  nothing;  we'll  supply  the 
material  for  the  asl<:ing,  or  full-sized  box  post- 
paid for  1  5  cents  in  stamps.   Your  grocer  has  It. 

51  CVER   POLISH   the  electro  silicon  CO.,Propr's,  72  John  Street,  New  York. 


F.  A.  SINCLAIR'S 

COMMON  SENSE  CHAIRS,  SETTEES  &  ROCKERS 

Are  just  what  their  name 
imphes.  You  cannot  buy 
more  sensible,  easy  seats. 
Ask  your  dealer  for 
them,  or  send  stamp  for 
Catalogue  to 

F.  A.  SINCLAIR, 

MOTTVtLLE, 

Fireside  Comfort  for  Two.  ONONDAGA  CO.  N.  Y. 

Special  low  freight  to  all  parts  of   the   United    States. 


INVALID 
ROLLING   CHAIRS 

Fully  equal  to  any  in  the  market  for  com- 
fort, strength,  durability  and  finish. 
MANUFACTURED   BY 

H.  S.  COLICHTLY, 

203  auarry  Street,  Phila.,  Pa. 

Send  for  price-list. 


Bath  Cabinet.  Rolling  Chair. 


A  CURE  lor 
Rheumatism, 
Liver  and  Skin 
Diseases,  Etc. 


A  Priceless 
Boon  to  those 
who  arc  unable 

to  walk. 


RECLrKrnsrG  chaies, 

COUCHES,  COMODES,' 
BACK  BESTS,  BIDETS,  and  other 

INVALIDS'    FURNITURE. 

Desciiptive  Lists  Sent  Free. 

Our  Chairs  are  used  In  the  U.  S.  Hospitals. 
NEW  HAVEN  CHAIR  CO. 

NEW  HAVEN,   CONN. 

^^g^2^  f^  INDIAN  ARROW  POINTS  of  tlint.pp. 
KM^MB^^  "  15c.  Archseological  Hand  Book 
*  ItgS-'"  33  illus.,  10c.  List  of  prices  paid  for 
rare  coins,  6c.     R.  W.  Mercer.  Cincinnati.  O. 

There  's  COMFORT  in  the  use  of 
The  "Acme"  Freezer. 

Freezes  its  full  measure  of  cream  in  3  minutes.     We 

guarantee  it. 
Freezes  two  mixtures  at  one  operation. 
Makes  better  cream  than  any  other. 
A  child  can  easily  do  the  work. 
No  wooden  i>ail,  no  cast  iron,  no  zinc. 

Send  for  circular  and  let  ns  tell  you  all  about  it. 

PALMER    HARDWARE   MFG.  CO. 
Troy,  N.  Y. 


"  He  is  well  paid  that  is  well 
satisfied." 

Merchant  of  Venice,  Act  4,  Scene  i. 

As  the  whole  family  say  after 
trying  the  "  Efficient,"  made 
by  Nevius  &  Haviland,  500 
West  42d  St.,  N.  Y.  City. 


if  oot  presently  interested.) 


WHEEL       /^CHAIRS 

for   INVALIDS        y^^^i/      »"«*  CRIPPLES. 

To  propel  one's  self,  or  /^^^^SSS^  to  be  pushed  about  in, 
comfortably,  easily,  and  UUnflf^^D)  V«3v  of^  t^e  reliable  sort. 
Send  stamp  for  catalog  ^^^S^^^  ^  giving  cut  prices  on  all 
styles  and   sizes.  ^^^^^^  Quote  The  Century. 

SMITH  WHEEL  CHAIR  CONCERN,  120  William  St.  New- York. 


(No  friend  yoQ  might  write  in  behalf  of  7  ^  ) 


W.  C.  VOSBUFGH^  M  FgIoI 

(limited),  1 

BROOKLYN,  N,Y.    CHICAGO,  ILL,  \ 

DESIGNERS  | 

AND  MANUFACTURERS  OF  I 

GAS,  ELECTRIC j 

-     AND     -  i 

COMBINATION     | 

FIXTURES 

ASK  FOR  THEM 
of  tlie  most  respon-  :: 
sible  dealer  of  your  :; 
city. 

I  QUALITY  AND  WORKMANSHIP  GUARANTEED. 


Hard  Woocl 
Mantels. 

The  Robt.  Mitchell  Furniture  Co.,  Cincin- 
nati, O.,  make  and  sell  Wood  Mantels  in  all 
the  Hard  Woods,  at  prices  ranging  from 
$6.50;  and  ship  them  by  freight  to  any  rail- 
road station,  ready  to  be  put  in  place  by  an 
ordinary  carpenter. 

An  illustrated  catalogue  of  many  styles  will 
be  sent  free  to  any  one  who  will  mention  where 
this  advertisement  was  seen  and  inclose  eight 
cents  in  stamps  for  postage. 

THE  ROBT.  MITCHELL  FURNITURE  CO. 
Manufacturers.  CINCINNATI,  OHIO. 

Established  1836. 

J.W,  BOUGHTOJV,  Phila.  Pa.,  Largest  Maiiuracturei 


PARQUET  FLOORS 

Plain  &^ Ornamental.  Thick  and  Thin. 


For  Parlors,  Halls, 
Libraries,  Sitting, 
Bath,  and  Dining 
Rooms,  OtEces, 
Stores,  <S;c.,  and 
BORDERS 

for  RUGS. 
AlsoManufacturer 
of  Egy  l>  t  i  an  and 
Moorish  Fret 
Work,  tirilles. 
Folding  Screens. 
Fire  Screens,  <tc. 


Branches:  — BOUGHTON  «fc  TERWIL,MGEK 

23d  St.,  under  5th  Ave.  Hotel,  N.  Y.  and  286  Fulton  St. ,  Brooklyn. 
BOUGHTON  &;  I.lNVILIiE,  2Ul  Tremont  St.,  Boston. 
Send  for  book  of  designs.    No  charge  for  estimates. 


HARTMANS  PATENT  INSIDE 
SLIDING   WINDOW  BLIND. 

CAUTION On  the  2d  of  May  last  the 

United  States  Court  granted  an  injunction 
against  Jacob  Durstine  for  infringement  of 
the  above  popular  blinds  —  therefore  address 
the  undersigned.  Send  4c.  stamp  for  80- 
page  illustrated  Catalogue.  Address  for  the 
Northwest  to  the  Pacific  Coast  The  llartman 
Mfg.  Co.  Portage,  Wisconsin.  For  balance  of 
U.  S.  A.  address  THE  IIARTMAJI  SLIDISG 
BLIND  CO.  22  Beaver  St.,  Crestline.  Ohio. 


Something  cool  for  summer,  AIR  MATTRESSES.  The  only  MATTRESS 
that  is  perfectly  clean,  pure  and  healthy.  Makes  the  finest  BED  in 
the  world.  Requires  no  springs.  AIR  CUSHIOSK  upholstered  in  any 
material  for  Easy  Chairs,  Couches,  Window  Seats,  Carriages  and 
YACHTS.     Metropolitan  Air  Goods  Co.,  7  Temple  PI.,  Boston. 

iviT.!".'«  PORTABLE    BATHS. 

9'   W     t,l"Wj         Best  ever  Known.  Wk„l.,.u  .„d  El,i.,l. 

Agents  Wanted  Everywhere. 

l^— A  J^^ag^^^^^^^^^Q,       Send  for  Circulars. 

E.  J.  KNOWLTON, 

Ann  Arbor.  Mich. 

All    kinds    of   HARDWOOD    FLOORS,    plain 
and  ornamental,  thick  and  thin.     End-wood  Mosaic, 
Parquetry,   Wood-Carpet.     Any   good  carpenter 
can  lay  them.      Brushes  and  Wax   for  polishing 
floors.     Write   for   circular  "  On  care  0/  Hard- 
wood Floors."     Catalogues  free. 

WOOD-MOSAIC  CO. 

81  Hebard   St.,  Rochester,  N,  Y. 
^fe^  315  Fifth  Ave.,  N.  Y.  City. 


.^.».  J*J..ja.*A*^AJfcAAAAAAA^**.**-A-.<HSg) 


Collecting  Spoons?  | 
0ur"SUNNY"80UTH"J 


Coffee,  $2.00 
Tea.  2.50 
Orange,  3.00 
AIIGilt  Bowls. 

Other  Special 
Spoous. 


GREENLEAF     J 
&  CROSBY,* 
JACKSONVILLE,    ^ 

Florida* 


Ornamental  Hardwood  Floors 

Walls,  Borders,  Wainscotings,  Ceilings, 

OF  FINEST  GRADES.      Foreign  and  Domestic  Hardwoods. 


WRITE  FOR  BOOK  OF  DESIGNS. 

THE  INTERIOR  HARDWOOD  CO.,  indianapolis.lnd. 

JflRIHIET'FLOORIDG 

-2>      139  FIFTH  AVFNtTE,  NEW-YORK. 


Designs  in  satinwood,  mahogany,  oak,  cherry,  etc.,  Louis  XVI., 
Moorish,  Japanese  and  other  styles  to  harmonize  with  wood-work. 
Wood  Carpeting  at  low  cost.  THESE  FI.OOBS  ARE 
EASIJLY  I-AID  BY  A  GOOD  CARPENTER.  Full 
directions  and  plan  with  each  floor.     Send  for  Book  of  Designs. 


Cv^CVwC^  Price  25  Cents 


POCKET  CAMERA 


Post  /qculcI  in.  U.S. 


A  Sensational  Mirthmakerl 

No  cbeniicals  or  Dry-plates. 

More   fun    and    entertainment 

than  any  $2,-,  CAMERA.    You 

press  tliB  ball,  everybody  langhsl 

Satisfaction  or  money  returned. 

Order  at  once.      Dept.  "  12." 

MAGIC  INTRODUCTION  CO. 

3i21  Broadway,  New  York. 

Other  novelties  ready. 


WINDOW  CORD 

I'lT  hanf;iDK  Sash  Weights. 
.<■■'.- .-'  'or  Satuple. 
SAMSON   CORDAGE  WORKS,' 
115  Congress  St.  Boston,  Mass. 


GREAT  COMFORT  AND 
LITTLE    COST ! 

Combined  in  a  lu.xurious,  elegant 

TURKISH  COUCH 

With  adjustable  head.    Upholstered  in 

standard  plush,  any  color,  or 

in  tapestry.     Address 

The  Fred.  S.Tncker  FnrnitnreCo.  A  St.  Peoria,  III. 

FRENCH,  CARISBAD  OR  VIENNA  CHINA. 

INDIVIDUAL  Cups  and  S.iucers.    Fine  dec- 
oration, with 
Handle,  all  alike 
and  saucer, 
four,  $3.55; 


Gold   Band 
different.     One  cup 

,, two,  $1.90;  three,  $2.75; 

five,  $4.30;  six,  $5.00.  Royal 
Worcester  tints  with  fine  decoration.  Tea, 
$2.25;  Coffee,  $2.50;  After-dinner  Coffee, 
$2.00;  Moustache  Coffee,  $2.75.  Shipped  by 
express.  PREPAID,  to  any  I 

the  United  States  r ' 

one  to  your  friend 

tion  will  please  you.    EWINC  BROS. 

816  Market  Street,  WhceUnK,  W.  Va. 


THERE    IS   A  WIDE    DIFFERENCE 

between  a  piano  that  is  not  right  in  any  one  essential 
and  one  that  is  right  in  all  respects,  particularly  in 
tone,  touch  and  durability.  Viewed  apart,  you  may 
not  notice  the  difference.  Buy  the  one  lacking  in 
essentials  or  compare  it  with 

TfxG 


{>lANO 


and  then  the  difference  will  be  apparent.  The  strange 
thing  about  it  is  this :  You  are  sure  to  be  asked  nearly 
as  much  for  the  cheaper  as  for  the  better  piano.  This 
seems  incredible.     It  is  true.     Why  ? 


THE   JOHN    CHURCH    CO.,    CINCINNATI,    O. 


Do  you  want  a  new  piano  ?  Do  you  want  to  exchange  an  old 
square  piano  or  an  organ  on  a  new  upright  ?  If  you  do,  we  want 
your  name  and  address.  To  get  them  we  will  send  you  free  the 
"  College  Album  of  Vocal  and  Instrumental  Music  by  Standard 
Composers,"  if  you  will  mention  where  this  advertisement  was 
seen  and  inclose  a  two-cent  stamp  for  postage. 


A  LIBRARY  OF  MUSIC. 

On  your  shelves  are  Shakespeare,  Scott,  Dickens, 
Thackeray,  and  all  your  favorites  in  literature :  these 
you  have  always  by  you  and  can  enjoy  when  you 
please.  But  Beethoven,  Wagner,  Chopin,  and  the 
many  masters  of  music — for  the  works  of  these,  when 
you  desire  to  hear  them,  you  are  obliged  to  go  to  the 
concert  or  opera,  and  even  then  you  are  not  permitted 
to  make  your  own  selections,  but  are  compelled  to 
listen  to  programmes  arbitrarily  arranged  by  others. 
If  you  owned  an  ^olian,  this  would  not  be  so.  This 
instrument  makes  the  masterpieces  of  music  as  avail- 
able as  those  of  literature;  beside  your  favorite  authors 
you  can  have  your  favorite  composers,  and  no  home 
need  be  without  a  complete  musical  library. 

It  is  always  a  pleasure  to  display  tlie 
iEOLIAN  to  tliose  wbo  favor  us  witb  a 
visit. 

THE  /COLIAN  CO. 

i8  West  23d  Street,  N.  Y.  City. 

BOSTON;  Mason  &  Hamlin,  155  TremontSt. 
CHICAGO:  Lyon  &  Healv,  State  and  Monroe  Sts. 
PHILADELPHIA:  C.  J.  Heppe  &  Son,  1117  Chestnut  St. 
SAN  FRANCISCO:  Kohler  &  Chase,  28  O'Farrell  St. 
PITTSBURGH:   Mellor  &  Horne,  77  Fifth  Ave. 
CINCINNATI:  Albert  Krell,  144  West  4th  St. 
TOLEDO,  O. :  The  Whitney  Sr  Currier  Co.,  219  Summit  St. 
MONTREAL:  L.  E.  N.  Pk.\tte,  1676  Notre  Dame  St. 
NEW  ORLEANS:  L.  Grunewald  Co.,  iS  Baronne  St. 
BALTIMORE:  Sanders  &  Stayman,  13  N.  Charles  St. 
DETROIT :  F.  J.  Schwankovsky,  238  Woodward  Ave. 


VOSE&  SONS' PIANOS. 


ESTABLISHED    IN   1851. 


CELEBRATED   FOR   THEIR 

Pure  Tone, 

Elegant  Designs, 

Superior  Workmanship, 

and  Great  Durability. 

Sold  oil  Easy  Terms. 

Old  instruments  taken  in  exchange.     Write  for  cata- 
logue and  full  information. 

VOSE  A  SONS  PIANO  CO. 

170  Tremont  Street,  Boston,  Mass. 


IDEAL  MUSICAL  BOX 

ISlakes    a.    deligrlitftol 

WEDDING, 

ANNIVERSARY,  AND 

HOLIDAY  PRESENT. 


The  IDEAL  are  the  most  complete,  durable,  and  perfect 
musical  boxes  made,  and  any  number  of  tunes  can  be  obtained 
for  them.  We  have  in  stock  21  different  styles  from  $70.00  up. 
These  iiistrninents  are  all  guaranteed.  Also  a  com- 
plete line  of  musical  boxes  of  all  styles  and  sizes,  from  40  cents 
to  $1500.00,  and  a  line  of  musical  novelties. 

Send  4-cent  stamp  for  65-page  illustrated  catalogue  with  list 
of  tunes. 

JACOT&SON/'^Hw^Y^'S.t'' 

Importers  and  Manufacturers. 


The  Marquette 

Quarter. saweJ  Sycamore   $8.u0 

The  Lakeside. 

Quarter-sawed  dak,  -    ■  $10.00 

The  Arlon. 


MANDOLINS 

The  Lakeside. 

Variegated  Uirds-KyeMaple?12 

The  Arlon. 

Maple  and  MahoRany,  -     -    $15 

The  Arlon. 


Solid  Mahogany, 


The  Conservatory. 


$12.00    Same  as  prccedinR,  inlaid,    $20 


The  Conservatory 


$20 


Solid  lloscwood,      •     •      $13.50  |  Solid  Kosewood, 

Fully  warranted  and  the  best  for  the  price  the  world  affords. 
We  manufacture  all  the  component  parts  and  are  the  largest 
makers  on  the  globe.  100,000  of  our  instruments  now  in  use. 
Sold  bj  all  leading  dealers.  Genuine  have  name  burned  on  the 
inside.  E^Takeno  other.  JEJ  Illustrated  pamphlet  mailed  free. 

LYON  &  HEALY,  I66I0  164  State  St.,  Chicago. 


PIANOS 


RENO^A^NED    FOR 

TONE  &  DURABILITY 

HAS?  TESUS.  Z^CCHAITQED. 

ENDORSED  BY  LEADING  ARTISTS. 

Catalogue  UaUed  on  Application. 

IIOFifth  Ave.,  cor.  16th  Street 

NEW  YORK  CITY". 


43 

YEAKS 

BEFOKE 

THE 
PUBLIC. 


SWEET 

TONED. 

SOLD 

ON 

MERIT. 


MQDERATEPRiCESJERMS  REASONABLE 

EVERY    INSTRUMENT    FULLY    WARRANTED. 
CATALOGUES    FREE. 

EMERSON  PIANO  CO., 


174  TREMONT   ST.. 
BOSTON.  MASS. 


92  FIFTH  AVE., 
NEW  YORK. 


factory.  "'^t^^w^k'  warehooms, 

New  Haven.  ,    1*^^^     New  York. 

Tested  by  Twenty-five  years'  use,  and  with  Twentv-Three 
Thousand  persons,  who,  each  owning  one,  testify  to  their  merits  by 
recommending  them  to  their  friends.  All  parts,  including  cases, 
ACTIONS,  IRON  plates,  SOUNDING  BOARDS,  etc. ,  are  made  by  us  in 
our  own  factory  under  our  own  patents.  Catalogue,  with  illustra- 
tions of  Eighteen  different  styles,  sent  free  on  application.  Special 
discount  at  retail  for  introduction  in  towns  not  occupied  by  our 
agents.  j;^j^  MATHUSHEK  PIANO  MEG.  CO. 
New  Haven,  Conn.  80  Filtli  Ave.,  New- York. 


How  Many  Years 

Will  my  Piano  last? 

If  it  be  this  make,  it  may  outlive  you. 
Interesting  catalogue. 

C.  C.  BRICCS  &  CO. 

5  &  7  Appleton  St.  Boston,  Mass. 


fXSJPT. 


FR£EJ 

STltAN(!lf,  BUT  TRIIKI  Send  your  address,  at  once,  on 
postal,  and  learn  how  I  GIVE  AWAY  a  ti.ooo  Piano,  a  $300  Organ 
and  three  $50  Scwinp;  Machines.  Tell  which  yon  nc»d. 
BKO.    P.  BKNT,   ••  Clerk     No.     5,"  Chicago,   III.,    MTr    of 

"CROWN"  PIANOS  and  ORGANS.  (Hstab.  1870.) 


GUITAR, 


BANJO,   MANDOLIN    Music. 

Send  for  catalog.    W.  L.  Hayden  Co. 
Boston,    Mass.,    P.    O.    Box   1736. 


II 


bo  NOT  STAMMER. 


M 


Prof.  H.  C.  Wood,  M.  D.,  LL.D.;  Prof  Harrison  Allen,  M.  D., 
University  of  Penna. ;  Geo.  W.  Childs,  proprietor  Phila.  Public 
Ledger,  and  Postmaster-General  John  Wanamaker  refer  stam- 
merers to  Phila.  Institute.     Send  for  S4-page  pamphlet  to 

EDWIN  S.  JOHNSTON,  Principal, 

No.   1033   Spring  Garden   Street,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 


Adamant  Wall  Plaster. 

The  introduction  of  Adamant  Wall  Plaster 

marked  an  era  in  the  building  business  of  the  coun- 
try. Its  fire-  and  water-resisting  qualities,  its  great 
strength,  hardness,  adhesiveness,  toughness,  and 
other  valuable  qualities,  render  it  so  far  superior  to 
old  style  mortar  that  comparison  is  almost  out  of 
the  question. 

It  is  unfortunate  for  the  public,  however,  that 
the  success  of  Adamant  has  brought  out  a  variety 
of  inferior  imitations,  which  have  none  of  the  per- 
manently valuable  qualities  of  ADAMANT,  and 
whose  only  recommendation  is  that  they  are  claimed 
to  be  "  cheaper."  If  cheapness  simply  means 
slightly  less  cost  at  the  outset,  then  some  of  them 
are  cheaper.  The  sensible  man,  however,  does  not 
expect  to  get  gold  dollars  for  fifty  cents.  ADAMANT 
has  made  its  reputation  on  quality.  Its  imitators 
talk  only  cheap7iess ;  but  poor,  worthless,  shoddy 
goods  are  not  cheap  at  any  price. 

Adamant  has  been  reduced  in  price  as  the 
increase  in  the  sale  and  improvements  in  facilities 
for  manufacture  have  warranted  such  reductions. 
It  is  now  sold  on  as  small  a  margin  as  is  consistent 
with  a  reasonable  profit  based  upon  a  very  large 
output.  It  would  be  easy  to  further  reduce  the 
price  by  reducing  the  quality,  but  this  the  Ada- 
mant companies  will  never  do.  They  will  sell  all 
the  good  goods  they  can,  and  let  others  have  that 
market  which  is  willing  to  be  deceived  by  the 
claims  of  the  party  who  says  he  can  sell  you  "some- 
thing just  as  good  and  a  little  cheaper."  Anyone 
ought  to  see  the  absurdity  of  this  claim.  If  the 
Lts'o°frL'feLtl''VL':^^^^^^^^  Adamant  companies   of  the   country,  with   their 

T.^^^;x^^^'iii:itt%l'^lit^^^l^il   enormous  trade,  cannot  sell  a  good  article  below  a 
X:^'l'^^i\Z:T^^:-rr^l^7^rjtl^.    certain  price,  how  can  imitators  with  a  very  little 

Adamant  was  used.  trade  do  SO  ? 

For  full  information  regarding  the  best  plastering  material  in  the  world,  address 
any  of  the  following : 


The  above  is  an  excellent  cut  of  the  tall  and  graceful 
tower  of  the  new  Madison  Square  Garden  Building, 
New-York  City — McKim,  Mead  &  White,  Architects. 
This  tower  is  341  feet  in  height,  and  it  will  be  a  sur- 


Adamant  Manufacturing  Co.  of  America,        -        Syracuse,  N.  Y. 

Bennett  Bldg.,  N.  Y.  City. 


Keystone  Plaster  Co.     -         -         -         - 

Michigan  Adamant  Plaster  Co.     - 

New  Jersey  Adamant  Manufacturing  Co. 

New  England  Adamant  Co. 

Conn.  Adamant  Plaster  Co.     -        -        - 

Sept.  »93. 


Minneapolis,  Minn 

West  Superior,  Wis. 

Milwaukee,  Wis. 

Toronto,  Can. 

Chester,  Pa. 

Pittsburgh,  Pa. 

Detroit,  Mich. 

-     Marquette,  Mich. 

-   Harrison,  N.  J. 

Boston,  Mass. 

-  New  Haven,  Conn. 

In  making  inquiries  kindly  mention  this  magazine. 


United  Adamant  Co. 
Chicago  Adamant  Plaster  Co. 
St.  Louis  Adamant  Plaster  Co. 
The  Ohio  Adamant  Co. 
Adamant  Wall  Plaster  Co. 
Adamant  Plaster  Manufacturing  Co. 
Southeastern  Plaster  Co.    - 
Tennessee  Adamant  Co. 
California  Adamant  Wall  Plaster  Co. 
The  Adamant  Co.,  Limited, 


Locust  Pt.,  Baltimore,  Md. 

Chicago,  111. 

St.  Louis,  Mo. 

Cleveland,   Ohio. 

Omaha,  Neb. 

Tacoma,  Wash. 

Savannah,  Ga. 

East  Nashville,  Tenn. 

San  Francisco,  Cal. 

Birmingham,  Eng. 


New  South  Wales  Adamant  Mfg.  Co.,  Limited,  Sydney,  Australia. 
Victorian  Adamant  Co.,  Limited,    -        -        Melbourne,  Australia. 


When  you  build  your  house,  Stain 
the  Shingles ;  don't  paint  them. 
You  would  not  paint  the  hard 
wood  standing  finish  of  the  interior, 
because  it  would  destroy  its  beauty. 
It  is  the  same  with  Shingles.  Paint 
them,  and  you  detract  from  their 
beauty ;  stain  them,  and  you  add 
to  it.  Cabot's  Creosote  Shingle 
Stains  are  as  durable  as  paint,  and 
cost  less.      

Send  6c.  in  stamps  for  Sheaf  of  Sketches  of  Creosoted  Houses, 
with  samples  on  Wood,  to 

SAMUEL   CABOT,   Sole    Mfr. 
70  Kilby  St.,  Boston,  Mass. 
Agents  at  all  central  points. 


Residence  Architecture, 


NewJJook.The 
Kevised  (1S92)  Edition  Superbly  IlliiBtratcil. 
T  his  book  is  S^xll  in. ;  180  pages,  and  contains  over 
200desit;ns    —       ,,      ,.         -^  ... 

-c^sunr'Artijtic  Dw^lhn^s 

from  ^503  to  515,000  With  reliable  estimates  of  cost. 

Hints  to  Home  Builders 

and  other  information  contained  in  this  work 
makes  House  building  truly  easy  and  relieves  ono 
of  many  knotty  problems.  Price  ?2.no  post  paid. 
Beautiful  Prospectus  and  Sample  Patjes  Free. 

GEO.  F.  BARBER  &C0.,  Architects, 

KNOXVILLE,   TENN. 


THE  complete  list  of  my  new  publications  is  as  follows.    In  addi- 
tion to  the  25  "classified"  designs,  each  book  (except  No.  32) 
contains  14  designs  of  various  costs,  making  39  designs  in  each  book. 
Book  No.  19  contains  25  Designs  of   $600  Cottages 
"        "     20  "        25  "  1,000  Cottages 

"     21  "        25  "  ],. 300  Cottages 

"       "     22         "        25  "  2,000  Cottages 

"        "     23  "        25  "  2,500  Houses 

"      24  "         25  "  3,000  Houses 

"25  "25  "  3,300  Houses 

"     26  "        25  "  3,500  Houses 

"         "      27  "         25  "  4,000  Houses 

"     28  "       25  "  4,.50O  Houses 

"       "     29         "        25  "  5,000  Houses 

"       "     30         "        25  "  0,000  Houses 

"      31  "         25  "  7,500  Houses 

Book  No.  32  contains  20  Designs  of  Double  Cottages 

and  20  Designs  of  Stables. 
Book  No.  33  contains  25  Designs  of  Ten  Thousand 
Dollar  Houses. 
Prices. —  One  book,  $1;  any  4  books,  $3;  any  7  books,  $5;  full 
set   (15   books),   $10.     Mailed,  all  postage  prepaid,  on  receipt  of 
price.     Address  R.  W.  SHOPPELIj,  Architect, 

Mention  this  magazine.  63  Broadway,  N.  Y. 


Mr<slkyiMSMS 


Correspondence  invited 
Catalooaes  of  our  various  depoHnienla 
to  responsible  parties-  ■ 


iiliiiaww^w^rjiaiil  i 


"'^  Offices^ 

Fulton  5t.  Con 

Villicim^ 


GREENHODSES,  PALM-HOUSES,  CONSERVATORIES  AND  SKYLIGHTS 

erected  anywhere,  in  any  part  of  the  U.  S.      Sole  agents  for  "  HelUwell"  Patent  Imperishable  Glazing. 

Bars  of  solid  steel,  zinc  or  copper.     No  putty.     No  broken 
glass.     No  frequent  painting.     No  decay.     No  drip. 

Greenhouses 
recently  erected  for 
WM.  H.  VANDERBILT. 
W.  K.  VANDERBILT, 

Newport,  R.  I. 
A.  J.   DREXEL, 

Philadelphia,   Pa. 
J.  H.  WADE,  Clev^and,  O. 

Correspondence  solicited. 

Built  for  C.  P.  Huntington,  Westchester,  N.  Y.     Illustrated  catalogue  free. 

THE  PLENTY  HORTICULTURAL  &  SKY-LIGHT  WORKS,  us  LIBERTY  ST.  N.  Y.  city. 

DOMESTIC  WATER  SUPPLY. 

The  Improved  Rider  Hot- Air  Pumping  Engine, 

"Witli    Reoeii.t    Impro'\'eiiaeiits. 

Specially  recommended  to  supply  water  in  Residences,  City  or  Suburban,  Flats, 
Schools,  Asylums,  Institutions,  and  all  places  where  it  is  desirable  to  avoid  the 
employment  of  skilled  labor.  Is  usually  run  by  gardener  or  domestics.  Abso- 
lutely safe.  Over  10,000  in  use  in  all  parts  of  the  world.  Use  Coal,  Wood,  Gas, 
or  Kerosene  for  fuel.  We  are  the  Original  Makers,  and  the  only  firm  building  the 
engines  in  their  own  works. 


Works  at  Waklen,  N.  Y. 


SITGIITS    CO. 

37  Dey  Street,  New- York. 


Illustrated  Catalogue  "R"  on  application.      Agencies  in  every  part  of  the  United 
States.    Improved  Ericsson  Engines  for  sale  after  May  ist.    Send  for  reduced  price-list. 

NORTH ROP'S  STAMPED  METAL  CEILING 

Decorative,  Durable. 

Made   in    large  variety   of  patterns,  for  all  classes  of 
buildings,  easily  put  up  by  your  decorator  or  carpenter. 

SEND    FOR    CATALOGUE. 

HENRY  5.  NORTHROP,  30  Rose  St.,  N.  Y.  "|| 


Agents  : 
HINMAN  &  CO.,  99  Washington  St.,  Chicago. 
S.  L.  GRAVES  &  CO..  174  Pearl  St.,  Buffalo. 
KIRKHAM   &   HAZEN,  Springfield,  Mass. 
C.  E.  RONNE,  Girard  Building,  Philadelphia. 
H.  L.  MURDOCK,  2306  Pa.  Ave.,  Washington,  D.  C. 
WM.  G.  BAXTER,  231  Asylum  St.,  Hartford,  Conn. 


DEXTER  BROTHERS'  ENGLISH  SHINGLE  STAINS. 


We  challenge  any  one  to  show  us  a  house  where  our  Stain  has  washed  off. 

A  shingled  house,  if  painted,  is  not  artistic.     A  moss-green  roof  cannot  be  obtained  by  the  use  of  paint, 
will  send  you  samples  of  any  color  of  Stain  if  you  will 
write  to  us.     We  study  the  harmony  of  colors,  and  can 
suggest  effects  you  have  not  thought  of  in  staining. 

Send  for  sample  boards  to 

DEXTER  BROTHERS,  55  Broad  Street,  Boston,  Mass. 

Tliefolloiumg  Jir7ns  acl  as  our  agenis  : 
H.  M.  Hooker  Co.,  Chicago,  III. 
Cleveland  Oil  and  Paint  Mfg.  Co..  Portland,  Ore. 
Smith  &  Yolng,  San  Francisco,  Cal. 
A.  Baldwin  &  Co.,  New  Orleans,  La. 

Campbell  &  Cutler  Paint  and  Glass  Co.,  Kansas  City,  Mo. 
Aqiila  Rich  Paint  and  Color  Co.,  New- York  City,  N.  Y. 
The  L.  J.  Mattison  Co.,  Cleveland,  Ohio. 
W.  W.  L.\WRENCE  &  Co.,  Pittsburgh,  Pa. 
B.\KER  &  Richards,  Seattle,  Wash. 


We 


BEFORE  BUILDING    ^^ 

SEND  FOR 

JOHNSTON'S 

Mooern  Homes 

Artistic  in  Design,  complete  in  all 
Modern  Improvements. 

40  designs  of  homes  costing  from  $8,000  to  $700,  with 
full  description,  estimates  and  floor  plans.  Book  g  x  12, 
bound  in  half  cloth,  PriCe$I.OO. 

Delivered  by  mail  to  any  address,  postage  prepaid. 

W.  K.  JOHNSTON,  architect, 

611    "The  Temple,"   Woman's  Temperance    Buildingi 
CHICAGO,  ILL. 


A  $3,800  Dwelling. 


If  You  are  About  to  Build 

Ton  cannot  invest  a  dollar  that  will  bring  you  better 
returns  than  to  purchase  a  copj"  of 

Artistic  Dwellings. 

You  can  obtain  more  and  better  ideas  as  to  arrange- 
ment, taste  and  economy  in  building  than  from 
anything  yet  published.  The  second  edition  is 
noTV  on  sale,  and  contains  56  designs  of  all  costs, 
from  $650.00  up.  Many  cheap  ones.  These  houses 
are  not  overloaded  with  cheap  decorations,  but 
rely  on  artistic  lines  for  beauty.  Sent,  post-paid, 
for  $1.00. 

FRANK   P.  ALLEN,  Architect, 

Grand  Rapids,   Mich. 


LDINC  A  HOUSE? 

you  want  convenience,  reasonable  economy,  and 
L  good-looking  structure.     Books   4  and   5, 
Houses  and  Cottages,  contain 

96  NEW  DESIGNS. 

No.  4,  from  $250  to  $1500;  No.  5,  from  $1800 

|f^  to  $10,000,  giving  plans,  size  of  rooms,  estimates, 

':^  and  full  descriptions  of  each.     Many  Southern 

or  Summer  Cottages  shown.     The  latest  styles, 

(  and  all  practical. 

Price,  $1.00  each,  or  the  two  $1.50, post-paid. 

:^  D.  S.  HOPKINS,  Architect,  Grand  Rapids,  Micli. 


W^M 


Artistic  Plai]tir]g 

Has  been  the  special  study  of 
E.  H.  BocHMAN,  Landscape 
Architect.  He  offers  his  assis- 
tance in  the  way  of  furnishing 
detailed  plans  and  specifications 
for  laying  out  public  or  private 
grounds,  residence-parks,  etc., 
with  or  without  superintendence. 
Correspondence  solicited. 

Office :    No.  41   Sixth  Ave.,  Pittsburgh,  Pa. 


► 


e  01     ^^^ 


Asbestos  is  one  of  the  chief  materials  in 
King's   Windsor  Asbestos  Cement,  which 
makes  it  especially  valuable  as  a  plas- 
tering material,  for  it  renders  the 
work  absolutely  fireproof.  The  ^^^      _^^ 
sale  of  about  one  million       _    ^^^  ufac- 

barrels  during  the  past         ^^L      ^  turers  (the 

three  years,  and       ^^    ^^^  oldest  house  in 

the  name  of  ^^^     ^^^^^     ''^'^  '^°^  °^  business 

the  man-  ^^^^    y^^      in  the  United  States),  are 

some  guarantee  of  the  quali- 
ty of  this  material.    Send  for  our 
descriptive  circular  and  testimonials. 
See  also  list  of  agents  in  July  Century. 
J.  B.  King  &  Co.,  21-24  State  St.,  New-York. 


~  -      °  c  = 

-    B    to  C    I.    o 

5  _  c  - 


c  o 


2      (/) 

^   UJ 


-    yi    ^ 

'   d.2 


The  National  Sliect  Metal  Roofing  Co.  '^ 


No.  9  CLIFF  ST.,  NEW-YORK. 


o 

z 

I 


"-2.SS 

n-?!-' j: 


A  beautiful  form  of  mantel,  frequently  seeti  in  Eng- 
land and  France,  with  a  hood  extending  to  the  ceil- 
ing. Our  handsome  sketch-book,  sent  for  ten  z-ccnt 
stamps,  is  valuable  as  071  art  souvenir  and  shozus 
many  other  charming  possibilities  in  moulded  brick. 

PHILADELPHIA    &    BOSTON     ?    4    Liberty    Square. 
FACE   BRICK   CO.  5        Boston,   Mass. 

Red  face  brick  work  necessary  for  above  mantel,  hearth, 
fire  back,  and  under  fire,  $42;    in   cream   bricks,   $63. 

PATENT    PANELED    METAL 

CEILINGS 

EMBOSSED  STEEL  MOLDED  PLATES. 

An  economical  substitute  for 
plaster  and  wood,  suitable  for 
all  classes  of  buildings,  both 
for   Ceiling    and    Walls 
Can  be  put  on  over 
old  plaster. 
If  interested 
in  building 
or      repair- 
ing,     send 
for 


illus 
trated    cat-' 
alogue  and 
estimates  to 

A.  NORTHROP  &  CO.  Pittsburg,  Pa. 

J.  HILLESGA8S  k  CO.  Agents  for  Washiagton,  D.  C.,721  fl  St.,  N.  E. 


The  MAGEE  BOSTON  HEATEK  for  heating  with  warm 
air  only,  or  in  combination  with  hot  water,  as  shown  in  the  above 
cut,  has  become  deservedly  popular. 

TVe  guarantee  it  to  give  perfect  satisfaction  in 
every  particular  if  properly  arranged  and  used. 

A  good  heating  apparatus  is  a  blessing,  but  a  poor  one  is  a  curse. 

May  we  send  you  a  descriptive  circular  with  references  —  letters 
from  users? 

MAGEE    FURNACE    CO. 

32  to  38  Union  Street,  Boston.         117  Beekman  Street,  New-York. 
86  Lake  Street,  Chicago.     27  New  Montgomery  St.,  San  Francisco. 


"Pure  Air  Ventilating  Grate." 


Pure  fresh  air  from  out  of  doors  positively 
heated.  It  will  warm  more  cubic  feet  than  any 
grate  ever  before  offered  to  the  public;  the  extra 
heat  from  hot-air  chamber  is  greater  than  that 
from  a  10  x  14  register  of  the  best  furnaces.  Fire 
maintained  without  trouble.  Largest  variety  of 
tiles  for  fire-places  and  floors  in  New  England. 
Manufacturers  of  brass  and  wroaght-iron  fenders, 
andirons,  etc.  Send  loc.  stamp  for  200-page 
catalogue,  or  stamp  for  circular  only. 

MUKDOCK  PARLOR  GRATE  CO. 

18  Beacon  St.  Boston,  Mass. 


fiVXYWg 


The  Best 
For  House  Warming 
E 


IKADIATORS 


(iurney  "  Double  Crown.' 


Gurney  loo  Series 


Gurney  300  Series. 


VAT^E  present  this  month  our  three  leaders.  They  embody 
every  improvement  and  valuable  feature  extant. 

We  believe  they  are  unequaled  in  capacity  and  service  by 
any  heaters  in  the  world. 

The  100  and  300  Series  are  designed  for  heating  dwellings 
and  buildings  of  ordinary  size,  and  the  "  Double  Crown  "  for 
larger  work. 

It  will  pay  any  one  to  send  for  "How  Best  to  Heat  Our 
Homes."  New  edition.  Just  out.  As  a  work  of  art  on 
House -Warming  it  is  unexcelled,  and  tells  about  the  best 
heating  system  in  the  world. 

Gurney  Hot  Water  Heater  *Co. 

Head  Offlce,  163  Franklin  St.  BOSTON,  MASS. 


Selling 
Agencies:  ^  pj^ 


(New  York  City  :    lohnson  &  Co.,  71  John  Street. 

\  Chicago  ;  Rice  &' Whitacre.  47  South  Canal  Street. 

"■  iladelphia:    I.  C.  V.  Trachsel,  246  Arch  Street. 


ECONOMY 

Combination  Heaters, 
Hot=Water  Heaters, 
Warm=Air   Furnaces. 

1 7  Patterns.    All  prices.     Suited  to  all 
conditions.      For  Catalogues  address 

J.  F.  PEASE  FURNACE  CO.  Syracuse,  N.  Y. 

205  Water  St.,  New- York;   75  Union  St.,  Boston;   113  Market  St.,  Harrisburg. 

Or,  GEO.   D.  HOFFMAN,  82  Lake  St.,  Chicago. 

PITTSBURG    HEATING    CO.,   100  Water  St.,  Pittsburg. 
FAITH,  BELSON   &  CO.,  207  Market  Street,  Philadelphia. 
CHAS.  A.  BALL,  Kellogg  Building,  Washington,  D.  C. 


Take 
Comfort 

Duringthe  winter  months. 

AUTOMATIC 
REGULATORS 

FOR 

Furnaces, 

Steam  or  Hot= 

Water  Heaters. 

Satisfaction  guaranteed. 

Write  for  catalogue. 

Agents  wanted. 


Electric 
Thermostat  Co. 

645  TEMPLE  COURT, 
Minneapolis,  Minn. 


Cory 's  ''  Excelsior  ' '  h  ea  fs 
pure  air  supplied  from  out  of 
doors.     Fresli  and  healthful. 

If  your  dealer  will  not  describe  it,  our  circular  will. 

Uzal  Cory  &  Co.''%-^t¥ol^c%:''- 


THE    CELEBRATED    DETROIT 


Bolton 


HOT 
WATER 

FOR   WAK3IING   ALL   CLASSES   OF   BUILDINGS 

THE   FAVORITE 

WITH    EVERYBODY    EVERYWHERE. 


Heater 


—  SOLE    ^MANUFACTURERS  — 


Detroit  Heating  &  Lighting  Co. 

3IO   WIGHT   ST.   DETROIT,    MICH. 


Combination  Gas  Machine. 


_  NEW'YORK,  126  Liberty  St.      CHICAGO,  88  Lake  St,  best  inmepenbent 

Send  for  Catalogue.      BOSTON,  42  Pearl  St.  ST.  LOUIS,  414  N.  Broadway.         LIGHTING    APPARATUS. 


H  OT  Water  Heatei^s 


.SeLF-FeEDlH<J  .£uRfACe-^UUHlH<4. 

4 Separate  CoNSTRUcnoris, 

An  A55URfiP  Success  HVERYVJHeRfi, 


mpuM^PiER(cl1r,G'.Co. 


i;»4ia..    NEV/    VORK  f 

4-2   DUANE   ST.  > 


£ii)ll  ihlolIoU.S.A. 

C.\-\  \  CAOO. 

96  LAKE  ST. 


Yolx  have  heard,  of  the 

POWERS   AUTOMATIC 

TEMPERATURE  REGULATOR, 

That  it  is  a 

Good  Thing ;  *curls  Uniform  Temperature 

in  the  house  without  any  attention  to  the  dampers;   that  it 

SAVES    FUEL! 

WHY  NOT    INVESTIGATE    IT  YOURSELF? 

It  has  brought 

Comfort  to  Many  Homes !  It  will  to  Yours ! 

USED   ON   ANY    HEATER. 

,  ,,  p , ,  THE  POWERS  DUPLEX  REGULATOR  CO. 

bend  lor  Catalogue.  .  . 

See  advt.  in  Aug.  Century.  90  Illinois  St.  Chicago,  111. 


THREE=FIFTHS 
OF  A  TON  OF  COAL 

Per  room  kept  the  25  rooms  of  this  house  at  70° 
all  last  winter. 

Fifteen  tons  of  coal  in  all,  and  every  room  at 
yo'^  all  the  time. 

It  was  done  with  a  Hub  Hot-Water  Heater  —  the 
most  powerful  apparatus  ever  made.  Send  for 
I  special  book,  entitled  Hot=Water  Heating. 
Mailed  free. 

Smith  &  Anthony  Stove  Co. 


Boston. 


New  =  York. 


Chicago. 


^^  Hot  Water   Circulation, 
National HoT^TER Heater  Co. 

Boston,  I  95  Fort  HHI  5q.    Cbica.s:o,  34  Dearborn  St. 
/"few  YorK,  94  Centre  5t.      52^n  Fra.ncJsco,40  5  A\arKet  St. 


S|5 

-iate1 

2j4 

«>Vt  1 

^> 

.:;;IMS  J 

^ 

'iiV  1 

SM:iil 


ifl^ 


THE  "SPENCE.' 


•^>»^N>4><>4^^><>^HN>4>4*^^<^^>^><>^^^^'<^^'^^^^*^^  ' 


HOME  WARMING 

We  have  published  a  book — named  "  Home  Warming  and  Ventila- 
tion"—  64  pages  of  healthful  information  by  world's  greatest  ex- 
perts— unbiased  writers  of  eminent  authority,  who  care  nothing  about 
our  Furman  Boiler  or  other  boiler — We  build  business  b}-  broadness 
— help  folks  to  select  what  they  ought  to  have.  Our  Furman  Boiler 
catalogue  is  another  comprehensive  book  on  steam  and  hot-water 
heating — 164  pages— all  about  the  Furman  Boiler  in  it — One  or  both 
, books  are  yours  for  postal  card.  Herendeen  Mfg.  Co.,  Geneva,  N.Y. 
^NH><><>j>»»<Ni>»jNHm»^»j»^ij>  ^»♦^>'^'»»»^^»»^^^»^^^♦  '^'^'^«^'^^N^MSh^■^^^*'^^*  *»»»♦ 


Our  business  is  the  manufacturing  of  heating  apparatus. 
Our  experience  of  nearly  fifty  years  is  at  your  service. 
If  interested,  and  you  will  indicate  method  of  heat- 
ing  desired,   we    will   send   you    illustrated    catalogue. 


We  manufacture 


Boynton 


Furnaces, 

Hot=Water    Heaters, 
Steam  Heaters, 
Ranges,  etc. 


For  sale  by  best  dealers  all  over  the  United  States. 

THE  BOYNTON  FURNACE  CO. 


195  and  197  Lake  St. 
Chicago. 


207,  209  and  211  Water  St 
New=York. 


Sept.  9;}. 


Don't  Coal=Qas 
Yourself  to  Death! 


"Banner" 
Oil 
Stove 

does  a  Coal- 
Stove's  work, 
without  any 

Ashes  or  Gas. 


Ask 
Vour 
Dealer; 
or  send  as 

$I2.00. 


Send  for  "Heat  Without  Dirt,"  our  free  booklet 
TheCLEVELAND  FOUNDRY  CO.,  Cleveland. Ohio. 


Warmth 

AND 

Ventilation 

BY 

Hot  Water 

The  Hopson  &  Chapin  Mfg.  Co. 


Main  Office, 


Manufacturers, 
Engineers. 


NEW  LONDON, 

CONN. 


STEAM  AND  HOT  WATER  HEATING  APPARATUS 


Public  Buildings, 

Residences,  etc. 

OUR  SPECIALTIES  : 
Mercers'  Patent  Sectional  Boiler, 
Gold's  Patent  Sectional   Boiler, 

Mill's  Patent  Safety  Boiler, 

The  Union  Hot  Water  Radiator, 

Reed's  Cast-iron    Radiators, 

Indirect  Pin  Radiators. 

The  H.  B.  SMITH  CO. 

137  Centre  St.  New-York. 

Foundry,  Westfield,  Mass. 
SEND  FOR  CIRCULARS. 


If  you  contemplate  heating  your 
House,  Office  or  Factory,  or  are  in- 
terested in  Steam,  send  for  "Reasons 
Why"  to 

JENKINS  BROTHERS, 

VlJohn  St.  New-York.       3J  &  S3  N.  Canal  St.  Chicago. 
2)  North  Fifth  St.  Phila.  10.5  Milk  St.  Boston. 


•ORGAN    BO  I LE 


AKRON.O.   AND  CHICAGO. 


The   DUNNING  Patent  Wrought-lron   BOILER 


WITH  SELF-FEEDING  COAL  MAGAZINE 


IS    THE    HEST    FOR 


Low  Pressure  Steam  or  Hot-Water  Heating, 

And  insures  a  warm  House  night  and  day.    Over  i6,ooo  in  use. 

Keeps  steam  up  constantly.     Also  Steam  Engines  and 

Boilers  of  all  kinds  and  Machinery  generally. 

MANUFACTURED  AT  THE 

NEW-YORK    CENTRAL    IRON    WORKS, 

■trade  mark,  ^f^  No.  67  Exchang'e  Street,  Geneva,  N.  Y. 

NE^A^-YORK    OFFICE,    36    PARK    PLACE 

Send  for  Illustrated  Catalogue  with  full  description. 


PECK   &   SNYDER'S   LAWN  TENNIS   RACKETS 


Are  Endorsed  and  Used  by  all  the  best  Tennis  Players. 

Hobart  "All  Comers,"  each !S7.00 

lieeckmaii  "  Special,"      "      7.00 

"  "  Toui'iiament,"  each 6.00 

"  "Expert,"  " 5.00 

"Club,"  "     4.0O 


ORDERS. 
Send  postal  card  for 


CLUB 
Complete  Tennis  Rules  and  Spring  Catalogue  Free. 

PECK  &  SNYDER, 

Xos.  126  to  ISO  Xassati  St.,  .\ 


I^. 


SEND  FOR  FBICE  LIS1. 

SWEET,  WALUCH  &  CO.  21 5  Wabash  Ave.,  Chicago. 

.   L.   DOWD'S   HEALTH    EXERCISER, 

For  Brain-Workers  and  Sedentary  People  i 

Gentlemen,  Ladies  and  Youths;  the  Athlete 
or  Invalid.  A  complete  gymnasium.  Takes 
up  but  6  inches  square  floor-room;  something 
new,  scientific,  durable,  comprehensive,  cheap. 
Indorsed  by  20,000  physicians,  lawyers,  clergy- 
men, editors  and  others  now  using  it.  Send  for 
illustrated  circular,  forty  engravings,  no  charge. 
Prof.  D.  I..  DOWD, 
Scientific  Physical  and  Vocal  Culture,       9  E.  14th  St.,  New-York. 

The  Little  Finger  Does  It." 

AUTOMATIC 
REEL. 


It  will  wind  up  the  line  a  hun- 

[  dred  times  as  fast  as  any  other 

Ireel  in  the  world.      It  will  wind 

up  the  line  slowly.     No  fish  can 

ever  get  slack   line  with   it.     It 

will   save    more   fish    than  any   other 

reel.     Send  for  Cat.alcgue. 

Manipulated  entirely  by  the  hand  that  holds  the  rod. 
YAWMAN    &    ERBE.      ROCHESTER,    N.    Y. 


Keeping  well  is  easier  than  getting  well. 


THIS  15  THE  FAM0U5 

Boston  Chest  Weight 

The  BEST  thing  of 
the  kind  for  the 
HOME  or 
GYMNASIUM, 

the  child,  or  athlete. 

Noiseless, 
Adjustable, 
Simple, 
Handsome. 

A  PERFECT  and 
Durable  mechani- 
cal device,  which 
costs  no  more  than 
the  wonderful  con- 
trivances of  string 
and  iron,  which  rat- 
tle and  squeak,  and 
weary. 

We  are  the  largest  manufacturers  of  Gymnastic  Apparatus  in  the 

country.    Come  right  to  headquarters.    It  will  pay  you. 

Catalogue  free. 

Consumers  now  get  the  Agent's  Discount  of  25  per  cent 

The  Schumacher  Gymnasium  Co., 

Oym^nastic  Apparatus.  AKRON,    OHIO. 


\^clor 


Fulton  built  the  "original" 
American  steamboat,  but  the 
Hudson  river  floating  palaces  of 
to-day  are  immeasurably  su- 
perior. 

Being  first  in  a  field  may 
make  a  reputation  for  a  day — 
perhaps  a  year — but  of  value  no  longer  than  true  merit  survives.  Ivcader- 
ship  means  superiority. 

Victors  are  not  the  "oldest"  or  "original"  American  bicycles — they  are 
simply  the  best 
bicycles. 
Why? 

Because  no 
others  are  made  so 
well ;  because  no 
others    are     equal 

in  tires,  spring  forks,  and  general  ^^^  improvements ;  because  Victors 
make  the  pace  in  advanced  construction  and  have  more  valuable  points 
than  all  other  bicycles  combined.      Shall  we  send  you  a  catalog? 


OVERMAN    WHEEL  CO., 

BOSTON,      WASHINGTON,      DENVER, 
SAN    FRANCISCO. 


A.  G.  SPALDING   &    BROS., 

SPECIAL  AGENTS, 
CHICAGO,    NEW  YORK,    PHILADELPHIA 


$5.00 


Hand  Camera. 


$5-00 


Frank  McLaughlin's 

New  England 

Rattler. 

This  is  the  best  hand 
Camera    for    the    price 
ever  produced. 

Sent  c.o.D.     Satisfaction  guar- 
anteed or  money  refunded. 
Address 

SOLE  AGENTS 

Scovill  &  Adams  Co. 

423  Broome  St.,  N.  Y. 


*^  THE    a^ 

PREMIER 

CAMERA 


=11=- 


IS  THE  BEST  IN  MARKET 

Simple  of  /Aanipulation 

Plates  or  Hlms  are  used 

The  Shutter  is  always  set 

Covered  with  Leather 

PRICE  $18.00 

Send  for  Catalogue  and  copy  of  Modem  Photography 

ROCHESTER  OPTICAL  COMPANY 
9  S.  Water  St.  ROCHESTER  N.Y, 


spend  Vacation 
I  Luxuriously. 

■S  Going  away  ?  Why  not  Bicycle  ?  'T  will 
M  add  to  your  pleasure  and  improve  your 
M  health.  Riding  any  bicycle  is  exercise  — 
Rambler  Bicycle  riding  is  "  luxurious 
exercise."  Exercise  means  health.  You 
ride  a  lumber  wagon  or  flat  car  when 
you  can't  help  it,  but  for  comfort  choose 
a  spring  carriage  or  many-springed 
Pullman  car.  Springs  afford  comfort. 
Lumber  wagon  —  carriage;  flat  car  — 
Pullman ;  rigid  frame  bicycle  —  spring 
frame  Rambler.  See  ?  Ramblers  are 
fully  guaranteed —  always  have  been. 
Send  for  description.   Mention  Century. 

GORMULLY  &  JEFFERY  M'F'G  CO. 
Chicago.    Boston.    Washington.    New -York. 


^ 


I 


FOOTBALLS 


For  1892. 

riFTH  Avenue  Hotel. 

lUOi^ON  S^UAftt  HEW  YORK 


Official  Foot-ball  Rules,  revised  by  Walter  Camp,  io  cents 
Catalog  Free  on  application. 

A.  C.  SPALDING   &   BROS. 

Chicagro,  New- York,  Philadelphia. 


Bicycled  Fact 

Columbias  can't  help  leading— built 
to  lead— All  good  things  said  about  all 
bicycles  are  in  Columbias— Columbias 
are  guaranteed  all  over— There's  no 
experiment  in  Columbia  buying  — 
Columbias  are  as  handsome,  as  light, 
as  strong,  as  easy  running  as  can  be  — 
more  so  than  all  other  bicycles. 

Book  about  Columbias  free  at  Columbia  agencies,  by  mail  for  two  two-cent  stamps. 
Little  book  about  Columbias  free  for  a  postal  card.  Pope  Mfg.  Co.,  221  Columbus  Ave., 
Boston;   12  Warren  St.,  New  York;  291  Wabash  Ave.,  Chicago. 


WHY 


shall  I   Buy  a 


KODAK  ? 


Because  it  is  the  Best  hand  camera  made.  It  has  the  best 
lenses,  best  finish,  is  the  most  compact,  and  is  always  sold 
loaded,  ready  for  use.  The  *'  Daylight"  can  be  loaded 
anywhere  at  any  time. 


WHEN 


shall  I   Buy  a 


KODAK  ? 


Buy  now,  and  use  it  this  fall,  the  most  delightful  season  of  the 
year  for  amateur  photography. 


WHERE 


shall  I   Buy  a 


KODAK  ? 


Of  any  photo  stock  dealer  or  of 

Eastman   Kodak  Co. 


Prices :  $6.00  to  $65.00. 

Send  for  Catalog:ue. 


ROCHESTER,    N.    Y. 


BLAIR'S  FILM   .    . 
.    .    WON'T  FRILL 


NEW  STYLES    .    . 

.      .    AND  SIZES    . 

.      .     .       FOR  1892 

The  New  Folding  Hawk=Eye.   size,  5x7. 

The  Petite  Kamarette.    For  Ladies. 

These  cameras  use  regular  dry  plates,  or  JiLAIli'.S  NEW  FILM,  for  25  to  100  pictures  without  loading. 

The  HAWK-EYE  has  had  the  largest  sale  of  any  combined  plate  and  film  camera  ever  made. 
The  KAMARET  is  unequaled  for  tourists'  use,  being  nearly  one-third  smaller  than  any 
similar  camera  of  equal  capacity. 

Anyone  who  will  glance  over  the  HAWK-EYE  and  KAMARET  booklets,  which  are  sent  free,  will  understand  why  his  choice 
should  l)e  one  of  these,  rather  than  any  of  the  numerous  other  cameras  which  are  advertised.  « 

THK  PRICES  RANGE  FROM  »15.00  TO  «55.00. 
We  develop  and  finish  the  pictures,  or  supply  outfits  for  such  purposes,  as  preferred. 

THE  RLAIR  CAMERA  C03IFANY,  Manulactiirers. 
Salesrooms,  Wholesale  and  Retail:  No.  471  Tremont  St.,  Boston  ;  Nos.  451-453  Jiroatlway,  New- York  ;  No.  918  Arch 
St.,  Pliilailelphia ;  Nos.  345-847  State  St.,  Chicago,      j;^  ^  h,  T.  ANTHONY  &  CO.,  New- York,  Trade  Agents. 


is  one  of  the  admirable  features  in  the  "  Whitman 
cooler  than  the  padded 
saddle,  and,  being  of 
wood,?nust  retain  its 
shape ;  utilike  the 
padded  saddle  it  holds 
no  dirt  or  perspira- 
tion, and  produces  no 
frictio7i  or  sores  upon 


It  is 
the   horse's 
back.   As  a 
matter    of 
economy  it  insu7-es  free- 
dom from  frequent  i-e- 
pairs  made  necessary  in 
the  padded  saddle  by 
the  ravages  of  moths. 


No  saddle  genuine  without  this  Company's 

name-plate,  bearing    the  word  "Whitman." 

Illustrated  catalogue  free.     A  novel  little  device  for  holding 

the  trousers  down  when  riding,  50  cents  per  pair,   post-paid. 

WHITMAN  SADDLE  CO.  'i!.''^l^r^ll'S^:^,T<S''- 


CARRIAGKS 


And  Fancy  Traps.    Many  new  designs. 


Send  for  new  Catalogue. 


H.   H.   BABCOCK  COMPANY, 

Watertown,  N.  Y. 
Also  NewYork  City,  406-412  Broome  Street. 


"SHADELAND", 


THE  MOST 
EXTENSIVE 

Pure  Bred  Live  Stock 

ESTABLISHMKNT 

in    the    WORLD. 
NEW  IMPORTATIONS 

arriving  from  time  to  time.     Rare 

individual  excellence  and 

choicest  breeding. 

Breeders  and  Importers  of 

Starnrlard  Brecl  Trotters, 
Carriage  Horses, 
Saddle  Horses, 
Wel«h   Ponies, 
IcelaiKl  Ponies, 
Slietlaiid  Ponies, 
Holstein— Friesian 
Cattle, 
T^evon.  Cattle. 


TTrench  Coaclier.s, 
Cleveland  Ba.vs, 
Haclrn  ey  s, 
Clydesdales, 
Perclieron-s, 
Ifreneli  Drai'ts, 
Enp;lish  Shires, 
Belgian  IDrafts, 
SuSbllr  Horses, 
-AJLso,  Dealers  in  Iteal  Estate. 
Our  customers  have  the  advantage  of  oiir  many  years'  ex- 
perience in   breeding  and  importing;     superior    qualitj'; 
large    variety   and    ituntense    collections ;    opportunity 
of  comparing:  different  breeds ;  and  low  prices,  because 
of  our  uiiequaled  facilities,  extent  of  business  and  low 
rates  of  transportation. 

No  other  ESTABLISHMENT  in  the  WORLD  offers 
such  advantages  to  the  PITRCHASER. 

PKICES  LOW !   TERMS  EASY  !  Visitors  welcome. 
Coixespondence  solicited.    Circulars  free. 

POWELL   BROS. 
Sliadeland,  Cra^Arford  Co.  Pa. 

When  you  write,  mention  The  Centi'ry. 


Want  a  Pony  ? 

I  wish  every  boy  and  girl  in  the  world 
could  see  the  herds  of  Shetland,  Welsh 
and  Iceland  ponies  on  my  "  Riverside  " 
farm,  and  my  stock  of  saddles,  bridles, 
blankets,  harnesses,  carts  and  cutters — in 
short,  everything  for  the  pony. 

Write  for  what  you  want,  inclosing  stamp  for  Price-List. 


J.  MURRAY   HO  AG, 
Importer  and  Breeder, 


Maquoketa, 
Iowa. 


Racing  at  "Riverside." 


preferred      I  he 
;  ome  illustrated 


STUDEBAKER   PHAETONS. 

-,  repositories: 

<:HI(;A(iO,  ILL.,  203-206  Michigan  Ave. 
NKW-YOUK,  N.  Y.,  265-267  Canal  St. 
KANSAS    CITY,  MO.,  1104-1 106  Walnut  St. 
i  ST.  JOSEPH,  MO. 

SAN   FRANCISCO.  CAL.,  201-203  Market  St. 
SALT   LAKE   CITY,  UTAH. 
"  -^  PORTLAND,  OREOON,  E.  First  and  E.  Morrison  Sts. 

p  No.  521.     SPECIAL  PHAETON.— The  sketch  illustrates  our 

I'wo-Spring  Special  Phaeton,  with  fine  hand-buffed  leather  top 
and  leather  side  curtains.  We  offer  it  as  the  best-constructed 
vehicle  in  all  respects  that  can  be  produced  for  the  price.  It 
combines  in  an  eminent  degree  room  and  comfort  with  lightness 
Tnd  beauty  of  design.  Wheels  are  A-grade;  axles,  double- 
-  collar,  steel ;  and  springs,  long  and  easy,  of  best  steel,  oil-tem- 

^    ^  _      pered  and  graded.     It  has  a  large  wing  dash  and  silver  line- 
~*  "  ~"  "''^^  nil,  leather  covered.    Trimmings,  English  cloth  or  morocco,  as 

cushion  and  sprmq  back  ^re  stuffed  with    urled  h-iir     We  build  a  full  line  of  SCROLL-LOOP  PHAETONS,  etc.    Hand- 
cinlogue  on  appliciticn     Nnme  this  mif,izine     Address  STUDEBAKER   BROS.  MFQ.  CO.,  South  Bend,  Ind. 


Extension  Top 

Phaetons 

We  are  making  a  specialty  of 
fine  four  passenger  Phaetons 
and  Surreys.    Our  styles  are 
the  latest,  workmanship  the 
best,  and  prices  correct. 


©Ur  IDCbiCleS  include  a  large  line  of 
one  and  two  seat  Carriages,  Two  Wheel-     -J^l<^ 
ers  and  Carts,  both  painted  and  natural     T^/lsiT 
wood  finish.      Catalogue  and  complete       ■v| V 
price  list  mailed   free  to  any   address. 

SYRACUSE,    N.  Y. 

Warren  St.,  New  York. 
iflSSudbnry  St..  Boston. 


RRADLEY&CO.hI! 

JLI 96&5 


The  WATERLOO  BONNER. 

The  Prince  of  Easy  Riding  Buggies. 

New-York  Extension  Top  Park  Phaetons, 

For  Four  Passengers. 
Surreys,  Biickboarcis, 

Elegant  Buckboards, 

For  Summer  use  at  Home  or  at  Pleasure  Resorts. 

Fine   Buggies  on  Brewster,  Timken  or  Elliptic  Springs. 

Write  for  Catalogue.     Prices  Low.      Mention  this  ad. 

"Waterloo  Wagon  Co.,  L't'd,  Waterloo,  NeAv-York. 


GERMANIA 


A  magazine  for  the  study  of 
the  German  Language  and 
Literature,  is  highly  recom- 
mended by  college  professors 
and  the  press  as  "the  best 
effort  yet  made  to  assist  the  student  of  German,  and  to  interest  him 
in  his  pursuit."  Its  Beginners'  Corner  furnishes  every  year  a 
complete  and  interesting  course  in  German  Grammar.  $2  a  year. 
Sample  copies  free. 

P.  O.  Box   151,  Manchester,  N.  H. 

LAWN    i^WEEPERS. 

f  Lawns  after  mowing, 
Atherlog  Lrares,  Sticks, 
8  and  litter.  Used  in 
Parks,  Cemeteries, 
Tennis  Courts  and  all 
L  public  and  private 
Pgrouuds.    Two  sizes. 

Plawn    kollers. 

For  keeping  lawns  and 

terraces     smooth    and 

compact.    Used  when  frost  is  leaving  ground  and  after  rain 

for  re-sodding  and  laying  out  yards  and  flower  gardens.    Write 

for  full  description  and  prices.     THO.nPSON  M'F'G  CO. 

D.  ^.  >VKAVKK,  8ecV-  ELKHART,  IMHANA. 


CARTS 

For  Pleasure  or  Business  Driving. 

When  correctly  constructed  they  are  styHsh, 
safe,  comfortable  and  convenient. 

Send  for  our  Illustrated  Catalogue,  showing 
many  striking  designs,  all  furnished  with  our 
famous  device  for  preventing  the  body  of  the 
vehicle  keeping  time  to  the  step  of  the  horse. 

W.  S.  FRAZIER  &  COMPANY,  Aurora,  111.  aiso  373  &  375  wabash  Ave.. 


The  QUEEN 

Binocular 
Telescope 


as  here  shown,  has  four  (4)  times  the  power  of 
the  regular  field-glass.  When  in  its  case  its  bulk 
is  6/4;   inches  long  by   i>^  inches  thick.     The 

"QUEEN  Binocular  Telescope"  is  pecu- 
liarly well  adapted  for  Farmers,  Ranchmen, 
Stockmen,  Army  and  Navy  Officers,  and,  in 
fact,  for  any  one  who  requires  a  binocular  having 
greater  power,  but  less  bulk  and  weight  than  an 
ordinary  field  glass.  It  mav  be  carried  with 
safety  and  comfort  in  a  hip  or  side  coat-pocket.   PRICE  COilPLETE,  $35.00. 

QUEEN  &  CO.,  loio  Chestnut  St.,  Philadelphia. 

Our  43-page  Catalogue,  Part  F,  of  Opera,  Field,  Marine  Glasses  and 
Binocular  Telescopes;  and  our  64-page  Catalogue,  Part  G,  of  Spy-Glasses, 
Telescopes,  etc.,  will  be  mailed  FREE  to  any  address. 


George  Eliot's  Works. 

IVew  Limited  Edition  of  1000  Copies. 

George  Eliot's  Complete  Works,  including  the  Essays 
and  Poems,  together  with  a  life  of  the  author,  issued  in 
this  attractive  library  style,  uniform  with  our  remark- 
ably successful  editions  de  luxe  of  Dickens,  Thackeray 
and  Bulwer,  will  meet  the  demands  of  the  literary  pub- 
lic more  fully  than  any  previous  edition  issued  in  this 
or  any  other  country.  The  work  will  contain  over  one 
hundred  and  twenty-five  original  etchings  and  photo- 
gravures. The  photogravures  are  reproduced  from 
drawings  by  the  most  prominent  American  and  English 
artists,  among  whom  are  Dielman,  Harper,  Sandham, 
Taylor,  Garrett,  Merrill  and  Champney.  These  are 
supplemented  with  photogravures  from  actual  photo- 
graphs of  the  localities  described  in  the  historical  ro- 
mances. All  of  the  illustrations  will  be  proof  impressions 
on  Imperial  Japanese  paper.  This  edition  is  printed 
from  entirely  new  plates,  set  from  new,  large  type,  in  a 
small  page,  uniform  with  the  edition  de  luxe  of  Dickens, 
and  will  be  complete  in  twenty-four  octavo  volumes, 
bound  in  English  vellum  cloth,  paper  titles,  gilt  top.  It 
will  be  issued  by  subscription  only,  at  the  rate  of  two 
volumes  per  month,  at  $2.50  per  volume. 

Prospectus  atid  specimen  pages,  showing  type, page  and 
paper,  with  sample  illustration,  sent  on  application. 

ESTES  &  LADRIAT,  PUBLISHERS,  BOSTON. 

Local  Representatives  and  Salesmen  Wanted. 


Dr.  SCOTT'S  ELECTRIC." 
SAFETY  RAZOR. 


PRICE, 

Every  one 
millions  of 
own  one  of 
shaving  de- 
plicity,  beauty, 
every  attribute 


-    -    -    I2.00 

of  America's 
kings  should 
these  peerless 
vices.  Insim- 
safety — in 
necessary  for 


the  rounding  out  of  the  perfect  razor, 
Dr.  Scott's  Safety  has  no  competitor. 
Every  Blade  Guaranteed. 

Address  GEO.  A.  SCOTT, 

842     BROADWAY,    NEW    YORK    CITY. 

AGENTS    WANTED. 


NOW  READY— THE  SEPTEMBER  PART  OF  THE 

Young  Ladies'  Journal, 

The  best  Journal  for  Ladies  and  Families,  containing  the  latest  and  best  fashions;  profusely 
illustrated;    a  mammoth  colored  supplement  of  fashions;   numerous  complete  stories  of  absorb- 
ing interest,  and  the  opening  chapters  of  a  new  and  original  serial  story,  entitled 

Besides  New  Music,  Embroidery  Designs,  etc.      The  most  complete  magazine  for  ladies  publislied. 
Price,  30  Cents.     Yearly,  $4.00,  including  the  Christmas  number.     All  newsdealers  and 

THE  INTERNATIONAL  NEWS  COMPANY,  NEW-YORK. 

FOR 

IS  Ooiits. 

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/\B50LUTELY1TRE  fRpoF. 

A  PERFECT  HOTEL 

FOR  TRANSIENT  OR  PERMANENT  GUESTS. 

fhe  0pen  (]|ourts  f^aoinjg  goutb  Jnsurc 
gunligbt  and  Perfect  "i^entilation. 

CONDUCTED  ON  THE  AMERICAN  PLAN. 

BOOK  OF  PHOTOGRAPHIC  INTERIOR  VIEWS,  AND 
RATES  MAILED  ON  APPLICATION. 

■^  BHl    M     HHNESS    AND   HEAD    NOISES 

I  1  b  M\  ■■  OVERCOME  by  Peck-s  Pat.  INVIS- 
■^r    h^  #"%   I  IBLE  Tubular  EarCushionsin  all  cases  where 

the  auditory  nerves  are  not  paralyzed.  Successful  in  many  cases  pro- 
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m  M    buy  a  Fairy 
^^    Tricycl 


Ijadies  and  girls 
if  you  want  air 
or  eierciBe, 

FOK 

ALL. 

Ohio.     ' 


CADrFlVIT'C5  Commodes, 

3AnUllil  1    O  J  Earth  Closets 

^^    For  full  information,  with  illustrated 
iJ'*^  catalogue,  send  to 

SARGENT  MFC.  CO. 

814  Broadway,  New- York; 
or  Muskegon,  Mich. 
Quote  CENTURY. 


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BULBS 


FALL         ROSES 
PLANTiNQ.    P/EONIES 
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30 


[ril...nn^nn    X,     Dn>.nit      Mt.  Hope  Nurgeries 

Lllwanger  &  Barry,  Rochester,  a.  y 


AUTOGRAPH  LETTERS. 

Catalogues  issued  continually. 
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days  on  trial,  Kood's  Magic  Scale,  the  popu 
lar  Ladies'  Tailoring  System.  Illustrated  cir- 
cular free.  Kood  Magic  Scale  Co.,  Chicago,  111. 


PERNIN 
SHORTHAND 

LEADS  ALL. 


8  to  12  weeks'  study.  No  shading,  no  po- 
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Write  Pernin  Institute,  Detroit,  Mich. 


s 


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be  both  sharp  and  smooth,  ^^^  fjuaranty- 
ing  ease  of  insertion  and  firm  ness  of  hold,  be 
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deservedly  won  and  easily  maintains  the  reputa- 
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either  of  home  or  foreign  production.  The  slight 
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sequence whatever,  when  its  siipcriorqualities  and 
greater  duration  are  considered. 

AX^p^tfi-  Din  is  about  the  most  use- 
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found,  but  with  the  hard  material  and  the  special 
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a  text  is  what  we  desire,  and  we  will  send  sample 
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American  Pin  Company, 

=  Waterhury,  Conn. 


SUQUy.liy^llQSend   for  Catalog 
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Fine  Pictures  at  Moderate  Prices. 

High-Class  Etchings,  Engravings  and  Water  Colors, 
Specially  suitable  for  framing,  and  many  of  them  rare  and 
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Descriptive  Catalogue  A'o.  g  (of  Modem  Etchings),  -with 
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FREDERICK  KEPPEL  &-  CO. 

Paris,  and  20  East  l6th  St. ,  between  Union  Square  and 

^th  Ave.,  New-York. 


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BANG, 
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All  long  convent  Hair,   So.OO  up.     COCOAXTTT 

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and  Boft  as  a  child's.  Sl.OO  per  box.  AU  MONTE 
CKISTO  beautifying  preparations  and  hair  dyes  (all 
Ehades),  also  the  celebrated  Oculine  Eye  beautifler  and 
Etrengthener.  Pamphlet,  "How  to  be  beautiful,"  sent  free. 
1„  SHAW,  54  "W.  14th  ST.,  NEW  TTORK.. 

Ma  1^  CLOTHES  We  clean  or  dye  the  most  deli- 
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PATENTS 


THOMAS  P.  SIMPSON,  Washington,  D.  C. 

No  pay  asked  for  patent  until  obtained. 
Write  for  Inventor's  Guide. 

*0«)  FIRST  CLASS  CURTAIN  DESK 
4>ZZi  Four  and  a  Half  feet  long.  Un- 
limited variety  in  stock  and  to  order. 

American  Desk  &  Seating  Co. 

270-272  Wabash  Av.,     CHICAGO,  U.S.A. 


ARTISTIC  HOMES 

lAQI       In  City  and  Country, 

**  *^  *  '  with  other  examples  of  Domestic  Archi- 
tecture, by  FULLER  &  WHEELER,  Architects  70  plates, 
eleven  by  fourteen  inches.     Cloth  bound.     Price  $6.00.     Address 

J.  L,.  I.OCHNER,  Jr.,  86  State  St.,  Albany,  N.  Y. 

Save  Half  glQYQLES 


On    New 


A  ^25  cycle  for  *18;  others  as  low. 
Largest  and  oldest  dealers  in  the 
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NCW  READY— THE   SEPTEMBER 

FAMILY  HERALD! 

Containmg  Four  New  and  Complete  Stories,  and  the  be- 
ginning of  a  new  and  original  serial  story,  entitled 

<*THE  ONE  MAID  FOR  ME"; 

together  with  much  useful  and  entertaining  miscellaneous  matter  of 
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ABOUT    GLOVES. 


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not  necessary. 
Gloves  do  not 
the  best  made, 
does  not  have 
stamp  to  the 
er  for  the  book 
terest  you. 


'  About   Gloves. ' 


Hutchinson's 
rip,  and  are 
If  your  dealer 
them,  send 
manufactur- 
It  Tvlll  in- 


Estaflished  1862. 
JOHN  C.  HUTCHINSON,  Jofinstown,  N.  Y. 

SEND  FOR  CATALOGUE. 

LAWN  TENNIS,  BAS^  BALL, 

GrTuas 

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BOTS'  .nd  niRLS'22  In.  Safety,  Brake,  Had  Guards,  $|3.00 
SO  In.  DCNLOP  PNEUMATIC  Safety;  List  $160..  .Net  96. OO 
L.  C.  Smith  Hammer  Gnn,  12fla.  8^  lbs.;  List  $aS;  Net  33,00 

Fiobert  (al  Ride,  nslng  22  Calibre  B.  B.  Caps 1.75 

Automatic  I).  A.  ReTolver,  using  38  S.  &  W.  Cartridge.     3, SO 

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ACK  NUMBERS  AND  SETS  OF  ALL  MAGAZINES.     For  price, 
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Dv.  W.  E.  BROWN  &  SON,  North  Adams,  Mass. 

n  NORTH  AN  D-T'-oscooDBY 

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by  mail  only.  Terms  $10.00,  including  necessary  books.  In- 
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A    GENTLEMAN'S    LAUNCH. 


B 


YOUR  OWN   ENGINEER. 

Launches  19  to  60  feet  in  length,  with  automatic  machinery. 
Also  manufacturers  of  Racine  Automatic  Marine  Engines,  inter- 
changeable for  oil,  wood  or  coal. 

PADDLE   YOUR  OWN  CANOE. 

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Vol.  Ill  —  between  $3000  and  $9000 i .  00 

Sensible  Low-Cost  Barns  and  Stables 50 

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3per   sash. 

GLASS 


WEBSTER'S  CELEBRATED 
ENGLISH    GRAIN    CREEDMOOR. 

Double  sole  nnd  tap,  hand  nailed,  best 
English  grain  stock,  bellows  tongue; 
guaranteed  water-proof  Very  easy 
and  durable.  Seventh  year  advertised. 
Price,  $5.00.  Hand-sewed,  calf-lined, 
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express,  50c.  extra.  Send  for  circular. 
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Boston,  Mass. 


Patent  Foot-Power  Machinery 

COMPLETE    OUTFITS. 

Wood  or  metal  workers  without  steam  power 
can  successfully  compete  with  the  large  shops 
by  using  our  New  LABOK-SAVING 
Machinery,  latest  and  most  improved  for  prac- 
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Training,  etc.     Catalogue  Free. 

Seneca  Falls  Mfg.  Co. 

674  Water  St.  Seneca  Falls,  N.Y. 

Building  Plans  from  designs  of  noted  architects  in  each  numberl^B 
of  The  Architectural  Kra,  the  best  journal  on  archi-H^ 
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Typogravure  sup-  [J  I  I  I  I  ^^  I  IVI  ^^  plement;  views  of 
buildings,  ^J  ^J  I  ^  ^J  I  tm  \-A  and    numerous 


signs  of  artistic  archi- 


large 

new  and  beautiful  de-  ^J  I       A   1^1  ^J 

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stamps  for  sample  copy,  or  50  cents  for  next  six  numbers  as  trial  sub 

seription.     Portfolio  of  25  designs  and  plans  of  houses,  and  next  six 

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NEW  CATALOGUE  OF 

Foreign    Photographs 

Mailed  for  lo  Cents. 

This  selection  of  over  10,000  subjects  comprises  the 
most  important  views,  paintings,  and  sculptures  of 
Europe,  Imported  Direct  and  for  sale,  mounted  and 
unmounted.  Braun's  Carbon  Photographs  in  a  large 
and  varied  assortment.  Albums,  Portfolios,  Mounting 
and  Framing. 

C.  H.  DUNTON  &  CO.,  136  Boylston  St.,  Boston. 


PORTABLE    HOUSES 


OF  ALL  KINDS, 

For  Summer  Outings,    Art   Studios, 
Hunting    and    Fishing    Cabins,    Chil- 
dren's Play-houses,  etc. 
GRAND   RAPIDS   PORTABLE   HOUSE   CO. 
GRAND  RAPIDS,  MICH. 


"MERRITT"  TYPEWRITER 

Metal  Type.  Prints 
78  Characters.  Val- 
uable for  light  cor- 
respondence. 
PRICE  $15.00. 
For  printed  matter 

ADDKKSS 

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particulars  to 

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DETROIT,  MICH. 

500  Whitney  Block. 

ARTISTS  WHO  GET  RICH 

often  give  good  advice.  Artists 
vifho  use  the  Air  Brush  are  get- 
ting rich,  and  recommend  it 
very  strongly.  It  is  distinctively  an  art  tool,  and  saves 
time  and  labor  and  increases  the  excellence  of  the  work. 
Write  for  illustrated  catalogue.     It  will  interest  you. 

Air  Brush  Mfg.  Co.,  58  Nassau  St.,Rockford,Ill.,  U.S.A. 

Barnes'  Foot-Power  Machinery. 

Workers  of  wood  or  Metal 

Without  steam  power,  using  outfits  of  these  Machines, 
can  bid  lower,  and  save  more  money  from  their  jobs,' 
than  by  any  other  means  for  doing  their  work.  Also  for 

Industrial  Schools  or  Home  Training, 

With  them  boys  can  acquire  journeymen's  trades 
before  they  "go  for  themselves."      Price-List  Free. 

W.  F.  &  JOHN  BARNES  CO. 

No.  596  Ruby  Street,  Rockford,!!!. 

Whichever  you  prefer,  we  can  supply  you 
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t  Domical  cups.  It  will  pay  you  to  investigate 
'  our  numerous  styles.  Why  not  send  for 
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tion The  Century. 
The  lauiikenbeinier  Brass  Mig.  Co. 

Cinciunati,  Oliio,  U.  S.  A. 


U5ABLj:^^H0RS|^N         C? 


?  COPYING  tKe  OLD  FA5HI0MED 
HAHD  PROCESS  wKitk  was       * 
roRGIMG.  BUAMK5  HOT  -fromj 
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COLD  HAMMER^poiNTED. 

'AIJ5ABLC  Nails  spcivk  /Sr  tl\enisclv«s. 
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error.    Sead  three  two-cent  stamps  for  illustrated  16. page  pamphlet. 

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TELEGRAPHY. 

Learners'  raanu.il  of  complete  instructions,  with  description  of  instru- 
ments. How  to  put  up  Telegraph  Lines,  Electric  Bells,  Batteries,  etc.  Bv 
maU/ree.    J.  H.  BUNNELL  &  CO.,  76  CortJandt  St.,  New- York. 

IT  SAVES  ^  THE  FUEL  ! 

Send  Postal  for  proofs,  from  many  prominent 
men,  look  at  results,  then  look  at  price.  FIEST 
OBDEK  from  each  neighborhood  filled  at  WHOLE- 
SALE rate,  and  secures  agency.   Address, 

BASIAIOE  CO.,  Bochester,  N.  T. 


SHEPARD'S  "LIGHTNING"  FREEZER 
is   the   Best.      "Queen   City"    Receipt  Bool;  of 
Prize  Receipts  mailed  free  for  the  asking. 
SHEPARD   HARDWARE  CO. 
Mammoth  Foundry,  Buffalo,  N.  Y. 


Before 
Buying 

They 
Manulaeture 


MANTELS  AND  ^miS '^^l£''^arSrr^.xr&^ii2^  Al^t^ 


ARTISTIC  MANTELS 


and  the 
Celebrated 


ALDINE  FIRE-PLACE 


HOW  HOT  IS  IT? 


$1000.^ 


Is  the  popular  summer  question,  and  one 
■which,  can  be  answered  correctly  by 

THE  STANDARD  THERMOMETER, 

Made  by  the 

STANDARD    THERMOMETER    CO.,  Peabody,  Mass. 
New- York  Office,  18  Cortlandt  St.,  Room  413 ;  Boston  Office,  John  Hancock  Building,  Boom  422. 

PRIZES  for  POEMS  on  ESTERBROOK'S  PENS-48  PRIZES. 

S  of  !$100  each;  4  of  SoO  ;  13  of  Sas  ;  30  of  SIO.  Poems  not  to  exceed  24  lines,  av- 
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and  a  combination  Rubber  Penholder.  Write  name  and  address  on  separate  sheet,  .'^end 
poems  before  Jun.  1, 1893.  Awards  made  by  competent  Jadges  soon  after.  Circulars. 
THE  ESTERBKOOK  STEEL  PEX  CO.,  ««  Joliu  Street,  Kew  York. 


SYLPH  CYCLES  R"n  easy. 

^'^,     ■      ^^  .  ^"^  ^"^   ^^  *^  ^^      A  revelation  in  spring  frames      No 

complication;  no  ungainly  features.  A  power-saver  and  speedy  everywhere.  Where  com- 
fort is  you  -wiU  find  springs.  We  add  ij^^  in.  Duryea  Crescent  Cushion  (see  cut)  or  best 
pneumatic  tires,  and  now  for  the  first  time  make  riding  over  rough  roads  and  bad  pavements  feasi- 
ble and  comfortable.  Highest  grade,  $125  to  $150.  Made  also  for  l.idies' use.  Sylph  possesses 
more  fine  special  features  than  any  other  two  mies.  You  can't  aflFord  to  buy  until  you  investi- 
gate. Good  agents  wanted.  Catalogue  free.    ROUSE-DCRYEA  CICIE  CO.,  Makers,  6  fi  St,  Peoria,  III. 


6  Habia  V.  Espanol  ? 
Parlez-Vous  Frangais? 
Sprechen  Sie  Deutsch? 
Parlate  Italiano? 


You  can,  at  your  own  home,  by 

DR.  RICHARD  S.  ROSENTHAL'S  MEISTERSCHAFT  SYSTEM, 

Learn  to  speak  fluently  either  Spanish,  French,  Italian,  or  German. 
Sample  Lesson   for  each  Language  upon  receipt  of  3-cent  stamp. 

AH  Subscribers — $5. 00  for  each  language  —  become  actual  pupils  of  Dr.  Rosenthal,  who  corrects  all 
exercises  and  corresponds  with  them  in  regard  to  any  difficulties  which  may  occur. 


MEISTERSCHAFT  PUBLISHING  COMPANY,  299  Washington  Street,  Boston,  Mass. 


THE    OLEJST    SI>RINaS,   TST^TKINS.   IsT.  Y. 


Under  the  medical  management  of  experienced  physicians.  Equipped  with  all  the  most  approved  therapeutic  appliances,  including 
Turkish,  Russian,  Electric,  Salt,  and  Iron  Batlis.  Massage,  S'wedish  Movements,  and  all  forms  of  Electricity. 
Valuable  Mineral  Springs  —  Salt,  Ii-on,  and  Iodine  Waters. 
Climate  dry,  mild,  and  equable.  No  malaria.  Surrounded  by  Pine  Forests.  Half  mile  of  broad  board  walk.  Beautiful  views,  overlooking 
thirty  miles'of  Seneca  Lake.  Picturesque  walks  and  drives.  All  modern  improvements.  Lawn-Tennis  Courts.  Bowling  Alleys.  Glass 
Solarium,  250  feet  long.  Cuisine  unsurpassed.  Consumptives,  Epileptics,  and  persons  suffering  from  any  form  of  Insanity  are  not  received. 
No  contagious  or  offensive  forms  of  disease  admitted.     Send  for  illustrated  pamphlet.  WM.  E.  LEFFINGWELL,  Manager. 


33-100    CALIBRE. 


H.  M.  OUACKENBUSH'S 
Safety  Cartridge  Rifle. 

The  best  accurate   Rifle  ever  offered  for  the  money.     Fully  guaranteed.     Recently  improved. 

SEND   FOR  CATAIiOGTJE   No.   53. 

H.    HVr.    QTJj!^CK:ENBTJSH,    JManufactiarer,    Herkimer,    N".   Y. 


SURBRUG'S  GOLDEN   SCEPTRE. 


IF  YOy  ARE  A  PIPE  SMOKER,  we  want  YOU  to  try  GOLDEN  SCEPTRE  — all  the  talk  in  the  worid  willnot 
convince  as  quickly  as  a  trial  that  it  is  almost  perfection.  We  will  send  on  receipt  of  10c.  a  sample  to  any  address.  SURBKUG,  159 
FULTON  STREET,  NEW-YORK  CITY.  Prices  GOLDEN  SCEPTRE:  i  lb.,  $1.20;  K  'b.,  650.;  %  lb.,  35c.  Postage: 
I  lb.,  20c.;   y^  lb.,  loc;  J^  lb.,  5C.     Send  for  pamphlet  of  our  goods,  giving  list  of  dealers  who  handle  them. 


(Fac  Simile.) 

This  famous  brand  of  Shaving  Soap  has  brought 

Healing  Comfort  to  over 

50  Million  Chins. 

Kieh— Creamy  Lather.     Healing  properties— gen- 
tle, but  effective— Moist— Cooling— Refreshing.— 
These  properties  have  given  this  famous 
"Vankee"  Shaving  Soap  a  world-wide 
reputation  and  a  sale  larger  than  that  of 
all  other  Shaving  Soaps. 

ECOIVOMY. 

One  cake  of  "  Yankee  "  Shaving  Soap  will  suflSce 

for  upwards  of  150 shaves. 

Ten  Safe— Easy— Refreshing  Shaves  for  1  cent ! 

^^Be  sure  you  get  the  Grenuine ! 

A    sample   cake— full  size — mailed  post-paid  to  anyone 

unable  to  obtain  it  of  his  druggist  forlSc.  in  stamps, 

The  J.  B.  Wi  LLI AMS  Co.,  Glastonbury,  Ct.  TJ.  S.  A. 


(Facsimile. ) 
No  Shaving  Soap  ever  attained  universal  popularity  so 
quickly  as 

Williams '  Shaving  Stick, 

Taking  the  place  of  all  other  Shaving  Sticks— because 
it  is  a  better  soap— makes  afar  richer— creamier  lather- 
more  softening  to  the  beard— and  more  soothing  to  the 
face.  Has  a  better  case,  (beautiful— strong— serviceable- 
lined  with  gold  lacquered  metal,  covered  with  rich  maroon 
leatherette),  and  has  a  most  delicate — delicious  odor— the 
finest  selection  of  Attar  of  Roses,  the  purest— sweetest- 
most  cost  ly  o f  perf um es. 

|^~Be  sure  you  get  Wi  lliams*. 

Sold  at  most  all  good  drug  stores.  Don't  take  anything 
else.    If  your  druggist  will  not  supply  you,  send  to  us. 

Mailed  to  any  point  post-paid  for  25o.  in  stamps  by 
The  J.  B.  Williams  Co.,  Glastonbury,  Ct.  U.S.A. 


}°Xfi °)SXj^  vA'C° °)?%\^ °)?^  vA^  vA^ 'y?^  j?^ °yfeC^ °)%\^ °)° Coojo Cq°)'^ 'Cci° 
r  o^  o  o  X3  b  oXd  o  o^  0  o  vD  Gi  o^D  Gs  o^  G>  o  v5  G>  o^J  G>  o  vD  (5  o  X3  (5  o  xD  (i 

The  Latest  Novelty  in  English  T erf  times, 
^eno  &  Go's 
"^         HIGHLAND    HEATHER. 

Delicate,  Fragrant,  Lasting. 
For  sale  by  all  dealers  in  perfumery. 

imporurs,        Zetio  &  Company, 

zMunro  &  'Baldwin, 


i'a°)°,<S'°}SXja 


New-York. 


/  &-  3  Sun  St.  Finsbury  Sq. 
London,  E. 


C. 


^  0(0  Oy  0(0  0^  ofo  o^  OKI  55*o(o  ^  0(0  o)»Wo  0^ 


Dr.  Lyon's  Perfect  Tooth  Powder. 

Thoroughly  cleanses  the  teeth 
and  purifies  the  breath.  Used 
by  people  of  refinement  for  over 
a  quarter  of  a  century. 


SOLI3    EVERYWHERE. 


White  Spotless  Arms 

Soft  White  Hands 

Shapely  nails,  an  unblemished  skin  and  luxuriant  hair  are  produced  by  the 
celebrated  Cuticura  Soap,  beyond  all  comparison  the  most  effective  skin  purify- 
ing and  beautifying  soap  in  the  world,  as  well  as  the  purest  and  sweetest  of  toilet  and 
nursery  soaps.     It  is  the  only  preventive  and  cure  of  pimples,  blotches,  blackheads, 
red,  rough  and  oily  skin,  and  most  complexional  disfigurations  and  baby  blemishes, 
because  the  only  preventive  of  inflammation  and  clogging  of  the  pores — the  cause 
of  minor  affections  of  the  skin,  scalp  and  hair. 

CUTICURA  SOAP 

Produces  the  whitest,  clearest  skin,  the  softest  hands  and  shapely  nails, 
as  well  as  luxuriant  hair  and  healthy  scalp.  Hence  its  sale  is  greater  than 
the  combined  sales  of  all  other  skin  and  complexion  soaps. 

E\/Or\/     Hlimnr    eruption,  impurity  and  disease  of  the  blood,  skin  and  scalp  is  speedily, 
\\j\  y     n  U 1 1 1 U I     permanently  and  economically  cured  by  the  Cuticura  Remedies,  when 
the  best  physicians  fail.     Price:  Cuticura,  the  great  Skin  Cure,  see;   Cuticura  Soap,  25c.; 
Cuticura  Resolvent,  the  new  Blood  Purifier,  $1.00.   Potter  Drug  and  Chemical  Corporation, 
Boston.     "All  About  the  Skin,  Scalp  and  Hair,"  64  pages,  illustrated,  300  diseases  and  testimoni- 
als, mailed  free. 


jg^     Importedj^vnies 


American  R^ose,  EasterLiiiT, 
(^lvmbian^ovquet  anemone 


i> 


<> 


\r  NOT  TO  BE  OBTAINED  OF^YOUR  DRUGGIST 
SEND  50^rOR  SAMPLE  BOX  Of  FGliR  0DOR5 


DETROIT    niCH. 


WOODBURY'S  FACIAL  SOAP, 

FOR    THE 

Sca/p,  Skin  and  Complexion. 

At  Druggists'  or  by  Mail,  50  Cents. 


A  sample  CaJce  of  soap  and  128-page  Book  on  Dermatology 
and  Beauty,  Illustrated:  on  Skin,  Scalp,  Nervous  and  Blood  Dis- 
eases and  their  treatment,  sent  sealed  on  receipt  of  10  cents;  also 
Disfigurements,  like  Birth  Marks,  Moles,  Warts,  India  Ink  and 
Powder  Marks,  Scars,  Fittings,  Redness  of  Nose,  Superfluous 
Hair,  Pimples,  Facial  Development,  etc. 

JOHN  H.WOODBURY,  Dermatological  Institute, 
125  West  42d  Street,  New- York  City. 

Consultation  free,  at  office  or  by  letter.  Mention  this  magazine. 


WORLD=WIDE    SUCCESS! 

CRAB  APPLE  BLOSSOM  PERFUME 


AND  THE  CELEBRATED  CROWN   LAVENDER  SALTS. 


No  articles  of  the  toilet  have  ever  been  produced  which  have  been  received  with  the  enthusiasm  which  has 
greeted  the  Crab  Apple  Blossom  Perfume  and  the  Crown  Lavender  Salts.  They  are  literally  the 
delight  of  two  continents,  and  are  as  eagerly  sought  in  London  and  Pans  as  in  New-York.  They  are  daily  bringing 
pleasure,  comfort,  health  and  refreshment  to  thousands  of  homes  in  every  part  of  the  world. 

Over  500,000  Bottles  Sold  during  the  past  Year. 
THE  CROWN  PERFUMERY  CO.  177  New  Bond  Street,  London. 

Beware  of  fraudulent  imitations.     Sold  only  in  the  Crown  Stoppered  Bottles  of  the  Company.     All  others  are  spurious.     Sold  everywhere 


Johann  Maria  Farina 
Eau  de  Cologne, 

Invented  in  the  year  lyoQ  by  the  most  ancient 
distiller  of  that  name,  has  won  Prize  Medals  at 
Exhibitions  of  all  nations  '■'■by  reason  of  its  ex- 
cellent qualities"  a?id  is  distinguished  by  the  label 


Its  7i€nnne  qualities,  cosmetic  effects  and  ex- 
quisite petfume  are  not  to  be  fotind  in  any  other 
toilet  preparation.      Sole  Agents  in  the   U.  S. 

PARK  &  TILFORD,  New=York. 

For  sale  at  their  stores  and  by  all  dealers  in  pcr/ujnery. 
ScTOt.  '92. 


.MV' 


It  is  Pure,  Bland,  Antiseptic,  Soothing,  and 

"...     Recalls  the  breath  of  balsamic  woods. " 

"The  Best  for  Baby's  Bath." 

Christine  Terhune  Herrick. 

"A  Luxury  for  Bath  and  Shampoo." 

Medical  Standard,  Chicago. 

"  Excellent  in  Chafing,  Dandruff,  Itching." 

Med.  and  Stirg.  Reporter,  JPhila. 


,  CAtlTION.— Beware  of  dealers  snb- 
Stitutine  shoes  without  VV.  Li.  Douclas 
name  and  the  price  stamped  on  bottom. 
Such  substitutions  are  fraudulent  and 
subject  to  prosecution  by  la^v  for  ob» 
taiuing  money  un- 
der faNr  pretences 


W.  L.   DOUGLAS 

$3  SHOE 


■Write  for  catalogue, 
wanted.    Postage  free. 


FOR 
GENTLEMEN. 

A  geniiine  sewed  shoe  that  will  not  rip;  fine  calf,  seamless, smooth  inside, 

tlcxible,  more  comfortable,  stylish  and  durable  than  any  other  shoe  ever 

sold  at  the  price.    Equals  custom-made  shoes  costing  from  $4.00  to  $5.00. 

The  only  $3.00  Shoe  made  with  two  complete  soles,  securely  sewed  at  the 

outside  edge  (as  shown  in  cut),  which  gives  double  the  wear  of  cheap  welt 

shoes  sold  at  the  same  price  ;  for  such  easily  rip,  having  only  one  sole 

sewed  to  a  narrow  strip  of  leather  on  the  edge,  and  when  once  worn 

through  are  worthless. 

The  two  soles  of  the  W.  L.  DOUGLAS  $3.00  shoe  when  worn  through 

can  be  repaired  as  many  times  as  necessary,  as  they  will  never  rip 

or  loosen  from  the  upper.     Purchasers  of  footwear  desiring  to 

economize  should  consider  the  superior  qualities  of  these 

shoes,  and  not  be  influenced  to  buy  cheap  welt  shoes  sold 

at  $3.00,  having  only  appearance  to  commend  them. 

W.  L.  DOUGLAS  Men's  $4.00  and  $5.00  Fine  Calf,  Hand 

Sewed;  $3.50  Police  and  Farmers' ;  $2.60  Fine  Calf; 

$2.25   and   $2.00  Workingmen's ;    Boys'  $2.00 

and  Youths'  $1.75  School  Shoes  ;  Ladies'  $3.00 

Hand  Sewed ;  $2.50,  $2.00  and  Misses' 

1.75  Best  Dongola.are  of  the  same  high 

Yt,-,^  i^*^?».^  standard  of  merit. 

'  HE  WQRJJJ^'  j^T^^^a;^:^^-^ Will  give  exclusive  sale 

—  '*"■"-    to  shoe  dealers  and  gen- 

eral merchants  where 
I  have  no  agents. 

If  not  for  sale  in  your  place,  send  direct  to  Factory,  stating  kind,  size  and  width 

W.  L..  DOUGLAS,  Brockton,  Mass. 


AOCUXC    WANTFn  *«  Sell  our  WESTERN  VIEWS. 

AllrNIN     ""'''^"  Ready  Sales  and  Large  Profits. 

nu  bll   I  V  y^ddress  Excelsior  View  Co,,  Colo.  Springs,  Col. 

Cash's 
"HEM=STITCH"  FRILLING, 


I 


1 


FOR  LADIES'  AND  CHILDREN'S  UNDERWEAR. 

SEND    FOR 

New  Illustrated  Pattern  Book 

(Containing  woven  samples  of  material), 

FREE    BY   MAIL.      ADDRESS 

J.  &  J.  CASH,  92  GREENE  ST.,  N.  Y. 


WHIST  PLAYERS 

■■      Whist  Monthlv.      Wliist  Piil». 


Send   for   free   copy   of 
"  WHIST,"  the  great 
Whist  Pub.  Co.  Milwaukee,  Wis. 


GOFF'S 
BRAID. 


J 


Whenever  you  visit 

the  shops  in  town, 
Looking  for  Braid 

to  bind  your  gown, 
Secure  the  Clasp, 

wherever  found. 
That  holds  the  Roll 

on  which  is  wound 
The   Braid  that  is   known 

the  world  around. 


r'c:>xji=t-i^iDF"rns 


OF  ALL  THE 


DEAFNESS 

which  has  been  relieved  in  the  United  States  during  the  past  three  years  has  been  from  the  use  of  the  Sound  Discs.     The  only  invisible,  com- 
fortable, safe  and  successful  device  ever  invented  for  the  relief  of  partial  deafness.      Sold  only  by   U.  A.  WALKS,  Kridsjcpoit,  Conn. 


PAT.  DEC.  30,  '90. 


OVER  80,000  SOLD. 

The  Paragon  Pat.  Folding  Coin  Purse. 

The  most  roomy  and  least  bulky  purse  made. 
Ask  your  dealer  for  it,  or  I  will  send  you  sample  at  following  prices,  post-paid: 

Morocco.  Calf.  Seal. 

No.  5x  holds  $4.00  in  silver $0.30  $0.50  $0-75 

"     4X      "         6.00"      "      40  .75  1. 00 

"     3X      "       10.00"      "      50  .90  1.25 

"     2X     "       15.00"      "      65  1. 25  1.75 

Patentee  and  Hole  Monuf'r,  JAMES  8.  TOPIIAM,  12S1  Pennsylvania  Ave., 
Please  mention  THE  CENTURY.  N.  W.,  Wnxhinarton,  1».  C.  437 


PAT.  DEC.  30,  '90. 


The  New  Shape. 

Crowding  the  toes  into  the  pointed  end  of  the  old 
style  stocking  causes  ingrowing  nails,  corns,  bunions, 
and  unshapely  feet. 

Causes  that  hole  in  your  stocking  where  the  big 
toe  pushes  through. 

Waukenliose  are  the  most  durable  and  the 
only  comfortable  hose  because  they  allow  the  toes 
their  natural  positions. 

Sold  by  dealers  or  by  mail. 

Men's  fiue  cotton,  three  pairs,  or  soft  lisle,  two  pairs, 
for  $1.00.  ■Women's  balbriggan  or  black  cotton,  two 
pairs  for  Sl.OO. 

WAUKENHOSE  CO.,  76  Chauncy  St.,  Boston,  Mass. 

THE   QUEEN 

Of  Union  Undergarments. 

(The  Holmes  Co.  Patents.) 

Perfection  in  fit  and  unlike  any 
other  garment,  as  shown  by  cut, 
>in  which  the  points  of  interest 
are  delineated. 

The  question  who  makes  the 
best  fitting  garment  is  easily 
answered  by  the  great  success 
we  have  made  with  our  two 
patents,  which  are  endorsed 
by  Annie  Jenness  Miller  and 
by  thousands  of  society  ladies  as 
the  best  and  most  perfect  fit- 
ting undergarment  made. 

None  genuine  unless  marked 
inside  sateen  lining: 

"The  Holmes  Co." 

These  garments  are  made  in 
all  sizes  and  qualities,  and  will 
be  sent  to  any  part  of  the  world, 
satisfaction  being  guaranteed. 

If  our  garments  are  not  found 
at  your  best  stores,  send  stamp 
direct  to  us,  and  we  will  send 
swatches  and  self-measurement 
blank,  with  circulars  giving 
points  of  interest  that  will  be  use- 
ful to  any  lady  who  intends  pur- 
chasing union  undergarments. 

THE    HOLMES   CO. 
I09   Kingston   St.,  Boston,  Mass. 


Flynt  Waist,  or  True  Corset. 

No.  I  represents  a  high-necked  garment. 
No.  2  a  low-necked  one,  which  admits  of  be- 
ing high  in  the  back  and  low  front.  No.  3  is 
to  illustrate  our  mode  of  adjusting  the  "Flynt 
Hose  Support"  each  side  of  the  hip;  also, 
the  most  correct  way  to  apply  the  waistbands 
for  the  drawers,  under  and  outside  petticoats 
and  dress  skirts.  No.  4  shows  the  Flynt 
E.vtension  and  Nursing  Waist,  appreciated 
by  mothers.  No.  5,  the  Misses'  Waist,  with 
Hose  .Supports  attached.  No.  6,  how  we 
dress  very  little  people.  No.  7  illustrates  how 
the  warp  threads  of  the  fabrics  cross  at  right 
angles  in  the  hack,  therirby  insuring  in  every 
waist  the  most  snccessful  Sbonlder 

Brace  ever  constructed. 

It  is   universally  indorsed   by  eminent   physicians  as  the   most 

Scientific  Waist  or  Corset  known. 

THE    FLYNT    WAIST 

is  the  only  garment  manufactured  where  the  material  of  which  it  is 
made  is  shrank  before  cut,  the  only  one  which  in  its  natural  con- 
struction contains  a 

SHOULDER    BRACE 

which  supports  the  bust  from  the  shoulders,  and  (so  essential  to  large 
girls  or  women)  thereby  overcomes  the  objectionable  abdominal  de- 
velopment. The  Flynt  Waist,  fitting  superbly,  permits  that  most 
desirable  grace  of  motion  possible  only  with  perfect  respiration 
gained  by  freedom  from  compression. 

For  singers,  actresses,  teachers,  or  pupils  of  elocution  or  physical 
exercise,  for  equestrians  or  invalids,  for  every  girl  or  woman,  the 
Flynt  Waist  is  unequaled. 

Thousands  of  ladies,  whom  we  have  fitted  by  mail  satisfactorily, 
are  constantly  blessing  its  inventor. 

1^°  Our  "  Manual,"  containing  48  pages  of  reading-matter  re- 
lating to  the  subject  of  Hygienic  Modes  of  Under-dressing,  Sent 
Free  to  any  physician  or  lady,  on  application  to 

Mrs.  0.  P.  FLYNT,  319  Columbus  Ave.  Boston,  Mass. 


FINE  HAND-EMBROIDERED 

IRISH  POINT  LINENS. 

Exquisite  Ne'w  Designs. just  received.  Ask  your  dealer 
to  show  you  3775  Carnation,  4877  Scroll,  4B83  Rose,  patterns.  Ini- 
tials and  monograms  made  on  special  order  through  your  dealer. 

The  "Jaydeweir"  Embroidered  Linens  are  exponents  of  the 
Highest  Art  in  Hand  Embroideries,  and  are  for  sale  at  all  first-class 
retailers.     None  genuine  without  "  Jaydeweir"  trade-maik. 

If  your  retailer  does  not  keep  them,  write  us  and  we  will  tell  you 
who  does. 

J.  D.  WEIR  &  CO.,  80  Franklin  Street,  New-York. 

Columbus  Avenue  cars  pass  the  house  from  all  depots. 


BLANKET  WRAPS 

FOB  LOUNGING,  •  FOR  THE   SICK  ROOM, 

FOR  THE  NURSERY,         •         FOR  THE  BATH, 

•  FOR  STEAMER  TRAVELING,  • 

FOR  THE  RAILWAY  CARRIAGE,  FOR  YACHTING. 

For  Men,  Women,  Children  and  the  Baby,  $2.75  to  $35,  with  Hood  and 
Girdle  complete. 

Samples  and  full  instructions  sent  on  application. 

NOYES  BROS.  426  Washington  St.  Boston,  Mass.  U. S.  A. 


FERRIS' 

GOOD 
SENSE 

CORSET 
WAISTS 

Clamp  Buckle  at  Hip  for 
Hose  Supporters.   Tap^ 
fastened  Buttons. 
Cord-edge  But%^-^ 


HAS 
MANY 

IMITA- 
TORS. 

NO  EQUALS. 

TRY 
GOOD 
SENSE." 


ton  Holes. 
Various 
Shapes. 


HI 

C 

o 


MARSHAIili 

FIELD  <fc CO.  Chlca«5? 

Wholesale  Western  Agents, 

FERRIS  BROS. 


Send  for 
Circular  to 
Manafactureri, 

Broadway,  N.  Y. 


BUEEATJ  or  MEDICINE  AND  SUHOEBY, 

■UlU.'Uli  OF  BTOtESB,  17DT  SEV  IDIZ  ATE. 


Uarel)   13,    1801. 


iMROB  BTSIEHie  ONDERflEAR  CO. , 

631  Broadwa/,  Hev  York  Ctt^. 

fiir:— Your  ravor  of  t&e  Sd  inst.  >!■•  been 
Tseetved,  and  in  reply  I  muld  state  that  1 
reeonmend  your  Hygtanlo  Hear  as  part  of  the 
outfit  of  tha  azpsdillon  baing  fitted  out  for 
Aretie  Explorations  Address,  Civil  Engineer. 
Robert  E.  Peary. 

«  letter  was  sent  you  on  the  27lti  ultimo. 
to  relation  to  tha  eaae. 

Very  respeotfully, 


iPiUi^V^ f->-m  ^'  a 


Bediaat    Director  U.    S.    Navy    to  charge. 
IIluBtrated  cataloffue  of  IJnderwear  for  JUen, 
IV omen  and  Children  mailed  on  application. 
Mention  this  publication. 


on  the  toe. 


THE  SHAWKNIT  HALF-HOSE 

ARE  UNEQUALED  IN  NICENESS  OF  FIT,  PERMANENCE  OF  DYE,  AND  QUALITY  OF  YARN. 

THE    EXTRA-FINE    COTTON 

^^-  NOW  SEASONABLE. 

THE  MOST  POPULAR  OF  THESK  ARE  THE 

FAST   BLACK  (Snowblack)  3«  4. 
MOTTLED  SLATE  3M0 

AND  THE    DRAB    VARIETIES    6^    3 

Sold  by  the  trade  generally. 

DESCRIPTIVE   PRICE-LIST  TO  ANY  APPLICANT. 

SHAW   STOCKING   CO.,  Lowell,  Mass. 


IVoveu  in  tbeir  own  Looms  and  Bleacbied  on      ^; 
their  o'wn  Greens. 
DESIGNS  by  tbe  BEST  ARTISTS. 


TUe  following  are  a  few  of  tUe  Patterns  to  wUicli  the 
attention  of  PnrcUasers  is  specially  directed  : 


No.  041.     Black  Thorn. 

"    944.     Jessamine. 

"  764.  Wild  Rose,  Aspara- 
gus, Bignonia. 

"  769.  Chrysanthemum  and 
Acacia. 

"    509.     Rose  and  Fern. 

"    531.     Gothic. 

"    534.     Early  English. 

"  550^. Hibiscus  and  Tiger 
Flower. 


No.  852, 

"  860, 

"  861, 

"  862, 

"  863, 

"  869, 

"  964' 

"  574 

"  578 

"  583 


Primrose. 

No.  883. 

Persian. 

"    975- 

Flax. 

"    976J 

Palm  and  Stephanotis. 

"    979- 

Wheat. 

"    596? 

Autumn  Fruit. 

"    598- 

Passion  Flower,  Rose 

"    607. 

and  Palm. 

"    608. 

Birds  and  Fishes. 

Japanese. 

"    620. 

Pompeian. 

"    24E. 

Mistletoe  and  Oak. 

Egyptian. 
976  J^.  Assyrian. 

Moire  Antique. 
596^. Classic  Greek. 

Egyptian  Water  Lily. 

Japanese  Fans. 

Australian  Plants  and 
Birds. 

Arum  Lily. 

Rose,   Shamrock   and 
Thistle. 


To  be  had  of  all  large  retailers. 
J.  N.  RICHARDSON,  SONS,  &  O'WDEN,  LTD.,  NE'W-YORK. 


TiPVRiPFlpraP^lFFlBWWPl^ 


Le  Boutillier  Bros. 

1 4th  street,  New-York. 

BLACK  SILKS. 

Reversible  Black  Peau  de  Soie,  -  69c.,  79c.,  89c. 
Reversible  Black  Drap  d'Alma,  89c.,  $1.00,  $1.25 
Guaranteed  Black  Gros  Grain  -  $1,  1.15,  1.25 
Guaranteed  Black  Faille  Fran9aise,     1,     1.25,     1.50 

DRESS  GOODS 

Just  arrived.  First  Fall  shipment  of  our  celebrated 
French  Broadcloth,  in  70  choice  shades,  light,  health- 
ful weight  (without  nap),  will  not  wear  rough,  and 
unsurpassed  by  any  $2.25  cloth  in  the  market.  Our 
price, $1.39 

5  cases  French  Suitings,  which  we  offer  as  an  extraor- 
dinary bargain  at  -----      29c. 

15  cases  Cheviots  and  Bucle  Suitings,  all  wool,  choice 
assortment,  worth  65c.      -         -         -         .  44c. 

40-inch  Black  Silk  Warp  Henrietta  (Priestley's  make), 
quality  usually  sold  at  $1.50,         -         -         -   $1.15 

UPHOLSTERY  GOODS. 

Furniture  Coverings,  Lace  Curtains,  Rugs  and  Mattings, 
are  shown  by  us  in  such  great  variety  that  satisfactory 
selections  can  be  made  and  at  the  lowest  prices. 

500  pairs  Chenille  Portieres,  fringed  top  and  bottom, 
worth  $7.50, $4.98 

All  mail  matter  should  bear  our  street  address. 

LE  BOUTILLIER  BROS.  14tll  St,  N,  Y, 


Registered  Trade-Mark. 


HOUSEKEEPING 
LINENS. 

Attention  is  invited  to  our  Fall  stock  of  these  goods. 
The  assortment,  always  large,  is  now  exceptionally  so. 

In  the  department  of  Table  Linen  there  will  be  found 
a  number  of  new  and  exclusive  designs  in  Damask, 
and  a  very  select  assortment  of  Hemstitched  and  Em- 
broidered articles  for  table  decoration. 

The  line  of  Towels  and  Towelings  includes  an  exten- 
sive assortment  of  the  famous  "  Old  Bleach  "  goods. 

Bed  Linens  by  the  yard  are  shown  in  all  widths  ;  ready 
made  Hemstitched  Sheets,  Pillow  and  Bolster  cases 
in  every  useful  size,  in  many  styles  and  qualities. 

James  McCutcheon  &  Co. 

THE  line:n^  stobe, 

64  West  23d  Street,  N.  Y. 

Established  1855. 


Cornucopias 

closely  clustered  in  crochet  produce  this  pretty- 
figure.  Converting  cotton  into  silk  is  as  para- 
j  doxical  as  drawing  out  while  drawing  in  ;  both 
results  are  reached  by  one  curious  operation. 
These  things,  together  with  Irish  Lace,  Sewing, 
Crocheted  Scarfs,  Belts,  Garters,  Passementer- 
ies, and  other  Fascinating  Fancywork  Fads,  are 
explained  in  "Florence  Home  Needlework,"  for 
1892,  which  is  now  ready.  Send  6  cents,  men- 
tioning year,  and  we  mail  you  the  book  ;  96pp., 
160  illustrations. 

NONOTUCK  SILK  CO.,  Florence,  Mass. 

DOII  AilTI  DRESS  REFORM 

rSILANTI  UNDERWEAR 

rFof  FALL  and  WINTER  WEAR.1    *#i^  ■#■■■■  ■■  ■■r«l  ■ 

O.  N.  S. 


NEW  IMPROVEMENTS 

—IN— 

Ypsilanti 

Equestrienne 

TIGHTS. 


"Our  New  Shape"  Combination 
Suits  are  now  on  sale.  See  new 
Fall  Catalogue  for  particulars. 

DON'T  BE  DECEIVED! 

See  that  each  garment  is  stamped 
with  our  Trade-Mark — 

"Ypsilanti  Health  Underwear" 


J^-  Send  for  new  Catalogue.  Samples,  and 
revised  Price  List.  Where  we  have  no 
Agent,  tbey  can  be  obtained  of  the  man- 
ufacturers. 

Ypsilanti  underwear  is  warranted  perfect  by  the  manufacturers,  when  stamped  with  the 
above  trade-mark,  and  sold  at  regular  prices. 

HAY  &  TODD  MFG.  CO.,  YPSILANTI,  MICH. 

Ypsilanti  Underwear  can  be  had  of  the  following  houses,  as  well  as  all  principal  retailers 
throughout  the  United  States. 

Baltimore— Hutzler  Bros.;  M.  E.  Waring. 


Boston— C.  F.  Hovey  k  Oo. ;  Chandler  4  Co. 
CliipnKO— Marshall,  Field  &Co. ;   National   Dress   Im- 
provement Association. 
Cincinnati— The  H.  &  S.  Pogue  Co. 
Dallas,  Tex.— Sanger  Bros. 

Denver— Lewis,  Son  A  Barrow;  Ballin  &  RansohoS. 
Detroit— L.  A.  Smith  &  Oo. 
Indianapolis- Wm.  Haerle. 
UouisviUe— The  Fessenden  &  Stewart  Oo. 
Memphis,  Tenn.— Gluck  k  Levy. 
Allnneapolis— R.  8.  Goodfellow  A  Ca 


New  Vork  City— Simpson,  Crawford  k  Simpson; 
H.  Freud,  No.  326  6th  Ave. ;  B.  Harding,  No.  21  E.  14th  St 

Philadelphia — John  Wanamaker ;  tlomer,  Le  Boutillier 
&  Co. 

Portland,  Ores.- P.  E.  Brigham ;  Lipman,  Wolfe  &  Oo. 

St.  Lionis- Scruggs,  Vandervoort  &  Barney  Dry  Goods 
Oo. ;  Wm.  Barr  Dry  Goods  Co. 

St.  Paul— Schuneman  k  Evans. 

San  Franci-ico- Mrs.  M.  H.  Ober  &  Co. :  Jacobs  &  Co. ; 
"The  Maze;"  Raphael,  Weill  k  Co.;  D.  Samuels. 

Washington,  D.  C— Woodward  &  Lothrop. 

Toronto,  Canada— American  Corset  and  Dress  Re- 
form Co. 


Yes 


you  will  say  to  yourself,  I   know  all 
5  about  UNION  SUITS;  but  do  you? 


You  have  probably  never  for  one  moment  considered  wearing  them,  and  yet  it 
stands  to  reason  that  they  are  the  only  right  arrangement  of  underwear.  They  do 
not  slip  down ;   they  cannot  work  up  ;  they  are  always  where  they  ought  to  be. 

are  made  in  finest  materials,  dainty,  comfortable,  easily  ad- 
justed, and  pleasant  to  the  skin.  Every  progressive  merchant 
in  the  United  States  carries  them,  or  will  get  them  for  you. 
They  are  not  expensive,  and  when  the  wear  and  tear  (partic- 
ularly the  tear)  on  the  ordinary  flannels  is  considered  they  are  economical.  They 
are  extra-fashioned  to  fit  naturally,  and  the  only  Underwear  containing  the  Lewis 
Tension  Yoke  (patented),  without  which  ribbed  Underwear  is  so  unsatisfactory. 


Ours 


Try  them.     Illustrated  Catalogue  on  application. 

LEWIS    KNITTING    CO.,  Janesville,  Wis. 


Dorothy  Baby  Clothes. 

A  reformed  system,   combining  comfort  and  beauty  with  truly  hygienic  principles. 
No  pins  to  torture.     No  slipping  of  bauds.     No  extra  fullness.     Easily  made. 

"Nothing  could  be  prettier  or  more  exquisite  than  the  ^Dorothy '  baby  clothes.  I  can  endorse  thc^e 
garments  from,  personal  knowledge,  for  the  very  daintiest  and  most  artistic  of  all  of  my  little  ones^ 
garments  were  made  over  the  Dorothy  patterns,  under  the  direction  of  Mrs.  Gunn,  toho  is  an  artist  in 
her  work."  ANNIE  JEN  NESS  MILLER. 

A  set  of  eight  patterns  (long  clothes),     -    -    $  1 .00 
A  set  of  eight  patterns  (short  clothes),    -    -        1 .00 

Sent  postage  prepaid  on  receipt  of  price. 

Garments  mcKle  to  order,  also  garments  cut  and  prepared  for  finishing  by  the 
purchaser.     Complete  outfits  furnished.     Send  for  Circular  and  Price  List.     Address 

Mrs.  B.  J.  GUNN,  40  and  42  W.  22d  St.,  New  York. 


^^-&^ulZ^ 


TO  RE  D  A       1 

1 

1 

HEIGHT  IN   FRONT 
2    IN 


'TIS  SAID 


"  Tlie  Fashion  "wears  out  more  apparel  than  the 
man  " — and  a  September  wardrobe  proves  it. 

Look  yonrs  over ;  good,  bad  and  indifferent, 
no  choice  ;  it 's  all 

TAG    ENDS    IN    TOOaERY;    the   remains   of  a 
summer's  outing. 

A  little  early  yet  to  decide  "what  next  to  wear 
next  our  necks,  but  just  to  make  a  beginning — 
what  do  you  expect  to  see  in 


&ccetfy  COLLARS  AND  CUFFS  ? 

The  right  shapes,  of  course. 

Next  month  you'll  be  better  prepared  to  consider  them  — so  will  we  be 
to  show  them. 
For  September  you  're  safe  to  wear  (^-£c<je^^   TOREDA.    At  all  outfitters. 

CLUETT,    COON   &   CO.    Makers.  Factory,  Troy.  N.  Y. 


For  All 
Stockings 

worn  by  ladies  and  children 
there  is  only  one  hose  supporter  which  cannot  cut  the  stock- 
ing. All  genuine  WARREN  HOSE  SUPPORTERS  are  made    -^ 
with  Warren  Fasteners  with  Rounded  Rib  on  Holding         ^ 
Edges — all  other  supporters  must  cut   the   stocking. 
The  Warren  is  for  sale  everywhere.     Made  by 
George  Frost  Co.,  Boston. 


■VKJ^ 


THE  ART  INTERCHANGE 

PUBLISHED   MONTHLY.      $4.00  A  YEAR. 


a  Three  Months 
Subscription, 

JULY,   AUGUST,    SEPTEMBER,  to 


$1» 


THE  ART  INTERCHANGE 


A  beautiful  monthly  magazine,  giving  5  superb  supplements  with 
every  issue  —  3  in  color  and  2  in  black  and  white.  Treats  fully  on 
HOME  DECORATION  and  all  ART  MATTERS,  elaborately 
illustrated.  Some  of  the  color  pictures  during  this  three  months 
(there  will  be  9  in  all,  3  with  each  number)  are:  Melons  and  Straw- 
berries (oil),  Sunset  on  the  Marshes  (a  dainty  landscape  in  water- 
color),  Pansies  in  Birch-bark  Canoe  (water-color),  "  In  the  Sun- 
shine "  (figure  in  oil).  Autumn  Landscape  (oil).  Brilliant  Study  of 
Geraniums. 

Send  $1.00  for  tliis  trial  subscription  ;  you  will  be 
more  tlian  pleased. 

Or,  subscribe  for  six  months  (July  to  December,  1892)  at 
a  cost  of  only  $2  .OO.  This  will  give  you  six  copies  of  this  most 
beautiful  of  monthly  magazines,  18  colored  studies  (a  few  of  which  are  named  above),  and  in  addition  we  will  send  you 
FKEK  5  colored  studies  issued  prior  to  1892,  of  your  own  selection  from  our  latest  catalogue,  which  will  be  sent  on 
application.  Each  copy  of  the  magazine,  besides  the  3  colored  studies,  includes  2  full-size  working  design  supplements, 
and  is  filled  with  exquisite  pictures  of  famous  Paintings,  and  hundreds  of  Designs  for  China  Painting,  Carving,  Burnt 
Wood,  Oil  and  Water-Color  Painting,  and  Embroidery;   also,  valuable  information  about  beautifying  the  home. 

REMEMBER,  only  $1.00  for  3  months'  subscription,  giving  3  copies  of  the  magazine  and  9  colored  plates. 

$2. 00  for  six  months'  subscription,  giving  6  copies  of  the  magazine  and  23  colored  plates. 

Sample  copy  with  3  pictures  in  color,  25  cents.     Catalogue  free. 

THE   ART    INTERCHANGE   CO. 


AN    AUTUMN    LANDSCAPE. 

Size  20  X  14  inches. 

One  0/3  colored  studies  to  be  ^iien  with  "The  Art 

Interchange  ''for  Sept.^  1892. 
reproductions  in  color  given  Ttiith  a  year's  subscriptio 


To  secure  this  offer  mention 
Sept.,  1892,  Century. 


No.  9  Desbrosses  Street,  New-York. 


CO 

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♦  A  Choice  Gift  ■.■  ■.♦ 

X  A  Grand  Family  Educator  :% 
X  A  Library  in  Itself  ".■  "."J 
X  The  Standard  Authority      /J 

♦        ^ —  ♦ 

4  NEW  FKOM  COVER  TO  COVER.  ♦ 

♦  Fully  Abreast  of  the  Times.        ♦ 

Successor  of  the  authentic  "Una-^ 
^  bridged."  Ten  years  spent  in  revising,  ♦ 
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f         SOLD  BY  ALL   BOOKSELLEBS.        t 

♦  OET    THE    BEST.  ♦ 

♦  Do  not  bny  reprints  of  obsolete  editions.  ♦ 
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^  G.  &  C.  MERRIAM  CO..  Publishers,  X 
^  Springfield,  Mass.,  U.  S.  A.  ^ 
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What  Is  Duplicate 

Whist  ? 


DUPLICATE  WHIST  consists  of  playing 

a  series  of  hands 
and  then  shifting  the  cards  so  that  in  the  end  each  side 
of  opponents  has  held  the  same  cards.  The  feature  of 
chance  is  thus  removed,  and  the  difference  in  the  score 
means  the  measured  difference  of  skill  of  the  players. 
The  maxims  of  the  standard  game  are  not  interfered 
with,  and  Duplicate  Whist  admits  of  many  fine  com- 
parisons wholly  absent  in  regular  Whist. 

THE 

KALAMAZOO 


METHOD 


is  used  by  all  the  leading  Whist  Clubs  of  America, 
and  endorsed  by  the  American  Whist  League. 

Send  for  our  Whist  Book,  containing  Duplicate  Whist 
Rules,  Conventional  Whist,  the  Laws  of  Whist,  and 
Rules  of  the  Game,  together  with  Descriptive  Price- 
List.  Your  dealer  will  show  you  complete  outfit;  if  not, 
address  the  manufacturers, 

IHLINQ   BROS.  &   EVERARD, 

KALAMAZOO,  MICHIGAN. 


you  can  make  your 

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Superb  1^ 


5   REMARKABLE   OFFERS 

THE  ART  AMATEUR 


THE   BEST   PRACTICAI,   ART   MAGAZINE. 

Intlispensable  to  all  Artists,  Teacliers,  and  Art  Students. 


3  ,u„. .    -^1  tip 

3|j     Numbers         I  Jp 


OFFER   A— »1. 
Special  for  I-andscape  and  Marine,  comprising  4 

Numbers  ofTHE  Art  Amateur  and  17  Color  Studies.  Among 
theseare:  "Putting  oflFShore,"  "The  Willow  Pool,"  "White 
Clouds,"  "Winter"  (in  progressive  stages),  "  Harvest  Time  " 
(in  progressive  stages),  "  The  Lighthouse,"  "  Hauling  in  the 
Nets,"  and  a  "Cottage  Garden."  Others  of  the  17  Color 
Studies  for  SI  are:  "  Nasturtiums,"  "The  Nativity,"  "  Dog 
in  Kennel,"  "Girl's  Head,"  "Cupid  Plate,"  "Head  of  a 
Horse." 


OFFER  C— »1. 
Special  for  Figures  and  Animals,  comprising  4 
Numbers  of  The  Art  Amateur  and  17  Color  Studies. 
Among  these  are:  "On  the  Bluffs,"  "Spitz  Dog,"  "Head 
of  a  Horse,"  "  Head  of  a  Pony,"  "  Portrait  Study"  (in  pro- 
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in  water-color),  "German  Peasant,"  "Little  Mischief."  Others 
of  the  17  Color  Studies  for  SI  are:  "  Field  Daisies,"  "  Win- 
ter," "The  Nativity,"  "Cupid  Plate,"  "Harvest  Time," 
"Norman  Peasant." 


OFFER   B  — SI. 

Special  for  Flowers  and  Fruits,  comprising  4  Num- 
bers of  The  Art  Amateur  and  17  Color  Studies.  Among 
these  are:  "Wild  Roses,"  "Field  Daisies,"  "La  France 
Roses"  (in  progressive  stages),  "Button  Bush  and  Red 
Lilies,"  "Orchids,"  "Oranges,"  "Peaches  and  Grapes," 
and  a  large  panel  of  "Pears"  (15x31).  Others  of  the  17 
Color  Studies  for  SI  are:  "Hen  and  Chickens,"  "On  the 
Bluffs,"  "The  Sick  Puppy,"  "Nasturtiums,"  "Moming- 
Glories,"  "Tulips,"  and  "Easter  Lilies." 


OFFER  D  — SI. 

Siiecial  for  China  Painting,  comprising  4  Numbers 
of  The  Art  Amateur  and  17  Color  Studies.  Among  these 
are  a  set  of  12  Dessert  Plates  (Floral  and  Ribbon  Designs); 
Cherokee  Roses,  Sweet-Pea,  Honeysuckle,  Pansies,  Carna- 
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Cracker  Jar  (Scotch  Roses),  and  Orchids. 


OFFER  E  —  SI.  Special  for  General  Household  Decoration,  Screens,  Fans,  Boxes,  Panels,  Monograms  and 
Embroidery;  also  "Wood  Carving,  Tapestry  Painting,  Pen  Drawing,  Crayon,  Pastel  and  Pyrography,  com- 
prising 4  Numbers  of  The  Art  Amateur  and  17  Colored  Studies.  Among  these  are:  "Cupids  at  Play,"  "Flying  Cupids," 
"Swallows  in  Flight,"  "Daffodils,"  "Daisies  and  Butterflies,"  "  Yellow,  Pink  and  Red  Roses,"  "Nasturtiums,"  "Good  Morning  " 
(dog  in  kennel),  "  Winter  Landscape,"  "  Head  of  a  Pony,"  "  Water-color  Sketches"  (by  Herkomer),  and  "A  Quiet  Smoke." 


Each  of  the  above  $1  offers  includes,  also,  32  pages  of  working  designs,  in  black  and  white,  with  practical  directions  for  their  treatment, 
as  well  asfor  all  the  color  plates  in  the  four  numbers  of  the  Magazine.  Also,  practical  lessons  in  Oil,  Water-Color,  Pastel,  and  Mineral  Colors, 
Biographies  of  Artists,  Engraving  of  Paintings,  of  Artistic  Interiors,  and  numerous  useful  and  pretty  designs  for  every  kind  of  Artistic 
Decoration.  T/tcse  offers  are  ?wt  open  to  the  trade.  To  avail  yourself  of  them,  return  this  (Century  Adv't)  and  say  whether  you  choose 
the  offer  A,  B,  C,  D,  E,  or  two  or  more    IWI  flM  T  A  P  11  C     M  A  R  1^  Q      ^^  ^^"''"*   M  CU/    VflDV      '""strated  Catalogue  of  Color 


of  them,  and  send  it  with  the  money  to 


Studies  for  2-cent  stamp. 


16  Gemstones  "Free," 

All  cut  and  polislied,  ready  to   have  set  into  Scarf- 
pins,  Rings,  etc.    They  cost  more  than  SI. 00,  but  we 
give  them  to  you  FREE  ;  here  is  a  list  of  them: 
SARDONYX,  BLOODSTONE,  CARNEI-IAN,  TIGER 
EYE,  MOSS   AGATE,  PETRIFIED  WOOD, 
JEWEL,  ONYX,  CROCIDOLITE, 
JASPER,  and  7.  others. 
We  give  you  these  Free  to  have  you  become  a  yearly  subscriber  to 

THE  GREAT  DIVIDE, 

Which  is  a  monthly  magazine  printed  on  fine  paper,  elegantly  illus- 
trated.    Single  copies,  10  cents.     Each  number  is  a  complete  book. 
The  Special  Features  will  include  articles  on 

Judge  Lynch,  Impromptu  Courts  on  the  Frontier,  Necktie 

Parties,  etc. 
How  Famous  Gold  and  Silver  Mines  are  Discovered. 
How  Men  became  Fabulously  Rich  in  Searching  for  Gold. 
Prospectors  and  Miners,  and  how  they  look  for  the  Precious 

Metals. 
How  the  Cowboys  Live ;   what  they  do  and  see. 
Indians,  their  Weird  and  Wild  Doings. 
Cliff  Dwellers,  their  Relics  and  Homes. 
Our  Contributors  are  Litterateurs,  Plain  People,  Cowboys,  Scouts, 
Miners,  Indians  —  people  familiar  whereof  they  write,  and  who  tell 
their  stories  in  their  own  quaint  way. 

There  is  an  object  lesson  for  you  and  yours  in  subscribing  now; 
therefore  send   $1.00  to-day   for  yearly  subscription,   and   the  16 
Gemstones  will  be  sent  you  same  day  order  is  received. 
Always  address 

THE   GREAT  DIVIDE, 

1518  Arapahoe  St.  Denver,  Colo. 

N.  B.— The  Gemstone  collection  is  used  by  hundreds  of  teachers 
in  the  public  schools  in  object  lessons  in  Semi-precious  Mineralogy. 


Sept, 


The  "Old  Reliable." 

Since  t-rying  the 

Waterman 

Ideal  Fountain  Pen 

Our  bookkeepers,  who  have  heretofore  voted  all  foun- 
tain pens  a  nuisance,  think  they  can't  use  anything 
else.  Their  inkstands  are  now  as  dry  as  contribu- 
tion boxes. 

I  use  a  "Waterman"  constantly.  It  is  as  handy 
as  a  lead  pencil,  and  never  fails  to  write  and  never 
needs  shaking  up.  Have  used  this  pen  nearly  a  year 
without  repairs,  and  now  could  hardly  do  without  it. 

J,  H.  Tewksbury,  Ag-e>tt,  Congregational 

Sunday  School  &'  Pub.  Soc,  Chicago,  III.    " 

We  make  the  best  fountain  pens  and  sell  them 

at  fair  prices,  and  refund  the  money  to  all 

who  are  not  entirely  suited. 

Send/or  an  illustrated  price-list,  with  testimonials. 


For  Sale  by 

The  H.  S.  Crocker  Co.  ,215  Bush  St. ,  San  Francisco,  Cal. 
John  Wanamaker,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 
WATERMAN&BEE,Eastem  Agents,  i49Tremont  St.  Boston. 
J.  B.  TuKEY,  175  Wabash  Ave.,  Chicago,  111. 


Agents  Wanted.  Mention  Century  Magazine. 

L.  E.  Waterman  Co. 
(9. '92)  157  Broadway,  New-York. 

Palmer  Cox's 
Brownie  Stamps 

Lots  of  Fun  and  this  Com- 
plete Outfit  for  $1.00 

16  Rubber  Stamps  of  the  very 
funniest  BROWNIES,  (same 
size  as  cut  in  advt.)  specially 
•drawn  and  copyrighted  (1892) 
by  Mr.  Cox,  ink  pad;  200  pages 
paper —  all  securely  packed  In 
neat  wooden  box.  If  your  dealer 
doesn't  keep  them,  send  us 
your  name,  address  and  $l.oo. 

THE  BROWNIE   CO., 

154  Lake  St.,  Chicago. 


TRY 

SHIPMAN'S 
SPIRAL 
FEED 


^ 


FOUNTAIN 
PEN 


The     ink    flows 

only     when      you 

want  it.     Will  write 

until     empty    without 

flooding.        Guaranteed 

satisfactory,  or  money  will 

be   refunded    within    thirty 

days  from  date  of  purchase. 

Prices,  $2.00  to  $3.50. 


We   also   make    a    Stylographic 
Pen,  $1.00  each,  delivered. 


ASA  L.  SHIPMAN'S  SONS, 

10   Murray  Street,  New=York,  U.   S.  A. 

Mention  The  Century. 


DIXON'S 


AMERICAN 
GRAPHITE 


PENCILS 


Are  nnequaled  for  smooth,  tough,  leads* 

If  your  stationer  does  not  keep  them,  mention  THE  CENTURY  and 
send  i6c.  in  stamps  to  Joseph  Dixon  Crucible  Company,  Jersey  City,  N.  J., 
for  samples  worth  double  the  money. 

THE  GEM 
PENCIL  SHARPENER. 

For  Schools  and  Offices. 
Sharpens  both  liead  and  Slate  Pencils. 

GOULD  &  COOK,  Manufacturers, 
Leominster,  Mass. 

Send,  for    OircTalar. 


ABOUT  WRITING  PAPER. 

Can't  find  writing  paper  that  suits  you!  Ever  tried  BOSTON 
LINEN  (for  society  correspondc7tce),  BOSTON  BOND  (for 
fora^n  correspondence),  or  BUNKEF  HILL  (for  every -day 
correspondence)  T  They  have  pleased  thousands  —  perhaps  they 
will  you.  Price  is  moderate;  quality  is  superior.  Your  dealer 
should  keep  them.  If  he  does  not,  and  will  not  get  them  for  you, 
send  us  three  two-cent  stamps  for  samples  and  full  information 
how  to  obtain  them. 

SAMUEL  WARD  COMPANY, 

Paper   Merchants,   Stationers,    Engravers  and   Printers, 
49  and  51  Franklin  Street,  Boston,  Mass. 


Roll  Top  Desks  from  $27  upward. 
Also  Flat  Top  and  Standing  Desks. 


1^ 


■r;r7'"Tmr'vr''TOii'?v'-'T 


Filing  Cabinets  of  all  Descriptions 
for  Letters  and  Legal  Documents. 


HIQH  GRADE 

OFFICE  FURNITURE. 

We  make  all  kinds  of  Office  Furniture. 
We  are  the  leading  manufacturers  of  labor= 

saving  office  devices. 

We  take   particular  pride  in   our  Roll   Top 

Desks  and  Filing  Cabinets. 

We  make  to  order  Fixtures,  Partitions, 

Counters  and  Railings. 

Sketches  and  Estimates  furnished.  Our  catalogue  is  illustrated, 
complete  and  suggestive.  Sent  to  any  address  on  receipt  of  five 
cents  in  stamps. 

THE  GLOBE  CO.  Cincinnati,  O. 

New=York  Agency,  40  &  42  Beaver  St. 


Positively  The  Leading  Pen. 


Mention  The  Century. 


Ask  dealers  or  send  for  catalogue. 


Half  Million  In  use. 

BLOOMSBURG,  PA. 


Prevents 


Solves  with  great  rapidity  and  absolute  ■ 
accuracy  all  arithmetical  problems. 


Saves 


WRITE   FOR  PAMPHLET   B. 


^Office  Headache. 
iMistakes  in  Addition. 
/Mistakes    in    Carrying 

Forward. 
Listing  Scattered  Items 

to  add  them. 

1 60%  of  time   in   doing 

the  work. 
I  All    the    time     looking 

for  errors. 


PELT  &  TAEEANT  MFG.  CO.,  52-56  Illinois  St.,  Chicago. 


BAR-LOCK   TYPEWRITER. 


TTlx© 


And  the  only  one  containing  the  following  features : 
VISIBLE  WRITING. 

PEKMAJVENT  ALIGNMENT. 
AUTOMATIC  KIBBON-FEED  REVERSE. 

AUT01VL4TIC  LINE-SPACING. 
UNLI3IITEI)    SPEED. 

POWERFUL  MANIFOLDER. 
MODERN  CONVENIENCES. 

LIGHT-RUNNING.—  DURABLE. 

THE  COLUMBIA  TYPEWRITER  MFG.  CO. 

146,  148  and  150  Centre  St.,  New-York. 

Solid,  for  a  Catalogvie. 


The   Simplex  Printer 

A  new  invention  for  duplicating 
copies  of  writings  or  drawings. 


From  an  original,  on  ordinary  paper,  with  any  pen,  lOO 
copies  can  be  made.    50  copies  of  typewriter  manuscripts 
produced  in  15  minutes.     Send  for  circulars  and  samples. 
AGENTS     WANTED. 

LAWTON   &  CO.,  20  Vesey  St.,  New -York. 


IMPROVED  HALL  TYPEWRITER. 

The  best  and  most  simple  ma- 
chine made.  Interchangeable 
Type  into  all  languages.  Dur- 
able, easiest  running,  rapid  as  ^ 
any.  Endorsed  by  the  Clerey  " 
and  literary  people.  Send  for 
Illustrated  Catalogue.  Agents 
wanted.  Address  N.  Typewriter 
Co.,  6U  Wash.  St.,  Boston,  Mass. 


TYPEWRITERS 
"HALF  PRICE! 

Large  stock  of  Second-hand  Machines  of  all  makes  at  very 
lowfigures.  Wesell,exchange,  or  rent  anywhere  in  theU.  S. 
Send   for  illustrated   catalogue.     Everything  guaranteed. 

XT  A  T^  I  ri  XT  A  I        TYPEWRITER 

NAT  I  O  N  A  L        EXCHANGE. 

200  La  Salle  Street,  Chicago. 
"The  Typewriter  is  mightier  than  Pen  or  Sword." 

THE  NEW  MODEL  CRANDALL 

Is  the  best  machine  manufactured  for  $50.00.  Work  in  sight;  28 
keys  and  84  characters;  alignment  cannot  change.  No  Agents' 
Commissions.  Discount  on  first  machine  ordered.  Second-hand 
"  Crandall's,"  in  perfect  order,  at  $15  to  $40.  Also  Agents  for  the 
Smith  Premier.     Send  for  catalogues  to 

THE  IRELAND-BENEDICT  CO.  (Limited),  AGENTS, 

.      Binghamton,  N.  Y.,  U.  S.  A. 


REMINGTONS,  -    -    -    -   $40.00 

CAUGRAPHS,    -    -    -   -  $25.00 

!^HAMMONDS&  YOST,    -  $30.00 


GEORGE  A.  HILL.  MANAGER.  RENTALS  $3.50  tO  $5.00  PER  MONTH. 

10  Barclay  St.,  New  York. 


SEND  FOR   CATALOGZTE. 


"  Improvement  the  order  of  the  age." 

THE  SMITH  PREMIER  TYPEWRITER  GO. 

ha,s  just  received  from  the  U.  S.  War  Department,  Washington, 
an  order  for  150  machines,  the  largest  order  ever  given  for 
typewriters  by  any  government  or  corporation. 

This  decision  was  based  upon  the' many  improvements  and  the 
superior  mechanical  excellence  of  the  Smith  Premier  over  all  other 
typewriters. 

TBE  SMITH  PREMIER  TYPEWRITER  CO.,Syracuse,N.Y., U.S.A. 

Send  for  Illustrated  Catalogue. 
■  New-York, N.y.,  293  &  295  B'way.    Baltimore,  Md.,  11  East  Baltimore  St. 
Philadelphia,  Pa.,  335  Chestnut  St.   Buffalo,  N.  Y.,  44  Niagara  St. 
Chicago,  111.,  154  Monroe  St.  Rochester,  N.  Y.,  407  Powers'  Block. 

Omaha,  Neb.,  1609^^  Farnam  St.     Detroit,  Mich.,  loi  Griswold  St. 


Pittsburgh,  Pa.,  214  Wood  St. 
Cincinnati,  Ohio,  166  Walnut  St. 
St.  Louis,  Mo.,  2o8  N.  7th  St. 
Denver,  Colo.,  1629  Champa  St. 


St.   Paul,    Minn.,   Chamber   of   Com- 
merce Building. 
Boston,  Mass.,  25  School  St. 
Minneapolis,  Minn. 


TO  ADVANCE   THE   STANDARD  OF  TYPEWRITINCY 

S5,000  in  Cash— Columbian  Fair  Prizes, 

TO  BE  GIVEN  BY  THE 

Yost  Writing:  Macliine  Company 


The  New  Yost,  with  its  direct  inking  system, 
centre=guide  alignment  and  velocity  touch,  per= 
mits  a  standard  of  work  never  before  thought 
attainable.  This  contest,  therefore,  is  of  pro- 
found interest  to  all  who  believe  in  progress 
toward  perfection !  Prizes  obtainable  by 
students  in  typewriter  schools,  teachers  or 
operators  upon  the  Yost  anywhere  in  the 
United  States  or  Canada. 


ONE   GRAND   PRIZE   OF   $  1 ,000 

will  be  given  to  the  successful  competitor  on  the  Yost  Writing  Machine  who  shall  write  in  the  neatest  form  in  the 
shortest  space  of  time  —  all  in  the  presence  of  the  Judges,  and  one  of  each  style  of  work  to  be  written  from  dictation 
on  the  spot  —  two  business  letters;  two  insurance  company's  annual  reports;  and  two  commercial  balance  sheets  — 
lines  twelve  inches  long,  paper  thirteen  and  a  half  inches  wide. 

The  Judges  to  be  appointed  by  the  WORLD'S  COLUMBIAN  FAIR  COMMITTEE  that  shall  be  appointed 
to  judge  of  the  typewriting  exhibits  at  the  Fair. 

Those  intending  to  compete  for  this  grand  prize  of  $I,ooo  must  send  in  their  names  and  addresses  one  month 
before  the  trial,  which  will  be  held  in  Chicago  shortly  after  the  opening  of  the  World's  Columbian  Exhibition. 

TEN    PRIZES   OF   $100   EACH 

will  be  given  to  pupils  in  typewriting  schools,  or  operators  anywhere,  for  the  best  ten  original  essays,  not  exceeding 
four  thousand  words  each,  written  upon  the  Yost  Writing  Machine.  Subject:  "Typewriting  as  a  Fme  Art," 
"The  Future  of  Typewriting,"  or  any  of  the  list  of  subjects  furnished  by  the  Yost  Writing  Machine  Company. 

TWENTY    PRIZES   OF   $50   EACH 

to  pupils  in  typewriting  schools,  or  operators  anywhere,  as  follows  :  Ten  prizes  to  the  ten  operators  who  shall, 
upon  the  Yost  Writing  Machine,  attain  the  greatest  speed  for  one  minute  upon  a  memorized  sentence  to  be  fur- 
nished—  this  speed  contest  to  be  upon  an  entirely  new  standard  of  absolutely  perfect  work  of  both  operator  and 
machine.  Particulars  furnished.  Ten  prizes  to  the  ten  operators  who  shall  write  correctly  from  dictation  of  new 
matter,  upon  the  Yost  Writing  Machine,  the  greatest  number  of  words  in  five  minutes.     Particulars  furnished. 

TWENTY    PRIZES   OF   $25    EACH 

to  pupils  in  typewriting  schools,  or  operators  anywhere,  as  follows  :  Ten  prizes  for  the  best  ten  transcripts,  upon 
the  Yost  Writing  Machine,  of  legal  matter  to  be  furnished;  and  ten  prizes  for  the  best  ten  samples,  upon  the 
Yost  Writing  Machine,  of  new  and  original  designs  of  fancy  work.     Particulars  furnished. 

FIFTY   PRIZES   OF   $tO   EACH  • 

to  pupils  in  typewriting  schools,  EXCLUSIVELY,  as  follows  :  Ten  for  the  best  ten  original  essays,  not  exceeding 
two  thousand  words,  written  upon  the  Yost  Writing  Machine.  Subject :  "  The  Excellencies  of  the  Yost  Writing 
Machine;"  ten  for  the  best  ten  transcripts,  on  the  Yost  Writing  Machine,  of  legal  matter  to  be  furnished ;  ten  for 
the  best  ten  original  designs  of  fancy  work  upon  the  Yost  Writing  Machine ;  and  twenty  for  the  best  twenty 
business  letters  written  upon  the  Yost  Writing  Machine.  Particulars  furnished.  Winners  of  any  of  the  higher 
prizes  for  SIMILAR  WORK  to  be  barred  from  this  competition. 

TEN    PRIZES   OF   $100   EACH 

will  be  given  to  the  proprietors  of  the  ten  tyi>ewi'itmg  SCllOOls  whose  respective  pupils  obtain  the  largest 
number  of  the  above-named  prizes. 

^ ^  Full  particillar.S  as  to  the  conditions  governing 

all  these  contests  furnished  upon  application  to  the 


»lc 


Merchants'  Exchange  National  Bank,  2^7  Broadway,  N.  V. 
This  is  to  certify  that  the  Yost  Writing  Machine  Co.,  71 
Broadway,  New-York,  has  made  a  special  deposit  with  this 
bank  of  $5,000,  subject  to  the  draft  of  the  Committee  to  be 
appointed  by  the  Judges  on  Typewriters  at  the  World's  Co- 
lumbian Fair  at  Chicago,  111.,  in  1893,  as  described  above. 
New- York,  June  20,  1892.  A.  S.  APGAR,  Cashier. 


YOST  WRITING  MACHINE  CO. 

71  and  'J 2)  Broadway, 

New-York. 


Have  you  seen  it? 


THE 


CALIGRAPH'S 

New  Keyboard. 


The  greatest  advance  made  in  type^writers  this  year. 

Call  upon  our  agents  in  any  large  city. 

THE  AMERICAN  WRITING  MACHINE  CO, 

HARTFORD,  CONN. 


BRANCHES: 
237  Broadway,  N.  Y. 
14  W.  Fourth  St.,  Cincinnati,  O. 
612  Chestnut  St.,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 
ENGLISH  FACTORY: 

Coventry,  England. 


■  THE 

HAMMOND 

MANIFOLDING 
ATTACHMENT 


BY   WHICH 


No 

Argument 
Now  left  for 
Competitors 


Send  for  Description. 


THE   HAMMOND   TYPEWRITER   CO. 

447-449   East   52d   Street, 
NEW  YORK. 


Tk  CRANDALL  Typewriter. 

A  MODKL  OF  ECONOMT, 

UTILITY,  and  DURABILITY, 

At  FIFTY   DOLLARS- 

This  is  a  strictly  first-class  two-handed  Typewriter,  inferior  to 
none  in  utility,  range  of  work,  speed,  and  convenience,  and  has  the 
following  points  to  distinguish  it  from  others  : 

1. —  "Work  always  in  sight. 

2.—  Instantly  changeable  TYPE  ;  eight  styles  in 
English. 

3. —  LETTEllS  cannot  get  out  of  "  alignment." 

4. —  One  halt"  the  i)rice  usually  paid  for  any  article 
that  will  do  anything  Uke  the  same  w^ork. 

If  you  think  of  purchasing  a  Machine,  don't  invest  your  ONE 
HUNDRED  DOLLARS  until  you  make  trial  of  the  CRAN- 
DALL, and  if  you  haven't  thought  of  buying  one  before,  the  low 
price  is  worth  serious  thought. 

Address  for  CATALOGUE  and  further  information, 

THE  CRANDALL  MACHINE  CO. 

206  La  Salle  St.  Chicago.  353  Broadway,  New- York. 

Factory,  Groton,  N.  Y. 


Typewriter 

Improvements 

as   illustrated 

by  the 

Rise  and  Progress 

of  the 

Remington. 


Wyckoff, 

Seamans  & 

Benedict, 

327 

Broadway, 

New=York,  U.  S.  a. 


The  first  practical  writing-machine, 
now  for  many  years  favorably  known 
as  the  Remington  Standard  Typewriter, 
was  in  the  beginning  an  exceedingly 
crude  machine.  In  the  year  1873  it 
was  taken  to  the  famous  Remington 
Gun  Works.  There  was  inaugurated 
that  policy  of  constant,  careful,  and 
progressive  improvement  which  has 
marked  its  subsequent  history. 

This  policy  of  improvement  has  con- 
tinued up  to  the  present  time,  and  will 
be  pursued  unceasingly  in  the  future. 
Patents  are  being  constantly  issued  to 
the  Remington  Co.  for  improvements, 
and  this  King  of  Typewriters  is  now 
protected  by  fifty-nine  patents,  most 
of  which  have  from  twelve  to  seventeen 
years  to  run.  This  ample  protection 
is  a  protection  also  to  our  patrons, 
who  will  never  be  in  danger  of  the 
annoyances  to  which  users  of  some 
other  machines  are  liable  on  account 
of  suits  brought  against  them  for  in- 
fringement. 

The  Remington  is  to-day  not  only 
Unsurpassed,  but  Unapproached,  for 
Excellence  of  Design  and  Construc- 
tion, Quality  of  Work,  Simplicity,  and 
Durability. 

Send  for  descriptive  pamphlet. 


HIGHLAND 


(^cam 


A  Table  Luxury, 

A  Culinary  Article, 

An  Infants'  Food. 

Unsweetened  and  free  from  all  preserva- 
tives. Keeps  for  any  length  of  time  in  all 
climates. 

Its  Uniform  Quality,  Convenience  and 
Economy  render  HIGHLAND  EVAPORATED 
CREAM  preferable  to  all  other  forms  of  cream 
or  milk  for  Coffee,  Tea,  Chocolate,  Ice  Cream, 
Charlotte  Russe,  Custards  and  all  uses  to 
which  ordinary  cream  or  milk  may  be  put. 

For  sale  by  all  grocers  and  druggists.  Write 
for  our  Highland  Evaporated  Cream  booklel, 
entitled  "A  Few  Dainty  Dishes." 

HELVETIA  MILK  CONDENSING  CO. 


Sole   Purveyors, 


Highland, 


SALAD 
DRESSING- 


Tomato, 

Ox  Tail, 

Pea, 

Beef, 

Vermicelli, 

Bouillon, 


t^ock  Turtle, 
Okra  or  Gumbo, 
Green  Turtle, 
Julienne, 
Chicken, 


Terrapin, 

Macaroni, 

Consomme, 

Soup  and  Bouilli, 

Mullagaiawny, 

Vegetable. 


RICH  and  PERFECTLY  SEASONED. 


Eequlre  only  to  be  heated,  and  I  Prepared  with  great  care  from  I  Have  eiyoyed  the  highest  repu- 
are  then  ready  to  serve.         1        only  tlie  toest  materials.        |   tatiou  for  more  than  32  years. 
Senrt  us  30  cents,  to  Iielj)  pay  express,  and  receive,  prepaid,  two  sam- 
ple cans  of  tliese  Soups,  your  cliolce. 

J.  H.  AV.  HUCKIXS  &  CO., 

Sole  Manufacturers,  Boston,  Mass. 


TEST  FREE 


SOLD  BY  ALL  LEADING  GROCERS. 


'Twixt  man  and  nature  a  distinction  lies 
That  can  be  seen  by  most  reluctant  eyes  ; 
While  vegetation  is  the  life  of  one, 
The  other  vegetates  and  is  undone. 
Such  is  the  man  who  from  the  stubborn  soil 
Would  reap  without  the  sowing  or  the  toil, 
When  richer  harvests  from  more  fertile  land 
Are  cultivated,  harvested,  and  —  canned. 

Our  Forestville  and  Haserot's  Fancy  Brands  of  Sweet  Corn  are 
the  Pick  of  the  Harvest.  Have  you  tried  them?  If  your  grocer 
should  not  have  them,  send  25  cents  for  sample  of  the  new  pack. 


THE 


S.  F.  Haserot,  Pres. 
F.  H.  Hasekot,  V.  Pres. 

Sales  Office  :   39  &  4:  Woodland  Ave.,  Cleveland,  O. 


FORESTVILLE    CANNING   CO. 

Factories;    Forestville  and  Gowanda,  N.  Y. 


In  hot  weather  more  infants 
die  than  in  all  the  rest  of  the 
year.  Why  is  this  ?  Principally 
because  they  are  fed  on  unsuita- 
ble food.  Nestle's  Food  is  known 
as  the  safest  diet  and  best  pre= 
ventive  of  Cholera  Infantum  and 
all  summer  complaints.  Consult 
your  doctor  about  this  important 
fact.  For  fuller  information  write 
for  our  book  "THE  BABY,"  which 
will  be  sent  free  to  any  address. 
Please  mention  this  magazine. 
Thos.  Leeming  Sl  Co.,  newyork, 


SOLE    AGENTS    FOR 


Nestle's  Food. 


REASONS  "WHY 

PETER  MOLLER'S 
COD  LIVER  OIL 

Should  be  preferred 
to  all  others. 
BECAUSE  — It  is  gen- 
uine-pure, just  as  it  existed 
in  the  hepatic  cells  of 
the  living  fish,  not  de- 
pleted of  its   natural 
virtues  by  any   pro- 
cess of  refining,  nor 
weakened  by  be- 
ing made  into  an 
e  in  n  I  s  i  o  n 
with  an  equal 
qiiaiitityof 


In  taste 
and  smell 
It    IS    not 
offensive, 
buimste  id 
sweet  ind 
agreeible  — 
Itsadministra 
tion  is  always 
followed  by  sat- 
isfactory results 
— It  IS  more  easily  as- 
similated   thin     other 
oils  — It    IS  more  nu 
tntious  thin  otht  roils 
— Of  Its  [  erfect  diges 
tibility,  perfect   limpidity. — 
This    perfect  oil  costs  consumers  no 
more  than  the  poorer  qualities  abound- 
ing in  the  stores  —  It  is    readily  ob- 
tainable ;   all  well-stocked  drug  stores 
have  it. —  It  is  unquestionably  the 
purest  and   best    COD    LIVEK 
OIL    IN    THE    WORtD. 

W.  H.  Schieffelin  &  Co. 

NEW-YORK, 

Sole  Agents  for  the  TJ.  S.  and  Canada. 


'^Dinner  is  Served" 


But  the  Soup  spoiled  it  all— 
rN„M  Ko„^  »^«^  "White  Li abel." 


Should  have  used 
THE 


WHITE    LABEL 


mu 

TRADE 
MARK 

ARE  THE  ONLY  INDISPUTABLY 
CORRECT  CONSERVED  SOUPS. 

Send  10  Cents,    or  name  and  address  of  your  Grocer  with 
this  clipping    and  &  cents  for  sample  can. 

An^ouff  pjKCniNO  co. 

SOUP   DEf>AftrM£NT. 
17  Varibties,  KANSAS  CITY.   MO. 


Sept.  '93. 


ASK    YOUR    GROCER    FOR 


The    Celebrated 


CHOCOLAT 
ENIER 


Annual  Sales  JExceed    33     MILLION    LbS< 

Write  for  Samoles.   Sent  Free.  Menier,  Union    Sq.  N.  Y. 


Beeman's  Pepsin  Gum 


THE  PERFECTION  OF  CHEWING  GUM, 

A  DELICIOUS 

REMEDY  fo^r^fof  INDIGESTION. 

Each  tablet  contains  one  grain  pure  pepsin,  sufficient 
to  digest  1,000  grains  of  food.  If  it  cannot  be  obtained 
from  dealers,  send  five  cents  in  stamps  for  sample 
package  to 

BEEMAN  CHEMICAL  CO.  2  Lake  St.  Cleveland,  0. 

Originators  of  Pepsin  Chewing  Gum. 

A  complete  garment,  worn  tinder 

the  cor«et  or  tlannels,  protecting 

» the  clothinp:   from    perspiration. 

''Cheaper  than  dress  sbieliis,   one 

pair  doing  the  work  of  six. 

Misses',  bust  measure  28-33,  f.RO 

Ladies',  bustmeasure34-39,    l.UO 

a\jci'<ict    »T  jij-,  a  Hi..        Ladies',     "  "         40-46,    1.2S 

B.  DKWKY,  Manufacturer,  1»!)7  WKST  MONROK  ST.,  CIIICAGU. 

Send  money  by  Post  Office  Order.    Catalogue  Free. 


AGENTS  WANTED. 


GOOD   NEWS 


TO  LADIES,  BOYS  AND  GIRLS. 

Gold  and  Silver  Watches  FREE.  Beafitiful 
Imported  Decorated  China  Tea  and  Dinner  Sets, 
IToilet  Sets,  Lamps,  Castors,  Silver  Butter,  Fruit 
land  Cake  Dishes,  Silver  Tea  Sets,  Knives,  Forks, 
'Crayons,  Webster's  International  Dictionaries, 
etc..  Given  Free  \vith  $ic,  $15,  $20,  $25,  $30,  $40  orders.  For 
full  particulars  address  THE  GREAT  AMERICAN  TEA  CO. 
P.  O.  Box  28(5.  31  and  33  Vesey  St.  New-York. 


4SH  R  EWSBU  m5))j^^^^^^. 
iO^^TPriATPKETCHUF^^)^ 


ibow  use  doth  breed  a  habit  in  a 
man  !  "  for  who  that  once  hath  used 
himself  to  Shrewsbury  Tomato- 
ketchup  with  good  will  giveth  up 
that  relish  to  his  meat? 


E-C-HZ^ZZvrcI  a(C9A^eM^^rK^^^ 


Unmounted     Photographs 

of  Ancient  and  Modern  Works 
of  Art,  embracing  famous  paint- 
ings, sculpture,  architecture, 
etc.  Price,  cabinet  size,  $1.50 
per  dozen;  larger  sizes  in  pro- 
portion. Lantern  Slides  to 
order.  Send  15  cents  for  cata- 
logues of  12,000  subjects.  Photograph  Mounting 
in  albums  or  on  cards  a  specialty. 

SouLE  Photograph  Co.  Publishers, 

338  Washington  Street,  Boston,  Mass. 

Principa  I  A  ge tides  : 
E.  P.  Dutton  &  Co.   31  West  23d  Street,  N.  Y. 
M.   O'Brien  &  Son,   208  Wabash  Avenue,  Chicago. 
W.   K.  Vickery,  108   Grant  Avenue,  San  Francisco. 
J.  E.  McClees  &  Co.  1417  Chestnut  St.,  Philadelphia. 
Please  mention  The  Century. 


Jixact  Size» 


Hotel    Brunswick 


EQUAL  TO  ANT  IMPORTED  CIGAR.    We  preferyou  should  buy  of  your  dealer;  if  he  does  not  keep  them  send  91.00 
for  sample  box  of  10,  by  mail,  to  JACOB  STAHL,,  JR.,  168th  Street  and  3d  Avenue,  Mew  York  City. 


"We  are  advertised  by  our  loving  friends." 

A  Mellin's  Food  Girl, 


ALICE    CORINNE    cox,    la    GRANQE,    GA. 


Give  the  Baby  Mellin's  Food 

if  you  wish  your  infant  to  be  well  nourished,  healthy,  bright,  and 
active,  and  to  grow  up  happy,  robust,  and  vigorous. 

OUR   BOOK    FOR   THE   INSTRUCTION    OF   MOTHERS, 

"The  Care  and  Feeding  of  Infants^'' 

Will  be  mailed  free  to  any  address  on  request. 
THE  DOLIBER-GOODALE  CO.,  Boston,  Mass. 


J  "  I  have  tried    Lactated    Food    in    a    number    of    very 

troublesome  cases,  and    have  uniformly  found    it  to    agree 

well  with  the  children,  and  better  than  any  other  of  the  forms  of 
artificial  nourishment  I  have  ever  used,  and  my  experience  with  them 
has    been    very    large. 

(  Signed  )  Cr^'^^T^MC,-^"  /^ 

Professor  of  Diseases  of  Children,  Medical  Department,  of  the  University  of  Vermont;  Clinical  Professor  of 
Children''s  Diseases,  Woman''s  Medical  College  of  the  New  fork  Injirmart/;  Associate  Professor  of 
Children's  Diseases  in  the  New  York  Post- Graduate  Medical  School. 


z 
o 

Pi 

o 


To  Physicians  and  flothers  :== -'^'V/  ota  this  coupon  and 

send  to     Wells,    Rickardsott  6^   Co.,    Burlington,    Vt.,  or  mail   them  a 
postal  with   your  request,    and  you    zuill    receive,   post-paid,  a    2^    cent 

"""    =    Lactated  Food    = 

as   endorsed  by  Prof.  Roberts,  it  being  understood  you  are  to  give  it  a 
fair  trial.       Be  sure  to  sign  your 


A^anie 


Post   Office 


State 


c 

to 

n 

C/2 


11' 


fl 


Extract  of  RFFF, 


Don't  confine  the  use  of  Armour  s  Extract 
to  the  sick  .room.  It  is  invaluable  to  the 
sick  and  convalescent,  but  its  greatest  field  is 
in  the  kitchen  and  camp.  There  are  many- 
ways  of  using  Armour  s  Extract.  Our  little 
Cook  Book  explains  several.  We  mail  it  free. 

Armour  &  Company,  Chicago. 


provided  only  they  are  prepared  by  the  Franco - 
American  Food  Company.  (SOLD  BY  GROCERS.) 


Our  Plum  Pudding  cans  are 
self-opening  as  explained  on 
each  can. 


Sample  can  of  Soup  (any  one 
of  the  twenty  kinds)  or  Plum 
Pudding,  mailed  on  receipt  of 
14  cents. 


Green  Turtle,  Terrapin,  Chicken,  Chicken  Gumbo,  Mulliga- 
tawny, Puree  of  Game,  Mock  Turtle,  Ox  Tail,  Consomme, 
Tomato,  French  Bouillon,  Julienne,  Printanier,  Mutton  Broth, 
Vegetable,  Beef,  Pea,  Clam  Chowder.  Clam  Broth,  Pearl 
Tapioca. 

Franco- American  Food  Co., 

West  Broadway  &  Franklin  SL,  New  York. 


Sisterly  Advice. — If  you  'd  dnnk  "  Mamtou  "  Table  Water  you  would  be  free  from  these  headaches  in  the  morning. 

What  Do  You  Feed  the  Baby? 

Lacto=Preparata, 

An    ALL-MILK    FOOD   for   the 
first  Eight  Months. 


Carnrick's  Food, 

For  the  remainder  of  the  nursing  period. 


THE   TEXAS  QUADRUPLETS. 

INGERSOLL,  Texas. 
Messrs.  REED  &  Carnrick  : 

Gentlemen— By  the  way  of  introduction,  I  am 
the  happy  father  of  a  quartette  of  girls,  born  January 
loth,  1890.  Soon  after  their  birth  I  worried  along  as 
well  as  I  could  with  wet-nurses,  but  being  unable  to 
get  anything  constant,  I  resolved  to  try  artificial  food. 
I  tried  several  foods,  and  whether  owing  to  my  failure 
to  comply  with  their  intricate  method  of  preparation, 
or  whether  the  foods  were  not  suited  to  our  particular 
babies,  I  can't  say.  However,  they  disagreed  with 
them,  whereupon  we  tried  CARNRICK'S  FOOD  with 
the  best  results.  They  are  all  doing  finely.  Can  you 
furnish  me  with  a  case  of  Food  at  wholesale  price  ? 
Yours  truly,  E.  T.  PAGE. 


THE  above  two  foods  are  the  only  prepared 
Infant  Foods  worthy  of  the  name,  and  the 
only  ones  that  will  perfectly  nourish  an  infant. 
Send  for  free  samples  and  sixty-four  page  pam- 
phlet, entitled  "  Our  Baby's  First  and  Second 
Years,"  by  Marion  Harland,  with  advice  by  an 
eminent  physician  on  care  and  feeding  of  infants. 


REED  &    CARNRICK, 

NEW-YORK. 


Stores  for 

the  Winter! 

This  is  the  time  of  year  when 
we  are  preparing  for  you,  who  are 
"summering,"  those  luscious  fruits, 
preserves,  and  jelHes,  without  which 
your  winter  table  would  be  incom- 
plete. 

As  "Good  wine  needs  no  bush," 
so  our  products,  where  known,  need 
no  praise:  they  have  merit.  There's 
a  difference  between  good  preserves 
and  preserves ;  if  you  're  a  judge  of 
the  former,  ask  for  those  bearing 
our  name. 

If  you  cannot  procure  our  products 
from  your  dealer,  write  us  for  our 
New  Season's  Catalog  and  Souvenir. 

If  you  care  for  it,  ask  for  sample 
"  Blue  Label"  Tomato  Ketchup, 
which  we  will  be  pleased  to  send  free. 

CURTICE    BROTHERS    CO. 

ROCHESTER,  N.  Y. 

Please  mention  The  Ce.n'TURY. 


"»•  ^"""gh  f-- 


When  you  eat  Mince  Pie,  you  wa?ii 
to  feel  sure  it  is  clean  and 
talwlesome,  as  well  as   delicious. 

DOUGHERTY'S 
NEW  ENGLAND 
MINCE    MEAT 

Meets  all  these  requirements. 

Send  lo  cents  postage  for  sample  package. 


Xl.IES.^SOXta'S    TT^EfK- 


]  M  [TABLE  watehW  m 

1/ 

y%^  M  9>^m^mir  §^ 

^  s 

Is  deemed  superior  to  all  others : 

1st.  It  is  a  pure  water  and,  unlike  most  of  the  table 
waters,  is  unadulterated  by  salt  or  any  other  ingredient. 

2d.  It  is  a  fresh  water  from  a  mountain  spring,  and 
has  the  pleasant  taste  and  refreshing  quality  which  can 
only  be  found  in  mountain  spring  water. 

3d.  It  is  the  most  sparkling  and  effervescent  of  all 
waters,  being  charged  with  its  own  gas  taken  out  of 
the  same  spring. 

4th.  Recommended  by  all  physicians  who  have  tried 
it  as  the  best  remedy  known  for  indigestion  and  stomach 
troubles. 

5th.  A  chemical  analysis  shows  it  contains  the  best 
properties  to  act  on  stomach,  liver  and  kidneys.  Pre- 
pared in  nature's  laboratory,  it  produces  an  effect  on 
the  system  that  cannot  be  duplicated  by  any  combina- 
tion man  can  create. 


The  analysis  of 


UlmUtm/  * 


\l\lakY 


Unexcelled  for  family  use. 
50  24 


Packed  in  cases  ot 


Quarts. 


Quarts. 


By  Prof.  Elwyn  Waller,  Ph.  D.,  Analytical  Chemist, 
New-York  City,  found  it  to  contain 

Sodium  Chloride,             .            .             -             -  2.993 

Potassium  Sulphate,              -             -             -  '.336 

Sodium  Sulphate,             ....  1.268 

Sodium  Carbonate,   -            .             -             -  S'083 

Lithium   Carbonate,         .            _             -            -  .089 

Calcium  Carbonate,                -            -             -  8.635 

Magnesium  Carbonate,  -            -            -            -  2.085 

Iron  Oxide,               .            .            .            -  .003 

Aliunina,               .            .            .            -            .  .009 

Silica,              ....            -  .312 


It  contains  free  carbonic  acid  gas. 


21.813 


Your  druggist  or  grocer  has  it  or  ■will  procure  it /or  you. 
Circulars  sent  on  application  to 

MANITOD  MINERAL  WATER  CO.  MANITOD,  COLO. 


IVIANITOU  GLSGER  CHAJVIPAGNE  is  made  from  the  Manitou  Mineral  Spring  Water  combined  with 
Jamaica  ginger  and  fruit  syrups.     Absolutely  non-alcoholic  and  specially  recommended  for  ladies  and  children. 


BUFFALO  LITHIA  WATER 

IN 

Dipsomania  and  Morphinomania 

(Liquor  and  Opium  Habit). 

A   BOON  TO   WOMEN. 

Q.  HALSTED  BOYLAND,  M.  A.,  M.  D.,  of  the  Faculty  of  Paris,  and  formerly  Professor 
in  the  Baltimore  Medical  College,  etc.,  etc.  : 

"  I  have  frequently  observed  the  curative  effects  of  Buffalo  Lithia  Springs,  Nos.  i  and  2,  in  the  treatment  of 
DIPSOMANIA  and  MORPHINOMANIA. 

"These  waters  ALLEVIATE  THE  GASTRITIS  upon  which  the  CRAVING  FOR  ALCOHOL  AND 
OPIUM  depends,  ALLAY  the  CEREBRAL  HYPEREMIA  and  NERVOUS  EXCITABILITY,  OVER- 
COMING at  the  SAME  TIME  the  HEPATIC  and  RENAL  ENGORGEMENTS  so  commonly  found  in 
these  cases.  .  .  .  BUFFALO  WATER  SPRING  No.  i  is,  perhaps,  more  than  any  other  water  in  the 
world,  a  specific  for  diseases  of  women." 

73  Avenue  d'Antin,  Paris,  France. 

April  i6th,  1892.  

N,  B. —  Spring  No.  i  is  more  generally  prescribed  in  the  Alcohol  and  Opium,  as  also 
in  the  Tobacco  habit,  in  which  it  is  equally  beneficial. 

Water  in  cases  of  One  Dozen  Half  ^Gallon  Bottles,  $5.00  F.  O.  B.  here.  Descripdve 
Pamphlets  sent  free. 

THOMAS  F.  QOODE, 
HOTEL  OPEN  JUNE  ist.       Buffalo  Lithia  Springs,  Virginia. 


The  Warsaw  Salt  Baths 

Warsaw,  Wyoming  Co.  New-York. 

Bishop  John  H.  Vincent  says: 
"  One  of  the  loveliest  spots  for  an  outing,  in  which 
scenery,  fare,  treatment,  recreation  combine  to  give  good 
cheer  and  promote  good  health,  is  in  Warsaw,  New- York, 
up  on  the  hillside,  in  the  Hotel  at  the  Salt  Baths.  There 
one  may  be  a  patient,  and  forget  it  in  the  idea  that  he  is  a 
guest,  and  then  forget  that  he  is  a  guest  in  the  thought 
that  he  is  at  home.  Salt  Water  from  two  thousand  feet 
under  ground  rushes  up  into  capacious  bathing  places, 
and  masters  of  massage  rub  strength  and  life  into  one's 
flesh  until  the  very  bones  seem  to  feel  the  force  of  it. 
Lovely  drives,  vast  perspectives,  glorious  sunsets,  whole- 
some food,  delightful  fellowship,  solitariness  and  society 
alternating  at  one's  own  sweet  will  —  these  are  some  of 
the  attractions  at  the  Warsaw  Salt  Baths  in  Warsaw,  New- 
York." —  October  Chautauqua?!. 

Open  all  the  Year. 

JOHN  C.  riSHEK,  M.  D. 


The  Union  Pacific 

Selected  by  The  U.  S.  Government  to  carry  the 

FAST   riAIL. 

The  Shortest  Time  Across  the  Continent  to  Portland. 

The  best  line  and  quickest  time  to  Denver,  Salt  Lake  City, 
Ogden,  San  Francisco,  and  all  the  famous  resorts  of  the  West. 


GARFIELD    BEACH,    GREAT    SALT    LAKE. 

■ifour  nearest  Ticket  Agent  can  tell  you  about  the 

UNION   PACIFIC. 

R.  TENBROECK,  Gc,rt  Eastern  A^t.,  287  B'dway,  N.  Y.  City. 

S.  H.  H.  CLARK,  E.  DICKINSON, 

Vice  PresU  and  Gett'l  Me;!'.  Ass't  Gen' I  Mgr. 

E.  L.  LOMAX,   Ge'nU  Pas^r  and   Tictcet  Agi. 
OMAHA,  NEB. 


Here  ' s  the  seal  which 
the  Republic  of  France  places 
tip  on  the  neck  of  eveiy  bottle  Oj 
gemtine  Vichy.     It  protects  the  con- 
sumer, for  by  it  he  inay  easily  tell  whether 
he  is  drinking  3\[atzires  wonderful  beverage 
or  the  zvorthless  imitation  of  the  apotheca7y .    If 
you  feel  a  twinge  of  gottt  occasionally,  suffer  from 
dyspepsia,   constipation,  gravel  or  any  disease    of  the 
urinary  organs,  or  if  the  liver  is  sluggish  in  its  action, 
try  Vichy ;  it  will  help  and  may  citre  yott.   If  you  have  the 
time  and  money,  go  to  France  and  drink  at  the  Springs; 
if  not,  yott  may  have  it  here.      The  alkalinity  of  the 
water,  and  its  richness  in  carbonic  acid  gas,  have  a  stiinu- 
lating  effect  upon  the  appetite  and  digestion,  which  makes 
Vichy  [Celestin)  a  most  delightful  table-water.      Taken 
regularly  at  meal  times,  it  seems  to  refresh  and  clear  both 
body  and  7nind,  acting  at  the  sa7ne  time  as  a  preventive 
agai7ist  disease.     Last  year  the  Fre7ich  Gover7i77ient  ex- 
ported over  six  77iillio7i  quarts.     ''Before  you  dri7ik  Vichy 

Look  for  the  Seal. 

Sept.  '92. 


THERE'S  ELWOOD! 

Now  Elwood  IS  a  GOOD  THING.  //  is  a  town 
of  6000  people  in  the  very  heart  of  the  INDIANA 
NATURAL  GAS  FIELD.     Speaking 


IN 


PLATE  GLASS, 

LAMP  CHIMNEYS  and  TIN  PLATE  (of  the 
bright,  dinner-pail  variety)  ELWOOD  has  the 
largest  factories  on  the  continent. 


IF 

You  'U'  come  and  buy  one  lot  we  'U  pay  your  fare 

both  ways. 

A 

SURE, 

SAFE  AND 

CONSERVATIVE 

THING 
is  ELWOOD  ! 

New  town,  new  people,  new  factories.      Think  of 
it !     Call  on  or  write 


OF 

1 N /\  1  LJ  Iv/vL  V_j/\0,  ever  teU  you 
that  the  Indiana  field  is  from  16  to  20  times  larger  than 
the  combined  areas  of  the  Ohio  and  Pennsylvania  fields  ? 
WELL,  IT  IS — and  figuring  on  the  consumption  at  and 
near  Pittsburgh  (which  will  not  be  attained  in  Indiana 
for  a  long  time),  and  counting  in  the  difference  in  si(e  of 
the  fields,  OUR  GAS  should  last  over  100  years   !  I  !  !  ! 


WE  GIVE 

LAND  and  FREE  GAS  to  factories,  and  have  lots  to  sell  close 
^  to  town,  at  low  prices,  good  si^es,  and  easy  payments. 
There  is  an  inflation  in  enterprise,  but  none  in  prices. 
Population  doubled  last  year.  ELWOOD  is  not  lost  on  a 
western  prairie,  nor  hung  up  on  a  southern  mountain-side, 
but  is  on  the  "  tow-path  "  of  the  nation.  All  the  World's 
Fair  travelers  will  see  it.  It  's  in  reach  and  in  sight 
on  the  "Pan-handle"  and  Lake  Erie  &  Western  Railways.^ 


THE  ELWOOD  LAND  CO. 
ELWOOD,  INDIANA. 


Economy  Is  Wealth. 

Why  pay  $  |00  P^^"  X^^""  f""^  y^^*"  -^^^^  Insur- 
ance when  the  Same  Amount  of  Insurance 
can  be  had  in  one  of  the  strongest  Life  In- 
surance Companies  in  the  world  for  $50  ? 


Mutual  Reserve  Fund 
Life  Association. 

RECORD  AND  FINANCIAL  STANDING. 

MEMBERSHIP,  OVER 60,000 

Interest  Income,  annually,  exceeds $127,000.00 

Bi-Monthly  Income  exceeds 600,000.00 

RESERVE  FUND,  JULY  21st,  1892 3,269,297.89 

Death  Claims  paid,  over 13,360,000.00 

Saving  in  Premiums  exceeds 30,000,000.00 

New  Business  in  1891  exceeds.      50,000,000.00 
INSURANCE  IN  FORCE  exceeds 220,000,000.00 

RELIABLE  AGENTS  WANTED  IN  EVERY  STATE. 

Home  Office, 
Potter  Building,  38  Park  Row,  New- York. 

E.  B.  HARPER,  President. 


BETTER  THAN  ENDOWMENT! 

The  $10,000  Life  Policy 

OF  THE 

Massachusetts  Benefit  Association 

AND 

The  $10,000  Bond 

Issued  in  connection,  the  two  contracts  covering 

At  Less  Cost  than  an  ordinary 
Endow^ment  Policy  of  $10,000. 
The  peculiar  advantages  of  this 
system  over  any  other  are  fully 
set  forth  in  a  leaflet  sent  free  to 
any  address,  by  the 


Exchange  Building,  State  Street,  Boston. 

OEOROE  A.  LITCBFIELD,  President. 


iSTriKina 


MODERN  PROGRESS 

Paraphrases    Mahomet's  battle-cry  to  read: 
"There  is   but  one  Chicago  and  Griffith  is  her 
factory   suburb."   Here's    why:  Griffith   is  on 
the  Belt.  Note  that.  On  Chicago's  only  com 
plete  Belt  Railroad.  And  more.    It's  the 
buckle onthe  belt.  A  buckle isthe place^ 
on  a  belt  where  everything  comes 
together,  isn't  it?  Well,  Griffith 
is  the  place  on  the  Chicago  Belt 
Road  where  two  fuel  oil  pipes 
and  four    rail-roads    come 
together.  Enough  said.  That's 
foundation  and  material  for  a 
factory   city.     More  so  since 
it's  near  Chicago;  twenty-five 
miles  from  her  heart-center, 
nine    miles  from  her  limits. 
Factories    don't  go   inside  the 
city.  They  want  elbow  room;  want 
it  cheap.  They  want  low  taxes.  They 
want  satisfied,   sober    labor.     They 
want     town    encouragement.     They 
hate    city    hamperings.      Therefore 
they    come  to    Griffith.      Four    have 
come.  More  will  come.    Why  not.   They 
get  free  sites  and  switches.     Flue  dollar 
a  car  switching  rate  to  and  from  Chicago. 
Chicago    rates  of   freight  everywhere 
else.     Cheapest,  best  fuel  right  on  tap. 
Griffith's  growth  is  insured.     Factories 
guarantee  it.    Towns  grow  on  factories 
lil<e  babies    grow  on  mill<.     Shrewd  in- 
vestors buy  in  a  growing  town  and  sell^ 
when  it's  a  grown  city.    How   would 
that  suit   you?  Griffith   is    young  and 
new  and  growing.    Lot  prices  are 
now.     The    profit  is    in  them  yet.  It 
costs  a  cent  to  find  out  all  about  it. 
If  you  save  that  cent,   you  lose  a 
life-time  chance.  Drop  us  a  card 
today.     We  want  to  post  you  on 
Griffith.   We  are  only  waiting  fo 
your  address.    Here's  ours:  JAY 
DWIG6INS  &  CO.,  Founders  and 
Promoters  of  Griffith,  Room 
136  Washington  St.  Chicago 
References:  Metropolitan  Na- 
tional and  Columbia  Nation- 
al  Banks  of  Chicago   and 
Chicago  Real  Estate  Board. 


CHICAGO'S  GROWTH 
IS  HUGE,  RAPID, 
SOLID,  SUBSTANTIAL. 
FACTORIES  CAUSE  IT; 
THEY  SEEK  SITES  IN 
FACTORY  SUBURBS  ON 
BELT  RAILROADS. 
TOWN  OF  GRIFFITH 
HAS  IN  OPERATION 
FOUR  RAILROADS; 
THREE  TRUNK  LINES 
AND  A  COMPLETE  BELT 
CONNECTING  WITH  26 
GREAT  RAILROADS: 
QUICK  FREIGHT  TRANS- 
FERS. STANDARD  OIL 
.'S  TWO  PIPE  LINES 
GIVE  CHEAP  FUEL. 
THESE  ADVANTAGES 
BRING  FACTORIES: 
FACTORIES  ATTRACT 
LARGE  POPULATION, 
MAKE  BIG  CITIES. 
BUY  WHERE  THERE'S 
SURE  GROWTH  AHEAD. 


A  great  many  people  know  that  there  is  profit  in  Newspaper  Advertising. 
An  increasing  number  reahze  that  the  profit  depends,  as  with  other  business 

means,  on  how  it  is  used. 
The  simple    essentials  are  proper  articles,  advertisements,  time,   territory, 

newspapers,   prices  and  service. 
The  right  combination  of  these  opens  the  door  to  business  success. 
If  a  man  has  enough  time  to  experiment,  he  may  hit  the  combination  and 

unlock  a  strangle  Safe. 
If  its  contents  are  valuable,  and  others  are  after  them  also,  it  might  be  much 

to  his  advantage  to  get  the  right  combination  from  some  one  who  knows. 
The  experience,  facilities  and  organization  of  twenty-three  years  are  at  the 

service  of  our  patrons — large  or  small.     Correspondence  solicited. 

N.  W.  AVER  &  50N, 

Newspaper  Advertising  Agents, 
Philadelphia. 


Consult  your 
Feet. 

We  are  beginning  now  so 
that  when  Fall  and  Win- 
ter comes  you  will  be  in- 
formed about  the  proper 
treatment  of  your  feet. 


We  think  that  we  can  prove  that 
you  have  been  abusing  them  in 
nothing  more  than  in  wearing 
leather  so  exclusively. 


"On  a  Felt  Footing;," 


a  pamphlet  of  32  pages,  (sent 
without  charge)  will  set  you 
thinking.  If  you  will  but  think 
we'll  take  our  chances  of  sell- 
ing you  Alfred  Dolge's  Felt 
Shoes  and  Slippers. 


Daniel  Green   &"  Co., 

SOLE  AGENTS, 
Union  Square,  New   York. 


This  trade-mark 
on  all  our  goods. 
None  genuine 
without  it. 


FeltSiippersI 


(aT||(ear(h 


em 


Every  Pair 
a  perfect  tit 


To  know  what  one  wants,  and  to  get  what  one  wants,  are  two 
different  propositions.  This  is  as  true  of  gloves  as  of  anything 
else.  You  want  gloves  that  won't  rip  or  tear,  gloves  that  will 
wear  well.     You  can  ^^ — -— — ^  always    g-et    them   if 

you  will  see  that  this     /Y^^J^^f*^^  brand  is   on    the    in- 

side of  the  ^love.  V^^Oiyil^^  We  are  spending  a 
great  deal  of  money  ^^---^  Q^  ^^^^^^         to  let  every  one  know 

that  the  P.  &  P.  gloves  with  this  brand  inside  are  reliable.  This 
is  why  we  advertise. 

If  your  dealer  does  not  keep  these  gloves,  inform  7is  of  the  fact, 
and  we  will  send  yoti  the  address  of  our  nearest  agent,  and  inclose 
yoM  with  same  a  card  entitling  you  to  a  discount  of  10%,  on 
the  first  pair  which  you  purchase  of  our  celebrated  Fontaine 
glove. 

PINGS  &   PINNER, 

384  &  386  Broadway,   New-York. 


A  TAILOR 

knows  about  clothes.  It  is  his  business  to 
know  about  them;  he  works  on  them;  thinks 
on  them ;  talks  on  them ;  sees  them  new  and 
old;  his  life  is  among  them;  he  knows  the 
value  of  clothes. 

Who  knows  about  varnish  ?  Your  archi- 
tect, or  carriage -maker  or  house -painter? 
That  depends. 

They  know  something  about  it  from  their 
standpoint,  but  that  is  not  always  your  stand- 
point. 

We  want  you  to  have  the  best*  possible 
results  with  everything  you  buy  that  has 
varnish  on. 

Our  "People's  Text-Book"  will  help  you. 
Write  for  it. 

Murphy  Varnish  Co. 

FRANKLIN    MURPHY,   President. 

Head  Office  :    Newark,  N.  J. 

Other  Offices :    Boston,  Cleveland,  St.  Louis  and  Chicago. 

Factories :    Newark  and  Chicago. 


For  trusty  steed,   which  carries  you 
O'er  ranch  or  race-course,  park  or  wood, 
'Tis  well  to  have  and  carry  too 
A  remedy  surpassing  good. 


And  when  the  cruel  spur's  deep  cut 
Or  galling  girth  his  sides  may  chafe. 
Or  woodland  brier  or  wagon  rut 
May  cause  a  scratch  or  strain  unsafe, 


Then,  before  ointment,  oil  or  salve, 
Which  have  a  use  within  their  scope, 
To  cleanse  the  injured  part  you  have 
A  soothing  wash  with  Ivory  Soap. 


Copyright,  1892,  by  Thk  Proctkr  &  Gamble  Co. 


The  most  liberal  accident  policy  in  existence. 
Assets  and  size  which  guarantee  ability  to  pay. 

An    unbroken    record    for   readiness   to   pay 
just  claims. 

The   best   accident  insurance  at 
reasonable  rates. 

Make  No  Mistake. 

You  are  sure  of  all  these  only 
with  the  oldest  mutual  acci- 
dent association,  the  largest 
accident  company  in  the  world. 


The  United  States 
Mutual  Accident  Association, 

320,  322  &  324  Broadway,  New  =  York. 
CHARLES  B.  PEET,  JAMES  R.  PITCHER, 

President.  Qen'l  Manager. 


THE  DE  VINNE    PRESS. 


GUARANTEED    TO     « 
WEAR  A  LIFETIME /<< 


THC   SPCCIALTy  OF  THE 

OLD  BLEACH 


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NEN  CO., 


l*^^y-  ^^RANDALSTOWN, 
'    '^  IRELAND.       ^ 


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V^-^X  """OLD  BLEACH"--  ^'^'^tf,\ 


ON    ALL   GOODS    MADE    MY 
THIS  COMPANY. 


ALL    FIRST-CLASS    RETAILERS. 


</. 


WHOLESALE    BRANCH 


%>         CEORCE   RICC8, 

*99  FRANKLIN  ST.,  New  YORK. 


THEY 

Both  Declare 

THE 


PIANOS 

Fifty-three  years  before  the  public, 

upon  their  excellence  alone 

have  attained  an 

Unpurchased  I^re-eniinenee. 


VON  BULOW  -  D'ALBERT. 

KNABE 


THE 

Best  Pianos 

in  America. 


EUGEN  D' ALBERT. 

From  fullest  convic- 
tion I  declare  tAe  Knabe 
Pianos  to  he  the  best 
instruments  of  America. 


VON  BUI-OW. 

The  sound  and  touch 
of  the  Knabe  Pianos  are 
more  sympathetic  to  my 
ears  and  hands  than  all 
others  of  the  country. 

WAREROOMS  : 

Baltimore,  New-York, 

SS  &  24  E.  Baltimore  St.  148  Fifth  Avenue. 

Washington,  No.  817  Pennsylvania  Ave. 

Chicagro:  I.TON  &  HEAI.Y,  Sole  Agents, 

State  and  nionroe  Streets. 


POWDER 

Absolutely  Pure. 

A  cream  of  tartar  baking  powder.  Highest  of  all 
in  leavening  strength. — Latest  I'.  S.  Gm'emment 
Food  Report. 

ROYAL    BAKING    POWDER    CO. 

106  Wall  Street,  New-Tork. 


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