{"numero_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1915-10-21-01", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1915-10-21_01", "ocr_sha256": "2ab87386bd035df00193080222d077e16a1f5bdb8cd88931f9d8c9023a83920f", "source_tei": "https://github.com/Princeton-CDH/bluemountain-transcriptions/blob/main/periodicals/bmtnaaq/issues/1915/10/21_01/bmtnaaq_1915-10-21_01.tei.xml", "source_mets": "https://github.com/pulibrary/BlueMountain/blob/main/metadata/periodicals/bmtnaaq/issues/1915/10/21_01/bmtnaaq_1915-10-21_01.mets.xml", "url_numero": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01", "articles": [{"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1915-10-21-01-c002", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1915-10-21_01#c002", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1915-10-21_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "[135]", "page_fin": "[135]", "image_debut": 2, "image_fin": 2, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.2.2", "titre_corps": "For Two Voices", "titre_sommaire": "For Two Voices", "signature_source": "Maurice Hewlett", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 2, "page_imprimee": "[135]", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.2", "debut_caractere": 140, "fin_caractere_exclue": 773, "texte": "For Two Voices\nMaurice Hewlett\nMOTHER, mother, isn't it fun,\nThe soldiers marching past in the sun!\"\n\"Child, child, what are you saying112\nCome to church. We should be praying\"\n\"Look, mother, at their bright spears!\"\n\"The leaves are falling like women*s tears.\"\n\"You are not looking at what I see.\"\n\"Nay, but I look at what must be,\"\n\"Hark to the pipes! See the flags flying!\"\n\"I hear the sound of a girl crying\"\n\"How many hundreds before they are done!\"\n\"How many mothers wanting a son!\"\n\"Here rides the general pacing slow!'\n\"Well he may, if he knows what I know\"\n\"O, this war, what a glorious game\"\n\"Sin and shame, sin and shame.\""}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1915-10-21-01-c003", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1915-10-21_01#c003", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1915-10-21_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "[135]", "page_fin": "136", "image_debut": 2, "image_fin": 3, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.2.3", "titre_corps": "The Peace Was Broken", "titre_sommaire": "The Peace Was Broken", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 2, "page_imprimee": "[135]", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.2", "debut_caractere": 775, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1631, "texte": "The Peace Was Broken\n\"TTHERE is not a lovelier place in the city than Washington\nSquare. It carries the touch' of intimacy that makes\ndear the boudoir of our beloved one. It has the dignity of a\nchurch and the friendliness of the inn-keeper who values us as\ngladly sheltered guests. The little Italian bootblack was shining\nmy shoes. The grass was yellowish green scattered with red\nleaves. A merciful wind had tenderly cut the last threads\nwith which they had hung lifeless to the branches. Sober\nlooking men and women in Sunday attire passed on their way\nto churches and children annoyed happily their governesses\nthat were chatting and scolding. A pitiful figure reclined on\na nearby bench. An old woman. Her clothes were ragged.\nThe toes practically sticking out of her torn shoes. A funny\nthing that she wore as a hat was tied under her chin. A little"}, {"page_pdf": 3, "page_imprimee": "136", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.3", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1869, "texte": "package held together with heavy cord had rolled from her lap\nto the ground. She was asleep. Her hands were clasped as in\nprayer. She might have been under the influence of liquor, but\nmaybe she was only exhausted.\nThe bench did not object to her taking a rest. A dead\nleaf had chosen her shoulder as a resting-place. Everybody\nwho passed her showed pity in his eyes. Who would not pity\na woman? An old woman. A ragged woman, sleeping on a\nbench on a morning. On a Sunday morning. A woman that\nmight have been your mother or my own. A woman .\na fellow-being ... a fellow-sufferer.\nYes, there was one who objected that this poor creature\nhad found rest for a minute after the weary travels of a\nhomeless night. One who saw in her a disgrace to the quiet\nsurroundings of a Park that had accepted her, had caressed\nher, had lovingly watched her. There was one who looked\nwith the eyes of a delighted beast that discovers its prey at\nthis poor old creature. He stopped at a few yards distance.\nHe took in the sight like the lustful pervert looking at the\ninnocent young girl he is about to disgrace. The second he\nsaw her he knew that the peace of this being must be dis-\nturbed. No rest for her. She must move on. Did he step\nnear her, did he touch her shoulder gently, did he give her a\nchance to awaken, to open her eyes, and did he tell her in\na sympathetic voice: \"It is not allowed to sit in this park,\nmother. I am sorry that I have to disturb you; let me guide\nyou to a place that is prepared for such weary travellers as\nyou are, where you will find peace and relief ?\" Oh, no!\nNoiselessly he approached her so that he might not awaken\nher and spoil the pleasure of his profession. With his big\nheavy well-clothed foot, the brute stepped on her feet. She\nscreamed. She looked wildly around. He jerked her up.\nAnd the peace of the square was broken."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1915-10-21-01-c004", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1915-10-21_01#c004", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1915-10-21_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "136", "page_fin": "137", "image_debut": 3, "image_fin": 4, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.2.4", "titre_corps": "The President for Woman Suffrage", "titre_sommaire": "The President for Woman Suffrage", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 3, "page_imprimee": "136", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.3", "debut_caractere": 1871, "fin_caractere_exclue": 3025, "texte": "The President for Woman Suffrage\nJ>RESIDENT WILSON'S vote for woman suffrage is not so\nimportant as some people would make it out to be, yet it\nhas a certain importance for all that. The President is both a\ndreamer, so-called, and a practical man. His example, therefore,\nwill strengthen the conviction of men of either of those predilec-\ntions. I doubt if it will \"make\" many votes for woman suffrage.\nThat is a question which men do not take sides upon because\nof the distinction of its supporters or opponents. President\nWilson will \"make\" no more votes for the cause than did ex-\nPresident Roosevelt. Most male supporters of woman suffrage\nare for it because they think it a logical extension of the demo-\ncratic principle and that is probably President Wilson's reason-\ning on the subject. Where his example will have weight will be\nin the method of establishing woman suffrage. He says that\nit must come by State rather than National action, and, constitu-\ntionally, he is right. His action will tend to put an end to the\nagitation for a national admission of women to the ballot. Of\ncourse, as he is the head of his party, his vote is important as"}, {"page_pdf": 4, "page_imprimee": "137", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.4", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2042, "texte": "indicating that he sees nothing in his party's principles opposed\nto votes for women. It does not, however, commit his party.\nHe voted as an individual, not as head either of the Government\nor of the party. For this reason the Democratic forces in the\ncities, opposed to woman suffrage, cannot object to his action\nas committing the party to the cause. The anti-prohibitionist\nDemocrats will not like his action, of course, because they think\nthe woman vote will be always and everywhere an anti-liquor\nvote, but the President himself is not a Prohibitionist like Mr.\nBryan. It is doubtful if many admirers of the President will\nbe swung over to the suffrage movement because he has taken\nit up. What his vote will do is that it will make people think\nthe question over for themselves when they find that a thinker\nsnch as he is known to be has reached the affirmative conclusion.\nSpeaking generally, the President's vote shows more that popular\nopinion has moved him than that he will move it. He helps\nthe movement, I should say, just because his vote has weight\non account of his being a good judge of the popular sentiment,\nwhereas Mr. Taft's opposition is unimportant because he is\nsuch a poor judge of the popular feeling upon anything. No\none, however, plumps either way on a question like woman suf-\nfrage because any one man, however distinguished, is on one\nside or the other. The suffrage movement is influencing Presi-\ndents and ex-Presidents more than they are influencing the suf-\nfrage movement. It cannot be stopped. Women, as intelligent\nmoral beings, are entitled to the ballot whether it be a right or a\nprivilege. If it be a right, it is theirs. If it be a privilege, they\nhave earned it as a class as fully as men have ever earned it\nSo thinks Woodrow Wilson, citizen. As President, he says that\nthe ballot must come through the individual States. His ex-\nample should concentrate woman suffrage effort upon the States\nand put an end to \"hikes\" to Washington.\nWilliam Marion Ready in his Mirror, St. Louis"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1915-10-21-01-c005", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1915-10-21_01#c005", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1915-10-21_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "137", "page_fin": "138", "image_debut": 4, "image_fin": 5, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.2.5", "titre_corps": "Thursday, Friday and Saturday in Charles Edison's Little Thimble Theatre", "titre_sommaire": "Thursday, Friday and Saturday in Charles Edison's Little Thimble Theatre", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 4, "page_imprimee": "137", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.4", "debut_caractere": 2044, "fin_caractere_exclue": 3022, "texte": "Thursday, Friday and Saturday in Char-\nles Edison's Little Thimble Theatre\nJUST to make it clear once more: Mr. Charles Edison's\nLittle Thimble Theatre has no other purpose but to give\nyoung American musicians, composers, poets and playwrights\na hearing. To act as a free forum accessible to everybody who\nhas done something that he considers worth while and to give\nhim a chance to be heard by an unprejudiced audience.\nJudging from Mr. Edison's mail of the last weeks, a good\nmany people seem to be under the impression that the Thimble\nTheatre is a kind of philanthropic institution for musicians and\nsingers out of employment, others mistake it for a concert hall\nwhere artists of fame will be heard. The mere fact that one\nhas a known name, that one has a pocketful of newspaper clip-\npings or has sung or played before European princes and mem-\nbers of royal families and has received medals and crosses of\nhonor, bars him from an appearance in the Little Thimble\nTheatre."}, {"page_pdf": 5, "page_imprimee": "138", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.5", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2148, "texte": "It is just the American who works and toils honestly in this\ncountry and has not had, for some reason or another, a chance\nto be rejected or accepted by an American public, that Mr.\nEdison is interested in.\nWe live in an age of recognition. The tragedy of a Poe\ncould hardly be repeated to-day. The good work done will\nultimately gain recognition and it is solely up to the man him-\nself to create for himself the right circle of activities. America\nneeds good music, good poems, good books. While the writer\nhas it comparatively easy to persuade a publisher to see the\nmerits of his works, the musician is handicapped by that supreme\nillusion which has taken hold of all impresarios and producers\nof plays: that America has no music and that the American\nhas to look for real good stuff to Mother Europe. But the\nworst of it is they don't want even to lend themselves to an\nexperiment. They are afraid of everything that hasn't got\nthe European label.\nIt would be megalomania to assume that the activities of the\nLittle Thimble Theatre, even if successful beyond expectation,\ncould change this condition. But the little snowball kicked off\nincidentally from the high mountain grows to be a big avalanche.\nAnd if the larger public cannot be reached and the composer\nor musician derives no other benefit but to play in public, his\nself-confidence is being strengthened and he returns home filled\nwith new ambitions, and plunges into his work with new\nvigor.\nMr. Edison invites every American rnusician, composer or\nsinger to take advantage of his Little Thimble Theatre. Serious\nefforts will find serious consideration.\n\"Proverbs in Porcelain,\" by Austin Dobson, were so en-\nthusiastically received that in addition to the two playlets given\nlast week, two more of the same group will be played on\nThursday, Friday and Saturday. The musical program com-\nprises a selection of American music, some of the composers\nnever heard before in New York .\nAll those who are interested kindly write or call personally\nfor program or tickets. They are free of charge. Address,\nCharles Edison's Little Thimble Theatre, 10 Fifth Avenue,\nNew York."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1915-10-21-01-c006", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1915-10-21_01#c006", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1915-10-21_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "138", "page_fin": "139", "image_debut": 5, "image_fin": 6, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.2.6", "titre_corps": "Children's Hour on the Square", "titre_sommaire": "Children's Hour on the Square", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 5, "page_imprimee": "138", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.5", "debut_caractere": 2150, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2824, "texte": "Children's Hour on the Square\nnot come down once and see with your own eyes, on a\nsunny afternoon? Just after school is over, after the\nchildren have piled their books in pyramids around the fountain\nright back of the arch, on Washington Square, the \"teachers'*\nlining them up in lines and rings, the music starts a march or\na waltz .... They all forget the petty worries of their young\nlives, and they are just young and merry.\nCrowds are attracted. People step nearer, drivers interrupt\ntheir journey, get up on their seats, their hard-set, weather-\nbeaten faces undergo a wonderful change. They smile, they\nactually smile and their unshaven features lose of their coarse-"}, {"page_pdf": 6, "page_imprimee": "139", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.6", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2850, "texte": "ness and they don't seem apart from all the other humanity\nbecause of the heavy rough labor which has hardened the best\nthey had: their ability to smile.\nYou must watch the men on the benches in our parks some\nday, you must 100k—not only mechanically glance at them—\nat their faces. They seldom smile. Smiling is the expression\nof peace with oneself, of gladness one finds in oneself. It is so\nvastly different from laughing.\nHow do they smile at the Square, looking at chil-\ndren in their joyful exercise! There is a watering station of\nthe Society for the Preventation of Cruelty to Animals on\nthe other side of the fountain. Hundreds of horses hitched\nto heavy loads, stop there for a few minutes of well-earned rest\nand for a draught of water. The drivers in the meantime\nsmoke a pipe or roll a cigarette. They chat with the men\non the benches. Who are these men on the benches? They\nare another mystery so often explored and still as mysterious\nas a hundred years ago. In the old New York Advertiser for\n1815, we find a lengthy paragraph about the on\nNew York park benches. They are still there. They sit quietly\nin the sun or shiver contentedly in the cold of our autumn\nmornings. They read newspapers picked up in waste paper cans\nor handed to them by the conductors of the auto busses, left\non the seats by passengers. They talk only rarely. They are the\nquiet philosophers of our Square. They sit often for hours\nstaring up at the skies or looking down to the ground, following\nwith quick eyes the steps of passersby. The drivers in the\nafternoon are the only distraction in their sordid life. They\nare the event of the day for the bench-dweller. They have\ncigarettes or tobacco for a pipe, they have a lunch pail with\noften more in it than they can eat themselves and most\nlikely they won't mind to act as bankers to their friends in\nthe park, if their transaction of loans be kept inside of the\ncopper currency.\nAnd they all step nearer to the big circle around the children\nof the Children's Hour on Washington Square, their looks\ngrow more and more interested the longer they observe the\nchildren. They are departing with that certain smile on their\nfaces. And while they return to their benches or to their\ndriver's seats, or continue their journey of the day, they con-\ntinue to be under the spell of that Children's Hour. They\nthink of things so remote to their present lives. Many of\nthem had here the first chance to see children at play for a\nlong, long time, and if once old memories are revived, and\nthe mind taken away from the crude world of today . . . .\nwell .... they smile.\nThe Diamond Disc on Washington Square. Just a few\nbars of music diffuse in the air. They do real good—these\nChildren's Hours on Washington Square. They also do good\nfor grown-up children on the benches, the step-children of our\ncity."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1915-10-21-01-c007", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1915-10-21_01#c007", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1915-10-21_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "140", "page_fin": "140", "image_debut": 7, "image_fin": 7, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.2.7", "titre_corps": "Milligan Place", "titre_sommaire": "Milligan Place", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 7, "page_imprimee": "140", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.7", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 30, "texte": "Milligan Place"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1915-10-21-01-c008", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1915-10-21_01#c008", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1915-10-21_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "140", "page_fin": "141", "image_debut": 7, "image_fin": 8, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.2.8", "titre_corps": "Passing Paris", "titre_sommaire": "Passing Paris", "signature_source": "Muriel Ciolkowska", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 7, "page_imprimee": "140", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.7", "debut_caractere": 32, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1093, "texte": "Passing Paris\n\nParis, October Ist, 1915.\nCharles Grolleau, whose poetry appears for the first\ntime in England in the October issue of \"The Egoist,\"\nhas on several occasions been the medium of English literature\nin France. His translation of Blake's Marriage of Heaven\nand Hell necessarily figures among literary tours de force\nand curiosities, and Oscar Wilde has found in him his most\nsensitive interpreter, one of the few who is not an Iscariot!\nFor M. Grolleau belongs to that group of French erudites in\nEnglish letters comprising M. Augustin Filon, M. Joseph\nAynard, M. Theodore de Wyzewa, M. Edmond Pilon, M.\nHenry Davray, M. Jacques Copeau, &c., and among whom\nthe recent death of M. Robert d'Humieres has brought about\na most regrettable fissure.\nM. Grolleau is not introduced here as the representative of\nany form of secessionistic departure, but as a poet of culture\nand spirituality. The immaterialism of his conceptions is such\nas often to escape the mental grasp of the reader, who is\nfrequently called upon to strain the spheres in which his mind"}, {"page_pdf": 8, "page_imprimee": "141", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.8", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1899, "texte": "more usually evolves to reach within touch of the distant and\nunworldly domain of M. Grolleau's thought-vision. One often\nfeels he leaves one far behind him. Like the late Charles\nPeguy and Andre Lafon, Charles Grolleau is a fervent Roman\nCatholic. As was the first of these he is a convert; unlike the\nsecond, rare poet though he was, he is also a mysti©. Andre\nLafon was a worshipper after the order of Francis Jammes.\nM. Grolleau's religion is more intellectual and transcends\nbeyond the limited perpetual adoration of creation. His poems\nveil rather than define revelations of the most intimate char-\nacter and of whose abstractions verbal expression can generally\noffer but the enigma, and seldom the key.\nPerceiving and creating—and are not perceptions and crea-\ntions if not identical allied?—an independent sphere as this\npoet does he is, therefore, and independent in the most essential\nand elevated sense. By his side how small appear those who\nattain freedom merely through revolt instead of initiation and\nhow these may envy him the unison he naturally achieves\nbetween forms so strict and inspirations so vast and intangible.\nTo attempt to give it further, that is second-hand, precision\nmight amount to the profanation by an indiscreet and irreverent\ntrespasser of a secret chapel.\nM. Jacques Copeau has translated, and published with the\nNouvelle Revue Francaise, Mr. Clutton-Brock's observations\non the war.\nIt is strange to see M. Henri Albert, the translator of\nNietzsche's complete works, give the popular and erroneous\nrendering of the German word \"ehrenvoll\" in the last number\nof the Mercure, and which misconstruction has led the world\nto imagine that Germany was aspiring to a merely \"honourable\"\npeace, instead of the \"peace full of honour\" to which it con-\nsiders itself entitled in reality.\nExtract from a Letter to\"The Egoist,\" London.\n\nMuriel Ciolkowska."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1915-10-21-01-c009", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1915-10-21_01#c009", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1915-10-21_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "141", "page_fin": "142", "image_debut": 8, "image_fin": 9, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.2.9", "titre_corps": "International Magazines in Germany", "titre_sommaire": "International Magazines in Germany", "signature_source": "Alec W. G. Randall", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 8, "page_imprimee": "141", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.8", "debut_caractere": 1901, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2822, "texte": "International Magazines in Germany\n\nTHOSE who believe that Art, like Religion, should be inter-\nnational, will be glad to know that certain periodicals\nand certain groups of young artists in Germany and Austria\nhave steadily refused to submerge themselves in the welter of\nchauvinism which seems to have covered the Central Empires\n—and not those alone. The older generation of writers and\nartists seems at least to have acquiesced in a large measure;\nRichard Dehmel is apparently writing one war poem per day;\nRichard Strauss intends out-Wagnering Wagner in a grand\nnew Kaisermarsch. But even among the established writers,,\nthe classics, so to speak, there are remarkable exceptions;\nArthur Schnitzler has appealed to reason against Lissauer's\nHymn of Hate, and Stefan Georg's periodical, Blatter fur die\nKunst has resolved on a noble indifference to the European\nmadness. Other periodicals adopting this policy are Die"}, {"page_pdf": 9, "page_imprimee": "142", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.9", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1463, "texte": "Weissen Blatter and Der Sturm. The first is a paper run by\nyoung artists and poets; the second is more distinctively an\nadvanced art periodical, though its literary contents are by no\nmeans insignificant. Most people are familiar with its Cubist\nor Futurist front page. It corresponds, I suppose, to the\nEgoist in London and Les Soirees de Paris in Paris., Artists\nlike Kandinsky and Severini have contributed to it; Guillaume\nApollinaire has written criticism for it; Rene Schickele, one\nof the best known of the younger poets of Germany, has pub-\nlished several poems in Der Sturm. Here is one of them—a\nlittle model of simplicity and for that reason hard to render.\nPraise of My Lover (Lobspruch)\nHow shall I know\nWhether it is you\nI love most?\nAnd yet I am sure\nIt is you\nWho gives me most joy.\nGladness comes\nFrom pure strength;\nIt is kindled in my very blood.\nThen what maturity you have—\nYour skin, your hair,\nThe very sound of your step.\nThe next poem is from a less-known poet, Paul Bom-\nmersheim:\nPoem\nThe fog draws closer and closer,\nIts walls grow and overshadow the world'.\nHeavily,\nAnd the armies of it creep up nearer and nearer.\nThe last grey branches fall and disappear;\nThe world sinks slowly away from us,\nLeaf . . . by . . . leaf.\nAnd now we are alone—in solitary space.\nThis is the hour of the great discovery.\nWe come closer and closer together,\nAnd we hold one another by fiery hands,\nGlowing like stars.\n\nAlec W. G. Randall"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1915-10-21-01-c010", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1915-10-21_01#c010", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1915-10-21_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "142", "page_fin": "144", "image_debut": 9, "image_fin": 11, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.2.10", "titre_corps": "In Our Village", "titre_sommaire": "In Our Village", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 9, "page_imprimee": "142", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.9", "debut_caractere": 1465, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2095, "texte": "In Our Village\nDjuna's Exhibit\nOn August 23rd, thirty-four drawings and pastels by Djuna\nBarnes will be tacked to the walls of Bruno's Garret for four-\nteen days. Especially her war impressions, the impersonations\nof the tools of war in a weird, terrific way, are a new venture\nin the grotesque. Djuna Barnes is one of the few young\nAmerican artists who walk their own way. Not willing to\nmake concessions to publishers and art editors, she is using\nher pen to earn her livlihood as a newspaper woman, and\npermits herself the luxury of being an artist just to please\nherself. Frequently she has been called the American Beardsley,"}, {"page_pdf": 10, "page_imprimee": "143", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.10", "debut_caractere": 40, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1029, "texte": "not because she is trying to imitate the father of our \"black\nand white art,\" but because she is doing original work as well\nas he did. It is just a question of time, until she will \"put it\nover\" and we will see her work spread through to our popular\nillustrated publications.\nHer exhibition is a very representative one.\nOn Saturday afternoon at three o'clock, will be a poetry\nreading and everybody is a welcome visitor.\nEvery Monday evening at eight o'clock, an informal gathering\nof all kinds of specimens of the genus homo.\nThe Clara Tice evening on last Monday, proved very inter-\nesting. It was a gathering of people who had mostly not met\nbefore, but who did not hesitate to voice their opinions and\ntheir impressions of Clara Tice's work.\nA FREE school in the real sense of the word, as dreamed\nof a quarter of a century ago by that martyr for libertarian\neducation Francisco Ferrer, is the newest addition to the many\ninstitutions in our village of the new season. Ferrer's ideal"}, {"page_pdf": 11, "page_imprimee": "144", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.11", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 3452, "texte": "of a school was a free exchange of answers for questions.\nAfter he rented suitable quarters he wanted to hang out his\nshingle, \"Here is a School.\" Anybody could stroll in, sit down,\nlisten, ask questions and come again if he was interested\nenough and wished to, or stay away if that was not the sort\nof thing after his liking.\nIn the old Benedick, that quaint bachelor apartment house\non the east side of the Square, which sheltered some of our\nmost famous men of letters and art, Mr. Anton Hellmann\nwill keep open house every Friday afternoon at 4.30, for all\nthose who are interested in his work. He is an interior\ndecorator to the people. \"Harmony of color, expression of\nthe inhabitant's individuality can be kept inside the purse limit\nof everybody,\" is the contention of Mr. Hellmann. In twenty\ntalks spread over the twenty weeks of the coming season,\nhe will show in his studio how his theories can be put into\npractice—by everybody. The first series of these informal\ngatherings on Friday afternoons will unroll before ears\nof the listeners a history of domestic architecture. Fallon\nwhose work has proved that he is able to talk vividly to\nothers what he demonstrates through his work every day, will\ngive these talks and be ready to answer any questions put\nbefore him. He also will speak about the interior detail\nof an ideal home.\nMr. Hellmann will gladly answer any communications from\nthose interested.\nPark & Tilford's Birthplace\nGreenwich Village, the Birth-place of Park & Tilford's Establisnment\nJust three-quarters of a century ago to-d'ay two young men opened\nthe doors of a small sized grocery store on Carmine Street, in the\nold Ninth ward. To-day, after seventy-five years, during which\nNew York City has spread itself over Manhattan Island and beyond\nthe Harlem and East Rivers, a thousand employees of the firm of\nPark & Tilford go about the firm's business in ten stores and sev-\neral factories\nThe two young members of the firm of Park & Tilford were wise\nin their selection of a site for their enterprise, for Carmine Street in\nlower Greenwich Village was then the most aristocratic section of\nNew York. To get to Harlem was a long and tiresome journey. It\nwas a bold venture indeed for the two ambitious young men to locate\ntheir store in so wealthy a district, for between them they had only\n$300. But somehow they bought a modest stock of staples that\nsatisfied the comparatively simple demands of their customers. Break-\nfast foods were unheard of then and canned goods still in the distant\nfuture. , „ . • , i\nJoseph Park and John M. Tilford at first sold the goods them-\nselves over the counter. The problem of delivering them was not\npressing, for usually the housewives came equipped with huge baskets,\nand they shopped until the baskets were full. The more fortunate\nwomen came to the store in company with a black iootman who did\nthe \"toting,\" and these housewives were considerably aristocratic.\nThe business of selling groceries to Greenwich Village prospered\nand as the stock expanded it outgrew the little Carmine Street store.\nThe city too was growing and Park & Tilford followed their customers\nnorthward and located at Ninth Street and Sixth It was\nhere that wagon deliveries began, for the store was beginning to\nsupply a greater area. Every year brought new articles of food to\nsatisfy the palates of New Yorkers and_ the sale of this new class\nof groceries was profitable.—New York Times."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1915-10-21-01-c011", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1915-10-21_01#c011", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1915-10-21_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "143", "page_fin": "143", "image_debut": 10, "image_fin": 10, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.2.11", "titre_corps": "Djuna Barnes, by Terry", "titre_sommaire": "Djuna Barnes, by Terry", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 10, "page_imprimee": "143", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.10", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 38, "texte": "Djuna Barnes, by Terry"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1915-10-21-01-c012", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1915-10-21_01#c012", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1915-10-21_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "145", "page_fin": "146", "image_debut": 12, "image_fin": 13, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.2.12", "titre_corps": "Books and Magazines of the Week", "titre_sommaire": "Books and Magazines of the Week", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 12, "page_imprimee": "145", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.12", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2841, "texte": "Books and Magazines of the Week\nMy Childhood\nHis real name is Aleksyei Maksimovitch Pyeshkof, but he\ncalled himself Gorki, \"The Bitter One.\" And surely full of\nbitterness against the world in which he had to live should the\nchildhood have turned him which he pictures in the reminiscences\njust published by The Century Company. The disgusting details\nof the everyday life of a struggling, low Russian family lose\ntheir disagreeable features in the pen of Gorki. The impartial\nway with which he paints things often otherwise unspeakable\nbring the great painter of Russian life as it is nearer to us and\ndearer to our hearts.\nAnd just now, at the time of revival of Russian letters in\nEngland and America and especially where through new, popular\neditions, Gorki is made accessible to the greater masses we\ncannot but think with regretful sorrow of the days of his pres-\nence in our midst, of the chauvinism with which we treated the\ngreat writer of real life during his stay in America. He who\ngives pleasure to millions today offered in vain his hand for the\nhearty grip of friendship. How must this man, with a youth\nwhich reveals his childhood to us have felt our narrowness!\nDreams and Dust\nDon Marquis has collected some of his most important poems\ninto a volume. The book reviewer of the Evening Sun does\nnot state whether it is published or will be published, and also\nthe name of the publisher is not given.\nOf course, everybody knows Don Marquis. His \"Sun Dial\"\nin the Evening Sun is the one permanent bright feature among\nthe often too sordid columns of our newspapers. He is the\nromancier among the chaos of business and crime and tragedy.\nHe is the humorist among the professional relaters of the history\nof our day and among the bad or worse attempts to be edu-\ncational. His column is a source of pleasure and merriment\nto the thousands who are his daily readers. He is satyrical, he\ndoesn't hesitate to make fun of a thing, to make it ridiculous,\ncrushingly ridiculous. But he does it with the rare gift of a\nphilosopher and an artist. He never offends and his satire is not\nstinging.\nAmerican newspapers do not know criticism and fueilleton.\nAn impartial review of things concerning literature, art and\nmusic is about the most that can be in its pages devoted\nto these departments. The voice of the individual is submerged\nin a set pattern, presented for some reason or another by our\nnewspapers to their readers. Don Marquis' column is about\nthe only individualistic expression that can be found in the news-\npapers of America. Another poet before him gave his best\nto the people, really to the people. It was Eugene Field who\nwrote the best of his verse, those lines which make him immortal,\nin the column of a penny newspaper which he conducted.\nGreat is the mission of a man who brings rhythm, joy of life,"}, {"page_pdf": 13, "page_imprimee": "146", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.13", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1757, "texte": "romance and the merry word that will make smile the thousands\nthat buy a penny paper.\nKreymborg's Others\nThe October number of \"Others,\" the magazine of new\nverse, edited by Alfred Kreymborg, contains poems of the\nchoric school. In the preface Mr. Ezra Pound relates how he\nattended a poetry reading somewhere in England where Miss\nDillon, one of the choric school poets, \"came in at the end of\nthe hall and danced out their own poems. I then understood\nthe curious breaks and pauses, the elaborate system of dots\nand dashes with which this new group is wont to adorn its\nverses. Here is the motto John Rodker, another choric poet,\nchose for his \"The Dutch Dolls:\"\n\"Hi, Hi, Hi ... . \"■—Verlaine\nThe Poets' Translation Series\nNumber 2 of the Poets' Translation Series, published at first\nin the Egoist, in London, and simultaneously in pamphlet form\nhas just reached our shore. They are poems and fragments\nof Sappho, translated by Edward Storer. Sappho was born on\nthe island of Lesbos about 600 B. C. At some period of her life\nshe was exiled from Lesbos. The tragedy and beauty of her\nlife reveals itself to us in her poems. She is a woman of\nardent nature, noble, delicate-minded and fond of pleasure. Her\npoems were chiefly love poems and that they were written chiefly\nto women is clear, even from the mutilated fragments which\nremain.\nAmerican Bookplate Society\nThe American Bookplate Society announces the early publi-\ncation of its first year book, which will contain in addition to\nconventional year book material an authentic check list of Mr.\nSidney L. Smith's bookplates together with original impressions\nof five copper plates of his workmanship. The edition is limited\nto two hundred and ten copies, for members of the society."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1915-10-21-01-c013", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1915-10-21_01#c013", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1915-10-21_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "146", "page_fin": "147", "image_debut": 13, "image_fin": 14, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.2.13", "titre_corps": "Dogs' Tails", "titre_sommaire": "Dogs' Tails", "signature_source": "D. Molby", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 13, "page_imprimee": "146", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.13", "debut_caractere": 1759, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2594, "texte": "Dogs' Tails\nBy D. Molby.\n*J*HERE is only one purpose to a dog's tail and that is to\nexpress his emotions and feelings. The longer his tail\nis the better can he do it. And when he is in nervous excite-\nment as when he is looking for something, he needs some way\nof releasing his tension through movement. His tail is good\nfor this and doesn't interfere with anything.\nWhen he is real pleased at seeing someone, he wants the\nperson to know it. And his actions speak—not louder, but\ntruer than words. There is no pretense about him and if\nhe wants to show his contempt he is just as frank to do it.\nHe does not move his tail in a particular way because he\nhas a particular emotion, but has an emotion according to\nthe way he moves his tail. If he wants to feel happy, he wags\nit, and this has a return effect upon his mind, because he can"}, {"page_pdf": 14, "page_imprimee": "147", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.14", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 424, "texte": "see that someone knows he is happy and he can feel that his\ntail is wagging.\nThe dogs have always known that their tails were for some\nuse and they moved them around in different ways until they\nfound out what different effects could be obtained. If they\nhad let them hang still they would have disappeared long ago\nand the dog of to-day would not hold anything like the place\nin the world that he now holds."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1915-10-21-01-c014", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1915-10-21_01#c014", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1915-10-21_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "147", "page_fin": "147", "image_debut": 14, "image_fin": 14, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.2.14", "titre_corps": "A NEW SONG OF SOLOMON", "titre_sommaire": "A NEW SONG OF SOLOMON", "signature_source": "Tom Sleeper", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 14, "page_imprimee": "147", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.14", "debut_caractere": 426, "fin_caractere_exclue": 909, "texte": "A NEW SONG OF SOLOMON\nTom Sleeper\nTHY voice is like thewind in the cedars\nOh my love.\nAnd thine eyes shine like opals, wet with the dew of deep\nsummer.\nThy breath is as the perfume of the lilies nodding in the\nstill pool\nOh my Love, my only Love.\nThy heart is a lone fire burning in the wilderness—\nOh my Love.\nIt exalteth my soul with warmth\nIn the twilight of the murmuring evening\nAnd thy hair is more beautiful than the\nDarkness enwrapping the wan stars\nOh my Love, my only Love."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1915-10-21-01-c015", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1915-10-21_01#c015", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1915-10-21_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "147", "page_fin": "148", "image_debut": 14, "image_fin": 15, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.2.15", "titre_corps": "The Sous-Prefet Afield", "titre_sommaire": "The Sous-Prefet Afield", "signature_source": "Alphonse Daudet", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 14, "page_imprimee": "147", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.14", "debut_caractere": 911, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2262, "texte": "The Sous-Prefet Afield\nBy Alphonse Daudet.\nJMfONSIEUR the sous-Prefet is on his rounds. With coach-\nman before! and lackey behind, the barouche of the sous-\nPrefecture carries him majestically to the agricultural fair of\nthe Combe-aux- Fees. For that memorable day Monsieur the\nsous-Prefet has put on his best embroidered coat, his little\ncocked hat, his tight-fitting breeches with silver bands, and\nhis gala sword with hilt of mother-of-pearl. Upon his lap lies\na great portfolio of embossed shagreen, upon which he gazes\nsadly.\nMonsieur the sous-Prefet gazes sadly on his portfolio of\nembossed shagreen; he is thinking of the famous speech which\nhe will have to make presently before the citizens of the Combe-\naux-Fees. But although he twists the blonde silk of his whiskers\nand repeats, twenty times over, \"Messieurs etchers administres,\"\nthe rest of the speech does not come.\nThe rest of the speech does not come. It is so hot in the\nbarouche! As far as the eye can reach, the road of the Combe-\nauz-Fees powders under the sun of the South. The air is\nscorching, and in the elms that border the road, all covered\nwith white dust, thousands of cicadas answer one another from\ntree to tree. Suddenly Monsieur the sous-Prefect gives a start.\nOver there, at the foot of a slope, he has just perceived a little\nwood of green oaks that beckons to him."}, {"page_pdf": 15, "page_imprimee": "148", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.15", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2453, "texte": "The little wood of green oaks seems to beckon to him.\n\"Come this way, Monsieur the sous-Prefet; to compose your\nspeech, you will be much more comfortable under my trees.\"\nMonsieur the sous-Prefet is tempted. He jumps from his\nbarouche, and tells his servants to wait for him; that he is going\nto compose his speech in the little wood of green oaks.\nIn the little wood of green oaks there are birds, violets, and\nsprings under the tender grass. As soon as they saw Monsieur\nthe sous-Prefet, with his fine breeches and his portfolio of\nembossed shagreen, the birds felt frightened and stopped sing-\ning, the springs no longer dared to make any noise, and the\nviolets hid themselves in the sward. That little world had\nnever seen a sous-Prefet, and asks itself, in low tones, who\nthat fine seigneur was who walked about in silver breeches.\nIn low tones, under the leafage, they ask themselves who\nthat fine seigneur is in silver breeches. Meanwhile Monsieur\nthe sous-Prefet, delighted with the silence and the coolness of\nthe wood, lifts his coat-tails, deposits his cocked hat on the\ngrass, and sits in the moss at the foot of a young oak. Then\nhe opens on his knees his great portfolio of embossed shagreen,\nand takes from it a large sheet of official foolscap.\n\"He is an artist,\" says a warbler.\n\"No,\" says a bullfinch, \"he is not an artist, since he wears\nsilver breeches; he is rather a prince.\"\n\"He is rather a prince,\" says the bullfinch.\n\"Neither an artist nor a prince,\" interrupts an old nightingale,\nwho has sung for a whole season in the gardens of the sous*\nprefecture; \"I know what he is; he is a sous-prefet.\"\nAnd all the little wood goes whispering:\n\"He is a sous-prefet! He is a sous-prefet I\"\n\"How bald he is!\" remarks a lark with a great tuft on his\nhead.\nThe violets ask:\n\"Is it dangerous?\"\n\"Is it dangerous?\" ask the violets.\nThe old nightingale answers:\n\"Not at all!\"\nAnd upon that assurance the birds recommence to sing, the\nsprings to run, the violets to shed their perfume, as though\nthe gentleman were not there. Unconscious amid all the merry\ndin, Monsieur the sous-Prefet invokes in his heart the Muse of\nagricultural fairs, and with lifted pencil begins to declaim in\nceremonial tones:\n\"Messieurs etchers administres—\"\nMessieurs etchers administressays the sous-Prefet, in cer-\nemonial tones.\nA burst of laughter interrupts him; he turns around and\nsees nothing but a fat woodpecker perched upon his cocked hat."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1915-10-21-01-c016", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1915-10-21_01#c016", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1915-10-21_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "149", "page_fin": "150", "image_debut": 16, "image_fin": 17, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.2.16", "titre_corps": "Richard Wagner—Egoist", "titre_sommaire": "Richard Wagner—Egoist", "signature_source": "Guido Bruno", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 16, "page_imprimee": "149", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.16", "debut_caractere": 44, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2758, "texte": "Richard Wagner—Egoist\nBy Guido Bruno\npiRTHDAYS in Germany are family holidays.\nChildren look forward to the anniversary of their arrival\non earth with a similiar, delightful anxiety as to Christmas\neve with its joys and surprises.\nThe German loves traditions and customs. What he saw\nin his father's house he most likely will practice in his own.\nHe will celebrate his father's or mother's birthday in his own\nhome perhaps hundreds of miles away or years after their\ndeparture from life. Gifts received on birthdays are the key\nto the ambitions and wishes of the recipient and to the attitude\nof the giver towards him.\nA few Christmas eves and a few birthdays tell the glory\nof Wagner's life.\nIt was several months after the death of his stepfather in\nthe modest home of his mother. Richard was nine years old\nand was to enter a regular school for the first time in his life.\nThe four oldest brothers and sisters had entered stage life and\nwere in other German cities.\nThere were under the Christmas tree the Christmas cake\nand apples and nuts and a new suit for Wagner. The\nmother knew what had worried her son when he had passed\nthe examination and was admitted to the school. All the\nother children had appeared in neat dresses with linen cuffs and\nlinen collars. He alone wore clothes his mother had made at\nhome.\nEighteen years later Wagner celebrated his birthday in simi-\nlarly poor surroundings. It was in Paris. The hopes for a\nbig success had long vanished and he and his young wife\nwere living in two, cheaply-furnished rooms. Trinkets and\npossessions were pawned and they called nothing their own\nbut what they wore.\nAfter nearly a year's residence in Paris the clothes Wagner\nhad brought with him from Germany were showing sad signs\nof wear. The year had been fruitless from a money point of\nview and his wardrobe had not been replenished. His senti-\ntiveness on this point was well known to his young wife,\nMinna. To give him pleasure she hunted through Paris until\nshe found a German tailor with a small business, who, swayed\nby her blandishments provided her with a suit of clothes for\nher husband. With tears in his eyes he used to relate the story\nof the birthday morning on the 22d of May, 1840. There was\na bunch of flowers in the water pitcher. There was a letter\nfrom his mother, arrived a few days previously, and kept for\nthis occasion by his thoughtful wife, there was some fruit—a\nluxury bought for this special occasion—and his wife's present,\n—the new suit.\nUps and downs followed in quick sequence in the life of\nthe struggling composer; fewer and fewer became the downs\nand more frequent the ups. 1857 found Wagner in London.\nThe Philharmonic Society had chosen him as the director of"}, {"page_pdf": 17, "page_imprimee": "150", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.17", "debut_caractere": 43, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2616, "texte": "the Symphony Concerts. He had to fight for his recognition,\nhe had unpleasant days and made life-long enemies. His wife\nhad not accompanied him on this trip. He celebrated his birth-\nday among the few friends he had won in the city on the\nThames. Minna's letter with congratulations had promptly\narrived. His room had been transformed into a flower garden\nby his friends and as happy as a child he left the house after\nbreakfast to buy his own birthday gifts.\nHe strolled down Regent street, examined the show win-\ndows and bought everything his heart desired. Silk for shirts\nand for underwear, several pairs of shoes, handkerchiefs\nand finally he went to a fashionable tailor and ordered a\nsuit. He ordered his pockets and the back of his vest to be\nmade of silk; likewise the lining of his frock coat sleeves; he\ncould not endure the touch of cotton as it produced a shudder-\ning sensation throughout his body that distressed him. The\ntailor was surprised. He explained that silk for the back of\nthe vest and lining for the sleeves was not at all necessary.\nEven the richest people never had silk linings; furthermore it\nwas not seen. The last observation brought Wagner to one of his\nindignant outbursts: \"Never seen I Yes, that's the tendency of\nthis country; sham, sham, in everything. That which is not\nseen may be paltry and mean provided only that the exterior\nbe richly gilded.\"\nOn his birthday he decided to wear the biretta as head gear,\nonce sanctioned by antiquity but very uncommon and not\nworn by anyone in his days.\nThe letter he wrote to his wife on the evening of this day\nsounded very happy, telling her about all the purchases he had\nmade, and mentioning repeatedly his happiness over the things\nhe had bought\nAgain years passed. Minna, who had shared the years of\nhunger, who had listened patiently to the dreams of her hus-\nband, was no more. The simple creature could not follow\nher husband after he had reached the goal of his ambitions.\nHis dreams had come true.\nBut there was no part in them for her. They had separated.\nShe had died and he had married again. It was on his fifty-\neighth birthday in the drawing room of his Swiss home. He\nwas talking to a life-long friend. He had on a purple dressing\nof an ottoman. Suddenly he jumped up and before his aston-\nfriend knew what he was going to do he was standing\non his head. His wife entered. She was dumfounded. Wag-\nner recovered from his extraordinary position and looked\ntriumphantly at his friends.\n\"I am fifty-eight years old,\" he said, \"and I still can stand\non my head.\n\"How happy I am!\""}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1915-10-21-01-c017", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1915-10-21_01#c017", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1915-10-21_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "150", "page_fin": "150", "image_debut": 17, "image_fin": 17, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.2.17", "titre_corps": "Bruno's Weekly, published weekly, by Charles Edison and", "titre_sommaire": "Bruno's Weekly, published weekly, by Charles Edison and", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 17, "page_imprimee": "150", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.17", "debut_caractere": 2618, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2854, "texte": "Bruno's Weekly, published weekly, by Charles Edison and\nEdited and written by Guido Bruno, 58 Washington Square,\nNew York City. Subscription $1 a year.\nApplication for entry as second-class matter at the Post Office o(\nNew York pending."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1915-10-21-01-c018", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1915-10-21_01#c018", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1915-10-21_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "[151]", "page_fin": "[151]", "image_debut": 18, "image_fin": 18, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.2.18", "titre_corps": "[Publicité]", "titre_sommaire": "[Publicité]", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 18, "page_imprimee": "[151]", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.18", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 594, "texte": "»\n*\n*\ny\nI Lets,\nCharles Edison's Little Thimble Theatre, Situated\nat No. 10 Fifth Avenue, Greenwich Village,N.Y.C.\nGuido Bruno, Manager.\nThis Week's Performances and Concerts\nWednesday, 2:00 p. m.\nChildren's Hour and Disc Concert\non the Square\nThursday, 8:15 p. m.\nPerformance at the Little Thimble\nTheatre\nFriday\n8:15 p. m.\nPerformance at the Little Thimble\nTheatre\nSaturday, 2:00 p. m.\n8 :15 p. m.\nChildren's Hour and Disc Concert\non the Square\nPerformance at the Little Thimble\nTheatre\nAsk or write for ticket of admission to The\nLittle Thimble Theatre performances. They\nare free of charge."}]}], "pages_ocr_originales": [{"page_pdf": 1, "page_imprimee": "couv. 1", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.1", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\nEDITED BY GUIDO BRUNO IN HIS GARRET\nON WASHINGTON SQUARE\nFive Cents October 21st, 1915"}, {"page_pdf": 2, "page_imprimee": "[135]", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.2", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\nEdited by Guido Bruno in his Garret on Washington Square\nNo. 14\nOCTOBER 21st, MCMXV\nVol.l\nC»Purtghl 1915 by Qui Jo SB ra no\n\nFor Two Voices\nMaurice Hewlett\nMOTHER, mother, isn't it fun,\nThe soldiers marching past in the sun!\"\n\"Child, child, what are you saying112\nCome to church. We should be praying\"\n\"Look, mother, at their bright spears!\"\n\"The leaves are falling like women*s tears.\"\n\"You are not looking at what I see.\"\n\"Nay, but I look at what must be,\"\n\"Hark to the pipes! See the flags flying!\"\n\"I hear the sound of a girl crying\"\n\"How many hundreds before they are done!\"\n\"How many mothers wanting a son!\"\n\"Here rides the general pacing slow!'\n\"Well he may, if he knows what I know\"\n\"O, this war, what a glorious game\"\n\"Sin and shame, sin and shame.\"\n\nThe Peace Was Broken\n\"TTHERE is not a lovelier place in the city than Washington\nSquare. It carries the touch' of intimacy that makes\ndear the boudoir of our beloved one. It has the dignity of a\nchurch and the friendliness of the inn-keeper who values us as\ngladly sheltered guests. The little Italian bootblack was shining\nmy shoes. The grass was yellowish green scattered with red\nleaves. A merciful wind had tenderly cut the last threads\nwith which they had hung lifeless to the branches. Sober\nlooking men and women in Sunday attire passed on their way\nto churches and children annoyed happily their governesses\nthat were chatting and scolding. A pitiful figure reclined on\na nearby bench. An old woman. Her clothes were ragged.\nThe toes practically sticking out of her torn shoes. A funny\nthing that she wore as a hat was tied under her chin. A little"}, {"page_pdf": 3, "page_imprimee": "136", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.3", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\npackage held together with heavy cord had rolled from her lap\nto the ground. She was asleep. Her hands were clasped as in\nprayer. She might have been under the influence of liquor, but\nmaybe she was only exhausted.\nThe bench did not object to her taking a rest. A dead\nleaf had chosen her shoulder as a resting-place. Everybody\nwho passed her showed pity in his eyes. Who would not pity\na woman? An old woman. A ragged woman, sleeping on a\nbench on a morning. On a Sunday morning. A woman that\nmight have been your mother or my own. A woman .\na fellow-being ... a fellow-sufferer.\nYes, there was one who objected that this poor creature\nhad found rest for a minute after the weary travels of a\nhomeless night. One who saw in her a disgrace to the quiet\nsurroundings of a Park that had accepted her, had caressed\nher, had lovingly watched her. There was one who looked\nwith the eyes of a delighted beast that discovers its prey at\nthis poor old creature. He stopped at a few yards distance.\nHe took in the sight like the lustful pervert looking at the\ninnocent young girl he is about to disgrace. The second he\nsaw her he knew that the peace of this being must be dis-\nturbed. No rest for her. She must move on. Did he step\nnear her, did he touch her shoulder gently, did he give her a\nchance to awaken, to open her eyes, and did he tell her in\na sympathetic voice: \"It is not allowed to sit in this park,\nmother. I am sorry that I have to disturb you; let me guide\nyou to a place that is prepared for such weary travellers as\nyou are, where you will find peace and relief ?\" Oh, no!\nNoiselessly he approached her so that he might not awaken\nher and spoil the pleasure of his profession. With his big\nheavy well-clothed foot, the brute stepped on her feet. She\nscreamed. She looked wildly around. He jerked her up.\nAnd the peace of the square was broken.\n\nThe President for Woman Suffrage\nJ>RESIDENT WILSON'S vote for woman suffrage is not so\nimportant as some people would make it out to be, yet it\nhas a certain importance for all that. The President is both a\ndreamer, so-called, and a practical man. His example, therefore,\nwill strengthen the conviction of men of either of those predilec-\ntions. I doubt if it will \"make\" many votes for woman suffrage.\nThat is a question which men do not take sides upon because\nof the distinction of its supporters or opponents. President\nWilson will \"make\" no more votes for the cause than did ex-\nPresident Roosevelt. Most male supporters of woman suffrage\nare for it because they think it a logical extension of the demo-\ncratic principle and that is probably President Wilson's reason-\ning on the subject. Where his example will have weight will be\nin the method of establishing woman suffrage. He says that\nit must come by State rather than National action, and, constitu-\ntionally, he is right. His action will tend to put an end to the\nagitation for a national admission of women to the ballot. Of\ncourse, as he is the head of his party, his vote is important as"}, {"page_pdf": 4, "page_imprimee": "137", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.4", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nindicating that he sees nothing in his party's principles opposed\nto votes for women. It does not, however, commit his party.\nHe voted as an individual, not as head either of the Government\nor of the party. For this reason the Democratic forces in the\ncities, opposed to woman suffrage, cannot object to his action\nas committing the party to the cause. The anti-prohibitionist\nDemocrats will not like his action, of course, because they think\nthe woman vote will be always and everywhere an anti-liquor\nvote, but the President himself is not a Prohibitionist like Mr.\nBryan. It is doubtful if many admirers of the President will\nbe swung over to the suffrage movement because he has taken\nit up. What his vote will do is that it will make people think\nthe question over for themselves when they find that a thinker\nsnch as he is known to be has reached the affirmative conclusion.\nSpeaking generally, the President's vote shows more that popular\nopinion has moved him than that he will move it. He helps\nthe movement, I should say, just because his vote has weight\non account of his being a good judge of the popular sentiment,\nwhereas Mr. Taft's opposition is unimportant because he is\nsuch a poor judge of the popular feeling upon anything. No\none, however, plumps either way on a question like woman suf-\nfrage because any one man, however distinguished, is on one\nside or the other. The suffrage movement is influencing Presi-\ndents and ex-Presidents more than they are influencing the suf-\nfrage movement. It cannot be stopped. Women, as intelligent\nmoral beings, are entitled to the ballot whether it be a right or a\nprivilege. If it be a right, it is theirs. If it be a privilege, they\nhave earned it as a class as fully as men have ever earned it\nSo thinks Woodrow Wilson, citizen. As President, he says that\nthe ballot must come through the individual States. His ex-\nample should concentrate woman suffrage effort upon the States\nand put an end to \"hikes\" to Washington.\nWilliam Marion Ready in his Mirror, St. Louis\n\nThursday, Friday and Saturday in Char-\nles Edison's Little Thimble Theatre\nJUST to make it clear once more: Mr. Charles Edison's\nLittle Thimble Theatre has no other purpose but to give\nyoung American musicians, composers, poets and playwrights\na hearing. To act as a free forum accessible to everybody who\nhas done something that he considers worth while and to give\nhim a chance to be heard by an unprejudiced audience.\nJudging from Mr. Edison's mail of the last weeks, a good\nmany people seem to be under the impression that the Thimble\nTheatre is a kind of philanthropic institution for musicians and\nsingers out of employment, others mistake it for a concert hall\nwhere artists of fame will be heard. The mere fact that one\nhas a known name, that one has a pocketful of newspaper clip-\npings or has sung or played before European princes and mem-\nbers of royal families and has received medals and crosses of\nhonor, bars him from an appearance in the Little Thimble\nTheatre."}, {"page_pdf": 5, "page_imprimee": "138", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.5", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nIt is just the American who works and toils honestly in this\ncountry and has not had, for some reason or another, a chance\nto be rejected or accepted by an American public, that Mr.\nEdison is interested in.\nWe live in an age of recognition. The tragedy of a Poe\ncould hardly be repeated to-day. The good work done will\nultimately gain recognition and it is solely up to the man him-\nself to create for himself the right circle of activities. America\nneeds good music, good poems, good books. While the writer\nhas it comparatively easy to persuade a publisher to see the\nmerits of his works, the musician is handicapped by that supreme\nillusion which has taken hold of all impresarios and producers\nof plays: that America has no music and that the American\nhas to look for real good stuff to Mother Europe. But the\nworst of it is they don't want even to lend themselves to an\nexperiment. They are afraid of everything that hasn't got\nthe European label.\nIt would be megalomania to assume that the activities of the\nLittle Thimble Theatre, even if successful beyond expectation,\ncould change this condition. But the little snowball kicked off\nincidentally from the high mountain grows to be a big avalanche.\nAnd if the larger public cannot be reached and the composer\nor musician derives no other benefit but to play in public, his\nself-confidence is being strengthened and he returns home filled\nwith new ambitions, and plunges into his work with new\nvigor.\nMr. Edison invites every American rnusician, composer or\nsinger to take advantage of his Little Thimble Theatre. Serious\nefforts will find serious consideration.\n\"Proverbs in Porcelain,\" by Austin Dobson, were so en-\nthusiastically received that in addition to the two playlets given\nlast week, two more of the same group will be played on\nThursday, Friday and Saturday. The musical program com-\nprises a selection of American music, some of the composers\nnever heard before in New York .\nAll those who are interested kindly write or call personally\nfor program or tickets. They are free of charge. Address,\nCharles Edison's Little Thimble Theatre, 10 Fifth Avenue,\nNew York.\n\nChildren's Hour on the Square\nnot come down once and see with your own eyes, on a\nsunny afternoon? Just after school is over, after the\nchildren have piled their books in pyramids around the fountain\nright back of the arch, on Washington Square, the \"teachers'*\nlining them up in lines and rings, the music starts a march or\na waltz .... They all forget the petty worries of their young\nlives, and they are just young and merry.\nCrowds are attracted. People step nearer, drivers interrupt\ntheir journey, get up on their seats, their hard-set, weather-\nbeaten faces undergo a wonderful change. They smile, they\nactually smile and their unshaven features lose of their coarse-"}, {"page_pdf": 6, "page_imprimee": "139", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.6", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nness and they don't seem apart from all the other humanity\nbecause of the heavy rough labor which has hardened the best\nthey had: their ability to smile.\nYou must watch the men on the benches in our parks some\nday, you must 100k—not only mechanically glance at them—\nat their faces. They seldom smile. Smiling is the expression\nof peace with oneself, of gladness one finds in oneself. It is so\nvastly different from laughing.\nHow do they smile at the Square, looking at chil-\ndren in their joyful exercise! There is a watering station of\nthe Society for the Preventation of Cruelty to Animals on\nthe other side of the fountain. Hundreds of horses hitched\nto heavy loads, stop there for a few minutes of well-earned rest\nand for a draught of water. The drivers in the meantime\nsmoke a pipe or roll a cigarette. They chat with the men\non the benches. Who are these men on the benches? They\nare another mystery so often explored and still as mysterious\nas a hundred years ago. In the old New York Advertiser for\n1815, we find a lengthy paragraph about the on\nNew York park benches. They are still there. They sit quietly\nin the sun or shiver contentedly in the cold of our autumn\nmornings. They read newspapers picked up in waste paper cans\nor handed to them by the conductors of the auto busses, left\non the seats by passengers. They talk only rarely. They are the\nquiet philosophers of our Square. They sit often for hours\nstaring up at the skies or looking down to the ground, following\nwith quick eyes the steps of passersby. The drivers in the\nafternoon are the only distraction in their sordid life. They\nare the event of the day for the bench-dweller. They have\ncigarettes or tobacco for a pipe, they have a lunch pail with\noften more in it than they can eat themselves and most\nlikely they won't mind to act as bankers to their friends in\nthe park, if their transaction of loans be kept inside of the\ncopper currency.\nAnd they all step nearer to the big circle around the children\nof the Children's Hour on Washington Square, their looks\ngrow more and more interested the longer they observe the\nchildren. They are departing with that certain smile on their\nfaces. And while they return to their benches or to their\ndriver's seats, or continue their journey of the day, they con-\ntinue to be under the spell of that Children's Hour. They\nthink of things so remote to their present lives. Many of\nthem had here the first chance to see children at play for a\nlong, long time, and if once old memories are revived, and\nthe mind taken away from the crude world of today . . . .\nwell .... they smile.\nThe Diamond Disc on Washington Square. Just a few\nbars of music diffuse in the air. They do real good—these\nChildren's Hours on Washington Square. They also do good\nfor grown-up children on the benches, the step-children of our\ncity."}, {"page_pdf": 7, "page_imprimee": "140", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.7", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nMilligan Place\n\nPassing Paris\n\nParis, October Ist, 1915.\nCharles Grolleau, whose poetry appears for the first\ntime in England in the October issue of \"The Egoist,\"\nhas on several occasions been the medium of English literature\nin France. His translation of Blake's Marriage of Heaven\nand Hell necessarily figures among literary tours de force\nand curiosities, and Oscar Wilde has found in him his most\nsensitive interpreter, one of the few who is not an Iscariot!\nFor M. Grolleau belongs to that group of French erudites in\nEnglish letters comprising M. Augustin Filon, M. Joseph\nAynard, M. Theodore de Wyzewa, M. Edmond Pilon, M.\nHenry Davray, M. Jacques Copeau, &c., and among whom\nthe recent death of M. Robert d'Humieres has brought about\na most regrettable fissure.\nM. Grolleau is not introduced here as the representative of\nany form of secessionistic departure, but as a poet of culture\nand spirituality. The immaterialism of his conceptions is such\nas often to escape the mental grasp of the reader, who is\nfrequently called upon to strain the spheres in which his mind"}, {"page_pdf": 8, "page_imprimee": "141", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.8", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nmore usually evolves to reach within touch of the distant and\nunworldly domain of M. Grolleau's thought-vision. One often\nfeels he leaves one far behind him. Like the late Charles\nPeguy and Andre Lafon, Charles Grolleau is a fervent Roman\nCatholic. As was the first of these he is a convert; unlike the\nsecond, rare poet though he was, he is also a mysti©. Andre\nLafon was a worshipper after the order of Francis Jammes.\nM. Grolleau's religion is more intellectual and transcends\nbeyond the limited perpetual adoration of creation. His poems\nveil rather than define revelations of the most intimate char-\nacter and of whose abstractions verbal expression can generally\noffer but the enigma, and seldom the key.\nPerceiving and creating—and are not perceptions and crea-\ntions if not identical allied?—an independent sphere as this\npoet does he is, therefore, and independent in the most essential\nand elevated sense. By his side how small appear those who\nattain freedom merely through revolt instead of initiation and\nhow these may envy him the unison he naturally achieves\nbetween forms so strict and inspirations so vast and intangible.\nTo attempt to give it further, that is second-hand, precision\nmight amount to the profanation by an indiscreet and irreverent\ntrespasser of a secret chapel.\nM. Jacques Copeau has translated, and published with the\nNouvelle Revue Francaise, Mr. Clutton-Brock's observations\non the war.\nIt is strange to see M. Henri Albert, the translator of\nNietzsche's complete works, give the popular and erroneous\nrendering of the German word \"ehrenvoll\" in the last number\nof the Mercure, and which misconstruction has led the world\nto imagine that Germany was aspiring to a merely \"honourable\"\npeace, instead of the \"peace full of honour\" to which it con-\nsiders itself entitled in reality.\nExtract from a Letter to\"The Egoist,\" London.\n\nMuriel Ciolkowska.\n\nInternational Magazines in Germany\n\nTHOSE who believe that Art, like Religion, should be inter-\nnational, will be glad to know that certain periodicals\nand certain groups of young artists in Germany and Austria\nhave steadily refused to submerge themselves in the welter of\nchauvinism which seems to have covered the Central Empires\n—and not those alone. The older generation of writers and\nartists seems at least to have acquiesced in a large measure;\nRichard Dehmel is apparently writing one war poem per day;\nRichard Strauss intends out-Wagnering Wagner in a grand\nnew Kaisermarsch. But even among the established writers,,\nthe classics, so to speak, there are remarkable exceptions;\nArthur Schnitzler has appealed to reason against Lissauer's\nHymn of Hate, and Stefan Georg's periodical, Blatter fur die\nKunst has resolved on a noble indifference to the European\nmadness. Other periodicals adopting this policy are Die"}, {"page_pdf": 9, "page_imprimee": "142", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.9", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nWeissen Blatter and Der Sturm. The first is a paper run by\nyoung artists and poets; the second is more distinctively an\nadvanced art periodical, though its literary contents are by no\nmeans insignificant. Most people are familiar with its Cubist\nor Futurist front page. It corresponds, I suppose, to the\nEgoist in London and Les Soirees de Paris in Paris., Artists\nlike Kandinsky and Severini have contributed to it; Guillaume\nApollinaire has written criticism for it; Rene Schickele, one\nof the best known of the younger poets of Germany, has pub-\nlished several poems in Der Sturm. Here is one of them—a\nlittle model of simplicity and for that reason hard to render.\nPraise of My Lover (Lobspruch)\nHow shall I know\nWhether it is you\nI love most?\nAnd yet I am sure\nIt is you\nWho gives me most joy.\nGladness comes\nFrom pure strength;\nIt is kindled in my very blood.\nThen what maturity you have—\nYour skin, your hair,\nThe very sound of your step.\nThe next poem is from a less-known poet, Paul Bom-\nmersheim:\nPoem\nThe fog draws closer and closer,\nIts walls grow and overshadow the world'.\nHeavily,\nAnd the armies of it creep up nearer and nearer.\nThe last grey branches fall and disappear;\nThe world sinks slowly away from us,\nLeaf . . . by . . . leaf.\nAnd now we are alone—in solitary space.\nThis is the hour of the great discovery.\nWe come closer and closer together,\nAnd we hold one another by fiery hands,\nGlowing like stars.\n\nAlec W. G. Randall\n\nIn Our Village\nDjuna's Exhibit\nOn August 23rd, thirty-four drawings and pastels by Djuna\nBarnes will be tacked to the walls of Bruno's Garret for four-\nteen days. Especially her war impressions, the impersonations\nof the tools of war in a weird, terrific way, are a new venture\nin the grotesque. Djuna Barnes is one of the few young\nAmerican artists who walk their own way. Not willing to\nmake concessions to publishers and art editors, she is using\nher pen to earn her livlihood as a newspaper woman, and\npermits herself the luxury of being an artist just to please\nherself. Frequently she has been called the American Beardsley,"}, {"page_pdf": 10, "page_imprimee": "143", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.10", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nDjuna Barnes, by Terry\n\nnot because she is trying to imitate the father of our \"black\nand white art,\" but because she is doing original work as well\nas he did. It is just a question of time, until she will \"put it\nover\" and we will see her work spread through to our popular\nillustrated publications.\nHer exhibition is a very representative one.\nOn Saturday afternoon at three o'clock, will be a poetry\nreading and everybody is a welcome visitor.\nEvery Monday evening at eight o'clock, an informal gathering\nof all kinds of specimens of the genus homo.\nThe Clara Tice evening on last Monday, proved very inter-\nesting. It was a gathering of people who had mostly not met\nbefore, but who did not hesitate to voice their opinions and\ntheir impressions of Clara Tice's work.\nA FREE school in the real sense of the word, as dreamed\nof a quarter of a century ago by that martyr for libertarian\neducation Francisco Ferrer, is the newest addition to the many\ninstitutions in our village of the new season. Ferrer's ideal"}, {"page_pdf": 11, "page_imprimee": "144", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.11", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nof a school was a free exchange of answers for questions.\nAfter he rented suitable quarters he wanted to hang out his\nshingle, \"Here is a School.\" Anybody could stroll in, sit down,\nlisten, ask questions and come again if he was interested\nenough and wished to, or stay away if that was not the sort\nof thing after his liking.\nIn the old Benedick, that quaint bachelor apartment house\non the east side of the Square, which sheltered some of our\nmost famous men of letters and art, Mr. Anton Hellmann\nwill keep open house every Friday afternoon at 4.30, for all\nthose who are interested in his work. He is an interior\ndecorator to the people. \"Harmony of color, expression of\nthe inhabitant's individuality can be kept inside the purse limit\nof everybody,\" is the contention of Mr. Hellmann. In twenty\ntalks spread over the twenty weeks of the coming season,\nhe will show in his studio how his theories can be put into\npractice—by everybody. The first series of these informal\ngatherings on Friday afternoons will unroll before ears\nof the listeners a history of domestic architecture. Fallon\nwhose work has proved that he is able to talk vividly to\nothers what he demonstrates through his work every day, will\ngive these talks and be ready to answer any questions put\nbefore him. He also will speak about the interior detail\nof an ideal home.\nMr. Hellmann will gladly answer any communications from\nthose interested.\nPark & Tilford's Birthplace\nGreenwich Village, the Birth-place of Park & Tilford's Establisnment\nJust three-quarters of a century ago to-d'ay two young men opened\nthe doors of a small sized grocery store on Carmine Street, in the\nold Ninth ward. To-day, after seventy-five years, during which\nNew York City has spread itself over Manhattan Island and beyond\nthe Harlem and East Rivers, a thousand employees of the firm of\nPark & Tilford go about the firm's business in ten stores and sev-\neral factories\nThe two young members of the firm of Park & Tilford were wise\nin their selection of a site for their enterprise, for Carmine Street in\nlower Greenwich Village was then the most aristocratic section of\nNew York. To get to Harlem was a long and tiresome journey. It\nwas a bold venture indeed for the two ambitious young men to locate\ntheir store in so wealthy a district, for between them they had only\n$300. But somehow they bought a modest stock of staples that\nsatisfied the comparatively simple demands of their customers. Break-\nfast foods were unheard of then and canned goods still in the distant\nfuture. , „ . • , i\nJoseph Park and John M. Tilford at first sold the goods them-\nselves over the counter. The problem of delivering them was not\npressing, for usually the housewives came equipped with huge baskets,\nand they shopped until the baskets were full. The more fortunate\nwomen came to the store in company with a black iootman who did\nthe \"toting,\" and these housewives were considerably aristocratic.\nThe business of selling groceries to Greenwich Village prospered\nand as the stock expanded it outgrew the little Carmine Street store.\nThe city too was growing and Park & Tilford followed their customers\nnorthward and located at Ninth Street and Sixth It was\nhere that wagon deliveries began, for the store was beginning to\nsupply a greater area. Every year brought new articles of food to\nsatisfy the palates of New Yorkers and_ the sale of this new class\nof groceries was profitable.—New York Times."}, {"page_pdf": 12, "page_imprimee": "145", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.12", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nBooks and Magazines of the Week\nMy Childhood\nHis real name is Aleksyei Maksimovitch Pyeshkof, but he\ncalled himself Gorki, \"The Bitter One.\" And surely full of\nbitterness against the world in which he had to live should the\nchildhood have turned him which he pictures in the reminiscences\njust published by The Century Company. The disgusting details\nof the everyday life of a struggling, low Russian family lose\ntheir disagreeable features in the pen of Gorki. The impartial\nway with which he paints things often otherwise unspeakable\nbring the great painter of Russian life as it is nearer to us and\ndearer to our hearts.\nAnd just now, at the time of revival of Russian letters in\nEngland and America and especially where through new, popular\neditions, Gorki is made accessible to the greater masses we\ncannot but think with regretful sorrow of the days of his pres-\nence in our midst, of the chauvinism with which we treated the\ngreat writer of real life during his stay in America. He who\ngives pleasure to millions today offered in vain his hand for the\nhearty grip of friendship. How must this man, with a youth\nwhich reveals his childhood to us have felt our narrowness!\nDreams and Dust\nDon Marquis has collected some of his most important poems\ninto a volume. The book reviewer of the Evening Sun does\nnot state whether it is published or will be published, and also\nthe name of the publisher is not given.\nOf course, everybody knows Don Marquis. His \"Sun Dial\"\nin the Evening Sun is the one permanent bright feature among\nthe often too sordid columns of our newspapers. He is the\nromancier among the chaos of business and crime and tragedy.\nHe is the humorist among the professional relaters of the history\nof our day and among the bad or worse attempts to be edu-\ncational. His column is a source of pleasure and merriment\nto the thousands who are his daily readers. He is satyrical, he\ndoesn't hesitate to make fun of a thing, to make it ridiculous,\ncrushingly ridiculous. But he does it with the rare gift of a\nphilosopher and an artist. He never offends and his satire is not\nstinging.\nAmerican newspapers do not know criticism and fueilleton.\nAn impartial review of things concerning literature, art and\nmusic is about the most that can be in its pages devoted\nto these departments. The voice of the individual is submerged\nin a set pattern, presented for some reason or another by our\nnewspapers to their readers. Don Marquis' column is about\nthe only individualistic expression that can be found in the news-\npapers of America. Another poet before him gave his best\nto the people, really to the people. It was Eugene Field who\nwrote the best of his verse, those lines which make him immortal,\nin the column of a penny newspaper which he conducted.\nGreat is the mission of a man who brings rhythm, joy of life,"}, {"page_pdf": 13, "page_imprimee": "146", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.13", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nromance and the merry word that will make smile the thousands\nthat buy a penny paper.\nKreymborg's Others\nThe October number of \"Others,\" the magazine of new\nverse, edited by Alfred Kreymborg, contains poems of the\nchoric school. In the preface Mr. Ezra Pound relates how he\nattended a poetry reading somewhere in England where Miss\nDillon, one of the choric school poets, \"came in at the end of\nthe hall and danced out their own poems. I then understood\nthe curious breaks and pauses, the elaborate system of dots\nand dashes with which this new group is wont to adorn its\nverses. Here is the motto John Rodker, another choric poet,\nchose for his \"The Dutch Dolls:\"\n\"Hi, Hi, Hi ... . \"■—Verlaine\nThe Poets' Translation Series\nNumber 2 of the Poets' Translation Series, published at first\nin the Egoist, in London, and simultaneously in pamphlet form\nhas just reached our shore. They are poems and fragments\nof Sappho, translated by Edward Storer. Sappho was born on\nthe island of Lesbos about 600 B. C. At some period of her life\nshe was exiled from Lesbos. The tragedy and beauty of her\nlife reveals itself to us in her poems. She is a woman of\nardent nature, noble, delicate-minded and fond of pleasure. Her\npoems were chiefly love poems and that they were written chiefly\nto women is clear, even from the mutilated fragments which\nremain.\nAmerican Bookplate Society\nThe American Bookplate Society announces the early publi-\ncation of its first year book, which will contain in addition to\nconventional year book material an authentic check list of Mr.\nSidney L. Smith's bookplates together with original impressions\nof five copper plates of his workmanship. The edition is limited\nto two hundred and ten copies, for members of the society.\n\nDogs' Tails\nBy D. Molby.\n*J*HERE is only one purpose to a dog's tail and that is to\nexpress his emotions and feelings. The longer his tail\nis the better can he do it. And when he is in nervous excite-\nment as when he is looking for something, he needs some way\nof releasing his tension through movement. His tail is good\nfor this and doesn't interfere with anything.\nWhen he is real pleased at seeing someone, he wants the\nperson to know it. And his actions speak—not louder, but\ntruer than words. There is no pretense about him and if\nhe wants to show his contempt he is just as frank to do it.\nHe does not move his tail in a particular way because he\nhas a particular emotion, but has an emotion according to\nthe way he moves his tail. If he wants to feel happy, he wags\nit, and this has a return effect upon his mind, because he can"}, {"page_pdf": 14, "page_imprimee": "147", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.14", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nsee that someone knows he is happy and he can feel that his\ntail is wagging.\nThe dogs have always known that their tails were for some\nuse and they moved them around in different ways until they\nfound out what different effects could be obtained. If they\nhad let them hang still they would have disappeared long ago\nand the dog of to-day would not hold anything like the place\nin the world that he now holds.\n\nA NEW SONG OF SOLOMON\nTom Sleeper\nTHY voice is like thewind in the cedars\nOh my love.\nAnd thine eyes shine like opals, wet with the dew of deep\nsummer.\nThy breath is as the perfume of the lilies nodding in the\nstill pool\nOh my Love, my only Love.\nThy heart is a lone fire burning in the wilderness—\nOh my Love.\nIt exalteth my soul with warmth\nIn the twilight of the murmuring evening\nAnd thy hair is more beautiful than the\nDarkness enwrapping the wan stars\nOh my Love, my only Love.\n\nThe Sous-Prefet Afield\nBy Alphonse Daudet.\nJMfONSIEUR the sous-Prefet is on his rounds. With coach-\nman before! and lackey behind, the barouche of the sous-\nPrefecture carries him majestically to the agricultural fair of\nthe Combe-aux- Fees. For that memorable day Monsieur the\nsous-Prefet has put on his best embroidered coat, his little\ncocked hat, his tight-fitting breeches with silver bands, and\nhis gala sword with hilt of mother-of-pearl. Upon his lap lies\na great portfolio of embossed shagreen, upon which he gazes\nsadly.\nMonsieur the sous-Prefet gazes sadly on his portfolio of\nembossed shagreen; he is thinking of the famous speech which\nhe will have to make presently before the citizens of the Combe-\naux-Fees. But although he twists the blonde silk of his whiskers\nand repeats, twenty times over, \"Messieurs etchers administres,\"\nthe rest of the speech does not come.\nThe rest of the speech does not come. It is so hot in the\nbarouche! As far as the eye can reach, the road of the Combe-\nauz-Fees powders under the sun of the South. The air is\nscorching, and in the elms that border the road, all covered\nwith white dust, thousands of cicadas answer one another from\ntree to tree. Suddenly Monsieur the sous-Prefect gives a start.\nOver there, at the foot of a slope, he has just perceived a little\nwood of green oaks that beckons to him."}, {"page_pdf": 15, "page_imprimee": "148", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.15", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nThe little wood of green oaks seems to beckon to him.\n\"Come this way, Monsieur the sous-Prefet; to compose your\nspeech, you will be much more comfortable under my trees.\"\nMonsieur the sous-Prefet is tempted. He jumps from his\nbarouche, and tells his servants to wait for him; that he is going\nto compose his speech in the little wood of green oaks.\nIn the little wood of green oaks there are birds, violets, and\nsprings under the tender grass. As soon as they saw Monsieur\nthe sous-Prefet, with his fine breeches and his portfolio of\nembossed shagreen, the birds felt frightened and stopped sing-\ning, the springs no longer dared to make any noise, and the\nviolets hid themselves in the sward. That little world had\nnever seen a sous-Prefet, and asks itself, in low tones, who\nthat fine seigneur was who walked about in silver breeches.\nIn low tones, under the leafage, they ask themselves who\nthat fine seigneur is in silver breeches. Meanwhile Monsieur\nthe sous-Prefet, delighted with the silence and the coolness of\nthe wood, lifts his coat-tails, deposits his cocked hat on the\ngrass, and sits in the moss at the foot of a young oak. Then\nhe opens on his knees his great portfolio of embossed shagreen,\nand takes from it a large sheet of official foolscap.\n\"He is an artist,\" says a warbler.\n\"No,\" says a bullfinch, \"he is not an artist, since he wears\nsilver breeches; he is rather a prince.\"\n\"He is rather a prince,\" says the bullfinch.\n\"Neither an artist nor a prince,\" interrupts an old nightingale,\nwho has sung for a whole season in the gardens of the sous*\nprefecture; \"I know what he is; he is a sous-prefet.\"\nAnd all the little wood goes whispering:\n\"He is a sous-prefet! He is a sous-prefet I\"\n\"How bald he is!\" remarks a lark with a great tuft on his\nhead.\nThe violets ask:\n\"Is it dangerous?\"\n\"Is it dangerous?\" ask the violets.\nThe old nightingale answers:\n\"Not at all!\"\nAnd upon that assurance the birds recommence to sing, the\nsprings to run, the violets to shed their perfume, as though\nthe gentleman were not there. Unconscious amid all the merry\ndin, Monsieur the sous-Prefet invokes in his heart the Muse of\nagricultural fairs, and with lifted pencil begins to declaim in\nceremonial tones:\n\"Messieurs etchers administres—\"\nMessieurs etchers administressays the sous-Prefet, in cer-\nemonial tones.\nA burst of laughter interrupts him; he turns around and\nsees nothing but a fat woodpecker perched upon his cocked hat.\n\n(To be continued)"}, {"page_pdf": 16, "page_imprimee": "149", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.16", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n(Continued from last issue)\n\nRichard Wagner—Egoist\nBy Guido Bruno\npiRTHDAYS in Germany are family holidays.\nChildren look forward to the anniversary of their arrival\non earth with a similiar, delightful anxiety as to Christmas\neve with its joys and surprises.\nThe German loves traditions and customs. What he saw\nin his father's house he most likely will practice in his own.\nHe will celebrate his father's or mother's birthday in his own\nhome perhaps hundreds of miles away or years after their\ndeparture from life. Gifts received on birthdays are the key\nto the ambitions and wishes of the recipient and to the attitude\nof the giver towards him.\nA few Christmas eves and a few birthdays tell the glory\nof Wagner's life.\nIt was several months after the death of his stepfather in\nthe modest home of his mother. Richard was nine years old\nand was to enter a regular school for the first time in his life.\nThe four oldest brothers and sisters had entered stage life and\nwere in other German cities.\nThere were under the Christmas tree the Christmas cake\nand apples and nuts and a new suit for Wagner. The\nmother knew what had worried her son when he had passed\nthe examination and was admitted to the school. All the\nother children had appeared in neat dresses with linen cuffs and\nlinen collars. He alone wore clothes his mother had made at\nhome.\nEighteen years later Wagner celebrated his birthday in simi-\nlarly poor surroundings. It was in Paris. The hopes for a\nbig success had long vanished and he and his young wife\nwere living in two, cheaply-furnished rooms. Trinkets and\npossessions were pawned and they called nothing their own\nbut what they wore.\nAfter nearly a year's residence in Paris the clothes Wagner\nhad brought with him from Germany were showing sad signs\nof wear. The year had been fruitless from a money point of\nview and his wardrobe had not been replenished. His senti-\ntiveness on this point was well known to his young wife,\nMinna. To give him pleasure she hunted through Paris until\nshe found a German tailor with a small business, who, swayed\nby her blandishments provided her with a suit of clothes for\nher husband. With tears in his eyes he used to relate the story\nof the birthday morning on the 22d of May, 1840. There was\na bunch of flowers in the water pitcher. There was a letter\nfrom his mother, arrived a few days previously, and kept for\nthis occasion by his thoughtful wife, there was some fruit—a\nluxury bought for this special occasion—and his wife's present,\n—the new suit.\nUps and downs followed in quick sequence in the life of\nthe struggling composer; fewer and fewer became the downs\nand more frequent the ups. 1857 found Wagner in London.\nThe Philharmonic Society had chosen him as the director of"}, {"page_pdf": 17, "page_imprimee": "150", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.17", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\nj- r — -\n(To be continued)\n\nthe Symphony Concerts. He had to fight for his recognition,\nhe had unpleasant days and made life-long enemies. His wife\nhad not accompanied him on this trip. He celebrated his birth-\nday among the few friends he had won in the city on the\nThames. Minna's letter with congratulations had promptly\narrived. His room had been transformed into a flower garden\nby his friends and as happy as a child he left the house after\nbreakfast to buy his own birthday gifts.\nHe strolled down Regent street, examined the show win-\ndows and bought everything his heart desired. Silk for shirts\nand for underwear, several pairs of shoes, handkerchiefs\nand finally he went to a fashionable tailor and ordered a\nsuit. He ordered his pockets and the back of his vest to be\nmade of silk; likewise the lining of his frock coat sleeves; he\ncould not endure the touch of cotton as it produced a shudder-\ning sensation throughout his body that distressed him. The\ntailor was surprised. He explained that silk for the back of\nthe vest and lining for the sleeves was not at all necessary.\nEven the richest people never had silk linings; furthermore it\nwas not seen. The last observation brought Wagner to one of his\nindignant outbursts: \"Never seen I Yes, that's the tendency of\nthis country; sham, sham, in everything. That which is not\nseen may be paltry and mean provided only that the exterior\nbe richly gilded.\"\nOn his birthday he decided to wear the biretta as head gear,\nonce sanctioned by antiquity but very uncommon and not\nworn by anyone in his days.\nThe letter he wrote to his wife on the evening of this day\nsounded very happy, telling her about all the purchases he had\nmade, and mentioning repeatedly his happiness over the things\nhe had bought\nAgain years passed. Minna, who had shared the years of\nhunger, who had listened patiently to the dreams of her hus-\nband, was no more. The simple creature could not follow\nher husband after he had reached the goal of his ambitions.\nHis dreams had come true.\nBut there was no part in them for her. They had separated.\nShe had died and he had married again. It was on his fifty-\neighth birthday in the drawing room of his Swiss home. He\nwas talking to a life-long friend. He had on a purple dressing\nof an ottoman. Suddenly he jumped up and before his aston-\nfriend knew what he was going to do he was standing\non his head. His wife entered. She was dumfounded. Wag-\nner recovered from his extraordinary position and looked\ntriumphantly at his friends.\n\"I am fifty-eight years old,\" he said, \"and I still can stand\non my head.\n\"How happy I am!\"\n\nBruno's Weekly, published weekly, by Charles Edison and\nEdited and written by Guido Bruno, 58 Washington Square,\nNew York City. Subscription $1 a year.\nApplication for entry as second-class matter at the Post Office o(\nNew York pending."}, {"page_pdf": 18, "page_imprimee": "[151]", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151021-01.1.18", "texte": "»\n*\n*\ny\nI Lets,\nCharles Edison's Little Thimble Theatre, Situated\nat No. 10 Fifth Avenue, Greenwich Village,N.Y.C.\nGuido Bruno, Manager.\nThis Week's Performances and Concerts\nWednesday, 2:00 p. m.\nChildren's Hour and Disc Concert\non the Square\nThursday, 8:15 p. m.\nPerformance at the Little Thimble\nTheatre\nFriday\n8:15 p. m.\nPerformance at the Little Thimble\nTheatre\nSaturday, 2:00 p. m.\n8 :15 p. m.\nChildren's Hour and Disc Concert\non the Square\nPerformance at the Little Thimble\nTheatre\nAsk or write for ticket of admission to The\nLittle Thimble Theatre performances. They\nare free of charge."}]}