{"numero_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1915-12-18-01", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1915-12-18_01", "ocr_sha256": "af73b6b13e01b1915407158e801a6539946f891228ecac8493e4cc7c5cc4da40", "source_tei": "https://github.com/Princeton-CDH/bluemountain-transcriptions/blob/main/periodicals/bmtnaaq/issues/1915/12/18_01/bmtnaaq_1915-12-18_01.tei.xml", "source_mets": "https://github.com/pulibrary/BlueMountain/blob/main/metadata/periodicals/bmtnaaq/issues/1915/12/18_01/bmtnaaq_1915-12-18_01.mets.xml", "url_numero": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151218-01", "articles": [{"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1915-12-18-01-c001", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1915-12-18_01#c001", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1915-12-18_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "couv. 1", "page_fin": "couv. 1", "image_debut": 1, "image_fin": 1, "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=bmtnaaq19151218-01.2.1", "titre_corps": "Ilonka Katasz", "titre_sommaire": "Ilonka Katasz", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 1, "page_imprimee": "couv. 1", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151218-01.1.1", "debut_caractere": 104, "fin_caractere_exclue": 117, "texte": "Ilonka Katasz"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1915-12-18-01-c002", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1915-12-18_01#c002", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1915-12-18_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "[287]", "page_fin": "[287]", "image_debut": 3, "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=bmtnaaq19151218-01.2.2", "titre_corps": "Letter with Sketch by Remington, as it appeared in Mr. Madigan's Late \"Autograph.\"", "titre_sommaire": "Letter with Sketch by Remington, as it appeared in Mr. Madigan's Late \"Autograph.\"", "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": "[287]", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151218-01.1.3", "debut_caractere": 138, "fin_caractere_exclue": 220, "texte": "Letter with Sketch by Remington, as it appeared in Mr.\nMadigan's Late \"Autograph.\""}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1915-12-18-01-c003", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1915-12-18_01#c003", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1915-12-18_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "[287]", "page_fin": "289", "image_debut": 3, "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=bmtnaaq19151218-01.2.3", "titre_corps": "Henry James In Greenwich Village", "titre_sommaire": "Henry James In Greenwich Village", "signature_source": "H. C. Bunner", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 3, "page_imprimee": "[287]", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151218-01.1.3", "debut_caractere": 222, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1391, "texte": "Henry James In Greenwich Village\n\nTo me it has always seemed that there tc one class in New\nYork that sits guard over a past full of romantic and\nquaint color. This is what I suppose must be called, conventionally,\nthe Knickerbocker class—not those uncommonly proud Vans\nand Vanders who stalk loftily through Mr. Augustin Daly's\nAmerican vaudevilles from the German, but the agreeable re?lics\nof the simple provincial society of two generations ago. A\nclass not unthrifty, not extravagant, yet not well fitted to\nmake or to hoard money, the!y live in a golden mean of com-\nfort, perhaps even in an atmosphere of mild luxury, on the\nborders of the world of fashion. They know little of Kensing-\nton stitch or of Eastern-woven portieres: their parlors are\nupholstered in damask and their bed-rooms in chintz. They\nire outdazzled by the glare and glitter with which the newer\nfolk of vaster fortunes surround themselves. Living mostly\nupon the rentals of shops and warehouses built upon what\nwere onc£ their country-places, they draw year by year more\nclosely to themselves, forming a sort of little Faubourg St.\nGermain, a colony of their own, among a faster-going people"}, {"page_pdf": 4, "page_imprimee": "288", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151218-01.1.4", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2980, "texte": "who respect them and despise their surroundings. It is a\ncolony of romantic old beaux and faded old bdles; where\nyoung faces are rare, and To-day somehow seems Half\nyesterday.\nThis is the world which interested Mr. Hefnry James when he\nwrote \"Washington Square.\" But Mr. Jamefs had but a mild\naesthetic sympathy with it; and, in fact, his Washington Square\nmight as well have been the smokiest of sparrow-haunted\nLondon parks as that fair old spot that was once the Potter's\nField, and then the Parade Ground, and where, for many years,\nold Pop Willis (a brother of the poet, and he was proud of\nit) ruled, majestic and many-buttoned, over nurse-maids and\ngrass-plot-invading children.\nTruly, it were but a dull life to chronicle now, but it had\nits youth. You may listen to some? gracious and garrulous old\nlady, with hair in puffs whiter than her widow's cap, purring\nover her reminiscences, until fancy begins to mimic memory,\nand to vivify for you some few hours of the dead days; and you\nalmost believe that you yourself were at that fine; party in\nChambers street, where they had tea and cakes for the ladies,\nand sherry,—no, sherry-wine, if you please?,— and where the\ngentlemen wrote verses in their hostess' album. And you may\nsee the gentle old gossip, a bright blue-eyed girl, with brown\nhair done up in a knot ala Grecque high on her pretty nape; you\nmay see her tie her fleecy hood under her chin, when tefn\no'clock strikes, and set out with mamma and papa—no \"mommer\"\nand \"popper\" then, the? gods be thanked!—for her home in\nGreenwich Village or Chelsea, to lay her innocent head upon\nher pillow and blush in her dreams with thinking of that\nyoung man whose hair was curly, whose cheeks were red,\nwhose black satin stock could not dim the glory of the New-\ngate collar, which the old people thought rakish and scarcely\nChristian.\nIs this harking back too far ? Go up to the Latin Quarter\nof New York, between Fourth and Thirteefnth streets and\nSixth and Second avenues. Go into any street and pick out the\nfamily mansion that was once the pride of the block. It is\nnow a cheap lodging-house?. Clinched with nails are the great\nmahogany folding-doors that in the old years were never\nclosed between room and room. In the parlor tinkles and\ncrashes a cheap grand piano, where once stood Gertrude's\ninlaid Broadwood—the? little spinet-like affair over which her\nlover leaned when she played—the Battle of Prague, was it?\nUpstairs is her own room, where she stood, now white and\nred, in that awful five minutes before they called her down\nto be wed, while her mother strained her to her heart in\nconvulsive embraces, and then held he?r off at arm's length,\nlest a tear should fall on the snowy satin. There is a young\ncouple to-night in the room that was so dainty then, that is\nso shabby now. A young couple from England it is. They\nsit hand in hand before the un-homelike anthracite fire. They\nare having a hard time of it, waiting for the business men"}, {"page_pdf": 5, "page_imprimee": "289", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151218-01.1.5", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2741, "texte": "of New York to awake to a sense of their own needs and\nmarch in a procession to beg for the services of that able and\nhighly-recommended young graduate of Cambridge, who has\ncome to make his fortune in a new country, where, of course,\nskilled labor is at a premium. She is trying to cheer him up,\nas young wives will. Their time will come, she tells him—\n\"for I'm sure there is nothing they can do here that you\ncouldn't do, dear.\" In the next room sit two young Bohemians,\nsmoking bad cigarettes, discussing the best place to get cheap\ndinners and the best plac£ to sell great poems, incidentally\nsettling questions of art and literature that have bothered\nthe world these many years, and casting glances of not ungener-\nous calculation at the €?ver-lessening amber beer in the cracked\npitcher between them. It would not much disturb their stout\nand hopeful young spirits if they knew that in that very\nchamber the first master of the house once on a time lay defad.\nNay, I think they would only write poems about it, could they\nfancy him stretched out there, a day's growth of gray beard\non his stern old chin, pointing at the ceiling from out the\nfolds of the white handkerchief, all the strangeness and distance\nof de?ath setting the familiar face apart from the household\nheart.\nBut the readers of the present demand a novel of the present?\nSo be it. Let the deodorized American Zola go down into\nthe old Ninth Ward any Sunday, and watch the solid burgesses\nheading their family processions churchward, as staidly as\nthough they had not beefn in their youth, every man of them,\nmembers of the volunteer fire department, and had not broken\nthe laws of God and the heads of their fellow-men whenever\nthety got a chance.\nThis is the true bourgeois class of New York, made up of\neminently respectable, commonplace, well-to-do, narrow-minded\nmen and women, among whom, of course, there must be,\nherg and there, a few young hearts fluttering with nobler ambi-\ntions, a few finer natures yearning for a finer and higher life.\nLet this deodorized Zola record the fortunes of some Green-\nwich Dorothy whose ideas of life wefre something too delicate\nfor her plain-going elders, who \"loved, maybe, perfume, soft\ntextures, lace, a half-lit room\"—some\n\"Poor child—with heart the downiest nest\nOf warmest instincts unconfest,\nSoft, callow things that vaguely felt\nThe breeze caress, the sunlight melt\nBut yet, by some obscure decree,\nUnwinged from birth.\"\nLet him record the history of one such, \"far too subtly\ngraced\" for her surroundings, who, more? lucky than her sisters,\nfound a way to a wider, livlier, and more cultured world; and\nlet him tell what breath of her own she brought into its hot-\nhouse atmosphere.\n\nH. C. Bunner."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1915-12-18-01-c004", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1915-12-18_01#c004", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1915-12-18_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "290", "page_fin": "290", "image_debut": 6, "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=bmtnaaq19151218-01.2.4", "titre_corps": "Cloud Ships A-sailing", "titre_sommaire": "Cloud Ships A-sailing", "signature_source": "G. G", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 6, "page_imprimee": "290", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151218-01.1.6", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 802, "texte": "Cloud Ships A-sailing\nG. G.\nTo a Little Newcomer in Washington Square\ngLEEP, Baby, sleep-\nClose thine eyes—\nThe cradle is falling\nDown from the skies—\nMother will rock it\nSlowly or fast—\nSlumber will come soon\nWaking is past.\nCloud ships a-sailing\nUp in the sky\nLittle clouds floating\nEver so high—\nBaby will sail one\nWhen he is tall\nLanding in cloud land\nWith mother and all.\nLittle drops falling\nOut of the rain—\nEach to each calling\nAnd telling again\nTh£ story of heaven—\nWhere they were born—\nAnd of homes in the blossoms\nAnd tassels of corn.\nLittle winds blowing\nAnd curling around—\nPeeping in windows\nAnd sweeping the ground—\nCarrying messages—\nHigh in the air\nNever awaiting\nSleep anywhere.\nSleep, Baby, sleep—\nDo not waken—or fear\nThough the cradle is still now—\nMother is here."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1915-12-18-01-c005", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1915-12-18_01#c005", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1915-12-18_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "290", "page_fin": "291", "image_debut": 6, "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=bmtnaaq19151218-01.2.5", "titre_corps": "Charles Edison's Little Thimble Theatre", "titre_sommaire": "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": 6, "page_imprimee": "290", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151218-01.1.6", "debut_caractere": 804, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1059, "texte": "Charles Edison's Little Thimble Theatre\nA REGULAR Little Thimble Theatre? performance con-\ncluded on Tuesday, the 14th, a reception given by\nMrs. Thomas A. Edison to her friends in Charles Edison's\nLittle Thimble Theatre. Great Enthusiasm was evoked among"}, {"page_pdf": 7, "page_imprimee": "291", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151218-01.1.7", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2519, "texte": "those present by Charles Edison's speech, shortly before the\ncurtain rose, in which he set forth the ideas back of the Thimble\nTheatre: a chance for American musicians, singers and com-\nposers. After relating how Greenwich Village with its history\nand traditions seemed to create a fitting background for a free\nforum of American music and American interpreters of music,\nMr. Edison gave a short review of the work done during the\npast five months since its opening. He pointed out how many\nartists of promise and merit have found here a chance to play\nbefore an audience, and their way into the world of profes-\nsional competition. Just to be admitted into the competition is\nthe hardest of the hardships for the young composer, musician\nor singer.\nMiss Charlotte James played Bach's \"Organ Concerto\" and\ninterpreted McDowell's \"Eroica\" on the piano.\nThe program of Miss Dora Da Vera, the very promising singer,\nincluded \"Pleurez mes yeux\" from Massenet's opera \"Le\nCid.\"\nThe selection on the Diamond Disc showed the incomparable\nre-creation of piano and violin as well as of the human voice.\nThe records played were \"Durch die Waelder,\" von Weber,\n\"Addio del passato,\" from Verdi, Butterfly,\" from\nAndre Benoist, and \"Ave Maria,\" by Bach-Gounod.\nThis Week's Performances\nThursday, Friday and Saturday, Miss Alice G. Ryan, soprano,\na Brooklyn girl, will have her first appearance before a New\nYork public. Her aim is to become a concert singer. She has\nbeen trying for a high place in light comedy, but through lack\nof stage experience has not yet succeeded. She will sing \"The\nSwallows,\" by Del Acqua, \"Prelude,\" from \"Cycle of Life,\"\nby Ronald, and \"Where my Caravan Has Rested,\" by Hermann\nLoehr.\nA very unusual life-work has Mrs. Jennie Newgarden chosen\nfor her own. She wishes to specialize in singing for convales-\ncents and shut-in people who are fond of music but unable to\nattend concert or opera and therefore dependent upon the\nmusical talents of their relatives or friends to satisfy their\nmusical desires. She plays her own accompaniment or will\nsing with the phonograph wherever she finds one. Mrs. New-\ngarden is from Philadelphia, where she is well-known as a\nchurch singer. But this week's appearance will be her first\nacquaintance with a New York; public.\nGertrude Lee, interpretive dancer, daughter of the well-known\nsuffragist actress, Marie Nelson Lee, will render her own con-\nception of Schubert's \"Moments,\" Nevin's \"Mist-Maiden.\" A\nRussian folk dance will conclude her program."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1915-12-18-01-c006", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1915-12-18_01#c006", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1915-12-18_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "292", "page_fin": "293", "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=bmtnaaq19151218-01.2.6", "titre_corps": "Dead Men's Eyes", "titre_sommaire": "Dead Men's Eyes", "signature_source": "Guido Bruno", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 8, "page_imprimee": "292", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151218-01.1.8", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2847, "texte": "Dead Men's Eyes\nBy Guido Bruno\nEMPTY\nbottles cluttered the mantel. Books, newspapers\nand black bread were jumbled together on a chair\nnear the fireless grate. Cigarette! stumps, ashes and letters\ncovered the floor. Two gas-jets beside the dresser with the\nbroken looking-glass lighted the big, square room. Thrtfe\nwalls were bare, soot-stained and ugly. The one against\nwhich the easel leaned was covered with illustrations from\nmagazines, with color prints and with smeared half-tontf\nsketches. On a hook in the door hung a man's hat, an over-\ncoat and some men's underwear.\nMaxim Medak sat at the round table in the middle of the\nroom. His head was buried in his hands.\nIn the wooden bed which showed its torn straw mattress\nlay a dead man. The sheet that had covered the body was\ndragged aside. The trunk was coarsely bandaged. The ban-\ndages were stained and stiffened with drield blood. The head\nhad fallen to one side. The eyes stood open. They were\nglassy, big, blue bulbs opalescing in the yellow light of the?\ngas. Two deep wrinkles leading from his nostrils to the cor-\nners of his graciously curved lips made him look serious and\nregretful. The hair was black and close-cut. The ears were\nsmall and well-shaped. A new white shirt slit through the\ncenter of the back lay on the bed beside the corpse?.\nThe man at the table lifted his head. He looked at the\ncorpse. He looked a long time. He? approached the bed,\nunsteadily with heavy feet. He lifted the body and took up\nthe shirt. He slipped the lifeless arms into the sleeves of\nthe shirt. The head of the dead man tilted to the other side,\nfell back and the staring efyes fastened themselves on the\nceiling.\nMedak drew the sheet up over the bosom and shoulders\nof the dead man and sat on the bed beside him. He studied\nthe quie?t face before him feature by feature, trying to under-\nstand what had happened.\nHe remembered the dreary, foggy October afternoon he\nhad met him on the bench in Washington Square. He himself\nwas homele?ss, penniless. The other one, though he still had\nthe credit of his landlord, was not much better off. And they\nbegan talking. About hard luck, about beauty, about freedom,\nabout the deserts of Ukraina. They sang together in subdued\nvoices the long-forgotten, melancholy songs of their Cossack\nancestors. Finally it had grown dark, a fine rain was driz-\nzling and it was time to go home. He came home with the\nstranger and since that evening they had lived together and\nshared whatever they had.\nAnd one day Tomek sold a picture. He himself had never\ndone anything all that time, but Tomek never asked him a\nquestion. They sat together nights and days, damning life\nand women, denying God and truth. And drinking. Drink-\ning whiskey and rum. And one day their isolation was\nbroken by a blue-coated mail-man delivering a registered\nletter."}, {"page_pdf": 9, "page_imprimee": "293", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151218-01.1.9", "debut_caractere": 35, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2280, "texte": "Tomek read it He was very quiet for hours and then h«J\ntold the most impossible tales of his Paris life. And they\nlaughed and were hilariously happy. After that Tomek went\nout and bought more bottles. They we?re there on the mantel,\nempty.\n\"Let us drink—drink for days,\" Tomek had said. \"Let\nus be senseless and sleep.\"\nAnd they drank. At first absinthe mixed with water. And\nthen absinthe straight. And then whiskefy and rum again.\nAnd they talked and dozed and slept. He could not remem-\nber how many days.\nWhen he woke up Tomek was sitting in the chair at the\ntable, his head resting on his arms. He? was sobbing, crying\nlike a child.\n\"I was wrong,\" he said after looking for a long time at\nMedak, and his voice was the saddest voice that a human\never used. \"We all are wrong. There is truth. And there; is\nlove. But now it is too late.\"\nAnd he walked over to the bed and sank down on it. He\nbreathed heavily for a while and everything was quiet. They\nboth must have slept again.\nThe next Medak remembered was the discharge of a gun.\nIt sounded like an explosion of dynamite in the closed room.\nThe bed was soaked with blood. A lot of people came in. A\nphysician was called. The wound was washed and the band-\nage put on, but no one paid any attention to him lying on\nthe mattress in the? other corner of the room. A policeman\nwith some other officers came an. Tomek raised up in the\nbed and whispered something in the ear of the policeman.\nThen he fell back d^ad.\n\"Who is going to take charge of the body?\" some one\naskefd. Medak got up. He showed them that there was\nmoney in the empty coffee can. He! told them he was going\nto watch all night and to-morrow order a burial.\nIt would soon be to-morrow. The gas light had already\nbegun to look lifeless. Medak staggered over to the wash-\nstand and poured the pitcher of water over his head. Then\nhe turned back to the dead man.\nHe passed the broken looking-glass and stared at his own\nunshaven face with the dark rings under his eyes. Was that\nhimself?, He looked at his shirt that he had worn for days—\never since the picture was sold. His shoes were torn, his\ntrousers fringed. What had he done yesterday—last week—\nall those long months? How long must it have be?en? Four\nyears—impossible!"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1915-12-18-01-c007", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1915-12-18_01#c007", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1915-12-18_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "293", "page_fin": "295", "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=bmtnaaq19151218-01.2.7", "titre_corps": "Greenwich Village a la Town Topics", "titre_sommaire": "Greenwich Village a la Town Topics", "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": "293", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151218-01.1.9", "debut_caractere": 2282, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2635, "texte": "Among Our Aristocrats\nGreenwich Village a la Town Topics\nSquare; as a court-end, with a cordon of fami-\nlies heading an exclusive society of far-descended indi-\nviduals with the nouveant rieches clamoring for admission to the\ncharmed circle, has lately been the misleading motif of certain\nmagazine articles. I say misleading, for there exists on longer"}, {"page_pdf": 10, "page_imprimee": "294", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151218-01.1.10", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 3102, "texte": "a definite society made up of old families in New York City.\nAnd such romancing is still further fallacious, because Washing-\nton Square with its section of Fifth Avenue up as far as\nTwelfth Street, instead of pluming itself on a social autonomy\nit enjoyed more than a quarter of a century ago, is in a brown\nstudy how to conserve itself as a residential centre. In the\nascending scale of fashion the Washington Square neighborhood\nranks only second to the upper East side fashionable quarter\nand certain families whom one supposed to be riveted to this\nlocality are harboring upper Park Avenue apartment house\nambitions.\nThe solution of the problem is simple to one who knows the\ntrend of society combined with real estate common sense:\nmake it a Latin quarter and a moderate priced apartment house\nsection of the City. Of course, its charm will continue to be\nenhanced by the presence of as many of the old mansions as\nthe owners have means and inclination to keep up. But it is\nalready noticeable that when one of these time-honored abodes\nis vacated, it grows increasingly difficult to find an occupant.\nIn such instances a mansion should be reconstructed into a little\napartment house with perhaps one or two additional stories.\nA certain real estate firm, next Spring, purposes to develop\nthe General Sickles corner of Fifth Avenue and Ninth Street,\nin a manner that will tend, in an admirable way, to conserve\nthe residential character of the neighborhood. They propose\nto erect a handsome apartment house a dozen storie's high, built\non Colonial lines somewhat after the fashion of the new uptown\nColony Club. The main feature of the undertaking, however,\nis that the apartments, although the rooms will be exceptionally\nlarge, will be at moderate rentals—from nine hundred to eighteen\nhundred dollars per annum. Most of this property belonged to\nthe March Estate to which Mr. Clement C. March, of Wash-\nington Square? North, an old beau at Mrs. Astor's balls, who\nlives in Europe a great deal, is related.\nTo begin at the 112 oundation of things: to save the neighborhood,\nseveral of the old rookeries on Washington Square South, should\nbe torn down at once and replaced by apartment houses at\nmoderate rentals. The Dimock and Eno Estates own a large\nfrontage on Washington Square South. This architectural rescue\nwork there and in lowefr Fifth Avenue should be done immedi-\nately, as there are not only waiting lists of tenants for such\napartments, but in only a few years from over-crowding further\nup town, trade will begin to invade this choice neighborhood\nwith a rush, and the most redoubtable fortifications against\ntrade are apartment houses.\nApropos of our Latin quarter, which is steadily being aug-\nmented by artists and literary people of note. The studio-\nalteration of a private house on the South side of West Ninth\nStreet between Fifth and Sixth Avenue, is an excellent model\nfor architects. But far and away the most potent aid the Latin\nquarter project has received in more than a generation is that\nproposed by the Sailor's Snug Harbor corporation, which has"}, {"page_pdf": 11, "page_imprimee": "295", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151218-01.1.11", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1107, "texte": "excellent real estate common sense. The trustees expect to\ntear down nearly the whole row of old shops in East Eighth\nStreet on the South side? beginning at the rear of Eagan's board-\ning house at the corner of Fifth Avenue and Eighth Street and\nrunning nearly over to University Place, erecting studios in\ntheir place.\nSo away with this quarter of a century anachronism—fustian\nof a coterie of newspaper and magazine writers who know\nnothing of society from the inside and who never owned a ten\nfoot plot of Manhattan real estate—about Washington Square\nas a fashionable court-end. Let everyone who can muster the\nrequisite capital, go to work at once and build an apartment\nhouse as high as Hainan's gallows, and save the neighborhood.\nSuch sporadic instances as a member of the Drexel family\ntaking a house in Washington Square West, or the Lydig lease\nof the Serena Rhinelander's homestead are simply sporadic and\nnot indicative of the trend of the times. Look at the number\nof empty houses in lower Fifth Avenue and the Square. The\nLydigs for one reason, wanted to be near their church."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1915-12-18-01-c008", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1915-12-18_01#c008", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1915-12-18_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "295", "page_fin": "296", "image_debut": 11, "image_fin": 12, "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=bmtnaaq19151218-01.2.8", "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": 11, "page_imprimee": "295", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151218-01.1.11", "debut_caractere": 1109, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2904, "texte": "In Our Village\nIF it were not for the hardship of crossing the Square before\nthe Slreet Cleaning Department arrived at the conclusion\nthat snow is falling in the big cities for one purpose only:\nto be scooped up in the centre of the street and to be carried\naway to a mysterious somewhere, even spring and summer in\ntiheir most gorgeous holiday attire could not offer as splendid\na picture as Washington Square a few nights ago with the\nwhite fluffy snow upon the grounds, upon the black naked\nbranches of the trees; snow crystals about to dissolve but\nglistening in the yellowish light of the electric arcs, on benches\nand iron railings, the paths and sidewalks glittering and in-\nviting in their smoothness, to happy adventurous girls and\nboys. The skies dark blue like velvet strewn with sparkling\ndiamonds, far back beyond white and red house-tops, the Wool-\nworth Building, in its gigantic daintiness and its electric splendor,\nand then that big electric cross on the tower of the Judson.\nBut that Street Cleaning Department was quickly at work,\nand before the snow crystals had had a real chance to take a\nplace among their millions of brothers and sisters after a long\ntrip from high above, they were mercilessly piled up into\nheaps, they lost their pure whiteness and after a short experience\non earth had made them black and soiled, they were hurried\non wagons and on auto trucks to their last resting-place. But\nnow we know that the trees in the forests are loaded down with\nsnow and bent under the weight of icicles, that frost is form-\ning ice flowers upon the windows, that the time of sleds has\narrived and that Christmas will be soon the Christmas of\nlast year.\nAs Christmas means for a lot of us buying gifts, it means\nfor a lot of us selling them. The studios in the village are"}, {"page_pdf": 12, "page_imprimee": "296", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151218-01.1.12", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1973, "texte": "quite busy places and a good many of those ominous figures\nlookefd forward to by all artists and described so well by O.\nHenry, \"Maecenas' of Art\" have made their appearance.\nThe works of art which are on exhibition at present at Mrs.\nHarry Payne Whitney's studio in MacDougal Alley will be trans-\nferred this week to Ellis Island and will be exhibited in the\nimmigration building. Mr. Sherman, of the Immigration Depart-\nment, a villager, among whose duties it is to entertain the\naliens who are detained at Ellis Island, said that a permanent\nexhibition of works of art will be? one of the future attrac-\ntions of the Island. Mrs. Whitney's exhibit is the first of the\nart offerings America will grant to those whom she does not\nwelcome to her shores.\nNot less than eight artists of Greenwich Village will be\nrepresented in the book-plate exhibit of the American Book-\nPlate Society, to be held in January, in Columbia University.\nTacked to the walls of Bruno's Garret are forty-two pastels\nwater colors and drawings of Ilonka Karasz, and will be on\nexhibition until January 4th.\nMonday, the 20th of December, Mr. Heroichiro K. Myderco,\nthe American-Japanese novelist and writer of short stories,\nwill read a selection from his \"Phantasies.\" The! reading will\nstart at eigth p. m.and you are invited to be present.\nOn Saturday, the 25th, at four o'clock will be a Christmas\ncelebration in Bruno's Garret for the children of Greenwich\nVillage. A big Christmas trefe, with lots of nice things hang-\ning from its branches and an abundance of toys have been\nprovided, through the kindness of a children-loving couple,\nwho do not wish to have their names made known.\nSadakichi Hartmann will establish after his return from a\nlecture trip to Atlanta, Georgia, in the Ferrer School a dramatic\ncentre and he will stage a few of his realistic dramas. Sadakichi\nwill give a reading of his dramas \"Christ\" and \"Buddha\" in\nBruno's Garret in the first week of January."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1915-12-18-01-c009", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1915-12-18_01#c009", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1915-12-18_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "296", "page_fin": "299", "image_debut": 12, "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=bmtnaaq19151218-01.2.9", "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": "296", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151218-01.1.12", "debut_caractere": 1975, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2727, "texte": "Books and Magazines of the Week\n•pHAT books mean really no more to the average individual\nthan his newspaper or his magazine means to him is\nindisputably evident in these days before Christmas. Read-\ning papers and magazines is a habit and to buy the same\npapers and too look for the same names which are featured\non the covets or on subway advertisements is accessory to\nthe habit. But habits are not pleasure nor friendship. I\nalways wondered for whom the lists of \"the three hundred\nbest Christmas books\" or \"books mostly appropriate for\nChristmas gifts\" are compiled. A walk to our book stores or\nthrough the book rooms of our department stores will prove\nthat men and women are actually selecting books from these\nlists as gifts for their beloved."}, {"page_pdf": 13, "page_imprimee": "297", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151218-01.1.13", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 3015, "texte": "No better gift and no gift that is more intimate can we\ngive as a token of friendship then a book, but it reminds\nme of the man who is living in Cairo and leaves his order\nin Tiffany's to send presents at Christmas to a list of his\nfriends not to exceed such and such an amount, if I think\nof the man who sends to his friend a book upon the recom-\nmendation of a professional compiler of holiday book lists or\nof the clerk in the book store \"who knows To forward a\nbook which you have not read to your sweetheart, or to lay\nit under the Christmas tree for your wife or for your child\nis synonymous with introducing a stranger as a_ friend to those\nwho will take him in as your friend; who will open to him\nheart and home because of the love and the esteem they have\nfor you. You who are so careful not to identify yourself\nin business with the man whom you \"did not look up,\" you\nwho would not dream of signing a note upon the recommenda-\ntion of an unknown or of cashing the cheque which bears as\nsignature—a mere name, you will not hesitate to select a book\nfrom one of those lists or take for granted the word of the\nbook store clerk. How dicriminating you are before signing\nthe guest card for a new acquaintance in your club! but a\nbook .... anything in good-looking leather binding or\nwith a name as author which you have heard somewhere,\neven if you do not know where, you will accept readily and\npass on to those whom you love best.\nOur grandfathers were old-fashioned conservatives. Friend-\nships in their days were not closed as easily as to-day. But\nalso not dissolved as a mere incident. Publishers seventy-five?\nyears ago were discriminating in their acceptance of new\nauthors and in the material they printed. They knew that their\nreaders would use even more discrimination. To read a new\nbook was then an event in a man's life. If a pleasant event,\nhe would make a mental note and when Christmas came or a\nbirthday he would purchase another copy and mark pages or\npassages, he would express his sentiments on the fly-leaf, he\nwould wrap it up carefully and bring it, if possible, himself to its\nnew possessor. We are not living in an age of hand-knitted\nstockings. Our girls would laugh at the idea of sewing shirts\nfor their men friends. Even embroidered handkerchiefs are\nout of fashion. But a book should not and cannot lose its\nsoul. It is a live thing that the clerk wraps up for us or sends\nwith a gift card to an indicated address. It was part of a\nman before he wrote it and it will be part of another man\nafter he has read it. You or I who bestow the gift will be\nresponsible for whatever it may mean to our friend.\nTherefore: read the books which you will send as gifts\nto your friends. Read them as acquaintances until you know\nyou would wish them for your friends. Compare these book-\nfriends with your friends to whom you wish to introduce\nthem and if you think that they can be friends too, take upon\nyou the pleasures but also the responsibilities of an introduc-\ntion."}, {"page_pdf": 14, "page_imprimee": "298", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151218-01.1.14", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2566, "texte": "Bulletin New York Public Library\nAn interesting picture! of \"Berlin and the Prussian Court\nin 1798\" is presented in the journal of Thomas Boylston Adams,\nsecretary to the United States legation in Berlin, edited from\nthe original manuscript in the New York Public Library, by\nVictor Hugu Paltsits, keepe?r of manuscripts.\nThomas Boylston Adams, was a graduate of Harvard in the\nClass of 1790. He was the youngest of President Adams' five\nchildren, born at Quincy, Mass., and representing Quincy from\n1809-1811 in the legislature of his home state. President Adams\nsent in the nomination of his son as secretary to the legation\nat Berlin, and it took quite a while until the opposition to\nthis nomination was overthrown. The attempt was made three\ntimes to prevent confirmation on the grounds \"that it was un-\nnecessary to establish a permanent minister at the court of\nPrussia.\"\nThe same issue contains an extensive bibliography of books\nrelating to prints and their production.\nGood Words\n\"A paper dedicated to the welfare of the men in prison\"\nbrings a lot of cheefr once every month to our desk. Its\neditor, who needs not to apologise for make-up and contents\nof his little paper, is evidently not a stranger to Washington\nSquare and to Greenwich Village. Here are the closing lines\nof a recent letter he wrote me from his involuntary residence\nin Atlanta, Georgia:\n\"Anyway, there goes the strident-voiced gong, \"clang, clang,\nclang, clang, ten to ten,\" and when the minute hand points to\nthe zenith, out go the lights. As I lay down my pen the wester-\ning moon shines palely between the bars into my \"apartment,\"\neven as she is now shining into your garret window, my dear\nGuido, and even as she is adding her waning radiance to the\neffulgent arcs in the Square. So to you, Guido, and to thd\nbenched flotsam of the Square, and to you, weariest persusers\nof this screed, gute nacht! Und suesse Traeumlen\"\nWalhalla\nMr. Lohr, the editor of this new weekly, publishes in his\ncurrent issue the last poems of Ellegaard Ellerbeck, the\nGerman poet who died in the trenches a year ago. Mr. Eller-\nbeck, who visited America just before the outbreak of the war,\nsent the poem from the Franco-Belgian frontier to Mr. Lohr,\none day before his death.\nThe Miscellany\nThe December issue of this quarterly devoted to Book-\nplates and The Book Beautiful, contains Edmund Hort New's\naccount of the Loggan prints. \"Ancient paper making gives\nthe general characteristics of hand-made paper, with an ex-\nplanation of the methods used in its making in the olden\ntimes.\""}, {"page_pdf": 15, "page_imprimee": "299", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151218-01.1.15", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1242, "texte": "Poetry, A Magazine of Verse\nThis pioneer of American poetry and the new poetry in the\nEnglish language in general registers, under its heading \"Our\nContemporaries,\" a gentle but well-measured kick against\nWilliam Stanley Braithwaite, poetry editor of the Boston\nTranscript, and compiler of \"The Anthology of American\nMagazine Verse.\" While Mr. Braithwaite listed this year,\nfor the first time, the poems which appeared during the last\ntwelve-month in POETRY in his \"Review of Poetry of the\nYear,\" in the Transcript of October 30th, \"he does not men-\ntion the magazine or the work it has done for the art\" is the\ngrievance of Miss Monroe, POETRY'S editor.\nPoetry Book Shop Chap Books\nHarold Monro, editor of the late \"Poetry and Drama,\" the\nexcellent quarterly which stopped publication at the outbreak\nof the war, and founder and proprietor of that unique Poetry\nBook Shop in London, where the poetry is read to one before\nbeing sold, issued during the last year a series of chap books.\n\"Songs of the War,\" by Maurice Hewlett, one of them, has\nappeared in its second print. The booklets are worth while\nreading and especially those written under the war impressions\nof last year are a fair exchange for their price, six pence."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1915-12-18-01-c010", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1915-12-18_01#c010", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1915-12-18_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "299", "page_fin": "299", "image_debut": 15, "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=bmtnaaq19151218-01.2.10", "titre_corps": "An Ode To Spring", "titre_sommaire": "An Ode To Spring", "signature_source": "Tom Sleeper", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 15, "page_imprimee": "299", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151218-01.1.15", "debut_caractere": 1244, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2008, "texte": "An Ode To Spring\nTom Sleeper.\nWritten after this Year's First Snow.\nTHE bloomin' buds are bustin' on all the bally trees\nAnd the robins come a wheezin' and a snortin' down\nthe breeze\nThe donkeys are a brayin' and the jays be?gin to sing\n'Cause they know without our tellin' 'em\nIt's Spring—Sweet Spring.\nThe fishes in the ocean are a jumpin' and a splashin'\nAnd the water bugs are actin' in a most peculiar fashion\nThe cats are yowlin' choruses a sittin' in a ring\n'Cause they know without our tellin' 'em\nIt's Spring—Sweet Spring.\nThe mushrooms in the cellar'll be blooming pretty soon\nAnd the neighbor's puppies whinin' and a yapping at the moon\nThe April skies are leakin' and a welttin' everything\nSo come on and join the chorus—Here's to\nSpring, Sweet Spring."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1915-12-18-01-c011", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1915-12-18_01#c011", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1915-12-18_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "299", "page_fin": "300", "image_debut": 15, "image_fin": 16, "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=bmtnaaq19151218-01.2.11", "titre_corps": "Babies' Thoughts", "titre_sommaire": "Babies' Thoughts", "signature_source": "D. Molby", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 15, "page_imprimee": "299", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151218-01.1.15", "debut_caractere": 2010, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2211, "texte": "Babies' Thoughts\nBy D. Molby\na baby is first born it doesn't know a thing. It\ncan expand its chest so as to take? in air and it can contract\nit again so as to force the air out, but it doesn't know how"}, {"page_pdf": 16, "page_imprimee": "300", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151218-01.1.16", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1332, "texte": "it does it. When it is awake it can see that there is something\naround it, but it doesn't know what. t Everything is strange\nto it because it has nevtfr seen anything before. Its father\nand mother caress it a great deal, but it can't it\nbecause it doesn't know who they are or what they are talking\nabout.\nIf it has a feeling of distress in its stomach it will probably\ncry, but it doesn't know that it is hungry or that a cry is\nthe proper way to make known that something is the*\" matter.\nIt cries, and its mother doesn't like to hear it cry so she tries\nto find out what it wants. If she can find out it makes her\nfeel awfully proud because she thinks then that the baby knew\nwhat was the matter with it and though it only cried, she\nunderstood.\nAll the time that the baby is awake it be thinking\nabout something, but, as it doesn't know anything, it can't think.\nBefore it really knows anything it must have sensations and\na great many of them. It must compare them in mind\nuntil it can see the relation of one thing to another. It is just\nlike deciphering a lot of heiroglyphics that it doesn't know\nthe? key to, and it may take a couple of years for it to realize\neven that there is a world and that it is a person living in\nit.\nBut when the child realizes this, there will be something for\nhim to think about."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1915-12-18-01-c012", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1915-12-18_01#c012", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1915-12-18_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "301", "page_fin": "301", "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=bmtnaaq19151218-01.2.12", "titre_corps": "Jenny Lind's \"Inflammatus\"—Stabat Mater", "titre_sommaire": "Jenny Lind's \"Inflammatus\"—Stabat Mater", "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": "301", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151218-01.1.17", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1455, "texte": "Jenny Lind's \"Inflammatus\"—Stabat Mater\nJenny Lind lived during this period of her life at No. 42\nWashington Square.\nIN September, 1850, Castle Garden had opened its doors to\nthe wonder of the age—to Jenny Lind, the queen of th5 p. m.\n8:15 p. m.\nSaturday, 2:00 p. m.\n8:15 p. m.\nChildren's Hour and Disc Concert\non the Square.\nA little Pilgrimage to the home\nand workshop of Stephen\nCollins Foster.\nPerformance at the Little Thimble\nTheatre.\nPerformance at the Little Thimble\nTheatre.\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.\nWho Wrote Our National Home Songs?\n\"Way Down upon the Swanee\nRiver,\" \"My Old Kentucky Home,\"\n\"Old Folks at Home.\" Do you\nknow that they were created and\nwritten by Stephen Collins Foster?\nIn a Dingy Bowery Grocery Store?"}]}], "pages_ocr_originales": [{"page_pdf": 1, "page_imprimee": "couv. 1", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151218-01.1.1", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\nEDITED BY GUIDO BRUNO IN HIS GARRET\nON WASHINGTON SQUARE\nFive Cents December 18th, 1915\n\nIlonka Katasz"}, {"page_pdf": 2, "page_imprimee": "[286]", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151218-01.1.2", "texte": "TO YOU, GENTLE READER:\nIf you do not happen to be a subscriber and\nyou wish to receive the next issue of Bruno's\nWeekly, send one dollar. Today.\nAfter January first, the subscription price will\nbe two dollars.\nGuido Bruno in His Garret, Situated at\n58 Washington Square, South, N. Y C."}, {"page_pdf": 3, "page_imprimee": "[287]", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151218-01.1.3", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\nEdited by Guido Bruno in His Garret on Washington Square\nNO. 22\nDECEMBER 18th, MCMXV\nVol, 1\nCopyright 1915 by Guido Bruno\n\nLetter with Sketch by Remington, as it appeared in Mr.\nMadigan's Late \"Autograph.\"\n\nHenry James In Greenwich Village\n\nTo me it has always seemed that there tc one class in New\nYork that sits guard over a past full of romantic and\nquaint color. This is what I suppose must be called, conventionally,\nthe Knickerbocker class—not those uncommonly proud Vans\nand Vanders who stalk loftily through Mr. Augustin Daly's\nAmerican vaudevilles from the German, but the agreeable re?lics\nof the simple provincial society of two generations ago. A\nclass not unthrifty, not extravagant, yet not well fitted to\nmake or to hoard money, the!y live in a golden mean of com-\nfort, perhaps even in an atmosphere of mild luxury, on the\nborders of the world of fashion. They know little of Kensing-\nton stitch or of Eastern-woven portieres: their parlors are\nupholstered in damask and their bed-rooms in chintz. They\nire outdazzled by the glare and glitter with which the newer\nfolk of vaster fortunes surround themselves. Living mostly\nupon the rentals of shops and warehouses built upon what\nwere onc£ their country-places, they draw year by year more\nclosely to themselves, forming a sort of little Faubourg St.\nGermain, a colony of their own, among a faster-going people"}, {"page_pdf": 4, "page_imprimee": "288", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151218-01.1.4", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nwho respect them and despise their surroundings. It is a\ncolony of romantic old beaux and faded old bdles; where\nyoung faces are rare, and To-day somehow seems Half\nyesterday.\nThis is the world which interested Mr. Hefnry James when he\nwrote \"Washington Square.\" But Mr. Jamefs had but a mild\naesthetic sympathy with it; and, in fact, his Washington Square\nmight as well have been the smokiest of sparrow-haunted\nLondon parks as that fair old spot that was once the Potter's\nField, and then the Parade Ground, and where, for many years,\nold Pop Willis (a brother of the poet, and he was proud of\nit) ruled, majestic and many-buttoned, over nurse-maids and\ngrass-plot-invading children.\nTruly, it were but a dull life to chronicle now, but it had\nits youth. You may listen to some? gracious and garrulous old\nlady, with hair in puffs whiter than her widow's cap, purring\nover her reminiscences, until fancy begins to mimic memory,\nand to vivify for you some few hours of the dead days; and you\nalmost believe that you yourself were at that fine; party in\nChambers street, where they had tea and cakes for the ladies,\nand sherry,—no, sherry-wine, if you please?,— and where the\ngentlemen wrote verses in their hostess' album. And you may\nsee the gentle old gossip, a bright blue-eyed girl, with brown\nhair done up in a knot ala Grecque high on her pretty nape; you\nmay see her tie her fleecy hood under her chin, when tefn\no'clock strikes, and set out with mamma and papa—no \"mommer\"\nand \"popper\" then, the? gods be thanked!—for her home in\nGreenwich Village or Chelsea, to lay her innocent head upon\nher pillow and blush in her dreams with thinking of that\nyoung man whose hair was curly, whose cheeks were red,\nwhose black satin stock could not dim the glory of the New-\ngate collar, which the old people thought rakish and scarcely\nChristian.\nIs this harking back too far ? Go up to the Latin Quarter\nof New York, between Fourth and Thirteefnth streets and\nSixth and Second avenues. Go into any street and pick out the\nfamily mansion that was once the pride of the block. It is\nnow a cheap lodging-house?. Clinched with nails are the great\nmahogany folding-doors that in the old years were never\nclosed between room and room. In the parlor tinkles and\ncrashes a cheap grand piano, where once stood Gertrude's\ninlaid Broadwood—the? little spinet-like affair over which her\nlover leaned when she played—the Battle of Prague, was it?\nUpstairs is her own room, where she stood, now white and\nred, in that awful five minutes before they called her down\nto be wed, while her mother strained her to her heart in\nconvulsive embraces, and then held he?r off at arm's length,\nlest a tear should fall on the snowy satin. There is a young\ncouple to-night in the room that was so dainty then, that is\nso shabby now. A young couple from England it is. They\nsit hand in hand before the un-homelike anthracite fire. They\nare having a hard time of it, waiting for the business men"}, {"page_pdf": 5, "page_imprimee": "289", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151218-01.1.5", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nof New York to awake to a sense of their own needs and\nmarch in a procession to beg for the services of that able and\nhighly-recommended young graduate of Cambridge, who has\ncome to make his fortune in a new country, where, of course,\nskilled labor is at a premium. She is trying to cheer him up,\nas young wives will. Their time will come, she tells him—\n\"for I'm sure there is nothing they can do here that you\ncouldn't do, dear.\" In the next room sit two young Bohemians,\nsmoking bad cigarettes, discussing the best place to get cheap\ndinners and the best plac£ to sell great poems, incidentally\nsettling questions of art and literature that have bothered\nthe world these many years, and casting glances of not ungener-\nous calculation at the €?ver-lessening amber beer in the cracked\npitcher between them. It would not much disturb their stout\nand hopeful young spirits if they knew that in that very\nchamber the first master of the house once on a time lay defad.\nNay, I think they would only write poems about it, could they\nfancy him stretched out there, a day's growth of gray beard\non his stern old chin, pointing at the ceiling from out the\nfolds of the white handkerchief, all the strangeness and distance\nof de?ath setting the familiar face apart from the household\nheart.\nBut the readers of the present demand a novel of the present?\nSo be it. Let the deodorized American Zola go down into\nthe old Ninth Ward any Sunday, and watch the solid burgesses\nheading their family processions churchward, as staidly as\nthough they had not beefn in their youth, every man of them,\nmembers of the volunteer fire department, and had not broken\nthe laws of God and the heads of their fellow-men whenever\nthety got a chance.\nThis is the true bourgeois class of New York, made up of\neminently respectable, commonplace, well-to-do, narrow-minded\nmen and women, among whom, of course, there must be,\nherg and there, a few young hearts fluttering with nobler ambi-\ntions, a few finer natures yearning for a finer and higher life.\nLet this deodorized Zola record the fortunes of some Green-\nwich Dorothy whose ideas of life wefre something too delicate\nfor her plain-going elders, who \"loved, maybe, perfume, soft\ntextures, lace, a half-lit room\"—some\n\"Poor child—with heart the downiest nest\nOf warmest instincts unconfest,\nSoft, callow things that vaguely felt\nThe breeze caress, the sunlight melt\nBut yet, by some obscure decree,\nUnwinged from birth.\"\nLet him record the history of one such, \"far too subtly\ngraced\" for her surroundings, who, more? lucky than her sisters,\nfound a way to a wider, livlier, and more cultured world; and\nlet him tell what breath of her own she brought into its hot-\nhouse atmosphere.\n\nH. C. Bunner."}, {"page_pdf": 6, "page_imprimee": "290", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151218-01.1.6", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nCloud Ships A-sailing\nG. G.\nTo a Little Newcomer in Washington Square\ngLEEP, Baby, sleep-\nClose thine eyes—\nThe cradle is falling\nDown from the skies—\nMother will rock it\nSlowly or fast—\nSlumber will come soon\nWaking is past.\nCloud ships a-sailing\nUp in the sky\nLittle clouds floating\nEver so high—\nBaby will sail one\nWhen he is tall\nLanding in cloud land\nWith mother and all.\nLittle drops falling\nOut of the rain—\nEach to each calling\nAnd telling again\nTh£ story of heaven—\nWhere they were born—\nAnd of homes in the blossoms\nAnd tassels of corn.\nLittle winds blowing\nAnd curling around—\nPeeping in windows\nAnd sweeping the ground—\nCarrying messages—\nHigh in the air\nNever awaiting\nSleep anywhere.\nSleep, Baby, sleep—\nDo not waken—or fear\nThough the cradle is still now—\nMother is here.\n\nCharles Edison's Little Thimble Theatre\nA REGULAR Little Thimble Theatre? performance con-\ncluded on Tuesday, the 14th, a reception given by\nMrs. Thomas A. Edison to her friends in Charles Edison's\nLittle Thimble Theatre. Great Enthusiasm was evoked among"}, {"page_pdf": 7, "page_imprimee": "291", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151218-01.1.7", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nthose present by Charles Edison's speech, shortly before the\ncurtain rose, in which he set forth the ideas back of the Thimble\nTheatre: a chance for American musicians, singers and com-\nposers. After relating how Greenwich Village with its history\nand traditions seemed to create a fitting background for a free\nforum of American music and American interpreters of music,\nMr. Edison gave a short review of the work done during the\npast five months since its opening. He pointed out how many\nartists of promise and merit have found here a chance to play\nbefore an audience, and their way into the world of profes-\nsional competition. Just to be admitted into the competition is\nthe hardest of the hardships for the young composer, musician\nor singer.\nMiss Charlotte James played Bach's \"Organ Concerto\" and\ninterpreted McDowell's \"Eroica\" on the piano.\nThe program of Miss Dora Da Vera, the very promising singer,\nincluded \"Pleurez mes yeux\" from Massenet's opera \"Le\nCid.\"\nThe selection on the Diamond Disc showed the incomparable\nre-creation of piano and violin as well as of the human voice.\nThe records played were \"Durch die Waelder,\" von Weber,\n\"Addio del passato,\" from Verdi, Butterfly,\" from\nAndre Benoist, and \"Ave Maria,\" by Bach-Gounod.\nThis Week's Performances\nThursday, Friday and Saturday, Miss Alice G. Ryan, soprano,\na Brooklyn girl, will have her first appearance before a New\nYork public. Her aim is to become a concert singer. She has\nbeen trying for a high place in light comedy, but through lack\nof stage experience has not yet succeeded. She will sing \"The\nSwallows,\" by Del Acqua, \"Prelude,\" from \"Cycle of Life,\"\nby Ronald, and \"Where my Caravan Has Rested,\" by Hermann\nLoehr.\nA very unusual life-work has Mrs. Jennie Newgarden chosen\nfor her own. She wishes to specialize in singing for convales-\ncents and shut-in people who are fond of music but unable to\nattend concert or opera and therefore dependent upon the\nmusical talents of their relatives or friends to satisfy their\nmusical desires. She plays her own accompaniment or will\nsing with the phonograph wherever she finds one. Mrs. New-\ngarden is from Philadelphia, where she is well-known as a\nchurch singer. But this week's appearance will be her first\nacquaintance with a New York; public.\nGertrude Lee, interpretive dancer, daughter of the well-known\nsuffragist actress, Marie Nelson Lee, will render her own con-\nception of Schubert's \"Moments,\" Nevin's \"Mist-Maiden.\" A\nRussian folk dance will conclude her program."}, {"page_pdf": 8, "page_imprimee": "292", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151218-01.1.8", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nDead Men's Eyes\nBy Guido Bruno\nEMPTY\nbottles cluttered the mantel. Books, newspapers\nand black bread were jumbled together on a chair\nnear the fireless grate. Cigarette! stumps, ashes and letters\ncovered the floor. Two gas-jets beside the dresser with the\nbroken looking-glass lighted the big, square room. Thrtfe\nwalls were bare, soot-stained and ugly. The one against\nwhich the easel leaned was covered with illustrations from\nmagazines, with color prints and with smeared half-tontf\nsketches. On a hook in the door hung a man's hat, an over-\ncoat and some men's underwear.\nMaxim Medak sat at the round table in the middle of the\nroom. His head was buried in his hands.\nIn the wooden bed which showed its torn straw mattress\nlay a dead man. The sheet that had covered the body was\ndragged aside. The trunk was coarsely bandaged. The ban-\ndages were stained and stiffened with drield blood. The head\nhad fallen to one side. The eyes stood open. They were\nglassy, big, blue bulbs opalescing in the yellow light of the?\ngas. Two deep wrinkles leading from his nostrils to the cor-\nners of his graciously curved lips made him look serious and\nregretful. The hair was black and close-cut. The ears were\nsmall and well-shaped. A new white shirt slit through the\ncenter of the back lay on the bed beside the corpse?.\nThe man at the table lifted his head. He looked at the\ncorpse. He looked a long time. He? approached the bed,\nunsteadily with heavy feet. He lifted the body and took up\nthe shirt. He slipped the lifeless arms into the sleeves of\nthe shirt. The head of the dead man tilted to the other side,\nfell back and the staring efyes fastened themselves on the\nceiling.\nMedak drew the sheet up over the bosom and shoulders\nof the dead man and sat on the bed beside him. He studied\nthe quie?t face before him feature by feature, trying to under-\nstand what had happened.\nHe remembered the dreary, foggy October afternoon he\nhad met him on the bench in Washington Square. He himself\nwas homele?ss, penniless. The other one, though he still had\nthe credit of his landlord, was not much better off. And they\nbegan talking. About hard luck, about beauty, about freedom,\nabout the deserts of Ukraina. They sang together in subdued\nvoices the long-forgotten, melancholy songs of their Cossack\nancestors. Finally it had grown dark, a fine rain was driz-\nzling and it was time to go home. He came home with the\nstranger and since that evening they had lived together and\nshared whatever they had.\nAnd one day Tomek sold a picture. He himself had never\ndone anything all that time, but Tomek never asked him a\nquestion. They sat together nights and days, damning life\nand women, denying God and truth. And drinking. Drink-\ning whiskey and rum. And one day their isolation was\nbroken by a blue-coated mail-man delivering a registered\nletter."}, {"page_pdf": 9, "page_imprimee": "293", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151218-01.1.9", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n(To be continued).\n\nTomek read it He was very quiet for hours and then h«J\ntold the most impossible tales of his Paris life. And they\nlaughed and were hilariously happy. After that Tomek went\nout and bought more bottles. They we?re there on the mantel,\nempty.\n\"Let us drink—drink for days,\" Tomek had said. \"Let\nus be senseless and sleep.\"\nAnd they drank. At first absinthe mixed with water. And\nthen absinthe straight. And then whiskefy and rum again.\nAnd they talked and dozed and slept. He could not remem-\nber how many days.\nWhen he woke up Tomek was sitting in the chair at the\ntable, his head resting on his arms. He? was sobbing, crying\nlike a child.\n\"I was wrong,\" he said after looking for a long time at\nMedak, and his voice was the saddest voice that a human\never used. \"We all are wrong. There is truth. And there; is\nlove. But now it is too late.\"\nAnd he walked over to the bed and sank down on it. He\nbreathed heavily for a while and everything was quiet. They\nboth must have slept again.\nThe next Medak remembered was the discharge of a gun.\nIt sounded like an explosion of dynamite in the closed room.\nThe bed was soaked with blood. A lot of people came in. A\nphysician was called. The wound was washed and the band-\nage put on, but no one paid any attention to him lying on\nthe mattress in the? other corner of the room. A policeman\nwith some other officers came an. Tomek raised up in the\nbed and whispered something in the ear of the policeman.\nThen he fell back d^ad.\n\"Who is going to take charge of the body?\" some one\naskefd. Medak got up. He showed them that there was\nmoney in the empty coffee can. He! told them he was going\nto watch all night and to-morrow order a burial.\nIt would soon be to-morrow. The gas light had already\nbegun to look lifeless. Medak staggered over to the wash-\nstand and poured the pitcher of water over his head. Then\nhe turned back to the dead man.\nHe passed the broken looking-glass and stared at his own\nunshaven face with the dark rings under his eyes. Was that\nhimself?, He looked at his shirt that he had worn for days—\never since the picture was sold. His shoes were torn, his\ntrousers fringed. What had he done yesterday—last week—\nall those long months? How long must it have be?en? Four\nyears—impossible!\n\nAmong Our Aristocrats\nGreenwich Village a la Town Topics\nSquare; as a court-end, with a cordon of fami-\nlies heading an exclusive society of far-descended indi-\nviduals with the nouveant rieches clamoring for admission to the\ncharmed circle, has lately been the misleading motif of certain\nmagazine articles. I say misleading, for there exists on longer"}, {"page_pdf": 10, "page_imprimee": "294", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151218-01.1.10", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\na definite society made up of old families in New York City.\nAnd such romancing is still further fallacious, because Washing-\nton Square with its section of Fifth Avenue up as far as\nTwelfth Street, instead of pluming itself on a social autonomy\nit enjoyed more than a quarter of a century ago, is in a brown\nstudy how to conserve itself as a residential centre. In the\nascending scale of fashion the Washington Square neighborhood\nranks only second to the upper East side fashionable quarter\nand certain families whom one supposed to be riveted to this\nlocality are harboring upper Park Avenue apartment house\nambitions.\nThe solution of the problem is simple to one who knows the\ntrend of society combined with real estate common sense:\nmake it a Latin quarter and a moderate priced apartment house\nsection of the City. Of course, its charm will continue to be\nenhanced by the presence of as many of the old mansions as\nthe owners have means and inclination to keep up. But it is\nalready noticeable that when one of these time-honored abodes\nis vacated, it grows increasingly difficult to find an occupant.\nIn such instances a mansion should be reconstructed into a little\napartment house with perhaps one or two additional stories.\nA certain real estate firm, next Spring, purposes to develop\nthe General Sickles corner of Fifth Avenue and Ninth Street,\nin a manner that will tend, in an admirable way, to conserve\nthe residential character of the neighborhood. They propose\nto erect a handsome apartment house a dozen storie's high, built\non Colonial lines somewhat after the fashion of the new uptown\nColony Club. The main feature of the undertaking, however,\nis that the apartments, although the rooms will be exceptionally\nlarge, will be at moderate rentals—from nine hundred to eighteen\nhundred dollars per annum. Most of this property belonged to\nthe March Estate to which Mr. Clement C. March, of Wash-\nington Square? North, an old beau at Mrs. Astor's balls, who\nlives in Europe a great deal, is related.\nTo begin at the 112 oundation of things: to save the neighborhood,\nseveral of the old rookeries on Washington Square South, should\nbe torn down at once and replaced by apartment houses at\nmoderate rentals. The Dimock and Eno Estates own a large\nfrontage on Washington Square South. This architectural rescue\nwork there and in lowefr Fifth Avenue should be done immedi-\nately, as there are not only waiting lists of tenants for such\napartments, but in only a few years from over-crowding further\nup town, trade will begin to invade this choice neighborhood\nwith a rush, and the most redoubtable fortifications against\ntrade are apartment houses.\nApropos of our Latin quarter, which is steadily being aug-\nmented by artists and literary people of note. The studio-\nalteration of a private house on the South side of West Ninth\nStreet between Fifth and Sixth Avenue, is an excellent model\nfor architects. But far and away the most potent aid the Latin\nquarter project has received in more than a generation is that\nproposed by the Sailor's Snug Harbor corporation, which has"}, {"page_pdf": 11, "page_imprimee": "295", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151218-01.1.11", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nexcellent real estate common sense. The trustees expect to\ntear down nearly the whole row of old shops in East Eighth\nStreet on the South side? beginning at the rear of Eagan's board-\ning house at the corner of Fifth Avenue and Eighth Street and\nrunning nearly over to University Place, erecting studios in\ntheir place.\nSo away with this quarter of a century anachronism—fustian\nof a coterie of newspaper and magazine writers who know\nnothing of society from the inside and who never owned a ten\nfoot plot of Manhattan real estate—about Washington Square\nas a fashionable court-end. Let everyone who can muster the\nrequisite capital, go to work at once and build an apartment\nhouse as high as Hainan's gallows, and save the neighborhood.\nSuch sporadic instances as a member of the Drexel family\ntaking a house in Washington Square West, or the Lydig lease\nof the Serena Rhinelander's homestead are simply sporadic and\nnot indicative of the trend of the times. Look at the number\nof empty houses in lower Fifth Avenue and the Square. The\nLydigs for one reason, wanted to be near their church.\n\nIn Our Village\nIF it were not for the hardship of crossing the Square before\nthe Slreet Cleaning Department arrived at the conclusion\nthat snow is falling in the big cities for one purpose only:\nto be scooped up in the centre of the street and to be carried\naway to a mysterious somewhere, even spring and summer in\ntiheir most gorgeous holiday attire could not offer as splendid\na picture as Washington Square a few nights ago with the\nwhite fluffy snow upon the grounds, upon the black naked\nbranches of the trees; snow crystals about to dissolve but\nglistening in the yellowish light of the electric arcs, on benches\nand iron railings, the paths and sidewalks glittering and in-\nviting in their smoothness, to happy adventurous girls and\nboys. The skies dark blue like velvet strewn with sparkling\ndiamonds, far back beyond white and red house-tops, the Wool-\nworth Building, in its gigantic daintiness and its electric splendor,\nand then that big electric cross on the tower of the Judson.\nBut that Street Cleaning Department was quickly at work,\nand before the snow crystals had had a real chance to take a\nplace among their millions of brothers and sisters after a long\ntrip from high above, they were mercilessly piled up into\nheaps, they lost their pure whiteness and after a short experience\non earth had made them black and soiled, they were hurried\non wagons and on auto trucks to their last resting-place. But\nnow we know that the trees in the forests are loaded down with\nsnow and bent under the weight of icicles, that frost is form-\ning ice flowers upon the windows, that the time of sleds has\narrived and that Christmas will be soon the Christmas of\nlast year.\nAs Christmas means for a lot of us buying gifts, it means\nfor a lot of us selling them. The studios in the village are"}, {"page_pdf": 12, "page_imprimee": "296", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151218-01.1.12", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nquite busy places and a good many of those ominous figures\nlookefd forward to by all artists and described so well by O.\nHenry, \"Maecenas' of Art\" have made their appearance.\nThe works of art which are on exhibition at present at Mrs.\nHarry Payne Whitney's studio in MacDougal Alley will be trans-\nferred this week to Ellis Island and will be exhibited in the\nimmigration building. Mr. Sherman, of the Immigration Depart-\nment, a villager, among whose duties it is to entertain the\naliens who are detained at Ellis Island, said that a permanent\nexhibition of works of art will be? one of the future attrac-\ntions of the Island. Mrs. Whitney's exhibit is the first of the\nart offerings America will grant to those whom she does not\nwelcome to her shores.\nNot less than eight artists of Greenwich Village will be\nrepresented in the book-plate exhibit of the American Book-\nPlate Society, to be held in January, in Columbia University.\nTacked to the walls of Bruno's Garret are forty-two pastels\nwater colors and drawings of Ilonka Karasz, and will be on\nexhibition until January 4th.\nMonday, the 20th of December, Mr. Heroichiro K. Myderco,\nthe American-Japanese novelist and writer of short stories,\nwill read a selection from his \"Phantasies.\" The! reading will\nstart at eigth p. m.and you are invited to be present.\nOn Saturday, the 25th, at four o'clock will be a Christmas\ncelebration in Bruno's Garret for the children of Greenwich\nVillage. A big Christmas trefe, with lots of nice things hang-\ning from its branches and an abundance of toys have been\nprovided, through the kindness of a children-loving couple,\nwho do not wish to have their names made known.\nSadakichi Hartmann will establish after his return from a\nlecture trip to Atlanta, Georgia, in the Ferrer School a dramatic\ncentre and he will stage a few of his realistic dramas. Sadakichi\nwill give a reading of his dramas \"Christ\" and \"Buddha\" in\nBruno's Garret in the first week of January.\n\nBooks and Magazines of the Week\n•pHAT books mean really no more to the average individual\nthan his newspaper or his magazine means to him is\nindisputably evident in these days before Christmas. Read-\ning papers and magazines is a habit and to buy the same\npapers and too look for the same names which are featured\non the covets or on subway advertisements is accessory to\nthe habit. But habits are not pleasure nor friendship. I\nalways wondered for whom the lists of \"the three hundred\nbest Christmas books\" or \"books mostly appropriate for\nChristmas gifts\" are compiled. A walk to our book stores or\nthrough the book rooms of our department stores will prove\nthat men and women are actually selecting books from these\nlists as gifts for their beloved."}, {"page_pdf": 13, "page_imprimee": "297", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151218-01.1.13", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nNo better gift and no gift that is more intimate can we\ngive as a token of friendship then a book, but it reminds\nme of the man who is living in Cairo and leaves his order\nin Tiffany's to send presents at Christmas to a list of his\nfriends not to exceed such and such an amount, if I think\nof the man who sends to his friend a book upon the recom-\nmendation of a professional compiler of holiday book lists or\nof the clerk in the book store \"who knows To forward a\nbook which you have not read to your sweetheart, or to lay\nit under the Christmas tree for your wife or for your child\nis synonymous with introducing a stranger as a_ friend to those\nwho will take him in as your friend; who will open to him\nheart and home because of the love and the esteem they have\nfor you. You who are so careful not to identify yourself\nin business with the man whom you \"did not look up,\" you\nwho would not dream of signing a note upon the recommenda-\ntion of an unknown or of cashing the cheque which bears as\nsignature—a mere name, you will not hesitate to select a book\nfrom one of those lists or take for granted the word of the\nbook store clerk. How dicriminating you are before signing\nthe guest card for a new acquaintance in your club! but a\nbook .... anything in good-looking leather binding or\nwith a name as author which you have heard somewhere,\neven if you do not know where, you will accept readily and\npass on to those whom you love best.\nOur grandfathers were old-fashioned conservatives. Friend-\nships in their days were not closed as easily as to-day. But\nalso not dissolved as a mere incident. Publishers seventy-five?\nyears ago were discriminating in their acceptance of new\nauthors and in the material they printed. They knew that their\nreaders would use even more discrimination. To read a new\nbook was then an event in a man's life. If a pleasant event,\nhe would make a mental note and when Christmas came or a\nbirthday he would purchase another copy and mark pages or\npassages, he would express his sentiments on the fly-leaf, he\nwould wrap it up carefully and bring it, if possible, himself to its\nnew possessor. We are not living in an age of hand-knitted\nstockings. Our girls would laugh at the idea of sewing shirts\nfor their men friends. Even embroidered handkerchiefs are\nout of fashion. But a book should not and cannot lose its\nsoul. It is a live thing that the clerk wraps up for us or sends\nwith a gift card to an indicated address. It was part of a\nman before he wrote it and it will be part of another man\nafter he has read it. You or I who bestow the gift will be\nresponsible for whatever it may mean to our friend.\nTherefore: read the books which you will send as gifts\nto your friends. Read them as acquaintances until you know\nyou would wish them for your friends. Compare these book-\nfriends with your friends to whom you wish to introduce\nthem and if you think that they can be friends too, take upon\nyou the pleasures but also the responsibilities of an introduc-\ntion."}, {"page_pdf": 14, "page_imprimee": "298", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151218-01.1.14", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nBulletin New York Public Library\nAn interesting picture! of \"Berlin and the Prussian Court\nin 1798\" is presented in the journal of Thomas Boylston Adams,\nsecretary to the United States legation in Berlin, edited from\nthe original manuscript in the New York Public Library, by\nVictor Hugu Paltsits, keepe?r of manuscripts.\nThomas Boylston Adams, was a graduate of Harvard in the\nClass of 1790. He was the youngest of President Adams' five\nchildren, born at Quincy, Mass., and representing Quincy from\n1809-1811 in the legislature of his home state. President Adams\nsent in the nomination of his son as secretary to the legation\nat Berlin, and it took quite a while until the opposition to\nthis nomination was overthrown. The attempt was made three\ntimes to prevent confirmation on the grounds \"that it was un-\nnecessary to establish a permanent minister at the court of\nPrussia.\"\nThe same issue contains an extensive bibliography of books\nrelating to prints and their production.\nGood Words\n\"A paper dedicated to the welfare of the men in prison\"\nbrings a lot of cheefr once every month to our desk. Its\neditor, who needs not to apologise for make-up and contents\nof his little paper, is evidently not a stranger to Washington\nSquare and to Greenwich Village. Here are the closing lines\nof a recent letter he wrote me from his involuntary residence\nin Atlanta, Georgia:\n\"Anyway, there goes the strident-voiced gong, \"clang, clang,\nclang, clang, ten to ten,\" and when the minute hand points to\nthe zenith, out go the lights. As I lay down my pen the wester-\ning moon shines palely between the bars into my \"apartment,\"\neven as she is now shining into your garret window, my dear\nGuido, and even as she is adding her waning radiance to the\neffulgent arcs in the Square. So to you, Guido, and to thd\nbenched flotsam of the Square, and to you, weariest persusers\nof this screed, gute nacht! Und suesse Traeumlen\"\nWalhalla\nMr. Lohr, the editor of this new weekly, publishes in his\ncurrent issue the last poems of Ellegaard Ellerbeck, the\nGerman poet who died in the trenches a year ago. Mr. Eller-\nbeck, who visited America just before the outbreak of the war,\nsent the poem from the Franco-Belgian frontier to Mr. Lohr,\none day before his death.\nThe Miscellany\nThe December issue of this quarterly devoted to Book-\nplates and The Book Beautiful, contains Edmund Hort New's\naccount of the Loggan prints. \"Ancient paper making gives\nthe general characteristics of hand-made paper, with an ex-\nplanation of the methods used in its making in the olden\ntimes.\""}, {"page_pdf": 15, "page_imprimee": "299", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151218-01.1.15", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nPoetry, A Magazine of Verse\nThis pioneer of American poetry and the new poetry in the\nEnglish language in general registers, under its heading \"Our\nContemporaries,\" a gentle but well-measured kick against\nWilliam Stanley Braithwaite, poetry editor of the Boston\nTranscript, and compiler of \"The Anthology of American\nMagazine Verse.\" While Mr. Braithwaite listed this year,\nfor the first time, the poems which appeared during the last\ntwelve-month in POETRY in his \"Review of Poetry of the\nYear,\" in the Transcript of October 30th, \"he does not men-\ntion the magazine or the work it has done for the art\" is the\ngrievance of Miss Monroe, POETRY'S editor.\nPoetry Book Shop Chap Books\nHarold Monro, editor of the late \"Poetry and Drama,\" the\nexcellent quarterly which stopped publication at the outbreak\nof the war, and founder and proprietor of that unique Poetry\nBook Shop in London, where the poetry is read to one before\nbeing sold, issued during the last year a series of chap books.\n\"Songs of the War,\" by Maurice Hewlett, one of them, has\nappeared in its second print. The booklets are worth while\nreading and especially those written under the war impressions\nof last year are a fair exchange for their price, six pence.\n\nAn Ode To Spring\nTom Sleeper.\nWritten after this Year's First Snow.\nTHE bloomin' buds are bustin' on all the bally trees\nAnd the robins come a wheezin' and a snortin' down\nthe breeze\nThe donkeys are a brayin' and the jays be?gin to sing\n'Cause they know without our tellin' 'em\nIt's Spring—Sweet Spring.\nThe fishes in the ocean are a jumpin' and a splashin'\nAnd the water bugs are actin' in a most peculiar fashion\nThe cats are yowlin' choruses a sittin' in a ring\n'Cause they know without our tellin' 'em\nIt's Spring—Sweet Spring.\nThe mushrooms in the cellar'll be blooming pretty soon\nAnd the neighbor's puppies whinin' and a yapping at the moon\nThe April skies are leakin' and a welttin' everything\nSo come on and join the chorus—Here's to\nSpring, Sweet Spring.\n\nBabies' Thoughts\nBy D. Molby\na baby is first born it doesn't know a thing. It\ncan expand its chest so as to take? in air and it can contract\nit again so as to force the air out, but it doesn't know how"}, {"page_pdf": 16, "page_imprimee": "300", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151218-01.1.16", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nit does it. When it is awake it can see that there is something\naround it, but it doesn't know what. t Everything is strange\nto it because it has nevtfr seen anything before. Its father\nand mother caress it a great deal, but it can't it\nbecause it doesn't know who they are or what they are talking\nabout.\nIf it has a feeling of distress in its stomach it will probably\ncry, but it doesn't know that it is hungry or that a cry is\nthe proper way to make known that something is the*\" matter.\nIt cries, and its mother doesn't like to hear it cry so she tries\nto find out what it wants. If she can find out it makes her\nfeel awfully proud because she thinks then that the baby knew\nwhat was the matter with it and though it only cried, she\nunderstood.\nAll the time that the baby is awake it be thinking\nabout something, but, as it doesn't know anything, it can't think.\nBefore it really knows anything it must have sensations and\na great many of them. It must compare them in mind\nuntil it can see the relation of one thing to another. It is just\nlike deciphering a lot of heiroglyphics that it doesn't know\nthe? key to, and it may take a couple of years for it to realize\neven that there is a world and that it is a person living in\nit.\nBut when the child realizes this, there will be something for\nhim to think about.\n\n■\nThe Oasis\nof Washington Square\nTea Room\nIce Cream Parlor\nCigars and Cigarettes\nBeneath Bruno's Garret\nROSSI BROS., Prop'rs\n\nBronx\nOpera House\n149 th St., E. of 3d Ave.\nBest in the Bronx\nand Better Than\nHalf the Theatres\nin Manhattan\nWeek of Dec. 27th\nThe Cohan & Harris Hit\n\"Young America\""}, {"page_pdf": 17, "page_imprimee": "301", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19151218-01.1.17", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nJenny Lind's \"Inflammatus\"—Stabat Mater\nJenny Lind lived during this period of her life at No. 42\nWashington Square.\nIN September, 1850, Castle Garden had opened its doors to\nthe wonder of the age—to Jenny Lind, the queen of th5 p. m.\n8:15 p. m.\nSaturday, 2:00 p. m.\n8:15 p. m.\nChildren's Hour and Disc Concert\non the Square.\nA little Pilgrimage to the home\nand workshop of Stephen\nCollins Foster.\nPerformance at the Little Thimble\nTheatre.\nPerformance at the Little Thimble\nTheatre.\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.\nWho Wrote Our National Home Songs?\n\"Way Down upon the Swanee\nRiver,\" \"My Old Kentucky Home,\"\n\"Old Folks at Home.\" Do you\nknow that they were created and\nwritten by Stephen Collins Foster?\nIn a Dingy Bowery Grocery Store?"}]}