{"numero_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-07-22-01", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01", "ocr_sha256": "41e03678b467fd3769e3754852f57b3a7c7594d4fa31e68c6f8e015c0b29f419", "source_tei": "https://github.com/Princeton-CDH/bluemountain-transcriptions/blob/main/periodicals/bmtnaaq/issues/1916/07/22_01/bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01.tei.xml", "source_mets": "https://github.com/pulibrary/BlueMountain/blob/main/metadata/periodicals/bmtnaaq/issues/1916/07/22_01/bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01.mets.xml", "url_numero": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01", "articles": [{"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-07-22-01-c002", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01#c002", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "[855]", "page_fin": "[855]", "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=bmtnaaq19160722-01.2.2", "titre_corps": "Dum nos fata sinunt, oculos satiemus Amore", "titre_sommaire": "Dum nos fata sinunt, oculos satiemus Amore", "signature_source": "Ernest Dowson", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 3, "page_imprimee": "[855]", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.3", "debut_caractere": 136, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1454, "texte": "Dum nos fata sinunt, oculos satiemus Amore\nErnest Dowson\nPro per tins\nsmiling, Dear! a little while be sad,\nHere in the silence, under the wan moon;\nSweet are thine eyes, but how can I be glad,\nKnowing they change so soon?\nFor Love's sake, Dear, be silent! Cover me\nIn the deep darkness of thy falling hair:\nFear is upon me and the memory\nOf what is all men's share.\nO could this moment be perpetuate!\nMust we grow old, and leaden-eyed and gray,\nAnd taste no more the wild and passionate\nLove sorrows of to-day?\nGrown old, and faded, Sweet! and past desire,\nLet memory die, lest there be too much truth,\nRemembering the old, extinguished fire\nOf our divine, lost youth.\nO red pomegranate of thy perfect mouth!\nMy lips' life-fruitage, might I taste and die,\nHere in thy garden, where the scented south\nWind chastens angony;\nReap death from thy live lips in one long kiss,\nAnd look my last into thine eyes and rest:\nWhat sweets had life to me sweeter than this\nSwift dying on thy breast?\nOr, if that may not be, for Love's sake, Dear!\nKeep silence still, and dream that we shall lie,\nRed mouth to mouth, entwined, and always hear\nThe south wind's melody.\nHere in thy garden, through the sighing boughs,\nBeyond the reach of time and chance and change,\nAnd bitter life and death, and broken vows,\nThat sadden and estrange."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-07-22-01-c003", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01#c003", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "[855]", "page_fin": "856", "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=bmtnaaq19160722-01.2.3", "titre_corps": "German Princes in Rank and File", "titre_sommaire": "German Princes in Rank and File", "signature_source": "Guido Bruno", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 3, "page_imprimee": "[855]", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.3", "debut_caractere": 1456, "fin_caractere_exclue": 5043, "texte": "German Princes in Rank and File\n\nL_J OWEVER the world may regard the militaristic\n* * status of Germany, it can never for an instant deny\nthat the rulers of Germany have been ready to sacrifice\nnot only the lives of their subjects, but their own lives\nand the lives of their sons as well, to the maintenance of\nthat idea. Dispatches from the front and from the\nvarious sources of our information attest beyond a doubt\nthat the Kaiser, his six sons, the rulers of all the German\nstates and their sons, the dukes and petty princes with\nwhich the country abounds, are all daily facing death on\nthe battlefields of France and Poland. Their idea of\nmanhood may be in the last analysis erroneous, but for\nthem, at least, it is a vital one. *And they are willing, even\nanxious, to sacrifice their lives for the ideal which they\nhold dearer than life. Critics may decry the Kaiser as\nan exponent of humanitarian principles, but they must\nperforce yield him and his co-rulers in Germany the\nadmiration due a brave soldier.\nWhen a state of war was declared, every man in the\nempire took leave of his daily duties, of his business and\nof his family to obey the call to arms.\nSo did the Kaiser. He transferred all his official busi-\nness to the different departments of his Government. He\ninvested trusted men with the executive powers exclusively\nreserved to him during times of peace. He freed himself\nfrom every obligation. Now he was the armed Kaiser of\na nation in arms. He went to the front—to the head-\nquarters of all his armies. The location of headquarters\nis kept secret for strategical reasons. But every German\nwarrior knows his Kaiser is near him, taking an im-\nportant part in the tactical dispositions that he has to\nfollow.\nThe German Crown Prince leads an army. He leads\nhis army on his horse's back, his sword in his hand, ex-\nposing himself to bullets as well as the common soldier in\nthe ranks. Three of his brothers are in the field. One\nlies wounded from a hostile bullet, eager to recover and\nparticipate anew in the fight for his country. The King\nof Saxony, the King of Wurtemburg, the Grand Duke\nof Baden, the royal princes of Bavaria, the Duke of\nson-in-law of the German Emperor, are ex-\nposing themselves daily to the privations of warfare and\nto the deadly bullets and weapons of the enemy.\nFourteen princes have been wounded since the war\nbegan, and several killed. Three members of the reigning\nhouse of Lippe fell in the course of one week, after de-\nciding the fortunes of their troops through their self-\nsacrificing bravery. The Prince Ernst Saxe-Meiningen\nlost his life on Belgian soil. Prince Otto Victor of\nSchoenburg-Waldenburg gave his life for his country.\nPrince Frederick Charles of Hesse, the brother-in-law ojf\nthe Kaiser, received severe wounds, and may die.\nEighteen sovereign federal princes and sixty-four princes\nof ruling houses and of royal blood are at present with\nthe German armies.\nNational calamities are the great equalizers of mankind.\nWhen the peaceful order of things ceases, a state of war\nis declared, all men gather around the banners, the palace\nof the nobleman as well as- the hut of the plain citizen\nis exposed to hostile invasion. High born and low born,\nas well as rich and poor, seem to submerge in two new\ndefinitions—strong and weak, courageous and cowardly.\nIn the time of war, the real meaning of the titles of\nthe nobility becomes apparent. The Emperor is the\n\"Imperator,\" the man who has the highest command over\nall the troops of his country. The duke—from the old\nLatin \"dux,\"—is a man who leads, literally the one who"}, {"page_pdf": 4, "page_imprimee": "856", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.4", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 6445, "texte": "is in the front of all, and so on; all the titles cease to be\ndead words, dead expressions of social distinction, and\nbefore our eyes the pictures of the ancestors of Europe's\nnoble families loom up—the rough, strong, powerful men\nwhose daring deeds distinguished them among their\ncomrades.\nGermany is proving in the present Eureopean war that\nits princes and its dukes are real men, real citizens of their\ncountry, who do not wear the glittering uniforms 'of their\nregiments as ornamental garb, but take their places among\nthe fighters exposed to the enemy's deadly weapons.\nEighteen German Federal princes and sixty-four princes,\nmembers of ruling and sovereign houses, are at present\nat the front. A few are in High commanding positions.\nThe others are doing duty as subaltern officers, side by\nside with their brother citizens.\nForgotten are palaces, the comfort of luxuriously fur-\nnished living rooms; forgotten is the daily routine of the\nwell-ordered household. The soldier-prince's knapsack,\ncontaining the bare necessities of one day's life, substitutes\nkitchens and storerooms of his palace. The man ac-\ncustomed to change his clothes three to five times a day,\nregards it as a luxury if circumstances permit him to take\noff his garments once in two or three days.\nThe military service does not know any other privileges\nthan those connected with the man's rank in the army.\nThe prince who is a lieutenant is no more than one of the\nmany thousand lieutenants doing active service.\nBullets do not ask questions. They strike the brave\nman's heart, no matter if he is of royal birth or comes\nfrom the peasantry. Several princes have already fallen\non the field of honor, and many are wounded, lying in\nfield hospitals, or are being transported back to their homes.\nWhen prince and day duke and commercial\nagent, fight side by side, experience the same fears, the\nsame hopes, endure the same hardships, follow the same\ncommand and cherish in their hearts the one desire, \"vic-\ntory or death,\" that must create a democratic spirit in\nthe army. They abolish all political and social differences\nto increase the efficiency of the war forces. They do not\nfeel any difference in rank out there around the campfire\nor in the skirmish line or during the battle. A touch of\nthis spirit is conveyed to the mothers, to the wives and to\nthe children in the letters sent home from the fighting line.\n\"Yes, I am wounded, dear,\" writes a young husband to\nhis wife, \"and I am afraid it won't heal very quick. They\nwill have to send me back to one of the field hospitals.\nDo not worry, and don't feel badly. Just thing of 'our'\nPrince Joachim, who was married shortly before he left\nfor the front, and wounded on the same day I was.\"\nThe proverbial mother, who has five grown-up sons in\nthe ranks, has found her companion in affliction in the\nGerman Empress herself, who is practically deserted by\nher family, most of whom are implicated directly or in-\ndirectly in the war. Even her daughter, Victoria Louisa,\nDuchess of Brunswick, cannot be at her side at the\npresent time, as her husband, the reigning Duke, made\nher, in departing to the front, his substitute, and she is\nlooking after the daily routine of ruling his country.\nAll barriers of everyday life seem broken. The Empress\nis a mother, like thousands of others, who might be in\nmourmng to-morrow. Every one of the grand duchesses\nand duchesses and princesses, whose husbands are doing\nactive duty, is a German \"frau\" that studies with fearful\nheart the lists of the fallen, published from day today,\nand that sends a silent prayer to heaven if the name of\nher dear one is not among those reported dead or wounded.\nNo matter what we might think about the cruelty of\nmilitarism in general, no matter what our private opinion\nmight be as to who is responsible for the outbreak of this\nman-murdering war in Europe, and even if our sympathies\nare strongly influenced against the part the Kaiser and his\narmy played in the present struggle, we are too human\nnot to feel that he, his family and every prince in Ger-\nmany pays his price, as well as the lowest man of his\ncountry whose duty it was to follow the call to arms.\nThe scions of noble families in Germany are trained\nfrom their earliest youth for military service. Their\nmilitary instructors do not attach too much importance\nto the theoretical side of military science. The soldier\nis here to fight, to use his arms, and to support the effi-\nciency of his arms with a healthy body that is capable\nof enduring hardships, and eventually privations. So\nthey spend their days not in walks around with their\ngovernesses in the gardens or parks, but in military\nexercises, on long marches in practice with gun and rifle,\nat the same time going through the regular course neces-\nsary to secure an average education.\nThe princes of the Hohenzollern family, particularly,\nhave a rather hard youth. According to their family\ntraditions, the male members receive from their seventh\nyear military instructions from an army sergeant, and at\nthe same time they are taught to be skilled artisans, such\nas carpenters, blacksmiths, brick-layers. They are more\nor less in active military service during their entire life-\ntime, receiving grants only according to their meritorious\nservices.\nEven the female members of the Hohenzollern family\nare army officers in the Royal Guards, and hold an hon-\norary command of certain regiments bearing their names.\nWhen peace reigns again and the historians and writers\nnow fighting in the lines of Germany's armies take off\ntheir soldier coats and exchange the rifle for the pen,\nthe true history of the present campaign will be written.\nSo far, we have only the bare facts given us by* wireless\ntelegraphy that does not permit the transmission of long\nstories and episodes.\nPrince Frederick von Hesse, related to the German\nEmperor, commander of a Uhlan regiment, fell near\nNamur. He was the first of his men to attack the forces\nof the enemy. A hesitation had been felt at the wing,\nwhose most important part the Princes regiment consti-\ntuted. He galloped up to the standard bearer, took the\nstandard out of his hand and rode bock to the front of\nhis regiment. He swung it high above his head. With\nthe sword ready to strike in the right hand, the standard\nin the left, exclaiming \"Follow me, boys—death or vic-\ntory!\" he started against the hostile forces. A bullet\nstruck his chest,\n\nGuido Bruno."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-07-22-01-c004", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01#c004", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "856", "page_fin": "856", "image_debut": 4, "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=bmtnaaq19160722-01.2.4", "titre_corps": "The title cover shows a few of the most usual types of our", "titre_sommaire": "The title cover shows a few of the most usual types of our", "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": "856", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.4", "debut_caractere": 6447, "fin_caractere_exclue": 6522, "texte": "The title cover shows a few of the most usual types of our\nVillage natives."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-07-22-01-c005", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01#c005", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "857", "page_fin": "859", "image_debut": 5, "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=bmtnaaq19160722-01.2.5", "titre_corps": "People Who Lived in Our Village", "titre_sommaire": "People Who Lived in Our Village", "signature_source": "G. B", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 5, "page_imprimee": "857", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.5", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 4531, "texte": "People Who Lived in Our Village\n\nRozel Oertle Butler\n-WHY the world does not know anything about my\npaintings—and about myself? You mean why\nnewspapers and magazines have not written about my work\nand why I have not exhibited?\" Mrs. Butler repeated my\nquestions after we had returned from the magnificent gal-\nlery back of her studio, and were seated comfortably near\nthe glowing grate in the spacious hall.\n\"You must know that out there in the \"Bad Lands,\" in\nthe deserts of New Mexico and Arizona, in the prairies\nof Nebraska, newspapers and art critics are rather scarce—\nespecially if one lives in a cart driven by an old horse,\ncamping here and there and always hundreds of miles from\nthe nearest cities and even ranches, or crossing on horse-\nback the arid stretches of Mexico, with canvas and easel\non one side of the saddle, grub, blanket, brushes and paints\non the other, bunking to-day on a high mountain, to-mor-\nrow deep down in the valley. Such was my life for years.\n\"I went through countries where a white woman had\nnever been before. The solitude of the desert has exer-\ncised over me a fascination since my earliest youth. Just\nthe land with its sun-dried vegetation and no other limita-\ntion to the horizon than the skies that seem to fade away\nfar on the outskirts of the prairie—but not so far that you\nthought you could not reach them if you had a good horse\nand kept on riding straight toward your goal.\nNo Chance to Exhibit\n\"Somehow, I never tried to do it. I stopped at this place\nor that, sketched and painted and tried to transfer on my\ncanvas the marvelous, ever-changing colors of sky and\nearth, of the mountains and the sea. After a canvas was\nfinished, I carried it with me and forwarded it, whenever\nI had a chance, to a storage house in some nearby city. So\nyou can easily see I could not have exhibited, eager though\nI was to let the American people see the beauties and won-\nders of those parts of their own country they call the \"Bad\nLands' and which seem to be neglected, not only by tour-\nists and travelers, but—what is more astonishing—by ar-\ntists and poets and musicians. Out there some day will be\nthe birthplace of an American music, of real American\npainting and of that kind of poetry that will not only be\nwritten in America, but will be really American.\n\"The revolutionary conditions of Mexico compelled me\nto come back to the States, and I decided to stay for awhile\nin New York. My canvases are already arriving from\nthe storage houses and soon I will be able to make a selec-\ntion and present to the public the deserts of America, In-\ndian life and the Mexican markets.\nThe knocker downstairs sounded. An insurance in-\nspector interrupted our conversation. I crossed over to\nthe studio to one of the enormous windows facing Wash-\nington Square. It was late in the afternoon and snow\ncrystals glittered in the air and struggled vainly with an\nunexpected current of warm wind and had to come to\nearth as raindrops.\nHave you ever been down to Greenwich Village, the\nold, aristocratic part of the city whose capital is Washing-\nton Square? Did you ever notice the row of brown and\ngray stone mansions on its south side? O. Henry called\nthem \"the quiet houses of mystery,\" and there is always a\nsurprise in store for you whenever you gain entrance to\none of them. ||hey were built half a century or more ago\nby well-to-do merchants, old New Yorkers, after whom\nour streets and places are called. Their children and\ngrandchildren moved to .upper Fifth Avenue or to River-\nside Drive and the enormous mansions are unoccupied or\nrented to people who make a business of renting rooms and\nstudios.\nUp Stairs and Down Stairs\nThe first and second floors of such houses are, perhaps,\nmagnificently furnished, occupied by writers or artists\nwhose names have won nation-wide reputation; while on\nthe upper floors and in the mansards live men and women\nwho are struggling hard \"to get there.\" That means to\npaint \"the painting\" or to write \"the book.\" Down stairs\nare Persian carpets on the floors, bedrooms fitted with fur-\nniture that had been built for a guest room in the royal\npalace at Fontainbleau, and upstairs in the mansards an\nold bed spring bought from the Salvation Army rests on\ntwo soap boxes, serving the man as bed whose book may\nbring you infinite pleasure to-morrow. A candle stuck in\nthe neck of a bottle is his illumination in the evening. The\nfloors are bare. But a magnificent carved marble mantel\nover the fireplace erases the suggestion of poverty, even if"}, {"page_pdf": 6, "page_imprimee": "858", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.6", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 3218, "texte": "there is no wood or coal in the grate. And the windows\noverlook Washington Square! The game old trees and\nthe same sky, with the black city in the background can\nbe seen from here as from the windows downstairs hung\nwith silk curtains.\nIn the last one of this row of houses on the corner of\nSullivan street lives Mrs. Butler, the painter of deserts\nand Indian life.\nMrs. Butler paints Mexican market life as it never was\npainted before. The vivid colors, the sun at noontime, the\nsun in the afternoon, the first shadows of the evening—\nher pictures seem to live, seem to convey to us the beauty\nand the exoticism of that far-away country of picturesque\nrevolutions, of lazy-living city people and slow, tired-mov-\ning, hard-working farmers.\nHere in her studio the eye lights upon \"Flower Ven-\ndors of Mexico City\" in which is presented that corner\ndiagonally opposite the main post office, painted in the noon\nhour. The white sun shines on the canvas, protecting the\nmerchant from the hottest rays. The flowers in baskets\nturn their heads toward the sun and their red and white\nand Nile green and purple create in the picture, around\nthe picture and in us an atmosphere that makes us forget\nthe cold and colorless winter day in New York.\nAnd there is the \"Piazza del Signore.\" Under the old\nshady trees the bird seller has a stand. The birds whose\nwings and little bodies we admire on women's hats and in\ncages, one on top of the other, and the vender rests quiet,\nlazy and yet with a latent power.\nAnd then there are the paintings of the American desert\nstretches of prairie, no tree, no bush, only grass and skies.\nBut the colors seem to convey to us a strange message—\na message of life, of struggle, of conviction, of defeat and\n—of final peace.\nThere is such a sublime peace in every one of Mrs. But-\nler's paintings. It is the peace after a storm. It is the\npeace of old age after a long life of hard labor. It is the\npeace only a very few conceive and still fewer are chosen\nto convey to us in their works of art.\nWashington Square—in the middle of that boisterous\nItalian section—conveyed this peace. These large, spa-\ncious rooms in the old stone mansion conveyed such peace.\nI could understand why Mrs. Butler, who knew how to\npeople her deserts and \"bad lands\" and how to feel soli-\ntude amidst the noise and hustle-bustle of the Mexican\nmarkets, had chosen this old section and this old house in\nold Greenwich Village as her home in New York.\nMrs. Butler had re-entered the room.\n\"You, too, feel the message of those naked trees with\ntheir black branches, of this yellowish purple sky ? What\ndoes it matter that there are hordes of Italians and Hun-\ngarians and Polacks taking their children for a breath of\nair on a sunny day, or the buzzing 'buses filled with joy\nriders? Because I love the desert and lived in the desert\nthe greater partf of my life I chose New York and not a\nsmaller city in the West in which to settle down for a\nwhile. There is no vaster desert in all America than\nNew York, with all its millions of inhabitants.\n\"You want to know who I am? From where I come?\nSomething of my life? It isn't very interesting because\nthere isn't much of a magazine romance in it. Work—"}, {"page_pdf": 7, "page_imprimee": "859", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.7", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 3570, "texte": "hard work—was my lot from the day I was able to walk\nuntil to-day, until this very hour. I was born on a ranch\nin Nebraska, and at the age of 8 I had to take care of my\nyounger sisters and brothers in the absence of my parents,\nand ia addition to that do all the work around the house.\nAnd that was not a small job. For seventeen years I\nworked on the ranch of my father. I did all the work\nthat a farmhand would do. I know how to raise potatoes,\nhow to dig the ground, how to cut down trees. I didn't\nknow that there was such an art as painting until my\ntwenty-second year. I visited Lincoln, Neb., and there I\nsaw a painting for the first time. I don't remember the\nname of the painting or who painted it, but it made a pro-\nfound impression upon me. I stood there for nearly two\nhours, and then I said to my father:\nThe Inspiration\n\" 'If I had the material, I could do as well.'\n\"But back I went to the farm and did my work as\nbefore.\n\"At the Omaha Exposition in 1889 I saw a fine collec-\ntion of paintings. Notwithstanding the fact that I had\nnever even tried to paint, I decided to become a painter.\nIn the fall of the same year I managed to get passage to\nAntwerp. There I lived for two years studying at the\nAcademy of Fine Arts and earning my living. Never mind\nhow, but I earned it, and I worked hard for every penny\nI got.\n\"I went to Paris. At first I was, as most of us, an ar-\ndent admirer of the geniality and the wonderful inspira-\ntions of the French artists and the French schools.\n\"But I wasn't esprit—it wasn't impressions I wanted. I\nhad worked the soil and I had studied the slow process of\ngrowth of nature, and that is what I wanted to paint. My\nteacher advised me to go to Brittany. I stayed there al-\nmost a year. The people there have to wrestle with the\nsoil; they work hard. I made some wonderful sketches\nthere. I was so poor that I could not afford to buy good\npaints. And so those canvases turned all black and I had\nto destroy them.\nStudying in Munich\n\"Then I went to Munich. I stayed there six years. No\n—I did not join any of the noted schools. The group of\nsecessionists wanted me to exhibit my work. But I de-\nclined. My teacher was Anton Atzbe, the favorite pupil\nof Lenbach, and I stayed with him six years. I was al-\nways alone. Society and the majority of artists never had\nattraction for me. But I met Nietzsche and we became\ngood friends. I was the only woman he ever called a\nfriend in his life. The hours I spent in his company are\nmy dearest memories.\n\"One day an unspeakable longing for my home, for the\nprairies in Nebraska, took possession of me. I crossed the\nocean again, and for more than fifteen years I have lived\nthe life of a nomad. I crossed the prairies and 'Bad\nLands' and deserts from east to west, and always alone. I\nlearned to love the Indians and their home life. I joined\na tribe of the Pueblo Indians and stayed with them in\nArizona and New Mexico. Later I crossed the border\nand painted Mexican market life. It is just in the market\nscenes that a Mexican of to-day can be understood. I\nstayed in the larger cities, mingled with the peasants that\ncome to the cities daily after their farms have been devas-\ntated by the revolutionary bands. I rode on horseback\nthrough the mountains, I camped on high hills and down\nnear the ocean.\n\"Didn't you feel the harmony between my Mexican\npictures and those of the deserts ? The revolution in Mex-\nico necessitated my homecoming. But next summer I\nshall be gone again. Igo to South America, to Peru, and\nI expect to be gone for several years.\"\n\nG.B."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-07-22-01-c007", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01#c007", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "858", "page_fin": "858", "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=bmtnaaq19160722-01.2.5.2", "titre_corps": "After a dance in Mazzini's", "titre_sommaire": "After a dance in Mazzini's", "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": "858", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.6", "debut_caractere": 3220, "fin_caractere_exclue": 3246, "texte": "After a dance in Mazzini's"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-07-22-01-c009", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01#c009", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "859", "page_fin": "859", "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=bmtnaaq19160722-01.2.6", "titre_corps": "Advice for Young Authors", "titre_sommaire": "Advice for Young Authors", "signature_source": "Charles Beaudelaire ; Translated by Guido Bruno", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 7, "page_imprimee": "859", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.7", "debut_caractere": 3572, "fin_caractere_exclue": 5659, "texte": "Advice for Young Authors\nBy Charles Beaudelaire\nTranslated by Guido Bruno\nAbout Defaming\nC~)NE should defame only such people who are spreading\nerroneous ideas. To attack a man in a strong posi-\ntion, even if you feel yourself strong enough to do so,\nalways involves a weakening of yourself. But if you\nshow him only that you defer radically with him on\ncertain points, you might win him as a friend who is\ngoing to stick to you on certain occasions. There are\ntwo methods of knocking: the roundabout method and the\ndirect method. The latter always proves to be the shortest*\nFitting examples of the roundabout method can be found\nplentifully in the feuilletons of J. Janin. The round-\nabout way amuses the public at large but it is not an\neducated way.\nThe direct way is favored at present by a few English\njournalists. They seem to have abandoned it in Paris.\nEven Mr. Granier de Cassaganac seems to have forgotten\nall about it. This is how it is done: \"Mr. X. is a very\nindecent person, and more than that he is stupid, which\nI can easily prove. In order to prove it I will state first,\nsecond, third . . .\" and so on. This method I would\nlike to recommend to such who believe in reason and\nhave at their disposition a good fist.\nVery much to be pitied is the unfortunate one who\nwanted to knock and became the victim of his own knocks.\nHis own missile came back to him. It is the bullet that\nkills the one who fired it.\nAbout Creditors\n\\/ OU surely remember a comedy called \"Frivolity and\n* Genius.\" That frivolity often accompanies genius\nproves that genius was extraordinarily strong. But this\ntitle means for many young people unhappily not a mere\ncoincidence but a necessity.\nI doubt whether Goethe ever had creditors. Even\nHoffmann, the frivolous Hoffman, who was constantly\ntantalized by his troubles, longed continuously to get rid\nof them, and he died finally at the time when a comfortable\nlife would have permitted his genius glorious liberty.\nNever make debts! If you wish, to make others believe\nthat you are in debt, do so, but that's the limit I would\nadvise you to go."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-07-22-01-c010", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01#c010", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "859", "page_fin": "859", "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=bmtnaaq19160722-01.2.7", "titre_corps": "Original thoughts are as unusual as a satisfactory plumber.", "titre_sommaire": "Original thoughts are as unusual as a satisfactory plumber.", "signature_source": "Tom Sleeper", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 7, "page_imprimee": "859", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.7", "debut_caractere": 5661, "fin_caractere_exclue": 5733, "texte": "Tom Sleeper.\nOriginal thoughts are as unusual as a satisfactory plumber."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-07-22-01-c012", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01#c012", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "860", "page_fin": "860", "image_debut": 8, "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=bmtnaaq19160722-01.2.8", "titre_corps": "Poems and Other Things", "titre_sommaire": "Poems and Other Things", "signature_source": "James Waldo Fawcett", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 8, "page_imprimee": "860", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.8", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 3159, "texte": "A Fable\nTHERE was once a poet, who did not win any laurels\nand who never was advertised in magazines and\nbook stores. At length he thought of committing suicide.\n\"Then,\" he said, \"I shall be famous forever.\" So he\narranged all his unsold manuscript in a neat pile and went\ninto a public park on the evening of a great national\nholiday. \"Now is the time and this is the place!\" he\ncried, and where the crowd was thickest he shot himself\nand died. But he had come so far away from his friends\nthat there was no one in all the vast multitude who knew\nhim. He was buried in Potter's Field, unidentified;\nand was soon quite forgotten, even by his creditors, but\nhis manuscripts were found by the well-known compiler\nof a literary review. He read them with great interest,\nadopted a few of them for his own works and published\nthe balance anonymously under the title \"Poems as found\nin a Furnished Room.\" Literary reviewers wondered who\nthe author of this novel and beautiful little volume might\nbe. In years to come the compiler of literature who had\nbeen unofficially identified as the author of the anonymous\nbook had himself forgotten whether he had really written\nthose poems or simply compiled them.\nAt the celebration of the twenty-fifth anniversary of the\nNew York Crimes Book Review he blushingly admitted\nhis authorship.\nThe dead poet is slumbering peacefully away with\nthousands of other unknown wayfarers on the road to\nFame and Success which they did not achieve in reaching.\n\nFragments\nI.\n0 OME dine with me\nOn a banquet\nOf slichi\nAnd kasha.\nAh!\n1 see you do not know\nMy beloved Russia.\n11.\nQ HE raved\nAll evening\nAbout Giotto.\nBut she\nHad never heard\nOf Gauguin.\n111.\nT ITTLE girl,—\n«■—'' You who were\nMy first love,—\nCould you see\nThe bitter-sweet joy\nOf these days\nYou would loathe me.\n\nA Famous Man\n\"HO you see that man?\" I said. \"He looks as though\nhe might have an interesting story.\"\n\"What!\" cried my friend. \"Don't you know who that\nman is?\"\n\"No; who is he?\" I replied.\n\"He is one of the greatest men of his class. To judge\nhim by his appearance would be to misjudge him most\ncruelly. He is a craftsman of the highest order. An\nartisan of considerable achievement. An artist, too, I\nhave heard from those who should know. Furthermore,\nhe is a philosopher and a revolutionist. He is a veteran\nof the revolt of '71. He knew Lamarck and Liebnecht.\"\n\"Indeed!\" I exclaimed. \"You must introduce me.\"\n\"Oh, you can introduce yourself. You can find him\nusually in his shop below the corner. He is Heinrich\nWagner, our cobbler.\"\n\nPoems and Other Things\nby James Waldo Fawcett\n\nBridge\nA BRIDGE to me is a spendid thing\nFor the soul to see the heart to sing.\nA palsing monument it stands,\nA symbol of clasped and toil-worn hands\nAnd a living tie that friendly binds\nFriendly cities and friendly minds.\n\nFable\nTHERE was once a man whom God \"caught\" in a lie.\nAnd God tried to think of a suitable punishment.\nFinally, he called the poor unfortunate before him and\nsaid, \"You will never tell the truth again.\"\nThe punishment was greater than the criminal could\nbear. Within a year he died, crying: \"Nobody believes\nme. I'm telling the truth!\""}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-07-22-01-c013", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01#c013", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "860", "page_fin": "860", "image_debut": 8, "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=bmtnaaq19160722-01.2.8.1", "titre_corps": "A Fable", "titre_sommaire": "A Fable", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 8, "page_imprimee": "860", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.8", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1498, "texte": "A Fable\nTHERE was once a poet, who did not win any laurels\nand who never was advertised in magazines and\nbook stores. At length he thought of committing suicide.\n\"Then,\" he said, \"I shall be famous forever.\" So he\narranged all his unsold manuscript in a neat pile and went\ninto a public park on the evening of a great national\nholiday. \"Now is the time and this is the place!\" he\ncried, and where the crowd was thickest he shot himself\nand died. But he had come so far away from his friends\nthat there was no one in all the vast multitude who knew\nhim. He was buried in Potter's Field, unidentified;\nand was soon quite forgotten, even by his creditors, but\nhis manuscripts were found by the well-known compiler\nof a literary review. He read them with great interest,\nadopted a few of them for his own works and published\nthe balance anonymously under the title \"Poems as found\nin a Furnished Room.\" Literary reviewers wondered who\nthe author of this novel and beautiful little volume might\nbe. In years to come the compiler of literature who had\nbeen unofficially identified as the author of the anonymous\nbook had himself forgotten whether he had really written\nthose poems or simply compiled them.\nAt the celebration of the twenty-fifth anniversary of the\nNew York Crimes Book Review he blushingly admitted\nhis authorship.\nThe dead poet is slumbering peacefully away with\nthousands of other unknown wayfarers on the road to\nFame and Success which they did not achieve in reaching."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-07-22-01-c014", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01#c014", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "860", "page_fin": "860", "image_debut": 8, "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=bmtnaaq19160722-01.2.8.2", "titre_corps": "Fragments", "titre_sommaire": "Fragments", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 8, "page_imprimee": "860", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.8", "debut_caractere": 1500, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1812, "texte": "Fragments\nI.\n0 OME dine with me\nOn a banquet\nOf slichi\nAnd kasha.\nAh!\n1 see you do not know\nMy beloved Russia.\n11.\nQ HE raved\nAll evening\nAbout Giotto.\nBut she\nHad never heard\nOf Gauguin.\n111.\nT ITTLE girl,—\n«■—'' You who were\nMy first love,—\nCould you see\nThe bitter-sweet joy\nOf these days\nYou would loathe me."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-07-22-01-c015", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01#c015", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "860", "page_fin": "860", "image_debut": 8, "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=bmtnaaq19160722-01.2.8.3", "titre_corps": "A Famous Man", "titre_sommaire": "A Famous Man", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 8, "page_imprimee": "860", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.8", "debut_caractere": 1814, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2550, "texte": "A Famous Man\n\"HO you see that man?\" I said. \"He looks as though\nhe might have an interesting story.\"\n\"What!\" cried my friend. \"Don't you know who that\nman is?\"\n\"No; who is he?\" I replied.\n\"He is one of the greatest men of his class. To judge\nhim by his appearance would be to misjudge him most\ncruelly. He is a craftsman of the highest order. An\nartisan of considerable achievement. An artist, too, I\nhave heard from those who should know. Furthermore,\nhe is a philosopher and a revolutionist. He is a veteran\nof the revolt of '71. He knew Lamarck and Liebnecht.\"\n\"Indeed!\" I exclaimed. \"You must introduce me.\"\n\"Oh, you can introduce yourself. You can find him\nusually in his shop below the corner. He is Heinrich\nWagner, our cobbler.\""}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-07-22-01-c016", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01#c016", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "860", "page_fin": "860", "image_debut": 8, "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=bmtnaaq19160722-01.2.8.4", "titre_corps": "Bridge", "titre_sommaire": "Bridge", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 8, "page_imprimee": "860", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.8", "debut_caractere": 2599, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2821, "texte": "Bridge\nA BRIDGE to me is a spendid thing\nFor the soul to see the heart to sing.\nA palsing monument it stands,\nA symbol of clasped and toil-worn hands\nAnd a living tie that friendly binds\nFriendly cities and friendly minds."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-07-22-01-c017", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01#c017", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "860", "page_fin": "860", "image_debut": 8, "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=bmtnaaq19160722-01.2.8.5", "titre_corps": "Fable", "titre_sommaire": "Fable", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 8, "page_imprimee": "860", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.8", "debut_caractere": 2823, "fin_caractere_exclue": 3159, "texte": "Fable\nTHERE was once a man whom God \"caught\" in a lie.\nAnd God tried to think of a suitable punishment.\nFinally, he called the poor unfortunate before him and\nsaid, \"You will never tell the truth again.\"\nThe punishment was greater than the criminal could\nbear. Within a year he died, crying: \"Nobody believes\nme. I'm telling the truth!\""}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-07-22-01-c018", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01#c018", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "860", "page_fin": "860", "image_debut": 8, "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=bmtnaaq19160722-01.2.8.6", "titre_corps": "Drawing by Jack Flanagan", "titre_sommaire": "Drawing by Jack Flanagan", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 8, "page_imprimee": "860", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.8", "debut_caractere": 3161, "fin_caractere_exclue": 3185, "texte": "Drawing by Jack Flanagan"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-07-22-01-c019", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01#c019", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "861", "page_fin": "861", "image_debut": 9, "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=bmtnaaq19160722-01.2.9", "titre_corps": "Chicago Letter", "titre_sommaire": "Chicago Letter", "signature_source": "John Stapleton Cowley Brown", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 9, "page_imprimee": "861", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.9", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 3373, "texte": "Chicago Letter\nJohn Stapleton Cowley Brown\nKicked by a Mule\n\"John Jones, who was kicked by a mule, is dead from\nthe same.\" Thus reads a terse paragraph in an up-state\nMoulder of Public Opinion. Here in Porkopolis similar\naccidents occur daily. Only last week, one of my critical\nconfreres was kicked in a vital spot by a mule, and shuffled\noff this mortal soil in great agony. The \"mule\" that\nkicked him was\"The Hollow of Her Hand,\" the negli-\ngible novel in which George Barr McCutcheon breaks\nall records—his own—for sheer brain-annihilating, in-\nsomnia-curing drivel. My friend is dead— hence my\nanger—but the mule still is at large. So cave canem,\nbeware the McCutcheon mule.\nThe House of Harper\nThe ancient and honorable house of Harper Brothers\nare publishing more \"plugs\" than any other publishing\nhouse in America—our own McClurg Mausoleum not ex-\ncepted. Yet book-buyers who have been \"stuck\" in the last\nanalysis have only themselves to blame. To buy books\nbecause they bear the imprint of an old-established firm\nis much as if a man should buy clothes that did not fit\nhim, giving as reason for the purchase that they were\nmade by a long-established tailor.\nFour Kinds of Readers Defined\n\"There are four kinds of readers. The first is like the\nhour-glass; and their reading being as the sand, it runs\nin and runs out, and leaves not a vestige behind. A second\nis like the sponge, which imbibes everything and returns it\nin nearly the same state, only a little dirtier. A third is\nlike a jelly-bag, allowing all that is pure to pass away,\nand retaining only the refuse and the dregs. And the\nfourth is like the slaves in the diamond mines of Gol-\nconda, who, casting aside all that is worthless, retain only\npure \"gems.\" Coleridge, who wrote this golden defini-\ntion, was a member of the fourth class of readers. If he\nwere alive, of all the books thus far published in 1913\nhe would retain only Bowman Peck's volume of \"Poems\"\n(London; Elkin Matthews) as chryselephantine poetry\nas has even been written by an American since Poe laid\ndown his wand forever.\nThe Difference Between Emerson Hough and Henry Fuller\nQuery: What is the difference between Emerson Hough\nand Henry Fuller, charter members of Cook County's\nConcatenated literati? Answer: Hough is unreadable,\nand Fuller is not read.\nLice On a Lion's Mane\nThe crapulous crew of cretinous critics, who, to gain\na little advertising of their precious selves, are gushing\n(at space rates) over the Browning Centennial, remind\nme of nothing so much as of lice on a lion's mane. The\nmost Shakespearian creature since Shakespeare needs no\nsuch weak support. His \"Complete Poetical Works,\"\na monument more during than brass, is too little read\nand too much dwelled over in print by windy criticasters,\nmostly long-haired men and short-haired women.\nNow Barabbas Was a Publisher\nI have been reading Sloan's \"Life of Napoleon.\" Na-\npoleon's sons (which were many) surely have been for-\ngiven him by the King of kings and Lord of lords. \"Nap\"\nonce shot a publisher.\nHoni Soit Qui Mal Y Pense\nAlso, I have been making the re-acquaintance of that\nfascinating classic, Southey's \"Life of Nelson.\" From this\nlatter, I learn that after the death of Nelson, English\nladies were fond of wearing the Trafalgar garter, on which\nwas inscribed the memorable signal, \"England expects\nevery man will do his duty.\""}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-07-22-01-c020", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01#c020", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "861", "page_fin": "861", "image_debut": 9, "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=bmtnaaq19160722-01.2.10", "titre_corps": "In the Landes", "titre_sommaire": "In the Landes", "signature_source": "Hubert Crackanthorpe", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 9, "page_imprimee": "861", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.9", "debut_caractere": 3375, "fin_caractere_exclue": 4832, "texte": "In the Landes\nHubert Crackanthorpe\nCINCE sunrise I had been traveling—along the straight-\nstretching roads, white with summer sand, intermin-\nably striped by the shadows of the poplars, across the\ngreat, parched plain, where, all the day's length, the heat\ndances over the waste land, and the cattle bells float their\nfar-away tinkling; through the desolate villages, empty\nbut for the beldames, hunched in the doorways, pulling\nthe flax with horny, tremulous fingers; and on towards\nthe desolate silence of the flowerless pine-forests.\nAnd there the night fell. The sun went down uijseen;\na dim flickering ruddled the host of tree-trunks, and the\ndarkness started to drift through the forest. The road\ngrew narrow as a foot-path, and the mare, slackening her\npace, uneasily strained her white neck ahead . . .\nOut of the darkness a figure sprang beside me. A shout\nrang out—words of an uncouth patois that I did not\nunderstand. And the mare terrified, galloped forward,\nsnorting and swerving, from side to side . .\nAnd a strange superstitious fear crept upon me—a\ndreamy dread of the future; a helpless presentiment of\nevil days to come; a sense, too, of the ruthless nullity\nof life, of the futile deception of effort, of bitter revolt\nagainst the extinction of death; a yearning after faith\nin some vague survival beyond . . .\nAnd the words of the old proverb returned to me\nmockingly, \"The eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor is\nthe ear with hearing.\""}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-07-22-01-c021", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01#c021", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "861", "page_fin": "861", "image_debut": 9, "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=bmtnaaq19160722-01.2.11", "titre_corps": "D'Annunzio Beaten to it", "titre_sommaire": "D'Annunzio Beaten to it", "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": "861", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.9", "debut_caractere": 4834, "fin_caractere_exclue": 5207, "texte": "D'Annunzio Beaten to it\nMaxim Gorky was so shocked receiving the news of the\ndeath of Tolstoy that he fainted, and after he had come\nto again, he refused to eat and to drink for several days.\nThis story was related to the great Gabriel D'Annunzio.\nHe exclaimed: \"What a great co-incidence?—lt is just\nwhat I had intended to do, to pay to the deceased Master\nproper homage.\""}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-07-22-01-c022", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01#c022", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "861", "page_fin": "861", "image_debut": 9, "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=bmtnaaq19160722-01.2.12", "titre_corps": "What is in human nature that makes", "titre_sommaire": "What is in human nature that makes", "signature_source": "Michael Monahan", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 9, "page_imprimee": "861", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.9", "debut_caractere": 5209, "fin_caractere_exclue": 5825, "texte": "Michael Monahan.\nWhat is in human nature that makes\nmen love to grovel before fetiches of flesh\nor stone? Nothing is more certain than\nthat millions prefer such prostration to the\nnoblest dignity and freedom. To kowtow\nto any fool drest in a little brief authority,\n—this is one of the strongest and most deep-\nly rooted of human instincts; it is also the\nchief obstacle to human progress. No doubt\nit harks back to those early ages of the\nworld, and some not so remote, when Fear\nand Superstition were the supreme govern-\ning forces. And tho the substance of these\nbe long since gone, the shadow still affrights\nus."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-07-22-01-c023", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01#c023", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "862", "page_fin": "863", "image_debut": 10, "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=bmtnaaq19160722-01.2.13", "titre_corps": "Connoiseur and Antiquarian", "titre_sommaire": "Connoiseur and Antiquarian", "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": "862", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.10", "debut_caractere": 51, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1852, "texte": "J.F. MacCarthy: Engraver,\n\nIWJacCARTHY was an engraver with the soul of an\nartist and the likely inherited inclination to collect\nbeautiful things. Had he been a millionaire he would 1\nhave been renowned all over the world as a collector of\nart objects. But the man who is engraving plates usually\ndoes not acquire the fortunes that await a steel manu-\nfacturer or an oil dealer. He was contented with his life,\nBut he felt really happy after he had succeeded in com-\nbining his passion for paintings and beautiful old china\nwith his daily task of earning a livelihood for himself and\nhis family. Little by little he drifted into selling the\nthings which he had originally bought following that\nmysterious desire of the born collector to possess, if some-\nhow possible, whatever struck his fancy. Soon he picked\nup things with the purpose of showing them to fellow\ncollectors interested in this particular kind of objects.'\nAnd to-day he has one of the most interesting antiquarian\ncabinets in the city. You wouldn't call his place a shop.\nIt is an old fashioned mansion, No. 30 West 46th Street,\nwhere he occupies the ground floor.\nOld fashioned paintings are on its walls right next\nto the modern work of contemporary artists. Curious\nthings on shelves and in cases, old bronzes, porcelains, 4\nbooks here and there, but of the utmost interest in the\nshop, is he himself, MacCarthy. He is the impersonation\nof kindliness. Foreign to him is that characteristic of\nour average art dealer to get everything at the cheapest\npossible prices; to exploit the ignorance of people who\nsell, as well as of those who purchase. He is kind to\nthe artist who wishes to dispose of his work. He is in-\ndulgent to the old lady who decided after a long fight with\nherself, with her pride and with her creditors to part"}, {"page_pdf": 11, "page_imprimee": "863", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.11", "debut_caractere": 60, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1703, "texte": "Connoiseur and Antiquarian\n\nwith some of her family nelics. The old silhouettes,\nj family portraits, snuff boxes, and hundreds of other things\nl|ie acquires are to him not only wares which he expects\njto sell with profit, but they are also objects of his collection\nwith which he parts very often reluctantly whenever the\nI occasion presents itself.\nAnd what curious things he finds. There is, for\ninstance, an excellent portrait of Nathan Hale's father,\nthe only likeness as far as known at present, in existence.\nThe silhouettes we are reproducing on this page is a\ngroup of an old Boston family. They are made by August\n*Amanat Constance Fidele Edouart, one of the famous\nsilhouette artists of the eighteenth century. Born in\njjPunkirk in 1788, he went to London in 1815. He was\nsilhouettist to the Royal family. He made a trip\nMo the United States in 1839. The great eclat with\nI which he was received in all the important cities which he\n| visited induced him to remain on American soil for ten\n{years. He silhouetted everyone here of any prominence\nif from the President down. His work is represented in\n■ almost all of the European silhouette collections in mu-\njpeums and galleries.\n1 There is a row of Pennell; his beautiful pen and ink\ndrawings are on one of his walls. We are reproducing\ntwo most characteristic of the artists workmanship. Dur-\ning the recent bazaar for the Allies, MacCarthy bought\nmany things by contemporary artists. This sketch of the\nman who made Buster Brown famous in all the nurseries\nof the United States is too good to be given over to the\nsole enjoyment of the lucky one who will eventually\n[purchase it."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-07-22-01-c024", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01#c024", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "862", "page_fin": "862", "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=bmtnaaq19160722-01.2.13.1", "titre_corps": "T.W. Paige", "titre_sommaire": "T.W. Paige", "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": "862", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.10", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 26, "texte": "T.W. Paige"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-07-22-01-c026", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01#c026", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "862", "page_fin": "862", "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=bmtnaaq19160722-01.2.13.3", "titre_corps": "Harriette White Paige", "titre_sommaire": "Harriette White Paige", "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": "862", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.10", "debut_caractere": 28, "fin_caractere_exclue": 49, "texte": "Harriette White Paige"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-07-22-01-c027", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01#c027", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "863", "page_fin": "863", "image_debut": 11, "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=bmtnaaq19160722-01.2.13.4", "titre_corps": "James William Paige", "titre_sommaire": "James William Paige", "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": "863", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.11", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 35, "texte": "James William Paige"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-07-22-01-c028", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01#c028", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "863", "page_fin": "863", "image_debut": 11, "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=bmtnaaq19160722-01.2.13.5", "titre_corps": "Harriette Story Paige", "titre_sommaire": "Harriette Story Paige", "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": "863", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.11", "debut_caractere": 37, "fin_caractere_exclue": 58, "texte": "Harriette Story Paige"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-07-22-01-c030", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01#c030", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "864", "page_fin": "866", "image_debut": 12, "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=bmtnaaq19160722-01.2.14", "titre_corps": "A word to our own followers of all sorts of \"Isms\"", "titre_sommaire": "A word to our own followers of all sorts of \"Isms\"", "signature_source": "Guido Bruno", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 12, "page_imprimee": "864", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.12", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 6476, "texte": "INCLINATION to art and artistic occupations are\nvery common characteristics of insane people.\nDespite the fact that the strong desire to express con-\ncretely thoughts and delusions is the constantly noted\nsymptoms of certain mental diseases, mental specialists\nhave paid little attention in recent years to this important\nphase in their patients' condition.\nThe most complete collection of works of insane artists\nwas assembled in 1880 by Maxim Ducamp and C. Lom-\nbroso, the eminent psychologists, in the University Insane\nAsylum of Turin, Italy. One hundred and seven insane\nartists were represented in this unique collection. Of\nthese, 46 were painters, 10 were sculptors, 11 were en-\ngravers, 13 were architects and 27 were designers, en-\ngaged in allegorical works.\nFrom the psychopathic standpoint, of these 107 insane\nartists, 25 suffered from meglomania, 21 from alcoholic\ndelirium, 24 from melancholia in all stages, 22 from tem-\nporary insanity, 5 from moral insanity, and 2 were epilep-\ntics. Most of the painters, previously to their illness, had\nbeen engaged in art studies. It may be easily understood\nthat these men, who had been engaged in work which\nfascinated them, developed a high degree of sensitiveness\nfor the special branch of art in which they had been in-\nterested. The others of the 107 had been students, offi-\ncers, Catholic priests and mechanics, occupations which\nbrought them to a greater or less extent in contact with\nworks of art.\nC. Lombroso, in the Archivio di Psichiatria Scienze\nLegali, has on record the results of his studies of the\nart of the insane and illustrates his lectures with pictures\nof his exhibition. These comprise masterpieces of insane\nartists collected from all insane asylums of Europe.\nIn the insane asylum of Perugia, Italy, there was a\npainter inmate who suffered from alcoholism. Before he\nwas committed to the institution he had been a well\nknown portrait artist. His peculiarity was the odd use\nof red color in all of his portraits. He painted always in\nprofile, characterising nose, mouth and forehead in sharply\ncurved lines, and applying his color combination very\nheavily to produce a novel effect upon the student of his\nworks. All of his portraits appeared degenerated, as\nthough they were likenesses of habitual drunkards. This\nwas a very singular case, since most insane portrait paint-\ners employ yellow as their favorite color.\nAt the insane asylum of Siena, Italy, the architect \"L,\"\nvery well known in his time, spent the latter part of his\nlife. He lost entirely the sense for proportions in his\nwork and reproduced drafts of subjects without shape\nand without form.\nThe same disease, however, which suppresses in the\nunfortunate man or woman victim certain very important\ncharacteristics for art, creates new powers in the insane\nand endows them with peculiar abilities.\nThere was a patient in the insane asylum of Toulon,\nFrance, an alcoholic of the worst kind. He was an artist\nwho had lost his sense of color distinction during the\ncourse of his disease. He had a desire to paint and was\nconscious of his inability to differentiate colors and, hence,\npainted entirely in white. During the last year of his\nlife, being drunk day and night, he produced some of the\nmost famous snow scenes ever executed in France. Three\nof his pictures, found among his belongings after he had\ndied in the asylum and unsigned, are hung in the Louvre\nin Paris. They are famous the world over as snow\nscenes, and students come from far and near to copy the\nmasterpieces.\nStraight line objects, uniformly and cylindrically shaped,\nlike childrens' toy building blocks possess an unusual fas-\ncination for insane artists. In Macerata, Italy, there was\nonce an insane artist, suffering from megalomania, who\nhad collected in the course of years thousands of pencils,\nsticks of wood and little building blocks. His mania was\nto arrange his toys in very irregular and formless fashions.\nThen, with the accuracy of an expert copyist he drafted\nhis creations on paper with charcoal and labeled them\nwith the most weird and fascinating names. One of\nthese characteristic drawings is preserved in Turin. It is\ncalled \"The Ascension to Heaven\"; the portrayal of a\njumbled heap of pencils roughly piled upon a stairway\nwhich hangs in mid-air.\nThe originality, says Lombroso in one of his disserta-\ntions, of all these works of art is absolutely striking. It is\nastonishing, like the drawing of a four-year-old child who\ntries to draw a cow after its first trip to the country. The\noutline of the child's picture can be understood only by\nthose who take an interest in the child and who study its\nways of expressing thought—who know what it means\nwhen it utters the funny conglomeration of vocals and\nconsonants, naming things in its own symbolical way.\nFew besides the mother of the child will recognize in the\nshapeless lines drawn by her darling the cow pointed out\na few days previously.\nThe physician should make not merely a diagnosis after\nstudying the patient's symptoms, but also study and ana-\nlyze the logic in thinking caused by the disease. He then\ndoes not find it difficult to be the Cicerone in the art gal-\nlery containing the insane artists' paintings.\nPatients suffering from megalomania or melancholia\nfrequently have delusions which make them sad, suspicious\nand distrustful. They feel the desire to communicate their\nfeelings to others, but often do not dare to do so. The\ninsane artist who labors under such delusions is inclined to\nexecute modeling work and it is in these moods that most\nof the masterpieces of insane artists are created.\nUnder no circumstances will the insane artist explain\nhis picture when asked its meaning. He will listen to no\ncritic and declines positively to enter into any argument\nor discussion of his paintings. He declares emphatically\nthat this or that work of art represents an expression of\nhis feelings—is a true picture of some object existing or to\nbe created in the near future.\nIn cases where the painting was a copy of something\nreally existing and the artist is confronted with the orig-\ninal and asked whether he does not see the difference be-\ntween the original and the copy, he will simply state that\nhis picture is his way of looking at the object. \"What\nyou see now will appear to you some time as my picture\n\nIn Our Village\nGenius and Insanity\nThe Greatest Collection of Insane Artists' Works\nA word to our own followers of all sorts of \"Isms\""}, {"page_pdf": 13, "page_imprimee": "865", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.13", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2968, "texte": "now appears,\" he will say. \"My picture is simply a\n'future' picture of the subject.\"\nThe name \"futurists\" has its origin in the reports of the\nsuperintendent of the insane asylum at Pavia, Italy. The\nreport was published November, 1866, for the current\nyear.\nAnd so it is: A voice predicting the future, speaking\nto us when we study the paintings of children and of in-\nsane artists.\nThe child has his life before it.\nThe voice of the future is nature's prediction of genius.\nThe insane artist has his life behind him.\nHe has returned to his childhood.\nHe has adopted childish ways of receiving impressions\nand giving them to others.\nIf his life would be long enough to permit him to go\nthrough the entire process of evolution, as the child will\npass through, there might not only be the chance but the\nwell-grounded hope of some great future work to come.\nBut, as it is, the mental capacity is reduced to the orig-\ninal state of the first years of his life.\nThe childish condition retrogrades in a similar way.\nSoon even the childlike, correct and logical but untrained\nmethod of thinking will be lost in the dark night of in-\nsanity.\nThe insane futurist will die in the progress of his dis-\nease and leave only his work, valuable in its significance\nas the product of an insane artist.\nIN that picturesque part of New York made immortal\nby O. Henry, the great romancier and short-story teller\nof \"The Bagdad on the Subway\" Miss Margaret Porter,\nhis daughter, married last week. Cesare, best cartoonist\nwe have in New York at present, the blonde Viking with\na ruddy pink complexion, was the chosen one. Miss\nPorter, several weeks ago, made her bow to story readers\nas Miss O. Henry, and Cesare left The Sun almost\nimmediately after Mr. Munsey got his clutches upon this\nold metropolitan newspaper, which he combined with\nhis New York Press. He joined the staff of the New\nYork Evening Post.\nCharles Peters returned recently from Servia with many\nhundreds of drawings done on the battlefields of the\nBalkans and in France. Two missions had led him to\nthe seat of war. He rendered his services to the American-\nServian Auxiliary Committee whose chief purpose had\nbeen to supply the Servian field hospitals with Rontgen\nmachines. Of course he did not leave behind his sketch\nbooks. He contemplates an exhibition of his work in the\nnear future.\nJack Flanagan's exhibition will be tacked to the walls\nof Bruno s Garret until July 30th. Every afternoon,\nfrom one till four, this exhibition is open to the public.\nLouise Allison is the self appointed patroness of Sheri-\ndan Square. Ably assisted by Jack MacGrath she will\ntry to reguild the time-worn splendor of this once aristo-\ncratic Square. She isn't quite prepared to disclose her\nfuture activities but there will be cabaret, a tea house\nand a quaint dancing place.\nEdith Unger has a charming \"drop-in-after-dinner-\nplace.\" The color scheme of that little basement of hers\nis fascinating.\n\nGuido Bruno"}, {"page_pdf": 14, "page_imprimee": "866", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.14", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 863, "texte": "Alfred Ernest Keet is again among us. After eight\nyears of varied activity in the West, he settled in New\nYork in 1893, joining the Editorial Staff of \"The Forum\"\nin succession to Ernest Lambert, formerly Secretary to\nthe late Hon. Whitelaw Reid. He became a shareholder\nand secretary to the Board of Directors, and was appointed\nthe editor of the review in 1895. In September, 1897,\nhe joined the editorial staff of the \"Atlantic Monthly,\"\nbecoming also one of Houghton Mifflin and Co.'s\nliterary advisers. In November, Mr. Astor appointed\nhim the American publisher, manager and consulting edi-\ntor of his various English publications. Several years\nlater- a sudden and very severe nervous breakdown necessi-\ntated a rest. For two years he travelled widely, visiting\nth Far East, attending the Tycho Brahe celebration on\nthe Island of Hven, etc."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-07-22-01-c033", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01#c033", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "866", "page_fin": "866", "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=bmtnaaq19160722-01.2.15", "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": 14, "page_imprimee": "866", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.14", "debut_caractere": 865, "fin_caractere_exclue": 5433, "texte": "Books and Magazines of the Week\n\nOscar Wilde's \"Reading Gaol\"\nOscar Wilde\nFrank Harris, through his remarkable \"Life of Oscar\nWilde and His Confessions\" revived the interest in Oscar\nWilde and his writings all over the country. Wilde's best\nknown work undoubtedly is his \"Ballad of Reading\nGaol.\" Mr. P. F. Madigan, the well-known collector\nof autographs, permitted me the reprinting of the follow-\ning letter of Oscar Wilde, relating to his first English\nand American edition of this greatest of all the epics in\nthe English language:\nTo Leonard Smithers, Esq.\n51 Santa Lucia,\nJan. 9th, '98.\nMy Dear Smithers:\nThe revise has never arrived and I have waited from\nday today for it. To wait longer would be foolish. I\nam sure it is all right, as regards your suggestion, or\nrequest that I should revert to in God's sweet world\nagain instead of for weal or woe again—(Canto II some-\nwhere). Certainly, Pray make the correction yourself.\nSecond thoughts in art are always, or often worst. The\nC. 3. 3. I enclose seems excellent. The C. T. W. of\nIn Memoriam page was better larger, as before, \"trooper\"\n(same page) should have a capital T.\nI think that \"in the Royal Horse Guards\" should be\nuof the Royal Horse Guards. I don't know, however,\nyou might ask. \"Of\" seems nicer.\nThe Cover, etc., I leave to you. The post here is\nimpossible, so pray, bring it all out as soon as possible,\nwithout further consultation. I, as all poets, am safe\nin your hands. As regards America, I think it would\nbe better now to publish there without my name. I see\nit is my name that terrifies. I hope an edition of some\nkind will appear. I cannot advise about what should be\ndone, but it seems to me that the withdrawal of my name\nis essential in America, as elsewhere, and the public like\nan open secret. Half of the success of Maria Corelli is\ndue to the, no doubt, unfounded rumour that she is a\nwoman. In other respects pray do as you like about Amer-\nica, but do see that there is some edition. I have had\nmany misfortunes since I wrote to you, Influenza, the\nrobbery during my absence in Sicily, of all my clothes, etc.,\nby a servant whom I left at the Villa, ill-health, loneliness,\nand general ennuij with a tragi-comedy of an existence—\nbut I want to see my poem out before I take steps,\nSincerely yours,\n\nErnest Dowson\nPOOR Ernest Dowson through his sufferings is be-\ncoming almost as famous as that earlier unhappy poet\nwho by self-destruction set apart his life in the sorrowful\nannals of literature. There were perhaps two Chatter-\ntons—who, at this long distance of time, can tell ? There\nwere certainly two Dowsons—one the vexed and torn\nspirit of the biographers, of Mr. Sherard and Mr. Arthur\nSymons, the other a Dowson \"intime,\" known, I venture\nto think, to very few, but by those few, greatly loved.\nThis intimate and perhaps essential Dowson appears,\nI am convinced, in these thirty or so letters, now for the\nfirst time published in full or in part. In them no ugly\nslur of passion, no ill savours, are to be found. Instead\nwe are refreshed by fragrance—transient and slight, per-\nhaps, yet evident—by fragrance, be it said again, and by\nan unfailing touch of good breeding, a gracious and in-\nsistent air of modesty—by something different, boyishly\nsly, often beautiful and noble.\nTo me the re-reading of these letters of his brings back\nmy friend as I knew him and love to remember him—\nthe gentleman, the kindly, charming, boyish friend, the\nscholar, the exquisite poet. I read and re-read through\ntears, and lay them down when I can see no more.\nFrater, ave atque vale!\nPreface to Ernest Dowson, 1883 to 1897, Reminiscences\nand unpublished letters and Marginalia by Victor Plarr,\nwith a bibliography compiled by H. Guy Harrison.\nLaurence J. Gomme, Publisher, New York, one dollar.\n\nBookplate Book\nThe American Bookplate Society announces the publi-\ncation of a volume dealing with the bookplates by the\nlate George W. Eve, written and compiled by Mr. George\nHeath Viner.\nThe artist's work will require no introduction, especially\nto bookplate connoisseurs by whom his work has long\nbeen highly prized and appreciated. To those unacquaint-\ned with it, the information may be of interest that the artist\nwas a Fellow of the Royal Society of Painters-Etchers;\nthe author of two books, Decorative Heraldry and Her-\naldry as. Art; that he frequently lectured on art and that\nhe executed, among other famous works, bookplates for\nQueen Victoria, King Edward, and King George, as well\nas work for the Welsh Investiture and many important\ngovernment and private commissions."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-07-22-01-c034", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01#c034", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "866", "page_fin": "866", "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=bmtnaaq19160722-01.2.15.1", "titre_corps": "Oscar Wilde's \"Reading Gaol\"", "titre_sommaire": "Oscar Wilde's \"Reading Gaol\"", "signature_source": "Oscar Wilde", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 14, "page_imprimee": "866", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.14", "debut_caractere": 898, "fin_caractere_exclue": 3154, "texte": "Oscar Wilde's \"Reading Gaol\"\nOscar Wilde\nFrank Harris, through his remarkable \"Life of Oscar\nWilde and His Confessions\" revived the interest in Oscar\nWilde and his writings all over the country. Wilde's best\nknown work undoubtedly is his \"Ballad of Reading\nGaol.\" Mr. P. F. Madigan, the well-known collector\nof autographs, permitted me the reprinting of the follow-\ning letter of Oscar Wilde, relating to his first English\nand American edition of this greatest of all the epics in\nthe English language:\nTo Leonard Smithers, Esq.\n51 Santa Lucia,\nJan. 9th, '98.\nMy Dear Smithers:\nThe revise has never arrived and I have waited from\nday today for it. To wait longer would be foolish. I\nam sure it is all right, as regards your suggestion, or\nrequest that I should revert to in God's sweet world\nagain instead of for weal or woe again—(Canto II some-\nwhere). Certainly, Pray make the correction yourself.\nSecond thoughts in art are always, or often worst. The\nC. 3. 3. I enclose seems excellent. The C. T. W. of\nIn Memoriam page was better larger, as before, \"trooper\"\n(same page) should have a capital T.\nI think that \"in the Royal Horse Guards\" should be\nuof the Royal Horse Guards. I don't know, however,\nyou might ask. \"Of\" seems nicer.\nThe Cover, etc., I leave to you. The post here is\nimpossible, so pray, bring it all out as soon as possible,\nwithout further consultation. I, as all poets, am safe\nin your hands. As regards America, I think it would\nbe better now to publish there without my name. I see\nit is my name that terrifies. I hope an edition of some\nkind will appear. I cannot advise about what should be\ndone, but it seems to me that the withdrawal of my name\nis essential in America, as elsewhere, and the public like\nan open secret. Half of the success of Maria Corelli is\ndue to the, no doubt, unfounded rumour that she is a\nwoman. In other respects pray do as you like about Amer-\nica, but do see that there is some edition. I have had\nmany misfortunes since I wrote to you, Influenza, the\nrobbery during my absence in Sicily, of all my clothes, etc.,\nby a servant whom I left at the Villa, ill-health, loneliness,\nand general ennuij with a tragi-comedy of an existence—\nbut I want to see my poem out before I take steps,\nSincerely yours,"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-07-22-01-c035", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01#c035", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "866", "page_fin": "866", "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=bmtnaaq19160722-01.2.15.2", "titre_corps": "Ernest Dowson", "titre_sommaire": "Ernest Dowson", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 14, "page_imprimee": "866", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.14", "debut_caractere": 3156, "fin_caractere_exclue": 4647, "texte": "Ernest Dowson\nPOOR Ernest Dowson through his sufferings is be-\ncoming almost as famous as that earlier unhappy poet\nwho by self-destruction set apart his life in the sorrowful\nannals of literature. There were perhaps two Chatter-\ntons—who, at this long distance of time, can tell ? There\nwere certainly two Dowsons—one the vexed and torn\nspirit of the biographers, of Mr. Sherard and Mr. Arthur\nSymons, the other a Dowson \"intime,\" known, I venture\nto think, to very few, but by those few, greatly loved.\nThis intimate and perhaps essential Dowson appears,\nI am convinced, in these thirty or so letters, now for the\nfirst time published in full or in part. In them no ugly\nslur of passion, no ill savours, are to be found. Instead\nwe are refreshed by fragrance—transient and slight, per-\nhaps, yet evident—by fragrance, be it said again, and by\nan unfailing touch of good breeding, a gracious and in-\nsistent air of modesty—by something different, boyishly\nsly, often beautiful and noble.\nTo me the re-reading of these letters of his brings back\nmy friend as I knew him and love to remember him—\nthe gentleman, the kindly, charming, boyish friend, the\nscholar, the exquisite poet. I read and re-read through\ntears, and lay them down when I can see no more.\nFrater, ave atque vale!\nPreface to Ernest Dowson, 1883 to 1897, Reminiscences\nand unpublished letters and Marginalia by Victor Plarr,\nwith a bibliography compiled by H. Guy Harrison.\nLaurence J. Gomme, Publisher, New York, one dollar."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-07-22-01-c036", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01#c036", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "866", "page_fin": "866", "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=bmtnaaq19160722-01.2.15.3", "titre_corps": "Bookplate Book", "titre_sommaire": "Bookplate Book", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 14, "page_imprimee": "866", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.14", "debut_caractere": 4649, "fin_caractere_exclue": 5433, "texte": "Bookplate Book\nThe American Bookplate Society announces the publi-\ncation of a volume dealing with the bookplates by the\nlate George W. Eve, written and compiled by Mr. George\nHeath Viner.\nThe artist's work will require no introduction, especially\nto bookplate connoisseurs by whom his work has long\nbeen highly prized and appreciated. To those unacquaint-\ned with it, the information may be of interest that the artist\nwas a Fellow of the Royal Society of Painters-Etchers;\nthe author of two books, Decorative Heraldry and Her-\naldry as. Art; that he frequently lectured on art and that\nhe executed, among other famous works, bookplates for\nQueen Victoria, King Edward, and King George, as well\nas work for the Welsh Investiture and many important\ngovernment and private commissions."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-07-22-01-c038", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01#c038", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "867", "page_fin": "868", "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=bmtnaaq19160722-01.2.17", "titre_corps": "The Lion's Mouth", "titre_sommaire": "The Lion's Mouth", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 15, "page_imprimee": "867", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.15", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2834, "texte": "The Lion's Mouth\n\nJack Carney\nIVe thank you for the compliment and njue only wish it were\ntrue, especially that private car of ours.\nJuly 11th, 1916.\nWashington Square Benches\nBetween 12 p. m.and 6 a. m.\n| My Dear Bruno:\nWhy I should be so familiar, heaven only knows,\nYou suggest a novel solution to the Busmen's strike, and I\nhave no doubt your supercillious following, will applaud this\nyour latest stunt. The world to-day is in a deplorable state,\n* artist and Bohemian friends of mine stand facing each other\nwith rifle and bayonet as foes. Over 100,000 girls in England,\nwill give birth to children. Their \"fathers\" have left their\nmothers in the lurch. Hundreds of young men have been\n| rendered physically unfit for life. In New York your school\n1 children are going to be taught to kill. I have visited Scotland,\nEngland, Wales, Ireland, Canada, France and America; still\nthe passions of war are uppermost in the people's minds, after\ntwenty months of the bloody contest between the Allies and\nGermany.\nYou, Bruno, object to the Buses running through Washington\nSquare, in the usual selfish nature of our \"intellectual\" freaks.\nIt is because men like yourself, possessed with a mightier power\nthan the sword, the power of the pen, have prostituted your-\nselves. You ride about in a motor-car. The poor devils that\ncome nightly to Washington Square, cannot afford a motor-car,\nso they pay ten cents and enjoy a ride on a bus, in the same\nway that you enjoy a ride in a motor-car. These poor devils\nhave committed a terrible crime, they have allowed themselves\nto be born from a poor family.\nBruno, just begin to be an artist and a real writer. Tell the\npeople to get out of the slums, just show them the way out, but\nfor heaven's sake do not tell them to go back to them. The\nreal artist, like William Morris, wants a beautiful world for\nall, but they know that while one part is hideous the effect of\nthe beautiful part is hidden. Bring Frank Harris into your\nconfidence and let Frank give us something more like he used to\ndo. London is lost without Frank. Fleet St. feels his loss, I\nmean the real Fleet St. Bohemian, not the prostitutes of Car-\nmelite House.\nBruno, perhaps I might do better with your paper. Let me\npublish it for one week.\nYours for a free life,\n\nMarjorie Lucile Clark, of Yonkers, Admires Us\nr\\ H, Guido Bruno, thy Weekly Book\nDoth feed the minds of men.\nDoth make them think,\nDoth bring the tear,\nTo some, give cheer.\nBut, oh; to those who sorrowing\nScan eagerly your pages\nFor some balm of healing—\nAh, Guido Bruno, knowest thou not pure joy?\n\nAn Ardent Admirer of Poet Tarleton Winchester\nSomewhere in New York, July 13th, 1916.\nDear Guido Bruno:\nCongratulations!!! Rarely does it fall to the lot of an Editor\nto be the discoverer of a real poet. What pride, what joy,\nmust be yours I"}, {"page_pdf": 15, "page_imprimee": "867", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.15", "debut_caractere": 2886, "fin_caractere_exclue": 4664, "texte": "Pillars of a Temple Beautiful,\nHid in the dusk of darkness,\nBut crowned with a light never-failing!\nPillars supporting the mystery\nVeiled in the shadow!\nPillars which reel\nIn the joy of their upholdings!\nAnd, Heavens to Betsy,\nThey've got on bloomers!!\n\nW.J. Lampton\n\nBruno:— Poets are not polite propositions, are they?\nOtherwise I, a practical poet, would not have written\nwhat is herewith enclosed. You being an editor will not\ndare print them, so only you and I of all the world of\n\nP.C.C.\nI have known him for more than a year; and because I like\nhim more than well I have studied him closely; yet never have\nI even suspected that the object of my admiration and affection\nis in truth a genius—born of Heaven—a veritable Prometheus\nsnatching a bit of the Divine fire and bringing it to earth for\nthe betterment of mankind.\nJudge, then, my amazement when I read last night, in Vol.\n111., No. 4, those exquisite lines: \"To Fourteenth Street.\" What\ndepth of feeling: what delicacy of expression: what beauty of\nthought: what melody of rhythm are in those five lines!! I\nknow now how Adam felt when he woke to find Eve beside\nhim. I can imagine him saying to himself: \"What! That\nglorious creature MY RIB? Just to think: I've been lugging\nthat around all my life and never even knew it!\" And so did\nI say to myself: \"What! That chap a POET? Just to thinkr\nI've known him a year and never suspected it.\"\nThere is but one regret. When so much can be given to the\nworld in five lines, it's a pity he did not write ten.\nAgain I congratulate you—and ask that you convey my con-\ngratulations to him. I'd do it myself, but never more shall\nI approach him other than in a spirit of humility too deep to\npermit me to offer praise.\nSincerely,\np, s.—What in God's name does the poem mean?"}, {"page_pdf": 16, "page_imprimee": "868", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.16", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 965, "texte": "imagery and imagisery will know of them. If Clara ever\nsees them, both of us are done for—l for having written\nthem, and you for having shown them to her. There is\na sacred bond betwixt us. Cave canem!!! Look out for\nVarna!!\nYours,\n\nLampton\n\nLet This Cup Pass Too, Oh Lord!\nRichard le Galienne\nRichard le Galienne celebrated his fiftieth birthday and\nhere is the letter in which he declined to give me an inter-\nview for this occasion:\nRowayton, Conn.\nSaturday.\nDear Mr. Bruno:—lt is bad enough to have attained\nthe bad eminence of \"fifty,\" without under-going any\npublic celebration of the fact; though I am sure you would\nplace the laurel on my grizzling hair with a distinguished\ngesture. So please excuse my declining the honor, much\nas I appreciate your kindness in tendering it to me.\nWait till I'm sixty! Between now and then, too, I hope\nto have done something better worth writing about.\n*'Even in our ashes . . \" you know.\nYours sincerely,"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-07-22-01-c039", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01#c039", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "867", "page_fin": "867", "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=bmtnaaq19160722-01.2.17.1", "titre_corps": "IVe thank you for the compliment and njue only wish it were", "titre_sommaire": "IVe thank you for the compliment and njue only wish it were", "signature_source": "Jack Carney", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 15, "page_imprimee": "867", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.15", "debut_caractere": 34, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2291, "texte": "Jack Carney\nIVe thank you for the compliment and njue only wish it were\ntrue, especially that private car of ours.\nJuly 11th, 1916.\nWashington Square Benches\nBetween 12 p. m.and 6 a. m.\n| My Dear Bruno:\nWhy I should be so familiar, heaven only knows,\nYou suggest a novel solution to the Busmen's strike, and I\nhave no doubt your supercillious following, will applaud this\nyour latest stunt. The world to-day is in a deplorable state,\n* artist and Bohemian friends of mine stand facing each other\nwith rifle and bayonet as foes. Over 100,000 girls in England,\nwill give birth to children. Their \"fathers\" have left their\nmothers in the lurch. Hundreds of young men have been\n| rendered physically unfit for life. In New York your school\n1 children are going to be taught to kill. I have visited Scotland,\nEngland, Wales, Ireland, Canada, France and America; still\nthe passions of war are uppermost in the people's minds, after\ntwenty months of the bloody contest between the Allies and\nGermany.\nYou, Bruno, object to the Buses running through Washington\nSquare, in the usual selfish nature of our \"intellectual\" freaks.\nIt is because men like yourself, possessed with a mightier power\nthan the sword, the power of the pen, have prostituted your-\nselves. You ride about in a motor-car. The poor devils that\ncome nightly to Washington Square, cannot afford a motor-car,\nso they pay ten cents and enjoy a ride on a bus, in the same\nway that you enjoy a ride in a motor-car. These poor devils\nhave committed a terrible crime, they have allowed themselves\nto be born from a poor family.\nBruno, just begin to be an artist and a real writer. Tell the\npeople to get out of the slums, just show them the way out, but\nfor heaven's sake do not tell them to go back to them. The\nreal artist, like William Morris, wants a beautiful world for\nall, but they know that while one part is hideous the effect of\nthe beautiful part is hidden. Bring Frank Harris into your\nconfidence and let Frank give us something more like he used to\ndo. London is lost without Frank. Fleet St. feels his loss, I\nmean the real Fleet St. Bohemian, not the prostitutes of Car-\nmelite House.\nBruno, perhaps I might do better with your paper. Let me\npublish it for one week.\nYours for a free life,"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-07-22-01-c040", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01#c040", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "867", "page_fin": "867", "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=bmtnaaq19160722-01.2.17.2", "titre_corps": "Marjorie Lucile Clark, of Yonkers, Admires Us", "titre_sommaire": "Marjorie Lucile Clark, of Yonkers, Admires Us", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 15, "page_imprimee": "867", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.15", "debut_caractere": 2293, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2591, "texte": "Marjorie Lucile Clark, of Yonkers, Admires Us\nr\\ H, Guido Bruno, thy Weekly Book\nDoth feed the minds of men.\nDoth make them think,\nDoth bring the tear,\nTo some, give cheer.\nBut, oh; to those who sorrowing\nScan eagerly your pages\nFor some balm of healing—\nAh, Guido Bruno, knowest thou not pure joy?"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-07-22-01-c041", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01#c041", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "867", "page_fin": "867", "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=bmtnaaq19160722-01.2.17.3", "titre_corps": "An Ardent Admirer of Poet Tarleton Winchester", "titre_sommaire": "An Ardent Admirer of Poet Tarleton Winchester", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 15, "page_imprimee": "867", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.15", "debut_caractere": 2593, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2834, "texte": "An Ardent Admirer of Poet Tarleton Winchester\nSomewhere in New York, July 13th, 1916.\nDear Guido Bruno:\nCongratulations!!! Rarely does it fall to the lot of an Editor\nto be the discoverer of a real poet. What pride, what joy,\nmust be yours I"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-07-22-01-c042", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01#c042", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "867", "page_fin": "867", "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=bmtnaaq19160722-01.2.17.4", "titre_corps": "I have known him for more than a year; and because I like", "titre_sommaire": "I have known him for more than a year; and because I like", "signature_source": "P.C. C", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 15, "page_imprimee": "867", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.15", "debut_caractere": 3373, "fin_caractere_exclue": 4664, "texte": "P.C.C.\nI have known him for more than a year; and because I like\nhim more than well I have studied him closely; yet never have\nI even suspected that the object of my admiration and affection\nis in truth a genius—born of Heaven—a veritable Prometheus\nsnatching a bit of the Divine fire and bringing it to earth for\nthe betterment of mankind.\nJudge, then, my amazement when I read last night, in Vol.\n111., No. 4, those exquisite lines: \"To Fourteenth Street.\" What\ndepth of feeling: what delicacy of expression: what beauty of\nthought: what melody of rhythm are in those five lines!! I\nknow now how Adam felt when he woke to find Eve beside\nhim. I can imagine him saying to himself: \"What! That\nglorious creature MY RIB? Just to think: I've been lugging\nthat around all my life and never even knew it!\" And so did\nI say to myself: \"What! That chap a POET? Just to thinkr\nI've known him a year and never suspected it.\"\nThere is but one regret. When so much can be given to the\nworld in five lines, it's a pity he did not write ten.\nAgain I congratulate you—and ask that you convey my con-\ngratulations to him. I'd do it myself, but never more shall\nI approach him other than in a spirit of humility too deep to\npermit me to offer praise.\nSincerely,\np, s.—What in God's name does the poem mean?"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-07-22-01-c043", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01#c043", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "867", "page_fin": "867", "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=bmtnaaq19160722-01.2.17.5", "titre_corps": "Pillars of a Temple Beautiful,", "titre_sommaire": "Pillars of a Temple Beautiful,", "signature_source": "W.J. Lampton", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 15, "page_imprimee": "867", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.15", "debut_caractere": 2886, "fin_caractere_exclue": 3152, "texte": "Pillars of a Temple Beautiful,\nHid in the dusk of darkness,\nBut crowned with a light never-failing!\nPillars supporting the mystery\nVeiled in the shadow!\nPillars which reel\nIn the joy of their upholdings!\nAnd, Heavens to Betsy,\nThey've got on bloomers!!\n\nW.J. Lampton"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-07-22-01-c044", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01#c044", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "867", "page_fin": "867", "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=bmtnaaq19160722-01.2.17.5.1", "titre_corps": "Drawing by Clara Tice That Inspired Colonel Bill", "titre_sommaire": "Drawing by Clara Tice That Inspired Colonel Bill", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 15, "page_imprimee": "867", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.15", "debut_caractere": 2836, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2884, "texte": "Drawing by Clara Tice That Inspired Colonel Bill"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-07-22-01-c045", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01#c045", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "867", "page_fin": "868", "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=bmtnaaq19160722-01.2.17.6", "titre_corps": "Bruno:— Poets are not polite propositions, are they?", "titre_sommaire": "Bruno:— Poets are not polite propositions, are they?", "signature_source": "Lampton", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 15, "page_imprimee": "867", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.15", "debut_caractere": 3154, "fin_caractere_exclue": 3371, "texte": "Bruno:— Poets are not polite propositions, are they?\nOtherwise I, a practical poet, would not have written\nwhat is herewith enclosed. You being an editor will not\ndare print them, so only you and I of all the world of"}, {"page_pdf": 16, "page_imprimee": "868", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.16", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 256, "texte": "imagery and imagisery will know of them. If Clara ever\nsees them, both of us are done for—l for having written\nthem, and you for having shown them to her. There is\na sacred bond betwixt us. Cave canem!!! Look out for\nVarna!!\nYours,\n\nLampton"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-07-22-01-c046", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01#c046", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "868", "page_fin": "868", "image_debut": 16, "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=bmtnaaq19160722-01.2.17.7", "titre_corps": "Let This Cup Pass Too, Oh Lord!", "titre_sommaire": "Let This Cup Pass Too, Oh Lord!", "signature_source": "Richard le Galienne", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 16, "page_imprimee": "868", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.16", "debut_caractere": 258, "fin_caractere_exclue": 965, "texte": "Let This Cup Pass Too, Oh Lord!\nRichard le Galienne\nRichard le Galienne celebrated his fiftieth birthday and\nhere is the letter in which he declined to give me an inter-\nview for this occasion:\nRowayton, Conn.\nSaturday.\nDear Mr. Bruno:—lt is bad enough to have attained\nthe bad eminence of \"fifty,\" without under-going any\npublic celebration of the fact; though I am sure you would\nplace the laurel on my grizzling hair with a distinguished\ngesture. So please excuse my declining the honor, much\nas I appreciate your kindness in tendering it to me.\nWait till I'm sixty! Between now and then, too, I hope\nto have done something better worth writing about.\n*'Even in our ashes . . \" you know.\nYours sincerely,"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-07-22-01-c047", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01#c047", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "868", "page_fin": "869", "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=bmtnaaq19160722-01.2.18", "titre_corps": "Jean", "titre_sommaire": "Jean", "signature_source": "Orrick Johns", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 16, "page_imprimee": "868", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.16", "debut_caractere": 967, "fin_caractere_exclue": 6198, "texte": "Jean\nBy Orrick Johns\n\nVER in Still Creek Valley, the trains rumbled all\nday long, going in and out of the city. On one\nof the dirt streets running north from this smoking thor-\noughfare lived Martin Hupp and his mother. They lived\non the ground floor of a little two-storied house of red\nbrick, which had been painted over and over again. On\nthe inside it looked like it had been half-scrubbed away.\nThere were depressions in the floors where bristles and\nsoap had left their mark. Even the furniture looked\ncolorless and grooved from too diligent cleaning. But of\nlate the dust had begun to settle, and the smoke from the\ntrains was awful, since there was no one to keep it down\nlike the old woman used to.\nThe old woman was going off her head, and getting\nweaker and nobody seemed to know what was the matter\nwith her at all. But Martin thought it was just old age,\nbecause she had always been like that, only now she was\nworse. He had to begin doing the work and cooking\nsupper after he got home. She sat in her old chair and\ngrumbled at him. She said he was as worthless as his\nfather had been before he died. \"You couldn't use your\nhands—none of you—and surely it wasn't from me you\ngot shiftless ways.\" Martin paid no attention to what\nshe said, except sometimes to tell her to shut up; he was\nkeeping her and maybe they would do better by her at the\nhome for old folks. She said, \"Mighty poor keeping.\"\nWhen his father was living he always saw him make\nher stop nagging by slapping her. One time when his\nfather was in a towering rage, he gave her a sound kiss,\nwhich was ridiculous to Martin, because they were both\nso old. But she did not seem to like it, because she held\nher tongue for two days. He guessed she had always\nbeen bitter and wrinkled. He would have had to laugh\nright out if anybody said she ever was pretty, or looked\nlike girls looked. Because, when he first knew them, both\nhis father and mother were old. He learned by their\ntalk that he had a brother and a sister. They went away\nsome time when he was little and the old people never\nanswered whether it was for good or bad. They argued\nabout them a lot, but they never seemed to have a good\nword for them. When Martin did anything the old\nwoman did not like, her tongue was a whip. \"Your pa\nwas just like you. His friends all got up in the world,\nbut he sat still and dirtied the floor with his pipe. He\nburnt a hole in my wedding dress. Don't you ever let me\nsee you bein' proud of yourself, Martin Hupp.\" Mr.\nHupp once wrote a poem called \"Billy McCann.\"\nOn the day of Mr. Hupp's funeral she took Martin\nhome and told him all his father's faults. He thought\nit sounded like she was reading from the Scriptures. It\nwas a joke, too, because—what good did it do? At the\nend she told him he inherited them all, and what's more,\nthey would never leave him. She said: \"You'd just as\nwell kill yourself as even look at a whiskey bottle.\" She\nsaid not one of her children had red hair, as she had,\nwhich was proof enough for her. It had always been a\nsign in her family that only the red-heads turned out\nright. Martin was satisfied God meant people to be\nbitter like his mother and not to like anything. Even\nwhen people worked hard she grumbled, too. He told\nher, what if he did work, she jumped him anyhow—and\nhis hands scarred from the cutting when he came home\nlate every night to do housework.\nShe said Johnny Mcßride was making more money than\nhe—the Bentz woman told her. \"The Bentz woman\nis a liar, because I caught her in more than one,\" he\nanswered. He thought he had reason for hating Johnnj-\nMcßride, as he always did. He knew if he stayed there\ntalking to her like that any longer he would be sorry he\nhad not left her sooner, so he went to bed. He wanted\nto slam the door as 'he went out, but his hand brought it\nto silently. He held his feet in both hands in bed and\nwondered where to get the money for her funeral.\nIn his work he had all day to run a knife on leather\nsheets, cutting out parts that, later, were sewed into the\nbody of the shoe. The knife was sharp and it was tempta-\ntion to work fast. He could hardly remember a day he\ndid not get a fresh mark on his hand where the knife went\nwrong. Martin was the clumsiest cutter in the factor}*\nHe knew, because everybody seemed to try to keep from\ntalking to him about it. His mother said it was too skill-\nful a kind of work for a Hupp. He sometimes stopped his\nears so as not to hear what she said, but when he heard\nher he always had to believe her. After she scolded him\nhe always worked harder. The company said they would\ngive a prize to whoever did the best work for some special\nshoes. Everybody did their best and held their breath\nuntil they found out who won. One day a man came\nin and said Martin won. They were all so surprised they\ndid not even ask to look what he got. He put it in his\npocket right away. It was a red-colored medal with a\nshoe on one side. He was afraid to show it to his mother.\nBut at last he threw it on the table as though he did not\ncare about it and told her how he got it. She only\nlaughed at it. \"Now, you'll be getting the big head and\ndoing things worse and worse. It's better to be makin'\nthings like that. Nobody was ever any good that ever"}, {"page_pdf": 17, "page_imprimee": "869", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.17", "debut_caractere": 34, "fin_caractere_exclue": 3171, "texte": "won anything.'*\nIn March, one night, when it was still cold, Martin\nwas setting the table. Everything was clean and tied up\nall over the house. He asked his mother if she had been\nmoving around some,\n\"I ain't been out of this chair, and you didn't even\nbring me a newspaper, though Lord knows there's nuthin'\nin 'em,\" she said. \"You're thinkin' about the house-\ncleanin'; if you wouldn't be hidin' your thoughts and\nwould ever tell the truth. You're a suspicious one. Well,\nit wasn't me that done it, as you might see if you looked\nat that pile of dust over there, which I've been seein'\nright under my nose all day long, and at the bed pulled\nout that ain't been half pushed back. You're a smart\none puttin' that skinny Mcßride girl up to comin' in her\nand doin' my work.\"\nMartin did not say anything then. The Mcßride\ngirl spoke to him so sharply, he wondered why she hated\nhim. But he felt like going right out of the house to find\nher. He told his mother, after he thought, that he was\nglad the Mcßride girl knew something. She said: \"You\nneedn't go on about it, boy. If any more strangers come\naround my house actin' like they don't have work of their\nown to do, I know how to make 'em feel they're not\nwanted. Charity is for folks that ask for it, and when\nother people do your work look out for trouble. I'm\nnot hankerin' for more than I've got and you'll have to\nbe sendin' her away.\" She stopped and looked at Martin\nso hard he thought she was getting ready to jump up at\nhim. \"Martin, the most wicked thing you could do\nwould be marryin\" she said.\nHe ate everything in sight that she left, and ran down\nthe street. The back door of the Mcßride house was\nclosed and the kitchen was dark. Somebody struck a\nmatch. In a few minutes Jean came to the door'and said,\n\"Oh, Martin Hupp.\" He pulled his cap off his tousled\nhair. \"Are you drunk?\" she said. \"I mean because\nfather is, and you never came to see me before.\" Martin\nasked her to go to the picture show. \"I don't like them,\nyou know,\" she said. \"All the other girls do and I don't\nsee why you asked me instead of them.\" She held out a\nhandful of her pale, yellow hair, laughing. \"I've just\nwashed it; smell it. It smells like soap. It'll look awful.\nShall we go to the one that's just opened?\"\nShe told Martin to wait outside. He thought he was\nafraid of her—she talked just like his mother, about any-\nthing that came into her head. Anyway, if she said\nanything again about not wanting to go with him—he\nwould just walk away from her. He thanked her first\nfor helping his mother, as soon as she came back. He\nthought she acted ashamed. Everybody called her ugly,\nand he guessed, after all, she was, though he could not\nhelp looking at her.\nAfter he thanked her, they were both silent, and then\nJean laughed. .\"She hates me awful,\" she said. \"You\ncan't tell me she's your mother, because I never thought\nyou looked like her at all. I never do things when I\nhave to ,do you? Unless somebody makes me. I did it\nbecause I just saw it made your mother mad. Mamma\nmakes me sew, and I don't mind, because I put things\ntogether wrong. I can't help. She has to do it all over\nagain.\""}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-07-22-01-c048", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01#c048", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "869", "page_fin": "869", "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=bmtnaaq19160722-01.2.18.1", "titre_corps": "Poet and Flower. By Djuna Barnes", "titre_sommaire": "Poet and Flower. By Djuna Barnes", "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": "869", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.17", "debut_caractere": 3173, "fin_caractere_exclue": 3205, "texte": "Poet and Flower. By Djuna Barnes"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-07-22-01-c049", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01#c049", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "870", "page_fin": "870", "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=bmtnaaq19160722-01.2.19", "titre_corps": "Fortieth Anniversary of The Custer Fight", "titre_sommaire": "Fortieth Anniversary of The Custer Fight", "signature_source": "Frank Fiske", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 18, "page_imprimee": "870", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.18", "debut_caractere": 301, "fin_caractere_exclue": 4419, "texte": "Fortieth Anniversary of The Custer Fight\nBy Frank Fiske\nFort Yates, N. Dak.\nIN this day and age when the greatest battles of the\nworld's history are being fought, it is hard for a busy\nman to keep posted on the rapid march of events. In\norder to be well informed on the progress of the several\nconflicts now going on we cannot devote much time to a\nstudy of the battles of a bygone day. And we are so\naccustomed to hearing about the slaughter of men by the\ntens of thousands that a battle in which a few hundred\nmen are killed is given scant attention.\nBut forty years ago all the world was interested in the\ncampaign of the United States troops against the Sioux\nIndians of the Northwest, and General G. A. Custer was\na national hero.\nOn the 25th day-of June, 1876, the Seventh Cavalry\nunder command of Custer, met the Sioux Indians under\nGall, Crazy Horse, Inkpaduta, Black Moon and Sitting\nBull. The Indian camp was found upon the west side\nof the Little Big Horn River and was reached by Custer's\ncommand at about nine o'clock in the morning. Custer\nsent Major Reno with three troops to attack it from\nthe south, and Captain Benteen with three troops to\nprevent the Indians from retreating to the west, and\nCaptain McDougal with one troop was left to guard the\npack train, while Custer, with five troops, moved to the\nnorth, down the river, to attack the camp at the upper\nend.\nEvery school boy in the land knows what happened.\nReno was forced to retreat to the east side of the river\nwhere he entrenched his troops on the top of a hill. He\nwas joined here by Benteen and McDougal, while Custer\nand his men were wiped out to the last man.\nWhile this fight may seem quite insignificant when\ncompared with our modern battles, the men who fought\nand died there were every bit as brave as the heroes of\nto-day.\nAnd so, in commemoration of the event, the fortieth\nanniversary of the fight was celebrated in a fitting manner\non the battle field beside the picturesque Little Big Horn\nRiver in Montana. White and Indian survivors of the\ntroublous times of '76 met there to pass around the pipe\nof peace, and pledge themselves to an everlasting friend-\nship and a solemn dedication of their services to the better-\nment of the races, red and white.\nReams and reams of paper have been filled with descrip-\ntions of the Custer Fight. Hours and hours, that have\nlengthened into many a long day have been spent by\nstudents of Indian warfare in telling just how it came\nabout. The men who were in the country then, the\nsoldiers, scouts and trappers, each has had his own version\nof the affair to tell, and nearly all of them have written\nbooks about it. There has been many an argument brought\nup by these survivors, and many a question asked that\nhas remained unanswered, until one can hardly blame\nsome people who refuse to believe what they hear or half\nthey see.\nI suppose that the aevarge reader of this article will\nnot believe that I have written the original copy on a\nfield desk that was used by General Custer. The very\ndesk where he penned such glowing accounts of his travels\nthrough the wild and untamed west. lam sure that many\nof the old timers will say that it is not his desk, but I\nwill continue to believe it is until presented with mighty\nstrong evidence to the contrary.\nWe have positive proof that Curly, the Crow scout, was\nthe-only man with Custer's command who got out alive.\nBut from time to time we see newspaper accounts of the\ndiscoverer of \"the only survivor of the fight.\" These\n\"survivors\" have amounted to quite a number, and if\nthey could all be brought together, they would constitute\na body of men far in excess of the number who actually\nwere with Custer. Taking their word for it, we find that\nnot a man was killed excepting the general, and we may\nfind him bobbing up in some unexpected corner in the\nvicinity of one of our insane asylums, perhaps.\nDid Custer really wear long hair? Was it yellow?\nAnd did he wear a buckskin suit?\nAt what time of day did the fight take place?\nDid the Indians know who they were fighting, and\nwhat they were fighting about? And did they mutilate\nthe dead?"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-07-22-01-c050", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01#c050", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "870", "page_fin": "870", "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=bmtnaaq19160722-01.2.20", "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": "870", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.18", "debut_caractere": 4421, "fin_caractere_exclue": 4601, "texte": "Read FRANK HARRIS' \"LIFE OF OSCAR\nWILDE AND HIS CONFESSIONS\"\nWrite for the prospectus which will be mailed to you free of charge by Frank Harris, 3 Washington Square, New York City"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-07-22-01-c052", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01#c052", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-07-22_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "[872]", "page_fin": "[872]", "image_debut": 20, "image_fin": 20, "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=bmtnaaq19160722-01.2.22", "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": 20, "page_imprimee": "[872]", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.20", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1690, "texte": "Rare Books First Editions\nExtra Illustrated Books. Early Printed Books. Association Books. Books for Christinas Gifts.\nPurchased singly or in sets lor people who have neither time nor opportunity to select for themselves,\n•r for those who have not access to the best book marts. Why not begin collecting now?\nAddress, E. V. Boston Transcript, Boston, Mass.\nFor Houses, Apartments or Rooms, See\nPEPE & BRO.\nREAL ESTATE AND INSURANCE\n40 So. Washington Smn\nTelephone 4119 Spring\nCor. of MacDougal Street\nBeing a book\nINWH I C H\nwe say just what we think. Published every month by Norman-Bel Geddes at 171 Wilson Avenue\nin Detroit, Michigan. It is a little book uniquely illustrated. Write for sample copy.\nI BUY BOOKS\nSingle volumes, small lots, and libraries; autograph letters of known literary men and\nartists, drawings, pictures and engravings. Address\n\"COLLECTOR,\" Care of Bruno's Weekly, 58 Washington Sq.\nROSSI BROTHERS\n58 Washington Square\nUnderneath the Garret\nICE CREAM AND TOBACCO\nThe Mad Hatter Has a Tea Party Every Afternoon\nFrom 3 to 6 at\n150 WEST FOURTH STREET\nJust Down the Rabbit Hole From Washington Square\n\"Take Some More Tea\"\n\"I've Had Nothing Yet So I Can't Take More\"\n\"You Mean You Can't Take Less, It's Very Easy to\nTake More Than Nothing/'\n\"Nobody Asked Your Opinion\" Edith Unger.\nThere can be no pleasanter place to hear that remarkable\nEdison Record Number (82536) than\nTHE DIAMOND DISC SHOP\nat Number 10 Fifth Avenue\ni\ni\nIn this store, at least, the delightful atmosphere of Old Greenwich Village has not been\non die altar erf commercialism\nPhone: Stuyvesant 4570\nA postal will bring you, with our compliments,\nan interesting little biography of Mr. Then. A.\nEdison"}]}], "pages_ocr_originales": [{"page_pdf": 1, "page_imprimee": "couv. 1", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.1", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\nEDITED BY GUIDO BRUNO IN HIS GARRET ON\nWASHINGTON SQUARE\nFive Cents July 22nd, 1916\nw. & G."}, {"page_pdf": 2, "page_imprimee": "[854]", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.2", "texte": "Copyright by Guich Bruno, July 22nd, J 916. Original matter,\nincluding all drawings, may not be reproduced without permission\nof Guido Bruno; but that permission may be assumed if credit\nis given to author and Bruno's Weakly.\nOne Hundred Dollars for the\nStory of Your Marriage\nBruno's Weekly will pay one hundred dollars for the best story setting\nforth why and how you were married.\nWe don't want literary masterpieces or extraordinary stories of adven-\nture. But there is a lot of romance and fragrance about those days\nwhen you two met. You know you like to recall those times even if\neverything has changed since.\nWrite down your story just as simply as it happened. We shall noli\nuse your name if you do not wish us to do so.\nThere is no better fiction than the one Fate writes upon the pages of\nour lives. We know your story will be enjoyed by lots of others. Write\nit down to-day and address it to the \"Contest Editor,\" Bruno's Weekly,\n58 Washington Square, New York City.\nEvery week those stories which are printed will be paid for at space\nrates. * The contest will close on October Ist, 1916, and the stories\nshould be limited to three hundred words. Detailed conditions of the\nmarriage story contest will be mailed to you upon request"}, {"page_pdf": 3, "page_imprimee": "[855]", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.3", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\nEdited by Guido Bruno in His Garret on Washington Square\nNo. 6\nJULY 22d, MCMXVI\nVol. 11l\nCopyright 1916 by Guido Bruno.\n\nDum nos fata sinunt, oculos satiemus Amore\nErnest Dowson\nPro per tins\nsmiling, Dear! a little while be sad,\nHere in the silence, under the wan moon;\nSweet are thine eyes, but how can I be glad,\nKnowing they change so soon?\nFor Love's sake, Dear, be silent! Cover me\nIn the deep darkness of thy falling hair:\nFear is upon me and the memory\nOf what is all men's share.\nO could this moment be perpetuate!\nMust we grow old, and leaden-eyed and gray,\nAnd taste no more the wild and passionate\nLove sorrows of to-day?\nGrown old, and faded, Sweet! and past desire,\nLet memory die, lest there be too much truth,\nRemembering the old, extinguished fire\nOf our divine, lost youth.\nO red pomegranate of thy perfect mouth!\nMy lips' life-fruitage, might I taste and die,\nHere in thy garden, where the scented south\nWind chastens angony;\nReap death from thy live lips in one long kiss,\nAnd look my last into thine eyes and rest:\nWhat sweets had life to me sweeter than this\nSwift dying on thy breast?\nOr, if that may not be, for Love's sake, Dear!\nKeep silence still, and dream that we shall lie,\nRed mouth to mouth, entwined, and always hear\nThe south wind's melody.\nHere in thy garden, through the sighing boughs,\nBeyond the reach of time and chance and change,\nAnd bitter life and death, and broken vows,\nThat sadden and estrange.\n\nGerman Princes in Rank and File\n\nL_J OWEVER the world may regard the militaristic\n* * status of Germany, it can never for an instant deny\nthat the rulers of Germany have been ready to sacrifice\nnot only the lives of their subjects, but their own lives\nand the lives of their sons as well, to the maintenance of\nthat idea. Dispatches from the front and from the\nvarious sources of our information attest beyond a doubt\nthat the Kaiser, his six sons, the rulers of all the German\nstates and their sons, the dukes and petty princes with\nwhich the country abounds, are all daily facing death on\nthe battlefields of France and Poland. Their idea of\nmanhood may be in the last analysis erroneous, but for\nthem, at least, it is a vital one. *And they are willing, even\nanxious, to sacrifice their lives for the ideal which they\nhold dearer than life. Critics may decry the Kaiser as\nan exponent of humanitarian principles, but they must\nperforce yield him and his co-rulers in Germany the\nadmiration due a brave soldier.\nWhen a state of war was declared, every man in the\nempire took leave of his daily duties, of his business and\nof his family to obey the call to arms.\nSo did the Kaiser. He transferred all his official busi-\nness to the different departments of his Government. He\ninvested trusted men with the executive powers exclusively\nreserved to him during times of peace. He freed himself\nfrom every obligation. Now he was the armed Kaiser of\na nation in arms. He went to the front—to the head-\nquarters of all his armies. The location of headquarters\nis kept secret for strategical reasons. But every German\nwarrior knows his Kaiser is near him, taking an im-\nportant part in the tactical dispositions that he has to\nfollow.\nThe German Crown Prince leads an army. He leads\nhis army on his horse's back, his sword in his hand, ex-\nposing himself to bullets as well as the common soldier in\nthe ranks. Three of his brothers are in the field. One\nlies wounded from a hostile bullet, eager to recover and\nparticipate anew in the fight for his country. The King\nof Saxony, the King of Wurtemburg, the Grand Duke\nof Baden, the royal princes of Bavaria, the Duke of\nson-in-law of the German Emperor, are ex-\nposing themselves daily to the privations of warfare and\nto the deadly bullets and weapons of the enemy.\nFourteen princes have been wounded since the war\nbegan, and several killed. Three members of the reigning\nhouse of Lippe fell in the course of one week, after de-\nciding the fortunes of their troops through their self-\nsacrificing bravery. The Prince Ernst Saxe-Meiningen\nlost his life on Belgian soil. Prince Otto Victor of\nSchoenburg-Waldenburg gave his life for his country.\nPrince Frederick Charles of Hesse, the brother-in-law ojf\nthe Kaiser, received severe wounds, and may die.\nEighteen sovereign federal princes and sixty-four princes\nof ruling houses and of royal blood are at present with\nthe German armies.\nNational calamities are the great equalizers of mankind.\nWhen the peaceful order of things ceases, a state of war\nis declared, all men gather around the banners, the palace\nof the nobleman as well as- the hut of the plain citizen\nis exposed to hostile invasion. High born and low born,\nas well as rich and poor, seem to submerge in two new\ndefinitions—strong and weak, courageous and cowardly.\nIn the time of war, the real meaning of the titles of\nthe nobility becomes apparent. The Emperor is the\n\"Imperator,\" the man who has the highest command over\nall the troops of his country. The duke—from the old\nLatin \"dux,\"—is a man who leads, literally the one who"}, {"page_pdf": 4, "page_imprimee": "856", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.4", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nis in the front of all, and so on; all the titles cease to be\ndead words, dead expressions of social distinction, and\nbefore our eyes the pictures of the ancestors of Europe's\nnoble families loom up—the rough, strong, powerful men\nwhose daring deeds distinguished them among their\ncomrades.\nGermany is proving in the present Eureopean war that\nits princes and its dukes are real men, real citizens of their\ncountry, who do not wear the glittering uniforms 'of their\nregiments as ornamental garb, but take their places among\nthe fighters exposed to the enemy's deadly weapons.\nEighteen German Federal princes and sixty-four princes,\nmembers of ruling and sovereign houses, are at present\nat the front. A few are in High commanding positions.\nThe others are doing duty as subaltern officers, side by\nside with their brother citizens.\nForgotten are palaces, the comfort of luxuriously fur-\nnished living rooms; forgotten is the daily routine of the\nwell-ordered household. The soldier-prince's knapsack,\ncontaining the bare necessities of one day's life, substitutes\nkitchens and storerooms of his palace. The man ac-\ncustomed to change his clothes three to five times a day,\nregards it as a luxury if circumstances permit him to take\noff his garments once in two or three days.\nThe military service does not know any other privileges\nthan those connected with the man's rank in the army.\nThe prince who is a lieutenant is no more than one of the\nmany thousand lieutenants doing active service.\nBullets do not ask questions. They strike the brave\nman's heart, no matter if he is of royal birth or comes\nfrom the peasantry. Several princes have already fallen\non the field of honor, and many are wounded, lying in\nfield hospitals, or are being transported back to their homes.\nWhen prince and day duke and commercial\nagent, fight side by side, experience the same fears, the\nsame hopes, endure the same hardships, follow the same\ncommand and cherish in their hearts the one desire, \"vic-\ntory or death,\" that must create a democratic spirit in\nthe army. They abolish all political and social differences\nto increase the efficiency of the war forces. They do not\nfeel any difference in rank out there around the campfire\nor in the skirmish line or during the battle. A touch of\nthis spirit is conveyed to the mothers, to the wives and to\nthe children in the letters sent home from the fighting line.\n\"Yes, I am wounded, dear,\" writes a young husband to\nhis wife, \"and I am afraid it won't heal very quick. They\nwill have to send me back to one of the field hospitals.\nDo not worry, and don't feel badly. Just thing of 'our'\nPrince Joachim, who was married shortly before he left\nfor the front, and wounded on the same day I was.\"\nThe proverbial mother, who has five grown-up sons in\nthe ranks, has found her companion in affliction in the\nGerman Empress herself, who is practically deserted by\nher family, most of whom are implicated directly or in-\ndirectly in the war. Even her daughter, Victoria Louisa,\nDuchess of Brunswick, cannot be at her side at the\npresent time, as her husband, the reigning Duke, made\nher, in departing to the front, his substitute, and she is\nlooking after the daily routine of ruling his country.\nAll barriers of everyday life seem broken. The Empress\nis a mother, like thousands of others, who might be in\nmourmng to-morrow. Every one of the grand duchesses\nand duchesses and princesses, whose husbands are doing\nactive duty, is a German \"frau\" that studies with fearful\nheart the lists of the fallen, published from day today,\nand that sends a silent prayer to heaven if the name of\nher dear one is not among those reported dead or wounded.\nNo matter what we might think about the cruelty of\nmilitarism in general, no matter what our private opinion\nmight be as to who is responsible for the outbreak of this\nman-murdering war in Europe, and even if our sympathies\nare strongly influenced against the part the Kaiser and his\narmy played in the present struggle, we are too human\nnot to feel that he, his family and every prince in Ger-\nmany pays his price, as well as the lowest man of his\ncountry whose duty it was to follow the call to arms.\nThe scions of noble families in Germany are trained\nfrom their earliest youth for military service. Their\nmilitary instructors do not attach too much importance\nto the theoretical side of military science. The soldier\nis here to fight, to use his arms, and to support the effi-\nciency of his arms with a healthy body that is capable\nof enduring hardships, and eventually privations. So\nthey spend their days not in walks around with their\ngovernesses in the gardens or parks, but in military\nexercises, on long marches in practice with gun and rifle,\nat the same time going through the regular course neces-\nsary to secure an average education.\nThe princes of the Hohenzollern family, particularly,\nhave a rather hard youth. According to their family\ntraditions, the male members receive from their seventh\nyear military instructions from an army sergeant, and at\nthe same time they are taught to be skilled artisans, such\nas carpenters, blacksmiths, brick-layers. They are more\nor less in active military service during their entire life-\ntime, receiving grants only according to their meritorious\nservices.\nEven the female members of the Hohenzollern family\nare army officers in the Royal Guards, and hold an hon-\norary command of certain regiments bearing their names.\nWhen peace reigns again and the historians and writers\nnow fighting in the lines of Germany's armies take off\ntheir soldier coats and exchange the rifle for the pen,\nthe true history of the present campaign will be written.\nSo far, we have only the bare facts given us by* wireless\ntelegraphy that does not permit the transmission of long\nstories and episodes.\nPrince Frederick von Hesse, related to the German\nEmperor, commander of a Uhlan regiment, fell near\nNamur. He was the first of his men to attack the forces\nof the enemy. A hesitation had been felt at the wing,\nwhose most important part the Princes regiment consti-\ntuted. He galloped up to the standard bearer, took the\nstandard out of his hand and rode bock to the front of\nhis regiment. He swung it high above his head. With\nthe sword ready to strike in the right hand, the standard\nin the left, exclaiming \"Follow me, boys—death or vic-\ntory!\" he started against the hostile forces. A bullet\nstruck his chest,\n\nGuido Bruno.\n\nThe title cover shows a few of the most usual types of our\nVillage natives."}, {"page_pdf": 5, "page_imprimee": "857", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.5", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nPeople Who Lived in Our Village\n\nRozel Oertle Butler\n-WHY the world does not know anything about my\npaintings—and about myself? You mean why\nnewspapers and magazines have not written about my work\nand why I have not exhibited?\" Mrs. Butler repeated my\nquestions after we had returned from the magnificent gal-\nlery back of her studio, and were seated comfortably near\nthe glowing grate in the spacious hall.\n\"You must know that out there in the \"Bad Lands,\" in\nthe deserts of New Mexico and Arizona, in the prairies\nof Nebraska, newspapers and art critics are rather scarce—\nespecially if one lives in a cart driven by an old horse,\ncamping here and there and always hundreds of miles from\nthe nearest cities and even ranches, or crossing on horse-\nback the arid stretches of Mexico, with canvas and easel\non one side of the saddle, grub, blanket, brushes and paints\non the other, bunking to-day on a high mountain, to-mor-\nrow deep down in the valley. Such was my life for years.\n\"I went through countries where a white woman had\nnever been before. The solitude of the desert has exer-\ncised over me a fascination since my earliest youth. Just\nthe land with its sun-dried vegetation and no other limita-\ntion to the horizon than the skies that seem to fade away\nfar on the outskirts of the prairie—but not so far that you\nthought you could not reach them if you had a good horse\nand kept on riding straight toward your goal.\nNo Chance to Exhibit\n\"Somehow, I never tried to do it. I stopped at this place\nor that, sketched and painted and tried to transfer on my\ncanvas the marvelous, ever-changing colors of sky and\nearth, of the mountains and the sea. After a canvas was\nfinished, I carried it with me and forwarded it, whenever\nI had a chance, to a storage house in some nearby city. So\nyou can easily see I could not have exhibited, eager though\nI was to let the American people see the beauties and won-\nders of those parts of their own country they call the \"Bad\nLands' and which seem to be neglected, not only by tour-\nists and travelers, but—what is more astonishing—by ar-\ntists and poets and musicians. Out there some day will be\nthe birthplace of an American music, of real American\npainting and of that kind of poetry that will not only be\nwritten in America, but will be really American.\n\"The revolutionary conditions of Mexico compelled me\nto come back to the States, and I decided to stay for awhile\nin New York. My canvases are already arriving from\nthe storage houses and soon I will be able to make a selec-\ntion and present to the public the deserts of America, In-\ndian life and the Mexican markets.\nThe knocker downstairs sounded. An insurance in-\nspector interrupted our conversation. I crossed over to\nthe studio to one of the enormous windows facing Wash-\nington Square. It was late in the afternoon and snow\ncrystals glittered in the air and struggled vainly with an\nunexpected current of warm wind and had to come to\nearth as raindrops.\nHave you ever been down to Greenwich Village, the\nold, aristocratic part of the city whose capital is Washing-\nton Square? Did you ever notice the row of brown and\ngray stone mansions on its south side? O. Henry called\nthem \"the quiet houses of mystery,\" and there is always a\nsurprise in store for you whenever you gain entrance to\none of them. ||hey were built half a century or more ago\nby well-to-do merchants, old New Yorkers, after whom\nour streets and places are called. Their children and\ngrandchildren moved to .upper Fifth Avenue or to River-\nside Drive and the enormous mansions are unoccupied or\nrented to people who make a business of renting rooms and\nstudios.\nUp Stairs and Down Stairs\nThe first and second floors of such houses are, perhaps,\nmagnificently furnished, occupied by writers or artists\nwhose names have won nation-wide reputation; while on\nthe upper floors and in the mansards live men and women\nwho are struggling hard \"to get there.\" That means to\npaint \"the painting\" or to write \"the book.\" Down stairs\nare Persian carpets on the floors, bedrooms fitted with fur-\nniture that had been built for a guest room in the royal\npalace at Fontainbleau, and upstairs in the mansards an\nold bed spring bought from the Salvation Army rests on\ntwo soap boxes, serving the man as bed whose book may\nbring you infinite pleasure to-morrow. A candle stuck in\nthe neck of a bottle is his illumination in the evening. The\nfloors are bare. But a magnificent carved marble mantel\nover the fireplace erases the suggestion of poverty, even if"}, {"page_pdf": 6, "page_imprimee": "858", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.6", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nthere is no wood or coal in the grate. And the windows\noverlook Washington Square! The game old trees and\nthe same sky, with the black city in the background can\nbe seen from here as from the windows downstairs hung\nwith silk curtains.\nIn the last one of this row of houses on the corner of\nSullivan street lives Mrs. Butler, the painter of deserts\nand Indian life.\nMrs. Butler paints Mexican market life as it never was\npainted before. The vivid colors, the sun at noontime, the\nsun in the afternoon, the first shadows of the evening—\nher pictures seem to live, seem to convey to us the beauty\nand the exoticism of that far-away country of picturesque\nrevolutions, of lazy-living city people and slow, tired-mov-\ning, hard-working farmers.\nHere in her studio the eye lights upon \"Flower Ven-\ndors of Mexico City\" in which is presented that corner\ndiagonally opposite the main post office, painted in the noon\nhour. The white sun shines on the canvas, protecting the\nmerchant from the hottest rays. The flowers in baskets\nturn their heads toward the sun and their red and white\nand Nile green and purple create in the picture, around\nthe picture and in us an atmosphere that makes us forget\nthe cold and colorless winter day in New York.\nAnd there is the \"Piazza del Signore.\" Under the old\nshady trees the bird seller has a stand. The birds whose\nwings and little bodies we admire on women's hats and in\ncages, one on top of the other, and the vender rests quiet,\nlazy and yet with a latent power.\nAnd then there are the paintings of the American desert\nstretches of prairie, no tree, no bush, only grass and skies.\nBut the colors seem to convey to us a strange message—\na message of life, of struggle, of conviction, of defeat and\n—of final peace.\nThere is such a sublime peace in every one of Mrs. But-\nler's paintings. It is the peace after a storm. It is the\npeace of old age after a long life of hard labor. It is the\npeace only a very few conceive and still fewer are chosen\nto convey to us in their works of art.\nWashington Square—in the middle of that boisterous\nItalian section—conveyed this peace. These large, spa-\ncious rooms in the old stone mansion conveyed such peace.\nI could understand why Mrs. Butler, who knew how to\npeople her deserts and \"bad lands\" and how to feel soli-\ntude amidst the noise and hustle-bustle of the Mexican\nmarkets, had chosen this old section and this old house in\nold Greenwich Village as her home in New York.\nMrs. Butler had re-entered the room.\n\"You, too, feel the message of those naked trees with\ntheir black branches, of this yellowish purple sky ? What\ndoes it matter that there are hordes of Italians and Hun-\ngarians and Polacks taking their children for a breath of\nair on a sunny day, or the buzzing 'buses filled with joy\nriders? Because I love the desert and lived in the desert\nthe greater partf of my life I chose New York and not a\nsmaller city in the West in which to settle down for a\nwhile. There is no vaster desert in all America than\nNew York, with all its millions of inhabitants.\n\"You want to know who I am? From where I come?\nSomething of my life? It isn't very interesting because\nthere isn't much of a magazine romance in it. Work—\n\nAfter a dance in Mazzini's"}, {"page_pdf": 7, "page_imprimee": "859", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.7", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nhard work—was my lot from the day I was able to walk\nuntil to-day, until this very hour. I was born on a ranch\nin Nebraska, and at the age of 8 I had to take care of my\nyounger sisters and brothers in the absence of my parents,\nand ia addition to that do all the work around the house.\nAnd that was not a small job. For seventeen years I\nworked on the ranch of my father. I did all the work\nthat a farmhand would do. I know how to raise potatoes,\nhow to dig the ground, how to cut down trees. I didn't\nknow that there was such an art as painting until my\ntwenty-second year. I visited Lincoln, Neb., and there I\nsaw a painting for the first time. I don't remember the\nname of the painting or who painted it, but it made a pro-\nfound impression upon me. I stood there for nearly two\nhours, and then I said to my father:\nThe Inspiration\n\" 'If I had the material, I could do as well.'\n\"But back I went to the farm and did my work as\nbefore.\n\"At the Omaha Exposition in 1889 I saw a fine collec-\ntion of paintings. Notwithstanding the fact that I had\nnever even tried to paint, I decided to become a painter.\nIn the fall of the same year I managed to get passage to\nAntwerp. There I lived for two years studying at the\nAcademy of Fine Arts and earning my living. Never mind\nhow, but I earned it, and I worked hard for every penny\nI got.\n\"I went to Paris. At first I was, as most of us, an ar-\ndent admirer of the geniality and the wonderful inspira-\ntions of the French artists and the French schools.\n\"But I wasn't esprit—it wasn't impressions I wanted. I\nhad worked the soil and I had studied the slow process of\ngrowth of nature, and that is what I wanted to paint. My\nteacher advised me to go to Brittany. I stayed there al-\nmost a year. The people there have to wrestle with the\nsoil; they work hard. I made some wonderful sketches\nthere. I was so poor that I could not afford to buy good\npaints. And so those canvases turned all black and I had\nto destroy them.\nStudying in Munich\n\"Then I went to Munich. I stayed there six years. No\n—I did not join any of the noted schools. The group of\nsecessionists wanted me to exhibit my work. But I de-\nclined. My teacher was Anton Atzbe, the favorite pupil\nof Lenbach, and I stayed with him six years. I was al-\nways alone. Society and the majority of artists never had\nattraction for me. But I met Nietzsche and we became\ngood friends. I was the only woman he ever called a\nfriend in his life. The hours I spent in his company are\nmy dearest memories.\n\"One day an unspeakable longing for my home, for the\nprairies in Nebraska, took possession of me. I crossed the\nocean again, and for more than fifteen years I have lived\nthe life of a nomad. I crossed the prairies and 'Bad\nLands' and deserts from east to west, and always alone. I\nlearned to love the Indians and their home life. I joined\na tribe of the Pueblo Indians and stayed with them in\nArizona and New Mexico. Later I crossed the border\nand painted Mexican market life. It is just in the market\nscenes that a Mexican of to-day can be understood. I\nstayed in the larger cities, mingled with the peasants that\ncome to the cities daily after their farms have been devas-\ntated by the revolutionary bands. I rode on horseback\nthrough the mountains, I camped on high hills and down\nnear the ocean.\n\"Didn't you feel the harmony between my Mexican\npictures and those of the deserts ? The revolution in Mex-\nico necessitated my homecoming. But next summer I\nshall be gone again. Igo to South America, to Peru, and\nI expect to be gone for several years.\"\n\nG.B.\n\nAdvice for Young Authors\nBy Charles Beaudelaire\nTranslated by Guido Bruno\nAbout Defaming\nC~)NE should defame only such people who are spreading\nerroneous ideas. To attack a man in a strong posi-\ntion, even if you feel yourself strong enough to do so,\nalways involves a weakening of yourself. But if you\nshow him only that you defer radically with him on\ncertain points, you might win him as a friend who is\ngoing to stick to you on certain occasions. There are\ntwo methods of knocking: the roundabout method and the\ndirect method. The latter always proves to be the shortest*\nFitting examples of the roundabout method can be found\nplentifully in the feuilletons of J. Janin. The round-\nabout way amuses the public at large but it is not an\neducated way.\nThe direct way is favored at present by a few English\njournalists. They seem to have abandoned it in Paris.\nEven Mr. Granier de Cassaganac seems to have forgotten\nall about it. This is how it is done: \"Mr. X. is a very\nindecent person, and more than that he is stupid, which\nI can easily prove. In order to prove it I will state first,\nsecond, third . . .\" and so on. This method I would\nlike to recommend to such who believe in reason and\nhave at their disposition a good fist.\nVery much to be pitied is the unfortunate one who\nwanted to knock and became the victim of his own knocks.\nHis own missile came back to him. It is the bullet that\nkills the one who fired it.\nAbout Creditors\n\\/ OU surely remember a comedy called \"Frivolity and\n* Genius.\" That frivolity often accompanies genius\nproves that genius was extraordinarily strong. But this\ntitle means for many young people unhappily not a mere\ncoincidence but a necessity.\nI doubt whether Goethe ever had creditors. Even\nHoffmann, the frivolous Hoffman, who was constantly\ntantalized by his troubles, longed continuously to get rid\nof them, and he died finally at the time when a comfortable\nlife would have permitted his genius glorious liberty.\nNever make debts! If you wish, to make others believe\nthat you are in debt, do so, but that's the limit I would\nadvise you to go.\n\nTom Sleeper.\nOriginal thoughts are as unusual as a satisfactory plumber."}, {"page_pdf": 8, "page_imprimee": "860", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.8", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nA Fable\nTHERE was once a poet, who did not win any laurels\nand who never was advertised in magazines and\nbook stores. At length he thought of committing suicide.\n\"Then,\" he said, \"I shall be famous forever.\" So he\narranged all his unsold manuscript in a neat pile and went\ninto a public park on the evening of a great national\nholiday. \"Now is the time and this is the place!\" he\ncried, and where the crowd was thickest he shot himself\nand died. But he had come so far away from his friends\nthat there was no one in all the vast multitude who knew\nhim. He was buried in Potter's Field, unidentified;\nand was soon quite forgotten, even by his creditors, but\nhis manuscripts were found by the well-known compiler\nof a literary review. He read them with great interest,\nadopted a few of them for his own works and published\nthe balance anonymously under the title \"Poems as found\nin a Furnished Room.\" Literary reviewers wondered who\nthe author of this novel and beautiful little volume might\nbe. In years to come the compiler of literature who had\nbeen unofficially identified as the author of the anonymous\nbook had himself forgotten whether he had really written\nthose poems or simply compiled them.\nAt the celebration of the twenty-fifth anniversary of the\nNew York Crimes Book Review he blushingly admitted\nhis authorship.\nThe dead poet is slumbering peacefully away with\nthousands of other unknown wayfarers on the road to\nFame and Success which they did not achieve in reaching.\n\nFragments\nI.\n0 OME dine with me\nOn a banquet\nOf slichi\nAnd kasha.\nAh!\n1 see you do not know\nMy beloved Russia.\n11.\nQ HE raved\nAll evening\nAbout Giotto.\nBut she\nHad never heard\nOf Gauguin.\n111.\nT ITTLE girl,—\n«■—'' You who were\nMy first love,—\nCould you see\nThe bitter-sweet joy\nOf these days\nYou would loathe me.\n\nA Famous Man\n\"HO you see that man?\" I said. \"He looks as though\nhe might have an interesting story.\"\n\"What!\" cried my friend. \"Don't you know who that\nman is?\"\n\"No; who is he?\" I replied.\n\"He is one of the greatest men of his class. To judge\nhim by his appearance would be to misjudge him most\ncruelly. He is a craftsman of the highest order. An\nartisan of considerable achievement. An artist, too, I\nhave heard from those who should know. Furthermore,\nhe is a philosopher and a revolutionist. He is a veteran\nof the revolt of '71. He knew Lamarck and Liebnecht.\"\n\"Indeed!\" I exclaimed. \"You must introduce me.\"\n\"Oh, you can introduce yourself. You can find him\nusually in his shop below the corner. He is Heinrich\nWagner, our cobbler.\"\n\nPoems and Other Things\nby James Waldo Fawcett\n\nBridge\nA BRIDGE to me is a spendid thing\nFor the soul to see the heart to sing.\nA palsing monument it stands,\nA symbol of clasped and toil-worn hands\nAnd a living tie that friendly binds\nFriendly cities and friendly minds.\n\nFable\nTHERE was once a man whom God \"caught\" in a lie.\nAnd God tried to think of a suitable punishment.\nFinally, he called the poor unfortunate before him and\nsaid, \"You will never tell the truth again.\"\nThe punishment was greater than the criminal could\nbear. Within a year he died, crying: \"Nobody believes\nme. I'm telling the truth!\"\n\nDrawing by Jack Flanagan"}, {"page_pdf": 9, "page_imprimee": "861", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.9", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nChicago Letter\nJohn Stapleton Cowley Brown\nKicked by a Mule\n\"John Jones, who was kicked by a mule, is dead from\nthe same.\" Thus reads a terse paragraph in an up-state\nMoulder of Public Opinion. Here in Porkopolis similar\naccidents occur daily. Only last week, one of my critical\nconfreres was kicked in a vital spot by a mule, and shuffled\noff this mortal soil in great agony. The \"mule\" that\nkicked him was\"The Hollow of Her Hand,\" the negli-\ngible novel in which George Barr McCutcheon breaks\nall records—his own—for sheer brain-annihilating, in-\nsomnia-curing drivel. My friend is dead— hence my\nanger—but the mule still is at large. So cave canem,\nbeware the McCutcheon mule.\nThe House of Harper\nThe ancient and honorable house of Harper Brothers\nare publishing more \"plugs\" than any other publishing\nhouse in America—our own McClurg Mausoleum not ex-\ncepted. Yet book-buyers who have been \"stuck\" in the last\nanalysis have only themselves to blame. To buy books\nbecause they bear the imprint of an old-established firm\nis much as if a man should buy clothes that did not fit\nhim, giving as reason for the purchase that they were\nmade by a long-established tailor.\nFour Kinds of Readers Defined\n\"There are four kinds of readers. The first is like the\nhour-glass; and their reading being as the sand, it runs\nin and runs out, and leaves not a vestige behind. A second\nis like the sponge, which imbibes everything and returns it\nin nearly the same state, only a little dirtier. A third is\nlike a jelly-bag, allowing all that is pure to pass away,\nand retaining only the refuse and the dregs. And the\nfourth is like the slaves in the diamond mines of Gol-\nconda, who, casting aside all that is worthless, retain only\npure \"gems.\" Coleridge, who wrote this golden defini-\ntion, was a member of the fourth class of readers. If he\nwere alive, of all the books thus far published in 1913\nhe would retain only Bowman Peck's volume of \"Poems\"\n(London; Elkin Matthews) as chryselephantine poetry\nas has even been written by an American since Poe laid\ndown his wand forever.\nThe Difference Between Emerson Hough and Henry Fuller\nQuery: What is the difference between Emerson Hough\nand Henry Fuller, charter members of Cook County's\nConcatenated literati? Answer: Hough is unreadable,\nand Fuller is not read.\nLice On a Lion's Mane\nThe crapulous crew of cretinous critics, who, to gain\na little advertising of their precious selves, are gushing\n(at space rates) over the Browning Centennial, remind\nme of nothing so much as of lice on a lion's mane. The\nmost Shakespearian creature since Shakespeare needs no\nsuch weak support. His \"Complete Poetical Works,\"\na monument more during than brass, is too little read\nand too much dwelled over in print by windy criticasters,\nmostly long-haired men and short-haired women.\nNow Barabbas Was a Publisher\nI have been reading Sloan's \"Life of Napoleon.\" Na-\npoleon's sons (which were many) surely have been for-\ngiven him by the King of kings and Lord of lords. \"Nap\"\nonce shot a publisher.\nHoni Soit Qui Mal Y Pense\nAlso, I have been making the re-acquaintance of that\nfascinating classic, Southey's \"Life of Nelson.\" From this\nlatter, I learn that after the death of Nelson, English\nladies were fond of wearing the Trafalgar garter, on which\nwas inscribed the memorable signal, \"England expects\nevery man will do his duty.\"\n\nIn the Landes\nHubert Crackanthorpe\nCINCE sunrise I had been traveling—along the straight-\nstretching roads, white with summer sand, intermin-\nably striped by the shadows of the poplars, across the\ngreat, parched plain, where, all the day's length, the heat\ndances over the waste land, and the cattle bells float their\nfar-away tinkling; through the desolate villages, empty\nbut for the beldames, hunched in the doorways, pulling\nthe flax with horny, tremulous fingers; and on towards\nthe desolate silence of the flowerless pine-forests.\nAnd there the night fell. The sun went down uijseen;\na dim flickering ruddled the host of tree-trunks, and the\ndarkness started to drift through the forest. The road\ngrew narrow as a foot-path, and the mare, slackening her\npace, uneasily strained her white neck ahead . . .\nOut of the darkness a figure sprang beside me. A shout\nrang out—words of an uncouth patois that I did not\nunderstand. And the mare terrified, galloped forward,\nsnorting and swerving, from side to side . .\nAnd a strange superstitious fear crept upon me—a\ndreamy dread of the future; a helpless presentiment of\nevil days to come; a sense, too, of the ruthless nullity\nof life, of the futile deception of effort, of bitter revolt\nagainst the extinction of death; a yearning after faith\nin some vague survival beyond . . .\nAnd the words of the old proverb returned to me\nmockingly, \"The eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor is\nthe ear with hearing.\"\n\nD'Annunzio Beaten to it\nMaxim Gorky was so shocked receiving the news of the\ndeath of Tolstoy that he fainted, and after he had come\nto again, he refused to eat and to drink for several days.\nThis story was related to the great Gabriel D'Annunzio.\nHe exclaimed: \"What a great co-incidence?—lt is just\nwhat I had intended to do, to pay to the deceased Master\nproper homage.\"\n\nMichael Monahan.\nWhat is in human nature that makes\nmen love to grovel before fetiches of flesh\nor stone? Nothing is more certain than\nthat millions prefer such prostration to the\nnoblest dignity and freedom. To kowtow\nto any fool drest in a little brief authority,\n—this is one of the strongest and most deep-\nly rooted of human instincts; it is also the\nchief obstacle to human progress. No doubt\nit harks back to those early ages of the\nworld, and some not so remote, when Fear\nand Superstition were the supreme govern-\ning forces. And tho the substance of these\nbe long since gone, the shadow still affrights\nus."}, {"page_pdf": 10, "page_imprimee": "862", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.10", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nT.W. Paige\n\nHarriette White Paige\n\nJ.F. MacCarthy: Engraver,\n\nIWJacCARTHY was an engraver with the soul of an\nartist and the likely inherited inclination to collect\nbeautiful things. Had he been a millionaire he would 1\nhave been renowned all over the world as a collector of\nart objects. But the man who is engraving plates usually\ndoes not acquire the fortunes that await a steel manu-\nfacturer or an oil dealer. He was contented with his life,\nBut he felt really happy after he had succeeded in com-\nbining his passion for paintings and beautiful old china\nwith his daily task of earning a livelihood for himself and\nhis family. Little by little he drifted into selling the\nthings which he had originally bought following that\nmysterious desire of the born collector to possess, if some-\nhow possible, whatever struck his fancy. Soon he picked\nup things with the purpose of showing them to fellow\ncollectors interested in this particular kind of objects.'\nAnd to-day he has one of the most interesting antiquarian\ncabinets in the city. You wouldn't call his place a shop.\nIt is an old fashioned mansion, No. 30 West 46th Street,\nwhere he occupies the ground floor.\nOld fashioned paintings are on its walls right next\nto the modern work of contemporary artists. Curious\nthings on shelves and in cases, old bronzes, porcelains, 4\nbooks here and there, but of the utmost interest in the\nshop, is he himself, MacCarthy. He is the impersonation\nof kindliness. Foreign to him is that characteristic of\nour average art dealer to get everything at the cheapest\npossible prices; to exploit the ignorance of people who\nsell, as well as of those who purchase. He is kind to\nthe artist who wishes to dispose of his work. He is in-\ndulgent to the old lady who decided after a long fight with\nherself, with her pride and with her creditors to part"}, {"page_pdf": 11, "page_imprimee": "863", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.11", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nJames William Paige\n\nHarriette Story Paige\n\nConnoiseur and Antiquarian\n\nwith some of her family nelics. The old silhouettes,\nj family portraits, snuff boxes, and hundreds of other things\nl|ie acquires are to him not only wares which he expects\njto sell with profit, but they are also objects of his collection\nwith which he parts very often reluctantly whenever the\nI occasion presents itself.\nAnd what curious things he finds. There is, for\ninstance, an excellent portrait of Nathan Hale's father,\nthe only likeness as far as known at present, in existence.\nThe silhouettes we are reproducing on this page is a\ngroup of an old Boston family. They are made by August\n*Amanat Constance Fidele Edouart, one of the famous\nsilhouette artists of the eighteenth century. Born in\njjPunkirk in 1788, he went to London in 1815. He was\nsilhouettist to the Royal family. He made a trip\nMo the United States in 1839. The great eclat with\nI which he was received in all the important cities which he\n| visited induced him to remain on American soil for ten\n{years. He silhouetted everyone here of any prominence\nif from the President down. His work is represented in\n■ almost all of the European silhouette collections in mu-\njpeums and galleries.\n1 There is a row of Pennell; his beautiful pen and ink\ndrawings are on one of his walls. We are reproducing\ntwo most characteristic of the artists workmanship. Dur-\ning the recent bazaar for the Allies, MacCarthy bought\nmany things by contemporary artists. This sketch of the\nman who made Buster Brown famous in all the nurseries\nof the United States is too good to be given over to the\nsole enjoyment of the lucky one who will eventually\n[purchase it."}, {"page_pdf": 12, "page_imprimee": "864", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.12", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nINCLINATION to art and artistic occupations are\nvery common characteristics of insane people.\nDespite the fact that the strong desire to express con-\ncretely thoughts and delusions is the constantly noted\nsymptoms of certain mental diseases, mental specialists\nhave paid little attention in recent years to this important\nphase in their patients' condition.\nThe most complete collection of works of insane artists\nwas assembled in 1880 by Maxim Ducamp and C. Lom-\nbroso, the eminent psychologists, in the University Insane\nAsylum of Turin, Italy. One hundred and seven insane\nartists were represented in this unique collection. Of\nthese, 46 were painters, 10 were sculptors, 11 were en-\ngravers, 13 were architects and 27 were designers, en-\ngaged in allegorical works.\nFrom the psychopathic standpoint, of these 107 insane\nartists, 25 suffered from meglomania, 21 from alcoholic\ndelirium, 24 from melancholia in all stages, 22 from tem-\nporary insanity, 5 from moral insanity, and 2 were epilep-\ntics. Most of the painters, previously to their illness, had\nbeen engaged in art studies. It may be easily understood\nthat these men, who had been engaged in work which\nfascinated them, developed a high degree of sensitiveness\nfor the special branch of art in which they had been in-\nterested. The others of the 107 had been students, offi-\ncers, Catholic priests and mechanics, occupations which\nbrought them to a greater or less extent in contact with\nworks of art.\nC. Lombroso, in the Archivio di Psichiatria Scienze\nLegali, has on record the results of his studies of the\nart of the insane and illustrates his lectures with pictures\nof his exhibition. These comprise masterpieces of insane\nartists collected from all insane asylums of Europe.\nIn the insane asylum of Perugia, Italy, there was a\npainter inmate who suffered from alcoholism. Before he\nwas committed to the institution he had been a well\nknown portrait artist. His peculiarity was the odd use\nof red color in all of his portraits. He painted always in\nprofile, characterising nose, mouth and forehead in sharply\ncurved lines, and applying his color combination very\nheavily to produce a novel effect upon the student of his\nworks. All of his portraits appeared degenerated, as\nthough they were likenesses of habitual drunkards. This\nwas a very singular case, since most insane portrait paint-\ners employ yellow as their favorite color.\nAt the insane asylum of Siena, Italy, the architect \"L,\"\nvery well known in his time, spent the latter part of his\nlife. He lost entirely the sense for proportions in his\nwork and reproduced drafts of subjects without shape\nand without form.\nThe same disease, however, which suppresses in the\nunfortunate man or woman victim certain very important\ncharacteristics for art, creates new powers in the insane\nand endows them with peculiar abilities.\nThere was a patient in the insane asylum of Toulon,\nFrance, an alcoholic of the worst kind. He was an artist\nwho had lost his sense of color distinction during the\ncourse of his disease. He had a desire to paint and was\nconscious of his inability to differentiate colors and, hence,\npainted entirely in white. During the last year of his\nlife, being drunk day and night, he produced some of the\nmost famous snow scenes ever executed in France. Three\nof his pictures, found among his belongings after he had\ndied in the asylum and unsigned, are hung in the Louvre\nin Paris. They are famous the world over as snow\nscenes, and students come from far and near to copy the\nmasterpieces.\nStraight line objects, uniformly and cylindrically shaped,\nlike childrens' toy building blocks possess an unusual fas-\ncination for insane artists. In Macerata, Italy, there was\nonce an insane artist, suffering from megalomania, who\nhad collected in the course of years thousands of pencils,\nsticks of wood and little building blocks. His mania was\nto arrange his toys in very irregular and formless fashions.\nThen, with the accuracy of an expert copyist he drafted\nhis creations on paper with charcoal and labeled them\nwith the most weird and fascinating names. One of\nthese characteristic drawings is preserved in Turin. It is\ncalled \"The Ascension to Heaven\"; the portrayal of a\njumbled heap of pencils roughly piled upon a stairway\nwhich hangs in mid-air.\nThe originality, says Lombroso in one of his disserta-\ntions, of all these works of art is absolutely striking. It is\nastonishing, like the drawing of a four-year-old child who\ntries to draw a cow after its first trip to the country. The\noutline of the child's picture can be understood only by\nthose who take an interest in the child and who study its\nways of expressing thought—who know what it means\nwhen it utters the funny conglomeration of vocals and\nconsonants, naming things in its own symbolical way.\nFew besides the mother of the child will recognize in the\nshapeless lines drawn by her darling the cow pointed out\na few days previously.\nThe physician should make not merely a diagnosis after\nstudying the patient's symptoms, but also study and ana-\nlyze the logic in thinking caused by the disease. He then\ndoes not find it difficult to be the Cicerone in the art gal-\nlery containing the insane artists' paintings.\nPatients suffering from megalomania or melancholia\nfrequently have delusions which make them sad, suspicious\nand distrustful. They feel the desire to communicate their\nfeelings to others, but often do not dare to do so. The\ninsane artist who labors under such delusions is inclined to\nexecute modeling work and it is in these moods that most\nof the masterpieces of insane artists are created.\nUnder no circumstances will the insane artist explain\nhis picture when asked its meaning. He will listen to no\ncritic and declines positively to enter into any argument\nor discussion of his paintings. He declares emphatically\nthat this or that work of art represents an expression of\nhis feelings—is a true picture of some object existing or to\nbe created in the near future.\nIn cases where the painting was a copy of something\nreally existing and the artist is confronted with the orig-\ninal and asked whether he does not see the difference be-\ntween the original and the copy, he will simply state that\nhis picture is his way of looking at the object. \"What\nyou see now will appear to you some time as my picture\n\nIn Our Village\nGenius and Insanity\nThe Greatest Collection of Insane Artists' Works\nA word to our own followers of all sorts of \"Isms\""}, {"page_pdf": 13, "page_imprimee": "865", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.13", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nnow appears,\" he will say. \"My picture is simply a\n'future' picture of the subject.\"\nThe name \"futurists\" has its origin in the reports of the\nsuperintendent of the insane asylum at Pavia, Italy. The\nreport was published November, 1866, for the current\nyear.\nAnd so it is: A voice predicting the future, speaking\nto us when we study the paintings of children and of in-\nsane artists.\nThe child has his life before it.\nThe voice of the future is nature's prediction of genius.\nThe insane artist has his life behind him.\nHe has returned to his childhood.\nHe has adopted childish ways of receiving impressions\nand giving them to others.\nIf his life would be long enough to permit him to go\nthrough the entire process of evolution, as the child will\npass through, there might not only be the chance but the\nwell-grounded hope of some great future work to come.\nBut, as it is, the mental capacity is reduced to the orig-\ninal state of the first years of his life.\nThe childish condition retrogrades in a similar way.\nSoon even the childlike, correct and logical but untrained\nmethod of thinking will be lost in the dark night of in-\nsanity.\nThe insane futurist will die in the progress of his dis-\nease and leave only his work, valuable in its significance\nas the product of an insane artist.\nIN that picturesque part of New York made immortal\nby O. Henry, the great romancier and short-story teller\nof \"The Bagdad on the Subway\" Miss Margaret Porter,\nhis daughter, married last week. Cesare, best cartoonist\nwe have in New York at present, the blonde Viking with\na ruddy pink complexion, was the chosen one. Miss\nPorter, several weeks ago, made her bow to story readers\nas Miss O. Henry, and Cesare left The Sun almost\nimmediately after Mr. Munsey got his clutches upon this\nold metropolitan newspaper, which he combined with\nhis New York Press. He joined the staff of the New\nYork Evening Post.\nCharles Peters returned recently from Servia with many\nhundreds of drawings done on the battlefields of the\nBalkans and in France. Two missions had led him to\nthe seat of war. He rendered his services to the American-\nServian Auxiliary Committee whose chief purpose had\nbeen to supply the Servian field hospitals with Rontgen\nmachines. Of course he did not leave behind his sketch\nbooks. He contemplates an exhibition of his work in the\nnear future.\nJack Flanagan's exhibition will be tacked to the walls\nof Bruno s Garret until July 30th. Every afternoon,\nfrom one till four, this exhibition is open to the public.\nLouise Allison is the self appointed patroness of Sheri-\ndan Square. Ably assisted by Jack MacGrath she will\ntry to reguild the time-worn splendor of this once aristo-\ncratic Square. She isn't quite prepared to disclose her\nfuture activities but there will be cabaret, a tea house\nand a quaint dancing place.\nEdith Unger has a charming \"drop-in-after-dinner-\nplace.\" The color scheme of that little basement of hers\nis fascinating.\n\nGuido Bruno"}, {"page_pdf": 14, "page_imprimee": "866", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.14", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nAlfred Ernest Keet is again among us. After eight\nyears of varied activity in the West, he settled in New\nYork in 1893, joining the Editorial Staff of \"The Forum\"\nin succession to Ernest Lambert, formerly Secretary to\nthe late Hon. Whitelaw Reid. He became a shareholder\nand secretary to the Board of Directors, and was appointed\nthe editor of the review in 1895. In September, 1897,\nhe joined the editorial staff of the \"Atlantic Monthly,\"\nbecoming also one of Houghton Mifflin and Co.'s\nliterary advisers. In November, Mr. Astor appointed\nhim the American publisher, manager and consulting edi-\ntor of his various English publications. Several years\nlater- a sudden and very severe nervous breakdown necessi-\ntated a rest. For two years he travelled widely, visiting\nth Far East, attending the Tycho Brahe celebration on\nthe Island of Hven, etc.\n\nBooks and Magazines of the Week\n\nOscar Wilde's \"Reading Gaol\"\nOscar Wilde\nFrank Harris, through his remarkable \"Life of Oscar\nWilde and His Confessions\" revived the interest in Oscar\nWilde and his writings all over the country. Wilde's best\nknown work undoubtedly is his \"Ballad of Reading\nGaol.\" Mr. P. F. Madigan, the well-known collector\nof autographs, permitted me the reprinting of the follow-\ning letter of Oscar Wilde, relating to his first English\nand American edition of this greatest of all the epics in\nthe English language:\nTo Leonard Smithers, Esq.\n51 Santa Lucia,\nJan. 9th, '98.\nMy Dear Smithers:\nThe revise has never arrived and I have waited from\nday today for it. To wait longer would be foolish. I\nam sure it is all right, as regards your suggestion, or\nrequest that I should revert to in God's sweet world\nagain instead of for weal or woe again—(Canto II some-\nwhere). Certainly, Pray make the correction yourself.\nSecond thoughts in art are always, or often worst. The\nC. 3. 3. I enclose seems excellent. The C. T. W. of\nIn Memoriam page was better larger, as before, \"trooper\"\n(same page) should have a capital T.\nI think that \"in the Royal Horse Guards\" should be\nuof the Royal Horse Guards. I don't know, however,\nyou might ask. \"Of\" seems nicer.\nThe Cover, etc., I leave to you. The post here is\nimpossible, so pray, bring it all out as soon as possible,\nwithout further consultation. I, as all poets, am safe\nin your hands. As regards America, I think it would\nbe better now to publish there without my name. I see\nit is my name that terrifies. I hope an edition of some\nkind will appear. I cannot advise about what should be\ndone, but it seems to me that the withdrawal of my name\nis essential in America, as elsewhere, and the public like\nan open secret. Half of the success of Maria Corelli is\ndue to the, no doubt, unfounded rumour that she is a\nwoman. In other respects pray do as you like about Amer-\nica, but do see that there is some edition. I have had\nmany misfortunes since I wrote to you, Influenza, the\nrobbery during my absence in Sicily, of all my clothes, etc.,\nby a servant whom I left at the Villa, ill-health, loneliness,\nand general ennuij with a tragi-comedy of an existence—\nbut I want to see my poem out before I take steps,\nSincerely yours,\n\nErnest Dowson\nPOOR Ernest Dowson through his sufferings is be-\ncoming almost as famous as that earlier unhappy poet\nwho by self-destruction set apart his life in the sorrowful\nannals of literature. There were perhaps two Chatter-\ntons—who, at this long distance of time, can tell ? There\nwere certainly two Dowsons—one the vexed and torn\nspirit of the biographers, of Mr. Sherard and Mr. Arthur\nSymons, the other a Dowson \"intime,\" known, I venture\nto think, to very few, but by those few, greatly loved.\nThis intimate and perhaps essential Dowson appears,\nI am convinced, in these thirty or so letters, now for the\nfirst time published in full or in part. In them no ugly\nslur of passion, no ill savours, are to be found. Instead\nwe are refreshed by fragrance—transient and slight, per-\nhaps, yet evident—by fragrance, be it said again, and by\nan unfailing touch of good breeding, a gracious and in-\nsistent air of modesty—by something different, boyishly\nsly, often beautiful and noble.\nTo me the re-reading of these letters of his brings back\nmy friend as I knew him and love to remember him—\nthe gentleman, the kindly, charming, boyish friend, the\nscholar, the exquisite poet. I read and re-read through\ntears, and lay them down when I can see no more.\nFrater, ave atque vale!\nPreface to Ernest Dowson, 1883 to 1897, Reminiscences\nand unpublished letters and Marginalia by Victor Plarr,\nwith a bibliography compiled by H. Guy Harrison.\nLaurence J. Gomme, Publisher, New York, one dollar.\n\nBookplate Book\nThe American Bookplate Society announces the publi-\ncation of a volume dealing with the bookplates by the\nlate George W. Eve, written and compiled by Mr. George\nHeath Viner.\nThe artist's work will require no introduction, especially\nto bookplate connoisseurs by whom his work has long\nbeen highly prized and appreciated. To those unacquaint-\ned with it, the information may be of interest that the artist\nwas a Fellow of the Royal Society of Painters-Etchers;\nthe author of two books, Decorative Heraldry and Her-\naldry as. Art; that he frequently lectured on art and that\nhe executed, among other famous works, bookplates for\nQueen Victoria, King Edward, and King George, as well\nas work for the Welsh Investiture and many important\ngovernment and private commissions."}, {"page_pdf": 15, "page_imprimee": "867", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.15", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nThe Lion's Mouth\n\nJack Carney\nIVe thank you for the compliment and njue only wish it were\ntrue, especially that private car of ours.\nJuly 11th, 1916.\nWashington Square Benches\nBetween 12 p. m.and 6 a. m.\n| My Dear Bruno:\nWhy I should be so familiar, heaven only knows,\nYou suggest a novel solution to the Busmen's strike, and I\nhave no doubt your supercillious following, will applaud this\nyour latest stunt. The world to-day is in a deplorable state,\n* artist and Bohemian friends of mine stand facing each other\nwith rifle and bayonet as foes. Over 100,000 girls in England,\nwill give birth to children. Their \"fathers\" have left their\nmothers in the lurch. Hundreds of young men have been\n| rendered physically unfit for life. In New York your school\n1 children are going to be taught to kill. I have visited Scotland,\nEngland, Wales, Ireland, Canada, France and America; still\nthe passions of war are uppermost in the people's minds, after\ntwenty months of the bloody contest between the Allies and\nGermany.\nYou, Bruno, object to the Buses running through Washington\nSquare, in the usual selfish nature of our \"intellectual\" freaks.\nIt is because men like yourself, possessed with a mightier power\nthan the sword, the power of the pen, have prostituted your-\nselves. You ride about in a motor-car. The poor devils that\ncome nightly to Washington Square, cannot afford a motor-car,\nso they pay ten cents and enjoy a ride on a bus, in the same\nway that you enjoy a ride in a motor-car. These poor devils\nhave committed a terrible crime, they have allowed themselves\nto be born from a poor family.\nBruno, just begin to be an artist and a real writer. Tell the\npeople to get out of the slums, just show them the way out, but\nfor heaven's sake do not tell them to go back to them. The\nreal artist, like William Morris, wants a beautiful world for\nall, but they know that while one part is hideous the effect of\nthe beautiful part is hidden. Bring Frank Harris into your\nconfidence and let Frank give us something more like he used to\ndo. London is lost without Frank. Fleet St. feels his loss, I\nmean the real Fleet St. Bohemian, not the prostitutes of Car-\nmelite House.\nBruno, perhaps I might do better with your paper. Let me\npublish it for one week.\nYours for a free life,\n\nMarjorie Lucile Clark, of Yonkers, Admires Us\nr\\ H, Guido Bruno, thy Weekly Book\nDoth feed the minds of men.\nDoth make them think,\nDoth bring the tear,\nTo some, give cheer.\nBut, oh; to those who sorrowing\nScan eagerly your pages\nFor some balm of healing—\nAh, Guido Bruno, knowest thou not pure joy?\n\nAn Ardent Admirer of Poet Tarleton Winchester\nSomewhere in New York, July 13th, 1916.\nDear Guido Bruno:\nCongratulations!!! Rarely does it fall to the lot of an Editor\nto be the discoverer of a real poet. What pride, what joy,\nmust be yours I\n\nDrawing by Clara Tice That Inspired Colonel Bill\n\nPillars of a Temple Beautiful,\nHid in the dusk of darkness,\nBut crowned with a light never-failing!\nPillars supporting the mystery\nVeiled in the shadow!\nPillars which reel\nIn the joy of their upholdings!\nAnd, Heavens to Betsy,\nThey've got on bloomers!!\n\nW.J. Lampton\n\nBruno:— Poets are not polite propositions, are they?\nOtherwise I, a practical poet, would not have written\nwhat is herewith enclosed. You being an editor will not\ndare print them, so only you and I of all the world of\n\nP.C.C.\nI have known him for more than a year; and because I like\nhim more than well I have studied him closely; yet never have\nI even suspected that the object of my admiration and affection\nis in truth a genius—born of Heaven—a veritable Prometheus\nsnatching a bit of the Divine fire and bringing it to earth for\nthe betterment of mankind.\nJudge, then, my amazement when I read last night, in Vol.\n111., No. 4, those exquisite lines: \"To Fourteenth Street.\" What\ndepth of feeling: what delicacy of expression: what beauty of\nthought: what melody of rhythm are in those five lines!! I\nknow now how Adam felt when he woke to find Eve beside\nhim. I can imagine him saying to himself: \"What! That\nglorious creature MY RIB? Just to think: I've been lugging\nthat around all my life and never even knew it!\" And so did\nI say to myself: \"What! That chap a POET? Just to thinkr\nI've known him a year and never suspected it.\"\nThere is but one regret. When so much can be given to the\nworld in five lines, it's a pity he did not write ten.\nAgain I congratulate you—and ask that you convey my con-\ngratulations to him. I'd do it myself, but never more shall\nI approach him other than in a spirit of humility too deep to\npermit me to offer praise.\nSincerely,\np, s.—What in God's name does the poem mean?"}, {"page_pdf": 16, "page_imprimee": "868", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.16", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nimagery and imagisery will know of them. If Clara ever\nsees them, both of us are done for—l for having written\nthem, and you for having shown them to her. There is\na sacred bond betwixt us. Cave canem!!! Look out for\nVarna!!\nYours,\n\nLampton\n\nLet This Cup Pass Too, Oh Lord!\nRichard le Galienne\nRichard le Galienne celebrated his fiftieth birthday and\nhere is the letter in which he declined to give me an inter-\nview for this occasion:\nRowayton, Conn.\nSaturday.\nDear Mr. Bruno:—lt is bad enough to have attained\nthe bad eminence of \"fifty,\" without under-going any\npublic celebration of the fact; though I am sure you would\nplace the laurel on my grizzling hair with a distinguished\ngesture. So please excuse my declining the honor, much\nas I appreciate your kindness in tendering it to me.\nWait till I'm sixty! Between now and then, too, I hope\nto have done something better worth writing about.\n*'Even in our ashes . . \" you know.\nYours sincerely,\n\nJean\nBy Orrick Johns\n\nVER in Still Creek Valley, the trains rumbled all\nday long, going in and out of the city. On one\nof the dirt streets running north from this smoking thor-\noughfare lived Martin Hupp and his mother. They lived\non the ground floor of a little two-storied house of red\nbrick, which had been painted over and over again. On\nthe inside it looked like it had been half-scrubbed away.\nThere were depressions in the floors where bristles and\nsoap had left their mark. Even the furniture looked\ncolorless and grooved from too diligent cleaning. But of\nlate the dust had begun to settle, and the smoke from the\ntrains was awful, since there was no one to keep it down\nlike the old woman used to.\nThe old woman was going off her head, and getting\nweaker and nobody seemed to know what was the matter\nwith her at all. But Martin thought it was just old age,\nbecause she had always been like that, only now she was\nworse. He had to begin doing the work and cooking\nsupper after he got home. She sat in her old chair and\ngrumbled at him. She said he was as worthless as his\nfather had been before he died. \"You couldn't use your\nhands—none of you—and surely it wasn't from me you\ngot shiftless ways.\" Martin paid no attention to what\nshe said, except sometimes to tell her to shut up; he was\nkeeping her and maybe they would do better by her at the\nhome for old folks. She said, \"Mighty poor keeping.\"\nWhen his father was living he always saw him make\nher stop nagging by slapping her. One time when his\nfather was in a towering rage, he gave her a sound kiss,\nwhich was ridiculous to Martin, because they were both\nso old. But she did not seem to like it, because she held\nher tongue for two days. He guessed she had always\nbeen bitter and wrinkled. He would have had to laugh\nright out if anybody said she ever was pretty, or looked\nlike girls looked. Because, when he first knew them, both\nhis father and mother were old. He learned by their\ntalk that he had a brother and a sister. They went away\nsome time when he was little and the old people never\nanswered whether it was for good or bad. They argued\nabout them a lot, but they never seemed to have a good\nword for them. When Martin did anything the old\nwoman did not like, her tongue was a whip. \"Your pa\nwas just like you. His friends all got up in the world,\nbut he sat still and dirtied the floor with his pipe. He\nburnt a hole in my wedding dress. Don't you ever let me\nsee you bein' proud of yourself, Martin Hupp.\" Mr.\nHupp once wrote a poem called \"Billy McCann.\"\nOn the day of Mr. Hupp's funeral she took Martin\nhome and told him all his father's faults. He thought\nit sounded like she was reading from the Scriptures. It\nwas a joke, too, because—what good did it do? At the\nend she told him he inherited them all, and what's more,\nthey would never leave him. She said: \"You'd just as\nwell kill yourself as even look at a whiskey bottle.\" She\nsaid not one of her children had red hair, as she had,\nwhich was proof enough for her. It had always been a\nsign in her family that only the red-heads turned out\nright. Martin was satisfied God meant people to be\nbitter like his mother and not to like anything. Even\nwhen people worked hard she grumbled, too. He told\nher, what if he did work, she jumped him anyhow—and\nhis hands scarred from the cutting when he came home\nlate every night to do housework.\nShe said Johnny Mcßride was making more money than\nhe—the Bentz woman told her. \"The Bentz woman\nis a liar, because I caught her in more than one,\" he\nanswered. He thought he had reason for hating Johnnj-\nMcßride, as he always did. He knew if he stayed there\ntalking to her like that any longer he would be sorry he\nhad not left her sooner, so he went to bed. He wanted\nto slam the door as 'he went out, but his hand brought it\nto silently. He held his feet in both hands in bed and\nwondered where to get the money for her funeral.\nIn his work he had all day to run a knife on leather\nsheets, cutting out parts that, later, were sewed into the\nbody of the shoe. The knife was sharp and it was tempta-\ntion to work fast. He could hardly remember a day he\ndid not get a fresh mark on his hand where the knife went\nwrong. Martin was the clumsiest cutter in the factor}*\nHe knew, because everybody seemed to try to keep from\ntalking to him about it. His mother said it was too skill-\nful a kind of work for a Hupp. He sometimes stopped his\nears so as not to hear what she said, but when he heard\nher he always had to believe her. After she scolded him\nhe always worked harder. The company said they would\ngive a prize to whoever did the best work for some special\nshoes. Everybody did their best and held their breath\nuntil they found out who won. One day a man came\nin and said Martin won. They were all so surprised they\ndid not even ask to look what he got. He put it in his\npocket right away. It was a red-colored medal with a\nshoe on one side. He was afraid to show it to his mother.\nBut at last he threw it on the table as though he did not\ncare about it and told her how he got it. She only\nlaughed at it. \"Now, you'll be getting the big head and\ndoing things worse and worse. It's better to be makin'\nthings like that. Nobody was ever any good that ever"}, {"page_pdf": 17, "page_imprimee": "869", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.17", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n{To be Concluded)\n\nwon anything.'*\nIn March, one night, when it was still cold, Martin\nwas setting the table. Everything was clean and tied up\nall over the house. He asked his mother if she had been\nmoving around some,\n\"I ain't been out of this chair, and you didn't even\nbring me a newspaper, though Lord knows there's nuthin'\nin 'em,\" she said. \"You're thinkin' about the house-\ncleanin'; if you wouldn't be hidin' your thoughts and\nwould ever tell the truth. You're a suspicious one. Well,\nit wasn't me that done it, as you might see if you looked\nat that pile of dust over there, which I've been seein'\nright under my nose all day long, and at the bed pulled\nout that ain't been half pushed back. You're a smart\none puttin' that skinny Mcßride girl up to comin' in her\nand doin' my work.\"\nMartin did not say anything then. The Mcßride\ngirl spoke to him so sharply, he wondered why she hated\nhim. But he felt like going right out of the house to find\nher. He told his mother, after he thought, that he was\nglad the Mcßride girl knew something. She said: \"You\nneedn't go on about it, boy. If any more strangers come\naround my house actin' like they don't have work of their\nown to do, I know how to make 'em feel they're not\nwanted. Charity is for folks that ask for it, and when\nother people do your work look out for trouble. I'm\nnot hankerin' for more than I've got and you'll have to\nbe sendin' her away.\" She stopped and looked at Martin\nso hard he thought she was getting ready to jump up at\nhim. \"Martin, the most wicked thing you could do\nwould be marryin\" she said.\nHe ate everything in sight that she left, and ran down\nthe street. The back door of the Mcßride house was\nclosed and the kitchen was dark. Somebody struck a\nmatch. In a few minutes Jean came to the door'and said,\n\"Oh, Martin Hupp.\" He pulled his cap off his tousled\nhair. \"Are you drunk?\" she said. \"I mean because\nfather is, and you never came to see me before.\" Martin\nasked her to go to the picture show. \"I don't like them,\nyou know,\" she said. \"All the other girls do and I don't\nsee why you asked me instead of them.\" She held out a\nhandful of her pale, yellow hair, laughing. \"I've just\nwashed it; smell it. It smells like soap. It'll look awful.\nShall we go to the one that's just opened?\"\nShe told Martin to wait outside. He thought he was\nafraid of her—she talked just like his mother, about any-\nthing that came into her head. Anyway, if she said\nanything again about not wanting to go with him—he\nwould just walk away from her. He thanked her first\nfor helping his mother, as soon as she came back. He\nthought she acted ashamed. Everybody called her ugly,\nand he guessed, after all, she was, though he could not\nhelp looking at her.\nAfter he thanked her, they were both silent, and then\nJean laughed. .\"She hates me awful,\" she said. \"You\ncan't tell me she's your mother, because I never thought\nyou looked like her at all. I never do things when I\nhave to ,do you? Unless somebody makes me. I did it\nbecause I just saw it made your mother mad. Mamma\nmakes me sew, and I don't mind, because I put things\ntogether wrong. I can't help. She has to do it all over\nagain.\"\n\nPoet and Flower. By Djuna Barnes"}, {"page_pdf": 18, "page_imprimee": "870", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.18", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\nBruno's Weekly, published weekly by Charles Edison, and edited and written by Guido Bruno, both at 58 Wash-\nington Square, New York City. Subscription $2 a year.\nEntered as second class matter at the Post Office of New York, N. Y., October 14th, 1915, under the Act\nof March 3d, 1897.\n\nFortieth Anniversary of The Custer Fight\nBy Frank Fiske\nFort Yates, N. Dak.\nIN this day and age when the greatest battles of the\nworld's history are being fought, it is hard for a busy\nman to keep posted on the rapid march of events. In\norder to be well informed on the progress of the several\nconflicts now going on we cannot devote much time to a\nstudy of the battles of a bygone day. And we are so\naccustomed to hearing about the slaughter of men by the\ntens of thousands that a battle in which a few hundred\nmen are killed is given scant attention.\nBut forty years ago all the world was interested in the\ncampaign of the United States troops against the Sioux\nIndians of the Northwest, and General G. A. Custer was\na national hero.\nOn the 25th day-of June, 1876, the Seventh Cavalry\nunder command of Custer, met the Sioux Indians under\nGall, Crazy Horse, Inkpaduta, Black Moon and Sitting\nBull. The Indian camp was found upon the west side\nof the Little Big Horn River and was reached by Custer's\ncommand at about nine o'clock in the morning. Custer\nsent Major Reno with three troops to attack it from\nthe south, and Captain Benteen with three troops to\nprevent the Indians from retreating to the west, and\nCaptain McDougal with one troop was left to guard the\npack train, while Custer, with five troops, moved to the\nnorth, down the river, to attack the camp at the upper\nend.\nEvery school boy in the land knows what happened.\nReno was forced to retreat to the east side of the river\nwhere he entrenched his troops on the top of a hill. He\nwas joined here by Benteen and McDougal, while Custer\nand his men were wiped out to the last man.\nWhile this fight may seem quite insignificant when\ncompared with our modern battles, the men who fought\nand died there were every bit as brave as the heroes of\nto-day.\nAnd so, in commemoration of the event, the fortieth\nanniversary of the fight was celebrated in a fitting manner\non the battle field beside the picturesque Little Big Horn\nRiver in Montana. White and Indian survivors of the\ntroublous times of '76 met there to pass around the pipe\nof peace, and pledge themselves to an everlasting friend-\nship and a solemn dedication of their services to the better-\nment of the races, red and white.\nReams and reams of paper have been filled with descrip-\ntions of the Custer Fight. Hours and hours, that have\nlengthened into many a long day have been spent by\nstudents of Indian warfare in telling just how it came\nabout. The men who were in the country then, the\nsoldiers, scouts and trappers, each has had his own version\nof the affair to tell, and nearly all of them have written\nbooks about it. There has been many an argument brought\nup by these survivors, and many a question asked that\nhas remained unanswered, until one can hardly blame\nsome people who refuse to believe what they hear or half\nthey see.\nI suppose that the aevarge reader of this article will\nnot believe that I have written the original copy on a\nfield desk that was used by General Custer. The very\ndesk where he penned such glowing accounts of his travels\nthrough the wild and untamed west. lam sure that many\nof the old timers will say that it is not his desk, but I\nwill continue to believe it is until presented with mighty\nstrong evidence to the contrary.\nWe have positive proof that Curly, the Crow scout, was\nthe-only man with Custer's command who got out alive.\nBut from time to time we see newspaper accounts of the\ndiscoverer of \"the only survivor of the fight.\" These\n\"survivors\" have amounted to quite a number, and if\nthey could all be brought together, they would constitute\na body of men far in excess of the number who actually\nwere with Custer. Taking their word for it, we find that\nnot a man was killed excepting the general, and we may\nfind him bobbing up in some unexpected corner in the\nvicinity of one of our insane asylums, perhaps.\nDid Custer really wear long hair? Was it yellow?\nAnd did he wear a buckskin suit?\nAt what time of day did the fight take place?\nDid the Indians know who they were fighting, and\nwhat they were fighting about? And did they mutilate\nthe dead?\n\nRead FRANK HARRIS' \"LIFE OF OSCAR\nWILDE AND HIS CONFESSIONS\"\nWrite for the prospectus which will be mailed to you free of charge by Frank Harris, 3 Washington Square, New York City"}, {"page_pdf": 20, "page_imprimee": "[872]", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160722-01.1.20", "texte": "Rare Books First Editions\nExtra Illustrated Books. Early Printed Books. Association Books. Books for Christinas Gifts.\nPurchased singly or in sets lor people who have neither time nor opportunity to select for themselves,\n•r for those who have not access to the best book marts. Why not begin collecting now?\nAddress, E. V. Boston Transcript, Boston, Mass.\nFor Houses, Apartments or Rooms, See\nPEPE & BRO.\nREAL ESTATE AND INSURANCE\n40 So. Washington Smn\nTelephone 4119 Spring\nCor. of MacDougal Street\nBeing a book\nINWH I C H\nwe say just what we think. Published every month by Norman-Bel Geddes at 171 Wilson Avenue\nin Detroit, Michigan. It is a little book uniquely illustrated. Write for sample copy.\nI BUY BOOKS\nSingle volumes, small lots, and libraries; autograph letters of known literary men and\nartists, drawings, pictures and engravings. Address\n\"COLLECTOR,\" Care of Bruno's Weekly, 58 Washington Sq.\nROSSI BROTHERS\n58 Washington Square\nUnderneath the Garret\nICE CREAM AND TOBACCO\nThe Mad Hatter Has a Tea Party Every Afternoon\nFrom 3 to 6 at\n150 WEST FOURTH STREET\nJust Down the Rabbit Hole From Washington Square\n\"Take Some More Tea\"\n\"I've Had Nothing Yet So I Can't Take More\"\n\"You Mean You Can't Take Less, It's Very Easy to\nTake More Than Nothing/'\n\"Nobody Asked Your Opinion\" Edith Unger.\nThere can be no pleasanter place to hear that remarkable\nEdison Record Number (82536) than\nTHE DIAMOND DISC SHOP\nat Number 10 Fifth Avenue\ni\ni\nIn this store, at least, the delightful atmosphere of Old Greenwich Village has not been\non die altar erf commercialism\nPhone: Stuyvesant 4570\nA postal will bring you, with our compliments,\nan interesting little biography of Mr. Then. A.\nEdison"}]}