{"numero_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-09-09-01", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01", "ocr_sha256": "c17855e96346c2b4337c3f17f61d9124545d47693611be1b8bab75cd43270e92", "source_tei": "https://github.com/Princeton-CDH/bluemountain-transcriptions/blob/main/periodicals/bmtnaaq/issues/1916/09/09_01/bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01.tei.xml", "source_mets": "https://github.com/pulibrary/BlueMountain/blob/main/metadata/periodicals/bmtnaaq/issues/1916/09/09_01/bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01.mets.xml", "url_numero": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01", "articles": [{"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-09-09-01-c001", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01#c001", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "couv. 1", "page_fin": "couv. 1", "image_debut": 1, "image_fin": 1, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.2.1", "titre_corps": "The contents include:", "titre_sommaire": "The contents include:", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 1, "page_imprimee": "couv. 1", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.1", "debut_caractere": 198, "fin_caractere_exclue": 373, "texte": "The contents include:\nA Scarlet Letter for the Fallen Man\nThree Dollars And Sixty Cents\nFifth Aventie\nSplitting the Ears of the Groundlings\nTwo People—The Romance of One Night"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-09-09-01-c002", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01#c002", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "couv. 1", "page_fin": "couv. 1", "image_debut": 1, "image_fin": 1, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.2.1.1", "titre_corps": "LEONHARD ST JOHN", "titre_sommaire": "LEONHARD ST JOHN", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 1, "page_imprimee": "couv. 1", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.1", "debut_caractere": 180, "fin_caractere_exclue": 196, "texte": "LEONHARD ST JOHN"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-09-09-01-c003", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01#c003", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "[969]", "page_fin": "[969]", "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=bmtnaaq19160909-01.2.2", "titre_corps": "We of the City", "titre_sommaire": "We of the City", "signature_source": "Clement Yore", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 3, "page_imprimee": "[969]", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.3", "debut_caractere": 142, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1307, "texte": "We of the City\nClement Yore\nIt is chill and wet and the sun has set\nBehind the sullen city,\nIt is cold and damp where the dim street lamp\nLooks on with barren pity—\nOh! the laughs that mock and shock and block\nThe very souls that melty\nMid the snarling sneers and jeers and tears\nWhich in the air are felt.\nIt is man and stoney red flesh and bone\nt\" Raised but tossatisfyyy\nIt is lustful fire exposed for hire\nWhich seems to carnify.\nOh! the brains that leap and steep and sleep\nIn the lust and vice and shamey\n3Tis the awesome thrill that kills and stills\nAnd defiles with Passion's flame.\n*\nWhat is name or birth or singular worth,\nWhat is Honory Truth or Pridey\nWhat matters it all when at last we fall\nStripped to our wantoned hide?\nOh! the pinky pink arms and swarms of charms\nHidden to tease and lurey\nOh! the calling eyes with cries and sighs\nWho cares if they're impure?\nIt is gold and wealth and a little of healthy\nTo enable us better to plunge\nInto the shame of race not with a blame face\nQuickly our past to expunge—\ncTis the constant sip of lips that drip\nThat washes our soulsaawayyy\nBut the souls come back all black to rack\nWhen we have had our day."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-09-09-01-c004", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01#c004", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "[969]", "page_fin": "970", "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=bmtnaaq19160909-01.2.3", "titre_corps": "A Scarlet Letter for the Fallen Man!", "titre_sommaire": "A Scarlet Letter for the Fallen Man!", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 3, "page_imprimee": "[969]", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.3", "debut_caractere": 1309, "fin_caractere_exclue": 5010, "texte": "A Scarlet Letter for the Fallen Man!\nA propos the vigorous efforts of the N. Y. Police and of\nprivate individuals to disband the alleged vice ring\nAND still we have her with us.\nShe is not gone—the miserable being, vilified as\nthe lowest of her sex; the harlot, who tramples her\nwomanhood beneath costly, booted feet; the prostitute,\nsociety's most mournful figure; the street-walker, who\nfeigns with frigid, money-hungry heart the transports\nof love and offers herself as the supine machine of lust;\nthe strumpet, scorned as the most degraded of her kind\nand doomed to disease and wretchedness ; the courtesan,\nwho is thought of with an indignant shudder and whose\nname is a shame to speak; the cyprian, who is shunned\non the avenue as a leper by the same man whom she\nattracted the night before in her paint and gaudy\nplumage.\nAnd here she stands, this modem Magdalen, the\nsupreme personification of vice!\nWhat will you do with her?\nWill you ponder longer the silly, sociological screets\nconjured forth from asinine researches of dydactic\nduffers, wrestling with the seventh commandment? Will\nyou await a \"few hundred more of the suggestions of\nthese for eliminating this priestess of humanity, who\nfor ages has stood blasted for the sins of her unchasted\nfellow creatures? Will you hearken longer to the pip-\nings of reformers who shout their sermons of segrega-\ntion? Will you continue to drive her into a corner, then\ninto the confines of a quarter, then urge her to shift her\nstatus again, somewhere else where she may turn neither\nto the right nor to the left? Will you force her to over-\nflow her cup of segregation and spread herself, a circular\ncataract of viciousness, into your residence districts,\nwhere your wives dwell and your children play?\nOr will you \"drown her like a rat!\" ?\nWe have experimented long enough to know that the\nreformation of the so-called \"fallen woman\" and the\nsolution of the \"tenderloin\" problem are not as simple\nas lacing a boot. We know that in the attempt to succeed\nin these we are seeking to outrival Hercules. For,\nindeed, what, specifically, has been accomplished by\nreform organizations, charity clubs, ponderous legis-\nlation and relief societies? How much: progress has\nbeen made toward the ultimate solution of the problem\nby the crusades galore, which have been launched and\nexploited?\nIs it not possible that the reformers sincere or notorr\niety thirsting, and the legislators, corrupt or honest, may\nhave been shooting their ammunition from the wroijg\nshoulder?\nWhat attention, by the way, has been paid to the\n\"fallen man\"in the social equation?\nThe knowing gentlemen- and trouser-wishing woman-\nreformers seem to have overlooked the fact that the man\nin society might perhaps be an important factor in the\npremise of their problem. So much has he been for-\ngotten, in fact, that the word \"fallen\" is now generally\naccepted only to bear pertinence to the demeaned, child-\nbearing sex. Let the masculine contingent of society be\never so degraded, depraved, rotten and morally disinte-\ngrated, he is not referred to as a \"fallen man.\"\nPossibly, being a man, the argument is that he is\nblocked from falling lower.\nBut the truth remains, that were there no men in this\nworld, there would be no prostitutes, no bawdy houses\nand no brothels. It is a simply cause and effect equation.\nInstead, then, of \"drowning them like rats,\"—instead\nof herding them into geographical realms of rottenness,\nwhich stand as barbaric blotches between the spasmodic\nravages of reformers, why not pay a little attention\nto the masculine element in the problem? What, in-\ndeed, would be wrong with a solution which would\ndemand of society the branding of the male, when he"}, {"page_pdf": 4, "page_imprimee": "970", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.4", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1863, "texte": "descends to the level of the lust-shop creature, with\nthe same stigma of its contempt as is accorded his\nfallen sister? What would be the of an\ninnovation which would ostracise from polite society\nevery immoral man with the same expedition with\nwhi£h the woman wins the social frown?\nThen of how many male members could modern so-\nciety boast? How many moral-certificate gentlemen\nwould remain, when once the false-faced, pseudo-civi-\nlized lie of the double moral standard was shufflled into\nthe ethical scrap heap? How many unlicenced libertines\nand notorious roues would be unveiled, when the decep-\ntive veneer and hypocritical mask was jerked from the\ncountenance of secret moral derelicts?\nWhere would lie the injustice if an experiment were\nmade to place some of the blame for present-day moral\nputrecence upon the other sex? Does the woman in\nthe brothel and demirep domicile deserve all the stigma\nof social contempt? Who put her there? Did she\nconceive the inclination toward moral turpitude and\nfeminine depravity when she was alone in her child-\nhood home with her mother?\nThere is only one answer.\nThen why not a movement with the immoral male-\nbranding scheme for its basis? Why not a Scarlet\nLetter for every, man who contributes to the evil ?\nWhy a double standard with immunity for the stronger\nof the two offenders?\nOr is man so irretrievably rotten in his soul that the\nworld has decided to put up with him as a necessary\nevil? Possibly the reformer will reply that the modern\ncivilisation is so set in her ways that to adopt a\nScarlet Letter label for every \"weak brother,\"—for\nevery \"fallen man\"—would mean that women would\nhave nothing to do with the moral-certificate remnant;\nthat they might suspect that there was something ab-\nnormal about his physiological mechanism or that his\nintellect needed a mental pulmotor. F* E."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-09-09-01-c005", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01#c005", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "970", "page_fin": "971", "image_debut": 4, "image_fin": 5, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.2.4", "titre_corps": "Three Dollars and Sixty Cents", "titre_sommaire": "Three Dollars and Sixty Cents", "signature_source": "Guido Bruno", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 4, "page_imprimee": "970", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.4", "debut_caractere": 1865, "fin_caractere_exclue": 5738, "texte": "Three Dollars and Sixty Cents\nBy Guido Bruno\nTHE air was crisp and biting cold. Every breath\nformed a misty cloud of vapor. The newly fallen\nsnow crunched musically at each step. The sky above\nwas a dome of dark blue—clear and boundless. Two\nor three stars twinkled far apart. Trees along the\navenue hung their branches heavy and specter-like in\nthe bridal attire of winter.\nEveryone enjoyed the first, real, winter evening.\nHe too was peaceful and satisfied as he strolled along\nthe avenue. It was one of Nature's novelties, he\nthought, loved by all because of its newness.\nHe turned to cross the street. Some carriages were\npassing, carrying women, cloaked for the first time in\ntheir heavy winter furs. He waited while they passed.\nSomeone touched him gently upon the arm. It was\na young girl, poorly but prettily dressed, perhaps she\ndesired his assistance in crossing the street,l he thought\nat first. He raised his hat to her.\n\"Will you take me with you please?\" the girl asked.\nHe turned to her, surprised at the request, but more\nastonished at the seriously sad yet happily expectant\neyes that gazed up at him.\n\"Take you with me?\" he repeated hesitatingly. \"I\ndon't quite understand what you mean/' he added in an\napologetic tone.\n\"Take me anywhere you'd like to,\" she said, flushing,\nher eyes evading his gaze.\nAn understanding began to dawn upon him.\n\"I live only a short distance from here,\" he returned.\n\"If you wish to come with me I have a few paintings and\nsome bric-a-brac, which I think you'd like to see.\"\nSo together they went to his apartments. On the way\nhe made several attempts at conversation but won no\nresponse from the girl.\nHe stopped at the door and drew out his latch-key.\nThe girl interrupted him.\n\"Now will you please give me three dollars and sixty\ncents if I go in here with you?\" she said timorously, as\nshe gazed up at him.\n\"Certainly, certainly,\" he replied, surprised again and\nlooking curiously at her as he stepped aside to admit her\ninto the vestibule.\nIn his apartments she removed her hat and g&zed\nanxiously about her.\n\"Do you like my paintings?\" he asked.\n\"Yes sir, I do,\" she answered, looking blankly about\nthe room, as though only little interested in what she\nsaw.\nHe could not explain the girl's peculiar actions. Her\nqueer conduct was so different.\nBut she was beautiful, healthy and young.\nAnd he was a man.\nShe had refused the gold piece, which he had offered\nher and insisted upon receiving only three dollars and\nsixty cents. This he had counted out for her.\nAll the happenings of the evening had been extra-\nordinary. He was in a quandary. He opened his win-\ndow just in time to hear the door below creak and see\nher tripping down steps and out onto the snowy\nwalk. The slender girlish tform was hurrying along,\nchildlike and innocent—just as innocent as she really\nwas when she had entered the house a short time be-\nfore.\nHe was curious. He wanted to know more about\nthis girl. Why had she acted so differently? Who was\nshe wd where had she gone? An impulse seized him.\nHe dashed downstairs, took his overcoat and hat and\nran out into the street after the figure vanishing in the\ndarkness.\nHe spied her nearly a block and half away. He fol-\nlowed. She turned a corner and turned again, with him\nin pursuit. He found himself in a peculiar neighbor-\nhood, which he had never before seen.\nFinally he saw her enter a dimly lighted drugstore.\nHe stood and waited.\nHe was surprised to find such a neighborhood so close\nto his apartments. There were tall tenement buildings\nwith little, dingy rooms and ragged, dirty curtains at the\nwindows. The drugstore was one of the old fashioned\nstores in the poorer districts, where modern things had\nnot made their mark. Flickering gas lights burned\nbehind two small, and red globes in the window.\nAn old stove stood near the door and the glass in two of\nthe show cases was broken."}, {"page_pdf": 5, "page_imprimee": "971", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.5", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1257, "texte": "She remained in the store only a short time. When\nshe reappeared she hurried along again. He followed\nonce more but lost the girl. She must have slipped into\none of the buildings.\nHe entered the stqre and addressed the greasy\nproprietor behind the prescription counter.\n\"Pardon me, sir, but do you know the girl who was\njust here?\"\nThe man thought for a moment.\n\"A girl? Let me see>\" he said. \"Oh yes, the little\ngirl who was just here? Why, I think she lives in the\nneighborhood somewhere close by. You know how they\nare here in the tenement district. They think the drug-\ngist, the physician and the undertaker are charitable\ninstitutions. They buy very little and only when they\nare in need. Then they come to me and ask me to trust\nthem for medicine. Why should I? If I do, they don't\ncome back with the money.\n\"Now take this girl for instance. She was here this\nmorning and brought a prescription. It was for her\nmother, who is sick. It was an expensive prescription—\nthree dollars and sixty cents. She wanted me to trust\nher. 1 refused. She left the prescription and promised\nto call for the medicine to-night. These people always\nfind a way to get a little money when the need is vital.\nI told her she could get it if she only tried.\""}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-09-09-01-c007", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01#c007", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "971", "page_fin": "971", "image_debut": 5, "image_fin": 5, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.2.6", "titre_corps": "Cabaret", "titre_sommaire": "Cabaret", "signature_source": "Vincent Starrett", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 5, "page_imprimee": "971", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.5", "debut_caractere": 1259, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2637, "texte": "Cabaret\nVincent Starrett\nTANGO is the dance for me,\"\nPlayed the fiddlers merrily;\nAnd gliding dancers spun\nBack and forth in furious fun;\nBent and swayed in carnal glee—\n\"Tango is the dance for me!\"\nUp and down the crooked aisles,\nWhirling, go the latest styles;\n'Round and through, between the tables.\nGuests have laid aside their sables;\nLifted high their foreign silks—\nBrains afire with foreign milks.\nMen in somber evening wear\nDrunkenly essayed the\nShort and tall and thin and fat,\nCapering with bawd and brat.\nSqueeze your partner—mad embrace—\nChampagne breath on powdered face.\nCame a maiden to the stage-—\n(Maiden, said I?) Guess her age!\nTwenty-seven ? Thirty-two ?\nMight be either—either'll do.\nSang a song about the woods—\nGirl and fellow—\"Damaged Goods.\"\nShrieked the diners in their glee:\n\"Tango is the dance for me!\"\n\"N'other bottle .... Make it two . . .\nKeep the shange, George; thash for you.\"\nCrash of cymbals—whoop-de-dee!\n\"Tango is the dance for me!\"\n'Round and 'round and 'round and 'round;\nTomorrow we'll be under ground—\n\"Devil's subway\"—good joke, what?\nClose at one? Yes, we do not!\nCall your cab at two or three—\n\"Drive shlow, cabby .... Who'sh to shee!\"\n** * 0\nSome time when the going's high\nAnd I don't care how I die—\nThey will kill me, sure, for cause—\nJust to give that party pause,\nI shall rise and sing out free:\n\"Professor! Play The Rosary'!\""}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-09-09-01-c009", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01#c009", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "971", "page_fin": "971", "image_debut": 5, "image_fin": 5, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.2.7", "titre_corps": "Nocturne", "titre_sommaire": "Nocturne", "signature_source": "Omaha (Nebraska", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 5, "page_imprimee": "971", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.5", "debut_caractere": 2639, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2826, "texte": "Nocturne\nOmaha (Nebraska)\nTHE silvery, sleepy twilight-notes of birds,\nA low wind stirring in the murmurous pines,\nPeace in the drowsy fields and under all\nThe mighty diapason of the sea."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-09-09-01-c010", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01#c010", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "972", "page_fin": "973", "image_debut": 6, "image_fin": 7, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.2.8", "titre_corps": "Fifth Avenue", "titre_sommaire": "Fifth Avenue", "signature_source": "Guido Bruno", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 6, "page_imprimee": "972", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.6", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 4933, "texte": "Fifth Avenue\nBy Guido Bruno\n\nTWO lon§ rows of light. White glowing bulbs. Two\nand two. In distances that seem shorter and\nshorter. Two long lines that meet somewhere—far, far\naway in the indefinite. Two long rows up Fifth avenue\nleading to the indefinite. Two long rows down Fifth\navenue, leading to the indefinite.\nBrilliant signs—huge, green, red and yellow, here and\nthere, west of Fifth avenue and east of Fifth avenue.\nMillions are happy and full of joy; gay and living\nliving.\nMillions are wretched and miserable: starving . . .\nstarving.\nThe doors of the houses are closed, the window shades\nare drawn. Business buildings are taking a refreshing\nnap.\nMillions are suffering behind closed house-doors, mil-\nlions ai*e comfortably content, and millions are happy\nbehind the drawn window shades.\nAutos, trucks, carriages and buses move mp and down\nFifth avenue. Towards their destination. Pedestrians\nwalk and talk, laugh and are silent, are worried and\nbrooding. Policemen patrol their corners. They look\nup and down Fifth avenue, that the lights might glow\non the sidewalks and the vehicles might pass to and fro\nin their roadways.\nBut heart, dear little heart, why do you beat against\nmy breast? Why do you send your waves of unrest and\nof love through the body up to the brain and back\nto eyes, ears, finger tips and mouth?\nDear little heart, don't you see the policeman who\noversees the long rows of glowing bulbs that meet no-\nwhere and who commands vehicles to stop and pedesp\ntrians to move on?\nYou see the stars, my poor little neglected friend?\nYou see the moon and the white clouds passing forth\nand back? You see the electric-lighted cross that locks\nthe huge church doors preventing HIM to enter as once\nupon a time it meant the goal of his life .... jtist to\nthere and no farther?\nThe Enormous Street Sign\nPICTURES of the passion way upon which millions\nwalk and bleed. - - - Silvers Selects Chalmers.\nBudweiser. . . The Passing Show of 1916. . . Bene-\ndictine. . . Shows. . . Cabarets. . . Cigarettes. . . Danc-\ning. . .\nMoney, money, money.\nThe Painted Girl of the Street\nSOMEONE once opened her eyes. Someone once\ntold her it was all right. Life had its place for\nher. . . The woman at home that trusts you. . . The\npainted girl too was a mother's baby. . .\nMoney, money, money.\nThe Family Scene on the Street\nTHE restaurant entrance. The starter tips his hat,\nthe hat boy tips his hat, the chaffeur tips his hat.\nShe gaudeously-dressed, smiling. He smartly dressed,\nsmiling. Diamonds, good food, good drinks, a nice home\nwaiting. . .\nMoney, money, money.\nThe Bench on Madison Square\nSLOWLY wear away the hours of the night. The big\ntower clock strikes the time heavily. He looks to\nthe left. He looks to the right. He is grateful. . . no\npoliceman is in sight. He thinks of what was. He\nthinks of what could be. He forgets what is. He hopes\nfor what might be. It is cold. It is dirty . . .\nalone, alone. . .\nMoney, money, money!\nThe Preacher on the Cornor of Twenty-Fourth Street\nknow notf: what may happen tomorrow. All\n1 of you are well-fed. You have had your gay\nevening. Here these poor wretches walk at the streets\nfrom morning till now. Fifteen cents will buy them a\nbed. It will give them new courage. I won't tell\nyou about the mercy Christ preached. I won't ex-\nplain to you the meaning of neighborly love: but to-\nmorrow, or some day after tomorrow, you may be here\nin this very line. Thertfore, give your share today.\"\nMoney, money, money.\n•».. . • fcii ' 1\nThe Hand-Out Man\n\"Y°U not know quite sure whether I really do\n1 not want that nickel for a bed or for a cup of\ncoffee. Maybe you are mistaken, but you cannot know\nwhether I will buy a glass of beer. And if I do?\nThe nickle is lost to you anyhow, and the saloon is about\nthe only place where I can purchase equality with the\nrailroad magnate for just your nickel.,,\nMoney, money, money.\nThe Woman on the Bench in Union Square Reserved for\nWomen\nTHE star of hope. It has shone for me all my life.\nSomehow I cannot even now discard it from my\nthoughts. I was mother. I have sinned against the\nlaws of man. But I was mother .... a little funds would\nenable me to take my things out of pawn. Where could\nmy son find me? And he may be looking for me this\nvery night.\nMoney, money, money.\nMILLIONS are happy in their beds. Millions are\nwretched in their beds. Millions are on their\nway to regrets and to unhappiness. Millions are wounded\nand sick. Millions are killing and stealing. Wronging\nother millions.\nSome are starving, some have plenty.\nAll need things and all deny things to others. All\nwant money. . .\nAnd they are starving for love.\nAll have hearts and they do not dare to listen to their\nown heart throbs.\nThey look for money and want to buy love.\nLove gives love and money.\nTwo long rows of gleaming light; up Fifth avenue\nleading to the indefinite; down Fifth avenue leading to\nthe indefinite.\nAnd hearts and stars. . ."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-09-09-01-c011", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01#c011", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "973", "page_fin": "973", "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=bmtnaaq19160909-01.2.8.1", "titre_corps": "DRAWING by DJUNA BARNES", "titre_sommaire": "DRAWING 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": 7, "page_imprimee": "973", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.7", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 39, "texte": "DRAWING by DJUNA BARNES"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-09-09-01-c012", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01#c012", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "973", "page_fin": "974", "image_debut": 7, "image_fin": 8, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.2.9", "titre_corps": "Greenwich Village Attacked", "titre_sommaire": "Greenwich Village Attacked", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 7, "page_imprimee": "973", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.7", "debut_caractere": 41, "fin_caractere_exclue": 3789, "texte": "Greenwich Village Attacked\nONE of Mr. Munsey's Sunday paper bards used last\nweek the space of his supposedly humorous page\nto a coleric attack upon Greenwich Village in general,\nand its restaurants, its girls, and its garret in especial.\nIt is the attempted Bohemianism that got his goat. He\ndisplayed his knowledge of Henri Murger and he honored\nme by comparing my garret to Murger's garret. And he\nfound from a careful examination of both garrets that\nthe one in which Murger lived had literary value, be-\ncause there was no bath-tub and Murger had no money\nto live anywhere else. And therefore he handed the\nlaurels of \"true Bohemianism\" to Henri.\nIf a man is once forty-five with a neat little bald spot\nsurrounded by a thin growth of silver threads, if one\nwears spectacles on black strings and if one has been\na Forty-second street Bohemian for the last fifteen\nyears, known and hailed by all the \"girlies\" of that\nsection, one acquires a good portion of vanity. And\nthere is no severer sting for one's vanity than to remain\nunnoticed in restaurants and cafes which appeal so very\nmuch to one's \"taste for Bohemianism.\" Especially if\none has been for fifteen years a Forty-second street\nBohemian and if one arrives in Greenwich Village with\na heart filled to the brim with \"Bohemianism\"\nBohekiianism? What a blooming fool must a man be\nwho even thinks of the possibility of a Bohemia in New\nYork. And doesn't he know that the same second one\nis conscious of being a Bohemian one also becomes an\nimpostor.\nThis man doesn't know more about Murger than about\nGreenwich Village and the Garret.\nThere never was an air of Bohemianism about the\nGarret. At the time that I came to Greenwich Village\ntwo years and a half ago. after an absence of about six\nyears, we had no fancy shops here and no Bohemian\nplaces of the purple and orange brand. _\nMr. Coady had just opened his Washington Square\nGalleries and was doing his best to introduce to the\nexhibitors on Fifth avenue and to the public at large the\nnew French art, which since has become the vogue of\nour art connoisseurs. I started my little magazine,\n\"Greenwich Village\" in a little 2x2 hall room in number\n42, that famous house where Jenny Lind had lived and\nmany others since famous in art und letters. It was a\nreal garret and I surely didn't live there because I\nwouldn't have preferred to live in another more com-\nfortable place. \"Here is my magazine,\" I said, \"and\nwhoever has anything to say is welcome to use its\npages.\" And they came and used them. Many authors\nwhose names are found to-day on the tables of contents\nof national magazines and on the lists of publishers\nfound here their first chance to have their say. And\nthen one day the present garret—they called it garret, I\ndidn't christen it—was available and I rented it, I had\nplenty of wall space and therefore I said, \"If you have\ndrawings or paintings which you wish to show to the\nworld or at least to the world that cares to look at them\nhang them on my walls, everybody will be welcome to\nview them.\" And so they did. I have had fourteen ex-\nhibitions in the Garret during the last season. None of\nthe exhibitors had put their works of art on exhibition\nbefore. Twelve have made their way since and you meet\nto-day their drawings in your magazines and their paint-\nings in the uptown galleries.\nWhere is there any attempt at Bohemianism?\nI like business and I like art, but I think there is noth-\ning more pitiable than a business man who attempts to\nbe an artist or an aritst who attempts to be a business\nman. And there is nothing more loathsome than a\nbusiness man who professes to be an artist in order to do\nbusiness. And there is none more unsuccessful and\nbound to come jto grief than the artist who proclaims."}, {"page_pdf": 8, "page_imprimee": "974", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.8", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2471, "texte": "himself a business man in order to be able to follow his\nart\nTo create a place of business in order to gather\nliterateurs and artists is possible only in one instance:\nif this place of business be an eating-place where liquors\nare served if one desires such. Genius can never unite\nin unions under the protection of the Federation of\nLabor. Genius gives and takes freely, without con-\nsideration of values. Barter and exchange in the\ninterest of art and of literature is disasteful to genius.\nTherefore, a Henri Murget would have become a daring\nWall Street speculator, had he been in America, or he\nwould have spent two-thirds of his life as a vagrant on\nBlackwell's Island. A genius in America translates his\npoetry into bridge-building, his romanticism into the\ncotton exchange and his imagination into Wall Street.\nThe dreamers of prose pastels await on park benches\nthe sunrise of their days and many find a rest in jails and\nother charitable institutions before they are laid away\nin Potter's Field.\nGood artisans possess the technique, the ability of\nconcentration, and the endurance which make the man\nof genius an immortal artist. But an artisan if not a\nman of genius exercises self-deception if he believes\nhimself an artist.\nOur magazines, our newspapers, our art dealers are\nin sore need of good craftsmen and of skilled artisans.\nThey have no use for artists.. Their supreme endeavor\nis to kill originality. To tone down genius to the standard\nof mediocrity, aspired to by many thousands as the\nsupreme achievement of their earthly travels.\nGenius needs a discoverer who acts as the mediator\nbetween art and thejnasses. Such a discoverer must be\na critic. A critic must be a creator. Only a creator can dis-\ncriminate between the beautiful and the ugly. The med-\niator between art and the masses must not be the ex-\nploiter of a rich vocabulary but the man with the firm look\nand the firm hand. He must have the singular courage to\nsay: \"This is a beautiful painting,\" and if he is a creator\nhe will know how to defend his opinion by unshakeable\nstatements of truth. He will be able to point out the\nbeauties of a work of literature in simple words wtfich\nwill find an appeal in the hearts of every one of us, of\nus, who constitute the masses.\nCommercial values are no values to the critic of\nobjects of art. As long as the critic has to pass the\nadvertising department on his way to the composition\nroom he will never reach his destination."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-09-09-01-c015", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01#c015", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "974", "page_fin": "975", "image_debut": 8, "image_fin": 9, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.2.12", "titre_corps": "A New Song of Solomon", "titre_sommaire": "A New Song of Solomon", "signature_source": "Tom Sleeper", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 8, "page_imprimee": "974", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.8", "debut_caractere": 2473, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2965, "texte": "A New Song of Solomon\nTom Sleeper\n\nrHY voice is like the wind in the cedars\nOh my love.\nAnd thine eyes shine like opals, wet with the dew of deep\nsummer.\nThy breath is as the perfume of the lilies nodding in the\nstill pool\nOh my Love, my only Love.\nThy heart is a lone fire burning in the wilderness—\nOh my Love.\nIt exalteth my soul with warmth\nIn theHwilight of the murmuring evening\n• ( *\nAnd thy hair is more beautiful than the\nDarkness enwrapping the wan stars\nOh my Love, my ortfly Love."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-09-09-01-c018", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01#c018", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "975", "page_fin": "975", "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=bmtnaaq19160909-01.2.12.3", "titre_corps": "FOUR DRAWINGS by F. COULTON WAUGH", "titre_sommaire": "FOUR DRAWINGS by F. COULTON WAUGH", "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": "975", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.9", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 49, "texte": "FOUR DRAWINGS by F. COULTON WAUGH"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-09-09-01-c021", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01#c021", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "976", "page_fin": "977", "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=bmtnaaq19160909-01.2.13", "titre_corps": "Splitting the Ears of the Groundlings", "titre_sommaire": "Splitting the Ears of the Groundlings", "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": "976", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.10", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 6198, "texte": "Splitting the Ears of the Groundlings\nTHE winter of displeasure for the New York theatrical\ncritic begins nowadays in the later part of July.\nTheatres are multiplying ad infinitum and managers are\nalways building new ones. They have to; they have to\nproduce their shows in New York, they have to arrange\na New York appearance before they s«nd them on the\nroad. Roma locuta est. The New York critic is called\nupon to render a supreme verdict.\nIncomprehensible! Real critics are becoming scarce\nin New York. The entente cordiale between business\noffices of the daily papers and press agents who are\ngiving out the big theatrical advertisements do not seem\nany longer to permit a critical interloper. Therefore per-\nhaps James Huneker fled into the wilderness of Flat-\nbush, grew fat and gray, and writes only pot boilers for\nthe Sunday Times. But the birth-rate of critics is in-\ncreasing since from day today. Every college boy who\nspeaks and writes a Broadway slang—if possible, with\nan Oxford accent—-is gladly accepted as a judge of\ndramatic art.\nDramatic art? She can succeed only in veiy singular\ncases, putting up a hard fight against the coalition. But\notherwise a wonderful harmony is prevailing in the\ntheatrical microcosm of the United States. The\nprovincial managers get the New York verdicts which\nthey wish for and which they deserve. Newspapers are\nbeing blessed with columns of the criticisms that they\ndeserve. The public gets just the sort of newspapers\nthat it deserves. It is a circulus vitiosus and the taste\nof all concerned, verily, will not be improved. The typical\nproduct of this depravity is the leg show-euphemistically\ncalled musical comedy or even comic opera. Supposedly\nwelcomed by the tired business man, the leg show is\nundoubtedly the pet child of the commercial manager,\nof the critic and of the public. That it satisfies the\nmasculine taste—especially of a masculinity tired out\nby business—can be easily understood. It represents\nthe extremest possible exposition of female charms,\npermitted by the police only here—outside of certain\nillegal places of amusement. Also ladies like to visit\nthese shows, escorted by their men friends ; they are so\nanimating. Furthermore, women are objects of a\nstrange worship in these plays. Even in the title, a\ngirl has to figure. The last one is \"The Girl from Brazil\"\nin the Forty-forth Street Theatre. It was, as the \"near\ncritics\" agreed in the morning papers, an average Broad-\nway success. Not on account of the music, which was\nso little new that whole motifs were lifted from Johann\nStrauss's \"The Bat\" and from Oscar Strauss's \"The\nWalz' Dream\", They appeared like spectres of happy\ndays that had gone before. The plot was desperately\nlike other plots of equally low plausibility, which we—\nyou and I—tried to puzzle out on former occasions.\nThe principals on the stage showed the average lack of\nability, of temperament, of style. The chorus girls\nwere not exeptionally beautiful nor had they good voices.\nStill, the verdict was unanimous that the show had\n\"push and go.\" That means a good deal: the possibi-\nlity of a longer or shorter run in New York and to create\nappetite in the provinces. \\\nIt is a good joke that the provincal public will not get\neven half of the New York production. Shoftly before\nthe show is put on the road, the actors of the principal\ncharacters will disappear and will be substituted by\nunderstudies. The managers will commission a musical\nconductor to reduce the thirty or thirty-one orchestral\nparts of the first act to about twelwe. The mortality\namong the chorus girls reduces their number destruo\ntively and very few \"beauties\" are left.\nThat is how the average New York comedy success\nlooks, viewed by the art lovers in Oshkosh and\nSheboygan.\nThe new season has given us a few melodramas with\nplots which are new to no one and a few comedies which\nwere to silly even for the silly season. The exception is\n\"Turn to the Right;\" in the Gaiety Theatre. Mr.\nSmith is a wise Theban,—he took the funny crook plays\nand the \"Old Homestead\" as ingredients to a ragout,\nseasoned with the piquant sauce of slang humor. He\nprepared it in a very palatable manner. New Yorkers\n\"fall for it,\" as they say on Broadway.\nDisappointing was the new \"big show\" in the Hip-\npodrome. The Hippodrome is New York's own. Here\nin past years—thanks to the genius of Arthur Voegtlin—\nwas shown something so spectacular, so big,—with a\ncolor beauty and variety: it was art, even though single ••\nnumbers on the program could not justly claim artistic\nqualities. A style developed and there were unlimited\npossibilities inside of this style.\nCharles Dillingham during the past year made this\nstyle real and opened up new possibilities.\nBut nothing seems quite to fit this year, notwithstand-\ning the lavishly luxurious sceneries. The minstrel show\nis inharmoniously big and long.—Oysters taste well if\none eats' a dozen, but not if taken by the gross. The\ncombination Pavlowa—Bakst—Tschaykowsky is out of\nplace in the Hippodrome. Its right place is in the opera\nhouse.\nMost of the vaudeville numbers lack wit. The music\ndoesn't keep the whole thing together; it falls to pieces\nlike a mosaic you pick up.\nOnly the ice ballet is a delight.\nI believe the big show will undergo big changes during\nthe next month, changes for its own best.\nMOMUS\nDaly's Theatre\nNOW it is the home of melodrama. Ghost of Daly!\nDo you ever visit the temple you built to your art\non Thirtieth Street and Broadway, and do you see\nthe changes that transform it sporadically into a burles-\nque showhouse, a movie theatre, into a political meeting\nhall and into continuous vaudeville?\nWalter Sanford has leased it now and we hope he\nwill meet with success. He intends to produce popular-\npriced dramas.\nIt would be a good thing if there were a theatre where\npeople could drop in and see a drama for the price tff a\n\"Keith ' and Proctor's\" show. They played \"The Hour\nof Temptation\" last week, the program calls it a \"New\nMelodrama, by Lee Morrison.\" There was very much\nof Molnar's \"The Devil\" in it. And there were a few\nscenes that reminded us very much of a certain stock\ncompany in Tecumseh, Michigan, the delight of our"}, {"page_pdf": 11, "page_imprimee": "977", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.11", "debut_caractere": 44, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1459, "texte": "youthful thunder-and-sensation-thirsty soul. The plot-is\nnot worse—if it is not better—than that of the average\nBroadway play. The lack of costly scenery and lavish\nequipment produces a reality which makes the stage a\n\"moral institution\" To see a bit of the Devil, who goes\nabout in sheepskin will do us good once in a while. To\nsee that punishment is inevitable whenever a crime has\nbeen committed is rarely exploited in Broadway show\nhouses.\nPrimitive stage conditions give the actor a chance to\ncreate his parts. Mr. Sanford's company plays well;\nmaking allowances for their often too evident desire\nto please their melodrama-thirsty audience. Anita Card-\nner is a pretty girl and as such would be welcome to\nany city editor as a member of his staff . . . until she\nhad covered her first assignment. William Morris played\nwith a good balance his difficult double part of Satan\nand man. Elinor Montell was attractive as demi mon-\ndaine but a bit too pathetic after her successful struggle\nwith the devil.\nSome evening, if you have nothing better to do, take\na stroll up to Daly's and take in the melodrama. The\nbest seat is fifty cents and between the acts you can\nmeditate upon the quick transition of glory, comparing\nthe splendor of imported tapestry that covers the walls\nand the balustrades of the boxes with the cheap kitchen\nchairs that are taking the place of the comfortable seat-\ning facilities of yore."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-09-09-01-c023", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01#c023", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "977", "page_fin": "978", "image_debut": 11, "image_fin": 12, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.2.14", "titre_corps": "The Romance of One Night", "titre_sommaire": "The Romance of One Night", "signature_source": "Guido Bruno", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 11, "page_imprimee": "977", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.11", "debut_caractere": 1461, "fin_caractere_exclue": 4510, "texte": "Two People.\nThe Romance of One Night\nBy Guido Bruno\n\"I judge from your appearance and especially from\nyour conduct since—well, say, since we met, that we\nbelong to the same class. I want you to bring me to\nsome place where you can hide me—hide me for at least\na week, where I feel absolutely sure to come and go\nwithout being molested. I want you to assist me in\nseveral things that I desire to undertake. In short, I\nwant you to do everything that I might request you to\ndo, promising that nothing will be against law and order.\nBut above all, you must promise never to make even an\nattempt to look at my face. You might call me any name\nyou choose. I won't tell you who I am. Only so much,\nthat the money I have is my own, and that I didn't do\nanything wrong, making it necessary for me to hide or\nflee. Now, please consider my proposition, and if you\nthink that you can carry it out, I shall tell you in detail\nmy plans and see what suggestions you have to make.\"\nDuring all the time she had been speaking, I had\nfought with myself and finally had come to the con-\nclusion to ask her to do it. No matter how unmanly it\nmight seem,T simply could not endure it any longer.\n\"Well?\" she said, \"what do you think of my pro-\nposition?\" after I explain to you the circumstances, you\nwill understand better and you will perhaps pardon my\nstraightforwardness.\" I really felt embarrassed. I didn't\nknow how to say it exactly. She seemed to feel my\nembarrassment and interjected encouragingly, \"I won't\nmind if you say even the worst. I know my conduct\ngives you ample excuse to say anything in the world\nwithout hurting my feelings.\"\n\"Well, then—would you mind to buy me a package\nof cigarettes,\" I blurted out.\n\"A what?\" she asked unbelievingly.\n\"A package of cigarettes — any brand you might,\nchoose—but just cigarettes. For you must know I am\ndead broke. I haven't got a cent in my pockets. I was\nstanding on the corner where you—well, say, met me,\nwaiting for a friend who has the habit of carrying a\npackage of cigarettes in his pockets. I had stood there\nfor almost an hour, waiting for him, to get a couple of\ncigarettes. I would have smoked one of them tonight\nbefore retiring and the other one tomorrow morning.\nYou practically prevented me from getting them so I\nthink it is only fair for you to buy me a package of\ncigarettes.\"\nShe didn't say a word, turned searchingly in all direc-\ntions, discovered a cigar stand, crossed over and came\nback with a package of Pall Malls. If there is any\ncigarette I hate it is a Pall Mall. Its a typical highbrow\ncigarette and I'll bet you'll find mighty few chaps in the\nPall Mall Club smoking Pall Mall cigarettes. But it\nshowed me clearly again the character of this girl. There\nwas first of all a hereditary delicacy that forebade her\nto ask questions, to make a remark or to offer me her\npurse to purchase these cigarettes. And then, her New\nYork breeding: I am sure she went to that cigar counter\nand said, \"Give me the best cigarettes you have,\" what\nthe cigar clerk translated into \"the most expensive"}, {"page_pdf": 12, "page_imprimee": "978", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.12", "debut_caractere": 34, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1741, "texte": "cigarettes in stock.\" He gave her a package of matches,\ntoo.\nNever had a cigarette tasted better to me than this\nPall Mall. It was a luxury. Even Sarah Bernhardt tak-\ning her famous bath in the contents of sixty bottles of\nchampagne, or Nero looking at Rome that he had put on\nfire, composing the poem that would make him immortal,\ncould not have felt better than did I. My companion\nmust have watched me, realizing that I did not wish to\nbe disturbed while I was lighting my cigarette.\n\"How about my proposition now?\" she asked finally,\nafter I had taken my third puff and was really contented,\ncontented with the world in general and with myself and\nmy present situation in particular.\n\"My dear girl,\" I said, \"you have far too beautiful\nhands to commit murder. I don't believe that you are a\nthief and even if you were a murdress and a thief, I\n\"would gladly accept your proposition. Of course, I want\nto know a little more in detail what you will expect me\nto do. But do not mention the twenty-five thousand\ndollars again. It doesn't sound nice. It destroys a lot\nof values in me, values you created unknowingly.\"\nWhile talking she had taken off her gloves and I could\nnot take my eyes away from those wonderful hands.\nThey fascinated me. The funny thing is, I never tried\nto imagine how her face might look.\nI showed her again that she might count on me for\nanything she might want to undertake and reminded her\nof the late hour. It was nearly one o'clock. \"I shall be\nglad to do everything in my power to help you out/' I\nsaid, \"but now, let's go. If you don't want to walk, you\nwill have to pay your fare, and you will have to pay\nmine, too.\"\n\"But where are we going?\"\n* \"To my apartment, of course.\""}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-09-09-01-c024", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01#c024", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "978", "page_fin": "978", "image_debut": 12, "image_fin": 12, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.2.15", "titre_corps": "Why and How I Got Married", "titre_sommaire": "Why and How I Got Married", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 12, "page_imprimee": "978", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.12", "debut_caractere": 1743, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2181, "texte": "Why and How I Got Married\nMany hundred stories, brief and lengthy accounts, arrive every week at the desk of our Contest Editor. Most\nof thm testify that marriage, even in our commonplace age, preserves its old romance and that to relate a story of\nhow Grandfather took Grandmother urges the pen into hands not oterwise ambitious of literary' achievement. A\nhandful of this stories will be chosen every week forthe perusal of our readers."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-09-09-01-c025", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01#c025", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "978", "page_fin": "978", "image_debut": 12, "image_fin": 12, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.2.16", "titre_corps": "A Pleasant Husband", "titre_sommaire": "A Pleasant Husband", "signature_source": "D.D. (Pittsburgh", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 12, "page_imprimee": "978", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.12", "debut_caractere": 2183, "fin_caractere_exclue": 3778, "texte": "A Pleasant Husband\nD.D. (Pittsburgh)\n44\\Y7HY did I get married?\"—keeps running thru my\nW head today, as I sit herein my hot, stuffy office,\ntrying to enjoy two sandwiches and a pickle that wifey\nputin a paper sack this morning at Six.\nLet me see,—yes, I met her at a week end party.\nShe was good loking,—had the color hair I always used to\nrave about.—nice teeth, well built,—and—well to make the\n•story short—we were married.\nJust a year ago last Friday it happened,—and I have been\nwondering \"WHY\" ever since. Worry from morn 'til night.\nFirst—the rent is due,—then a new gown,—a hat to match,\nshoes—on down the list, until my weekly pay envelope really\nlooks sick when I finish paying the \"little incedentals\" as she\ncalls 'em,—out of it.\nAs I sit here, with a sack of Bull Durham on my hip, I\ncan't help thinking of that Silver case,—empty in the top\ndrawer,—that used to be filled with monogramed cigarettes.\nI used to go to the Winter Garden,—now a Picture Show\ngets my dime. I used to have my suits made on Fifth Ave.\nnow I look the papers thru for weeks, to where I can\nget a hand-me-down for $12.98.\nAnd my over-coat is so old—l dread to think what it will\nlook like when the Cleaner brings it back.\nThe Romance before we were married, is changed to worry\nand sighs.\nWhat wouldn't I give for my little old hall room,—a suit\nof clothes that you can wear in the rain without fear of it\nshrinking and being strangled to death,—and a first night at\nthe Winter Garden and some butter-cakes and coffee at\n< Childs.\nI wonder WHY I ever married?\nSimply was lonesome, and to oblige her I gtiess."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-09-09-01-c026", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01#c026", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "978", "page_fin": "979", "image_debut": 12, "image_fin": 13, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.2.17", "titre_corps": "Sacrifice, Privilege of Love", "titre_sommaire": "Sacrifice, Privilege of Love", "signature_source": "Alma W. (Los Angeles", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 12, "page_imprimee": "978", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.12", "debut_caractere": 3780, "fin_caractere_exclue": 5748, "texte": "Sacrifice, Privilege of Love\n\nI was a quiet studious little girl when my grandmother\nremarked casually to my mother that I was the sort of\ngirl who would never marry. Mamma was disturbed and\ndecided to at least give me, the chanpe. Our modest income\nwas stretched to two new dresses and etcetras, an iniation\nfee to an amateur dramatic club, to say nothing of a dance\nor two. I had ae clever mother, and half a dozen beaux soon\nensued. I also had a sense of humor and warned them of\nmamma's nefarious schemes, which proved to be good\ndiplomacy, too. Feeling that the mater deserved to prove\nher point, I accepted the best of my beaux, a wealthy young\nman on the London Stock Exchange, but secretly entered\ninto a six months contract with him by which hearts and\nsmall sundries were to be returned intact, reasonable wear\nand tear excepted, if I failed to fall in love with him. We\nrenewed that contract for 99 years. But . . .\nWell, the Boer War wrecked many fortunes on the Stock\nExchange, including my fiance's. The mater commanded us\nto call the marriage off. Then I proved unexpectedly dis-\nobedient. With nothing but the proceeds of the sale of\njewelry he had given me, we fled from England to California\nas man and wife. It was a wonderful adventure, no money*\nno friends, not much business ability, but lots of love and\nself-confidence. I got a position first, which nearly broke v\nmy husband's heart. But a bank soon discovered it needed\nhis Stock Exchange experience and it was not long before we\nhad our own little home, a baby, a big garden, and many\ngood friends.\nOdd as it may seem, my most poigffant happiness came\nwheh my husband developed tuberculosis, when the baby was\na year old. For it gave me such a chance to prove my love.\nI was the bread-winner and managed to make good on\na newspaper. Every little success I met was such an ex-\nquisite joy, meaning as it did, fresh comforts and care for\nmy sweetheart. And the pride he took in me, and the un-"}, {"page_pdf": 13, "page_imprimee": "979", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.13", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 515, "texte": "deserved but sweet plaudits of the family at home, the\namazing kindness we received from our American friends,\nthe consideration with which my paper treated me, were all\nvery sweet and heartening. I am a widow now after six\nyears of almost unalloyed happiness. Our one big trouble\nwiped out all small tribulations and made them seem so\npuny.\nAnd I still treasure our two copies of that naughty contract\nI drew up when we were first engaged, for fear I might not\nlove him.\n\nMrs. Alma W. (Los Angeles)"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-09-09-01-c027", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01#c027", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "979", "page_fin": "979", "image_debut": 13, "image_fin": 13, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.2.18", "titre_corps": "She does not believe in marriage.", "titre_sommaire": "She does not believe in marriage.", "signature_source": "A.M.B: (N. Y", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 13, "page_imprimee": "979", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.13", "debut_caractere": 517, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1908, "texte": "She does not believe in marriage.\nA.M.B: (N.Y.)\nI was always quite sure that J would marry some day but\n\"The Day\" seemed to be most desirable when it was\nremote. Even as a schoolgirl I had definite dreams of a\ncareer. Marriage was mentally relegated to the late twenties.\nI had always plenty of beaux. There was no hurry. Besides\nno one of the many male friends who came into my life and\npassed out again seemed quite to suit. I meant to marry\nfor love pure and simple but there was always some barrier\nto pervent the incipient grand passion reaching its ultimate\nclimax. The man with the cleanest soul might have the\ndirtiest finger nails; the most ardent lover, alas, was often\nalso the most comperhensive liar; and the fine Mautz, looking\nfellow was too frequently supplied with every physiological\nrequisite except brains. Well, the thirties were approaching\nfast. Lovers were fewer than they had been and no choice\nhad been made. The only apparently perfect man on my\nhorizont was already married. Recklessly I made a vow. \"I\nshall marry the first man who proposes to me/' A week\nafterwards I met him. Two weeks afterwards our wedding\nday was fixed. It was,, in all sincerity, the happiest day of\nmy life. In the marriage lottery I drew a lucky number.\nAnd yet, Mr. Bruno, although I am very happy woman I do\nnot believe in the institution of marrioge. There, what do\nyou think of that?"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-09-09-01-c028", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01#c028", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "979", "page_fin": "979", "image_debut": 13, "image_fin": 13, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.2.19", "titre_corps": "High Ideals.", "titre_sommaire": "High Ideals.", "signature_source": "X.Y. (Alabama", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 13, "page_imprimee": "979", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.13", "debut_caractere": 1910, "fin_caractere_exclue": 3631, "texte": "High Ideals.\nX.Y. (Alabama)\nA beautiful moonlight evening in August, a chance meeting\nwith an aubun-haierd girl to be followed by many other\nmeetings, the/ most blissful and happy hours of all my\nexistence, these hours filled with pleadings, yes, and with\ntears, in which I begged that she become my wife.\nSuch was our courtship, for I became an impetueous wooer\nfrom the first and would never accept a \"no\" as final.\nEight months of separation, during which I pleaded daily\nby letter, to be finally rewarded in person.\nEach poor and working for our daily bread, but happy to-\ngether when opportunity afforded, and the world old, happy,\nblissful feeling, that we could not be content alone.\nSpending my last dollar in a long distance call from\nChicago to Cleveland, just to hear her voice. Longing for a\nplace to call home, even though we knew it could never be\nanything but the plainest, but where love might rule.\nShe in her \"best\" suit, I in my \"black,\" a short walk to\nthe priests home accompanied by her sister and a close friend\nof mine where a simple ceremony united us, \"till death do us\npart,\" to be \"her husband\" and \"my wife,\" the happiest\nstate in existence.\nA street car to town, wedding dinner at the Tip Top Inn,\ntickets for Forty-Five Minutes from Broadway and \"home\"\nto light-housekeeping rooms which we together had previously\nengaged. : , ,\nBecause we sincerely loved each the other, secure in that\nknowledge, neither wishing for display or show, content with\nlittle, knowing that the evil called divorce could never cast\nits shadow over us, wishing to,bear children to bind us more\nclosely—which our three healtny boys have done—this is our\nanswer to your question of, \"Why and How We Were Mar-\nried.\""}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-09-09-01-c029", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01#c029", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "979", "page_fin": "979", "image_debut": 13, "image_fin": 13, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.2.20", "titre_corps": "The Romance in a freight elevator.", "titre_sommaire": "The Romance in a freight elevator.", "signature_source": "L. G", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 13, "page_imprimee": "979", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.13", "debut_caractere": 3633, "fin_caractere_exclue": 4729, "texte": "The Romance in a freight elevator.\nL.G.\nABOUT April 1912, I secured a position as frieght elevator\nrunner in an uptown building.\nAfter working about an hour at my new position, the bell\nrang from the fourth floor. When I opened up the doors, a\nyoung lady appeared standing there. She seemed all out of\nplace between those dirty cases and general disorder.\nIn a business-like voice she said to me, \"Boy, get me two-\nsandwiches.\"\nI was on the point of refusing this unpolite command but:\nafter looking at her face I perceived a more pleasant and\nappealing disposition than the voice indicated.\nDuring the remainder of the day, I couldn't help but think\nof the girl on the fourth floor. I made it my business to have\nsome excuses to bring me up\" on the fourth floor and it\nseemed the girl there always had something for me to do.\nOne day, I asked her company to an affair. She accepted\nthe invitation, and we arrived home late in the evening. At\nher house, I declared my love for her and she accepted me.\nWe were married in April 1915, just three years after I\ngot my position as an elevator runner."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-09-09-01-c030", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01#c030", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "979", "page_fin": "979", "image_debut": 13, "image_fin": 13, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.2.21", "titre_corps": "She proposed.", "titre_sommaire": "She proposed.", "signature_source": "M.F. (Detroit", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 13, "page_imprimee": "979", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.13", "debut_caractere": 4731, "fin_caractere_exclue": 6275, "texte": "She proposed.\nM.F. (Detroit)\nTHE story of my love and marriage is a refreshing oasis\nin the desert of divorce.\nMy brother brought Neal to our home. His friendship with\nbrother grew and soon included the entire family. I liked\nhim, and thought no more of it.\nIt sounds maudlin, but a dream made me realize my love..\nThe memory of that wonderful dream moment haunted me in\nwaking hours and forced me to picture Neal as my lover\nwhen next we met. And then I knew!\nI analyzed my love carefully; we were congenial, I\nrespected him, admired him and was not without a wholesome\npassion. I knew I should want my boy to be his duplicate.\nBut be didn't love me—yet.\nI tried to awaken an answering need in his heart, for I\nknew I could make him ideally happy. My brother happened\nto mention one day that Neal had been engaged to a mer-\ncenary girl who discovered his financial status. He had lost\nhis faith in woman's capacity for love.\nSo I did the hardest thing a woman can do in proof of her\nlove—i Went to him and told him all I felt for him. Why\nshould one be ashamed to speak of the best thing in his life?\nNeal understood, and loved me, loved me big His\nfaith was renewed and he appreciated me the more for his;\nunhappy experience. As a final test, I believe, he insisted\non an elopement; his marriage was too sacred to be shared\nwith an unsympathetic, critical gathering.\nThe beauty of my life with Neal grows with time we've\nhad two wonderful years, for our union was founded on\nmutual understanding, real love and youth—l'm only twenty-\none now!"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-09-09-01-c031", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01#c031", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "980", "page_fin": "980", "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=bmtnaaq19160909-01.2.22", "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": 14, "page_imprimee": "980", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.14", "debut_caractere": 378, "fin_caractere_exclue": 473, "texte": "THE GARRET SHOP\nODD BOOKS\nPAMPHLETS\nDROWING, PAINTINGS\nFramed and Unframed\n58 Washington Square"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-09-09-01-c032", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01#c032", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "980", "page_fin": "980", "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=bmtnaaq19160909-01.2.23", "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": 14, "page_imprimee": "980", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.14", "debut_caractere": 475, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1125, "texte": "TO YOU, GENTLE READER\nKindly give your standing order for Bruno's\n\"Weekly to your newsdealer, if you do not\nwish to send us directly a subscription. The\npresent paper prices are such that it provqf\ndisastrous for a magazine to print more\ncopies than are needed for its regular sub-\nscription circulation and for a supply of\nunreturnable orders of news companies and\nmagazine agencies.\nAlso we cannot supply you with back num-\nbers which you have missed on the news-\nstands.\nTherefore, if you like the contents of\nBruno's Weekly, release your clutches from\na two-dollar bill and send in your check\nto-day or give a standing order to your news-\ndealer."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-09-09-01-c033", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01#c033", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "980", "page_fin": "980", "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=bmtnaaq19160909-01.2.24", "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": 14, "page_imprimee": "980", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.14", "debut_caractere": 1127, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2252, "texte": "Readers of Bruno* s Weekly are asked to Become Subscribers\n52 Issues, Two Dollars\nSEND YOUR CHEQUE TO-DAY\n58 WASHINGTON SQUARE, NEW YORK CITY\nROSSI BROTHERS\n58 Washington Square\nUnderneath the Garret\nICE CREAM AND TOBACCO\nFLORENCE GOUGH\nShows Smart Millinery for Grown Ups—Mother\nGoose's Millinery for Children and other unique\nthings to wear.\nTHE PAINT BOX\n150 W. 4th St., Near 6th Ave.\nN. Y. C. Phone Spring 23\nThe Mad Hatter Has a Tea Party Every Afternoon\nrom 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.\"\nc 'Nobody Asked Your Opinion\" Edith Unger.\nI BUY BOOKS\nSingle volumes, small lots, and libraries; autograph letters of known literary men and\nartists, drawings, pictures and engravings. Address\nCOLLECTOR,\" Care of Bruno's Weekly, 58 Washington Square.\ni t\nEdith Haynes Thompson\nHer Shop\n64 WASHINGTON SQUARE SOUTH\nContaining Many Quaint and Beautiful Things\nHours: 1 to 5.30 P. M.\nj. 112. McCarthy\nPaintings and Antiques\n30 West 46th Street"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-09-09-01-c034", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01#c034", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "[981]", "page_fin": "[981]", "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=bmtnaaq19160909-01.2.25", "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": 15, "page_imprimee": "[981]", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.15", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 4598, "texte": "Bruno Chap Books\nNo.\n1. The Harlot's House, by Oscar Wilde\nThe first American reprint of one of the\nmost wonderful poems of the author $\n2. Setting Hens, Frogs' Legs, by D. Molby\nD. Molby, passes the white elephant un-\nremarked, but writes an essay on the mos-\nquito's neck and the rhythm of his little wings\nbefore he stings and annoys\n3. Mushrooms, by Alfred Kreymborg\nMr. Kreymborg's Mushrooms are recognized\npoetry. The Mushroom stands for a simple\nexpression of thought in simple musical\nrhythm. Mr. Kreymborg is one man who\nspeaks to his fellow-men—just to the one who\nmight find in four or six simple lines of\n—rhythm the revelation of the rhythm and the\nharmony of his own simple life\n4. Tahiti, by Robert Carlton Brown\n5. Four Letters, by Oscar Wilde\n6. Anarchists, by Guido Bruno\n7. To My Mother, by Alfred Kreymborg\n8. Vignettes, by Hubert Crackanthorpe\nMr. Crackanthorpe had thre& chief gifts:\nskill in dramatic narration—a sense of sit-\nuation, a lively feeling for the value of inter-\npretation of gesture, posture, circumstance;\nsecondly, analytic skill in the conception and\npresentation of character; thirdly, descriptive\nand pictorial power, readiness of vision, with\na faculty of sifting and selecting its reports.\nLionel Johnson, in Acad., March.2o, 1897....\n9. Tanka and Haika, by Sadakichi Hartmann\nThe son of a German father and a Japa-\nnese mother, of a burgomaster's son from\nMecklenburg, the only European state with-\nout a Constitution, and the daughter of a\nronin, a robing soldier of Old Japan. Sada-\nkichi is much more Japanese than German.\nHis style is extravagant but suave. Some of\nhis short stories are as excessibe and intense\nas Poe's, on strictly realistic and intense as\nPoe's, on strictly realistic lines. The utmost\nbounds of expression are reached, eben his\noriginality is aggressive\n10. Richard Wagner, the Egoist, by Guido Bruno\n11. Edna the Girl of the Street, by Guido Bruno\nCause: our social conditions.\nMotibe: just to live.\nProblem: eternal.\nSolution: none.\n12. Songs of the Cosmos, by Charles Keeler\nLike the weaver of wonderful brocades, he\nselected thread after thread and up loomed\nthose wonderful pictures before my eyes,\ncreations of simple words, dipped in red blood,\ntinted by the golden sun, formed and shaped\nby hands who know the labors and pains of\nmillions scented with good-will towards every-\nbody and emitted with pure love\nNo.\n13.\n.25 14.\n15.\n.25\n.50\nTeaspoons and Violet Leaves, by Guido Bruno\n16.\n.50\n.25\n.25 > 17,\n.25\n.25\n18.\n19.\n.25\n.25 20.\n.25\n21.\n.25 22\n23\n24.\n25.\n.25 26.\n.25\n.25\n1.00\nThe Tragedy in the Birdhouse, by Guido Bruno\n.50\nExotics, by John W. Draper\nIt law a luscious yellow band\nCreaming upon umbrageous green\nThe spray was satin to the hand;\nAnd to the eye a topaz bright,\nAnd dazzling as the noonday sand.\nFrom\"The Yellow Orchid\"\nImagists, by Richard Aldington\nOne of the original group of the English\nImagists tells about Imagism and its aims.\nThis paper deals a severe blow to all imita-\ntors and producers of vers libre who think\nthemselves poets of the \"new group\" because\nthey don't write in rhyme '.\nLord Alfred Douglas Salome: A Critique,\nthe Beauty of Unpunctuality: an Essay and\nThree Poems\nThere was a time when Lord Alfred Douglas\nwould have laughed at the idea that he would\nwrite a book explaining away his friendship\nwith Oscar Wilde. As editor of \"The Spirit\nLamp,\" a magazine published by James\nThornton, High Street, Oxford, and edited by\nLord Alfred Douglas, he seemed to be a\ndiligent imitator of his friend Oscar. He\nimitated his style in prose and in poetry.\nWhenever he received a contribution from\nOscar Wilde it was the main and leading\nfeature of the issue\nSadakichi Hartmann—Permanent Peace: Is it\na Dream ?\nCharles Kains-Jackson—John Addington Symonds\nA Portrait\nThe life-long friend of the English poet\ngives a vivid picture of the personality and\nlife and life-work of Symonds. This essay\nwritten a few days after the death of Sy-\nmonds, on the 19th of April, 1893, and was\nfirst published in the Quarto, a since forgotten\nliterary periodical of England, in 1897\nDjuna Barnes—The Book of Repulsive Wo-\nmen—Rythms and 5 Drawings\nEdna W. Underwood The Book of the White\nPeacocks • • • » • «'25\nH. Thompson Rich—Lumps of Clay—l 6 Rhythms\n.25\nD. Molby—Hippopotamus Tails—2B Every-day\nMusings • i25\nH. Thompson Rich—The Red Shame—-17 War\nPoems . . , , , 9 « 4.25\nTheodor Schroeder, Erothogenesis of Religion,\na bibliography :50\nSadakichi Hartmann, My Rubayat , 50\n.25\n.25\n:25\nAccompany each order with Cheque, small amounts, one-cent stamps\nBRUNO'S WEEKLY\n58 WASHINGTON SQUARE, N. Y. C.\nX"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-09-09-01-c035", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01#c035", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "[982]", "page_fin": "[982]", "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=bmtnaaq19160909-01.2.26", "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": 16, "page_imprimee": "[982]", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.16", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 971, "texte": "RARE BOOKS FIRST EDITION\nExtra Illustrated Books. Early Printed Books. Association Books. Books Cor Christmas ; Gifts.\nPurchased singly or in sets for people who have neither time nor\" opportunity to select for themselves,\n«\nor for those' Who have not access to the best book marts. Why not begin collecting now?\nAddress, E. V. Boston Transcript, Boston, Mass.\n' / . ' i ; r \\ ,Y-\n-——m—mut—— hi ■ iw iiiwhmb——b—wa——b——a—bmi «■ i ■■\nBeing a book\nIN WHICH\n• ' * '' \" / 112\nwe say just what we think. Published every month by Norman-Bel Geddes at 171 Wilson Avenue in\nDetroit, Michigan. It is a little book uniquely illustrated. Write for sample copy.\nHOTEL BREVOORT GAFE LAFAYETTE\nFifth Avenue University Place\nRAYMOND ORTEIG, INC. / •\nThe Two French Hotels and Restaurants of New York.\ni . X \\ j.'.\nGONFARONE'S\n40 West Bth Street\nTABLE D'HOTE\n\"Eating places are literary landmarks\" said 0. Henry, speaking of Gonfarone's in one of his\nunexcelled Greenwich Village Stories."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-09-09-01-c036", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01#c036", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-09-09_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "[982]", "page_fin": "[982]", "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=bmtnaaq19160909-01.2.27", "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": 16, "page_imprimee": "[982]", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.16", "debut_caractere": 973, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1373, "texte": "There can be no pleasanter place to hear that remarkable\nEdison Record Number (82536) than /\nTHE DIAMOND DISC SHOP\nAt Number 10 Fifth Avenue\nIn this store, at least, the delightful atmosphere of Old Greenwich Village has not been sacrificed\non the altar of commercialism v\nPhone: Stuyvesant 4570 A postal will bring you, with our compliments,\nan interesting little biography of Mr. Thos. A.\n\\ Edison."}]}], "pages_ocr_originales": [{"page_pdf": 1, "page_imprimee": "couv. 1", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.1", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n100 Dollars for the Story of Your Marriage-(A contest for married people)\n♦\nEDITED BY GUIDO BRUNO IN HIS GARRET ON\nWASHINGTON SQUARE\nFive Cents September 9th, 1916\n\nLEONHARD ST JOHN\n\nThe contents include:\nA Scarlet Letter for the Fallen Man\nThree Dollars And Sixty Cents\nFifth Aventie\nSplitting the Ears of the Groundlings\nTwo People—The Romance of One Night"}, {"page_pdf": 2, "page_imprimee": "[968]", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.2", "texte": "Copyright by Guido Bruno, September 9th, 1916. Original\nmatter, including all drawings, may not be reproduced with-\nout permission of Guido Brun; but that permission may be\nassumed if credit is given to author and Bruno's Weekly.\nOne Hundred Dollars for the\nStory of Your Marriage\n■ ' • ' 34 i : ' / ' ' •\n-', ' :1W • '* • y \" - -.A > .112 ' :;\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.\n' ' Y, / ' • •V' ':V . V V ' 0'\nWrite down your story just as simply as it happened. We shall not\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,\n11 , ■' ' ■ \\\n58 Washington Square, New York City.\n• % ■- \\ . T , ? '8*\nEvery week those stories which are printed will be paid for at space rates.\nThe contest will close on October Ist, 1916, and the stories should be lim-\nited to three hundred words.\n♦\nSEND YOUR STORY TO-DAY"}, {"page_pdf": 3, "page_imprimee": "[969]", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.3", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\nEdited by Guido Bruno in His Garret on Washington Square\nNo. 13\nSEPTEMBER 9th, MCMXVI\nVol. 11l\nCopyright 1916 by Guido Bruno.\n\nWe of the City\nClement Yore\nIt is chill and wet and the sun has set\nBehind the sullen city,\nIt is cold and damp where the dim street lamp\nLooks on with barren pity—\nOh! the laughs that mock and shock and block\nThe very souls that melty\nMid the snarling sneers and jeers and tears\nWhich in the air are felt.\nIt is man and stoney red flesh and bone\nt\" Raised but tossatisfyyy\nIt is lustful fire exposed for hire\nWhich seems to carnify.\nOh! the brains that leap and steep and sleep\nIn the lust and vice and shamey\n3Tis the awesome thrill that kills and stills\nAnd defiles with Passion's flame.\n*\nWhat is name or birth or singular worth,\nWhat is Honory Truth or Pridey\nWhat matters it all when at last we fall\nStripped to our wantoned hide?\nOh! the pinky pink arms and swarms of charms\nHidden to tease and lurey\nOh! the calling eyes with cries and sighs\nWho cares if they're impure?\nIt is gold and wealth and a little of healthy\nTo enable us better to plunge\nInto the shame of race not with a blame face\nQuickly our past to expunge—\ncTis the constant sip of lips that drip\nThat washes our soulsaawayyy\nBut the souls come back all black to rack\nWhen we have had our day.\n\nA Scarlet Letter for the Fallen Man!\nA propos the vigorous efforts of the N. Y. Police and of\nprivate individuals to disband the alleged vice ring\nAND still we have her with us.\nShe is not gone—the miserable being, vilified as\nthe lowest of her sex; the harlot, who tramples her\nwomanhood beneath costly, booted feet; the prostitute,\nsociety's most mournful figure; the street-walker, who\nfeigns with frigid, money-hungry heart the transports\nof love and offers herself as the supine machine of lust;\nthe strumpet, scorned as the most degraded of her kind\nand doomed to disease and wretchedness ; the courtesan,\nwho is thought of with an indignant shudder and whose\nname is a shame to speak; the cyprian, who is shunned\non the avenue as a leper by the same man whom she\nattracted the night before in her paint and gaudy\nplumage.\nAnd here she stands, this modem Magdalen, the\nsupreme personification of vice!\nWhat will you do with her?\nWill you ponder longer the silly, sociological screets\nconjured forth from asinine researches of dydactic\nduffers, wrestling with the seventh commandment? Will\nyou await a \"few hundred more of the suggestions of\nthese for eliminating this priestess of humanity, who\nfor ages has stood blasted for the sins of her unchasted\nfellow creatures? Will you hearken longer to the pip-\nings of reformers who shout their sermons of segrega-\ntion? Will you continue to drive her into a corner, then\ninto the confines of a quarter, then urge her to shift her\nstatus again, somewhere else where she may turn neither\nto the right nor to the left? Will you force her to over-\nflow her cup of segregation and spread herself, a circular\ncataract of viciousness, into your residence districts,\nwhere your wives dwell and your children play?\nOr will you \"drown her like a rat!\" ?\nWe have experimented long enough to know that the\nreformation of the so-called \"fallen woman\" and the\nsolution of the \"tenderloin\" problem are not as simple\nas lacing a boot. We know that in the attempt to succeed\nin these we are seeking to outrival Hercules. For,\nindeed, what, specifically, has been accomplished by\nreform organizations, charity clubs, ponderous legis-\nlation and relief societies? How much: progress has\nbeen made toward the ultimate solution of the problem\nby the crusades galore, which have been launched and\nexploited?\nIs it not possible that the reformers sincere or notorr\niety thirsting, and the legislators, corrupt or honest, may\nhave been shooting their ammunition from the wroijg\nshoulder?\nWhat attention, by the way, has been paid to the\n\"fallen man\"in the social equation?\nThe knowing gentlemen- and trouser-wishing woman-\nreformers seem to have overlooked the fact that the man\nin society might perhaps be an important factor in the\npremise of their problem. So much has he been for-\ngotten, in fact, that the word \"fallen\" is now generally\naccepted only to bear pertinence to the demeaned, child-\nbearing sex. Let the masculine contingent of society be\never so degraded, depraved, rotten and morally disinte-\ngrated, he is not referred to as a \"fallen man.\"\nPossibly, being a man, the argument is that he is\nblocked from falling lower.\nBut the truth remains, that were there no men in this\nworld, there would be no prostitutes, no bawdy houses\nand no brothels. It is a simply cause and effect equation.\nInstead, then, of \"drowning them like rats,\"—instead\nof herding them into geographical realms of rottenness,\nwhich stand as barbaric blotches between the spasmodic\nravages of reformers, why not pay a little attention\nto the masculine element in the problem? What, in-\ndeed, would be wrong with a solution which would\ndemand of society the branding of the male, when he"}, {"page_pdf": 4, "page_imprimee": "970", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.4", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\ndescends to the level of the lust-shop creature, with\nthe same stigma of its contempt as is accorded his\nfallen sister? What would be the of an\ninnovation which would ostracise from polite society\nevery immoral man with the same expedition with\nwhi£h the woman wins the social frown?\nThen of how many male members could modern so-\nciety boast? How many moral-certificate gentlemen\nwould remain, when once the false-faced, pseudo-civi-\nlized lie of the double moral standard was shufflled into\nthe ethical scrap heap? How many unlicenced libertines\nand notorious roues would be unveiled, when the decep-\ntive veneer and hypocritical mask was jerked from the\ncountenance of secret moral derelicts?\nWhere would lie the injustice if an experiment were\nmade to place some of the blame for present-day moral\nputrecence upon the other sex? Does the woman in\nthe brothel and demirep domicile deserve all the stigma\nof social contempt? Who put her there? Did she\nconceive the inclination toward moral turpitude and\nfeminine depravity when she was alone in her child-\nhood home with her mother?\nThere is only one answer.\nThen why not a movement with the immoral male-\nbranding scheme for its basis? Why not a Scarlet\nLetter for every, man who contributes to the evil ?\nWhy a double standard with immunity for the stronger\nof the two offenders?\nOr is man so irretrievably rotten in his soul that the\nworld has decided to put up with him as a necessary\nevil? Possibly the reformer will reply that the modern\ncivilisation is so set in her ways that to adopt a\nScarlet Letter label for every \"weak brother,\"—for\nevery \"fallen man\"—would mean that women would\nhave nothing to do with the moral-certificate remnant;\nthat they might suspect that there was something ab-\nnormal about his physiological mechanism or that his\nintellect needed a mental pulmotor. F* E.\n\nThree Dollars and Sixty Cents\nBy Guido Bruno\nTHE air was crisp and biting cold. Every breath\nformed a misty cloud of vapor. The newly fallen\nsnow crunched musically at each step. The sky above\nwas a dome of dark blue—clear and boundless. Two\nor three stars twinkled far apart. Trees along the\navenue hung their branches heavy and specter-like in\nthe bridal attire of winter.\nEveryone enjoyed the first, real, winter evening.\nHe too was peaceful and satisfied as he strolled along\nthe avenue. It was one of Nature's novelties, he\nthought, loved by all because of its newness.\nHe turned to cross the street. Some carriages were\npassing, carrying women, cloaked for the first time in\ntheir heavy winter furs. He waited while they passed.\nSomeone touched him gently upon the arm. It was\na young girl, poorly but prettily dressed, perhaps she\ndesired his assistance in crossing the street,l he thought\nat first. He raised his hat to her.\n\"Will you take me with you please?\" the girl asked.\nHe turned to her, surprised at the request, but more\nastonished at the seriously sad yet happily expectant\neyes that gazed up at him.\n\"Take you with me?\" he repeated hesitatingly. \"I\ndon't quite understand what you mean/' he added in an\napologetic tone.\n\"Take me anywhere you'd like to,\" she said, flushing,\nher eyes evading his gaze.\nAn understanding began to dawn upon him.\n\"I live only a short distance from here,\" he returned.\n\"If you wish to come with me I have a few paintings and\nsome bric-a-brac, which I think you'd like to see.\"\nSo together they went to his apartments. On the way\nhe made several attempts at conversation but won no\nresponse from the girl.\nHe stopped at the door and drew out his latch-key.\nThe girl interrupted him.\n\"Now will you please give me three dollars and sixty\ncents if I go in here with you?\" she said timorously, as\nshe gazed up at him.\n\"Certainly, certainly,\" he replied, surprised again and\nlooking curiously at her as he stepped aside to admit her\ninto the vestibule.\nIn his apartments she removed her hat and g&zed\nanxiously about her.\n\"Do you like my paintings?\" he asked.\n\"Yes sir, I do,\" she answered, looking blankly about\nthe room, as though only little interested in what she\nsaw.\nHe could not explain the girl's peculiar actions. Her\nqueer conduct was so different.\nBut she was beautiful, healthy and young.\nAnd he was a man.\nShe had refused the gold piece, which he had offered\nher and insisted upon receiving only three dollars and\nsixty cents. This he had counted out for her.\nAll the happenings of the evening had been extra-\nordinary. He was in a quandary. He opened his win-\ndow just in time to hear the door below creak and see\nher tripping down steps and out onto the snowy\nwalk. The slender girlish tform was hurrying along,\nchildlike and innocent—just as innocent as she really\nwas when she had entered the house a short time be-\nfore.\nHe was curious. He wanted to know more about\nthis girl. Why had she acted so differently? Who was\nshe wd where had she gone? An impulse seized him.\nHe dashed downstairs, took his overcoat and hat and\nran out into the street after the figure vanishing in the\ndarkness.\nHe spied her nearly a block and half away. He fol-\nlowed. She turned a corner and turned again, with him\nin pursuit. He found himself in a peculiar neighbor-\nhood, which he had never before seen.\nFinally he saw her enter a dimly lighted drugstore.\nHe stood and waited.\nHe was surprised to find such a neighborhood so close\nto his apartments. There were tall tenement buildings\nwith little, dingy rooms and ragged, dirty curtains at the\nwindows. The drugstore was one of the old fashioned\nstores in the poorer districts, where modern things had\nnot made their mark. Flickering gas lights burned\nbehind two small, and red globes in the window.\nAn old stove stood near the door and the glass in two of\nthe show cases was broken."}, {"page_pdf": 5, "page_imprimee": "971", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.5", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nShe remained in the store only a short time. When\nshe reappeared she hurried along again. He followed\nonce more but lost the girl. She must have slipped into\none of the buildings.\nHe entered the stqre and addressed the greasy\nproprietor behind the prescription counter.\n\"Pardon me, sir, but do you know the girl who was\njust here?\"\nThe man thought for a moment.\n\"A girl? Let me see>\" he said. \"Oh yes, the little\ngirl who was just here? Why, I think she lives in the\nneighborhood somewhere close by. You know how they\nare here in the tenement district. They think the drug-\ngist, the physician and the undertaker are charitable\ninstitutions. They buy very little and only when they\nare in need. Then they come to me and ask me to trust\nthem for medicine. Why should I? If I do, they don't\ncome back with the money.\n\"Now take this girl for instance. She was here this\nmorning and brought a prescription. It was for her\nmother, who is sick. It was an expensive prescription—\nthree dollars and sixty cents. She wanted me to trust\nher. 1 refused. She left the prescription and promised\nto call for the medicine to-night. These people always\nfind a way to get a little money when the need is vital.\nI told her she could get it if she only tried.\"\n\nCabaret\nVincent Starrett\nTANGO is the dance for me,\"\nPlayed the fiddlers merrily;\nAnd gliding dancers spun\nBack and forth in furious fun;\nBent and swayed in carnal glee—\n\"Tango is the dance for me!\"\nUp and down the crooked aisles,\nWhirling, go the latest styles;\n'Round and through, between the tables.\nGuests have laid aside their sables;\nLifted high their foreign silks—\nBrains afire with foreign milks.\nMen in somber evening wear\nDrunkenly essayed the\nShort and tall and thin and fat,\nCapering with bawd and brat.\nSqueeze your partner—mad embrace—\nChampagne breath on powdered face.\nCame a maiden to the stage-—\n(Maiden, said I?) Guess her age!\nTwenty-seven ? Thirty-two ?\nMight be either—either'll do.\nSang a song about the woods—\nGirl and fellow—\"Damaged Goods.\"\nShrieked the diners in their glee:\n\"Tango is the dance for me!\"\n\"N'other bottle .... Make it two . . .\nKeep the shange, George; thash for you.\"\nCrash of cymbals—whoop-de-dee!\n\"Tango is the dance for me!\"\n'Round and 'round and 'round and 'round;\nTomorrow we'll be under ground—\n\"Devil's subway\"—good joke, what?\nClose at one? Yes, we do not!\nCall your cab at two or three—\n\"Drive shlow, cabby .... Who'sh to shee!\"\n** * 0\nSome time when the going's high\nAnd I don't care how I die—\nThey will kill me, sure, for cause—\nJust to give that party pause,\nI shall rise and sing out free:\n\"Professor! Play The Rosary'!\"\n\nNocturne\nOmaha (Nebraska)\nTHE silvery, sleepy twilight-notes of birds,\nA low wind stirring in the murmurous pines,\nPeace in the drowsy fields and under all\nThe mighty diapason of the sea."}, {"page_pdf": 6, "page_imprimee": "972", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.6", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nFifth Avenue\nBy Guido Bruno\n\nTWO lon§ rows of light. White glowing bulbs. Two\nand two. In distances that seem shorter and\nshorter. Two long lines that meet somewhere—far, far\naway in the indefinite. Two long rows up Fifth avenue\nleading to the indefinite. Two long rows down Fifth\navenue, leading to the indefinite.\nBrilliant signs—huge, green, red and yellow, here and\nthere, west of Fifth avenue and east of Fifth avenue.\nMillions are happy and full of joy; gay and living\nliving.\nMillions are wretched and miserable: starving . . .\nstarving.\nThe doors of the houses are closed, the window shades\nare drawn. Business buildings are taking a refreshing\nnap.\nMillions are suffering behind closed house-doors, mil-\nlions ai*e comfortably content, and millions are happy\nbehind the drawn window shades.\nAutos, trucks, carriages and buses move mp and down\nFifth avenue. Towards their destination. Pedestrians\nwalk and talk, laugh and are silent, are worried and\nbrooding. Policemen patrol their corners. They look\nup and down Fifth avenue, that the lights might glow\non the sidewalks and the vehicles might pass to and fro\nin their roadways.\nBut heart, dear little heart, why do you beat against\nmy breast? Why do you send your waves of unrest and\nof love through the body up to the brain and back\nto eyes, ears, finger tips and mouth?\nDear little heart, don't you see the policeman who\noversees the long rows of glowing bulbs that meet no-\nwhere and who commands vehicles to stop and pedesp\ntrians to move on?\nYou see the stars, my poor little neglected friend?\nYou see the moon and the white clouds passing forth\nand back? You see the electric-lighted cross that locks\nthe huge church doors preventing HIM to enter as once\nupon a time it meant the goal of his life .... jtist to\nthere and no farther?\nThe Enormous Street Sign\nPICTURES of the passion way upon which millions\nwalk and bleed. - - - Silvers Selects Chalmers.\nBudweiser. . . The Passing Show of 1916. . . Bene-\ndictine. . . Shows. . . Cabarets. . . Cigarettes. . . Danc-\ning. . .\nMoney, money, money.\nThe Painted Girl of the Street\nSOMEONE once opened her eyes. Someone once\ntold her it was all right. Life had its place for\nher. . . The woman at home that trusts you. . . The\npainted girl too was a mother's baby. . .\nMoney, money, money.\nThe Family Scene on the Street\nTHE restaurant entrance. The starter tips his hat,\nthe hat boy tips his hat, the chaffeur tips his hat.\nShe gaudeously-dressed, smiling. He smartly dressed,\nsmiling. Diamonds, good food, good drinks, a nice home\nwaiting. . .\nMoney, money, money.\nThe Bench on Madison Square\nSLOWLY wear away the hours of the night. The big\ntower clock strikes the time heavily. He looks to\nthe left. He looks to the right. He is grateful. . . no\npoliceman is in sight. He thinks of what was. He\nthinks of what could be. He forgets what is. He hopes\nfor what might be. It is cold. It is dirty . . .\nalone, alone. . .\nMoney, money, money!\nThe Preacher on the Cornor of Twenty-Fourth Street\nknow notf: what may happen tomorrow. All\n1 of you are well-fed. You have had your gay\nevening. Here these poor wretches walk at the streets\nfrom morning till now. Fifteen cents will buy them a\nbed. It will give them new courage. I won't tell\nyou about the mercy Christ preached. I won't ex-\nplain to you the meaning of neighborly love: but to-\nmorrow, or some day after tomorrow, you may be here\nin this very line. Thertfore, give your share today.\"\nMoney, money, money.\n•».. . • fcii ' 1\nThe Hand-Out Man\n\"Y°U not know quite sure whether I really do\n1 not want that nickel for a bed or for a cup of\ncoffee. Maybe you are mistaken, but you cannot know\nwhether I will buy a glass of beer. And if I do?\nThe nickle is lost to you anyhow, and the saloon is about\nthe only place where I can purchase equality with the\nrailroad magnate for just your nickel.,,\nMoney, money, money.\nThe Woman on the Bench in Union Square Reserved for\nWomen\nTHE star of hope. It has shone for me all my life.\nSomehow I cannot even now discard it from my\nthoughts. I was mother. I have sinned against the\nlaws of man. But I was mother .... a little funds would\nenable me to take my things out of pawn. Where could\nmy son find me? And he may be looking for me this\nvery night.\nMoney, money, money.\nMILLIONS are happy in their beds. Millions are\nwretched in their beds. Millions are on their\nway to regrets and to unhappiness. Millions are wounded\nand sick. Millions are killing and stealing. Wronging\nother millions.\nSome are starving, some have plenty.\nAll need things and all deny things to others. All\nwant money. . .\nAnd they are starving for love.\nAll have hearts and they do not dare to listen to their\nown heart throbs.\nThey look for money and want to buy love.\nLove gives love and money.\nTwo long rows of gleaming light; up Fifth avenue\nleading to the indefinite; down Fifth avenue leading to\nthe indefinite.\nAnd hearts and stars. . ."}, {"page_pdf": 7, "page_imprimee": "973", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.7", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nDRAWING by DJUNA BARNES\n\nGreenwich Village Attacked\nONE of Mr. Munsey's Sunday paper bards used last\nweek the space of his supposedly humorous page\nto a coleric attack upon Greenwich Village in general,\nand its restaurants, its girls, and its garret in especial.\nIt is the attempted Bohemianism that got his goat. He\ndisplayed his knowledge of Henri Murger and he honored\nme by comparing my garret to Murger's garret. And he\nfound from a careful examination of both garrets that\nthe one in which Murger lived had literary value, be-\ncause there was no bath-tub and Murger had no money\nto live anywhere else. And therefore he handed the\nlaurels of \"true Bohemianism\" to Henri.\nIf a man is once forty-five with a neat little bald spot\nsurrounded by a thin growth of silver threads, if one\nwears spectacles on black strings and if one has been\na Forty-second street Bohemian for the last fifteen\nyears, known and hailed by all the \"girlies\" of that\nsection, one acquires a good portion of vanity. And\nthere is no severer sting for one's vanity than to remain\nunnoticed in restaurants and cafes which appeal so very\nmuch to one's \"taste for Bohemianism.\" Especially if\none has been for fifteen years a Forty-second street\nBohemian and if one arrives in Greenwich Village with\na heart filled to the brim with \"Bohemianism\"\nBohekiianism? What a blooming fool must a man be\nwho even thinks of the possibility of a Bohemia in New\nYork. And doesn't he know that the same second one\nis conscious of being a Bohemian one also becomes an\nimpostor.\nThis man doesn't know more about Murger than about\nGreenwich Village and the Garret.\nThere never was an air of Bohemianism about the\nGarret. At the time that I came to Greenwich Village\ntwo years and a half ago. after an absence of about six\nyears, we had no fancy shops here and no Bohemian\nplaces of the purple and orange brand. _\nMr. Coady had just opened his Washington Square\nGalleries and was doing his best to introduce to the\nexhibitors on Fifth avenue and to the public at large the\nnew French art, which since has become the vogue of\nour art connoisseurs. I started my little magazine,\n\"Greenwich Village\" in a little 2x2 hall room in number\n42, that famous house where Jenny Lind had lived and\nmany others since famous in art und letters. It was a\nreal garret and I surely didn't live there because I\nwouldn't have preferred to live in another more com-\nfortable place. \"Here is my magazine,\" I said, \"and\nwhoever has anything to say is welcome to use its\npages.\" And they came and used them. Many authors\nwhose names are found to-day on the tables of contents\nof national magazines and on the lists of publishers\nfound here their first chance to have their say. And\nthen one day the present garret—they called it garret, I\ndidn't christen it—was available and I rented it, I had\nplenty of wall space and therefore I said, \"If you have\ndrawings or paintings which you wish to show to the\nworld or at least to the world that cares to look at them\nhang them on my walls, everybody will be welcome to\nview them.\" And so they did. I have had fourteen ex-\nhibitions in the Garret during the last season. None of\nthe exhibitors had put their works of art on exhibition\nbefore. Twelve have made their way since and you meet\nto-day their drawings in your magazines and their paint-\nings in the uptown galleries.\nWhere is there any attempt at Bohemianism?\nI like business and I like art, but I think there is noth-\ning more pitiable than a business man who attempts to\nbe an artist or an aritst who attempts to be a business\nman. And there is nothing more loathsome than a\nbusiness man who professes to be an artist in order to do\nbusiness. And there is none more unsuccessful and\nbound to come jto grief than the artist who proclaims."}, {"page_pdf": 8, "page_imprimee": "974", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.8", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nhimself a business man in order to be able to follow his\nart\nTo create a place of business in order to gather\nliterateurs and artists is possible only in one instance:\nif this place of business be an eating-place where liquors\nare served if one desires such. Genius can never unite\nin unions under the protection of the Federation of\nLabor. Genius gives and takes freely, without con-\nsideration of values. Barter and exchange in the\ninterest of art and of literature is disasteful to genius.\nTherefore, a Henri Murget would have become a daring\nWall Street speculator, had he been in America, or he\nwould have spent two-thirds of his life as a vagrant on\nBlackwell's Island. A genius in America translates his\npoetry into bridge-building, his romanticism into the\ncotton exchange and his imagination into Wall Street.\nThe dreamers of prose pastels await on park benches\nthe sunrise of their days and many find a rest in jails and\nother charitable institutions before they are laid away\nin Potter's Field.\nGood artisans possess the technique, the ability of\nconcentration, and the endurance which make the man\nof genius an immortal artist. But an artisan if not a\nman of genius exercises self-deception if he believes\nhimself an artist.\nOur magazines, our newspapers, our art dealers are\nin sore need of good craftsmen and of skilled artisans.\nThey have no use for artists.. Their supreme endeavor\nis to kill originality. To tone down genius to the standard\nof mediocrity, aspired to by many thousands as the\nsupreme achievement of their earthly travels.\nGenius needs a discoverer who acts as the mediator\nbetween art and thejnasses. Such a discoverer must be\na critic. A critic must be a creator. Only a creator can dis-\ncriminate between the beautiful and the ugly. The med-\niator between art and the masses must not be the ex-\nploiter of a rich vocabulary but the man with the firm look\nand the firm hand. He must have the singular courage to\nsay: \"This is a beautiful painting,\" and if he is a creator\nhe will know how to defend his opinion by unshakeable\nstatements of truth. He will be able to point out the\nbeauties of a work of literature in simple words wtfich\nwill find an appeal in the hearts of every one of us, of\nus, who constitute the masses.\nCommercial values are no values to the critic of\nobjects of art. As long as the critic has to pass the\nadvertising department on his way to the composition\nroom he will never reach his destination.\n\nA New Song of Solomon\nTom Sleeper\n\nrHY voice is like the wind in the cedars\nOh my love.\nAnd thine eyes shine like opals, wet with the dew of deep\nsummer.\nThy breath is as the perfume of the lilies nodding in the\nstill pool\nOh my Love, my only Love.\nThy heart is a lone fire burning in the wilderness—\nOh my Love.\nIt exalteth my soul with warmth\nIn theHwilight of the murmuring evening\n• ( *\nAnd thy hair is more beautiful than the\nDarkness enwrapping the wan stars\nOh my Love, my ortfly Love."}, {"page_pdf": 9, "page_imprimee": "975", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.9", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nFOUR DRAWINGS by F. COULTON WAUGH"}, {"page_pdf": 10, "page_imprimee": "976", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.10", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nSplitting the Ears of the Groundlings\nTHE winter of displeasure for the New York theatrical\ncritic begins nowadays in the later part of July.\nTheatres are multiplying ad infinitum and managers are\nalways building new ones. They have to; they have to\nproduce their shows in New York, they have to arrange\na New York appearance before they s«nd them on the\nroad. Roma locuta est. The New York critic is called\nupon to render a supreme verdict.\nIncomprehensible! Real critics are becoming scarce\nin New York. The entente cordiale between business\noffices of the daily papers and press agents who are\ngiving out the big theatrical advertisements do not seem\nany longer to permit a critical interloper. Therefore per-\nhaps James Huneker fled into the wilderness of Flat-\nbush, grew fat and gray, and writes only pot boilers for\nthe Sunday Times. But the birth-rate of critics is in-\ncreasing since from day today. Every college boy who\nspeaks and writes a Broadway slang—if possible, with\nan Oxford accent—-is gladly accepted as a judge of\ndramatic art.\nDramatic art? She can succeed only in veiy singular\ncases, putting up a hard fight against the coalition. But\notherwise a wonderful harmony is prevailing in the\ntheatrical microcosm of the United States. The\nprovincial managers get the New York verdicts which\nthey wish for and which they deserve. Newspapers are\nbeing blessed with columns of the criticisms that they\ndeserve. The public gets just the sort of newspapers\nthat it deserves. It is a circulus vitiosus and the taste\nof all concerned, verily, will not be improved. The typical\nproduct of this depravity is the leg show-euphemistically\ncalled musical comedy or even comic opera. Supposedly\nwelcomed by the tired business man, the leg show is\nundoubtedly the pet child of the commercial manager,\nof the critic and of the public. That it satisfies the\nmasculine taste—especially of a masculinity tired out\nby business—can be easily understood. It represents\nthe extremest possible exposition of female charms,\npermitted by the police only here—outside of certain\nillegal places of amusement. Also ladies like to visit\nthese shows, escorted by their men friends ; they are so\nanimating. Furthermore, women are objects of a\nstrange worship in these plays. Even in the title, a\ngirl has to figure. The last one is \"The Girl from Brazil\"\nin the Forty-forth Street Theatre. It was, as the \"near\ncritics\" agreed in the morning papers, an average Broad-\nway success. Not on account of the music, which was\nso little new that whole motifs were lifted from Johann\nStrauss's \"The Bat\" and from Oscar Strauss's \"The\nWalz' Dream\", They appeared like spectres of happy\ndays that had gone before. The plot was desperately\nlike other plots of equally low plausibility, which we—\nyou and I—tried to puzzle out on former occasions.\nThe principals on the stage showed the average lack of\nability, of temperament, of style. The chorus girls\nwere not exeptionally beautiful nor had they good voices.\nStill, the verdict was unanimous that the show had\n\"push and go.\" That means a good deal: the possibi-\nlity of a longer or shorter run in New York and to create\nappetite in the provinces. \\\nIt is a good joke that the provincal public will not get\neven half of the New York production. Shoftly before\nthe show is put on the road, the actors of the principal\ncharacters will disappear and will be substituted by\nunderstudies. The managers will commission a musical\nconductor to reduce the thirty or thirty-one orchestral\nparts of the first act to about twelwe. The mortality\namong the chorus girls reduces their number destruo\ntively and very few \"beauties\" are left.\nThat is how the average New York comedy success\nlooks, viewed by the art lovers in Oshkosh and\nSheboygan.\nThe new season has given us a few melodramas with\nplots which are new to no one and a few comedies which\nwere to silly even for the silly season. The exception is\n\"Turn to the Right;\" in the Gaiety Theatre. Mr.\nSmith is a wise Theban,—he took the funny crook plays\nand the \"Old Homestead\" as ingredients to a ragout,\nseasoned with the piquant sauce of slang humor. He\nprepared it in a very palatable manner. New Yorkers\n\"fall for it,\" as they say on Broadway.\nDisappointing was the new \"big show\" in the Hip-\npodrome. The Hippodrome is New York's own. Here\nin past years—thanks to the genius of Arthur Voegtlin—\nwas shown something so spectacular, so big,—with a\ncolor beauty and variety: it was art, even though single ••\nnumbers on the program could not justly claim artistic\nqualities. A style developed and there were unlimited\npossibilities inside of this style.\nCharles Dillingham during the past year made this\nstyle real and opened up new possibilities.\nBut nothing seems quite to fit this year, notwithstand-\ning the lavishly luxurious sceneries. The minstrel show\nis inharmoniously big and long.—Oysters taste well if\none eats' a dozen, but not if taken by the gross. The\ncombination Pavlowa—Bakst—Tschaykowsky is out of\nplace in the Hippodrome. Its right place is in the opera\nhouse.\nMost of the vaudeville numbers lack wit. The music\ndoesn't keep the whole thing together; it falls to pieces\nlike a mosaic you pick up.\nOnly the ice ballet is a delight.\nI believe the big show will undergo big changes during\nthe next month, changes for its own best.\nMOMUS\nDaly's Theatre\nNOW it is the home of melodrama. Ghost of Daly!\nDo you ever visit the temple you built to your art\non Thirtieth Street and Broadway, and do you see\nthe changes that transform it sporadically into a burles-\nque showhouse, a movie theatre, into a political meeting\nhall and into continuous vaudeville?\nWalter Sanford has leased it now and we hope he\nwill meet with success. He intends to produce popular-\npriced dramas.\nIt would be a good thing if there were a theatre where\npeople could drop in and see a drama for the price tff a\n\"Keith ' and Proctor's\" show. They played \"The Hour\nof Temptation\" last week, the program calls it a \"New\nMelodrama, by Lee Morrison.\" There was very much\nof Molnar's \"The Devil\" in it. And there were a few\nscenes that reminded us very much of a certain stock\ncompany in Tecumseh, Michigan, the delight of our"}, {"page_pdf": 11, "page_imprimee": "977", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.11", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n(Continued from last issue)\n\nyouthful thunder-and-sensation-thirsty soul. The plot-is\nnot worse—if it is not better—than that of the average\nBroadway play. The lack of costly scenery and lavish\nequipment produces a reality which makes the stage a\n\"moral institution\" To see a bit of the Devil, who goes\nabout in sheepskin will do us good once in a while. To\nsee that punishment is inevitable whenever a crime has\nbeen committed is rarely exploited in Broadway show\nhouses.\nPrimitive stage conditions give the actor a chance to\ncreate his parts. Mr. Sanford's company plays well;\nmaking allowances for their often too evident desire\nto please their melodrama-thirsty audience. Anita Card-\nner is a pretty girl and as such would be welcome to\nany city editor as a member of his staff . . . until she\nhad covered her first assignment. William Morris played\nwith a good balance his difficult double part of Satan\nand man. Elinor Montell was attractive as demi mon-\ndaine but a bit too pathetic after her successful struggle\nwith the devil.\nSome evening, if you have nothing better to do, take\na stroll up to Daly's and take in the melodrama. The\nbest seat is fifty cents and between the acts you can\nmeditate upon the quick transition of glory, comparing\nthe splendor of imported tapestry that covers the walls\nand the balustrades of the boxes with the cheap kitchen\nchairs that are taking the place of the comfortable seat-\ning facilities of yore.\n\nTwo People.\nThe Romance of One Night\nBy Guido Bruno\n\"I judge from your appearance and especially from\nyour conduct since—well, say, since we met, that we\nbelong to the same class. I want you to bring me to\nsome place where you can hide me—hide me for at least\na week, where I feel absolutely sure to come and go\nwithout being molested. I want you to assist me in\nseveral things that I desire to undertake. In short, I\nwant you to do everything that I might request you to\ndo, promising that nothing will be against law and order.\nBut above all, you must promise never to make even an\nattempt to look at my face. You might call me any name\nyou choose. I won't tell you who I am. Only so much,\nthat the money I have is my own, and that I didn't do\nanything wrong, making it necessary for me to hide or\nflee. Now, please consider my proposition, and if you\nthink that you can carry it out, I shall tell you in detail\nmy plans and see what suggestions you have to make.\"\nDuring all the time she had been speaking, I had\nfought with myself and finally had come to the con-\nclusion to ask her to do it. No matter how unmanly it\nmight seem,T simply could not endure it any longer.\n\"Well?\" she said, \"what do you think of my pro-\nposition?\" after I explain to you the circumstances, you\nwill understand better and you will perhaps pardon my\nstraightforwardness.\" I really felt embarrassed. I didn't\nknow how to say it exactly. She seemed to feel my\nembarrassment and interjected encouragingly, \"I won't\nmind if you say even the worst. I know my conduct\ngives you ample excuse to say anything in the world\nwithout hurting my feelings.\"\n\"Well, then—would you mind to buy me a package\nof cigarettes,\" I blurted out.\n\"A what?\" she asked unbelievingly.\n\"A package of cigarettes — any brand you might,\nchoose—but just cigarettes. For you must know I am\ndead broke. I haven't got a cent in my pockets. I was\nstanding on the corner where you—well, say, met me,\nwaiting for a friend who has the habit of carrying a\npackage of cigarettes in his pockets. I had stood there\nfor almost an hour, waiting for him, to get a couple of\ncigarettes. I would have smoked one of them tonight\nbefore retiring and the other one tomorrow morning.\nYou practically prevented me from getting them so I\nthink it is only fair for you to buy me a package of\ncigarettes.\"\nShe didn't say a word, turned searchingly in all direc-\ntions, discovered a cigar stand, crossed over and came\nback with a package of Pall Malls. If there is any\ncigarette I hate it is a Pall Mall. Its a typical highbrow\ncigarette and I'll bet you'll find mighty few chaps in the\nPall Mall Club smoking Pall Mall cigarettes. But it\nshowed me clearly again the character of this girl. There\nwas first of all a hereditary delicacy that forebade her\nto ask questions, to make a remark or to offer me her\npurse to purchase these cigarettes. And then, her New\nYork breeding: I am sure she went to that cigar counter\nand said, \"Give me the best cigarettes you have,\" what\nthe cigar clerk translated into \"the most expensive"}, {"page_pdf": 12, "page_imprimee": "978", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.12", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n(To be Continued)\n\ncigarettes in stock.\" He gave her a package of matches,\ntoo.\nNever had a cigarette tasted better to me than this\nPall Mall. It was a luxury. Even Sarah Bernhardt tak-\ning her famous bath in the contents of sixty bottles of\nchampagne, or Nero looking at Rome that he had put on\nfire, composing the poem that would make him immortal,\ncould not have felt better than did I. My companion\nmust have watched me, realizing that I did not wish to\nbe disturbed while I was lighting my cigarette.\n\"How about my proposition now?\" she asked finally,\nafter I had taken my third puff and was really contented,\ncontented with the world in general and with myself and\nmy present situation in particular.\n\"My dear girl,\" I said, \"you have far too beautiful\nhands to commit murder. I don't believe that you are a\nthief and even if you were a murdress and a thief, I\n\"would gladly accept your proposition. Of course, I want\nto know a little more in detail what you will expect me\nto do. But do not mention the twenty-five thousand\ndollars again. It doesn't sound nice. It destroys a lot\nof values in me, values you created unknowingly.\"\nWhile talking she had taken off her gloves and I could\nnot take my eyes away from those wonderful hands.\nThey fascinated me. The funny thing is, I never tried\nto imagine how her face might look.\nI showed her again that she might count on me for\nanything she might want to undertake and reminded her\nof the late hour. It was nearly one o'clock. \"I shall be\nglad to do everything in my power to help you out/' I\nsaid, \"but now, let's go. If you don't want to walk, you\nwill have to pay your fare, and you will have to pay\nmine, too.\"\n\"But where are we going?\"\n* \"To my apartment, of course.\"\n\nWhy and How I Got Married\nMany hundred stories, brief and lengthy accounts, arrive every week at the desk of our Contest Editor. Most\nof thm testify that marriage, even in our commonplace age, preserves its old romance and that to relate a story of\nhow Grandfather took Grandmother urges the pen into hands not oterwise ambitious of literary' achievement. A\nhandful of this stories will be chosen every week forthe perusal of our readers.\n\nA Pleasant Husband\nD.D. (Pittsburgh)\n44\\Y7HY did I get married?\"—keeps running thru my\nW head today, as I sit herein my hot, stuffy office,\ntrying to enjoy two sandwiches and a pickle that wifey\nputin a paper sack this morning at Six.\nLet me see,—yes, I met her at a week end party.\nShe was good loking,—had the color hair I always used to\nrave about.—nice teeth, well built,—and—well to make the\n•story short—we were married.\nJust a year ago last Friday it happened,—and I have been\nwondering \"WHY\" ever since. Worry from morn 'til night.\nFirst—the rent is due,—then a new gown,—a hat to match,\nshoes—on down the list, until my weekly pay envelope really\nlooks sick when I finish paying the \"little incedentals\" as she\ncalls 'em,—out of it.\nAs I sit here, with a sack of Bull Durham on my hip, I\ncan't help thinking of that Silver case,—empty in the top\ndrawer,—that used to be filled with monogramed cigarettes.\nI used to go to the Winter Garden,—now a Picture Show\ngets my dime. I used to have my suits made on Fifth Ave.\nnow I look the papers thru for weeks, to where I can\nget a hand-me-down for $12.98.\nAnd my over-coat is so old—l dread to think what it will\nlook like when the Cleaner brings it back.\nThe Romance before we were married, is changed to worry\nand sighs.\nWhat wouldn't I give for my little old hall room,—a suit\nof clothes that you can wear in the rain without fear of it\nshrinking and being strangled to death,—and a first night at\nthe Winter Garden and some butter-cakes and coffee at\n< Childs.\nI wonder WHY I ever married?\nSimply was lonesome, and to oblige her I gtiess.\n\nSacrifice, Privilege of Love\n\nI was a quiet studious little girl when my grandmother\nremarked casually to my mother that I was the sort of\ngirl who would never marry. Mamma was disturbed and\ndecided to at least give me, the chanpe. Our modest income\nwas stretched to two new dresses and etcetras, an iniation\nfee to an amateur dramatic club, to say nothing of a dance\nor two. I had ae clever mother, and half a dozen beaux soon\nensued. I also had a sense of humor and warned them of\nmamma's nefarious schemes, which proved to be good\ndiplomacy, too. Feeling that the mater deserved to prove\nher point, I accepted the best of my beaux, a wealthy young\nman on the London Stock Exchange, but secretly entered\ninto a six months contract with him by which hearts and\nsmall sundries were to be returned intact, reasonable wear\nand tear excepted, if I failed to fall in love with him. We\nrenewed that contract for 99 years. But . . .\nWell, the Boer War wrecked many fortunes on the Stock\nExchange, including my fiance's. The mater commanded us\nto call the marriage off. Then I proved unexpectedly dis-\nobedient. With nothing but the proceeds of the sale of\njewelry he had given me, we fled from England to California\nas man and wife. It was a wonderful adventure, no money*\nno friends, not much business ability, but lots of love and\nself-confidence. I got a position first, which nearly broke v\nmy husband's heart. But a bank soon discovered it needed\nhis Stock Exchange experience and it was not long before we\nhad our own little home, a baby, a big garden, and many\ngood friends.\nOdd as it may seem, my most poigffant happiness came\nwheh my husband developed tuberculosis, when the baby was\na year old. For it gave me such a chance to prove my love.\nI was the bread-winner and managed to make good on\na newspaper. Every little success I met was such an ex-\nquisite joy, meaning as it did, fresh comforts and care for\nmy sweetheart. And the pride he took in me, and the un-"}, {"page_pdf": 13, "page_imprimee": "979", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.13", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\ndeserved but sweet plaudits of the family at home, the\namazing kindness we received from our American friends,\nthe consideration with which my paper treated me, were all\nvery sweet and heartening. I am a widow now after six\nyears of almost unalloyed happiness. Our one big trouble\nwiped out all small tribulations and made them seem so\npuny.\nAnd I still treasure our two copies of that naughty contract\nI drew up when we were first engaged, for fear I might not\nlove him.\n\nMrs. Alma W. (Los Angeles)\n\nShe does not believe in marriage.\nA.M.B: (N.Y.)\nI was always quite sure that J would marry some day but\n\"The Day\" seemed to be most desirable when it was\nremote. Even as a schoolgirl I had definite dreams of a\ncareer. Marriage was mentally relegated to the late twenties.\nI had always plenty of beaux. There was no hurry. Besides\nno one of the many male friends who came into my life and\npassed out again seemed quite to suit. I meant to marry\nfor love pure and simple but there was always some barrier\nto pervent the incipient grand passion reaching its ultimate\nclimax. The man with the cleanest soul might have the\ndirtiest finger nails; the most ardent lover, alas, was often\nalso the most comperhensive liar; and the fine Mautz, looking\nfellow was too frequently supplied with every physiological\nrequisite except brains. Well, the thirties were approaching\nfast. Lovers were fewer than they had been and no choice\nhad been made. The only apparently perfect man on my\nhorizont was already married. Recklessly I made a vow. \"I\nshall marry the first man who proposes to me/' A week\nafterwards I met him. Two weeks afterwards our wedding\nday was fixed. It was,, in all sincerity, the happiest day of\nmy life. In the marriage lottery I drew a lucky number.\nAnd yet, Mr. Bruno, although I am very happy woman I do\nnot believe in the institution of marrioge. There, what do\nyou think of that?\n\nHigh Ideals.\nX.Y. (Alabama)\nA beautiful moonlight evening in August, a chance meeting\nwith an aubun-haierd girl to be followed by many other\nmeetings, the/ most blissful and happy hours of all my\nexistence, these hours filled with pleadings, yes, and with\ntears, in which I begged that she become my wife.\nSuch was our courtship, for I became an impetueous wooer\nfrom the first and would never accept a \"no\" as final.\nEight months of separation, during which I pleaded daily\nby letter, to be finally rewarded in person.\nEach poor and working for our daily bread, but happy to-\ngether when opportunity afforded, and the world old, happy,\nblissful feeling, that we could not be content alone.\nSpending my last dollar in a long distance call from\nChicago to Cleveland, just to hear her voice. Longing for a\nplace to call home, even though we knew it could never be\nanything but the plainest, but where love might rule.\nShe in her \"best\" suit, I in my \"black,\" a short walk to\nthe priests home accompanied by her sister and a close friend\nof mine where a simple ceremony united us, \"till death do us\npart,\" to be \"her husband\" and \"my wife,\" the happiest\nstate in existence.\nA street car to town, wedding dinner at the Tip Top Inn,\ntickets for Forty-Five Minutes from Broadway and \"home\"\nto light-housekeeping rooms which we together had previously\nengaged. : , ,\nBecause we sincerely loved each the other, secure in that\nknowledge, neither wishing for display or show, content with\nlittle, knowing that the evil called divorce could never cast\nits shadow over us, wishing to,bear children to bind us more\nclosely—which our three healtny boys have done—this is our\nanswer to your question of, \"Why and How We Were Mar-\nried.\"\n\nThe Romance in a freight elevator.\nL.G.\nABOUT April 1912, I secured a position as frieght elevator\nrunner in an uptown building.\nAfter working about an hour at my new position, the bell\nrang from the fourth floor. When I opened up the doors, a\nyoung lady appeared standing there. She seemed all out of\nplace between those dirty cases and general disorder.\nIn a business-like voice she said to me, \"Boy, get me two-\nsandwiches.\"\nI was on the point of refusing this unpolite command but:\nafter looking at her face I perceived a more pleasant and\nappealing disposition than the voice indicated.\nDuring the remainder of the day, I couldn't help but think\nof the girl on the fourth floor. I made it my business to have\nsome excuses to bring me up\" on the fourth floor and it\nseemed the girl there always had something for me to do.\nOne day, I asked her company to an affair. She accepted\nthe invitation, and we arrived home late in the evening. At\nher house, I declared my love for her and she accepted me.\nWe were married in April 1915, just three years after I\ngot my position as an elevator runner.\n\nShe proposed.\nM.F. (Detroit)\nTHE story of my love and marriage is a refreshing oasis\nin the desert of divorce.\nMy brother brought Neal to our home. His friendship with\nbrother grew and soon included the entire family. I liked\nhim, and thought no more of it.\nIt sounds maudlin, but a dream made me realize my love..\nThe memory of that wonderful dream moment haunted me in\nwaking hours and forced me to picture Neal as my lover\nwhen next we met. And then I knew!\nI analyzed my love carefully; we were congenial, I\nrespected him, admired him and was not without a wholesome\npassion. I knew I should want my boy to be his duplicate.\nBut be didn't love me—yet.\nI tried to awaken an answering need in his heart, for I\nknew I could make him ideally happy. My brother happened\nto mention one day that Neal had been engaged to a mer-\ncenary girl who discovered his financial status. He had lost\nhis faith in woman's capacity for love.\nSo I did the hardest thing a woman can do in proof of her\nlove—i Went to him and told him all I felt for him. Why\nshould one be ashamed to speak of the best thing in his life?\nNeal understood, and loved me, loved me big His\nfaith was renewed and he appreciated me the more for his;\nunhappy experience. As a final test, I believe, he insisted\non an elopement; his marriage was too sacred to be shared\nwith an unsympathetic, critical gathering.\nThe beauty of my life with Neal grows with time we've\nhad two wonderful years, for our union was founded on\nmutual understanding, real love and youth—l'm only twenty-\none now!"}, {"page_pdf": 14, "page_imprimee": "980", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.14", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\nBruno s Weekly, published weekly by Bruno's Weekly, Inc. Charles Edison, Pres,; Guido Bruno, Vice-Pres,;\nWalter L. Eckert, See. and Treas., at 58 Washington Square, New York City. Edited and written by Guido\nBruno. Subscription $2 a year.\nEntered as second class matter at the Post Office of New York, N. Y., October 14th, 1915 under the Act of March\n3rd, 1897.\n\nTHE GARRET SHOP\nODD BOOKS\nPAMPHLETS\nDROWING, PAINTINGS\nFramed and Unframed\n58 Washington Square\n\nTO YOU, GENTLE READER\nKindly give your standing order for Bruno's\n\"Weekly to your newsdealer, if you do not\nwish to send us directly a subscription. The\npresent paper prices are such that it provqf\ndisastrous for a magazine to print more\ncopies than are needed for its regular sub-\nscription circulation and for a supply of\nunreturnable orders of news companies and\nmagazine agencies.\nAlso we cannot supply you with back num-\nbers which you have missed on the news-\nstands.\nTherefore, if you like the contents of\nBruno's Weekly, release your clutches from\na two-dollar bill and send in your check\nto-day or give a standing order to your news-\ndealer.\n\nReaders of Bruno* s Weekly are asked to Become Subscribers\n52 Issues, Two Dollars\nSEND YOUR CHEQUE TO-DAY\n58 WASHINGTON SQUARE, NEW YORK CITY\nROSSI BROTHERS\n58 Washington Square\nUnderneath the Garret\nICE CREAM AND TOBACCO\nFLORENCE GOUGH\nShows Smart Millinery for Grown Ups—Mother\nGoose's Millinery for Children and other unique\nthings to wear.\nTHE PAINT BOX\n150 W. 4th St., Near 6th Ave.\nN. Y. C. Phone Spring 23\nThe Mad Hatter Has a Tea Party Every Afternoon\nrom 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.\"\nc 'Nobody Asked Your Opinion\" Edith Unger.\nI BUY BOOKS\nSingle volumes, small lots, and libraries; autograph letters of known literary men and\nartists, drawings, pictures and engravings. Address\nCOLLECTOR,\" Care of Bruno's Weekly, 58 Washington Square.\ni t\nEdith Haynes Thompson\nHer Shop\n64 WASHINGTON SQUARE SOUTH\nContaining Many Quaint and Beautiful Things\nHours: 1 to 5.30 P. M.\nj. 112. McCarthy\nPaintings and Antiques\n30 West 46th Street"}, {"page_pdf": 15, "page_imprimee": "[981]", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.15", "texte": "Bruno Chap Books\nNo.\n1. The Harlot's House, by Oscar Wilde\nThe first American reprint of one of the\nmost wonderful poems of the author $\n2. Setting Hens, Frogs' Legs, by D. Molby\nD. Molby, passes the white elephant un-\nremarked, but writes an essay on the mos-\nquito's neck and the rhythm of his little wings\nbefore he stings and annoys\n3. Mushrooms, by Alfred Kreymborg\nMr. Kreymborg's Mushrooms are recognized\npoetry. The Mushroom stands for a simple\nexpression of thought in simple musical\nrhythm. Mr. Kreymborg is one man who\nspeaks to his fellow-men—just to the one who\nmight find in four or six simple lines of\n—rhythm the revelation of the rhythm and the\nharmony of his own simple life\n4. Tahiti, by Robert Carlton Brown\n5. Four Letters, by Oscar Wilde\n6. Anarchists, by Guido Bruno\n7. To My Mother, by Alfred Kreymborg\n8. Vignettes, by Hubert Crackanthorpe\nMr. Crackanthorpe had thre& chief gifts:\nskill in dramatic narration—a sense of sit-\nuation, a lively feeling for the value of inter-\npretation of gesture, posture, circumstance;\nsecondly, analytic skill in the conception and\npresentation of character; thirdly, descriptive\nand pictorial power, readiness of vision, with\na faculty of sifting and selecting its reports.\nLionel Johnson, in Acad., March.2o, 1897....\n9. Tanka and Haika, by Sadakichi Hartmann\nThe son of a German father and a Japa-\nnese mother, of a burgomaster's son from\nMecklenburg, the only European state with-\nout a Constitution, and the daughter of a\nronin, a robing soldier of Old Japan. Sada-\nkichi is much more Japanese than German.\nHis style is extravagant but suave. Some of\nhis short stories are as excessibe and intense\nas Poe's, on strictly realistic and intense as\nPoe's, on strictly realistic lines. The utmost\nbounds of expression are reached, eben his\noriginality is aggressive\n10. Richard Wagner, the Egoist, by Guido Bruno\n11. Edna the Girl of the Street, by Guido Bruno\nCause: our social conditions.\nMotibe: just to live.\nProblem: eternal.\nSolution: none.\n12. Songs of the Cosmos, by Charles Keeler\nLike the weaver of wonderful brocades, he\nselected thread after thread and up loomed\nthose wonderful pictures before my eyes,\ncreations of simple words, dipped in red blood,\ntinted by the golden sun, formed and shaped\nby hands who know the labors and pains of\nmillions scented with good-will towards every-\nbody and emitted with pure love\nNo.\n13.\n.25 14.\n15.\n.25\n.50\nTeaspoons and Violet Leaves, by Guido Bruno\n16.\n.50\n.25\n.25 > 17,\n.25\n.25\n18.\n19.\n.25\n.25 20.\n.25\n21.\n.25 22\n23\n24.\n25.\n.25 26.\n.25\n.25\n1.00\nThe Tragedy in the Birdhouse, by Guido Bruno\n.50\nExotics, by John W. Draper\nIt law a luscious yellow band\nCreaming upon umbrageous green\nThe spray was satin to the hand;\nAnd to the eye a topaz bright,\nAnd dazzling as the noonday sand.\nFrom\"The Yellow Orchid\"\nImagists, by Richard Aldington\nOne of the original group of the English\nImagists tells about Imagism and its aims.\nThis paper deals a severe blow to all imita-\ntors and producers of vers libre who think\nthemselves poets of the \"new group\" because\nthey don't write in rhyme '.\nLord Alfred Douglas Salome: A Critique,\nthe Beauty of Unpunctuality: an Essay and\nThree Poems\nThere was a time when Lord Alfred Douglas\nwould have laughed at the idea that he would\nwrite a book explaining away his friendship\nwith Oscar Wilde. As editor of \"The Spirit\nLamp,\" a magazine published by James\nThornton, High Street, Oxford, and edited by\nLord Alfred Douglas, he seemed to be a\ndiligent imitator of his friend Oscar. He\nimitated his style in prose and in poetry.\nWhenever he received a contribution from\nOscar Wilde it was the main and leading\nfeature of the issue\nSadakichi Hartmann—Permanent Peace: Is it\na Dream ?\nCharles Kains-Jackson—John Addington Symonds\nA Portrait\nThe life-long friend of the English poet\ngives a vivid picture of the personality and\nlife and life-work of Symonds. This essay\nwritten a few days after the death of Sy-\nmonds, on the 19th of April, 1893, and was\nfirst published in the Quarto, a since forgotten\nliterary periodical of England, in 1897\nDjuna Barnes—The Book of Repulsive Wo-\nmen—Rythms and 5 Drawings\nEdna W. Underwood The Book of the White\nPeacocks • • • » • «'25\nH. Thompson Rich—Lumps of Clay—l 6 Rhythms\n.25\nD. Molby—Hippopotamus Tails—2B Every-day\nMusings • i25\nH. Thompson Rich—The Red Shame—-17 War\nPoems . . , , , 9 « 4.25\nTheodor Schroeder, Erothogenesis of Religion,\na bibliography :50\nSadakichi Hartmann, My Rubayat , 50\n.25\n.25\n:25\nAccompany each order with Cheque, small amounts, one-cent stamps\nBRUNO'S WEEKLY\n58 WASHINGTON SQUARE, N. Y. C.\nX"}, {"page_pdf": 16, "page_imprimee": "[982]", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19160909-01.1.16", "texte": "RARE BOOKS FIRST EDITION\nExtra Illustrated Books. Early Printed Books. Association Books. Books Cor Christmas ; Gifts.\nPurchased singly or in sets for people who have neither time nor\" opportunity to select for themselves,\n«\nor for those' Who have not access to the best book marts. Why not begin collecting now?\nAddress, E. V. Boston Transcript, Boston, Mass.\n' / . ' i ; r \\ ,Y-\n-——m—mut—— hi ■ iw iiiwhmb——b—wa——b——a—bmi «■ i ■■\nBeing a book\nIN WHICH\n• ' * '' \" / 112\nwe say just what we think. Published every month by Norman-Bel Geddes at 171 Wilson Avenue in\nDetroit, Michigan. It is a little book uniquely illustrated. Write for sample copy.\nHOTEL BREVOORT GAFE LAFAYETTE\nFifth Avenue University Place\nRAYMOND ORTEIG, INC. / •\nThe Two French Hotels and Restaurants of New York.\ni . X \\ j.'.\nGONFARONE'S\n40 West Bth Street\nTABLE D'HOTE\n\"Eating places are literary landmarks\" said 0. Henry, speaking of Gonfarone's in one of his\nunexcelled Greenwich Village Stories.\n\nThere can be no pleasanter place to hear that remarkable\nEdison Record Number (82536) than /\nTHE DIAMOND DISC SHOP\nAt Number 10 Fifth Avenue\nIn this store, at least, the delightful atmosphere of Old Greenwich Village has not been sacrificed\non the altar of commercialism v\nPhone: Stuyvesant 4570 A postal will bring you, with our compliments,\nan interesting little biography of Mr. Thos. A.\n\\ Edison."}]}