{"numero_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-10-25-01", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01", "ocr_sha256": "bccf0dd96a6a8f05bece5f431e857abde7f8f83091d2ba54b40017a0af95f614", "source_tei": "https://github.com/Princeton-CDH/bluemountain-transcriptions/blob/main/periodicals/bmtnaaq/issues/1916/10/25_01/bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01.tei.xml", "source_mets": "https://github.com/pulibrary/BlueMountain/blob/main/metadata/periodicals/bmtnaaq/issues/1916/10/25_01/bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01.mets.xml", "url_numero": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01", "articles": [{"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-10-25-01-c001", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01#c001", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_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=bmtnaaq19161025-01.2.1", "titre_corps": "Van Gough", "titre_sommaire": "Van Gough", "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=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.1", "debut_caractere": 101, "fin_caractere_exclue": 110, "texte": "Van Gough"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-10-25-01-c002", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01#c002", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "[1165]", "page_fin": "[1165]", "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=bmtnaaq19161025-01.2.2", "titre_corps": "Eldorado", "titre_sommaire": "Eldorado", "signature_source": "Edgar Allan Poe", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 3, "page_imprimee": "[1165]", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.3", "debut_caractere": 141, "fin_caractere_exclue": 672, "texte": "Eldorado\nEdgar Allan Poe.\nGaily bedight,\nA gallant knight,\nIn sunshine and in shadow,\nHad journeyed long,\nSinging a song,\nIn search of Eldorado.\nBut he grew old,\nThis knight so bold,\nAnd o'er his heart a shadow\nFell as he found\nNo spot of ground\nThat looked like Eldorado.\nAnd, as his strength\nFailed him at length,\nHe met a pilgrim shadow;\n\"Shadow\" said he,\n\"Where can it be,\nThis land of Eldorado?\"\n\"Over the mountains\nOf the moon,\nDown the valley of the shadow,\nRide, boldly ride,\"\nThe shade replied—\n\"If you seek for Eldorado!\""}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-10-25-01-c003", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01#c003", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "[1165]", "page_fin": "1166", "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=bmtnaaq19161025-01.2.3", "titre_corps": "Have You Ever Seen Your Double in a Painting?", "titre_sommaire": "Have You Ever Seen Your Double in a Painting?", "signature_source": "Guido Bruno", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 3, "page_imprimee": "[1165]", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.3", "debut_caractere": 674, "fin_caractere_exclue": 4425, "texte": "Have You Ever Seen Your Double in\na Painting?\n\nSOMEWHERE in this world is your double—a human\nbeing whose face resembles yours as the likeness\nstaring at you from the mirrors when you shave in the\nmorning or try to adjust that obstinate veil in just the\npeculiar way you wish to have it.\nThe characteristic lines about your mouth, the twinkle\nin the eye your friends tell you is just your own, also\nare there in the face of your double. He or she wears\nthe hair as you do, trims the mustache or beard as you\nare in the habit of wearing them, has your walk, and\neven your taste in dress. Your friends would mistake\nthis person for yourself should they meet him on the\nstreet and you yourself would stare with unbelieving\neyes and murmur, \"Marvelous!\"\nNature is mysteriously simple or simply mysterious.\nThe philosopher confronted with the question might\nmartyr his brains and after protracted pondering come\nto the conclusion:\n\"Why, there is nothing new in this world. Doubles\nexisted thousands of years ago. They exist today. They\nwill exist tomorrow and ever. How? Why? And\nwherefore? That is a mystery of nature.\nPaintings That Look Like You\nThen how can you help but look at it still as an un-\nsolved puzzle—one of nature's pranks—if you should\nlearn that your likeness is exhibited among the most\ncostly paintings of some ancient master—the pride of\nan art gallery whose owner paid a fabulous price for\nthe canvas?\nThere was an exihibition of paintings by contemporary\nSpanish artists in the Art institute. Among the can*-\nvasses exhibited was \"Manolita,\" a young Spanish girl\nwith dark hair, parted in the middle and covering the\nears. The severe beauty of simple purity attracted at\nfirst, then made the onlooker return to glance at it again.\nMany praised it as the best painting ever exhibited by\nHermoso Martinez.\nMartinez painted \"Manolita\" from a living model in\nhis Spanish home town. What mysterious connection\nhas the model of the Spanish painter in the mountains of\nAndalusia with the proprietress of a delicatessen-store\non North Clark street, Chicago.\nMrs. Skelley has the same deeply set eyes as \"Mano-\nlita.\" Should she doff the clothes of the Chicago busi-\nness woman and discard from her mind the eternal prob-\nlem of buying and selling and live somewhere on a\nhigh mountain in green nature her eyes would surely\nhave that far away, dreamy look which makes Martinez's\npicture distinctive.\nAnd on the other hand, if the Spanish duanitta should\nexchange her mantilla for the shirtwaist of a Chicagoan,\nif she should attempt to buy and dispose of food at a\nprofit, her face would soon show the same determina-\ntion and the same deep lines characteristic of Mrs.\nSkelley's face.\nChicagoan Like a Rembrandt\nRembrandt once painted the likeness of Christian\nPaul Van Beeresteyn. It hung over the mantel of the\nancestral hall in the Chateau Maurik, near Vecht.\nChristian Paul was burgomaster of Delft for a term of\nyears and at the time the painting was originated by\nRembrandt he seemed to be at the height of his career.\nIt was in 1632. The Beeresteyns had seen their best\ndays. Grandsons squandered the fortunes of grand\nfathers who had provided well for them.\nIn 1884 the property of the old family was sold at\npublic auction. Among the silver and gold and most\nprecious things the appraiser had found in the deserted\nhalls of the ancient castle a genuine Rembrandt. The\ngood judgment Christian Paul had shown nearly three\nhundred years before in selecting the artist to paint his\nlikeness meant a fortune to his descendants.\nAn American was the highest bidder at the auction\nsale. For $75,000 he called the masterpiece his own.\nHe took it to New York and exhibited it in the Metro-\npolitan museum. Thousands came to see and admire the"}, {"page_pdf": 4, "page_imprimee": "1166", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.4", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 5881, "texte": "$75,000 picture which had found its way to the new\nworld.\nAnd among those thousands was one who also looked\nat the painting. It appeared to him like some one he\nhad known years before. He returned again.\n\"Doesn't it look like Vladimir Shamberk of Chicago?\"\nIt did.\nThe Van Dyke beard, the genially touselei hair, the\ntwo characteristic lines from the nostrils to the corners\nof the mouth, the high forehead—all appeared just like\na painting for which the Chicago artist might have sat.\nWhat a startling coincidence! The Bohemian artist\nhad come to Chicago and painted the most famous canvas\nthat ever glorified a son of Bohemia—that enormous\ndeath bed scene of the composer, Smetana, which he\nnamed 'Too Late.\" This artist resembled the Dutch\nburgomaster whose only memorable deed was to have his\nportrait painted by Rembrandt.\nBoth found recognition in the new world.\nSteele the Double of Edward VII\nPercival Steele, a Chicago lawyer, takes delight in\nrelating an incident that took place in Yellowstone park\nwhen a member of the German embassy and Canadian\ntourists mistook him for the Prince of Wales, later King\nEdward VII. \\\nIt was in the fall of 1898 when Mr. Steele, accom-\npanied by a few men, visited the Yellowstone. A party\nof Englishmen, Canadians, and attaches of the German\nembassy at Washington had cheered Mr. Steele for a\nlong time and they seemed to be puzzled about some-\nthing.\nThe same curious looks greeted him in the dining\nroom of the hotel and later on the observation car of a\ntrain. On returning from a short outing to the hotel he\nwas informed by the registry clerk that the party of\nEnglishmen had believed him to be the Prince of Wales\nand had made inquiries as to his identity.\nMr. Steele was mistaken similarly on frequent trips\nto Canada, which furnished occasions for many hearty\nlaughs.\nIndifference, a pleasant smile, a passing thought\nabout nature's unfathomable ways result in most cases\nwhen doubles meet in every day life. Mrs. Skelley was\nsurprised and pleased to see her Spanish likeness ad-\nmired by the thousands of visitors of the Art institute.\nProf. Vladimir Shamberk gazed a long time at the re-\nproduction of Rembrandt's painting which looked so\nmuch like himself. He shook his head and murmured:\n\" Extraordinary! Extraordinary!\" Mr. Steele was\npleased with his recollections of being mistaken for the\nlate king of the Britons.\nSudden Light of Face Fatal\nBut here are instances where the sudden appearance\nof a face, long forgotten, proved fatal. Conscience\nwhich had slumbered for years was put through the\nthird degree. On October 15, 1890, the morning papers\nof Paris carried a story of a theft in the Louvre. The\nstolen painting was a little canvas, 10 x 12 inches. It\nwas unsigned and had been kept in the Louvre only for\nits striking beauty.\nIt was the face of a girl, about 18 years of age, with\nbig blue eyes and blonde curls over the fresh, white\nforehead, a dimple in the left cheek, and a little me-\ndallion on a gold chain about the youthful neck. It\nhad been bequeathed to the Louvre, among valuable\npaintings, and the commission had decided to keep it.\nIt was a mystery. No one would have paid more than\nperhaps $20 for the picture.\nThe Matin carried the testimony of one of the mu-\nseum guards. It related to an old, thin man in clean\nbut shabby clothes, who for months had been a daily\nvisitor in the gallery where the picture hung. He had\nspent hours before the painting. But the incident was\nsoon forgotten and the painting was not found for many\nyears.\nIt was years afterward on a Christmas morning ia\n1899. A man had swung himself over the rail of the\nPont de Neuf and the Seine had washed him out. He\nwas an ugly little man in ragged clothes with a long\nbeard and long, uncombed hair. He was taken to the\nmorgue.\nPicture Resembled Lost Daughter\nHis clothes were searched. The pockets were empty.\nBut tied to hte body was a little roll, carefully wrapped\nin oil cloth. A picture and a letter were found in the\nroll.\nThe letter told the story of a father who had lost his\nwife and whose pleasure for years had been to take her\nlikeness, his liltle daughter, on Sundays to the outlying\ncemetery. The girl had grown up. She was beautiful.\nOne night the father came home and the supper was\nnot prepared. His daughter was gone. A long night\nof hope and despair did not bring her back and days\nwere spent in a vain search for her. He lost interest in\nlife and business. Once he saw her on the street. Her\nface and her clothes told him the sad tale. Their eyes\nmet and she turned away, jumped into an omnibus, and\nhe never saw her again.\nThe painted cheeks and dark rings beneath the star-\ning eyes haunted him day and night. He could work no\nlonger. He lost his home and he wandered the streets.\nTo warm himself one December morning the father\nsought the shelter of the Louvre. He looked at the\npaintings, at the statues, at the shimmering gems and\nthe ancient jewelry in glass cases. He saw a picture\non the wall. It was the girl's face which resembled his\nAngeline.\nOn each day when the doors were open to the public\nthe little gray haired man made his pilgrimage to the\nLouvre to see the likeness of his daughter. In the note\nin the roll found on his body he pictured how he had\nfought the mad desire to take possession of the little\npiece of canvas. He couldn't resist.\nOne evening he managed to hide himself and be\nlocked up with his Angeline—to be with her during a\nwhole night. He thought of how comforting it would\nbe to have her with him all the time. He took his pen-\nknife and carefully cut the painting from its frame. In\nthe morning it was easy to slip out and disappear\n'Friends refused their help. Without shelter, without\nlove, hugging his treasure to his heart, he tramped the\nstreets. He gave up,hope, decided to die, and the Seine,\nwith her ever open arms, receivd him.\n\nGuido Bruno."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-10-25-01-c004", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01#c004", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "1167", "page_fin": "1167", "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=bmtnaaq19161025-01.2.4", "titre_corps": "Eugene Field's Early Verse", "titre_sommaire": "Eugene Field's Early Verse", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 5, "page_imprimee": "1167", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.5", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 4185, "texte": "Eugene Field's Early Verse\nIn an old scrap book I found the following extract—\nWho knows but in some years to come someone may hap-\npen, in some scrapbook, upon these lines and use them too.\nIN an old scrap book I recently happened upon several\ngracious bits of verse signed by Eugene Field, and\ncredited to several Western papers upon which the hu-\nmorist served his novitiate. These verses have not been\nthought of sufficient importance to incorporate in his\npublished works, but they are interesting to his admirers,\nas they evince a certain facetious trend subsequently\ndeveloped to its maturity. They were mere drifts on\nthe great sea of journalism, and found no snugger\nharbor than the wrinkled pages of a scrap-book.\nDuring the years 1879-81 Field was on the staff of\nthe Kansas City Times. He contributed to the paper\ninnumerable columns of verse, criticsms, humorous\nsketches, jokes, satires—a literary hodge-podge. In\nmy book are many reminiscences of these days. The\nfollowing skit is dated New Year's Day 1880:\nFour young men in an old box sleigh\nWhirling away on the New Year's Day,\nHappy and free as the air were they,\nAnd they laughed\nAnd they chaffed,\n>45 blocks away\nThey merrily sped, their calls to pay.\nFour little maidens in white pekay*—\nMaudie and Bessie and Ruth and May—\nWatched and pined that live long day.\nAnd they moaned\nAnd they groaned\nIn a feminine way,\nWatching in vain for that old box sleigh.\n\\\nFour mad horses running away,\nFour young men in an o'erturned sleigh,\nCorner of \\3th and North Broadway,\nAnd they fussed\nAnd they cussed,\nSpectators say,\nAnd the d 1 generally was to pay.\nPity the youth in that old box sleigh,\nPity the tumble they had that day,\nPity the bills they had to pay,\nBut more than all\nTheir rise and fall\nPity, we pray,\nThe maidens lorn in the white pekay.\nField had a habit of spinning what he called \"Rhym-\ning ribbonry,\" a phrase purely Fieldian, and not to be\nfound in modern dictionaries. This \"Ribbonry\" consist-\ned of curiously constructed lines playing upon words\nin this wise:\nStraight where she strayed, with stride fie strode,\nSad sighed he on the sod and said:\nuSay, see I sigh and sue you so \"\nShe had no heed, but hid her head—\nMaud's mood the mud of mead made mad,\nNo answer knew she now but \"No.\"\nThe swinging measures of the \"Little Peach\" attained\na tremendous popularity a few years ago. During\nField's connection with the Kansas City Times he wrote\na quaint bit of rambling rhyme, in which is traceable\nthe inspiration that produced the tragedy of John and\nhis sister Sue. It is styled the \"Song of the Phillaloo,\"\nof which the first stanza runs:\nHer face was as fair as the noonday bright,\nAnd her eyes were a dreamy blue;\nHer voice was as soft and as sweet and light\nAs the lay of the lark in its fitful flighty\nOr the voice of the Phillaloo—\nToohoo, too hoo.\nThe voice of the Phillaloo.\nThe love of children and reverence for childhood\nwhich characterized such a share of Eugene Field's\nmaturer work was evidenced by much that he wrote in\nhis younger days. When he \"helped to run the local\non the St. Jo. Gazette,\" many tender songs found a\nnesting-place in many a mother's heart. I have before\nme as I write, the.autograph copy of an exquisite bit of\nchild's verse, which I have never seen in print:\nOh, where is little Tiny Toes?\nThat elf with such a roguish nose,\nWhere is he with his golden hair,\n/Is yellow as the sunbeams rare?\nNurse says he isn't anywhere.\nHas no one seen sweet Tiny Toes?\nHe totters, precious, as he goes!\nHe wears the cutest baby clothes!\nAnd now he isn't anywhere!\nDid angels steal him unaware?\nHe's gone, alas, is Tiny Toes,\nWhere, where alas nobody knows!\nAh, cruelest this of all the woes!\nWhafs that? The rogue! His golden hair,\nEyes, nose, and all behind my chair?\nSly rogue was hiding, smiling there!\nThere never can be another Field. Such a diversified\npersonality occurs only once in a cycle. A remarkable\ncombination of contrasting traits, he had a personal\npopularity seldom attained by one man. A mass of con-\ntradictions, he was at heart, a simple, wayward child,\nand it is because of his love for children tftat they look\nupon him as their laureate."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-10-25-01-c005", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01#c005", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "1167", "page_fin": "1167", "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=bmtnaaq19161025-01.2.5", "titre_corps": "\"Sower\" by Van Gough", "titre_sommaire": "\"Sower\" by Van Gough", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 5, "page_imprimee": "1167", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.5", "debut_caractere": 4187, "fin_caractere_exclue": 4207, "texte": "\"Sower\" by Van Gough"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-10-25-01-c006", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01#c006", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "1168", "page_fin": "1168", "image_debut": 6, "image_fin": 6, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.2.6", "titre_corps": "Legend of Hercules", "titre_sommaire": "Legend of Hercules", "signature_source": "August Strindberg", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 6, "page_imprimee": "1168", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.6", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 3367, "texte": "Legend of Hercules\nBy August Strindberg\n\nHERCULES had performed his six wonders and made\nready for the seventh, the cleaning of the stables of\nAugias. This task, while not the hardest, was a most un-\npleasant one; for in that stable for thirty years had dwelt\nthirty thousand oxen, and never had a cleaning shovel inter-\nfered among them. First, Hercules tried broom and shovel.\nThen howled the oxen—imagine thirty thousand oxen: \"Let\nbe that dirt: that is our dirt!\"\n\"The dickens!\" exclaimed Hercules and started to remove\nthe refuse. \"We want to keep our filth,\" howled the oxen\nand showed their horns. But Hercules hit them on the ears\nwith his shovel, bade them keep silence, and unmindful of\nthe odor kept at his task.\n\"Ho, look at the pig!\" jeered the oxen. \"You are the\npigs,\" said Hercules, \"because you are at fault for the dirt\naround here. And lam not to blame if lam soiled by touch-\ning you.\"\nThe oxen were silenced. But now the little bugs, who had\nfor long dwelt in the filthy mess, crawled about. \"Leave\nour filth alone,\" growled they. \"It is not yours, but the\noxen's,\" replied Hercules. \"Yes, but we'll freeze, if you\nremove it.\" \"Then go to work, and you will not freeze.\"\nAnd they went to work. In the night, while Hercules slept,\nthey moved back all the dirt which he had shovelled out dur-\ning the daytime. And when morning dawned, everything\nwas as filthy as before.\nWhen Hercules saw this, his anger was roused. \"Now\nthere is nothing I can do, but put the whole stable under\njwater.\" When the oxen heard him mention water, the which\nthey had not felt in thirty years, they were maddened and\nhowled so loudly, that the miserable bugs who were hiding\nin the darkness, flew up to seek shelter on the broad backs\nof the bovines. But Hercules was not to be balked. He\ndug a trench from the nearest brook and flooded the stable.\n\"He is an enemy of the people,\" wailed the oxen. \"He\nwants to destroy society; he will flood the whole world.\"\n\"That is not true,\" answered Hercules. \"I only want to\nclean up this mess, and I am no enemy of the people, but\na foe to oxen and to parasite bugs who revel in filth.\"\nAfter cleaning up Hercules retired to rest.\n\"How can we take revenge?\" asked the oxen. \"He fears\nnot our horns; have we no other weapons?\" \"Let us throw\ndirt at him,\" urged some. \"That he can wash off,\" said\nothers. So talking and considering, they came to the con-\nclusion that they had no weapons against Hercules.\nBut one of the dirty little bugs, who had listened to their\ntalk, had an idea. \"Put him under water,\" he advised— \"Put\nhim under water, as he did with our stable.\" \"Yes, that's it!\nBut where get the water?\" The bug whispered into the\nox's ear, the ox told his neighbor, and soon all the oxen\nknew how water was to be had.\nHercules suddenly woke, surrounded by a dirty flood, but\nfor reasons easily understood, the flood soon ceased. Her-\ncules grabbed his club and ran to the stable. There he\npondered: \"One would not kill a louse with a bludgeon.\nCould you not have used clean water as I did? But what\nis to be done! Oxen always remain oxen. I will whip you\nfor this dirty work, but don't think I came to seek revenge.\nI came not to avenge myself, but I will punish you.\"\nSo saying he went about and hit the oxen on their hinders.\nBut the filthy parasite bugs he completely ignored.\nTranslated by G. Prager."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-10-25-01-c007", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01#c007", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "1168", "page_fin": "1168", "image_debut": 6, "image_fin": 6, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.2.6.1", "titre_corps": "Maxim Gorky's Book-Plate", "titre_sommaire": "Maxim Gorky's Book-Plate", "signature_source": "", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 6, "page_imprimee": "1168", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.6", "debut_caractere": 3369, "fin_caractere_exclue": 3393, "texte": "Maxim Gorky's Book-Plate"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-10-25-01-c008", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01#c008", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "1168", "page_fin": "1168", "image_debut": 6, "image_fin": 6, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.2.7", "titre_corps": "The Golden Stake", "titre_sommaire": "The Golden Stake", "signature_source": "F. Sollogub", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 6, "page_imprimee": "1168", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.6", "debut_caractere": 3395, "fin_caractere_exclue": 3910, "texte": "The Golden Stake\nBy F. Sollogub\nLITTLE VOVA became angry at his father. He said to\nhis nursery-maid:\n\"As soon as I grow up I'll enlist as a general, will come\nto father's house with a cannon, take him prisoner and put\nhim on a stake.\"\nFather, who overheard Vova's threat, said:\n\"Oh, you bad boy! Are you going to set father on a\nstake? Why, it will hurt him.\"\nVova became frightened and answered:\n\"Oh, father, but this stake will be a golden one with an\ninscription: Tor bravery'.\"\nFrom the Russian by Anna Stavsky."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-10-25-01-c009", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01#c009", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "1168", "page_fin": "1168", "image_debut": 6, "image_fin": 6, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.2.8", "titre_corps": "A Song of Pennies", "titre_sommaire": "A Song of Pennies", "signature_source": "H. Thompson Rich", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 6, "page_imprimee": "1168", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.6", "debut_caractere": 3912, "fin_caractere_exclue": 4182, "texte": "A Song of Pennies\nH. Thompson Rich.\nTHE Poet needs the pennies\nYou spend for chewing-gum,\nAnd \"shoes and ships and sealing-wax,\nWhy don't you give him some?\nIf I had all the pennies\nSome folks have in their cup,\nI'd spend them for potatoes\nTo fill the Poet up! H. Thomps"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-10-25-01-c010", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01#c010", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "1169", "page_fin": "1169", "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=bmtnaaq19161025-01.2.9", "titre_corps": "Fragments from the Public Library in New York City", "titre_sommaire": "Fragments from the Public Library in New York City", "signature_source": "James Waldo Fawcett", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 7, "page_imprimee": "1169", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.7", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2016, "texte": "Fragments from the Public Library in New York City\nJames Waldo Fawcett\nI.— The Entrance\nHT HIS is the door\n* By which we enter in\nThis great white marble mausoleum\nOf dead and dying thoughts.\nCome, let us pause\nA moment;\nPerhaps a bird will come\nTo drink\nFrom the pool\nAt the marble lady's feet!\nII.— The Magazine Room\nTJROM every corner\n* Of the panting earth\nThey come:\nMen who sit\nAt these broad tables\nTurning leaves\nAll day.\nThey are wise.\nMore books are born\nAmong these paper covers\nThan those who write them\nCare to admit, good friend;\nFew books are there\nThat have not once\nBeen merely magazines.\nIII.— The Stack\nrHERE are hundreds\nOf thousands of volumes\nHere in this echoing vault;\nAnd each time these volumes\nHear the attendant's even tread,\nThey pray to their proper god\nEach in his own true tongue\nThat they be chosen.\nAnd when one returns\nFrom the little pilgrimage\nTo the main reading room,\nThe others ask him:\n\"How is the world?\"\nAnd sometimes he replies:\n\"It is grey and cold.\nAn aged professor wanted me.\nThere was something of soup\nIn his beard.\"\nAnd again he may say:\n\"The world is a singing place\nOf sunshine and love;\nI went to the hands of one\nWho is fair as Heloise,\nThe well-beloved of Abelard.\"\nStrange, eager hearts\nWithin these aging volumes . . . .\nIV.— The Stairway\nrP HIS white descent\n* Frightens me;\nIt is so steep\nAnd cold and white.\nSomeday I think\nI shall not resist\nThe subtle temptation\nTo throw myself\nDown the whole long flight\nAnd scatter poppies of scarlet\nOver all this adamantine coldness.\ni •\nV.— The Newspaper Room\nJT was here\n* That I found her secret,—\nHere among these musty old records,\nHere where man aids Gossip\nIn her war with Time.\nv t\nWhy do you live so long?\nYellow sheets of a day,\nWhy linger year on year?\nLearn to forget;\nBe kind.\nVI.— Bryant's Statue\nrT HIS is our humble tribute\n* To the name of him\nWho penned \"The Planting\nOf the Apple Tree.\"\nI wonder sometimes,\nWhen I look on his patient face 3\nIf Robert of Lincoln\nIs singing to him."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-10-25-01-c011", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01#c011", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "1169", "page_fin": "1171", "image_debut": 7, "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=bmtnaaq19161025-01.2.10", "titre_corps": "The Book of Bargains", "titre_sommaire": "The Book of Bargains", "signature_source": "Vincent O'Sullivan", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 7, "page_imprimee": "1169", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.7", "debut_caractere": 2018, "fin_caractere_exclue": 3688, "texte": "The Book of Bargains\nBy Vincent O'Sullivan\nIV.— When I Was Dead\n\"And yet my heart\nWill not confess he owes the malady\nThat doth my life besiege.\"\n—All's Well that Ends Well.\nTHAT was the worst of Ravenel Hall. The passages were\nlong and gloomy, the rooms were musty and dull, even\nthe pictures were sombre and their subjects dire. On an\nautumn evening, when the wind soughed and wailed through\nthe trees in the park, and the dead leaves whistled and chat-\ntered, while the rain clamoured at the windows, small won-\nder that folk with gentle nerves went a-straying in their wits.\nAn acute nervous system is a grievous burthen on the deck\nof a yacht under sunlit skies; at Ravenel the chain of nerves\nwas prone to clash and jangle a funeral march. Nerves must\nbe pampered in a tea-drinking community; and the ghost\nthat your grandfather, with a skinful of port, could face and\nnever tremble, sets you, in your sobriety, sweating and shiv-\nering; or, becoming scared (poor ghost!) of your bulged\neyes and dropped jaw, he quenches expectation by not ap-\npearing at all. So lam left to conclude that it was tea which\nmade my acquaintance afraid to stay at Ravenel. Even\nWilvern gave over; and as he is in the Guards, and a polo\nplayer, his nerves ought to be strong enough. On the night\nbefore he went I was explaining to him my theory, that if\nyou place some drops of human blood near you, and then\nconcentrate your thoughts, you will after a while see be-\nfore you a man or a woman who will stay with you during\nlong hours of the night, and even meet you at unexpected\nplaces during the day. I was explaining this theory, I\nrepeat, when he interrupted me with words, sense-"}, {"page_pdf": 8, "page_imprimee": "1170", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.8", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 6354, "texte": "less enough, which sent me fencing and parrying strangers,\n—on my guard.\n\"I say, Alistair, my dear chap!\" he began, \"you ought to\nget out of this place, and go up to town and knock about a\nbit—you really ought, you know.\"\n\"\"Yes,\" I replied, \"and get poisoned at the hotels by bad\nfood,- and at the clubs by bad talk, I suppose. No, thank\nyou: and let me say that your care for my health enervates\nme.\"\n\"Well, you can do as you like,\" says he, rapping with his\nfeet on the floor; \"I'm hanged if I stay here after to-morrow\n—I'll be staring mad if I do!\"\nHe was my last visitor. Some weeks after his departure\nI was sitting in the library with my drops of blood by me.\nI had got my theory nearly perfect by this time; but there\nwas one difficulty.\nThe figure which I had ever before me, was a figure of an\nold woman with her hair divided in the middle; and her hair\nfell to her shoulders, white on one side ana black on the\nother. She was a verp complete old woman; but, alas! she\nwas eyeless, and when I tried to construct the eyes she\nwould shrjvel and rot in my sight. But to-night I was think-\ning, thinking, as I had never thought before, and the eyes\nwere just creeping into the head, when I heard a terrible\n.crash outside as if some heavy substance had fallen. Of a\n?sifMen the door was flung open, and two maid-servants\nThey glanced at the rug under my chair, and at\n&hat they turned a sick white, cried on God, and huddled out.\n\"How dare you enter the library in this manner?\" I de-\nmanded, sternly. No answer came back from them, so I\nin pursuit. I found all the servants of the house\nin a knot at the end of the passage.\n\"Mrs. Pebble,\" I said smartly, to the housekeeper, \"I\nWcant those two women discharged to-morrow. It's an out-\nrage! You ought to be more careful.\"\nBut she was not attending to me. Her face was distorted\nwith terror.\n\"Ah dear, ah dear!\" she went. \"We had better all go\nto the library together,\" says she to the others.\n\"Am I still master of my own house, Mrs. Pebble?\" I in-\nbringing my knuckles down with a bang on a table.\nINone of them seemed to see me or hear me; I might as\nwell have been shrieking in a desert. I followed them down\nthe passage, and forbade them with strong words to enter the\nlibrary. But they trooped past me, and stood with a clutter\nround the hearth-rug. Then three or four of them began\ndragging and lifting, as if they were lifting a helpless body,\nand stumbled with their imaginary burthen over to a sofa.\nOld Soames, the butler, stood near.\n\"Poor young gentleman!\" he saicj, with a sob; \"I've\nknowed him since he was a baby. And to think of him being\ndead like this—and so young too!\"\nI crossed the room. \"What's all this, Soames?\" I cried,\nshaking him roughly by the shoulders. \"I'm not dead, I'm\nhere—here!\" As he did not stir, I got a little scared.\nold friend,\" I called, \"don't you know me? Don't\nyou know the little boy you used to play with? Say I'm not\ndead, Soames, please, Soames!\"\nHe stooped down and kissed the sofa. \"I think one of the\nmen ought to ride over to the village for the doctor, Mr.\nSoames,\" says Mrs. Pebble, and he shuffled out to give the\n& order.\nNow, this doctor was an ignorant dog, whom I had been\nforced to exclude from the house, because he went about\nproclaiming his belief in a saving God, at the same time\nthat he proclaimed himself a man of science. He, I was\nresolved, should never cross my threshold, and I followed\nMrs. Pebble through the house, screaming out prohibition.\nBut I did not catch even a groan from her, not a nod of the\nhead nor cast of the eye, to shew that she had heard.\nI met the doctor at the door of the library. \"Well!\" I\nsneered, throwing my hand in his face, \"have you come to\nteach me some new prayers?\"\nHe brushed by me as if he had not felt the blow, and\nknelt down by the sofa.\n\"Rupture of a vessel on the brain, I think,\" he says to\nSoames and Mrs. Pebble after a moment. \"He has been\ndead some hours. Poor fellow! You had better telegraph\nfor his sister, and I will send up the undertaker to arrange\nthe body.\"\n\"You liar!\" I yelled. \"You whining liar! How have you\nthe insolence to tell my servants that I am dead, when you\nsee me here face to face?\"\nHe was far in the passage, with Soames and Mrs. Pebble\nat his heels, ere I had ended, and not one of the three turned\nround.\nAll that night I sat in the library. Strangely enough, I\nhad no wish to sleep, nor, during the time that followed, had\nI any craving to eat. In the morning the men came, and al-\nthough I ordered them out, they proceeded to minister about\nsomething I could not see . So all day I stayed in the\nlibrary or wandered about the house, and at night the men\ncame again, bringing with them a coffin. Then, in my\nhumour, thinking it shame that so fine a coffin should be\nempty, I lay the night in it, and slept a soft, dreamless\nsleep—the softest sleep I have ever slept. And when the\nmen came the next day, I rested still, and the undertaker\nshaved me. A strange valet!\nOn the evening after that, I was coming down-stairs, when\nI noted some luggage in the hall, and so learned that my\nsister had arrived. I had not seen this woman since her\nmarriage, and I loathed her more than I loathed any crea-\nture in this ill-organized world. She was very beautiful I\nthink—tall, and dark, and straight as a ram-rod—and she\nhad an unruly passion for scandal and dress. I suppose the\nreason I disliked her so intensely was, that she had a habit\nof making one aware of her presence when she was several\nyards off. At half-past nine o'clock my sister came down to\nthe library in a very charming wrap, and I soon found that\nshe was as insensible to my presence as the others. I\ntrembled with rage to see her kneel down by the coffin—\nmy coffin; but when she bent over to kiss the pillow I threw\naway control.\nA knife which had been used to cut string was lying on a\ntable: I seized it and drove it into her neck. She fled from\nthe room screaming.\n\"Come, come!\" she cried, her voice quivering with an-\nguish, \"the corpse is bleeding from 'the nose.\"\nThen I cursed her.\nOn the morning of the third day there was a heavy fall of\nsnow. About eleven o'clock I observed that the house was\nfilled with blacks, and mutes, and folk of the county, who\ncame for the obsequies. I went into the library and sat\nstill, and waited. Soon came the men, and they closed the"}, {"page_pdf": 9, "page_imprimee": "1171", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.9", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 506, "texte": "lid of the coffin and bore it out on their shoulders. And yet\nI sat, feeling rather sadly that something of mine had been\ntaken away: I could not quite think what. For half an hour\nperhaps—dreaming—dreaming: and then I glided to the\nhall door. There was no trace left of the funeral; but after\na while I sighted a black thread winding slowly across the\nwhite plain.\n\"I'm not dead,\" I moaned, and rubbed my face in the pure\nsnow and tossed it on my neck and hair. \"Sweet God, I am\nnot dead.\""}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-10-25-01-c012", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01#c012", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "1171", "page_fin": "1171", "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=bmtnaaq19161025-01.2.11", "titre_corps": "Art", "titre_sommaire": "Art", "signature_source": "Kuprin", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 9, "page_imprimee": "1171", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.9", "debut_caractere": 508, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1026, "texte": "Art\nBy Kuprin\nONCE an ingenious sculptor was asked:\n\"Is there any concordance between art and revolu-\ntion to be found?\"\nHe drew aside a green curtain and said:\n\"Look!\"\nHe indicated a marble figure, which represented a slave,\nwho with a frightful effort of the muscles of his entire body,\ntries to break his fetters.\nAnd one of the spectators said:\n\"How beautiful it is!\"\nAnother one said:\n\"How truthful it is!\"\nBut the third one exclaimed:\n\"Oh, now I understand the joy of struggle!\"\nFrom the Russian by Anna Stavsky."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-10-25-01-c013", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01#c013", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "1171", "page_fin": "1171", "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=bmtnaaq19161025-01.2.12", "titre_corps": "From an Old English Chap Book", "titre_sommaire": "From an Old English Chap Book", "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": "1171", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.9", "debut_caractere": 1028, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1057, "texte": "From an Old English Chap Book"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-10-25-01-c014", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01#c014", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "1171", "page_fin": "1171", "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=bmtnaaq19161025-01.2.13", "titre_corps": "A Scandal", "titre_sommaire": "A Scandal", "signature_source": "Doris Lester", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 9, "page_imprimee": "1171", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.9", "debut_caractere": 1059, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1236, "texte": "A Scandal\nDoris Lester.\nlinp HE October wind told a story,\nA Which proves that he wasn't well bred;\nI don't know exactly the story he told,\nBut it made all the leaves turn red!\""}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-10-25-01-c016", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01#c016", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "1171", "page_fin": "1171", "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=bmtnaaq19161025-01.2.15", "titre_corps": "A Game", "titre_sommaire": "A Game", "signature_source": "The Fledgling", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 9, "page_imprimee": "1171", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.9", "debut_caractere": 1238, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1806, "texte": "A Game\nThe Fledgling\nHE gave his heart, his very soul.\n(He said he'd win; he'd reach the goal.)\nAnd so—\n\"Pass on thou fool\nThou woman's tool.\nPass on. Pass on.\nBe gone.\"\nHe gave his gold, he gave his all.\n(The cure was rank, as bitter gall.)\nFrom his great height, she let him fall,\nAnd so—\n\"Pass on thou fool,\nThou let love cool.\nPass on. Pass on.\nBe gone.\"\nHe gave his life to learn the game.\n(Compared with this all sports are tame.)\nHe played it wrong so who's to blame?\nAnd now this fool is wise.\n\"O fool?\nYe know thy fate: 'Tis cruel,\nSo pass. Pass on.\nBe gone.\""}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-10-25-01-c017", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01#c017", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "1171", "page_fin": "1171", "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=bmtnaaq19161025-01.2.16", "titre_corps": "Men ripen slowly, woman oTernight.", "titre_sommaire": "Men ripen slowly, woman oTernight.", "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": "1171", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.9", "debut_caractere": 1808, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1960, "texte": "Men ripen slowly, woman oTernight.\nVery cruel is the moral standard of human society; it\nrecognizes dead ones only; it has no hospitals for the\nwounded."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-10-25-01-c018", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01#c018", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "1172", "page_fin": "1172", "image_debut": 10, "image_fin": 10, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.2.17", "titre_corps": "(Theatrical Criticism)", "titre_sommaire": "(Theatrical Criticism)", "signature_source": "Momus", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 10, "page_imprimee": "1172", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.10", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 4456, "texte": "Splitting the Ears of the Groundlings\n(Theatrical Criticism)\nMomus.\nNATURE has its own script of hieroglyphs. For writing\nslates it uses the brains of animals and humans;\nthe higher developed the intellect, the less undecipherable the\nfurrows in the gray matter. In the case of a baby the slates\nare almost even, like those of lower animals. The physiog-\nnomy of the brain of the aging scientific explorer is very\nwrinkled. . . .\nThe wrinkles in the \" brain are real impressions. And the\ntime will arrive when there will be no more space for new\nones. The slates will have been filled with inscriptions.\nThis is also true of the theatrical critic, the impressionist\npar-excellence. Very strong, indeed, must be the impressions\nthat will leave traces in a brain that has been exposed to\ntwo thousand five hundred theatrical productions. I am tell-\ning you now an otherwise well guarded secret of the critical\nfraternity; productions of theatrical ,managers and actors, of\ninferior quality are forgotten by us veteran critics after a\nfew days. They are forgotten practically immediately after\nthey have been registered almost automatically in a morning\npaper after the performance. ... We are growing wise,\nvery, very wise, but we are growing old. . . . With quiet\nregrets we remember those beautiful times when we were\nyoung and foolish and could enjoy, in our youthful enthu-\nsiasm, even amateurishness.\nEvery woman means a feast to a young boy full of lust; for\nevery young theatrical critic, every new production. Once\nhis attitude becomes really critical the charm of his profes-\nsion will have vanished.\nYes, he becomes blase; but he becomes absolutely sure.\nThe things that can excite him, that can break his profes-\nsional lethargy, must be worth while. In the long intervals\nsomething is presented somewhere, that almost urges his\npen into his hand; he receives an impression that intoxi-\ncates him. Still oftener, he will witness the play of actors\nwho will lure him under their spell, like on that evening\nmany years ago, when he saw the play for the first time.\nSuch an actor must have something urgent in his personal-\nity, something very individual. An every day good produc-\ntion leaves the mechanism of the automat uninfluenced. Big\nindividuals are very scarce on the American stage, where\nthe stars are mostly planets without a light of their own, re-\nflecting only the light of their manager.\nSuch real individuality have I seen again a few days\nago, seen with all the enthusiasm of pleasure: William Col-\nlier.\nCollier, next to George M. Cohan, is the impersonation of\nNew York's specific humor. Each gesture of his hand, each\nplay of his features, every trick he uses, in order to make\nthe people in the audience laugh, even the modulation of his\nvoice, are New York's very own products. Something naively\nfresh in his makeup that reminds us of the boys from the\nstreets of New York—yes there must be a gamin de New York.\nAt the same time there is a lot of good naturedness in his im-\npudence, there is something smart that seems to sprout out\nof his home soil, if we are permitted to speak about his home\nsoil: the great White Way being his home. . . .\nFor once we have a chance to enjoy the real Collier; he is\nin a clever company and in a very merry piece: in \"Nothing\nbut the Truth,\" by James Montgomery\n* There is also a warm spot in my heart that belongs to Otis\nSkinner, or shall I say in my old critical brains. His happy\nways, a little bit adventurous and a bit romantic, in the\nmany parts in which I have seen him hopelessly miscast,\nI have not forgotten. He plays now in \"Mr. Antonio\" in the\nLyceum, a wholly impossible hurdy-gurdy man. It is Booth\nTarkington's creation. Very childish. The figure itself is\nimpossible, so visibly impossible that the glaring footlights\nturn it ridiculous. And notwithstanding this he fascinates\none (for seconds only); his make-up is an elaborated trick\nand above all his tenor. But the managers, who make him\ndive in this terrible sentimental syrup of Tarkington's produc-\ntion,wanted his ruin.\nFalse tunes that sound in a theatrical production are worse\nthan false tunes on a piano; they offend our reason; but\nlamentably few people have reason. The very sympathetic\nold lady, who was seated next to me during the perform-\nance, I overheard whispering to her daughter: \"Oh its fine,\nits very human.\"\n\"Inhuman,\" whispered the automat in my brains, the\nbrains of an old critic."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-10-25-01-c020", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01#c020", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "1173", "page_fin": "1174", "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=bmtnaaq19161025-01.2.18", "titre_corps": "Tit-Bits from the Village", "titre_sommaire": "Tit-Bits from the Village", "signature_source": "Renee Lacoste", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 11, "page_imprimee": "1173", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.11", "debut_caractere": 778, "fin_caractere_exclue": 4026, "texte": "Tit-Bits from the Village\nBy Renee Lacoste\nGiovannitti's Theatre\nON the evening of October 10th„ in the Peoples Theatre,\nthe Bowery, Mr. Arturo Giovannitti opened what will\nbe a permanent Italian playhouse, with his own drama \"Ten-\nebre Rosse.\" The play deals with war and love, two sub-\njects which have worried dramatic geniuses for ages. A\nFrench poet refuses to indulge in the more arduous task of\nfighting until his home and country are invaded by the foe.\nHe is overcome by the fundamental trait of self-protection,\nshoulders a rifle and returns to the \"brute state.\" By the\nattendance Mr. Giovannitti is assured of a successful sea-\nson.\nAlbert Spalding\nALBERT SPALDING'S recital at Aeolian Hall, Saturday\nafternoon, October 28th, presents several unusual fea-\ntures of new or seldom played works, among which are\nnumbered two movements of Bach's Suite in E minor, the\nsame master's massive figure in G minor for violin with\nfigured bass, the charming and rarely heard Sonata of Beeth-\noven No. 3, which is so Mozartian in character: a set of\nSwedish Folk Dances arranged by Max Bruch and shorter\npieces by Saint-Saens, Cecil Burleigh and Paganini-Spald-\ning. Andre Benoist will as usual be Mr. Spalding's accom-\npanist.\nRenee Lacoste\nA SMALL mind wandering through the Village a few\nyears ago would have discovered there was hardly a\nplace where the villagers could meet in the evenings. But\nnow there are more places than evenings. Le Chat Noir,\nthe Mad Hatter's, the Liberal Club, the Ink Pot, the Book\nShop, A. Onorati. . . . And there are rumors of the immi-\nnent opening of a cozy little club called The Silver Kay. At\npresent we aren't free to disclose any details, and, as the\nmembership is going to be limited, there is no use of the\n\"outsiders\" gaining too intimate a knowledge of it.\nGeorge Baker's dog \"Babby\" committed suicide at the\nGreenwich Village Inn last Thursday.\n\"Too many strangers,\" he whispered just before he\nbreathed his last. \"This is no longer the old Polly's!\"\nAnd we of the village are disconsolate; we expected\n\"Babby\" to preside at the little notion shop Polly is going\nto establish soon. We had a picture of \"Babby\" standing\nbehind the counter and waiting intelligently upon all cus-\ntomers, supplying them with the required articles. Alas!\nFrank Shay, co-partner in the Washington Square Book\nShop, was unusually busy last Saturday night.\n\"Every time I hear good news about my play,\" said Lily\nWinner, \"I buy books!\"\nLet's hope the play is a success for Frank's sake anyway!\nIt is seldom one of the villagers summons enough energy\nto leave his Bohemian surroundings. George Seldes has set\na bad example by sailing for England, where he expects to\nfinish a novel and gather news for the American press. Poor\nlittle Betty Seldes, flourishing her powder puff, announces\nthat she is a \"war bride.\" By the way, she has been urged\nto induce that powder puff to write its autobiography: how\nit caused more annoyance, surprise, amusement and con-\ntempt among the inhabitants of Lee, Maine, than any other\nphenomenon there last summer; how it was forever being\n\n\"It is a mark of genius to convey many\nthoughts in few words. On the contrary\nsmall minds have the gift of talking much,\nand saying little.\"—Vauvenargues."}, {"page_pdf": 12, "page_imprimee": "1174", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.12", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1171, "texte": "lost, found in the most absurd hiding places; and, notwith-\nstanding its perilous adventures, is again among us.\nHelen Criswell arid Matilda Spence surprised us all by\nannouncing they have joined the American Women's League\nfor Home Defence. Every Thursday night they don compli-\ncated uniforms, but they have refrained from wearing them\nin the Village out of respect for the feelings of those among\ntheir friends who don't believe in militarism.\nThe well known Christine and Louise . Coons promise to\ngive the best of food in their new restaurant in West Tenth\nstreet. There will be dancing and a room where those ad-\ndicted to it can discuss the problems of their souls. A\nformal opening was announced for Wednesday the eigh-\nteenth, and the \"Who's Who\" of the Village intended to be\nthere under the benevolent guardianship of Jack McGrath,\nthe übiquitous Father of the Village.\nDon't let those who are looking for studios in Washington\nSquare feel discouraged on hearing that Grace Godwin and\nher family have taken quarters here. There are still a few\nplaces left. However, we are indebted to Grace for bringing\nsome of the sunshine back to the Square."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-10-25-01-c022", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01#c022", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "1173", "page_fin": "1173", "image_debut": 11, "image_fin": 11, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.2.19", "titre_corps": "Potter's Clay", "titre_sommaire": "Potter's Clay", "signature_source": "Ernest M. Hunt", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 11, "page_imprimee": "1173", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.11", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 776, "texte": "Potter's Clay\nBy Ernest M. Hunt\nMirth\nI HAVE come to rest\nin the churchyard\nalone.\nSome day I will be buried here.\nWhen the little roots reach down and tickle me under\nthe ribs, will I laugh?\nLove\nSome say, \"Go that way.\"\nOthers, \"Come this way.\"\nI will wait for you.\nContemplation\nI am tired,\ntoo tired to sleep.\nI sit\nrelaxed, eyes closed.\nThe train rattles and bumps along;\nmy body is without feeling—\nmy spirit hovers above it.\nSome day it floats thus.\nIt will see a child suffering afar off,\nbeyond the help of human hands or brains;\nit will fly to ease the child—\nand I will die.\nGarden\nMy neighbor has a garden—\nscarlet geraniums in red tubs.\nWhitewashed stones.\nPick them up.\nThrow them.\nHit the dumpy hydrangeas—\nfaces swollen with mumps\nand bandaged."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-10-25-01-c023", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01#c023", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "1174", "page_fin": "1174", "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=bmtnaaq19161025-01.2.20", "titre_corps": "Departure", "titre_sommaire": "Departure", "signature_source": "L. H", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 12, "page_imprimee": "1174", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.12", "debut_caractere": 1173, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1624, "texte": "Departure\nL. H.\nTHE huge bulk quivers and the hawsers strain\nUntil unloosed, the great ship slips to sea\nBearing the friend who is so dear to all\nTo where the flattened adders of the deep\nLie hidden, till they launch their venom out\nIn softly-speeding messengers of death.\nWave, O my hand! smile, O my lips! O voice,\nRing forth your laughing shouts of raillery!\nO saving pride, guard well my traitor eyes\nThat they fill not!—She has the right to weep."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-10-25-01-c024", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01#c024", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "1174", "page_fin": "1174", "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=bmtnaaq19161025-01.2.21", "titre_corps": "Adventure", "titre_sommaire": "Adventure", "signature_source": "Dora Grant", "controle": "bornes données par la structure logique METS/ALTO de Blue Mountain (blocs ALTO de chaque constituant)", "pages": [{"page_pdf": 12, "page_imprimee": "1174", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.12", "debut_caractere": 1626, "fin_caractere_exclue": 3630, "texte": "Adventure\nDora Grant.\nTHE setting is very vague in my memory. The yellow\nshades were drawn to the sills and the polished floor\nstretched off dimly into the corners. Faces there were, but I\n•could not see them. The sounds were clearer. I remember\nthe murmur of our voices, the thrash of the hall outside, and\nthe loud hum of the brass tea-kettle. My eyes rested for a\nmoment on the blue flame fanning under the kettle. Them\nI must have turned away, but from that instant every second\nis stamped on my mind with hideous accuracy. First, there\nwas a gentle sputter. Then a sheet of yellow flame quivered\nbefore my eyes. I opened my mouth and immediately tasted\nalcohol on my tongue. I raised my hands to my face and\nfound it wet. The yellow sheet had split into orange tongues\nthat hissed over my ears and crackled in my hair. They\nwere very hot. I was mad with fear and beat my head with\nmy palms. The alcohol streamed into my mouth and I\ncould taste it in my throat, searing me with its touch. Some-\nhow Iran with my eyes shut and my breath coming in gasps\nthat hurt. I fell once, but the orange tongues danced on\nmy eyelids and I struggled to rise. Voices broke in now.\nThey roared and bellowed about me. Through it I heard the\nthin crackle of breaking china. My face tingled. I tried to\nspeak but my tongue was filling my mouth to the roof and\nI could not move. I seemed to gurgle in my throat. A thou-\nsand needles were pricking my face and throat—red-hot\nneedles. They bit into the flesh till in agony I pressed my\nhands over my face. The skin slipped under my fingers. I\ncould not open my eyes. They stung and boiled in their\nsockets, but the lids were glued down. I rose unsteadily\nand leaned against something. I raised one hand to my\nhead and my fingers closed on a dry brittle mass that\ncrumbled at my touch. I raised the other hand and laugh-\ning in my throat, pulled handful after handful from my\nhead, laughing the more as it became dust in my grasp.\nThat was all—I have not seen myself since."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-10-25-01-c025", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01#c025", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "[1164]", "page_fin": "[1164]", "image_debut": 2, "image_fin": 2, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.2.22", "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": 2, "page_imprimee": "[1164]", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.2", "debut_caractere": 232, "fin_caractere_exclue": 577, "texte": "OSCAR WILDE\nHIS LIFE AND CONFESSIONS\nBy FRANK HARRIS\nFrank Harris (Publisher) A\n3 Washington Square,^eiv York City.\nSir:—Enclosed please find $ —> for which send to the\nundersigned. copies of the autographed edition ($20.00 per set) of\nOscar Wilde, by Frank Harris, and copies of the regular limited edition at\n$10.00 per set.\nName —— —\nA ddress"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-10-25-01-c026", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01#c026", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "[1164]", "page_fin": "[1164]", "image_debut": 2, "image_fin": 2, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.2.23", "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": 2, "page_imprimee": "[1164]", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.2", "debut_caractere": 579, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1224, "texte": "TO YOU, GENTLE READER\nKindly give your standing order for Bruno'*\nWeekly to your newsdealer, if you do not\nwish to send us directly a subscription. Tlie\npresent paper prices are such that it\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 ha?e missed on the news-\nstands.\n\\\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-1916-10-25-01-c027", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01#c027", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "[1164]", "page_fin": "[1164]", "image_debut": 2, "image_fin": 2, "pages_selon": "pagination imprimée relevée dans le METS Blue Mountain (ORDERLABEL) ; [n] = page sans folio restituée", "url_article": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.2.24", "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": 2, "page_imprimee": "[1164]", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.2", "debut_caractere": 1226, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2025, "texte": "THE EGOIST\nAn Individualist Review\nPresent Features\nLingual Psychology: a series of subtle and illuminating\narticles forking out a new conception of the function of\nphilosophic inquiry — by Miss Dora Marsden (started in\nJuly number).\nLiterary criticism, reviews and other prose articles.\nParis chronicle and a series of articles on modern French\nprose writers by Madame Ciotkowska.\nDialogues of Fontenelle translated by M. Ezra Pound\n(started in May number).\nTarr, a brilliant modern novel by W. Wyndham Lewis\nMeaden of the English \"Vorticist\" group (started in April\nnumber).\nPoems by young English and American poets — mostly\nbelonging to the Imagist group.\nPublished Monthly\nPrice — Fifteen cents a number\nYearly subscription, one dollar sixty cents\nOakley House, Bloomsbury Street,\nLondon, W. C."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-10-25-01-c028", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01#c028", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "1174", "page_fin": "1174", "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=bmtnaaq19161025-01.2.25", "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": 12, "page_imprimee": "1174", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.12", "debut_caractere": 3632, "fin_caractere_exclue": 3871, "texte": "Next issue of Bruno's Weekly will contain\nFRANK HARRIS AS MAGAZINE EDITOR\nAn intimate visit to the workshop of one of the greatest writers in the English language; who\nhappens to live in Washington Square, the capitol of Greenwich Village."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-10-25-01-c029", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01#c029", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "1174", "page_fin": "1174", "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=bmtnaaq19161025-01.2.26", "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": 12, "page_imprimee": "1174", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.12", "debut_caractere": 3873, "fin_caractere_exclue": 3966, "texte": "l>Ct\nMUSHROOMS By Alfred Kreymborg\n75 Cents Postpaid\nBruno's Weekly,lnc. 58 Washington Square"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-10-25-01-c030", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01#c030", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "1175", "page_fin": "1175", "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=bmtnaaq19161025-01.2.27", "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": 13, "page_imprimee": "1175", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.13", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 166, "texte": "\" ieUyour Authors, books dre nowsD stale.\nThai penny His?ries make a better sale *\nNICHOLAS BRETON,\n(Slightly altered)\nFrom an Old English Chap Book ."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-10-25-01-c031", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01#c031", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "1175", "page_fin": "1175", "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=bmtnaaq19161025-01.2.28", "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": 13, "page_imprimee": "1175", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.13", "debut_caractere": 168, "fin_caractere_exclue": 589, "texte": "Bruno Chap Books.\nTwenty-eight booklets containing the most interesting work of the most unique writers of the past\ntwenty-five years. ;\nPrices ranging from fifteen cents to fifty cents. \\\nWrite for catalogue and send one one-cent stamp. It contains the story of Bruno's Garrett from a\npublic grave digger's tool house to the exhibition gallery of modern artists' work.\nBruno's Weekly, 58 Washington Square, New York City"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-10-25-01-c032", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01#c032", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "1175", "page_fin": "1175", "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=bmtnaaq19161025-01.2.29", "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": 13, "page_imprimee": "1175", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.13", "debut_caractere": 591, "fin_caractere_exclue": 947, "texte": "RARE BOOKS FIRST EDITIONS\nExtra Illustrated Books. Early Printed Books. Association Books. Books for Christmas Gifts.\nPurchased singly or in sets for people who have neither time nor opportunity to select for themselves,\nlor for those who have not access to the best book marts. Why not begin collecting now?\nAddress, E. V. Boston Transcript, Boston, Mass."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-10-25-01-c033", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01#c033", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "1176", "page_fin": "1176", "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=bmtnaaq19161025-01.2.30", "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": "1176", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.14", "debut_caractere": 16, "fin_caractere_exclue": 145, "texte": "R. EDERHEIMER PRINT CABINET\n366 FIFTH AVE., NEW YORK\nOriginal Drawings by Old Masters\nALL APPRECIATIVE VISITORS CORDIALLY INVITED"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-10-25-01-c034", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01#c034", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "1176", "page_fin": "1176", "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=bmtnaaq19161025-01.2.31", "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": "1176", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.14", "debut_caractere": 147, "fin_caractere_exclue": 673, "texte": "What great authors think of marriage.\nIbsen, Bernhard Shaw, Max Nordau, Tolstoy, H.\nG. Wells. Will the home survive?\nA unique book of 250 pages, bound in cloth,\nfifty-five cents postpaid.\nThe Evolution of Modern Orchestration.\nIt is not only a valuable reference book for a\nmusician but a little journey to the homes of\nmusicans and composers of the world for a layman.\nPublished by the MacMillan Company, royal quarto,\nbound in cloth, 280 pages.\nOne dollar five cents; sent anywhere.\nBRESLOW'S BOOK STORE\n123 East 23rd Street"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-10-25-01-c035", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01#c035", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "1176", "page_fin": "1176", "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=bmtnaaq19161025-01.2.32", "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": "1176", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.14", "debut_caractere": 675, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1377, "texte": "14 Stories by Maupassant,\nFor 25 cents postpaid\nStories of the Tragedy and Comedy of Life, with\nan Introduction by Paul Bourget. Prettily printed in\nlarge type on superior paper, with illustrations in color\nby Clare Victor Dwiggins. 16mo, stiff dark green\npaper cover, rough edges. (196 pages.) New York,\nM. Walter Dunne, 1914. (Pub. 50 cents.)\nComprises the following short stories: The False\nGems; Was it a Dream?; Simon's Paper; In the Moon-\nlight; The Old Maid; The Lancer's Wife; The Sequel\nto a Divorce; The Englishwoman; Sentiment; The\nFishermen; In his Sweetheart's Livery; Bertha; Dis-\ncovery; and A Message of Love.\nCONDOR'S BOOK STORE\n366 Fifth Ave.\nWrite for interesting catalogue of books."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-10-25-01-c036", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01#c036", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "1176", "page_fin": "1176", "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=bmtnaaq19161025-01.2.33", "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": "1176", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.14", "debut_caractere": 1379, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1727, "texte": "American Thumb Prints\nMettle of Our Men and Women;\nSketches of American Woman;\nThis book was published by J. B. Lippincott Co., is\nbound in cloth, 55 cents postpaid.\nThe Pleasures of Literature and the\nSolace of Books with introduction\nBy Andrew Lang\nA choice book for the booklover and book-hunter.\n55 cents postpaid.\nFRANK BENDER, 128 Fourth Ave."}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-10-25-01-c037", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01#c037", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "1176", "page_fin": "1176", "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=bmtnaaq19161025-01.2.34", "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": "1176", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.14", "debut_caractere": 1729, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1752, "texte": "MONSIEUR\nD'EN BROCHETTE"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-10-25-01-c038", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01#c038", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "1176", "page_fin": "1176", "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=bmtnaaq19161025-01.2.35", "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": "1176", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.14", "debut_caractere": 1754, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2015, "texte": "Being\nAn Historical Account of Some of the\nAdventures of Huevos Pasada Par Agua,\nMarquis of Pollio Grille, Count of Pate\nde Fbie Gras, and Much Else Besides.\nBY\nBert Leston Taylor\nArthur Hamilton Folwell\nand\nJohn Kendrick Bangs\nIllustrated by Frank A. Nankivell"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-10-25-01-c039", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01#c039", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "1176", "page_fin": "1176", "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=bmtnaaq19161025-01.2.36", "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": "1176", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.14", "debut_caractere": 2017, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2109, "texte": "NEW YORK\nMC M V\nKEPPLER & SCHWARZMANN\n50 CENTS POSTPAID\nHARRY STONE\n137 Fourth Ave. New York"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-10-25-01-c040", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01#c040", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "1176", "page_fin": "1176", "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=bmtnaaq19161025-01.2.37", "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": "1176", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.14", "debut_caractere": 2111, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2184, "texte": "VOLUME II\nBRUNO'S WEEKLY\nBound in white linen cloth\nTWO DOLLARS, postpaid"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-10-25-01-c041", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01#c041", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "[1177]", "page_fin": "[1177]", "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=bmtnaaq19161025-01.2.38", "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": "[1177]", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.15", "debut_caractere": 364, "fin_caractere_exclue": 1820, "texte": "ROSSI BROTHERS\n58 Washington Square\nUnderneath the Garret\nICE CREAM AND TOBACCO\nFLORENCE GOUGH\nShows Smart Millinery for Grown Ups—M#>thw\nGoose's Millinery for Children and other unique\nthings to wear.\nTHE PAINT BOX\n150 W. 4th St., Near 6th Ave.\nN. 7. C. Phone Spring 23\nThe Mad Hatter Has a Tea Party Every Aftei\nfrom 3 to 6 at\n150 WEST FOURTH STREET\nJust Down the Rabbit Hole From Washington Squas*\n\"Take Some More Tea\"\n\"I've Had Nothing Yet So I Can't Take More\"\nYou Mean You Can't Take Less, It's Very Easy to\nTake More Than Nothing.\"\n\"Nobody Asked Your Opinion\" Edith Unger.\nn\n$1.45\nand\n$1,95\nWEAR\nMILAN'S HATS\nMade in Italy\nBest in the World\nBleeker Street\nNear West Broadway\nNew York\nCIRCULATING LIBRARY OF FRENCH NOVELS\nEUREKA BOOK SHOP\n15 Bible House\nv..\nAstor Place, Cor. 3rd Ave., New York.\nFacing Cooper Union\nBooklovers and Collectors Are Welcome\nBeing a book\nIN WHICH\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.\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\nPhone: Stuyvesant 4570\nA postal will bring you, with our compliments,\nan interesting little biography of Mr. Thos. A.\nEdison.\nI"}]}, {"article_id": "bm-bmtnaaq-1916-10-25-01-c042", "article_bluemountain": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01#c042", "volume": "bmtnaaq_1916-10-25_01", "ocr_source": "OCR Blue Mountain (ALTO), transcription TEI : lignes lb/@facs", "texte_sans_correction": true, "page_debut": "[1178]", "page_fin": "[1178]", "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=bmtnaaq19161025-01.2.39", "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": "[1178]", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.16", "debut_caractere": 0, "fin_caractere_exclue": 2005, "texte": "Va\n¥\n.'IV-\n&\n■^1\n?gy®\\v\n■..\n-S-\nHarrison Fisher: $7.50\n&\ni r^-S.\ny\nj\n$6.00\ny, *-:<;>\nr i/.sW\n■wr?vd\n<§?r\"\n£\ng»sa\n*?■}\nto\nrrr\nT*\nfH\nAUjtcr\nJlwidnjKe /\n*ov\nKg\n/v\nf< :\nS£S\nJV\nX\n\\\nsg£?\nK\nS?\n; ■\"\"• j\njfaus r;\nBirch: $12.00\n$5.00\nSIXTY THOUSAND ORIGINAL\nDRAWINGS OF AMERICAN\nILLUSTRATORS\nRose O'Neil, Opper, Harrison Fisher, Barton, Cassel\nPughes, Hassmann, Crawford, and Many Other\nAmerican and Foreign Illustrators Whose Drawings\nHave Appeared in the Foremost American Illustrated\nMagazines from 1880 up to Date\ny HAVE purchased the original drawings and\n1 paintings which you have seen reproduced on\nthe pages of Puck and other prominent periodicals\nduring the last thirty-six years. They are a splendid\ncollection of the early work and of the best work\nof America's foremost artists. They show the\nevolution of the American comic paper from its\ninfancy to its present standard as well as the in-\ndividual evolution of the artists. They are an\nunique kaleidoscope of the manifold interests of\npublic opinion during the last two score years.\nThere is the period where New York with its cease-\nless building underground, overground and on the\nsurface was the target of constant banter. There\nare the political cartoons, a conclusive demonstra-\ntion why Cleveland or Roosevelt or Taft had to be\nelected and why Bryan and Roosevelt were\ndefeated.\nRARELY will there be an opportunity again to\npurchase these originals, welcome in the den,\nin the library of a private home, and appropriate\non the walls of public libraries, of museums and of\npublic schools, at such low prices as I am offering\nthem now. Many are priced as low as twenty-five\ncents. Only a few are marked higher than ten\ndollars.\nYou are invited to call at my store and view the\ncollection leisurely or inquire about the work of\nillustrators you like. I will gladly quote you\npictures and prices.\nHARRY STONE,\nBOOKS and DRAWINGS\n137 FOURTH AVENUE, NEW YORK\nFor Three Dollars I will send you post-paid Ten Original Drawings of American Illustrators."}]}], "pages_ocr_originales": [{"page_pdf": 1, "page_imprimee": "couv. 1", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.1", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\nEDITED BY GUIDO BRUNO IN HIS GARRET ON\nWASHINGTON SQUARE\nTen Cents October 25th 1916\n\nVan Gough"}, {"page_pdf": 2, "page_imprimee": "[1164]", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.2", "texte": "Copyright by Guido Bruno, October 25th, 1916. Original\nmatter, including all drawings, may not be reproduced with-\nout permission of Guido Bruno; but that permission may\nfee assumed if credit is given to author and Bruno's Weekly.\n\nOSCAR WILDE\nHIS LIFE AND CONFESSIONS\nBy FRANK HARRIS\nFrank Harris (Publisher) A\n3 Washington Square,^eiv York City.\nSir:—Enclosed please find $ —> for which send to the\nundersigned. copies of the autographed edition ($20.00 per set) of\nOscar Wilde, by Frank Harris, and copies of the regular limited edition at\n$10.00 per set.\nName —— —\nA ddress\n\nTO YOU, GENTLE READER\nKindly give your standing order for Bruno'*\nWeekly to your newsdealer, if you do not\nwish to send us directly a subscription. Tlie\npresent paper prices are such that it\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 ha?e missed on the news-\nstands.\n\\\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\nTHE EGOIST\nAn Individualist Review\nPresent Features\nLingual Psychology: a series of subtle and illuminating\narticles forking out a new conception of the function of\nphilosophic inquiry — by Miss Dora Marsden (started in\nJuly number).\nLiterary criticism, reviews and other prose articles.\nParis chronicle and a series of articles on modern French\nprose writers by Madame Ciotkowska.\nDialogues of Fontenelle translated by M. Ezra Pound\n(started in May number).\nTarr, a brilliant modern novel by W. Wyndham Lewis\nMeaden of the English \"Vorticist\" group (started in April\nnumber).\nPoems by young English and American poets — mostly\nbelonging to the Imagist group.\nPublished Monthly\nPrice — Fifteen cents a number\nYearly subscription, one dollar sixty cents\nOakley House, Bloomsbury Street,\nLondon, W. C."}, {"page_pdf": 3, "page_imprimee": "[1165]", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.3", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\nEdited by Guido Bruno in His Garret on Washington Square\nNo. 19\nOCTOBER, 25th MCMXVI\nVol. 11l\nCopyright 1916, by Guido Bruno\n\nEldorado\nEdgar Allan Poe.\nGaily bedight,\nA gallant knight,\nIn sunshine and in shadow,\nHad journeyed long,\nSinging a song,\nIn search of Eldorado.\nBut he grew old,\nThis knight so bold,\nAnd o'er his heart a shadow\nFell as he found\nNo spot of ground\nThat looked like Eldorado.\nAnd, as his strength\nFailed him at length,\nHe met a pilgrim shadow;\n\"Shadow\" said he,\n\"Where can it be,\nThis land of Eldorado?\"\n\"Over the mountains\nOf the moon,\nDown the valley of the shadow,\nRide, boldly ride,\"\nThe shade replied—\n\"If you seek for Eldorado!\"\n\nHave You Ever Seen Your Double in\na Painting?\n\nSOMEWHERE in this world is your double—a human\nbeing whose face resembles yours as the likeness\nstaring at you from the mirrors when you shave in the\nmorning or try to adjust that obstinate veil in just the\npeculiar way you wish to have it.\nThe characteristic lines about your mouth, the twinkle\nin the eye your friends tell you is just your own, also\nare there in the face of your double. He or she wears\nthe hair as you do, trims the mustache or beard as you\nare in the habit of wearing them, has your walk, and\neven your taste in dress. Your friends would mistake\nthis person for yourself should they meet him on the\nstreet and you yourself would stare with unbelieving\neyes and murmur, \"Marvelous!\"\nNature is mysteriously simple or simply mysterious.\nThe philosopher confronted with the question might\nmartyr his brains and after protracted pondering come\nto the conclusion:\n\"Why, there is nothing new in this world. Doubles\nexisted thousands of years ago. They exist today. They\nwill exist tomorrow and ever. How? Why? And\nwherefore? That is a mystery of nature.\nPaintings That Look Like You\nThen how can you help but look at it still as an un-\nsolved puzzle—one of nature's pranks—if you should\nlearn that your likeness is exhibited among the most\ncostly paintings of some ancient master—the pride of\nan art gallery whose owner paid a fabulous price for\nthe canvas?\nThere was an exihibition of paintings by contemporary\nSpanish artists in the Art institute. Among the can*-\nvasses exhibited was \"Manolita,\" a young Spanish girl\nwith dark hair, parted in the middle and covering the\nears. The severe beauty of simple purity attracted at\nfirst, then made the onlooker return to glance at it again.\nMany praised it as the best painting ever exhibited by\nHermoso Martinez.\nMartinez painted \"Manolita\" from a living model in\nhis Spanish home town. What mysterious connection\nhas the model of the Spanish painter in the mountains of\nAndalusia with the proprietress of a delicatessen-store\non North Clark street, Chicago.\nMrs. Skelley has the same deeply set eyes as \"Mano-\nlita.\" Should she doff the clothes of the Chicago busi-\nness woman and discard from her mind the eternal prob-\nlem of buying and selling and live somewhere on a\nhigh mountain in green nature her eyes would surely\nhave that far away, dreamy look which makes Martinez's\npicture distinctive.\nAnd on the other hand, if the Spanish duanitta should\nexchange her mantilla for the shirtwaist of a Chicagoan,\nif she should attempt to buy and dispose of food at a\nprofit, her face would soon show the same determina-\ntion and the same deep lines characteristic of Mrs.\nSkelley's face.\nChicagoan Like a Rembrandt\nRembrandt once painted the likeness of Christian\nPaul Van Beeresteyn. It hung over the mantel of the\nancestral hall in the Chateau Maurik, near Vecht.\nChristian Paul was burgomaster of Delft for a term of\nyears and at the time the painting was originated by\nRembrandt he seemed to be at the height of his career.\nIt was in 1632. The Beeresteyns had seen their best\ndays. Grandsons squandered the fortunes of grand\nfathers who had provided well for them.\nIn 1884 the property of the old family was sold at\npublic auction. Among the silver and gold and most\nprecious things the appraiser had found in the deserted\nhalls of the ancient castle a genuine Rembrandt. The\ngood judgment Christian Paul had shown nearly three\nhundred years before in selecting the artist to paint his\nlikeness meant a fortune to his descendants.\nAn American was the highest bidder at the auction\nsale. For $75,000 he called the masterpiece his own.\nHe took it to New York and exhibited it in the Metro-\npolitan museum. Thousands came to see and admire the"}, {"page_pdf": 4, "page_imprimee": "1166", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.4", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\n$75,000 picture which had found its way to the new\nworld.\nAnd among those thousands was one who also looked\nat the painting. It appeared to him like some one he\nhad known years before. He returned again.\n\"Doesn't it look like Vladimir Shamberk of Chicago?\"\nIt did.\nThe Van Dyke beard, the genially touselei hair, the\ntwo characteristic lines from the nostrils to the corners\nof the mouth, the high forehead—all appeared just like\na painting for which the Chicago artist might have sat.\nWhat a startling coincidence! The Bohemian artist\nhad come to Chicago and painted the most famous canvas\nthat ever glorified a son of Bohemia—that enormous\ndeath bed scene of the composer, Smetana, which he\nnamed 'Too Late.\" This artist resembled the Dutch\nburgomaster whose only memorable deed was to have his\nportrait painted by Rembrandt.\nBoth found recognition in the new world.\nSteele the Double of Edward VII\nPercival Steele, a Chicago lawyer, takes delight in\nrelating an incident that took place in Yellowstone park\nwhen a member of the German embassy and Canadian\ntourists mistook him for the Prince of Wales, later King\nEdward VII. \\\nIt was in the fall of 1898 when Mr. Steele, accom-\npanied by a few men, visited the Yellowstone. A party\nof Englishmen, Canadians, and attaches of the German\nembassy at Washington had cheered Mr. Steele for a\nlong time and they seemed to be puzzled about some-\nthing.\nThe same curious looks greeted him in the dining\nroom of the hotel and later on the observation car of a\ntrain. On returning from a short outing to the hotel he\nwas informed by the registry clerk that the party of\nEnglishmen had believed him to be the Prince of Wales\nand had made inquiries as to his identity.\nMr. Steele was mistaken similarly on frequent trips\nto Canada, which furnished occasions for many hearty\nlaughs.\nIndifference, a pleasant smile, a passing thought\nabout nature's unfathomable ways result in most cases\nwhen doubles meet in every day life. Mrs. Skelley was\nsurprised and pleased to see her Spanish likeness ad-\nmired by the thousands of visitors of the Art institute.\nProf. Vladimir Shamberk gazed a long time at the re-\nproduction of Rembrandt's painting which looked so\nmuch like himself. He shook his head and murmured:\n\" Extraordinary! Extraordinary!\" Mr. Steele was\npleased with his recollections of being mistaken for the\nlate king of the Britons.\nSudden Light of Face Fatal\nBut here are instances where the sudden appearance\nof a face, long forgotten, proved fatal. Conscience\nwhich had slumbered for years was put through the\nthird degree. On October 15, 1890, the morning papers\nof Paris carried a story of a theft in the Louvre. The\nstolen painting was a little canvas, 10 x 12 inches. It\nwas unsigned and had been kept in the Louvre only for\nits striking beauty.\nIt was the face of a girl, about 18 years of age, with\nbig blue eyes and blonde curls over the fresh, white\nforehead, a dimple in the left cheek, and a little me-\ndallion on a gold chain about the youthful neck. It\nhad been bequeathed to the Louvre, among valuable\npaintings, and the commission had decided to keep it.\nIt was a mystery. No one would have paid more than\nperhaps $20 for the picture.\nThe Matin carried the testimony of one of the mu-\nseum guards. It related to an old, thin man in clean\nbut shabby clothes, who for months had been a daily\nvisitor in the gallery where the picture hung. He had\nspent hours before the painting. But the incident was\nsoon forgotten and the painting was not found for many\nyears.\nIt was years afterward on a Christmas morning ia\n1899. A man had swung himself over the rail of the\nPont de Neuf and the Seine had washed him out. He\nwas an ugly little man in ragged clothes with a long\nbeard and long, uncombed hair. He was taken to the\nmorgue.\nPicture Resembled Lost Daughter\nHis clothes were searched. The pockets were empty.\nBut tied to hte body was a little roll, carefully wrapped\nin oil cloth. A picture and a letter were found in the\nroll.\nThe letter told the story of a father who had lost his\nwife and whose pleasure for years had been to take her\nlikeness, his liltle daughter, on Sundays to the outlying\ncemetery. The girl had grown up. She was beautiful.\nOne night the father came home and the supper was\nnot prepared. His daughter was gone. A long night\nof hope and despair did not bring her back and days\nwere spent in a vain search for her. He lost interest in\nlife and business. Once he saw her on the street. Her\nface and her clothes told him the sad tale. Their eyes\nmet and she turned away, jumped into an omnibus, and\nhe never saw her again.\nThe painted cheeks and dark rings beneath the star-\ning eyes haunted him day and night. He could work no\nlonger. He lost his home and he wandered the streets.\nTo warm himself one December morning the father\nsought the shelter of the Louvre. He looked at the\npaintings, at the statues, at the shimmering gems and\nthe ancient jewelry in glass cases. He saw a picture\non the wall. It was the girl's face which resembled his\nAngeline.\nOn each day when the doors were open to the public\nthe little gray haired man made his pilgrimage to the\nLouvre to see the likeness of his daughter. In the note\nin the roll found on his body he pictured how he had\nfought the mad desire to take possession of the little\npiece of canvas. He couldn't resist.\nOne evening he managed to hide himself and be\nlocked up with his Angeline—to be with her during a\nwhole night. He thought of how comforting it would\nbe to have her with him all the time. He took his pen-\nknife and carefully cut the painting from its frame. In\nthe morning it was easy to slip out and disappear\n'Friends refused their help. Without shelter, without\nlove, hugging his treasure to his heart, he tramped the\nstreets. He gave up,hope, decided to die, and the Seine,\nwith her ever open arms, receivd him.\n\nGuido Bruno."}, {"page_pdf": 5, "page_imprimee": "1167", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.5", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nEugene Field's Early Verse\nIn an old scrap book I found the following extract—\nWho knows but in some years to come someone may hap-\npen, in some scrapbook, upon these lines and use them too.\nIN an old scrap book I recently happened upon several\ngracious bits of verse signed by Eugene Field, and\ncredited to several Western papers upon which the hu-\nmorist served his novitiate. These verses have not been\nthought of sufficient importance to incorporate in his\npublished works, but they are interesting to his admirers,\nas they evince a certain facetious trend subsequently\ndeveloped to its maturity. They were mere drifts on\nthe great sea of journalism, and found no snugger\nharbor than the wrinkled pages of a scrap-book.\nDuring the years 1879-81 Field was on the staff of\nthe Kansas City Times. He contributed to the paper\ninnumerable columns of verse, criticsms, humorous\nsketches, jokes, satires—a literary hodge-podge. In\nmy book are many reminiscences of these days. The\nfollowing skit is dated New Year's Day 1880:\nFour young men in an old box sleigh\nWhirling away on the New Year's Day,\nHappy and free as the air were they,\nAnd they laughed\nAnd they chaffed,\n>45 blocks away\nThey merrily sped, their calls to pay.\nFour little maidens in white pekay*—\nMaudie and Bessie and Ruth and May—\nWatched and pined that live long day.\nAnd they moaned\nAnd they groaned\nIn a feminine way,\nWatching in vain for that old box sleigh.\n\\\nFour mad horses running away,\nFour young men in an o'erturned sleigh,\nCorner of \\3th and North Broadway,\nAnd they fussed\nAnd they cussed,\nSpectators say,\nAnd the d 1 generally was to pay.\nPity the youth in that old box sleigh,\nPity the tumble they had that day,\nPity the bills they had to pay,\nBut more than all\nTheir rise and fall\nPity, we pray,\nThe maidens lorn in the white pekay.\nField had a habit of spinning what he called \"Rhym-\ning ribbonry,\" a phrase purely Fieldian, and not to be\nfound in modern dictionaries. This \"Ribbonry\" consist-\ned of curiously constructed lines playing upon words\nin this wise:\nStraight where she strayed, with stride fie strode,\nSad sighed he on the sod and said:\nuSay, see I sigh and sue you so \"\nShe had no heed, but hid her head—\nMaud's mood the mud of mead made mad,\nNo answer knew she now but \"No.\"\nThe swinging measures of the \"Little Peach\" attained\na tremendous popularity a few years ago. During\nField's connection with the Kansas City Times he wrote\na quaint bit of rambling rhyme, in which is traceable\nthe inspiration that produced the tragedy of John and\nhis sister Sue. It is styled the \"Song of the Phillaloo,\"\nof which the first stanza runs:\nHer face was as fair as the noonday bright,\nAnd her eyes were a dreamy blue;\nHer voice was as soft and as sweet and light\nAs the lay of the lark in its fitful flighty\nOr the voice of the Phillaloo—\nToohoo, too hoo.\nThe voice of the Phillaloo.\nThe love of children and reverence for childhood\nwhich characterized such a share of Eugene Field's\nmaturer work was evidenced by much that he wrote in\nhis younger days. When he \"helped to run the local\non the St. Jo. Gazette,\" many tender songs found a\nnesting-place in many a mother's heart. I have before\nme as I write, the.autograph copy of an exquisite bit of\nchild's verse, which I have never seen in print:\nOh, where is little Tiny Toes?\nThat elf with such a roguish nose,\nWhere is he with his golden hair,\n/Is yellow as the sunbeams rare?\nNurse says he isn't anywhere.\nHas no one seen sweet Tiny Toes?\nHe totters, precious, as he goes!\nHe wears the cutest baby clothes!\nAnd now he isn't anywhere!\nDid angels steal him unaware?\nHe's gone, alas, is Tiny Toes,\nWhere, where alas nobody knows!\nAh, cruelest this of all the woes!\nWhafs that? The rogue! His golden hair,\nEyes, nose, and all behind my chair?\nSly rogue was hiding, smiling there!\nThere never can be another Field. Such a diversified\npersonality occurs only once in a cycle. A remarkable\ncombination of contrasting traits, he had a personal\npopularity seldom attained by one man. A mass of con-\ntradictions, he was at heart, a simple, wayward child,\nand it is because of his love for children tftat they look\nupon him as their laureate.\n\n\"Sower\" by Van Gough"}, {"page_pdf": 6, "page_imprimee": "1168", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.6", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nLegend of Hercules\nBy August Strindberg\n\nHERCULES had performed his six wonders and made\nready for the seventh, the cleaning of the stables of\nAugias. This task, while not the hardest, was a most un-\npleasant one; for in that stable for thirty years had dwelt\nthirty thousand oxen, and never had a cleaning shovel inter-\nfered among them. First, Hercules tried broom and shovel.\nThen howled the oxen—imagine thirty thousand oxen: \"Let\nbe that dirt: that is our dirt!\"\n\"The dickens!\" exclaimed Hercules and started to remove\nthe refuse. \"We want to keep our filth,\" howled the oxen\nand showed their horns. But Hercules hit them on the ears\nwith his shovel, bade them keep silence, and unmindful of\nthe odor kept at his task.\n\"Ho, look at the pig!\" jeered the oxen. \"You are the\npigs,\" said Hercules, \"because you are at fault for the dirt\naround here. And lam not to blame if lam soiled by touch-\ning you.\"\nThe oxen were silenced. But now the little bugs, who had\nfor long dwelt in the filthy mess, crawled about. \"Leave\nour filth alone,\" growled they. \"It is not yours, but the\noxen's,\" replied Hercules. \"Yes, but we'll freeze, if you\nremove it.\" \"Then go to work, and you will not freeze.\"\nAnd they went to work. In the night, while Hercules slept,\nthey moved back all the dirt which he had shovelled out dur-\ning the daytime. And when morning dawned, everything\nwas as filthy as before.\nWhen Hercules saw this, his anger was roused. \"Now\nthere is nothing I can do, but put the whole stable under\njwater.\" When the oxen heard him mention water, the which\nthey had not felt in thirty years, they were maddened and\nhowled so loudly, that the miserable bugs who were hiding\nin the darkness, flew up to seek shelter on the broad backs\nof the bovines. But Hercules was not to be balked. He\ndug a trench from the nearest brook and flooded the stable.\n\"He is an enemy of the people,\" wailed the oxen. \"He\nwants to destroy society; he will flood the whole world.\"\n\"That is not true,\" answered Hercules. \"I only want to\nclean up this mess, and I am no enemy of the people, but\na foe to oxen and to parasite bugs who revel in filth.\"\nAfter cleaning up Hercules retired to rest.\n\"How can we take revenge?\" asked the oxen. \"He fears\nnot our horns; have we no other weapons?\" \"Let us throw\ndirt at him,\" urged some. \"That he can wash off,\" said\nothers. So talking and considering, they came to the con-\nclusion that they had no weapons against Hercules.\nBut one of the dirty little bugs, who had listened to their\ntalk, had an idea. \"Put him under water,\" he advised— \"Put\nhim under water, as he did with our stable.\" \"Yes, that's it!\nBut where get the water?\" The bug whispered into the\nox's ear, the ox told his neighbor, and soon all the oxen\nknew how water was to be had.\nHercules suddenly woke, surrounded by a dirty flood, but\nfor reasons easily understood, the flood soon ceased. Her-\ncules grabbed his club and ran to the stable. There he\npondered: \"One would not kill a louse with a bludgeon.\nCould you not have used clean water as I did? But what\nis to be done! Oxen always remain oxen. I will whip you\nfor this dirty work, but don't think I came to seek revenge.\nI came not to avenge myself, but I will punish you.\"\nSo saying he went about and hit the oxen on their hinders.\nBut the filthy parasite bugs he completely ignored.\nTranslated by G. Prager.\n\nMaxim Gorky's Book-Plate\n\nThe Golden Stake\nBy F. Sollogub\nLITTLE VOVA became angry at his father. He said to\nhis nursery-maid:\n\"As soon as I grow up I'll enlist as a general, will come\nto father's house with a cannon, take him prisoner and put\nhim on a stake.\"\nFather, who overheard Vova's threat, said:\n\"Oh, you bad boy! Are you going to set father on a\nstake? Why, it will hurt him.\"\nVova became frightened and answered:\n\"Oh, father, but this stake will be a golden one with an\ninscription: Tor bravery'.\"\nFrom the Russian by Anna Stavsky.\n\nA Song of Pennies\nH. Thompson Rich.\nTHE Poet needs the pennies\nYou spend for chewing-gum,\nAnd \"shoes and ships and sealing-wax,\nWhy don't you give him some?\nIf I had all the pennies\nSome folks have in their cup,\nI'd spend them for potatoes\nTo fill the Poet up! H. Thomps"}, {"page_pdf": 7, "page_imprimee": "1169", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.7", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nFragments from the Public Library in New York City\nJames Waldo Fawcett\nI.— The Entrance\nHT HIS is the door\n* By which we enter in\nThis great white marble mausoleum\nOf dead and dying thoughts.\nCome, let us pause\nA moment;\nPerhaps a bird will come\nTo drink\nFrom the pool\nAt the marble lady's feet!\nII.— The Magazine Room\nTJROM every corner\n* Of the panting earth\nThey come:\nMen who sit\nAt these broad tables\nTurning leaves\nAll day.\nThey are wise.\nMore books are born\nAmong these paper covers\nThan those who write them\nCare to admit, good friend;\nFew books are there\nThat have not once\nBeen merely magazines.\nIII.— The Stack\nrHERE are hundreds\nOf thousands of volumes\nHere in this echoing vault;\nAnd each time these volumes\nHear the attendant's even tread,\nThey pray to their proper god\nEach in his own true tongue\nThat they be chosen.\nAnd when one returns\nFrom the little pilgrimage\nTo the main reading room,\nThe others ask him:\n\"How is the world?\"\nAnd sometimes he replies:\n\"It is grey and cold.\nAn aged professor wanted me.\nThere was something of soup\nIn his beard.\"\nAnd again he may say:\n\"The world is a singing place\nOf sunshine and love;\nI went to the hands of one\nWho is fair as Heloise,\nThe well-beloved of Abelard.\"\nStrange, eager hearts\nWithin these aging volumes . . . .\nIV.— The Stairway\nrP HIS white descent\n* Frightens me;\nIt is so steep\nAnd cold and white.\nSomeday I think\nI shall not resist\nThe subtle temptation\nTo throw myself\nDown the whole long flight\nAnd scatter poppies of scarlet\nOver all this adamantine coldness.\ni •\nV.— The Newspaper Room\nJT was here\n* That I found her secret,—\nHere among these musty old records,\nHere where man aids Gossip\nIn her war with Time.\nv t\nWhy do you live so long?\nYellow sheets of a day,\nWhy linger year on year?\nLearn to forget;\nBe kind.\nVI.— Bryant's Statue\nrT HIS is our humble tribute\n* To the name of him\nWho penned \"The Planting\nOf the Apple Tree.\"\nI wonder sometimes,\nWhen I look on his patient face 3\nIf Robert of Lincoln\nIs singing to him.\n\nThe Book of Bargains\nBy Vincent O'Sullivan\nIV.— When I Was Dead\n\"And yet my heart\nWill not confess he owes the malady\nThat doth my life besiege.\"\n—All's Well that Ends Well.\nTHAT was the worst of Ravenel Hall. The passages were\nlong and gloomy, the rooms were musty and dull, even\nthe pictures were sombre and their subjects dire. On an\nautumn evening, when the wind soughed and wailed through\nthe trees in the park, and the dead leaves whistled and chat-\ntered, while the rain clamoured at the windows, small won-\nder that folk with gentle nerves went a-straying in their wits.\nAn acute nervous system is a grievous burthen on the deck\nof a yacht under sunlit skies; at Ravenel the chain of nerves\nwas prone to clash and jangle a funeral march. Nerves must\nbe pampered in a tea-drinking community; and the ghost\nthat your grandfather, with a skinful of port, could face and\nnever tremble, sets you, in your sobriety, sweating and shiv-\nering; or, becoming scared (poor ghost!) of your bulged\neyes and dropped jaw, he quenches expectation by not ap-\npearing at all. So lam left to conclude that it was tea which\nmade my acquaintance afraid to stay at Ravenel. Even\nWilvern gave over; and as he is in the Guards, and a polo\nplayer, his nerves ought to be strong enough. On the night\nbefore he went I was explaining to him my theory, that if\nyou place some drops of human blood near you, and then\nconcentrate your thoughts, you will after a while see be-\nfore you a man or a woman who will stay with you during\nlong hours of the night, and even meet you at unexpected\nplaces during the day. I was explaining this theory, I\nrepeat, when he interrupted me with words, sense-"}, {"page_pdf": 8, "page_imprimee": "1170", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.8", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nless enough, which sent me fencing and parrying strangers,\n—on my guard.\n\"I say, Alistair, my dear chap!\" he began, \"you ought to\nget out of this place, and go up to town and knock about a\nbit—you really ought, you know.\"\n\"\"Yes,\" I replied, \"and get poisoned at the hotels by bad\nfood,- and at the clubs by bad talk, I suppose. No, thank\nyou: and let me say that your care for my health enervates\nme.\"\n\"Well, you can do as you like,\" says he, rapping with his\nfeet on the floor; \"I'm hanged if I stay here after to-morrow\n—I'll be staring mad if I do!\"\nHe was my last visitor. Some weeks after his departure\nI was sitting in the library with my drops of blood by me.\nI had got my theory nearly perfect by this time; but there\nwas one difficulty.\nThe figure which I had ever before me, was a figure of an\nold woman with her hair divided in the middle; and her hair\nfell to her shoulders, white on one side ana black on the\nother. She was a verp complete old woman; but, alas! she\nwas eyeless, and when I tried to construct the eyes she\nwould shrjvel and rot in my sight. But to-night I was think-\ning, thinking, as I had never thought before, and the eyes\nwere just creeping into the head, when I heard a terrible\n.crash outside as if some heavy substance had fallen. Of a\n?sifMen the door was flung open, and two maid-servants\nThey glanced at the rug under my chair, and at\n&hat they turned a sick white, cried on God, and huddled out.\n\"How dare you enter the library in this manner?\" I de-\nmanded, sternly. No answer came back from them, so I\nin pursuit. I found all the servants of the house\nin a knot at the end of the passage.\n\"Mrs. Pebble,\" I said smartly, to the housekeeper, \"I\nWcant those two women discharged to-morrow. It's an out-\nrage! You ought to be more careful.\"\nBut she was not attending to me. Her face was distorted\nwith terror.\n\"Ah dear, ah dear!\" she went. \"We had better all go\nto the library together,\" says she to the others.\n\"Am I still master of my own house, Mrs. Pebble?\" I in-\nbringing my knuckles down with a bang on a table.\nINone of them seemed to see me or hear me; I might as\nwell have been shrieking in a desert. I followed them down\nthe passage, and forbade them with strong words to enter the\nlibrary. But they trooped past me, and stood with a clutter\nround the hearth-rug. Then three or four of them began\ndragging and lifting, as if they were lifting a helpless body,\nand stumbled with their imaginary burthen over to a sofa.\nOld Soames, the butler, stood near.\n\"Poor young gentleman!\" he saicj, with a sob; \"I've\nknowed him since he was a baby. And to think of him being\ndead like this—and so young too!\"\nI crossed the room. \"What's all this, Soames?\" I cried,\nshaking him roughly by the shoulders. \"I'm not dead, I'm\nhere—here!\" As he did not stir, I got a little scared.\nold friend,\" I called, \"don't you know me? Don't\nyou know the little boy you used to play with? Say I'm not\ndead, Soames, please, Soames!\"\nHe stooped down and kissed the sofa. \"I think one of the\nmen ought to ride over to the village for the doctor, Mr.\nSoames,\" says Mrs. Pebble, and he shuffled out to give the\n& order.\nNow, this doctor was an ignorant dog, whom I had been\nforced to exclude from the house, because he went about\nproclaiming his belief in a saving God, at the same time\nthat he proclaimed himself a man of science. He, I was\nresolved, should never cross my threshold, and I followed\nMrs. Pebble through the house, screaming out prohibition.\nBut I did not catch even a groan from her, not a nod of the\nhead nor cast of the eye, to shew that she had heard.\nI met the doctor at the door of the library. \"Well!\" I\nsneered, throwing my hand in his face, \"have you come to\nteach me some new prayers?\"\nHe brushed by me as if he had not felt the blow, and\nknelt down by the sofa.\n\"Rupture of a vessel on the brain, I think,\" he says to\nSoames and Mrs. Pebble after a moment. \"He has been\ndead some hours. Poor fellow! You had better telegraph\nfor his sister, and I will send up the undertaker to arrange\nthe body.\"\n\"You liar!\" I yelled. \"You whining liar! How have you\nthe insolence to tell my servants that I am dead, when you\nsee me here face to face?\"\nHe was far in the passage, with Soames and Mrs. Pebble\nat his heels, ere I had ended, and not one of the three turned\nround.\nAll that night I sat in the library. Strangely enough, I\nhad no wish to sleep, nor, during the time that followed, had\nI any craving to eat. In the morning the men came, and al-\nthough I ordered them out, they proceeded to minister about\nsomething I could not see . So all day I stayed in the\nlibrary or wandered about the house, and at night the men\ncame again, bringing with them a coffin. Then, in my\nhumour, thinking it shame that so fine a coffin should be\nempty, I lay the night in it, and slept a soft, dreamless\nsleep—the softest sleep I have ever slept. And when the\nmen came the next day, I rested still, and the undertaker\nshaved me. A strange valet!\nOn the evening after that, I was coming down-stairs, when\nI noted some luggage in the hall, and so learned that my\nsister had arrived. I had not seen this woman since her\nmarriage, and I loathed her more than I loathed any crea-\nture in this ill-organized world. She was very beautiful I\nthink—tall, and dark, and straight as a ram-rod—and she\nhad an unruly passion for scandal and dress. I suppose the\nreason I disliked her so intensely was, that she had a habit\nof making one aware of her presence when she was several\nyards off. At half-past nine o'clock my sister came down to\nthe library in a very charming wrap, and I soon found that\nshe was as insensible to my presence as the others. I\ntrembled with rage to see her kneel down by the coffin—\nmy coffin; but when she bent over to kiss the pillow I threw\naway control.\nA knife which had been used to cut string was lying on a\ntable: I seized it and drove it into her neck. She fled from\nthe room screaming.\n\"Come, come!\" she cried, her voice quivering with an-\nguish, \"the corpse is bleeding from 'the nose.\"\nThen I cursed her.\nOn the morning of the third day there was a heavy fall of\nsnow. About eleven o'clock I observed that the house was\nfilled with blacks, and mutes, and folk of the county, who\ncame for the obsequies. I went into the library and sat\nstill, and waited. Soon came the men, and they closed the"}, {"page_pdf": 9, "page_imprimee": "1171", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.9", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nlid of the coffin and bore it out on their shoulders. And yet\nI sat, feeling rather sadly that something of mine had been\ntaken away: I could not quite think what. For half an hour\nperhaps—dreaming—dreaming: and then I glided to the\nhall door. There was no trace left of the funeral; but after\na while I sighted a black thread winding slowly across the\nwhite plain.\n\"I'm not dead,\" I moaned, and rubbed my face in the pure\nsnow and tossed it on my neck and hair. \"Sweet God, I am\nnot dead.\"\n\nArt\nBy Kuprin\nONCE an ingenious sculptor was asked:\n\"Is there any concordance between art and revolu-\ntion to be found?\"\nHe drew aside a green curtain and said:\n\"Look!\"\nHe indicated a marble figure, which represented a slave,\nwho with a frightful effort of the muscles of his entire body,\ntries to break his fetters.\nAnd one of the spectators said:\n\"How beautiful it is!\"\nAnother one said:\n\"How truthful it is!\"\nBut the third one exclaimed:\n\"Oh, now I understand the joy of struggle!\"\nFrom the Russian by Anna Stavsky.\n\nFrom an Old English Chap Book\n\nA Scandal\nDoris Lester.\nlinp HE October wind told a story,\nA Which proves that he wasn't well bred;\nI don't know exactly the story he told,\nBut it made all the leaves turn red!\"\n\nA Game\nThe Fledgling\nHE gave his heart, his very soul.\n(He said he'd win; he'd reach the goal.)\nAnd so—\n\"Pass on thou fool\nThou woman's tool.\nPass on. Pass on.\nBe gone.\"\nHe gave his gold, he gave his all.\n(The cure was rank, as bitter gall.)\nFrom his great height, she let him fall,\nAnd so—\n\"Pass on thou fool,\nThou let love cool.\nPass on. Pass on.\nBe gone.\"\nHe gave his life to learn the game.\n(Compared with this all sports are tame.)\nHe played it wrong so who's to blame?\nAnd now this fool is wise.\n\"O fool?\nYe know thy fate: 'Tis cruel,\nSo pass. Pass on.\nBe gone.\"\n\nMen ripen slowly, woman oTernight.\nVery cruel is the moral standard of human society; it\nrecognizes dead ones only; it has no hospitals for the\nwounded."}, {"page_pdf": 10, "page_imprimee": "1172", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.10", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nSplitting the Ears of the Groundlings\n(Theatrical Criticism)\nMomus.\nNATURE has its own script of hieroglyphs. For writing\nslates it uses the brains of animals and humans;\nthe higher developed the intellect, the less undecipherable the\nfurrows in the gray matter. In the case of a baby the slates\nare almost even, like those of lower animals. The physiog-\nnomy of the brain of the aging scientific explorer is very\nwrinkled. . . .\nThe wrinkles in the \" brain are real impressions. And the\ntime will arrive when there will be no more space for new\nones. The slates will have been filled with inscriptions.\nThis is also true of the theatrical critic, the impressionist\npar-excellence. Very strong, indeed, must be the impressions\nthat will leave traces in a brain that has been exposed to\ntwo thousand five hundred theatrical productions. I am tell-\ning you now an otherwise well guarded secret of the critical\nfraternity; productions of theatrical ,managers and actors, of\ninferior quality are forgotten by us veteran critics after a\nfew days. They are forgotten practically immediately after\nthey have been registered almost automatically in a morning\npaper after the performance. ... We are growing wise,\nvery, very wise, but we are growing old. . . . With quiet\nregrets we remember those beautiful times when we were\nyoung and foolish and could enjoy, in our youthful enthu-\nsiasm, even amateurishness.\nEvery woman means a feast to a young boy full of lust; for\nevery young theatrical critic, every new production. Once\nhis attitude becomes really critical the charm of his profes-\nsion will have vanished.\nYes, he becomes blase; but he becomes absolutely sure.\nThe things that can excite him, that can break his profes-\nsional lethargy, must be worth while. In the long intervals\nsomething is presented somewhere, that almost urges his\npen into his hand; he receives an impression that intoxi-\ncates him. Still oftener, he will witness the play of actors\nwho will lure him under their spell, like on that evening\nmany years ago, when he saw the play for the first time.\nSuch an actor must have something urgent in his personal-\nity, something very individual. An every day good produc-\ntion leaves the mechanism of the automat uninfluenced. Big\nindividuals are very scarce on the American stage, where\nthe stars are mostly planets without a light of their own, re-\nflecting only the light of their manager.\nSuch real individuality have I seen again a few days\nago, seen with all the enthusiasm of pleasure: William Col-\nlier.\nCollier, next to George M. Cohan, is the impersonation of\nNew York's specific humor. Each gesture of his hand, each\nplay of his features, every trick he uses, in order to make\nthe people in the audience laugh, even the modulation of his\nvoice, are New York's very own products. Something naively\nfresh in his makeup that reminds us of the boys from the\nstreets of New York—yes there must be a gamin de New York.\nAt the same time there is a lot of good naturedness in his im-\npudence, there is something smart that seems to sprout out\nof his home soil, if we are permitted to speak about his home\nsoil: the great White Way being his home. . . .\nFor once we have a chance to enjoy the real Collier; he is\nin a clever company and in a very merry piece: in \"Nothing\nbut the Truth,\" by James Montgomery\n* There is also a warm spot in my heart that belongs to Otis\nSkinner, or shall I say in my old critical brains. His happy\nways, a little bit adventurous and a bit romantic, in the\nmany parts in which I have seen him hopelessly miscast,\nI have not forgotten. He plays now in \"Mr. Antonio\" in the\nLyceum, a wholly impossible hurdy-gurdy man. It is Booth\nTarkington's creation. Very childish. The figure itself is\nimpossible, so visibly impossible that the glaring footlights\nturn it ridiculous. And notwithstanding this he fascinates\none (for seconds only); his make-up is an elaborated trick\nand above all his tenor. But the managers, who make him\ndive in this terrible sentimental syrup of Tarkington's produc-\ntion,wanted his ruin.\nFalse tunes that sound in a theatrical production are worse\nthan false tunes on a piano; they offend our reason; but\nlamentably few people have reason. The very sympathetic\nold lady, who was seated next to me during the perform-\nance, I overheard whispering to her daughter: \"Oh its fine,\nits very human.\"\n\"Inhuman,\" whispered the automat in my brains, the\nbrains of an old critic."}, {"page_pdf": 11, "page_imprimee": "1173", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.11", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nPotter's Clay\nBy Ernest M. Hunt\nMirth\nI HAVE come to rest\nin the churchyard\nalone.\nSome day I will be buried here.\nWhen the little roots reach down and tickle me under\nthe ribs, will I laugh?\nLove\nSome say, \"Go that way.\"\nOthers, \"Come this way.\"\nI will wait for you.\nContemplation\nI am tired,\ntoo tired to sleep.\nI sit\nrelaxed, eyes closed.\nThe train rattles and bumps along;\nmy body is without feeling—\nmy spirit hovers above it.\nSome day it floats thus.\nIt will see a child suffering afar off,\nbeyond the help of human hands or brains;\nit will fly to ease the child—\nand I will die.\nGarden\nMy neighbor has a garden—\nscarlet geraniums in red tubs.\nWhitewashed stones.\nPick them up.\nThrow them.\nHit the dumpy hydrangeas—\nfaces swollen with mumps\nand bandaged.\n\nTit-Bits from the Village\nBy Renee Lacoste\nGiovannitti's Theatre\nON the evening of October 10th„ in the Peoples Theatre,\nthe Bowery, Mr. Arturo Giovannitti opened what will\nbe a permanent Italian playhouse, with his own drama \"Ten-\nebre Rosse.\" The play deals with war and love, two sub-\njects which have worried dramatic geniuses for ages. A\nFrench poet refuses to indulge in the more arduous task of\nfighting until his home and country are invaded by the foe.\nHe is overcome by the fundamental trait of self-protection,\nshoulders a rifle and returns to the \"brute state.\" By the\nattendance Mr. Giovannitti is assured of a successful sea-\nson.\nAlbert Spalding\nALBERT SPALDING'S recital at Aeolian Hall, Saturday\nafternoon, October 28th, presents several unusual fea-\ntures of new or seldom played works, among which are\nnumbered two movements of Bach's Suite in E minor, the\nsame master's massive figure in G minor for violin with\nfigured bass, the charming and rarely heard Sonata of Beeth-\noven No. 3, which is so Mozartian in character: a set of\nSwedish Folk Dances arranged by Max Bruch and shorter\npieces by Saint-Saens, Cecil Burleigh and Paganini-Spald-\ning. Andre Benoist will as usual be Mr. Spalding's accom-\npanist.\nRenee Lacoste\nA SMALL mind wandering through the Village a few\nyears ago would have discovered there was hardly a\nplace where the villagers could meet in the evenings. But\nnow there are more places than evenings. Le Chat Noir,\nthe Mad Hatter's, the Liberal Club, the Ink Pot, the Book\nShop, A. Onorati. . . . And there are rumors of the immi-\nnent opening of a cozy little club called The Silver Kay. At\npresent we aren't free to disclose any details, and, as the\nmembership is going to be limited, there is no use of the\n\"outsiders\" gaining too intimate a knowledge of it.\nGeorge Baker's dog \"Babby\" committed suicide at the\nGreenwich Village Inn last Thursday.\n\"Too many strangers,\" he whispered just before he\nbreathed his last. \"This is no longer the old Polly's!\"\nAnd we of the village are disconsolate; we expected\n\"Babby\" to preside at the little notion shop Polly is going\nto establish soon. We had a picture of \"Babby\" standing\nbehind the counter and waiting intelligently upon all cus-\ntomers, supplying them with the required articles. Alas!\nFrank Shay, co-partner in the Washington Square Book\nShop, was unusually busy last Saturday night.\n\"Every time I hear good news about my play,\" said Lily\nWinner, \"I buy books!\"\nLet's hope the play is a success for Frank's sake anyway!\nIt is seldom one of the villagers summons enough energy\nto leave his Bohemian surroundings. George Seldes has set\na bad example by sailing for England, where he expects to\nfinish a novel and gather news for the American press. Poor\nlittle Betty Seldes, flourishing her powder puff, announces\nthat she is a \"war bride.\" By the way, she has been urged\nto induce that powder puff to write its autobiography: how\nit caused more annoyance, surprise, amusement and con-\ntempt among the inhabitants of Lee, Maine, than any other\nphenomenon there last summer; how it was forever being\n\n\"It is a mark of genius to convey many\nthoughts in few words. On the contrary\nsmall minds have the gift of talking much,\nand saying little.\"—Vauvenargues."}, {"page_pdf": 12, "page_imprimee": "1174", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.12", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nlost, found in the most absurd hiding places; and, notwith-\nstanding its perilous adventures, is again among us.\nHelen Criswell arid Matilda Spence surprised us all by\nannouncing they have joined the American Women's League\nfor Home Defence. Every Thursday night they don compli-\ncated uniforms, but they have refrained from wearing them\nin the Village out of respect for the feelings of those among\ntheir friends who don't believe in militarism.\nThe well known Christine and Louise . Coons promise to\ngive the best of food in their new restaurant in West Tenth\nstreet. There will be dancing and a room where those ad-\ndicted to it can discuss the problems of their souls. A\nformal opening was announced for Wednesday the eigh-\nteenth, and the \"Who's Who\" of the Village intended to be\nthere under the benevolent guardianship of Jack McGrath,\nthe übiquitous Father of the Village.\nDon't let those who are looking for studios in Washington\nSquare feel discouraged on hearing that Grace Godwin and\nher family have taken quarters here. There are still a few\nplaces left. However, we are indebted to Grace for bringing\nsome of the sunshine back to the Square.\n\nDeparture\nL. H.\nTHE huge bulk quivers and the hawsers strain\nUntil unloosed, the great ship slips to sea\nBearing the friend who is so dear to all\nTo where the flattened adders of the deep\nLie hidden, till they launch their venom out\nIn softly-speeding messengers of death.\nWave, O my hand! smile, O my lips! O voice,\nRing forth your laughing shouts of raillery!\nO saving pride, guard well my traitor eyes\nThat they fill not!—She has the right to weep.\n\nAdventure\nDora Grant.\nTHE setting is very vague in my memory. The yellow\nshades were drawn to the sills and the polished floor\nstretched off dimly into the corners. Faces there were, but I\n•could not see them. The sounds were clearer. I remember\nthe murmur of our voices, the thrash of the hall outside, and\nthe loud hum of the brass tea-kettle. My eyes rested for a\nmoment on the blue flame fanning under the kettle. Them\nI must have turned away, but from that instant every second\nis stamped on my mind with hideous accuracy. First, there\nwas a gentle sputter. Then a sheet of yellow flame quivered\nbefore my eyes. I opened my mouth and immediately tasted\nalcohol on my tongue. I raised my hands to my face and\nfound it wet. The yellow sheet had split into orange tongues\nthat hissed over my ears and crackled in my hair. They\nwere very hot. I was mad with fear and beat my head with\nmy palms. The alcohol streamed into my mouth and I\ncould taste it in my throat, searing me with its touch. Some-\nhow Iran with my eyes shut and my breath coming in gasps\nthat hurt. I fell once, but the orange tongues danced on\nmy eyelids and I struggled to rise. Voices broke in now.\nThey roared and bellowed about me. Through it I heard the\nthin crackle of breaking china. My face tingled. I tried to\nspeak but my tongue was filling my mouth to the roof and\nI could not move. I seemed to gurgle in my throat. A thou-\nsand needles were pricking my face and throat—red-hot\nneedles. They bit into the flesh till in agony I pressed my\nhands over my face. The skin slipped under my fingers. I\ncould not open my eyes. They stung and boiled in their\nsockets, but the lids were glued down. I rose unsteadily\nand leaned against something. I raised one hand to my\nhead and my fingers closed on a dry brittle mass that\ncrumbled at my touch. I raised the other hand and laugh-\ning in my throat, pulled handful after handful from my\nhead, laughing the more as it became dust in my grasp.\nThat was all—I have not seen myself since.\n\nNext issue of Bruno's Weekly will contain\nFRANK HARRIS AS MAGAZINE EDITOR\nAn intimate visit to the workshop of one of the greatest writers in the English language; who\nhappens to live in Washington Square, the capitol of Greenwich Village.\n\nl>Ct\nMUSHROOMS By Alfred Kreymborg\n75 Cents Postpaid\nBruno's Weekly,lnc. 58 Washington Square"}, {"page_pdf": 13, "page_imprimee": "1175", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.13", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\n\" ieUyour Authors, books dre nowsD stale.\nThai penny His?ries make a better sale *\nNICHOLAS BRETON,\n(Slightly altered)\nFrom an Old English Chap Book .\n\nBruno Chap Books.\nTwenty-eight booklets containing the most interesting work of the most unique writers of the past\ntwenty-five years. ;\nPrices ranging from fifteen cents to fifty cents. \\\nWrite for catalogue and send one one-cent stamp. It contains the story of Bruno's Garrett from a\npublic grave digger's tool house to the exhibition gallery of modern artists' work.\nBruno's Weekly, 58 Washington Square, New York City\n\nRARE BOOKS FIRST EDITIONS\nExtra Illustrated Books. Early Printed Books. Association Books. Books for Christmas Gifts.\nPurchased singly or in sets for people who have neither time nor opportunity to select for themselves,\nlor for those who have not access to the best book marts. Why not begin collecting now?\nAddress, E. V. Boston Transcript, Boston, Mass."}, {"page_pdf": 14, "page_imprimee": "1176", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.14", "texte": "BRUNO'S WEEKLY\n\nR. EDERHEIMER PRINT CABINET\n366 FIFTH AVE., NEW YORK\nOriginal Drawings by Old Masters\nALL APPRECIATIVE VISITORS CORDIALLY INVITED\n\nWhat great authors think of marriage.\nIbsen, Bernhard Shaw, Max Nordau, Tolstoy, H.\nG. Wells. Will the home survive?\nA unique book of 250 pages, bound in cloth,\nfifty-five cents postpaid.\nThe Evolution of Modern Orchestration.\nIt is not only a valuable reference book for a\nmusician but a little journey to the homes of\nmusicans and composers of the world for a layman.\nPublished by the MacMillan Company, royal quarto,\nbound in cloth, 280 pages.\nOne dollar five cents; sent anywhere.\nBRESLOW'S BOOK STORE\n123 East 23rd Street\n\n14 Stories by Maupassant,\nFor 25 cents postpaid\nStories of the Tragedy and Comedy of Life, with\nan Introduction by Paul Bourget. Prettily printed in\nlarge type on superior paper, with illustrations in color\nby Clare Victor Dwiggins. 16mo, stiff dark green\npaper cover, rough edges. (196 pages.) New York,\nM. Walter Dunne, 1914. (Pub. 50 cents.)\nComprises the following short stories: The False\nGems; Was it a Dream?; Simon's Paper; In the Moon-\nlight; The Old Maid; The Lancer's Wife; The Sequel\nto a Divorce; The Englishwoman; Sentiment; The\nFishermen; In his Sweetheart's Livery; Bertha; Dis-\ncovery; and A Message of Love.\nCONDOR'S BOOK STORE\n366 Fifth Ave.\nWrite for interesting catalogue of books.\n\nAmerican Thumb Prints\nMettle of Our Men and Women;\nSketches of American Woman;\nThis book was published by J. B. Lippincott Co., is\nbound in cloth, 55 cents postpaid.\nThe Pleasures of Literature and the\nSolace of Books with introduction\nBy Andrew Lang\nA choice book for the booklover and book-hunter.\n55 cents postpaid.\nFRANK BENDER, 128 Fourth Ave.\n\nMONSIEUR\nD'EN BROCHETTE\n\nBeing\nAn Historical Account of Some of the\nAdventures of Huevos Pasada Par Agua,\nMarquis of Pollio Grille, Count of Pate\nde Fbie Gras, and Much Else Besides.\nBY\nBert Leston Taylor\nArthur Hamilton Folwell\nand\nJohn Kendrick Bangs\nIllustrated by Frank A. Nankivell\n\nNEW YORK\nMC M V\nKEPPLER & SCHWARZMANN\n50 CENTS POSTPAID\nHARRY STONE\n137 Fourth Ave. New York\n\nVOLUME II\nBRUNO'S WEEKLY\nBound in white linen cloth\nTWO DOLLARS, postpaid"}, {"page_pdf": 15, "page_imprimee": "[1177]", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.15", "texte": "Bruno's Weekly, published weekly by Bruno's Weekly, Inc. Charles Edison, Pres.; Guido Bruno, Vice-Pres.j\nWalter L. Eckert, Sec. and Treas., at 58 Washington Square, New York City. Edited and written by GuidUl\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\nROSSI BROTHERS\n58 Washington Square\nUnderneath the Garret\nICE CREAM AND TOBACCO\nFLORENCE GOUGH\nShows Smart Millinery for Grown Ups—M#>thw\nGoose's Millinery for Children and other unique\nthings to wear.\nTHE PAINT BOX\n150 W. 4th St., Near 6th Ave.\nN. 7. C. Phone Spring 23\nThe Mad Hatter Has a Tea Party Every Aftei\nfrom 3 to 6 at\n150 WEST FOURTH STREET\nJust Down the Rabbit Hole From Washington Squas*\n\"Take Some More Tea\"\n\"I've Had Nothing Yet So I Can't Take More\"\nYou Mean You Can't Take Less, It's Very Easy to\nTake More Than Nothing.\"\n\"Nobody Asked Your Opinion\" Edith Unger.\nn\n$1.45\nand\n$1,95\nWEAR\nMILAN'S HATS\nMade in Italy\nBest in the World\nBleeker Street\nNear West Broadway\nNew York\nCIRCULATING LIBRARY OF FRENCH NOVELS\nEUREKA BOOK SHOP\n15 Bible House\nv..\nAstor Place, Cor. 3rd Ave., New York.\nFacing Cooper Union\nBooklovers and Collectors Are Welcome\nBeing a book\nIN WHICH\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.\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\nPhone: Stuyvesant 4570\nA postal will bring you, with our compliments,\nan interesting little biography of Mr. Thos. A.\nEdison.\nI"}, {"page_pdf": 16, "page_imprimee": "[1178]", "url_page": "https://bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaaq19161025-01.1.16", "texte": "Va\n¥\n.'IV-\n&\n■^1\n?gy®\\v\n■..\n-S-\nHarrison Fisher: $7.50\n&\ni r^-S.\ny\nj\n$6.00\ny, *-:<;>\nr i/.sW\n■wr?vd\n<§?r\"\n£\ng»sa\n*?■}\nto\nrrr\nT*\nfH\nAUjtcr\nJlwidnjKe /\n*ov\nKg\n/v\nf< :\nS£S\nJV\nX\n\\\nsg£?\nK\nS?\n; ■\"\"• j\njfaus r;\nBirch: $12.00\n$5.00\nSIXTY THOUSAND ORIGINAL\nDRAWINGS OF AMERICAN\nILLUSTRATORS\nRose O'Neil, Opper, Harrison Fisher, Barton, Cassel\nPughes, Hassmann, Crawford, and Many Other\nAmerican and Foreign Illustrators Whose Drawings\nHave Appeared in the Foremost American Illustrated\nMagazines from 1880 up to Date\ny HAVE purchased the original drawings and\n1 paintings which you have seen reproduced on\nthe pages of Puck and other prominent periodicals\nduring the last thirty-six years. They are a splendid\ncollection of the early work and of the best work\nof America's foremost artists. They show the\nevolution of the American comic paper from its\ninfancy to its present standard as well as the in-\ndividual evolution of the artists. They are an\nunique kaleidoscope of the manifold interests of\npublic opinion during the last two score years.\nThere is the period where New York with its cease-\nless building underground, overground and on the\nsurface was the target of constant banter. There\nare the political cartoons, a conclusive demonstra-\ntion why Cleveland or Roosevelt or Taft had to be\nelected and why Bryan and Roosevelt were\ndefeated.\nRARELY will there be an opportunity again to\npurchase these originals, welcome in the den,\nin the library of a private home, and appropriate\non the walls of public libraries, of museums and of\npublic schools, at such low prices as I am offering\nthem now. Many are priced as low as twenty-five\ncents. Only a few are marked higher than ten\ndollars.\nYou are invited to call at my store and view the\ncollection leisurely or inquire about the work of\nillustrators you like. I will gladly quote you\npictures and prices.\nHARRY STONE,\nBOOKS and DRAWINGS\n137 FOURTH AVENUE, NEW YORK\nFor Three Dollars I will send you post-paid Ten Original Drawings of American Illustrators."}]}