Boston Sunday Post (Newspaper) - January 27, 1907, Boston, Massachusetts
BOSTON SUNDAY POST, JANUARY 27, 1D07
OF A JUDGE
Romantic Meeting and Wedding of Eminent Legal Light
Photo by the Post photographer, showing how “T” wharf looked last week during the ^^zero spell,” when the fishing fleet from the Grand Banks took to cover from the unendurable weather outside to wait for a kindlier mood of Old Boreas before venturing out for another fare of fish.
Tied up, three and four abreast, on both ■Ides of T wharf one day last week, was the largest number of off-shore flshermea that have sought the shelter of this harbor this winter.
Many of them were driven home with small fares because of the terrific cold on the banks, but the ma.iority came In well stocked below the hatches and sold their fislx for good prices.
Their appearance, covered with snow and ice, lines, buckets and dories holding .solid cakes of ice. .and many of the vessels with torn sails or the standing rigging parted, eloquently told the stoa’y of storms at sea and of the hardships that the fishermen of Boston undergo.
The other day a bitter soutlieaster wa.s blowing directly in from the liarbor, and the snow, flying in clouds, hid from sight the vessels tliat were but a quarter of a mile from the wharf. Those of the fishermen who wero not engaged in unloading were below decks talking over affairs of the deep, or .sheltered in warm saloons or in doorways that protected them from the blast.
Vessels that came in la.st week iiad tho fiercest kind of winter weather to contend with.
The Homeward Race
The vessels, from the moment of mak
ing everything fast on the fishing grounds and turning tlie prow of the vessel toward 'Gloucester or Boston, aim to make the quickest passage possible so that tlie advantage of the early market may be taken.
The men in the winter time are apxious to reach port and comfort other than the stuffy little fo'ca.stle or cabin.s in which they sleep and eat while aiioard. and this is particularly true of the married men of the crew.s. of whom there are many in the ranks of trawlers, seiners and hand-finers out of Bo.«ton.
At these times the skipper is apt to pile on the canvas to the splitting limit so that the vessel may be driven to the utmost speed, and often this is done while blinding snowstorms are raging.
Last week a score of deep .sen fishermen came into 'P wharf with rigging, bow.s and decks covered with ice and snow, and wliile huddled together alongside tlie wharf on tlie latter day, received the full force of the storm.
“We get down on the banks and usuall> find a few other ves.sels down there before us. and when we 'speak' them it is tho usual rule that they will give us little encouragement, for fear that we might butt in while the lish are running well.” one old-time salt told a Sunday Post reporter, a.s he talked of the lives the fishermen lead.
“On the banks in the winter time there is a great deal of peril because .some of
the more greedy skippers, seeing others getting fish, come right down on them and anchor hut a few lengths away.
“A.s a usual tiling the old-timer in the winter llshing, instead of taking these chances, will take another ‘berth,’ usually to the eastward, and then anchor in about .35 to 40 fathoms.
“As .soon as tlie anchor goes and ‘takes,’ the actual work of the fishing begins, and over go the dories and the men. The fish never come wilii a rush until we get the right location, but on the second day in the bitter cold tho boys will turn out, and with lines in the dories start the day's work.
Hard Work Keeps Them Warm
“As a usual thing all the men who go out in the Boston and Gloucester fleets are case hardened to the work.
“In all the time that we are out in the dories, even in tlie worst weather, we manage lo keep the circulation up by hauling on the lines constantly, and at oiher time© by the rowing against tlie smashing of the waves.
“Tho weather at thi.s time of the year is always cold, and when the day’s work is done there is little el.se to do but turn into Hie bunk after warming up well, and then rest iqi for tlie next day.
“But at niglit. when there is a blow on there is always tlie chance of liaving a craft come across our hows, or another drift from her anchorage and bear down
on ns lo strike and sink one or the other.
“That is one of the dangers on tlie Tianks in tlie winter weatlier, and in comparison with the bitterness of the weather ill fishing the former danger is felt the most, but as a usual tiling tlie men :ire too tired to dream or worry over tills, and leave that part to the watch on dock,
“Many a time ugly spa.“! will board us during the night, and when we are turned out at the break of day it is to find that the deck iitt'Ugs are ripped and the gurry-kids smashed and strewn aiiout in thc corners.
No Leisure Time
“But tlie moment we get .away with breakfast it is out with the dories again to follow out tlie run of the lish once more.
“When we have made what the skip-l>er thinks is a good fare ilie orders come to make sail for Boston, hut before this is done we have to pound the ice off llie sails, the sheets of Ice that are a foot thick about the for'ard deck, and the masse.*? of ice tliat bury standing rigging, ropes, windlass and cables.
“In tiiick and heavy weather danger lurks for the ves.-iel every ship's-length of tlie wa\' homo.
“But it is all in tlie game, and T suppose that if there was not a little danger for the boys lo go Ihrougli there \ would be no spice in tlie life, yet when we have to rim to port to get away from
disaster, as some of the fellows that are now in did. tho happy feeling that comes over a man can’t be told, especially after he has been witliin an ace of death a dozen times during the trip.”
Many old-timers along the wharf claim that this year the weather, so far as the number of storms is concerned, has been milder on the banks than In pre\ i-ous winters, liut there has been, bowevor, <1 greater loss of life among the dory fisliermcn, due, it is said, to the men growing more careless each succeeding yeai-. The Impulse of the men working on shares .seems to he to take more chances than ever before in bad weather.
Two arrivals of last week are the largest that have put Into T wharf in years —the Muriel I... Young and the Eva Young, the former hailing from Gloucester and tjie latter from Lunenburg, N. S.
't he two came into port with the first fares of frozen herring to reach the wharf this season, and found a ready market for the fish at $7.50 and $8 a barrel, a liigli price.
Other species of fish of the usual variety cared for on T wharf are coining in rather slow, hut the fleet loses little lime in getting away again after discharging; cargoes, and tlie orews, following .a few' days ashore, are ea.ger to leave for tlie dangerous banks to haul trawls and run the hand lines, playing with death, until storm or di.saster compels a run to refuge.
The mysterious law of aflinity i.s declared by the liridegroom-to-be. Judge Patrieiii**'II. (’asey of the famou.s eoiirt Of Lip. whieli a couple of years ago al-mo.st caused international complications by Its fining of an attache of tlie British embassy for overspeeding of his automobile, to lie re.sponsilile foi- a romance of tho Berk.sliires.
The judge is 60 odd, w'ith silver hair and beard, and Miss lauiisc Hoskins, t'hom he is to marry on I'-el». 0. at lier home in Philadelphia, is 53.
They met by cliane«*, as people will ♦I'ho spend tlie summer at the same inn, find neither susporled the presence of the little god (‘upi'l till the day when Judge Casey went to Lenox to deliver a eulogy on McKinley.
His elotpient and inspiring words arou.sed tla* enthusiasm of everybody, but in Mi.*-s Hoskins it awoke a feeling which had never come to her before.
The Praise He Treasured Most
AVhen, at the close of bis address, tlie crowd moved up to shake hands and congratulate tin* orator of tiie day, .somehow Mis.s Hoskins’ “T am very proud of that speccli’’ pleased the quiet, dignified, and kindly .judge more than anything else—and neither tlien suspected.
Today, the judge, with a beautiful smile on his face, tolls the simple .story of how liis elotpiencc won him a bride.
“It is a queer romance,” said he. “Tliere can be no doulit that we were brought together by the law of affinity wliich somewhere in the background was working all the time.
"It is very strange. T cannot remem-her. nor can Miss Hoskins, when we lirst ‘fell in love’ with eacli other,
“Miss Hoskins has spent three summers in the Berkshire.s, two at South Wllliamstown, and last summer at the Greenock Inn, where I make my homo.
“We met as guests in the same hotel do and cliatted.
“But last fall, when Miss Hoskins was leaving for her home in Philadelphia and W'C talked of corresponding, we found to our mutual surpri.se that there was a strong attachment. How it came, or the moment wlien, neither of us could tell, thougli we tried hard, but we know that it was, a.s I have said, the working of tho strange law of affinity.”
Of an Old Philadelphia Family
And everyone in Lee seems to view the corning marriage as the climax to a (leliglitful lomance in the lives of an elderly w'hite-liearded, white-haired 'W’id-ower and jh*' middle-aged daughter of one of the oldest and best-known families of Piiiladelfiliia.
After tlioir wedding, which will be solemnized in St. Jame.s’ Protestant Eltis'copal Church, there will be Ji brief honeymoon, and the judge will then return to his duties in the district court of I..ee. while there is talk of the purchasing of a big mtinsion on the hill, now owned liy a New Yorker, which •would make an ideal homo.
The bride-to-be comes of an old English famil.v, and one of lier ancestors. Sir William Hoskins, was kniglited on the field of haltle by an English king, while her grand-unclo, another Sir William Hoskins, was at one time in command of the British troops quartered in Philadelphia.
A Quaker Pioneer
Her father was one of the leading w'holcsale merchtints of his day in Philadelphia and erected there one of the finest buildings of the period, far tihead of the times, in fact, and which is still standing and compares favorably w’ith those of today.
The bride berself is leader of tbe cboir and Sunday scbool in Dr. Appleton’s cbiircb. one of tbe largest in tbe city. Two of ber lirothers are clergymen, the Rev. F'rancis Hoskins of Hartford. Conn., and tbe Rev. Leighton Hoskins
(I’lioto b.v T,ane Bros.) JUDGE CASEY
of West Pliiladelpbia, while a cousin is Prefes.sor Whitney of Yale, the famous Sanscrit scholar.
As for the bridegroom, bo is of old fighting stock and since tbe days of tbe Revolution there has never been ;i time when a member of his family lias not been in tho United States navy or army.
He was at one time a member of 16 different orders, but has dropped out of many. He is today a Ro.val Arch Mason, a 3L’d degree Mason, member of tbe Council and Knights Templars, besides bein.g a prominent Sons of Veterans and Grand Army man.
Record a Proud One
His father wa.s killed at tbe battle of Cliancellorsville. and be bad seven rel-ative.s, including a brotlir-r. in the war of tbe rebellion, and himself enlisted in the Thirty-first Massachusetts Regiment at the age of only 17, and was severely wounded in battle.
Rear Admiral Casey of tlio navy is a cousin of Judge Casey, tiiid Major-General ,T. H. Ca.sey, of Civil war fame, was a near relative.
At tbe outbreak of the Spaiiish-Amerl-ean war, .ludge Casey and bis iirother, John Casey, also a» prominent citizen of Lee, raised a company of 65 men in two evenings nnd offered their own services to tbe Governor. Their offer was refused. on tbe grounds that they liad already given bolli their services and their blood to tbe ,cause. and al.^o )>e-cause of tlieir age—a fact that did not deter oitlier of them from renewing their offer at thc first news lliat an armj' was to be sent to the Philippines.
NOT EVEN A MOURNER
Wlien it was proposed to dramatize “The House of Mirlli, ” Mrs. Wliarton made it a rigid condition that thc story sliould not be clinnged with any view to the supposed popular prejudice in favor of a happy ending. IJly Bart was to die. Lily Bart does die. But in the meantime Mrs. Wharton lias learned that wlien you kill a iioor heroine there are likely to be penalties.
Her country house is in Lenox, and one day last summer she went out for a walk. She met a friend, a lady, whose face, as she noticed, was unaccountably sad.
When the friend recognized her she hurrieil toward her full of virtuous indi.g-nation.
“I hav(* just finished ‘The Hou.se of Mirth.' ’’ .she said. “It was had enough that you had the heart to kill Lily. But here you are, shamcles.sly parading the streets in a red hat!’’“Mainly About People”—Little Stories of the Sunny Side of LifeCOULD STOP TILLMAN
Senator Tillman was recently talking in his usual vehement manner. Th>e conversation threatened to be stormy. A friend expostulated with thc Senator, saying it wa.s ‘’hardly a place for .such a discussion.’’
“Please don't talk so much," said the warning voice.
It irritated Tillman.
“Talk!'’ he shouted. “I’ll talk as mueli whenever and wherever I please. I would like to see the man who can keep me from talking!’’
“I can!’’ came .a voiie from the crowd.
Tillman turned and glared about him. Then his eye caught the .speaker. He pretended to quail. The laugli went round and the critical situation was saved.
The man who had hurled the defiant “I can!’’ was Dr. T. T. Moore, Tillman’s lifetime 'dentist.THE MANLIKE DOG
Miss Agnes Slack, the secretary of the •World’s Woman’s Uhristian Temperance Union, praised, at :i dinner party in Boston, the tempei’iince of women.
“Who ever heard,’’ slie said, “a woman complain about her food'.' Who ever heard of woman gourmets? Even the really fine cooks are all men, for women do not take sufficient interest in food to attain to such - excellence in its preparation as Brillat-Savarin or Gavarni had.
“J am reminded of a little story about a man. This story would fit many men, but where is th« woman it could be applied to?
“An old gentleman, pointing to his favorite dog, said proudly:
“ ‘That dog ct'i taiuly seems almost human at times.’
“ ‘Yes.’ said liis wife; ‘lie growls over his food as much ;i.s you do.' ’HER APT ANSWER
.Tack London, tlic novelist, has a groat affection for children.
In San Francisco there are twin sisters. Htth' girls of six years, of wliom Mr. Tamdon is fond.
On his way to liis boat one moriiiii,g Mr. London met one of the twins. He stooped and shook her hand.
“Good morning, my dear," ho said. “And whioli of tho twins are you?”
Tlie little girl answered gravely:
“I'm thc one what's out walkin'."WAS A LONG CHASE
After more logs luid been thrown on the fire and pipes lighted, the talk drifted arouiul to the IMiddle Fork of the American River and tlie conntiy roundabout. “The strongest remembrance 1 have of tliat country is of tlie big grizzly that chased me out,’’ .said Bill Bailey.
“I wa.s a-piikin’ wild strawberries up on the .side of a mountain when some pebbles, dirt an' one thing tind another come u'clatterin' down; you all know h.ow it is on a side hill when something heavy 's movin' above you. I looked up. and s’elp me if tliere wasn’t a whoopin’ big grizzly a'stalkin' me, yes, sir, doin’ tlie sneak act right up on me. Y^ou ought to see me go down the mountain; I’ll bet my tracks was a rod apart, and in some places I didn't leave no tracks—I jest nacherally went tlirough the air. But that bear was hittin' only the high places, too, and fiie faster I went the faster he come. I could hear hi.s ‘whoof right behind me, ail’ sometimes I believed I felt his hot breath on the back of my nock. But I fooled himt good and plenty. ”
“I’d crossed the river on my W'ay up, an’ while the ice would bear me I kuowed it wouldn’t hold up no 1500-pound grizzly, so I headed for the river and out on the ice. So did the bear, but not far out. He went though an’ I kep’ on; T didn’v even stop to see if be got out. I was afeared he would. "
“Oh; - you said you was pickin’
“So 1 was; so I was; but I didn’t tell all the story, for it would be too long. That bear chased me from August to January.’’RETORT ON SHAW
At Ji recent Gilbert and Sullivan revival in London, at whieh Gilbert was present and the late Sir Arthur was tenderly recalled, George Bernard Sluiw said in a pensive mood after the performance: “I’d give a. £5 note to be able to attend a performance of one of. my plays after I am dead.” Max Beerbohm retorted: “You won’t have to. They’ll he played down there free.’’A STRANGER iN GLASGOW
Tliere is un old story of a simple Highland las.s who liad walked to Glasgow to join her sister in service. On reaching a toll bar on the skirt of the city she began to rap smartly with her knuckles on tJie gate. The toll keeper came out to see what she wanted.
“J'lca.se, sir, i.s this Glasgow?’’ she inquired.
“Y'es. this is Glasgow.’’
"iMeuse,” said the girl, “i.s Peggy in?”IN THEIR OWN COIN
One di\y two ladies iiired a call ami paitl tlie driver hi.s dollar tor their rid*' wit It the following ( oins: A 1’5-cent iiiece, three dimes, live .5-c<'nt pieces, a 3-eent piece, two L’-eent piei-cs and thirteen liennies.
After looking at the mi.seellany for a motm’ni. the driver smiled l>roa«lly, and a.*»ked, whimsleally; ’’Well, well, now. and liow long hav*' you been saving up for this nice little treat today?”THE UNCLE AND AUNT ONE
Yirs. Ilollingswoith Andrews of Philadelphia is one of the best whist players in America. She will not, however, play foi- money. Slie holds that no mother should gamble.
Mrs. Andrews, tit tbe end of a discussion on gambling, said the other day: “Nev'cr play for a stake if yon have eliildren ttnd never say to your iiaitner in any ease at the end of a game: ‘If .vou had dotn* tliis or that ihe outcome would liave been different.’ Wlienever I lune a partner of the ‘if yon liail’ kind I tliink of the great Uavendish.
“Cavendish, the famous whist exjiert, when a parltuf said to him: ‘If you had done so and so we’d have made so and ."o.’ always rerilied:
‘Did you ever heai- the story of yoitr uncle and your snmt?’
“If tlie player luul lieard it lie would at onee boeome silent, not wishing to hear it again, if lie had not Imatd it he would pause in his postmortem of the game and sa> :
•• ‘No. T< II j* to me.’
••Uavendish would fr;)wti and sa\ in a solemn vol.’**;
‘If yonr aunt had heen a man siie would have been j'our uncle.’ ’’TENOR FORGOT
One of the leading tenors in Moscow was called upon to sing an opera in which one note was much too high Jor him, but he got a man in the orche^ra to come in just at the right time and supply the note. In exchange, the tenor was to take him to supper. The plan answered well, the applause was loud, but the tenor forgot about the supper. Next time he sang the opera he went to the front of the stage, put his hand on his lieart anti opened his mouth as wide as he could. His discomfiture was great when the expectant hush was broken by a Voice from the orchestra saying: “Where's my .supper? ”MAKING A BULL»S EYE
A Georgian, wlio has the reputation of being a wretched shot, recently invited the attention of his .©porting friends to a target painted on a barn door, with a bullet hole exactly in the centre of the bull's eye. This he claimed to have shot at a distance of 8tX) yards.
As his friends were incredulous, he offered lo bet a dinner on the proposition. Upon the accejitance by one of the friends of the wager, the chap with the supposed bad shooting eye produced two witnesses whose veracity could not be questioned, and they testified tliat he had, indeed, accomplished the feat. So the bet was paid.
During the dinner, the loser of the wager inquired how his friend had managed to fire such an excellent shot.
“Oh,” explained the latter, with a smile. “I simply shot the bullet at the door at a di.stance of 800 yards. Then I painted a target around it.’’NOT THE BURGLAR
She was telling a circle of sympathetic friends about the burglar scare in her home.
“Yes.” .©he said. “I lieard a noise, so got up at once. There, under the bed, 1 saw a man’s legs sticking out.” “Good gracious!” exclaimed one of the ladies. “I he burgiar’s legs?’’
“No, my husband’s legs. He had heard the noise, loo!’THE HOPEFUL PREACHER
Siie:ikei- ('annon. at a recent dinner of tho I’hilad(dphia Ulover Uiub, told this tdory;
“Ditr Danville minister is an optimist. His wife, on the otlier hand, i.s a pessimist. She said to iiim one niglit:
" ‘George, what do yon tliink they’re .«ayiiifr about tho butcher’s wife?’
" ‘Oh, nothing very had, 1 hope.’ said he.
“ ’Th('y siiy,’ declared the woman, ‘that they can tt'll wlien site’s going to liave companv by her washtn.g the children’s fac(‘s. Now, you’re a great optimist. George, but v.haf can you lio))e for a wi.man like that’.’’
'•'Wrli.' i-a.d tin* mii.i©l<n-. smiling. ‘I supi><v--o all we can hope for is th:it .she ent(*rt;un.s a good deal.’ ’’BORROWING IN CHINA
An American woman, who had gone to live in Shanghai, was compelled soon after her arrival to entertain some important business associates of her husband’s. Her fir>est china, glass and so forth had not yet arrived from the States. Nevertheless, she determined to give a dinner, and called in her “Number 1 boy,’’
“Now. boy,” she said, impressively, “I entertain three gentlemen at dinner tomorrow, very fine gentlemen. You make it all best possible. Must be nice, every-lliing.”
The next evening, as she tishered her friends into the dining hall, she gasped In amazement. Before her was a talile spread with the most ex(|uisite linen, cut glass, silver and delicate china. Over it all hung a gorgeon.s cut glass chandelier. Cour.©e after course was served as if by magic.
The instant she could leave her guests she sought her “Number 1 bo.v.”
“Boy! Boy,” she excltiimed. Whtre you get such beautiful thing.©?’’
Till* l)oy lieamed tvilh stilisfaction. “Everything very nii*o, liest possible! Me ver.N' good friend Russian Amliassti-dor's ‘Number 1 bo.v’: Russian Amliassa-dor’s Number 1 boy’; Russian Amliassa-nice, very nic«"!“PERFECTLY SAFE
The Town Council in a small German town hiul met to inspect a. new site for a cemetery. They assembled at a chapel, and, as it was ii warm day, one of the members of the Council suggested they should leave their coats in the building.
“Someone could stay beliind to look after them,’’ suggested one of the Councillors.
“There is no need of that.” said another. "If we are going out to the cemetery together, what need is there for one of us to stay behind and watch our coats?”TOOK NO CHANCES
A Cliioago lawyer tells of a. justice of the peace iu a town in southern Indiana, whose idea touching the administration of justice was somewhat bizarre.
On one occasion, after all the evidence was in and the plaintiff’s ♦ittorney had made an elaborate argument, the defendant’s attorney came to begin his plea.
“Wait a minute!” exclaimed the court. “I don't .see no use in your proceedin’, Mr. Brown. 1 have got a very clear idea now of the guilt of the prisoner at the bar, and anything more from you would have a tendency to confuse the court. I know he’s guilty and I don't want to take no chances.”GREAT EXPECTATIONS
' Gracious! 1 never saw so many soiled faces it! my life. Why don't you use some soap and water?” asked a college settlement worker of some diiUlreu in the East Side of New York.
“We are waiting fir de angel, mum,” replii'd 'I’ommy Tuff.
“Wliat angel? ”
"Why, de lady dat come fi u here last week and give one of dc kids a nii*kel to wash liis face."
Anecdote of Sir Thomas Lipton
Sir Thomas l,i)itnn is very willy man. an<l many smart replies are placed to his eredil. Here is one whieh ne-enrred at tlie time of the last cup race, when lie was in Ameriea. His host lu'onght nut a hex of very cliuiee cigar.s and handed tliem to hitn.
“I do not know wh('th< r .vou will like the.se eigars. Sir Tliohias?'' In* asked. “Wluit do you usually smoke*» '
“Bacon.” was the <iuiet reply.POETIC LICENSE IN THIS
Scott Cummins, the poet of 'Winchester, Wood eount.v, was a cow' puncher in tho northwest many years ago. His outfit came to Snake River one day with SOOO cattle. Cummins, with a poet’s license, relates what happened:
“The river was too dangerous for swimming, but. after following the bank a short distance, the foreman found a giant redwood tree that had fallen across the river. Fortunately the tree W’as hollow. and. milking .a chute, they had no trouble in diivlng the c:ittle through the log to the other side.
“As the cattle Inid not been counted for several days, one of the cowboy.© was stiilionod to count thorn ¡i.© they emerged from the log. The count fell short some thirty head, hut about lliat time n di.©-tant lowing was heard.
“Tlieir surprise may he imagined wlieu, on looking iihout. they found th;it the eaitle liad wandered off into ;i hollow limb."
A tejieiu'f iu a \\'ashingtiui kind»*rgar-
teii siiys that one dity :he gave tier
scholar© ¡is a lesson to mark on tlieir .©httes th(* Roman iiunietid© from opo to I'J. In a remarkably shoit lime one of tho Itoys held up his h.iml, signifying
tlnit ho hml aceomi>hshed tin* task.
“Very good. Tommy," sai*i the in-
slrnetor. ‘'Von'i'O :i ele\ci lad. 'r,.Ji us !mw you e;tme to tinisli so <|uiekly. "
"I copied 'em from the clock up there," responded Tommy, gleefully.
FIGURED IT OUT
“Now.“ said tlie teaelier. “lieic is one more problem; If a eat fell down :i liot-tomless hole and then tried lo eliml) up. and, for eveiy two feet per second of climbing it slipped btiek three feet, liow long would it take her to get out of the well?”
Nett fly every member of the class was ready at once to give an tiuswer, and several told amid considerable laughter tlxe W'ay to solve the problem, but one l)oy W'as seen oiird at w'ork figuring in large sums at his desk.
“Wliat!” said the teacher to this boy, “don't you know that the eat would never get out?”
“I lieg pardon,’’ proudly responded the serious fellow, “the cat w'ould get out somew'here in the Indian Ocean in 484 dtiys 14 hours.”
Tlie class applauded, while he smilingly clinched his arguments, s:iying the diameter through tho (*art!i is TTJ6 1-1! miles.
PLAYING THE PART
Itiugene Cowles s.ived two women bathers from drowning last summer in Lake JMemphremagog. In making this rescue Mr. Cowles bruised his .arm—it ktruck a rock tis he dived in. I'ninting to the scar, the actor said:
“When I got that brnise 1 felt like ti young Chioagoan named JdUledale, who played w'ith me in amateur theatricals in my earl.v youth.
“IJttledale, in one of our .©hows, hud to letip into ;i river in order to escape from :> W'ild Ixeast.
"The stiige w;is so arranged that the river was invi,©il»le. latllednle was to letjp and (iisapp'':ir. striking a soft mat-tre.©s in tin* wings, .and, itt (he same time, a rock was to he dropped in a tub of w'ater to cia'ate splash.
"Hut. tliough the leap worked all right in rehearsal, on tho night of the actual truformance it went wrong. There was neitner mattress m*r tnl) tliere. When ))Oor l.ittledale jumped he fell eight fc('t and hinded on an oaken floor with ;» ( laslx loiKi enough to waUc (h<* dead, .atifi there was no sphishitig water to drown tlio crash, by .love.
"The audience, expecting to hoar ;i spliish. .and liearing instead the thunderous impact of IJttledale’s bones on the oak. set up ;i titter. But IJttiOdale, eqti.al to the O(‘(*ision. silenced tliem.
•••Heavens!' he shouted from below, tin* water’s frozen!”CHANGED WARFIELD’S CAREER
David Warfield, tho actor, tell.© the fol-low'ing story of a good spanking that he got from hi.s mother, which was something of a turning point in his career. Tho incident liappened in San Francisco, of which city Mr. Warfield is a native:
“If it had not been for a bitter punishment meted out to me by my mothei’, when 1 was about years of age,” .©aid Mr, Warfield, "I might be doing my best acts on a flying trapeze instead of on the stage, and my most effective ‘flights’ would have been aerisil instead of oral. As :i youngster, the height of my ambition was to own a circus and to be its briglit and particular star. In fact. 1 lesolved that this ambition should be achieved without further delay. So I summoned ti few of my friends, and together we organized a circus in tlie cellar of my home. My specialty was the trapeze. We had .sold quite a number of seats, at a bottle, a horseshoe, old iron, pins, etc.. in fact anything whicjt might he converted into cash :it a junk shop after the performance. Then the frightful thought struck me—I had no tights— what was to be done? I crept quietly to my mother’s room, and .stole a pair of white stockings. I drew' them over my legs, donned a pair of .short trousers— and there 1 was.
“Everything w'cnt splendidly till my turn. Then, at a crash of kettle covers made by the solitary member of otsr ‘brass hand,’ 1 honnoed into thc ring, got on the trapeze, made of a broomstick .and clothesline, .and there I sw'ung gracefully to ;ind fro. for a few' moments—and thtit was :is far as I got 'With my act. My mother did the rest. She had heard the rumpus in the cellar, and came to see whtil had caused it. I can even now remember her ¡»lacing my ear In her hand, and being led aw'tiy.
“Ilow' small :i thing may thus alter tlie course of one’s career!’’THE LANGUAGE FOR TITLES
Samuel W. Penn.\q)acker, Hie Governor of Pennsylvania, .said at a convention in Philadelplt'ii ai»rop(»s of the vanity of titles;
"\V<* sp('iiki'i‘s of Etiglisli, tliough, :»re h.'ndie iiqioil 1>\- onr langtiage. AVo eati ii<‘ver hope for such sonorous titles a: the Germai's ha?-e,
young Getman matron once .©aid:
“ ‘Aeh, how glad 1 j»ni that my dear Fritz has heen aixpointcd hauptkas.sen-, verw'!iltungs:issi(*.stent’—assi.stant cashier. | ’Now.’ she went on, ‘in my title o* ' hauplkas.senverwaitung©as.s i st e n t i n I boast five hlters tnoro than that ¡»rou'l oher hofs ten eramt si nspeetor in’—excise in sjicctor s wife—‘e.an claim.’ ”A SWINISH ERROR
“In my scr.‘>i)ho(»k.’’ sttid C'l\ de Fitc’i. llie famous ¡»laywright. "I have man» examples (»f typographical error.©. ,
“Of all these errors, T like best one wh<'rein a tea give:» hy ii society woman ' in ’67 was called ’a swill affiiir.’ ”