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THE PITTSBURG DISPATCH
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1 PAGES 9 TO 16.
SECOND PART.
? THE NEW "JERUSALEM.
Introducing the American Type
writer Into the Holy City.
THE WONDERFUL RUINS OP ZION.
Pretty Bethlehem Girls With Their Dow
ries on Their Heads.
TEE QUAIfiTEST CITY OF THE ORIENT
rrnoir oca txavxlccq cohxissioxib. j
ERUSALEM,
July 8. I write
this letter on the
bouse top of a
bishop's residence,
on the top of Mount
Ziou, in the center
of Jerusalem. My
American type
writer stands with
in 30 feet of the
great square tower
or David, the base
of which was un
doubtedly built be
fore Christ. At
jny left, surrounded by the yellow stone
walls of houses, is the dark green pool which
Hezekiah made to supply the holy city with
water in case of a siege, and beyond it, out
of the honeycomb of buildings, shines the
great bronze dome, which stands over the
spot on which Christ was crucified, and in
which just now are worshiping pilgrims
from every quarter of the Christian world.
In front of me, not half a mile away, on a
freat plateau covering 35 acres, is a
ig octagonal tower with a bulbous
''bronze dome. It is the Mosque of
Omar and it stands on the very site
of Solomon's Temple, while at its left is
the church built on the Boman mosaic floor
of the house of Pontius Pilate. The hori
zon on all sides is bounded by hills. Jeru
salem lies in a nest in the mountains. It is
built on an irregular plateau, with valleys
about it and steep hills running straight up
from these to the city and to the higher
A Jerusalem Family.
hills on the opposite sides. Around the
edge of this plateau inns a wall about 30
feet high, and within this is the Jerusalem
of to-day. It does not cover, all told, much
more than the area of a 300-acre farm, and
A good walker can make the circuit of its
walls in an hourA
" oilting", as l-jamiipon tu-sHa"fJSr.g
7 d's palace, seevthe wholeScity yreat
oot before me. WhaVa curious city it'lsl
In my .i of tlie world I have found no
place ertPfull of strange sights, of picturesque
characters, and so different in every par
ticular from every other part of the world.
Aside from its wonderfully interesting his
torical associations, Jerusalem to-day is a
city of itself.
X GIGANTIC HONEYCOMB.
Forty thousand people are packed within
its narrow walls and it looks more like a
great honeycomb than a city. The houses
are piled one upon another in all sorts of ir
regularities, and if yon would tak a half
seclio j of land'and scatter over the whole
great piles of gigantic btore boxes just as
you find them back of a large store, you
might get some ideaof Jerualem as it looks
tj me from Mount Zion. These houses have
no chimneys and their stone roots are in
every case almost flat. Many of them have
little beehive domes jutting out of their cen
ter, and if the town were on a level these
domes would look like the hav cocks of a
great meadow at the time of harvest. Yel
low limestone is the material of Jerusalem.
The wood used in the building of the whole
city would not last an American family a
winter, and the roofs, walls and floors of
these thousands of houses are of cold, yel-
lowisb-whlte limestone. .ven in the
Bishop's mansion, which is one of the finest
in the city, I get out of my bed on to a stone
floor and I walk to my ibreakfast through
stone halls, down stone steps.
There are no wells in this city of Jerusa
lem. All of the water comes down in rain,
and the trees and gardens of the town can
be numbered on your fingers. The hills
about the city are almost as barren as those
of New England and the only foliage vis
ible is the dark silvery green of the olive
orchards on the Mount of Olives and along
the hills between Jaffa and Bethlehem.
The only green to be seen is an acre or so of
common inide the walls of the temple
plateau, and here and there a housetop,
which by age has gathered a coating of dirt
from the dust of the city, and on which the
green grass has sprouted. Here nnd there
you sec ruined arches which are too danger
ous to be inhabited by the bees of this
human hive, and ou these the moss and grass
grow. There is one green busby tree at the
base of Mount Calvary, and a solitary palm
looks out over the city, beside the business
street named after King David. It is not
an attractive looking town, and its glaring
cream white makes sore the eyes under the
rays of this tropical sun.
XT THE GATES OF JEBUSALEM.
The walls of Jerusalem are clean and
frell cut, and they have not the dilapidated
condition of those of the cities of China.
They are entered by gates which are closed
at night, and at eacn of these gates Moham
medan soldiers stand and exact a tax on all
of the produce which comes into the citv.
The main business gate is that which lends
out behind the tower of David toward Jaffa.
through which the Bethlehem girls bring
their vegetables each morning to sell and
. through which all of the imports which
come by sea are brought in. This gate lies
at my ieet, and I can see the curious throng
which passes through it day in and day out.
There are donkeys and camels with great
loads on their backs. There are pilgrims
by tfce thousands and all of the various
characters which make up this curious peo
ple. There Eoes a donkey led by a fat Turk
in a yellow gown and red turban; he is
bare-footed, and he is bringing wood into
town to sell. The wood i the
roots of olive trees and his donkey load is
worth just 25 cents and be has
had to pay 3 cents of a tax upon it at
the gate. There is a Syrian Beduin upon a
gray Arabian pony. He sits as straight as
a telegraph pole and he looks with wonder
ing glances out of his fierce black eyes at
the crowd about him. He has a black and
white woolen blanket on hit back, and his
head is covered with a great yellow hand
kerchief which is bound about the crown
with two strands ot hair cord as big around
as vonr finger. Behind him come three
camels loaded with the oranges of Jaffa.
Each carries a cartload in the two crates
which bang on each aide of his back, and
they grunt and grumble as their Beduin
driver drags them along by a string tied to
u&
JMSik
i?w$WSiif
their noses. Next comes a troop of Turkish
soldiers in blue European uniforms and red
fez caps. They knock aside the Christians
as they go along, and it makes one's blood
boil to know that this land which is the
holiest of all to Christian nations is in the
hands of the Turks. The sound of the
Turkish band is continuouslv heard in
Jerusalem. The TurKieh sword and gun is
everywhere and the Holy Sepulcher itself is
guarded by Turks.
PBETTY BETHLEHEM GIRLS.
There is a market inside the Jaffa gate and
I can see it just under me as I write. Great
piles of oranges and lemons lie upon the
flag sidewalk and there are scores of women
with baskets of vegetables before them.
Many of these are from Bethlehem and the
Bethlehem girls are the prettiest you see in
Jerusalem. They have straight, well
rounded forms, which they clothe in a long
linen dress of white, beautifully embroid
ered in silk, so that a single gown requires
many months of work. This dress is much
iike the American woman's night gown
without the frills and laces. It falls frbm
the neek to the ieet and is open at the front
of the neck in a narrow slit as far down as
A Belle of Bethlehem.
a modest decollette fashionable dress.
Over this they have sleeveless cloaks of
dark' red stripes and their heads are
covered with long shawls of linen
beautifully embroidered. Just above her
forehead each girl carries her dowry in the
shape of a wreath-like strip of silver coins
which stand on end fastened to a string and
crown the forehead with money. Some of
the girls have several rows of these coins and
some have crowns of gold. Not a few have
coins of silver and gold the size of our
twenty-dollar gold pieces hung to strings
about their necks, and none of the women
hide their pretty faces, as do those Moham
medan girls near by, who, in shapeless white
gowns with flowery white and red veils cov
ering the whole of their faces, look like girls
playing ghosts in white sheets.
Beside these are Bussian girls in the peas
ant costumes of modern Europe, and Jewish
maidens in gowns and flowered shawls.
There are Greek priests with high, black
caps and monks of all kinds, such as you
see under the black cowls of Europe. The
Syrian, the Turk, Jthe Beduin, the Arme
nian and the Greek are all in that crowd
below me, and among them all is the form
of the ubiquitous American traveler, who
in pith helmet hat and green sun umbrella
has conquered the East as well as the West
A BEDUIN INN.
I was much interested in a Beduin inn,
which I next visited, and I imagine that
this inn was much the same as the stable in
which Jesus Christ was born. It consisted
of a series of vaulted chambers, the walls
and roofs and floors of whiehwere of jtone.
These chambers, like the stores, had no
light, and they covered altogether about
the area of a good-sized house. Entering
the narrow door I found four donkeys and
two camels in one vaulted compartment.
Upon a ledge near by, with .nothing but a
dirty straw mat to separate them from the
stones, three Beduin men h their black and
white gowns lay dozing. In another, cave
like compartment were several horses, and
the only sign of civilization was a European
lamp, which was burning American coal oil
in the back of another cave. Through my
guide I chatted with the keeper of the inn,
and he told me that his cbarge.for feeding
keeping and washing a donkey or a horse
was 5 cents a day.
Nearly all of the business and manufac
turing establishments of Jerusalem are of
this cave-like character. There is a nest in
the city Known as the bazaars, and this is
made up of long streets -vaulted over with
these caves, opening out from the walls on
both sides and with every sort of work going
on ic them. The tools are. I doubt not. the
same as those which were used in the days
of Herod and Christ, and the crowd of cus.
tomers is much the same. Above these
streets and above all of this under Jerusa
lem houses are built The city has a half a
dozen different levels, and the Jerusalem of
to-day is founded upon the remains of sev
eral Jernsalems of the past In some places
by excavation, other houses and temples
have been found below the level of the
present city, and there is perhaps no city in
the world which so well pays excavation as
this one. Just outside of the present city,
in building a new monastery, the monks
have come upon some very fine mosaics,
and they claim to have undoubted evidence
that the spot on which their monastery
stands is the place on which St Stephen
stood when he was stoned. Ton see Greek
and Boman capitals and columns in many
parts ot the present Jerusalem, and the
whole of Palestine is honeycombed with
ruins. If the fund, which is now talked of
in America, for making excavations at
Delpho: in Greece were devoted to Palestine
there is no doubt out that under the proper
explorers it could accomplish wonders.
WOHTIEEFrI, Eunrs.
It must be remembered that Jerusalem
has been almost entirely destroyed a num
ber of times, and that it has undergone
two score ot sieges. The walls which sur
round the city and especially those which
run up from Solomon's temple are
from 80 to 100 feet under ground,
and these were undoubtedly at one
time on the level with Jerusalem. I
visited the church of St Anne a few days
ago and I was shown a marble pillar a
large as any of those in the Capitol at
A Beduin.
Washington, which had been dug up a few
days betore, and there are vaults and
tombs, houses and streets under the pres
ent city of Jerusalem quite as interesting
as those which have been unearthed at
Pompeii in recent times. I have been taken
down to the original floor and court in which
Pontins Pilate examined Christ, and I have
had hundreds of antique silver and copper
coins offered me which undoubtedly date
further back than the time of Christ
These walls found underneath Jerusalem
are many feet thick. They are built of
?:reat slo'nes, and some of them are so care
oily put together that a knife blade cannot
be inserted between them. One who has not
visited Palestine can have no idea of its
wonderful ruins. The tombs of the kings
on the edge of the city are large enough to
put a city house inside of the pit which, cut
out of the solid rock, forms the entrance
into them, and a recent excavation of the
pool ot Bethesda shows that it is 80 feet deep
and that it covers nearly an acre. New
streets are everywhere found, and under the
35 acres which is now devoted to the Mosque
of Omar, and which the Turks will not alio w
to be excavated, there are some of the most
wonderlul rnins of history. Just outside of
this temple the earth has been excavated
for 125 ieet before the rock upon which the
foundation wall rests has been found and in
one place alone there was found GOO feet of
a gallery. The whole of the space under
these acres is honeycombed with vast tanks
and there is one here that will hold 2,000,000
gallons of water. It is supposed that there
are a number of valuable old books under
this territory, and the Jerusalem which is
now covered with houses has as many tiers
of dwellings below it as above it
A SERIES OF STONE BOXES.
The upper city, or the town' of to-day, is
made up, as I have said, of a series ot stone
boxes piled one on the top of the other.
Each great stone box is a dwelling, and
these dwellings are as enrious as the vault
like stores. Pew of them have any windows,
and most of the rooms are of the same cave
like character. I have gone through the
houses of Jews and ot Greeks, and I find
that multitudes live in a single nest of
rooms, and the old story of the Psalm comes
back to me:
"Jerusalem a city Is,
Compactly built together.
Unto tuat place the tribes go up,
The tribes of God go'thitner.1!
The town is as compact ,to-day as when
David thrumbed upon his harp, and the
tribes not only of Palestine, but of all the
world, come here to worship. There are
magnificent monasteries scattered through
out the citv and on the very top of 'the
Mount of Olives, a great Bussian church
lifts the bulbous domes towards heaven.
In the Garden of Gethsemane, where Christ
spent the night before he was crucified,
there is a resting place for pilgrims, and the
Boman Catholics have 1,500 brothers and
sisters in their monasteries and convents,
while the old Armenian church has a big
monastery near the gate of Zion, which con
tains 180 monks and which can accommo
date 2,000 pilgrims. There are Greek
Christians here by the thousands and there
are Syrians and Copts by the hundreds.
There are Abyssinian priests with faces as
black as your hat, and you may see every
costume and hear every language in the wor
shipers who gather around the holy sepul
cher. The Jerusalem of to-day is the Mecca
of millions of souls. It is to hundreds of
millions the holiest spot on the face of the
Sartb. And among the others whom I have
met in Palestine is the party of American
Boman Catholics, the first pilgrimage which
has ever been made to the Holy City by a
band from the United States. It is above
all a religious city, and, stranger than all, it
is again becomine a city of the Jews. The
Jews are fast coming back into Palestine,
and the Jews of Jerusalem, who now make
'up a large part ot the city, are far different
irom their brothers in any other part of the
world. Their movement toward the Holy
land is strange, and their Jite here is so in
teresting that I have made it the subject of
investigation, the results of which I will
give you next Sunday.
Fbank G. Caepeitxzb.
A LAUGH THAT BIHGS.
How to Distinguish ibe Good fellow From
the) Sneak.
Chicago Journal.
A young man who is credited by his
friends with being a good deal of a philoso
pher penne'd me up in a corner to-day and
harangued me as follows: "Did you ever
study the human laugh as an index to
human character? It is an infallible test,
me boy. Did you ever know a, man who
simpered andgicgled like a girl who wasn't
a sneak in his heart? And, on the contra
ry, did you ever know a fellow who laughed
squarely out with a good honest roar who
wasn't the prince of good fellows?
A shrill laugh is indicative of deceit, and
a deep chuckle proves sincerity and good
nature. By this I don't mean that a man
with a tenor voice can't laugh as though he
was honest, or' one with a bass voice cover
his insjneerity with a mere bellow. It's
the ring that talks. If the laugh has no
ring in it you can put the fellow down as a
hall-hearted cuss, no matter if his laugh is
loud enough to lift the roof of the Audi
torium. Stand 20 men up in a row before
me and do something to set them all laugh
ing, and I'll separate the good fellows from
the Miss Nancies about as quickly as you
could get outside a beefsteak after a year's
famine. See?"
I said I saw, and made a successful dive
for liberty.
WILLIKG TO C0MPR0MIBE.
Jones Wasn't Fartlcnlar, ao Lone as He Got
HI Dinner.
New Tors: World. 1
"When I used to run a grist mill over in
Scrub Grass township," said Uncle Silas
Bowersox, "an old skinflint named Ab
Jones always managed to go-home to mill
jnst in time to be invited to dinner or sup
per, as the case might be. This went along
most alhsnmmer, when the old woman got
mighty sick of it an' told me I musn't in
vite him any more. I didn't see 'how I
could very well help it, the "way Jones
managed things, bnt the old lady was pretty
slick herself, and told me J. could just tell
him that I was sorry, but that we didn't
have a bite of bread in the house. That
looked like an easy way to get out of it, and
so the next time Jones kern to mill and
lingered by thejirookside, ao to say, I jest
up and told him how awful sorry I was that
I couldn't invite him to stay to dinner, bnt
it happened that Mrs. Bowersox didn't
have a bite of bread or biseult in the
house.
" 'Oh, well," says old Jones, 'pies and
cakes will do.' "
"An' pies an' cakes it had to be."
Hot TJp to His Expectations.
Toung Deadhead "Quit yer foolin' bow,
Tom Bowers I Dls show is a fraud. I can't
see nothin' but two great-AIg brown post
with cobble-stones set .jronnd 'a?' Judge.
4wW j flfj
ri j wsp
PITTSBURG, SUNDAY,
CHASING CARE AWAY
How the Merry.Youtbs and Maidens
Enjoy Life at Old Orchard.
A BAD CASE OP 8PEAINED ANKLE.
TJie Effect of the Atmosphere Upon the
Appetite and Dancing.
CANADIANS A PB0MINENT FEATUBE
rwarrrtx roa ihk pisfatcb.
Old Oechabd Beach, Me., August 2.
HIS place is no
new invention in
the way of a sum
mer resort, but it is
aluminous example
of what most New
Yorkers think they
have a monopoly
of the vertigo-producing,
wave-wash-
v'ed woodpiles, where
,.; it requires diplo
macy, wealth and
brute force to get a
dinner placed before you. Old Orchard is a
slightly diluted Coney Island, with a dash
of Narragansett ana one portion of Glen
Island thrown in. It has its merry-go-rounds,
its tent shows, and its camp meet
ings. It is architecturally crude from 'the
hissing, rattling railroad that cleaves it in
two, up to the horniest and swellest hotel
that it contains.
Whole Carloads of raw excursionists are
being constantly emptied out of open cars;
those young men who wear lightning jackets
are forever batting a tennis ball over a net
A Pretty Feature of the Promenade.
to a beefy girl in a white jersey; a sort of
Chinese orchestra plays operas on string in
struments whieh the damp atmosphere has
taken the heart out of. But the beach ahi
there is grandeur enough about this beach
to make up for a world of conventional dis
agreeabilities. It Is ten miles long, and
affords as good driving as the average race
track. The immense waves pound in
like so many waterfalls, tipping the
bathers upside down, and freezing the
beauty out of a pretty face as quickry as
will a sleigh tide in the teeth of a February
gale. Large-belted men and women of
equal girth tip-toe into the surf, receive
one cuusurao eollee
on the back of the neck, and then come out
as graceless as kangaroos, with all their
dignity and poise gone. They don't enjoy
it. They say they'do, but they don't But
you find comfortable and sensible groups
sprinkled negligently about in the warm
sand being "photographed like this, then
photographed like that," all free of ex
pense, by one of those amateurs that are
now as plentiful in the country as cows.
It is hard to conceive of the copiousness in
the way of young people that is to be found
at this place.
Every hotel is a cornucopia of youths and
maidens, and, of course, that assures a vast
amount of frivolity. Dancing is a perfect
rage. It begins after breakfast and doesn't
cease till toward the following morning.
Twice each week a full dress hop is perpe
trated, and the girls dare to be showy in
their costumes, while the men actually have
nerve enough to come down in evening
dress, looking like trussed turkeys. It is a
strange distortion of ruralness, this. So
fashionable are some of the girls that I have
sketched one ot them in her afternoon prom
enade attire, and of an evening the toilets
are ball-like, as shown by the next picture
of two fair young Old Orchard iles.
One hecomes acquainted readily here, for
a lovely young man is hired on purpose to
promote social intercourse. He gets a new
comer by the lapel of the coat and tows him
up to dancing girls; these latter are always
anxious to sample a fresh partner. I think
they judge a man by his waltz movement
The exquisite "master ot ceremonies" is
more of a success with the ladies than a
United States Senator would be, if he didn't
know how to balance to corners. You see,
that is another peculiarity about the sea-
Old Orchard' Sweetest Fruit.
shore. Skilled limbs outclass a trained in
tellect A bald, fat man doing the polka
in good form would be more
ADHIBIMGLT SCnUTINIZED
by the femaleB than would a soulful poet
with the bead of a Byron. The artist might
obtain shocks here, but the worldly, red
blooded pleasure seeker moves in the good
natured crowd, gets smiled at, smiles back
and says to himself "I like it" The rea
sons for liking it are many, and are sub
stantial enough for summer -weather. The
people here are such as the citified worker
has not been accustomed to dealing with, at
least they are all playing different parts
thft those we saw them in last winter. More
than half of themxcome from Canada, lend
ing a fascinating sort of'fdreign atmosphere
to the place, with their parody on the
French language, their rapid ways and
their remarkable toggery.
It seems as if the noble old State of-Maine
surrounded the place without having the
proprietorship of it Tiro good people of the
State do not seem able to utilize the pleas
ures here, except in a single exciting dose,
consisting of a bath, a dinner and flight
On the hotel registers we find the namjes of
the residents of Montreal, Ottawa andQue
bec, not those ot the leading townsrJen of
Sacearappa, Amenticus and Fryebnr
Still, -the girls get the very newest frhiau
nenavior. xne Bana-ionea.is on, no
-
&'!'
t 9 - K 1
AUGUST 4, 1889.
longer do these upHS-dato belles kiss each
'Other in public, nor gush at all, but simply
touch fingers in so quick and casual a way
that it cannot be called even a hand shake.
It is the newest freak of stylish manners.
CtTLTUBED FLIBTATIOH.
Flirtation has been brought to the
highest degree of culture at Old
Orchard. A young man from New York
arrived here at noon time one day last week,
and, alter getting his baggage into his room,
he took a chair an the front piazza, and be
gan gazing down toward the vast expanse
of sail-dotted sea, with its low-lying shores
edged with foam. To the beach from this
hotel it is an unobstructed half mile, and a
plank walk runs directly from the hotel
She Took the Whole Bill of Fare.
steps to the bathhouses. Our young man
declares that a sharp little girl of 16 de
tected him on the piazza when she
opened the door of her bathroom, half a
mile away.
She walked straight up that walk with
her eyes fixed on him, and, as she came
near, he discovered that she was a clever and
fine looking creature with auburn hair and
blue eyes. He followed her with his gaze as
she moved up the steps, and she wore a sort
of half smile on her pretty mouth as she
steadily returned his look. When she
reached the middle step she sank on one
knee with a little cry of pain. The young
man sprang to her assistance, asking if he
could be of any service.
"I have turned my ankle," said the girl.
"Oh! it hurts sol Can you take my hand,
phrase? Thanks."
And with the assistance of the young man
the fair creature limped up the steps and
sank into the first chair that was come to.
Of coarse the young man lingered, and
spoke many solicitous words of sympathy,
finally drawing a chair up near the girl and
sitting down himself. It was the bathine
.hour, and the hotel was practically deserted,
so tnese two sat cnatting away about
sprained ankles and liniments till the crowd
began coming back from the beach. All
the girls loosed with
KUTIOUS EYES
at the little fairy who had turned her ankle,
and wondered who the stylish young man
she was talking with could be. Dinner
time came, and suddenly the girl jumped
up from her chair.
"I must go now and have my hair fixed
for dinner," said she. I will see you again,
shall I not?" and she cast upon him a look
of flattering hope that he would not forsake
her.
"I sincerely hope X snail have that pleas
ure," he replied.
Then the jade went prancing off in a man
ner which showed that her ankles were in
perfect condition. Becovering her preseuce
of mind at the door, she turned with a mis
chievous and coquettish look toward the as
tonished young man, and limped out of
sight, shrugging her shoulders as she went
At these seaside places eating is reduced
A Piratical Crew.
from a science to a business. It is a shock
to a delicate dude the first time he eats with
a girl who has acquired an Old Orchard ap
petite. "What shall T order?" asked one novice,
as he aimed bis eyeglass at a bill of fire.
"Well, I usually have it all brought,"
she replied, "and not half of it gets away
again."
In this dining room crowded solid full of
eaters I observe that the clergyman antici-
Sates his neighbor on the last slices of
read in sight, that the poet explores the
chow-chow jar with tremendous excitement
and a sure aim, while girls whose etheriality
would indicate a limited capacity in all
save soul come down to earth and eonsume
rare roast beef and boiled potatoes with an
air of profound triumph.
ALL IK THE AIB.
It is all in the air, of course. This sea
air covers a multitude of evervthine. It
stimulates children so that they can't get to
bed till near midnight It instigates here
more successlul dances than one is accus
tomed to find in summer weather. A hop I
or a german here is positively imposing in
its whirling plentlfulncss. The dance hall
is dazzling with a moving throng of people
who are not afraid to come outin every color
that nature knows, or dyeing establishment
can produce. The result ot this courage is
not artistic, but it opens up new and inter
esting fields lor the looker-on, and he issu
able to poke fun at the occasion, for it goes
with a snap and vigor that invests it with
dignity. It would congeal the blood of a
Kewportian, perhaps, bnt he would be apt
to ask himself whether he or these crudi
ties here had divined the secret of true hap
piness. The yonngsters are particularly
jolly, and no prettier sight could be found
thaithe stranded boatload of them whom
I now see from my window as I write.
While Old Orchard is not wholly admir
able, it is surely entertaining. The In
dians, who formerly held sway in a splen
did grove, but who have been crowded into
a shadeless miserymore wretched even than
their hounded species is usually driven to,
are no doubt. reminded, as they look about
them here, of their old time war-dances,and
perhaps they wonder which are getting civil
ized, the v or the white-races. I could tell
them at least, that no Indian maiden could
ever reach the state of civilization which
prompted that girl to turn her ankle in
order to become acquainted with a good,
looking New York man. Kasieua.
Derivation of a Name.
rlflst Hempited fas the dog-cart breaks
down) I hope you're not hurt. Uncle.
UBcle) Corbett-fl'm alive, Helen, and
now I guess I Know why you called this
thing trap. Puck.
A MAGN
By EDWARD
WEITTKS TOB
CHAPTER!.
HE strange career of
Marcus Bodney, in
ventor, scholar and
electrician, has long
been a source of a
vast amount of gossip
and speculation. The
facts of his "case are
known to me alone,
and I now intend to
make them public, partly to relieve my
self of a weighty secret, and partly to
open the eyes of scientists to a great discov
ery. At the age of 30 Marcus Bodney was what
the world calls "a failure." Although he
was in perfect Health, cultured, encrgetio
and in mental attainments a many-sided
man, society looked at his thread-bare coat,
his stern, forbidding countenance, learned
that he lived in cheap lodgings and had "no
visible means of support," and at once
placed him outside its own narrow limits
and left him severely alone. It is true that
Bodney was entitled by birth to a standing
in the community verv different from xhe
one he held. He had, however, become
somewhat soured by his inability to acquire
money, and made no effort to claim from the
friends ot his youth the consideration due
him. 'He had invented various electrical
contrivances, and had patented an improved
sight for rifles, bnt bis lack of taot and his
unpleasing personality had made it difficult
for him to interest capitalists in his de
signs. He was a queer fellow in many ways,
abrnpt in speech and, at times, very sarcas
tic. I remember a remark he once made to
me which, to some extent, illustrated his
character. He had been sitting for a long
time, his huge head resting upon his hand
and his ungainly body reclining upon a
sofa. "Old man," he exclaimed, at length,
turning his large, gray eyes full upon me,
"When I die I want you to place upon my
gravestone this epitaph Q. E. D.' " The
very essence of modern taUlisia lay in his
words. ,
One night, not many years ago, I had left
my luxurious quarters on Fifth avenue to
visit my old friend in his dingy room on the
East Side.
It was a warm evening in July,
and, as I entered his apartment, he was sit
ting'at an open window smoking a pipe.
The cries of countless ragged children filled
the air, and the odor of an uncleanly and
over-populated neighborhood offended the
senses. Little did I suspect at the moment
that upon our conversation that night would
hinge the fate of Marcus Bodney. He was
in a more talkative mood than usual, but
his loquacity did not seem to be the result
of cheerful spirits. 'Never before had I
heard him so bitterly bewail his lack ot
success, but he freed his overburdened heart
to me iu words of touchine earnestness.
Why should he, a man of ability, a scien
tist, a student, a worker, a progressive
thinker, be condemned to poverty and
neglect, while the world poured its treasures
into the lap of fools? What was his weak
ness? Where had he failed to take advan
tage of his opportunities? He put these
questions to me spitefully, almost desperate
ly. Finally he said:
"The truth is, my friend, I repel men.
There is something about me which antago
nizes the very people I want tj attract
There is not a child in the street there who
would approach me. I have lived in this
populous house for three years, and no man
or woman has ever wished me 'good day-.'
I believe I am the only man in the city
who was never, besoueht by a betrpar.
When I enter an office to talk business with
a stranger, I seem to chill my victim by a
single glance. Good God, sir! Am I a
leper or a scoundrel? Have I the small
pox? .Am I the Wandering Jew or the
Prince of Darkness? Why should my lei-low-men
detest me?"
After a moment he became calmer and
continued: "All this has had an evil effect
upon my nature. Whatever warmth of
feeling I may once have had for mankind
has-been destroyed. Hereafter I shall let
no sympathetic throb agitate my heart
From this time forward I shall take my
way through the world coldly, unpityingly,
remorselessly."
He arose, lighted a candle, and going to a
bookshelf brought a much-thumbed volume
to the window. Placing the light advan
tageously, he said: "I have been reading a
book by Hamerton entitled, 'Human Inter
course.' I have been much struck by his
opening sentences. Listen: 'A book on hu
man interconrse might be written in a va
riety of ways, and anion e them might be an
attempt to treat the subject in 'a scifntifio
manner, so as. to elucidate those natural
laj.3 by which intercourse between human
beings must be regulated. If we knew
quite perfectly what those laws are we
should enjoy the great convenience of being
able to predict with certainty which men
and women would be able to associate with
pleasure, and which would be constrained
or repressed in each other's society. Human
intercourse would then be as much a posi
tive science as cnemistry, in wnicn ine
effect of bringing substances together can bo
loretold with the utmost accuracy.' Aeain
later on, the author says: 'Sympathy and
incompatibility these are the two powers
that decide for us whether intercourse is to
be possible or not, but the causes of them
are dark mysteries that lie undiscovered far
down in the abysmal deeps of personality!"
He was silent for a time, and, relighting
his pipe, puffed away nervously. I let him
indulge his dreams for awhile, though I was
anxious to learn the cause of bis interest in
the words of the English writer. I realized,
however, that it was best to permit him to
take his own course in the conversation, as
he was one of those eccentric men who can
not be hurried. My self-restraint was re
warded. "Sympathy and incompatibility," he re
peated after a time. "Those are terms un
known to exact science. They may satisfy
an artist, like Hamerton, but they mean
nothing to me."
Here he arose and paced up and down the
narrow room.
"But I understand him," I interposed.
"I have long believed that the indifference
or one individual toward another is an im
possibility. I was never presented for the
first time to a man or woman that I did not
feel either drawn to or repelled by that per
son. Sometimes the feeling for or against
is slight, sometimes intense, but a negative
condition of the emotions is impossible at
such a time. Another curious fact lVthat
this feeling of attraction or repulsion Is
sometimes reversed upon a second or third
meeting with the individual in question."
"Doubtless that ir all true," he returned
somewhat petulently; "bnt it is simply a
statement of phenomena. What I want is
a scientific explanation of the facts you men
tion." "And that you will never obtain,"' I re
marked confidently.
He blew out the candle and drew his
chair to my side. Peering into my face, he
said: "O, yes, I will. And society shall
pay dearly for my discovery."
There was somethinguncanny in his man
ner that affected me unpleasantly. I pushed
my chair back and gazed out into the night
The street had grown quiet and a white,
soft moon was Just peepine with calm indif
ference above the homes of poverty. Across
the war J could see a workman in his shirt.
sleeves sitting at -an. open window, while a
slatternly woman leaned oyer his brawnyS
shoulder. Why is it that such people
ETIC
MAN
S. VAN ZILE.
THE DISPATCH.
forever peering into the street? Do they
hope to catch a glimpse of fortune making
toward their doorway? .
After awhile I turned to Bodney and
asked:
"What do yon mean?"
"I mean Ampere," he answered curtly.
"Ampere, Ampere," I repeated. "Why
the deuce don't you talk English?"
He smiled condescendingly. "Can it be
that I have a Philistine here ?" he asked
musingly. "You come from your home of
wealth to the East Side to ask who Ampere
was?"
"Ah, he was a man then ?"
"Yes, he was a man, and a great one. Bnt
he only paved the way for me." Excitedly
he arose and paced the room again. I shall
never forget the weird picture he presented.
His long, tousled hair hung about his
enormous head as though it had been flung
there by a mischievous sprite. His gray
eyes had turned black with excitement, and
his face, unsymmetrical as a piece of
gnarled oak, was almost ghastly in its pal
lor. His gigantic and clumsy figure seemed
to fill the small room. His flannel shirt was
open at the neck, and as he shuffled about
in his loose slippers I cojild hardly believe
that I saw before me a man possessing the
culture of the schools and the breeding of a
gentleman.
He sat down by my side again.
"Ampere," he explained in a cold, hard
voice, as though lecturing to a class of
schoolboys, t "established the hypothesis
upon which we explain the phenomena of
electro-magnetism."
"Yes," I returned, rather Wed. "I don't
care much for that sort of thing, don't you
know?"
"But he and his followers." went on Bod
ney pedantically, "have confined their re
searches and discoveries to a very limited
sphere. You are fond of me, old man?"
His question was so unexpected that I
HE HURLED HIS GLASS
looked up in astonishment What had my
liking for him to do with Ampere? I began
to fear that constant failure had affected my
friend's brain.
"You know I am, or I wouldn't be here."
"That's so," he said, looking aronnd the
little room vith a sad smile on his face.
"You are tha only visitor I ever entertain.
It seems almost too bad that it is only a case
of currents."
I was more than ever convinced that he
was losing his mind. I did not dare to
speak for fear of agitating him still further.
"A fine place to be caught with a mad
man," I reflected, as I peered through the
darkness toward the door. He observed my
emotion and went on:
"Come, come, my boy; I will tease you no
Ionger,but the fact is I have made a tremen
dous discovery. The world is at my feet
In another month I shall be wealthy, court
ed, happy, and it's all owing to Ampere
and Hamerton. Strange combination that?
It's seldom you can make a compound tof a
Frenchman and an Englishman and obtain
as a result riches, glory and all the good
things of the earth. I tell you it's the
greatest feat ever 'performed by what we
might call mental chemistry."
I let him have his say, and then asked
calmly:
"And what Is the discovery?"
"Let the results answer your question. It
may "be that I am over-sanguine in this
matter. Heaven knows I have had bold
hopes before, and they have always turned
to dust"
"Is that all you will say to satisfy my cu
riosity?" I remarked, rising togo. I had
not wholly laid aside the fear that the man
might at any moment become dangerous.
"No, sit down. I will go a step furtheri
with you. Do you know why you and I'
have always been friends? 'Sympathv,"
says Hamerton. 'Bosh,' sav I. The fact is
our respective electric currents have always
flowed in the same direction. Result at
traction. Unfortunately for me, the electric
current ot other men flow in the opposite
direction from mine. Result repulsion.
Why, then, are you not as unpopular as I
am? you ask. Therein lies a mystery. Let
us put it for the sake of argument, that the
electric current pertaining to your sensitive
individuality is more adaptable than that
which dominates my unyielding self. Do
you follow me? You acknowledgevhat some
men urac you ana omeis repel you. xou
further assert that sometimes vou like a cer
tain man, and again detest him. That is, L
your electric current sometimes flows in one
direction, sometimes in another. If you
will be honest with yourself, you will admit
that your liking for me not only has degrees
ot intensity, bnt sometimes changes into
almostaversion. Fluctuation in the currents,
sir. Just think of my theory for a moment
Does it not explain a vast number of social
phenomena? Take matrimony, for instance.
Two young people are drawn irresistibly to
ward each other. They marry. Alter a
time the currents become disturbed. Per-
f'L .
stV ICtPMt 3v
g wjm? c W
"Welcome, Welcome, Old Jfan."
haps some night the husband comes horns
with his electricity flowing from his feet to
his head. It is the first time that this ha
occurred. His gentle wife has calmly .
maintained a current whicn flows frf m her
head to her feet, and greets him as usual.
XTltimate result divorce. Do you follow
me?"
"Whew! Well, I cannot honestly say
that I do. But I'm not a scientific man. t
Perhaps if I knew more about the subject I '
might grasp your meaning more readily, t
Even admitting, however, that you are right,
in the main, I really cant't see how your
discovery will do you the slightest good. It t
is interesting, and, if you could prove yourV
propositions, might give you some notoriety
in certain circles. But von talk of wealth. i
power and all that. What do you mean?" fa
"My dear boy," he remarked in a pater.
nal way, and with a ring of triumph in hit
penetrating voice; "the step from such a dis
covery to its practical application is very
short. Ton have known me only as a theor
ist, a reader, a talker. You must not for
get that I am a practical electrician, a me
chanic, an inventor and a desperate man."
He said the last two words under his
breath, as though rather ashamed of them.
In a moment he went on:
"I have not yet solved all the problem
presented to me, but you will admit that if
a man could obtain complete control of his
own electric currents, and at the same time
be able to learn the direction in which tha
current of another person with whom be was
conversing, was flowing, he could fascinate
or antagonize that person at will. Further
more, if he could control the strength of his
own current he could moderate or increase,
that attraction or repulsion at pleasure.
Then would all the prizes of the earth be his.
For know, my friend, that it is not merit,
nor intellect nor energy, nor will, nor ona
of a thousand other things conducive to suc
cess, which is the most potent factor in tha
attainment thereof. Give me only tha
power to win the affection of men and women
and I will squeeze lrom this queer world all Tt
that men hold dear. I have seen men who
were pygmies beside me intellectually far T
outstrip me in the race of life, because 'they g
wcio wuai js emeu magnetic. Jiiy
friend," here he arose and drew himself ud
to his full Leight; "my friend, I am about
to become a magnetic man."
I walked home musingly. The air was
cool, for midnight had come, and the moon
looked down on a city grateful for tha
TO THE FLOOB IX A BAGS.
bracing breeze which blew in from the sea.
"Is Marcus Bodney a madman or a genius?"
was the problem in my mind. Little did I
imagine how important to me would be tha
solution ot that question.
CHAPTER IL
Weeks passed, but I did not see Bodney
again. In placing my friendship for him
upon, a purely scientific basis, he had
shocked my tenderest feelings. Fori had
been unselfish in my intercourse with him,
and had often sacrificed my inclinations for
the sake of cheering him up by my presence".
My Fiancee Fell Fainting Into 2fy Arm,
I would and could have dose more for him
than I had, if he had not been snch a proud,
unapproachable fellow; but, nevertheless,
what small attentions he would accept I had
always gladly rendered. I was annoyed,
therefore, at the materialistic interpretation
he had placed noon my affection for him,
and could not persuade myself to see him
again.
- It was early in the fall before I heard of
him. One day I read in a newspaper that
the War Department had adopted "tha
Bodney sight lor rifles." At the time I did
not realize that the item referred to my
friend's device, but not long afterward X
read that Marcns Bodney, inventor of tha
improved rifle-sight had become manager
of the Graball Electric Motor Company. I
at once wrote him a letter of congratulation,
to which he returned no answer. A week
later a column was devoted in one of tha
morning journals to a description of Marcus
Rodney's inventions, and the article stated
incidentally that "this wonderful genius"
was rapidly acquiring a large fortune Irom
his royalties. The writer also asserted that
"Mr. Rodney is one of the most fascinating
men in the country, possessing a personal
ity which attracts men instantly and sur
rounds him with warm and enthusiastic
friends."
"Do you know Marcus Bodney?" I was
asked at my club one night
"Yes, I used to be intimately acquainted
with him. Why?"
".Well, his name is up for membership.
His proposers are so uncompromising in
their praise that they hare almost made hia
a laughing-stock in the committee. What
sort of a fellow is he?"
"A gentleman and a gonias. He will be
a valuable addition to the club."
I said this perfunctorily, though, to tell
the truth, I did not look forward to Rod
ney s admission with any great pleasure.
His picture, as I had last seen him, was la
my mind and 1 could not imagine him as a
. a n.o)l Alnl. h a .. Td .1 Ia.1.. .!
nowever, I was surprised to find that I had
done him an injustice. I had entered tha
smoking room ot the club one evening after
dinner, when my attention was instantly
attracted by a tall, striking-looking man
dressed richly, but in good taste, who was
puffing a cigar in front of the wood firo
which crackled in the grate. The back of
his head looked familiar, and as I stepped
forward he turned toward me. It was
Marcus Rodney. The old fondness for h
bKf"
VJ
t2&.