THE 6CB4KTOK TBIBUNE SATTJBDAY JiORNINtf. AUGUST 3. 18.
It
Of and About
Makers of Books.
Notices of Recent Interesting Volumes and
Chats Concerning Literary Men and Women.
A LOST NAPOLEON.
i " '
Gilbert Parker's Best Novel.
Gilbert Parker, now familiar name
to th up-to-date reader of book was
lea than three year ago practically
unknown to the great majority of pa
trons of the libraries and the book
stall. Canadian born, he act out. how
ever, to depict la fitting color the
Dlcturesoue end many-elded life of the
Ensrluh-and-Frenc!h colonial ot Bri
tish North Aimertca. and in "Pierre and
Hi People" succeeded ao well that the
effort made him famous. Ho to yet
young; he k poaaeased of toe sympa
thetic interest amd nemd-co-operat ion of
a continually widening circle of ad
mirers, who recognize at once the possi
bilities of hla flekt and of hie pen: and
ft I therefore natural What a book com
posed In the kindly Tight of these n-e-wiy-vn
advantage should be his best. It
did not need the ponderous) verdict of
the London Athenaeum to convince the
reader of "wheni Valmond Came to
Ponrtiac" (which Is delightfully put be
tween boards by Stone & Kimball. Chi
cago) th.it in this artistic utilization of
the tradition of a lost Mapofcon, extra
nuptial offspring of Bonaparte ot St.
Helena. Mr. iParker ha done work that
projects out far and clear above any of
tts kind In the passing year.
I -A Typical Canadian Villate.
In his very first chapter, our author
reveula with fine deftness of touch his
skill In word-e.'chlri;. The picture is
ttiat ot the little villas,? of Pontlac,
type forever of all the villages of the
queen'c dominion; and It stand forth,
clear and quaint:
On one corner stood the house of Mon
sieur Caron, the avocat; on another, the
shop of the Little Chemist; on another, the
office of Medallion, the auctioneer; and on
the last, the Hotel Louis Qulnie. The chief
characteristics of Monsieur Garon's house
were its brass doorknobs and the verdant
luxuriance of the vines that climbed Us
sides; of the Little Chemist- shop, the per
fect whiteness of the building-, the rolls of
sober wall paper, and the bottl.s of col
ored water In the windows; of Medallion's,
the stoop that surrounded three sides of
tb building and the notices of sales
tacked up, pasted up. on the front; of the
Hotel Louis Qulnze, the deep dormer win
dows, the solid timbers and tha veranda
that gave Its front distinction for this
veranda had been the pride of several gen
erations of landlords, and its heavy carv
ings and bulky grace were worth even
snore admiration than Pontiso gave to It
The square which tho two roads and the
four corners mode was, on week days, the
rendezvous of Pontlac, and the whole
parish; on 8unday mornings the rendez
vous was shifted to the lurge church on
the hillside, beside which was the house
of the cure, Monsieur Fabre. Traveling
toward the south out of the silken haze
of a midsummer day, you would come in
time to the hills of Maine; north, to the
city of Quebec and the river St. Lawrence;
east, to the ocean, and wsst, to the Great
Lakes and the land of the English. Ovor
this bright province Britain raised her
flag, but only Medallion and a few others
loved It for 'Its own sake, or saluted It In
the English language.
IT.-Thc Coming of the Prince.
There come to Pontiao one July night
a generation ago a young man -who
was destined to make history for the
little village. He first appears on ithe
veranda-etoop of the Hotel Louis
Qulnze.
When you came to study him closely
some sense of time and experience In his
look told you that he might be thirty-eight,
although his few gray hairs seamed but to
emphasize a certain youthfulr.ess In him.
His eye was full, singularly clear, almost
benign; at one moment It gave the Impres
sion of resolution, at another It suggested
the wayward abstraction of the dreamy.
He was well-figured, with a hand of sin
gular whiteness, suggesting In Its breadth
more the man of action than of medita
tion. But it was a contradiction, for as
you saw it rise and fall, you were struck
by Its dramatic delicacy; as It rested on
the railing of the veranda, by Its latent
power. Tou faced incongruity every
where. His dress was bizarre, his face al
most classical, the brow clear and strong,
the profile good to the mouth, where there
showed a combination of sensuous r.eas
and adventure. Yet in the face there was
an elusive sadness, strangly out of keep
ing with the long linen coat, frilled shirt.
the flowered waistcoat, lavender trousers,
boots of enamelled leather and straw hat
with white linen streamers. It was a
whimsical picture.
. This singular personage amuses htm
tclf for a time by tossing hot pennies
Into the street, for the children to
scramble for; and then, when Parpon,
a dwarf, by accident eflngs a song the
chorus of which ends with the exclama
tion "Vive le rol, la irelne! Vive Na
poleon!" he suddenly draws himself up
with an Involuntary gesture of pride
and soon makes the children this
speech:
"My children," he said, "my name Is
Valmondl We have begun well; let us be
better friends. I have come from afar
off, to be one of you. to stay with you for
awhile who knows how long how long?"
He placed a finger meditatively on his
IJIps. sending a sort of mystery Into his look
and bearing. "You are French, and so am
I. You are playing on the shores of life,
and so am I. You are beglnlng to think
Jmd dream, and so am I, We are only chil
Jdrea until we begin to make our dreams
I our Ufa. 80 I am one with you, for only
I bow do I step from dream to action. My
I children, you shall be my brothers, and
I together we will sow the seed of action,
I end reap the grain; we will make a happy
I garden of flowers, and violets shall bloom
I I everywhere out of our' dream, every
1 where. Violets, mr children, nluck the
wild violet, and bring them to me, and I
will give you sliver for them and I will
love you. Never forget," he added with a
swelling voice, "that you owe you first
duty to your mothers, and afterwards to
your country, and to the spirit of France.
1 see afar" he looked toward the setting
sun, and stretched out his arm dramatic
ally, yet auoh was the 4 repressiveness of
his voice and person that not even the
young Seigneur or Medallion smll?d "1
See afsr," he repeated, "the glory of
dreams fulfilled, after toll, and struggle,
and loss; and I call upon you now to un
furl the white banner of justice, and lib
erty, and the restoration!"
The good women who listened guessed
little of what he meant by the fantastic
sermon; but they wiped their eyes In sym
pathy.and gathered their children to them,
and said, "Poor gentleman, poor gentle
man!" and took him Instantly to their
hearts. The men were mystified, but Wine
and rhetoric had fired them and they
cheered him no one knew why.
m.-Valmond'a Identity oaesaed.
Thank to ttoe superior Intuition of
Mm aett It was a woman who first Iden
tified the mysterious but all-captivat-Ing
stranger. 1 When and how are
charmingly narrated below:
0 ear Valraond sprang ever a fence,
so from the band of coquetlsh Ellse
fca-ttr a as, ii a kaot which ;
t j-j.-. it i ' I .c: ,n v.; .
the
she In vain had tried to break. Not satis
fied with this, he piled full of wood the
stone oven outside the house, and carried
water to her from the spring. This came
from aatural kindness, tot he did not see
the tempting look she gave him. nor the
Invitation in her eye as he turned to leave
her. He merely asked her name. But
after he had gone, as though be had for
gotten, or remembered, something, he
leaped the fence again, came up to her
with an air ef half abstraction, half cour
tesy, took both hor hands In his, and be
fore she could recover herself, kissed her
on the cheeks In a paternal sort of way,
saying, "Adieu, my child!" and l?ft her.
Back to her, as he went away, there
came tho words of tho song of Parpon, tho
dwarf:
"Gold and silver ho will bring,
Vive le rol, la relne!
And eke the daughter of a king
Vivo Napoleon!"
She went about her work, the song In her
ears, and the words of the refrain beat In
and out, out and In "Vive Napoleon!"
Her brow was troubled., and she perched
her head on this sldo and on that, as she
tried to guess what th dwarf had meant.
At last she sat down on a bench at the
door ot her home, and the summer after
noon sun spent Its glories on her, for the
sunflowers and hollyhocks were round her,
and the warmth gave her face a shining
health and Joyousnoss. There she brood'
ed till she heard the voloe of h r mother
calling across tlTe meadow near, and she
arose with a sigh, softly repeating Par-
pon's words, "He Is a great man.
In th3 middle of the night she sturted
up from a sound sleep, and, with a little
cry. whispered into the silence, "Napoleon
Napoleon!"
IV-A Critical Fmcrgoocf.
Before we come to the climax ot our
story, which at best can be only
glanced at, there Is one other prelimi
nary scene which strikingly exhibits
the stranger's peculiar power over men.
Let it be said that after a brief time,
all Pontlac had begun to ferment with
the belief that It was sheltering a lineal
descendant of the great Corslcan, to
whom would Boon be given the signal
of destiny which was to restore the em
pire in the beloved motherland. News
of this feeling naturally spread abroad.
It came. In season, to the ears of old
Snrgeant Eustace Lagroln. of the Old
Guard, who had fought with the Great
Emperor at Waterloo, and In his army
on twenty other battlefields. The writ
ing which follows, we would have our
readers observe, Is genuine literature:
When the gossip came to Lagroin, at
Ville Bambord, 'fifty miles distant, his dim
eyes flared out from the distant sky of
youth and memory, his lips pursed In
anger, and he got to his feet, his stick
pounding angrily on the ground.
"Tut! tut!" said he. "A lie! a pretty lie!
I knew all ths Napoleons Joseph, Lucten,
Louis, Jerome, Caroline, Pauline all! I
have seen them everyone. And their chil
drenpah! Who can deceive me? I will
go to Pontlag, I will see to this tomfool
ery. I'll bring the rascal to the drum
head. Does he think there is no one?
Pish! I will spit him at the first stroke.
Here, here, Manette," he cried to his
grandaughter, "fetch out my uniform,
give it an airing, and see to the buttons.
I will show this brag how one of the Old
Quard looked at Saint Jean. Quick, my
sabre polish; I'll clean my musket, and to
morrow I will go to Pontlac. I'll put the
scamp through his facings but yes, I
am eighty-five, but I have an arm of
thirty!"
True to his word, the next morning at
daybreak he started to walk to Pontlac,
accompanied for a mile or so by Manette
and a few of the villagers. "See you. my
child." ho said, "I will stay with my niece.
Desire Malboir and her daughter Ellse
there In Pontlac. You shall hear how I
fetch that vagabond to his potage!" ,
Valmond had purchased a tolerable
white horse through Medallion, and he
was now seen riding about the parish,
dressed after the manner of the First Na
poleon, with a cocked hat, and a short
sword at his side. He rode well, and the
silver and pennies he scattered were most
fruitful of effect from the martial eleva
tion. He happened to be riding Into the
village at one end as Sergeant Lagroln
entered It at the other, each going toward
the Louis Qulnze..- Valmond knew nothing
of Sergeant Lagroln, so that what fol
lowed was of the Inspiration of the mo
ment. It sprang from his wit, and from his
knowledge of Napoleon and the Napo
leonic history, a knowledge which had
sent Monsieur Garon, the avocat, Into
tears of Joy, and afterward off to the
Manor house and also to the Selgneury,
full of praise of him.
Catching sight of the Irafe sergeant, the
significance of the thing flashed to his
brain, and, sitting very straight, Valmond
rode steadily down towards the old sol
dier. The sergeant had drawn notice as
he came up the street, and people thronged
to their doors, and children followed the
gray, dust-covered veteran Irf his last
century uniform. He eame as far as
the Louis Qulnze, and then, looking up on
the road, he saw the white horse, the
cocked hat, the white waistcoat, and the
long gray coat. He brought his stick
down smartly en the ground, drew himself
up, squared his shoulders and said: "Cour
age, Eustace Lagroln. If Is not forty
rrussians, out one rogue. Crush him!
Down with the pretender!"
Bo, with a defiant light In hJs eye, he
came on, the old uniform sagging loose
ly on the shrunken body, which yet was
soldier-like from head to foot. Years of
camp and discipline and battle and en
durance were in the whole aspect of "the
man. He was no more of Pontiao and
this simple lire than Valmond himself.
So they neared each other, the chal
lenger arid the challenged,' the' champion
and tho Invader; and quickly the village
emptied Itself out to see. -
When Valmond came so close that he
could see every detail of the old man's uni
form, he suddenly reined In his horse,
drew him back on his haunches with his
left hand, and with his right saluted, not
the old sergeant, but the coat of the Old
Guard, to which his eyes were directed.
Mechanically the hand of the senreant
came to his cap, then, with an angry
movement, tne old man seemed as though
he would attack him.
Valmond sat very still, his right hand
thrust In his bosom, his forehead bent,
his eyes calmly, resolutely, yet distantly.
looking at the sergeant, who grew sud
denly still also, while the people watched
and wondered.
A soft light passed across Valmond's
face, relieving Its theatrical firmness, and
tne nan contemtuous curl of his lln.
He knew well enough that this event
would make or unmake him In Pontlac.
But this sudden gentleness was not all
assumed; for the ancient uniform of the
sergeant touched something within him,
tne true oomeuian or the true Napoleon,
ana it seemed as tr he might -get from' his
horse and take the old soldier In his arms.
He rode forward, and paused again,1 with
not more- than fifteen feet between them.
The sergeant's brain was going round like
a top. It was not. he that challenged,
after all. !.V 4 .i..r :,"v v
f'SoMfer of the Old Ouard.t erted .Vol.
mond, In a clear, ringing --ale, "how far
Is It to FTiedland?" .... P.; ' 7i
Like a machine the veteran'! hand Went
to his cap, and he answered:
"To rrledland the width of a ditch!"
His voloe shook as be said it. and the
world to-his was all a muddle for th
question Napoleon the Great had asked
a private after that battle on the Alls,
where. Berninpsen, the Russian, threw
away an army to the master strategist.
The private had answered the question In
the words of Sergeant Lagroln. It was a
saying long afterward among the Old
Guard, though It may not be found In the
usual histories of that time, where every
battalion, almost every company, had a
watchword, which passed' to make room
for others, as victory followed victory.
"Soldier of the Old Guard." said Val
mond again,' "how came you by those
scars upon your forehead T"
."I was a drummer at Auerstadt, a cor
poral at Austorllts, a sergeant at Water
loo," rolled back the reply. In a high,
quavering voice, as memories of great
events blew In upon the ancient fires of his
spirit.
"Ah," answered Valmond, nodding
eagerly, "with Davoust at Auerstadt
thirty against sixty thousand men. At I
o'clock, all fog and mist, as you marched
up the defile toward the Sonnenberg, the
brave Gudin and his division feeling their
way to Blucher, Comrade, how still you
stopped, your bayonet before you, clear
ing the mists, your eyes straining, your
teeth set, ready to thrust. All at once a
quick moving mass sprang out of the
haze, and upon you with hardly a sound of
warning; and an army of hussars
launched themselves at your bayonets!
You bent that wall back like a piece ot
steel, and broke It. Comrade, that was
the beginning, In the mists of the morn
ing. Tell me. how fared you In the light
of evening, at the end of that bloody day?"
The old soldier was trembling. There
was no sign, no movement from the crow J.
Across the fields came the sharpening of
a scythe and tho cry of the grasshoppers,
and the sound of a mill wheel arose, near
by.
The old sergeant saw again that mist
fronting Sonnenberg rise up and show ten
thousand splendid cavalry and fifty thou
sand Infantry, with a king and a prince to
lead them down upon those malleable but
unmovlng squares of French Infantry. He
saw himself drumming the Prussians back
and his French men on.
"Beautiful God!" he cried proudly, "that
was a day! And every man of .the Third
corps that time he lift up tho lid of hell
and drop a Prussian In. I stand beside
Davoust once, and ping! come a bullet and
tako oft his chapeau. It fell upon my
drum. I stoop and pick It up. and hand
It to him. but I kept drumming with one
hand all tho time. 'Comrade,' say I, 'tho
army thank you for your courtesy.'
Brother,' he say, "'twas to your drum,'
and his eye flash out where Gudln carved
his way through those pigs of Prussians.
'I'd tuke my head off to keep your saddle
lined, comrade,' say I. Ping! come a bul
let and catch mo In tho calf. 'You hold
your head too high, brother,' the general
say, and he Bmtle. 'I'll hold .It higher,
comrade,' answer I, and I snatch at a
soldier. 'Up with me on yotir shoulder.
big comrade,' I say, and he lift me up. I
make my sticks sing on the leather. ,'You
shall take off your hat to the Little Cor
poral tomorrow if you've still your head.
brother' he speak like that, and then he
ride away llko tho devil to Morand's guns
Hu, ha. ha!"
The sergeant's face was blazing, but
with a white sort of glare, for he was very
pale, and he seemed unconscious of all
save the sense in his mind's eye. "Ha. ha,
ha!" he laughed again, "Beautiful God,
how did Davoust bring us on up to Son
nenberg. And next day I saw tho Little
Corporal. 'Drummer, says he, 'no head's
too high for my Guard. Come, you, com
rade, your general gives you to me. Come,
Corporal Lagroln,' he call, and I oome.
'But first,' he Bay, 'up on tho shoulder of
your big soldier and piny.' 'What shall I
play, sire? I ask . 'Play ten thousand
heroes to Walhalla,' he answer. I play.
and I think of my brother Jacques, who
went fighting to heaven the day before.
Beautiful God, that was a day at Auer
stadt!" , .
"Soldier," said Valmpnd,, . waving . his
hand,' "Step on.' There Is a drum at the
Louis Qulnze. Let us go together, com
rade." The old sergeant was In a dream. He
wheeled, the crowd made way for him,
and at the neck of the white horse he
came on to the hotel. In a moment a boy
came out with the drum. Valmond took
It, and holding It In his hands, said softly:
"Soldier of the Old Guard, here is a drum
of France."
Without a word, the old man took the
drum, his fingers trembling as he fastened
It to his belt. When he seized the sticks,
all trembling ceased, and his hands and
body grew steady. He was living In the
past entirely.
"Soldier," said Valmond, In a loud voice,
"remember Austerlltz. The Heights of
Pratzen are before you. Play up the feet
of the army."
For an Instant the old man did not move,
and then a sullen sort of look came over
his face. He was not a drummer at Aus
terlltz, and for the Instant he did not re
member the tune the drummer played.
"Soldier," said Valmond, softly, "with
'The Little Sword That Danced' play up
the feet of the army."
A light broke over the old man's face.
The swift look he cast at Valmond had no
distrust now. Instantly his hand went to
his cap.
"My General!" he said, and stepped In
front of the white horse. There was a mo
ment's pause, and then the sergeant's
arms were raised, and down came the
sticks with a rolling rattle on the leather.
They sent a shiver of feeling through the
village and turned the meek white horse
Into a charger of war. No man laughed
at the drama performed In Pontlac that
day.
V.-Th. Bubble Pricked.
Need It be added that a man capable
of winning to hla standard even a hos
tile veteran of the Old Guard soon had
all Pontile by the heels had 600 men
dally drilling at arms, In anticipation
of the time when, at a signal from
France, this little army should set still
and become the nucleus around which
ffhould rally the armed battalions of the
restoration? Nor Is It necessary to fol
low In detail the bursting of this ab
surd .bubble of mingled ambition and
frenzy. British troops at last took cog
nizance of the uprising; Valmond's
fickle following took to Its heels, and
only a few faithful ones,, at their front
being "General" Lagroln, remained to
meet them. Lagroln bravely refuses to
surrender, and falls at Valmond's side,
hot through the heart. Valmond is
mortally wounded, and In his dying mo
ments, In the Little Chemist's house,
he makes this confession:
"The very first thing I remember was
sitting on tRe sands of the seashore, near
some woman, who put her arms around
me and drew me to her heart. I never
sow her again. I was brought up by my
parents, who were humble peasants, on
an estate near Vlterbo, In Italy. At
twelve I was taken to Rome, and there
I entered the house of Prince Ltiolen Bon
aparte as page. I traveled with him to
France, to Austria, to England, where I
learned to speak the language and read
what the English wrote about the great
Napoleon. Their hatred angered me, and
I began to study what French and Italian
books said of him, I treasured up every
scrap of knowledge I could gab I list
ened to all that was said In the prince's
palace, and I waa glad when hla highness
let me read aloud private papers to him.
For twelve years I was the prince's valet.
became familiar with all. the Intrigues,
the designs, of the Bonapartes. ,
."One day the prince was visited by
Count Bertrand, and I heard him speak of
a thing unknown to history; thst Napo
leon had a son, born at fit. Helena, by a
countess well-known In Europe who had
landed, disguised as a sailor, from a mer
chant ship, and lived In retirement at
Longwood, for nearly a year. - It waa said
the child dM at mi Helena. The story re
mained In my mind and I brooded onMt,
Two years ago the prince died la my arms.
I was left a fortune, but bad nothing to
da. Sick of everything, one day I left
Quebec, Whit her. I had drifted aimlessly,
and came here. Why. I do not knaw. All
the time I kept thinking thinking. If I
were only a Napoleon, how I would try to
do great things! Ah. my God! How I
loved the Great Napoleon! What had the
Bonapartes done? Nothing nothing.
Everything had slipped away from them.
Not one of them was like the emperor.
His own legitimate son waa dead. None
of the others bad the Master's blood. Ore,
daring In his veins. The thought grew
on ma. ftrd I ii-haiI tfk Imiffln mu,l hi.
son. I loved his memory, all he did. all
ne was, natter man any son could do. It
had hMll mv whnl Iff thinking a kin.
and the empire. Why should such tastes
ne given to a vaieir
"I really did not conceive or plan Impos
ture. I was onlv nlnvlns? a Mmtull..'.
part In front of the Louis Qulnze, till I
uearu inrpon sing a verse or ' vive Napo-
lannf Th.n ft all ri'uho.l nr. . i
. . ...vj, .Bf,uinj
me and the rest you know. I had no
inougnt to go so rar wnen I began. It was
mostly a whim. But the Idea gradually
possessed me, and at last It seemed to me
that I was a real Napoleon. I used to
wake from the dream for a moment, and
tried to atop, but something In my blood
drove me on Inevitably."
VI.-Conclusion.
This, hastily sketched, Is the main
outline of the story. There are scenes
In the book fully as strong as. If not
stronger than, any we have copied. The
author has drawn some wonderful
sketches of minor characters the avo
cat, the cure, Medallion, the duotloneer,
the young seigneur, jealous of Val
mond's rising Importance and Intrigu
ing toward Valmond's fall and Parpon,
wno was to have been the new Napo
leon's premier and there are two wo
men figures In the book, one of whom,
'Madame Chalice, wa have purposely
omitted to mention, that stand out with
cameo-like distinctness as triumphs of
artistic portraiture. These things we
leave to those who as all ahould will
read the book Itself. In conclusion, we
quote from the author's epilogue,
which, In the form of a letter from
Mme. Chalice to the Cure, written two
months after Valmond's death, appro
priately ends one of the finest and
truest romances of the year: "Dear
Cure, hearts and instincts were right In
Pontlac; our unhappy friend Valmond
was that child of Napoleon, born at
St. Helena. His mother was the Coun
tess of Cornstadt. At the beginning of
an Illness which followed Napoleon's
death, the child was taken from her by
Prince Lucien Bonaparte, and was
brought up and educated as the son of
poor parents in Italy. No one knew of
his iblrth save the companions In exile
of the Great Emperor. All of them,
with the exception of Count Bertrand,
believed, as Valmond said, that the
child had died in Infancy at St. Helena.
"Ah, dear Cure, think of the Irony
of It all! that a man be driven, by the
truth In his blood, to that strangest of
all impostures, to Impersonate him'
self!" L, S. R.
THE MAGAZINES.
Chips for August Is chiefly notable
for a 'half-dozen satirical paragraphs
by the "Literary Cynic," of which two
specimens are appended, and a not bad
poem by George Lasher Taylor:
Now that dear Mrs. Frank Leslie la safe'
ly landed upon foreign shores, let us all
unite In a prayer that she will remain
there.
Some mischievous small boys have re
cently annoyed the conductor of Har
per's Magazine by filling the editor's
drawer with chestnuts.
Mr. Taylor's poem is entitled
REGENERATION. -He
journeyed far and late did say
"Thsre Is no joy In earthly things.
Fragile each toy that passion brings."
Wltn hands to head, he knelt to pray.
"O, Mighty Motherl I am clay.
Shape me anew to nobler things."
Past gnashing teeth, past flashing wings
He heard a voice e'en stars obey.
It said: "Awaken! Thou cans't lay
Each sense aside when seeing springs,
It Is through being men are kings.
The soul alone may Joy survey."
Ho hearkened. Where but late, the day
Was filled with dross or mutterlngs.
His voice pours gladness. On his way
Comes light divine through common
tnings.
II II H
The ever-welcome Chautauquan
comes to hand this month with the
flrst Instalment of what promises to be
an exceedingly clever serial storv bv
A. C. Wheeler, better known to the
dramatic world os "Nym Crinkle." It
Is entitled "The Senator's Daughters."
A quite comprehensive albeit succinct
description of the origin, scope and
purposes of the forthcoming Atlanta
exposition; a paper on "The Individual
Standard of Living,". In which the au
thor deplores the unmistakable ten
dencyof Americans toward personal and
household extravagance; and an ar
ticle, "Lands of the English Tongue,"
showing tho growing vogue of the Eng
lish language are other notable fea
tures both Interesting and Instructive.
There Is at all times a wide diversity
of timely reading In the Chautauquan,
and the current number is one of the
best, ,
II II II
The race for favor among the ten
cent magazines gains In Interest and In
tensity. It Is particularly Interesting
between those wonders of cheapness
combined with undiminished quality,
McClure's and the Cosmopolitan, for
these two are fcold rivals In a common
field. It will probably be noticed by
regular readers of these magazines that
while the latter maintains a diversity
of well-conducted departments, cover
ing noteworthy novelties In the worlds
of art, science and letters, the former
relies almdst wholly upon prominent
single features. With the exception of
an Egyptian story by Sir Edwin Arnold,
chiefly notable because of the reputa
tion of its author, there Is nothing at
all striking In the August Cosmopoli
tan, although a wide variety of good
contents makes It well worth Its trivial
cost. Turning to the current McClure's,
we see no departments whatever; but
a conspicuously displayed jungle story
by Kipling which, by the way, Is In
his best vein together with short
stories by Anthony Hope, Bert Harte
and Stanley Weyman, a Prussian war
paper by Archbald Forbes and a well
Illustrated paper adequately portraying'
Bishop Vincent, the founder of Chau
tauqua, emphasize Its editor's reliance
upon what, In studio parlance, would be
termed "bold strokes." There Is no
question that the Cosmopolitan Is the
more finished product; that It embodies
a larger draft upon varied resources
and that It puts too low an estimate
upon Its Intrinsic value When It sells
Itself for a dime a copy. But It 1s
equally certain, In our judgment, that,
stripped of trimmings like the btcyole
rider whose wheel Is bared down to rac
ing necessities, McClure's will gain
upon the Cosmopolitan, by the sheer
force of its bolder projection of dis
tinctive characteristics. In any event,
the public Is realising an agreeable
profit from tht fight. -
... II . II II . , "
Meanwhile, the Century maintain
the even tenor of tta thirty-five cent
way, printing excellent Hterature, and
also good' cuts . made to fit the articles,
and not "written around. The August
number, we observe, contain a gener
ous, proportion of halt tons, tout since
they're quite as acceptable to e.4ne read
era out of ten as the less showy but
more artistic and certainly more ex
pensive wood engraving, this circum
stance need scarcely be remarked. The
literary feature of this Issue which will
engross attention la Max Nordau'a re
ply to his critics, in which the modern
apostle of degeneration stands resolute
ly bealdehls guns. Another contribution
of Interest izr James. Wtiltcomb Riley's
effort to master the 'Hibernian dialect,
in a poem entitled "The Green Grass av
Owld Ireland," which la as follows:
The green grass av owld Ireland!
Whilst I be far away.
All fresh an' clean an' Jewel-green
It's growln' there today.
Oh, It's cleaner, greener growln'
All the grassy worrld around.
It's greener yet nor any grass
That grows on top o' ground.
The green grass av owld Ireland,
Indade, an' balm 't'u'd be
To eyes like mine that drip wld brine
As salty as the seal
For still the more I'm stoppln' here
The more I'm sore to see -The
glory av the greeni grass av owld Ire
land. Ten years ye've paid my airnln's
I've the I'avln's on the shelf.
Though I be here wldout a queen.
An' own meself meself.
I'm comln' over steerage.
But I'm goln' back nrrst-class,
Patrolin' av the foremost deck
For flrrst sight av the grass.
God bless yea, free Amertky!
I love yet, dock and shore!
I kem to yes In poverty
That's worst in' me no more.
But most I'm lovln' Erin yet,
Wld all her graves, d'ye see.
By reason av the green grass of owld Ire
lund. II II II
As for St. Nicholas, It Is the unchal
lenged and pre-eminent monthly peri
odical for boys and girls; and Its
August number Is as good as the best.
II II II
Lastly, we haveiMunsey's for August,
wltih 63 full or hailf-uige half tone en
gravings, Illustrating famous men and
women, reproducing noted pictures or
else contributing directly to the eluci
dation1 of the text. There ia a readable
blotgraiphlcaJ study of James Gordon
Bennett, an article treating of Bis
marck's American friendu, one describ
ing the aintlered gaime In the western
states and several crlfp poems and
Ehort et'oriea, In addition to the custom
ary departments. In Its way Muneey's
is fully as great a marvel as la either of
ls dime competitors,
II II II
AUTHORS AND PUBLISHERS:
"Ben II ur" Is being translated Into Ger
man.
James Lane Allen's novelette of Ken
tucy life, "Butterflies," will appear In the
cosmopolitan.
Frank R. Stockton's new love story In
ine iau:ea Home Journal la entitled
"Love Before Breakfast."
The long-promised volume of Matthew
Arnold's letters, written between 1848 and
ism, win toon sje brought out.
Ralph Adams Cram Is to tmbllsh with
Stone V Kimball In the early autumn a
book or ghost stories which will probably
oe cauca -uiack Spirits and White."
Nathan Haskell Dole will soon publish a
volume of poems under the title of "The
Hawthorn Tree." Mr. Dole is a cousin of
President Dole, of the Hawaiian republic.
The first of Anthony Hope's new Zenda
storlea In the current 'McClure's recites a
heroic live passage between the beautiful
Princess Osra and brave Stephen the
smith.
A coming Issue In Stone A Kimball's
"Oreen Tree Library" Is "Pharals" by
Fiona Macleod. The author Is a promt'
nent figure In the "Scots Renascence" and
the story Is a Celtlo romance.
The current Strand Magazine honors a
Pennsylvania girl by printing portraits of
Miss May yone, the contralto who waa
married In November last to Lord Hope,
Miss Yohe was bora at Bethlehem, this
state.
Thomas Wharton, a new Philadelphia
story-teller, make his debut in the cur
rent Harper's Magazine with a clever little
Parisian sketch, "Bobbo." It has a court
room for Its scene and a company of quar
reling operarbgtuffa wingers for actors,
The illustrations by W. T. Smedley enter
into the run humor of the situation.
The first three of fourteen volumes of an
Italian work dealing with the voyages of
Columbus are nearly ready for publica
tion. The Italian government Is bearing
the expense. In the third volume are 170
fac-simile plates of Columbus' autograph
writings, both authentlo and doubtful. In
the libraries of Madrid, Seville and Genoa,
and In the archives of the Duke of Ver
agua and the Duchess of Alva.
None of the writers have dealt with the
Little Corslcan from the standpoint of the
modern science of criminology and mental
and moral disease and perversion. This
Congressman John Davis does In the
Arena, and he makes a good case from
Napoleon's ancestry and the careers of
his parents, to show that the great gen
eral and exploiter was a born brigand,
with all the gambling and lying, deceit
ful, unscrupulous Instincts of the Corslcan
bandits on sea and land.
Magazine readers know Grace Ellery
Channlng-lMelBon's work and will be glad
to learn that in the autumn a volume ot
her short storlea Is to be published by
Stone Kimball. Mrs. Channlng-Stetson
has been particularly successful In stories
of life among the poor In Italy, but It Is
Its beauty and pathos which have ap
pealed to her and not Its squalor and deg
radation. Her volume la to contain several
Italian stories, also one of southern Cali
fornia and one of Colonial New England.
The publication of "The Vallima Let
ters" by Stone ft Kimball the middle of
October next is a most Important event
for all lovers of Hterature. During the
years of life In Samoa, Robert Louis Stev
enson kept a tort of journal In the Utters
which he wrote to Sidney Colvln, and
these letters collected form a most re
markable autobiography. His every day
life and Its personal relations, the meth
ods of his work and his feelings about It,
all these are drawn as only Stevenson
could have done It.
DI.1SSFI I. OLD AGE.
To those whose days have honest been.
Age brings its recompense;
For loitering In the twilight dim
Glad visions cheer esch sense.
The Joys of happy boyhood seem
But things of yesterday,
And all the past Is one sweet dream
Purpled with blooms of, May.
Serene, to him the autumn time
Whose work Is haply done,
Who fought beneath faith's flag sublime,
With hope e'er leading on.
Before his peaceful fireside
He sinks to dreamful rest,
While love and harmony abide
Within his quiet breast.
No dismal shades their places take
The vision to affright;
For golden are the skies that break
. Upon the yearning sight.
Beyond the reach of sorrow how.
Locked In a peaceful bay, .
The gentlest Zephyrs fan his brow.
The softest breezes play.
And as' tfie weary wanderer
Whose fate has been to roam, '
Thrills with delight when at the last
His face is turned toward home; .
So, he whose striving has been well.
Reviews life's closing aven
With gladness, since Its stars reflect
The harbor lights ef Heaven.
. . S. A. Niveo, a the Kodak. .
Gathered in the
World of Melody.
Malcolm Douglas, composer of the
muslo of the "Brownies." is hard at
work these days upon new melodies
which will be Introduced In that unique
spectacle. The "Brownies" have already
been booked for two years in advance
and will start on a tour westward In
September. The play has been greatly
strengthened by new acts and music
and becomes in fact a veritable comic
opera In a musical way while retaining
all of its original features ao amusing
alike to old and young. The new com
pany which will Interpret the "Brown
ies" Includes Mis Ines Mecusker, so
prano; Miss Ida Mulle, Lena Merval,
Frank Deahorn, of the Deshora Comic
Opera company, and many other ar
tists well known in opera and burlesque.
The "Brownies" will be produced, as
last season, under management of Jef
ferson, Klaw and Erlanger. Mr. Doug
las will precede the company on1 its tour
and artist Palmer Cox will give his
personal attention to each performance.
The "Brownies" will visit Scran ton dur
ing the coming season and will no
doubt will be heartily welcomed by
lovers of fun and delightful music.
II II II
The Symphony society will be reor
ganized and greatly strengthened dur
ing the coming fall and it Is expected
that three or four concerts will be given
during the winter. A preliminary meet
ing was recently held at Professor
llemberger's studio, when arrangements
were made for a general meeting of the
society In the near future. The pre
liminary meeting was attended by Rich
ard Welsenflue, Harvey Blackwood,
Robert Adams, Fred Emerlck and Mr.
Ernst, well known Seranton musician,
and AL Rtppard. of Wllkes-Barr. The
Symphony orchestra thl season, as
last, will he made up of some of the
beat musical talent of Seranton and
Wllkes-Bsirre, and will assist mate
rially In educating the public taste to
the appreciation of classic music.
II II II
The next piano recital given by Pro
fessor Reeve Jones will occur on Sept.
9. On this occasion Mr. Jones will be
assisted by Mrs. Joseph O'Brien, so
prano, and T. Cushlng Jones, baritone.
This promise to be one of the most de
lightful musical entertainments of early
autumn.
a 11
A. 'B. (Harms & Co., well known
muslo publishers, will control Wlllard
Spenser's "Princess Bonnie" during the
next year. They will open the season
with an elaborate production of the
opera In New York City in September,
and at the close of the engagement the
"Princess Bonnie" company will start
upon a tour of the middle and southern
states. Harms & Co. also control
"Wang" which will be given an
other season on the road.
II II II
Next Sunday will foe an attractive day
at the Elm Park M. E. church. Miss
Sullivan and Mr. Thomas, ot the quar
tette, fresh from a vacation, Miss Van
dervort, a contralto, of New York, and
Mr. Wooler will sing. Also Mr. Carter
will officiate at the organ for probably
the last time and at the evening service
will render the overture of William Tell
by request. As Mr. Carter's year does
not close until September 1st, Mr. Haydn
Evans has consented to play August
11th. This Is Mr. Evans's first effort at
this organ and no doubt thl winner of
the World's Fair prise will sustain his
reputation. Mr. Pennington, organist
of the Collegiate church of New York
City, has been Invited by (Mr. Carter to
play August 25th. Mr. Pennington Is at
present drilling the chorus at Ocean
Grove for Damrosch r(who leads the
"Messiahs" rendition Augustl6)and will
preside at the organ. While a student
In Berlin he was complimented by the
empress and is without doubt one of
Ouilmaut's best pupils.
'I I' 'I
Professor Thomas R. Davles, of Tay
lor, has newly completed a mass which
has been sung at Rev. John Laugherln's
church, Mlnooka, where Mr. Davles is
chorus director and organist. The
work is said to contain numerous meri
torious numbers and Is thoroughly an
interesting work, both as regard mel
ody and harmonic coloring.
II II II
SHARPS AND FLATS
Mascagnt Is writing a pantomime,
Pattl recently wore 11,000.000 In diamonds.
Bergamo Is to have a Donizetti monu
ment. Verdi has completed an Ave Maria for
four voices.
Johann Strauss is hard at work at
Ischl on a new opera, text by Davis.
Berlin will witness the flrst perform
ance of the Italian opera "Tartuffe," by
Oronslo Scarano.
Frankfurt, Germany, had 124 concerts
of all kinds last winter, 22 being with or
chestras of from 80 to 105 numbers.
Manclnelll will net, after all, come to
this country next season to conduct grand
opera for Abbey, Schoeffel a: Grau,
Humperdtnck's new opera, "The Wolf
and the Seven Kids," Is about finished.
The libretto has been arranged by the
composer's sister.
Eugene Ysaye will give six symphony
concerts In Brussels next season. Mme.
Selma Koert Kronold has been engaged
as solo singer for two of these concerts.
A correspondent of the Musical Courier
says "the saddest aria that has ever been
written is the addlo of the dying courte
zan (Travlata), before singing which Pattl
still makes the sign of the cross."
Following are the novelties to be pro
duced next autumn In Milan: "Ninon de
L'Enclos," by Gaetano Clpolllnl; "La
Fiiria Domata," by Splro Samara; "L'As
salto al Mullno." by Bruneau, and
"Claudia," by Gellla F. Coronav.
Frau Wagner Is busy completing the ar
rangements to celebrate the twentieth an
niversary of the foundation of the Bey
routh festivals. "Das Rheungold," di
rected by Hans Rlchter, la said to be the
opera selected for the festival day.
Both Herr Felix Mottl and Herr Her
mann Levi have resolved to return to
London In the early winter to conduct
Wagner's concerts at Queen's hall. Two
performances have already been arranged
for, that directed by H;rr Mottl taking
place on Nov. 12, while Herr Levi will con
duct the concert on Nov. X.
M. Nlklsch has accepted the conductor
ship of the Berlin Philharmonic concerts,
which will be givn between Oct. 14 and
March tt. Among the eminent performers
who will appear at these concerts during
the season are Brahms, Paderewskl, Sara
salt, D Albert, Burmelster, Leopold Ausr,
Josef Hofmana, Jean Gerardy and Fred
rlo Lamond. V
The latest German opera I Anxn, by
the tenor Bruno Heydrlch, ef Cologne.
It consist ef two distinct parts, an "opera
drama" In one act and a "musical dra
matic prelude," with the title "Relnhard's
Verbrechen." In this prelude the action
la entirely pantomime, based en the tne
tlves rendered by the orchestra.
When tlr George Grove resigned the of-,
Interesting Notes About FahioUj
Musicians at Home and Abroad.
flee of director ef the Royal College of
Muslo the past and present students of
the Institution resolved to get up a tes
timonial to their retiring cfilef. This, to
gether with an Illuminated address, set
ting forth Sir George's great aervicee te
the cause of music, waa presented to htm,
In the concert hall of the college.
The baritone of the Mains theater, Herr
Strahlmann, will appear at the Berlin
ouera in autumn on a long gastspleL
Btrahtmaan, like Holdack. the Main
tenor, lately engaged for Berlin, was a
school teacher, and his voice was dis
covered a few years ago when the Han
over Teachers' association sang befor
the emperor, who Is said to have encour
aged the young teacher to adopt an artis
tic career.
Tchalkowsky'a "lolanthe" Is another
Russian opera which has In recent year
been tried In various opera houses of Ger
many and England, without securing a
permanent home. The latest attempt wa
made In Lelpslo a few weeks ago. The
critical verdict appears to be that Its or
chestral score Is oftn charming, but that
It lacks the true operatic spirit. There
was so little curiosity to hear the work
that the house was only half full on the
first night.
Edward Dannreuther, who has long been
associated with the Wsgner movement In
London, has accepted the post of presi
dent of the Wagner society, which ha
just been vacated by the Earl of Dysart,
Mr. Dannreuther was. Indeed, the founder
of the original London Wagner society, la
1872, and he conducted many of the con
certs given under the auspices of that as
sociation. It was also In Mr. Dennreuth
ers home that Wagner resided during hi
visit to London, In 1877.
No fewer than sixteen compositions and
groups of compositions are named by the
French pianists as among those present
ing the greatest technical difficult! to
the performer. They are as follows:
Beethoven's sonatas, opus S? and 1U;
Bach's "Chromatic Fantasy and Fugue;"
Brahm'a "Variations on a Theme of
Paganlnl;" Balacklreff's "lslaraey ;"
Chopbi's "Balades," flrst, third and fourth,
and the finale of his sonata in B flat
minor; Liszt's "Etudes" and twelfth
"Rhapsody;" Schumann's sonata In F
sharp minor and his "Etudes Sym
phonniques;" St. Saens' "Allegro Appas
alonata;" a sonata by Thalberg, and
sonata by Von Weber.
ECONOMICAL.
They reached Morelton Inn Just at the
regular guests were filing for ths usual
eight-course dinner. They were men and
both were tired. Later on It appeared
that they were hungry, but this was not
known at the time. After registering they
paid the usual price for two dinners, en
tered the dining room and were assigned
to seats. "Bring us some of everything on
the bill," aald the elder ot the two. It was
brought In regular order. Finally dessert
and coffee were served. "What else hav
you got?" asked the former spokesman
again. The waiter gasped for breath and
then answered as politely as he could that
there was nothing more. "Nothing more?"
echoed the questioner; "nothing more?"
Then bring us two more dinners exactly
like those w have Just had." The waiter
went out, put some cracked Ice on his
head for a moment and then served two
other dinners. They were eaten like the
rest, all for one price, but Manager Mas
sey says It won't occur again. Philadel
phia Inquirer.
Solved the Problem.
From the New York Weekly.
Tired Housekeeper (In Employment
agency) "Oh, dear, I wonder If there'll
ever be any solution to the servant girl
problem?"
Employment Agent "Oh, yet, mum. My
wife solved it long ago."
Tired Housekeeper "Well, well! How?"
Employment Agent "She got rid of th
hull gang an' did the work herself."
POOK HI MAN MATURE.
I'd like to see on true and perfect man
Who never slipped in life's forbidden
race.
Whose work ha been according to th
plan
8o plainly mapped for fitting every case
Just one whose gentle footsteps never ran
Astray. I'll like to look In such a face
And homage pay In tongs of Jubilee
To human nature, good as It could be.
I've seen good people underneath the sua
Who did as well as anybody could;
Some cheerful, glad, and always full ot
fun.
And others sad and almost goody-goodf
But, man or woman, not a single one
Who always did as they exactly should.
Some have on fault and tome, of course,
another,
Th nearest perfect It my good old mother.
One at the church Is always to be found.
Ready to speak the praises of the Mat
ter, His word with logic tearfully profound.
His object to avert a world's disaster.
Yet In the business marts he hustles round
And has, perhaps, on many homes a
plaster,
Hla heart pulsating for the Joys of heaven
Only, exoluslvely, one day In seven.
I see another equally devout.
But full of vanity almost to scorning.
He haa some righteousness beyond a
doubt
Nor fear th awful resurrection morn
ing But vanity he cannot live without
And thinks too much of personal adorn
ing. Against which falling very much wa said
By one who bad not where to lay his head.
Man has been frail and weak and halt and
blind
And prone to go astray from th be
gtnlng. Bo much so it Is very hard to find
One who ha always struck a pace that'
winning.
The very best, according to my mind.
Are subject to degrees of hateful tin
nlng,
And when one goe where grace cannot
restore him.
I'll not condemn, but just feel sorry for
him. Nebraska Stat Journal.
Gilmore's Aromatic Wine
A tonic for ladies. If you
are suffering from weakness,
and feel exhausted and ner
vous; are getting thin and all
run down; Gilmore's Aro
matic Wine will bring roses
to your cheeks- and restore
you to flesh and plumpness.
Mothers, use it for your
daughters. It is the best
regulator and corrector . foe
ailments peculiar to woman
hood. It promotes digestion,
enriches the blood and gms
tasting strength. Sold by
Matthews Bros., Sctastsx
m
)-!'