The Sunday Oregonian. (Portland, Ore.) 1881-current, October 21, 1906, PART FOUR, Page 47, Image 47

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    THE SUNDAY OREGOXIAX, PORTLAND, OCTOBER 21, 1SHKJ.
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HOSIER DAVENPORT.
Hom?r Davenport haa recently returned
f torn Turkey, whore he was aent by the
Woman's Home Companion, to write and
Illustrate a. arios of articles on the Arabian
horse and hts history. The illustrations
published on this paj;e are used by pefmis
lou of the Woman's Home Companion.)
Up. lad; thews that lie and cumber
Punlit pallets r.evor thrive;
Morns abed and dayllRht slumber
Were nyt meant for men alive.
Clay lies still, but blood's a rover;
Breath's a ware that will not keep.
Vj lad; when the journey's over
There'll be time enough to Bleep.
3. A. HOUSEMAN.
THIS bolng the ptory of how three
North American giants Invaded the
Arabian desert alone and extended
the right hnnrt of fellowship to Akmut
Hafiz. the oracle of all the Arabs. It is
worth while to note the spirit as well as
the facts of their adventure, says the
New York Times.
In the world at large they do not wear
their hearts on their sleeves, and bo are
known usually as Charles A. Moore, Jr.,
6 foot 3; John II. Thompson, Jr., 6 foot
2i, and Homer Davenport, 6 foot 1; but,
thanks to the great Allah of the desert,
who In his mercy has spared them from
the Jaws of the hyena, and the great wis
dom of Akmut Hafiz, the seer of the
Bedouins, there ,1s a fullness of knowl
edge In them now that passeth the un
derstanding of the brotherhood of towns
men. They left New York on July 6, and those
who knew anything about the Oriental
moods of the sun wondered, for even the
Arab prays to the east as the burning sun
pinks behind him In the west. But what's
a warning to a man "just aching to be a
hero'? The last words are quoted, as
they ahould b for they express the
principle of the whole trip, and they
were uttered by the oldest of the three.
By the time they reached Constantinople
to one another they wore Arthur and
Jack and Homer whatever else they were
or hod been or were to be was as absurd
a any Turkish spy they might meet.
"What Columbus had done in 1492 gave
them an assurance in strange lands that
even the Sultan himself appreciated when
the State Department at Washington had
pointed it out to him. No ordinary
pioneers wore thee . three giants from
the red man's country, for in the Inside
pocket of his reefer Homer Davenport
carried a small bit of white pasteboard
requesting the. utmost consideration for
himself and hU friends in the name of
the great white chief, Theodore Roose
velt. When later this samo ecrap of writing
was put into the hands of Sheyhk Hashlra
Bey. Chief of the Bedouins, in the rUthy,
pestilential little town of Aleppo, he held
it in his trembling ha nils, and, looking
up to the sky. murmured a nonpolitical
prayer of Mohammed's, and then bowed
his head in reverence over the little doc
ument. The start for the desert from Constan
tinople was delayed, for it was necessary
to secure permission from the Sultan to
purchase some Arab horses from the
Annza tribes in the cVert. which Homer
Davenport, the horsoman of the party,
declared to be the object of their jour
ney thither. It was here that one of the
three, being enamored of the frisky Turks,
formed such closo fellowship with two
natice beys that the remaining two
chrUtened one All Bey and the other
Oyster Bey.
Perhaps the same Arab blood that is in
men of many races, that sends them
wandering about the earth, was in the
hearts of these two, and they regretted
thi affinity of one of them for Turkish
kind.
It was not until after they had left
Constantinople and all her luxuries be
hind that Homer, scenting approach to
the desert, unfolded this theory to the
others, for, though born in Oregon, he
declared himself by .temperament an Arab,
and taking Joy in the belief, announced
that there wore other Bedouin souLs
among his friends In America.
To be eure, this was before they had
spent the three or four days and nights of
horror between 9eandaroon and Aleppo,
an experience which almost eclipsed all
practical zest, to say nothing of the po
etic enthusiasm of the trip. An officious
Turkish spy undertook to question their
passports, and temporarily took their guns
away. Pending an official adjustment of
their difficulty, they were obliged to camp
by the wayside, tormented by overgrown
vermin, with insufficient food, surrounded
by face of alien beings speechless and
mysteriously menacing to them. An in
erpreter only seemed to emphasize- their
complete remoteness from the world as
they knew it.
All three agree that this was the most
discouraging period of their adventure,
wih tho exception, perhaps, of their
failure to get a snapshot of the Bultan of
Constantinople, whom they saw at close
range, and whom Homer Davenport de
scribed as resembling a cross between
Senator Dingier and Mr. Oscar Straus.
No photograph of the Sultan has ever
been seen, the one that usually passes for
him being that of his brother.
Finally the overzealous Turkish spy,
having been properly rebuked by his gov
ernment, returned the arms he had de
tained, and the three Americans reached
Aleppo, where there was a Syrian hotel.
This place, situated on the edge of the
desert of Arabia, had no Board of Health,
and the consequences of this oversight
were almost unprintable. The streets
were so narrow that when camels met it
was impossible to pass, and one or the
other had to back up to the nearest cor
ner. Mangy dogs were everywhere, and
every native had the Aleppo "button' on
the side of his face, a scar that marked a
sore.
It was here that the actual perplexities
of the proposed Journey into the desert
occurred.
To strike out into the Bedouin country
without a guide was impossible, and even
then the danger of going without an es
cort of soldiers waa freely described to the
Americans.
It has been the custom of foreign gov
ernments to buy horses from the Arabs
in the desert, but these expeditions were
always conducted with the aid of soldiers.
From the first, however. Homer Dav
enport objected to this, trusting to his
faith in the' American methods of arbitra
tionand Theodore Roosevelt.
While visiting the bazaars, where some
purchases were made, the Arab from Ore
gon was always on the lookout for his
kinsmen, the true Arabs of the desert.
He was able to pick these out from the
other Orientals by the wild daring of their
countenances, by a certain distinction of
manner and bearing.
One of these, whom he approached by
chanco in vthe street, informed him of
Akmut Hailz, the diplomat of the desert,
and told him also that Hashim Bey, the
chief of the great Anaza tribe, was then
in Aleppo.
"Show him to me!" said the man from
Oregon, and they went at once to the
house of the wise man, whom every Be
douin knows and respects.
He lived very modestly for his dis
tinguished celebrity in a native house,
where the horses were stabled In the
parlor, and the livlny-room was up
stairs. This room in which the -oracle
of the Bedouin tribe received Homer
Davenport and his companions was a
large apartment, with red plush divans
edging its walls. The surprising thing
about it to the Americans were the
guns and arms to be seen lying about
in a country where arms are forbid
den to any one but the soldiers.
After a little while Akmut HafU
appeared. "With stately dignity he
walked slowly- into the room. Ac
cording to Arab custom, he bowed low
to the floor, and then stepping for
ward gave each one a hearty hand
shake. If Grover Cleveland were to put on
the Bedouin costume he would look ex
actly like AJtmut Hans, the interme
diary between Sheyhk Hashim Bey,
Chief of the Anazas, and the Turkish
government.
Although, to the Americans. Hafiz
seemed to be a born diplomat. In real
ity he had undergone a severe training
as chief of the camel compound, an in
closure where caravans, arriving or going,
were compelled to stay in their passage
out or into the desert. This was a large
open square, where more or less fighting
took place, and it was the duty of its
keeper to maintain peace and order with
out soldiery or police assistance.
For 30 years Hafiz had accomplished this
task. ad as Hashim Bey was known to
refer his political difficulties to his Judg
ment, so the Turkish government relied
upon him to assuage the temper of the
warring Bedouins. A trifling tax on cam
els was his principal Income.
It did not take the man from Oregon
long to perceive the excellent qualities of
the excellent Haflz as an intermediary
for his own diplomatic mission, and he set
about winning the old man's confidence
as deliberately as he would play a hand
at poker. The great international ace,
Theodore Roosevelt, was laid on the table
and swept every trick.
Hafiz. the great, the trustworthy, the
wise, ceoeented to ge with the three big
Armed with, letter hy iKc President,
three tioj, Americans' peneiraie fheJarvc!
W&jtes, fraternise vitlytlie Bedonni,
erfvd Bring, home c string
men from North America Into the desert
he had not visited for 30 years and see
that they secured the nneet Arab horses
at reasonable prices.
As soon as a suitable suite of attend
ants could be obtained they left Aleppo,
and from that time till they returned
there, three weeks later, the Arabian des
ert was a place of Oriental splendor and
mystery, though seen through scorched
eyeballs, for whether by the great red
glare of the sun they saw, or by the
monster moon of tropical heat, there was
always the fever to excite the brain, and
running through the whole adventurous
dream the maddening sound of cool, fresh
running water,
"It's an awful thing, that sun, a great
red ball of Are that seems to be there
only to torture you, to drive you mad,"
said Homer Davenport, recalling the
memory of it all as a nightmare without
valor.
"I often wondered, when we were well
in the-desert, how I could have been such
a fool as to sit on my porch at home and
deliberately plan this expedition. Poor
Arthur, who is a giant in size and nerve,
agreed with me that if he ever got back
to his place In Greenwich, Conn., he would
never, never leave it again. No man can
realize what a precious thing Is water till
he has been three weeks in the desert
drinking dirty tepid stuff as if it were
fit to drink. And then that solemn lone
liness of three white man surrounded by
strange races, strange sounds, and no
one, nothing that understood us."
The only American they met was a
woman missionary, who was tolerably
happy because she was returning home.
They did not see the tribe of Arabs whose
souls she had been Industriously convert
ing, but they must have been a hardy
tribe, for it was their custom to cut the
tender skin of their babies and rub salt
into the wounds, that they might begin
life with befitting hardihood.
But In the midst of the tragedy there
was some light, some insurmountably
amusing incidents.
There was the man with the spurs.
This man ate, drank, and slept In his
spurs, but never actually used them ex
cept to crack hard-boiled eggs. And there
was the . amazing sarcasm and wit of
Akmut Hafiz, equal to any white man's
sense of humor. And, too, there was the
Iron cot, on which Arthur tried to sleep
every night, but never could, because it
invariably broke through with him and
left him chiefly prone upon the sands of
the desert. The daily repairs to this cot
was one of the relaxations.
The various Imaginative attempts of an
Oriental cook to prepare canned beans
also had its measure of genial surprise,
and then there were the constant trade
winds, night and day, blown hot as if
straight from the sun, that registered 135
degrees by day and played a silent hoax
MR. DEVERY
EDITBD BL PERCY LINDON -HOWARD.
SOME guy once said comparisons was
odious, said Mr. Devery, an' I guess
he was right. The point to figure
out is which comparison it is that's odi
ous, yours or the other fellows. If a man
compares your best girl's laughin' blue
eyes to a pair of double back action
squinters stuck in the head of a dame
with piebald hair, there ain't tiothin' odi
ous to your girl by a jug full. Not a
chance. She's tickled to death. The min
ute you praise her you can bet your life
she's got a smile on that's all wool an' a
yard wide. An' when you put some other
dame on the pan she's reached that stage
of ecstasy where Heaven hasn't got no
further charms for her. So, so far as
comparisons goes, it all depends on the
point of view.
These preliminary remarks is made for
the benefit of the crowd that Is always
howlin' out about the glories of their own
country an' holdin' that there's nothln"
good nowhere else on earth the same
push that dodges their taxes as a matter
of patriotism. They need wakln' up.
Take myself. I was always more or less
prejudiced against England. Now I can
see where I was dead wrong. It's a great
country. Of course, the minute you begin
comparln' England and America there's
bound to be an odious spring up. The
thing to decide is who owns it. What's
more, odious or not, no American can
spend any time In England without goin'
quietly into a corner an' welghln' up the
game as compared to what he finds at
home. It's natural. Every man likes to
think his own country's the only one on
earth. Of course, he knows it ain't. But
he likes to con himself into thlnkin' it is.
If he can con the other fellow into agree
in', then he's delivered the patriotic
goods. It's his country. He made it. No
body else had no hand in it except a few
selected guys that he let in on the ground
floor- But when you get down to figurin'
there Is tremendous advantages In all
countries that other countries hasn't got.
An' the same with disadvantages. For in
stance, we've got Hearst, Parkhurst, and
Weinerwurst to put up with. An' we
have certain things to offset 'em. But we
need 'em, don't we? Very well. So it
goes elsewhere. France has the Count de
Gasoline. An' if you can find anythin'
more calculated to drive a howlin' popu
lace to frenzy than England passes out In
its national song-writer, Alfred Austin,
I'd like to know it. I tell you, it's not all
beer an' skittles everywhere.
To begin. England is great as a free
country. When it comes to freedom there
ain't no country that's got anythin' on
England. There's freedom of the press,
freedom of speech, freedom In the courts,
freedom all down the line, an you're Just
as free to starve to death in England as
you are in any place in the world,
not even exceptln' Noo York. What's
more, you can do it with less Interference.
In Noo York, if you sneak off in a cor
ner an1 try to starve to death on the sly,
the chances is you get discovered an'
foiled. Somebody butts in. First thins
you know you're waltzed off to the poor
house an tempted away from your good
resolution by some guy offerin' you a nice
slice of dog-biscuit. Now. you don't have
no such block in your way in England.
There it usually takes a man eight weeks
to break into the poorhouse, even if he
mills all the strings he can to get there.
An" he's got to use a jimmy at that. So
Xar as dig-gln' him out an annoyln' him.
Arab oteedLf
by dropping 40 degrees at night to make
it seem cold enough for blankets.
There was no discernible trail through
this desert, but the wise Akmut Hafiz, no
blest Bedouin of them all, knew every
grain of ' sand, and led the first Amer
icans across the wastes straight to the
great camp of the mighty Anazas.
It was a vast canvas city of 10,000 tents,
with 40,000 camels, horses, and men to
ride them. There were no women that
the Americans saw, perhaps one or two,
who instead of using the delicate paints of
modern society merely stained their lips
an azure blue. This was also done to the
favorite mares.
Upon approaching this the largest Be
douin camp of the desert, Akmut Hafiz
became suddenly young and vigorous.
Rising in his saddle, almost standing erect
in his stirrups, he shouted exultantly,
"Anaza"
Homer Davenport, exhausted and dazed
by the terrific heat, by the deadly
scorched air of the place, turned listlessly
In the direction where Hafiz pointed.
Again, the Bedouin shouted, louder this
time. "Anaza!"
"Then I saw." says Davenport, "in the
dim light of the horizon what looked to
me at first like a low range of hills on the
horizon, which gradually resolved itself
into a city of tents, into living statues of
stoic camels, and everywhere something
close to the ground that seemed to me
most like stuffed eagles, but which turned
out to be falcons tethered for the night."
They were received with true grandeur
of Arab ceremony, for it seems there is
no white man of the vast civilized races
that can compare in dignity, grace, and
majesty of manner to the Arab of the
desert. Particularly were the Bedouins
flattered that these Americans had come
to meet them without soldiers and no
doubt the presence of Akmut Hafiz gave
distinction to the party.
"It was like a dream come true." said
Homer Davenport. "I turned to Arthur
and asked him if I was awake: if this
great picture was real. From the time I
was old enough to read I had thought
and wondered about all this, and here I
was, a man past 40, come into the
dream-world of my youth. In an instant
I realized that these were my people,
that I was a Bedouin, born in Oregon, but
heir to the desert. Something of the
sort I said to these people; I told them
that I was an Arab, too; had always
been one, and would always, remain one.
Akmut Haflz at once enrolled me as one
of them, saying that until then there had
always been a Bedouin missing, and that
now, for the first time, their counsel was
complete."
SINGS PRAISES
an' makin' him go to the poorhouse,
there's nothin' to it. He can starve to
death in his own way an' take his own
time about it without governmental in
terference of any kind.
The two main things that strikes
you about England as soon as you be
gin to look around is first that they're
strong on dead ones an' relics, an
second that them that lives is great as
a musical nation. I've see more pianos
in houses where there ain't no one can
play than in any other country in the
world. Every family has a piano, even
If it don't have no inBiijes. An" if the
people can't play that don't cut no Ice.
The piano's there, just the same.
They'll use a phonograph to grind out
the toons. An' the love of music ain't
r
I- B-
i h
k-r 7 r .. : ' i v r. :
confined to no particular class. It
runs with the rich an' it runs with the
poor. As an example of how they love
music they've ben singin' "Waitin at
the Church" for just 15 years. An' now
they've passed it over to Noo York so
that the travelin' Englishman shan't
feel lonely when he's away from home.
Now it's a good toon. I'm not sayin
a word again it. But you've got to
lift your lid to the guy that can listen
to It for 15 years." He's a hero. There
is limitations even in music. But the
English people is really crazy on the
subject. They even tike grand opera.
Noo York hasn't got no further than
pretendln' to like it, but in England
they really enjoy it. It's grown on
em. You can see musical families
everywhere, especially on the streets.
Do you suppose they stand for Eye
talian organ grinders there? Forget it.
Home made's the cry in England.
When America wants to raise the price
of anything they tag It Imported when
HlfU P.
of Fleet
After that there was really no danger
from bodily harm to any one of he three
Americans, and they set to work upon the
actual business of buying horses.
"With each horse or mare purchased
the ceremony was the same.
Akmut Hafiz would Join the hands of
the buyer and seller, and, placing his
hand over the joined hands, he would de
mand that the Arab repeat the good
points' of the horse aloud "to Allah!" If
he did so the deal was closed and the
horse delivered according to terms, for if
there was any false inflation of values
the Arab selling would not risk the wrath
of Allah against the liar.
Each horse had hung around its neck in
a small -bag a Mohammedan prayer, and
the only condition of sale was that this
should never be cut from the horse's
neck.
It is the "belief of the Arabs that the
spirit of Allah is In every horse of the
desert, and that when the Arab steed
arches his tail it is a symbol of this great
spirit. Because our horses wear their
tails with a shameful disregard of style,
the Arabs say that none of them are
blessed with the spirit of Allah.
Homer Davenport managed to bring to
this country 27 pure-blooded Arab mares
and horses from the great desert, and 17
of them are now at his farm In Morris
Plains, N. J. Among them Is the cele
brated Musun, or listening horse. Who,
being used in the desert to listen for the
approach of his master's enemy, will sud
denly become as if carved In stone, his
ears well forward, seemingly unconscious
of life about him.
Doubtless the Bedouins are now con
vinced that the Americans are a race of
giants, and that some day they will ride
across the desert to New York. They
will always expect the Bedouin - from
Oregon to greet them when they come.
Sitting the other night at the fireside
of Davenport's home, coursing again on
his Arab steed across the mirage of the
desert in the log flames before us, there
came a loud knock at the door, and in
walked Arthur, 6 foot 3.
In a moment they were embracing, as
Davenport seized him, saying: "Arthur,
Arthur, my bride of the desert."
He nearly lost his bride because of fever
and thirst one night, and while the Bed
ouins were praying to the east, Daven
port's heart and eyes were set fixedly
westward.
v That was nearly their last night in the
desert, and in the grim white moonlight
of that lifeless sky Davenport thought of
his Bedouin friends In America.
Among his letters he found one from
Blanche Bates.
"She's a Bedouin, sure as you live,"
OF ENGLAND
England wants to turn the trick they
label it Home Made. The Eyetalian or
gan grinders don't have no show.
They're all Britishers. An' I tell you a
good loyal Englishman's heart swells
with pride when he sees five or six of
his fellow countr.ymen marchin with
their instruments down Cheapside
hustlin' for a stand to hand out a few
gems of song. An when they burst in
the chorus,
Rule Britannia, Britannia rules the
waves,
Britons never, never, never, shall be
slaves,
he slaps himself on the chest an says,
"Hooray, England forever."
I seen one of these guys last week
pattin' himself on the back. But I
1 yTMT-.
i
JL
"i
Kl'lE BRITANNIA, BRITANNIA KTd.ES THE
BRITAINS NEVER, NEVER, NEVER SHAIX
didn't see him doin' no diggin down.
When the hat come round he waltzes
away. The passln' out. It appears, is
always left for the foreign aliens to
attend to or for them that thinks
only of music as a sordid matter.
Of course, there's a lot of four
flushers in England, just the same as
anywhere else. The doods goes along
the streets with their canes an their
tabloid coats, walkin' in their sleep
an' dreamin' that they're invited out
to dine with a Dook or an Earl, when
the facts is they haven't got enough
coin to buy a hair cut on the Install
ment plan. They're a different brand
to our doods, but they reach the same
stage of lunacy. The methods of ar
rivin' Is different, but the object's the
same. An' you find very little differ
ence in the society push. They've got
longer pedigrees an" shorter purses, so
it breaks about even. If an American
wants more pedigree it's dead easy
to set H if he puts up for it. An' tt
AKMUT
Drawn for the
mused Davenport, and, tearing the letter
In half, he gave to the trade winds her
He Adnfiires the Universal Love of Music and the
Preference of Coin Over Coronets
ain't half as hard aB you might think. J
The Herald's College ain't in it win
the Kennel Club for stickln' to the
rules. An' of course. It oughtn't to be.
When a man poses as a pedigree speci
men, it's a cinch he's a shine, an' it
don't cut very much figure what series
of shines he belongs to. With a dog:
it's different.
Incidentally that Herald's College Is
a fine lnstltootion. With a reasonable
amount of capital behind it there's a
chance to start one in Noo York an'
make a big bunch of money.
But I want to tell you this: While
the Americans is gettin' more struck
on titles every day, the English in
terest in 'em is wanln". Eight British
ers out of ten prefers coin to coronets.
WAVES,
BE SLAVES.
Of course, if they go together, all
right. If not, then pass out the spon
doollx. Of course, here an' there you'll
find an old-time family that holds its
breath, every time the band plays "God
Save the King." But there is others.
The spirit of democracy's in the air.
It's in the risin' generation. I was to a
perty a few nights ago where there
was a panic because a youngster give
the laugh to the boy with the gold top
piece. He was one of these infant prod
igals. An' of course he was trotted
out to speak his piece about the
"Charge of the Light Brigade." All
English kids speaks the "Charge of the
Ught Brigade." There never was no
other charge. Of course, none of 'em
knows the Light Brigade from the Fire
Brigade, but that don't cut no ice. Well,
when the youngster comes out, he makes
his dcebew by slttln' down on the
floor. An' he wouldn't stand up. What's
more, he would not do no recltln' of his
piece. Of course, everybody starts in
to lolly htm. For my part, I figured
HAFI.
New York Times by Homer Davenport,
I signature, and so to the desert gave back
I a souvenir of its own.
that the kid showed good sense. But
they wouldn't have it that way. Final
ly his grandpa butts in.
"Harold," he says, "be a good boy.
If you'll speak your piece I'll take you
tomorrow to see His Most Gracious!
Majesty the King give out medals tor
the soldiers at Windsor Castle. There'
now."
Harold didn't quite see where the
"there now" come in.
"What did the soldiers do?" says
Harold.
"Fought an' bled for their country,"
says Grandpa, "like true British sol
diers." "An' what did the King dor' asks
Harold.
"Oh," says Grandpa, "His Majesty Is
goin' to give out the medals."
"Will he wear his crown?" asks
Harold.
"Why of course not." says Grandpa.
'Then I'm not goin'," says the young
ster. "What-good is a King If he doesn't
wear a crown?"
Then everybody bursts In an' says
he'll wear a gorgeous uniform all gold
lace an' trappln's.
"Is he a soldier?" nsks Harold.
"Yes, my boy," says the chorus,
Is the greatest soldier In the world.
He Is the commander of the whole
armv."
Who did he fight?" asks the kid.
"Come now, Harold." says Grandpa,
"he a good boy an' speak your piece.
His Majesty is a very good man. He
never fights, and "
"Then why Is he a soldier so he can
give out medalE?"
"You'll see him tomorrow, darlln',
says Grandma.
"No. I won't," says the youngster,
"cos I won't go. I know. You Just
want me to speak my piece an' then
take me out an' fool me an' show me
a man. I know."
With that there wan a panlo that
ended In one guy tippln" over a piano
lamp, an' Harold's mother yankln' him
from the room for a course In patriot
ism. A Royal Bog's Tomb. '"r"' J
Chicago Tribune.
Another of these examinations of royal
tombs, undertaken during the reign of
the late King of Holland, revealed the
extraordinary fact that In the vault of
the so-called New Church, at Delft,
which for hundreds of years has served
as the mausoleum for the members of the
house of Orange, there are preserved the
remains of a large dog. It waa a pet of
W-llllam the Silent, and had on two sep
arate occasions saved,. Its royal master's
life by warning him of the approach of
the Spanish assassin, who eventually mur
dered him In 1684. It succumbed to the
wounds sustained in endeavoring to
defend the Prince, and it was there
upon decided to recognize the devotion
of the animal by entombing It along
will the Stadtholder.
Syropoefam of Demoermey.
Buffalo Evening News.
I'd Ilk to have a view of Folk's,
Another one of HUI'e:
I'd like to have A. Parker amok
Some more of thoe creen pllle;
And then I'd like Tom Johnson to
Advance his views eo tryln'
And then about a hundred words
From William Tomuch Bryan;
A word or two from Bill Jerome,
McCarren, Smith and Hearst,
Murphy. Big and Little Tim
Each one opinion terse;
Then have Thomas Jefferson
Step down from off the wall
And tell us on the level wfeat
He thought about It ail.