THE SUNDAY OREG0NIA", PORTLAND, JULY 14, 1907.
J
imiWimmmtl
iminmimmiitiw
Null
Hi"
m
1
L . -
,- " " - .- " mi.
i ll mi 7l ITT
I
i
11
lii. !
3;sc-ifc -v-' : : y3 ' 1 1 1
r
(Copvrifht. 10O7, by W. G. Chapman)
fLjm RS. FOSTER glanced out of her
11 kitchfn window as she went to the
' sink for water. Up were thrown
her hands, down crashed the teakettle
on the floor, with a screech of terror she
rushed from the room, and, gathering
her skirts above her knees, flew up the
stairs three flights of them with the
agility of an acrobat and banged with
her fists on the door of the "second floor
back."
"Murder!" she screamed. "Murder!"
In the next house look look out the
winder"
. A thump of bare feet on the floor with
in sounded and was followed by a startled
voice:
"I see- her I see her!" And the next
moment the door opened hastily and a
young man, clad only in undershirt and
trousers, shot out and down the stairs.
"Here gracious! You ain't going out
without your clothes!" site gasped after
him.
But the young man never beard her.
His mind was absorbed by the terrible
spectacle he had seen. He dashed down
the front steps, along the sidewalk, and
Into the Police Station Just around the
corner.
"Murder!" he gasped. "Thirty-eight
Boise street in the yard hurry he's do
ing It now "
There were but two officers in the room
and they looked at each other. The man
at the desk nodded quickly to the other,
who, coatless and hatless, cried, "Come
on!" to the young man. and together they
raced up the street. It was raining tor
rents, and therefore, though it was 11
o'clock in the forenoon, few people were
abroad to wonder at the singular sight
of a policeman in his shirt sleeves and a
man in shirt and trousers running neck
and neck at the top of their speed, the
officer clutching a revolver, the man's
suspenders flying, his bare feet bleeding
from their rough scuffling over the
bricks. But some saw, and as to see was
to follow, when the runners arrived at
the house six or seven men and boys
were close on their heels, despite the
ioaking downpour.
"This the place?" the officer panted,
"Yes, In the back entry."
"The gate is locked I'll ring."
The officer ran up the front steps and
Bent peal after peal tumbling through the
house. But there came no answer, .so he
climbed over the high gate, unlocked It,
letting the young man in, and with him
sped toward the back door, which stood
wide open.
"She was right here when I saw her,"
said the young man, as they reached the
step landing. "She was covered with
blood and screaming. She staggered,
seeming to try to get out into -the yard,
but a man's hand pulled her back I
could see his coatsleeve there!" He
pointed to a gruesome daub on the door.
It was the 4 print in blood of a human
hand.
The officer, his revolver ready, rushed
into the entry. There was a pool of blood
on the floor, and the walls were spat
tered, but nobody was in sight. He
entered the kitchen. A pot of potatoes
was boiling on the range, the fire was
blazing merrily in the redhot Btove. Prep
arations for dinner had evidently been
Interrupted suddenly in their very midst.
Vegetables strewed the floor, chairs and
tables were overturned, dishes lay broken
and scattered about. A rack of freshly
Ironed towels were blood-daubed. The
dark trail led from the kitchen through
the hall, where, at the foot of the stairs
leading to the upper floor, the carpet was
saturated.
"There's nobody down here," said the
policeman rapidly, "that's certain." She
must be up there."
"How is it there's no blood on the
stairs?" wondered the other. 'The stains
stop right here."
"I dunno: come on!" cried the officer,
and he ran up. two steps at a leap.
Across the threshold of the front room
lay the body of a woman.
She was breathing faintly, and they
carried her to the bed.
"They'll send help and a doctor from
the station right away." said the police
man. "We'll leave her here and hunt
for the man."
The house seemed to be deserted. It
was a lodging-house, the young man ex
plained, occupied by men alone, and they
were all away at work. What puzzled
him was that the woman victim was not
the one that ran the house, whom he
knew. This woman was a stranger to
him. Somebody plainly had been getting
rilnner ready in the kitchen, yet Mrs.'
Doane, the mistress, the only woman be
longing on the premises was missing, and
here was this unknown femalo being
murdered! From cellar to garret there
was not to be found another living per
son. What was the meaning of it?
Soon the officers from headquarters ar
rived and began their Investigation. The
woman was found to be in a critical con
dition, with numerous knife cuts on her
face, head, hands and arms, and a stab
wound near the heart that promised to
prove fatal. Delirious, moaning inarticu
late phrases, the only words of which
they could Understand being "Oh" and
"Don't," repeated over and over again,
he was good-looking, buxom, of 35. with
black eyes and hair, dressed in a morn
ing wrapper, and, to judge by her face,
of mild and amiable disposition, though
not of cultivated intellect. The room
.cross the threshold of which they had
found her lying was in some disorder,
though there were no bloodstains in It
except near the door where she had
fallen in the endeavor, apparently, to
reach the bed and lie down. Two chairs
were upset, the lambrequin hung half
torn from the mantel, a drawer of the
dresser was open, and a lot of small
articles of feminine wear, its former con
tents probably, littered the carpet. Other
wise the apartment was In the normal
condition of a room in a third-rate lodg
" ins-house, grimey, with cheap furniture,
sleasy window curtains gray .with use,
and a worn wool carpet.
"What I can't understand is who is
she?" said the young man, whose name
was Miles, to Detective Mullen. "She
doesn't belong In the house, and the
woman that does belong here Is miss
ing." The detective looked at him quickly.--"How
do you know?"
"Why, it's Mrs. Doane she runs the
place I know her well by sight. She's
60 years old, with gray hair, and slim
and tall. And I know all the people
that room here, and there Isn't a wom
an among 'em. I never saw this one
before in my life. She doesn't live
here. Where could she come from?"
"Man, she was getting dinner in the
kitchen!" said the detective. "Of course
she beiongs here!"
"Well, it she does, it's funny I've
never seen her bc'ore. I'm a printer by
trade, working nights and so I sleep
days right up here," pointing. "That's
my window, in the next house. I sit
there every forenoon for several hours
before going to bed, and I can see ev
erything that goes on down here, in
the yard, and mostly In the kitchen, too.
Mrs. Doane is in and out a dozen times
a morning, but I never clapped eye3 on
any other woman around here."
"If she was merely a lodger, oc
cupying a front room, you, wouldn't
be ilkely to, would you? What could
she be doing down in the back yard?
You're way oft man!','
"If you knew anything about the
women in lodging-houses you wouldn't
say that," retorted Miles. "They are
always bothering around in the kitchen,
ironing and working little messes of
candy, or steeping tea or gossiping.
Why, they are a nuisance In a house
for that very reason. In fact, that is
why Mrs. Doane won't have 'em room
with her. All her lodgers are men,
same as lots of other places round here.
And that's what gets me about this
woman! Who is she? Where did she
come from? And where is Mrs. Doane,
the owner?
"Hadn't you better go home and put
on your clothes?" said the detective
somewhat sharply. He felt competent
to handle- tne case at any rate he did
not relish instruction coming from this
Inferior looking person in trousers and
undershirt.
"Well, perhaps I had," returned Miles,
who In the excitement had iforgotten
how nearly naked he was. "But, any
way," he added as he started for the
door, "ycu'd better see Mrs. Foster, in
the next house. She knows all about
things here, and perhaps can tell you
something. Besides, she saw the mur
der going on before I did. Maybe she
saw the man that did it."
"I II go In there In a moment," the
detective replied: and as the young fel
low departed he began a thorough in
vestigation of the victim's room, pres
ently pulling from beneath the sofa
a light colored overcoat stained and
daubed with blood all up the front and
over the arms.
"Aha! What's this?' he muttered.
He searched the pockets and drew out
a blood-stained knife, such as butchers
in provision stores use for light work,
and a small leather change purse con
taining a few cents and a key. On
trial the key was found to fit the lock
on the front door of the house. The
coat was in fairly good condition, of
ordinary ready-made structure and ma
terial, but there was no mark on it.
either of maker or owner, by which it
might be identified."
"It's plain now how she got up the
stairs without leaving any blood on
them," he said to his partner detective.
Price. "He carried her In his arms and
got the whole of it on his coat."
"Then how Is it that there's blood
up here in the bathroom and farther
down the hall?" answered Price.
"What do you calculate happened
anyway?"
"Why," returned Mullen, "I can't say
yet. Guess wo better see that woman
in the next house before going on.
She saw the thir.g first, the printer
says, and knows the people here."
So Mullen, leaving his partner at the
scene of the tragedy, went In and ques
tioned Mrs. Foster.
"No, I don't know the woman," that
lady responded. She was lying on a
sofa in her parlor, having been nearly
prostrated by what she had seen of
the crime. "Mrs. Doane runs the house,
and her husband works on water
wheels goes all around the country.
She has no women lodgers, nor I don't,
either. 1 Men Is .the least trouble. I'd
ruther "
"When did you first see this woman-"
"I was looking out the winder into
their backyard, standing at the sink
The sash was down a little at the top!
and I heard somebody scream. i
thought, but couldn't be sure, it was
raining so, and making such a noise
the water rushing down the spout and
over the bricks to the sewer. The
voice sounded kind of faint, too. But
I looked again, and Just then I saw
her coming out the door it was wide
open and stagger against the railing
and she screamed again." '
It wasn't a scream that said anything.
She didn't say any words that I could
hear, but just gave a terrible frightened
screech. Her face was all bloody. I
was scared into conniption fits. I didn't
have anybody in the house but Mr. Miles,
that sleeps here days, and his winder
is on the back, over their yard, so I
run up and knocked on his door and told
him to look out into the next yard, for
there was murder going on. He was
just going to bed, and he jumped up and
saw her down there, and he says a man
was pulling her back into the entry he
didn't see him himself, only his hand
and his arm. But I didn't see any more
than I've told you. Mr. Miles run out,
and I thought he was going into the
place to save the woman, but he didn't.
He skipped for the police station and got
policeman. I didn't know that till
afterward. I just come and laid down
here sick. It was a terrible sight, and
I couldn't stand it to look out again.'' .
"Have you any notion where Mrs.
Doane can be?"
"No, I aint. I aint seen her since yes
terday forenoon. She was around then,
all right, same as ever."
"Anl you never saw this other this vic
timbefore?" "Never! Who she is Heats me. Mrs.
Doane won't have a woman in the house
not to live, I mean. Of course she has
folks, women folks, and they come to
visit her sometimes, but this aint none
of 'em. I've seen 'em all. and know 'em
all, and they are all different looking
from this stranger-."
"Do. you know the address of any of
her of her relatives?"
"Yes, two or three of 'em." She gave
them to him and he set them down in his
book. Then he returned to his partner.
"I've figured it out about this way."
he said to him. "Whoever the man and
woman are, they don't belong here, and
they made .way with Mrs. Doane, then
disagreed over the." lowt. There's no
money In the house, that's sure. We've
looked everywhere but in the cellar. No
body has been down there yet, and I
guess we'll find the landlady there, when
we've knocked off that almighty bik lock
on the door. Did you notice it? It's the
old-fashioned kind, on the outside the
door, made to stand pounding with sledge
hammers. We can't find tTTe key to It.
and that's why we but don't hurry!
Hold on a minute "
"If she's locked up in the cellar the
best thing we can do is to let her out,
aint it? Then she can tell us all about
It."
"Not about the cutting, because it was
done after she was tied up and chucked
down cellar -" -
"How do you explain Itthat this wom
an was wearing a wrapper, if she doesn't
belong here?" .
"Well, that's so!" He was puzzled over
this. But not for long. "We can let
that go," "he said. "Later is time enough
for that."
"I am going to get into that cellar," In
terrupted Price, and hurried to the door.
This was not as difficult a task as he
had expected, for In fact he found that
it was not locked at all.
Knob turned hard, the works being rus
ty, no more than that: and in a moment
he was calling down the stairs:
"Mrs. Doane! Are you down there,' Mrs.
Doane? Is anybody down there?"
It was pitch dark below, and receiving !
no answer he lighted a lamp which he
found on the kitchen mantel and de
scended into the black depths. There
were several partitions for laundry, fur
nace room, coal bins, and ash boxes, and
he searched all the compartments, but in
vain. Nobody was there.
"That knocks out your theory," he
grumbled to his partner.
"Not by a jugful! not the theory, only
that part of it. They've put her some
where else, that's all. But you can bet
it's as I say. Now, look at It this way:
A man and woman come here on some
trumped-up business, say looking for a
room. They know Mrs. Doane is alone
and that she has money the rent money
anyway. If no more, for this is the last
day of the month "
"People pay from the date they moved
in, not always on the first "
"Never mind. You listen! Say that as
soon as they get In the man grabs Mrs.
Doane and gives her chloroform. Then
the two goes through the house it's
cleaned out, there's no valuables in it,
anyway, you can see that "
"How many valuables would you expect
to find In a house of this sort?" '
"We are only on a theory. Of course,
we can't get everything right all at once.
You ought to know that. This Is the only
way I can explain the crime. Well, they
loot ' the place. Mrs. Doane has dinner
under way, and they, knowing the
customs of the house, are sure nobody
will Interrupt them, so they decide to eat
here. The woman hunts up one of Mrs.
Doane's wrappers to work around the
kitchen in, and somehow they fall out
with each other, probably over the loot,
and "
At this instant the bell tinkled feebly.
Both detectives started for tbe door.
There stood a youth with a scared look
,on his face, who said: i
"I've just heard what has happened
here, and I thought I'd tell what I
know."
"Come in!" they exclaimed together,
and he entered, hat in hand, glancing
fearfully around.
"Now, then, what do you know about
it?" asked Mullen, eyeing him so sharply
that he was almost too much frightened
to speak. He glanced back at the door
as if he repented and wished he had
stayed away. However, he - finally
mustered up courage to say:
"I room across the street. I saw Frank
Leavitt, who boards here, come home
about 10:30, and go out again soon after.
I didn't think anything of it at the time,
of course, though, he never comes here till
6 o'clock that is, I didn't think much of
It. But I thought a little, because when
he came In he was wearing bis over
coat, and when he went out he bad left
it behind, though it was raining hard and
it seemed as if he -would need it more
than ever. But he had an umbrella "
"The coat!" exclaimed Price, glancing
at Mullen. The latter, who had found
the coat' under the sofa in the room
where the victim lay, frowned silence to
his partner and motioned the boy to
go on.
"I don't think anybody else can have
come Into the house this forenoon, that's
all. I sit at the window studying my
lessons, and can see everybody that goes
into any of the houses along on this side
for quite a distance. I can even hear tbe
door shut here."
"Who is this Frank Leavitt?" asked
Mullen.
"He's a motorman on the elevated." '
"Wasn't there a. woman with him?"
"No, he was alone."
"How long did he stay In the house?"
"Only a few minutes not more than
ten or so, I should say."
"Have you ever sen a woman around
here except Mrs. Doane?"
"No, sir, never."
"I guess we need Leavitt," said Mullen.
"Give me your address, young feller, and
I'll set it down. . We shall want you
again".
Not many minutes were required to find
the young motorman. They took him
from his car as he drove It into the barn.
"Murder!" he cried, growing pale. "I
know nothing of it what do you mean
who's murdered?"
"That's what we want to find out," an
swered Mullen. "It is a woman at 38
Boise street."
"What! Why. that's where I room! Is
it Mrs. Doane?" .
"No, somebody else it was done at
about 11 o'clock this morning." .
"Good God! Why, I must have been in
the house myself at that time or near it."
He was warned, according to law", that
what he should say might be used
against him. He paid no attention to the
warning, but went on excitedly, as they
rode toward the station, giving arv ac
count of bis forenoon. He said that he
left his car at 10 o'clock on his regular
lay-off of two hours, and as he was going
to the theater with his girl that even
ing, he went home to change his clothes
and leave his overcoat, which was not
good enough to wear to the theater. He
put on his best suit because he was to
go from his car directly to the play
house, and he had a rubber coat at the
barn which he could wear over it. dur
ing his trips, the day being rainy. He
saw not a soul in the house while there,
heard no noise, not even any sounds of
work down in the kitchen. He thought
nothing of that. The place was practi
cally empty during the day always. He
knew of no other woman lodger was
sure there was none, there never had
been, and he could tell the names of all
the people in the house and what rooms
they occupied. The first floor front,
where the strange woman lay, was Mrs.
Doane's. And all the rooms were let.
There were no vacant ones. He Bad no
notion who the newcomer could be.
That was the story he told. He was
perfectly straightforward and lucid in his
speech, and grew calm after his first
excitement, seeming to feel more won
der that he should be concerned in such
a case than fear for himself.
In the meantime the victim of the as
sault had recovered sufficiently to be re
moved tq, the hospital. Though she' was
able to speak, she refused to give any
account of herself would not tell how
she happened to be in the house, where
she lived,- who had stabbed her or who
she was. saying that she only wished to
be left alone to die in peace. When,
later, they informed her that her assail
ant had been captured and was now In
a cell, awaiting the outcome of her In
juries, she showed some interest.
"Don't hurt him," she said. "He
didn't know what he was doing."
When informed that he. would be con
victed of murder if she died, and be
compelled to suffer death himself, she
appeared greatly disturbed, and said:
"But I don't want that I won't testify
against him. They can't hurt him then,
can theji?" They replied that they cer
tainly could and would. Therefore, if
there were any extenuating circumstances
she would better mention them. She
asked then how they knew it was he
and how they had captured him. So the
story was begun; but before 10 words of
it had been spoken, she gasped, cried out
something unintelligible and fainted.
When she regained consciousness she re
fused to say another word about the
case. All their efforts to gain some in
formation from her were futile, and final
ly they were obliged to leave her in the
peace she desired.
' .
The young lady stepped forward tim
idly as Dr. Furnivall rose to receive her.
Are you Dr. Furnivall, sir, the great
hypnotist?" she asked, with a stare iff
her light gray eyes partaking of both
fright and appeal.
"I am Dr. Furnivall." he answered.
"Will you be seated, Miss "
"My name is Johnson, Esther' Johnson,
sir," she said, sitting on the edge of a
chair, "and I came to ask you if if "
She paused, blushing, and drew forth a
small roll of bills. "I have only J7. sir,"
Bhe continued, holding it tentatively to
ward him, while the appeal in her eyes
grew, "but if that isn't enough I can pay
you more later- "
There she stopped and could get no
further. The tears began to roll down
her cheeks. She was a pretty, earnest
looking girl of 18 -or 19, plainly American
born, of Scandinavian parentage, slight
of form, and was dressed in good taste,
very inexpensively. She plainly had the
faculty of making a little money go a
great way. Dr. Furnivall regarded her.
approvingly through his colored specta
cles. "Whether or not J7 are enough will de
pend on what you wish In return for
them," he smiled.
She brightened up at once, encouraged
by his friendly manner.
"I have heard so much about you your
making people speak the truth." she
said, forgetting herself now in her er
rand and becoming natural and earnest.
"I am in great trouble through a woman
that will not tell what Is right. My
friend he Is a young man we shall
marry some time and he is In jail be
cause they say he stabbed a woman.
And she says he did, too. but he did not,
and he never saw the woman before they
took him to the hospital where she Is
sick. And she said, 'This Is the man!'
And she will not change that saying. So
I came to ask you, sir, to make her
change it and tell the truth. Then they
will let him out of Jail. But I have not
much money. My father and mothef
laughed when I told what I was going
to del 'Child, they said, 'the great doc
tor will want more money for doing that
thing than you ever will have In all
your life," But I said, 'Not 'so, because
It Is right to make her tell the truth,
and it is a good action. He will not
charge too much for doing it.' "
She laid the little roll or bills on the
table and smiled at him in perfect con
fidence. "Is your friend's name Frank Leavitt?"
he asked, gently.
"Oh. yes, doctor." she cried, eagerly.
"Do you know him? If you do you are
sure he could not do such a, thing as that.
He would not hurt anybody! Oh. no! He
is good and kind and very handsome!"
She uttered the last adjective as if It
were conclusive proof of his innocence.
"I don't know him. no." answered the
doctor gravely. "But I have read about
the case in the papers. So they took
him to the hospital and she identified
blm? Did she say what he did it for,
and how he did it?"
"She said only, 'That is the man!"
Not another word would she speak.
And they took him back to the Jail,
and he will have to die unless you, sir,
will make her take those words back
and say what Is true."
"Have they found out who the wom
an is?"
"No, sir. She will say nothing, and
they .can't find out. They do not know
how she came there In the house. And
Mrs. Doane Is not found nobody
knows where she is. It is very strange.
I do not understand any of It, only he
did not do it: it is foolish to think
so. How could he, when we are going
to get married sometime? It im im
possible, and I would laugh at It if I
did not feel so frightened of the Jail
where he is."
The eyes grew moist again and re
sumed their appeal. The doctor hand
ed her back the money.
"I don't accept pay in this way," he
said. "But." he hastened to add, see
ing her look of alarm, "I'll call on the
woman, and if I can do you any good
I will let you know how to make it
right with me. And I'll go Immediate
ly. Will that satisfy you?"
"Oh, I thank you so much, doctor!"
she cried, flushing with happiness. "Now
I will go home and laugh at my moth
er and father, who said you would not
do it. And how can I know at once
what she says "
"Do not think any more about it
until morning," he advised her. He
knew that the matter would be set
tled one way or the other in a few
minutes, providing the mysterious
woman was awake and able to talk,
but he was far from sure how it would
turn out, and did not wish to raise a
hope in her breast that , might prove
futile.
A quarter of an hour later, in com
pany with one of the hospital doctors,
a policeman, and a justice of the peace,
he was standing at the bedside of the
victim of the assault. Looking at her
at first through his spectacles, he
asked:
"Madam, will you tell me your
name?"
She shook her head wearily.
"I only wish to be left alone." she
answered.
"But other people they have rights,
haven't they? Wljen one is in trouble
wouldn't you even speak a word in
order to relieve him? Think of that
young man and his sweetheart! Do
you still assert that he is the person
who attacked you?"
"Yes." She said it coldly. jand with
a flash of her black eyes despite her
weakness.
"I don't understand why you were so
tender of him when they told you he
had been caught, and yet now show so
much animosity towards him."
She gazed obdurately up at him and,
said nothing. He men removed his
spectacles and looked her in the eye.
"Tell me now," he said, "who as
saulted you?"
Her eyes remained a moment in re
pose. Suddenly they sprang to life,
dilating as with surprise, then perplex
ity shone there briefly, passing into
earnestness and finally into concen
trated introspection; and she answered
in a wooden voice:
"John Merrill!"
"Who Is John Merrill V
"The man I love!"
"Yes, but what does he do?"
"He is a hypnotist."
"Where is he to be found?"
"I don't know. I suppose he has run
away."
"What is your name?"
Foreign Actors Not Popular
American Playgoers Care Most for Their Own They Resent an Accent,
Especially if It Be German.
THEY were discussing the foreign ac
tors who had tried to establish
themselves on the American stage
and the conversation turned on a woman
who has a high reputation abroad, but
who has not yet succeeded in making any
impression here, says a writer in the
New York Sun.
"There's not been such a clever woman
In comic opera here in years." one of
the group said, "and I have never at
any time heard of one with a better
singing voice. I was with her last win
ter and used to wonder 'at every per
formance why a woman so clever as she
should make so little Impression on the:
public. Nothing she did, however, seem
ed to carry over the footlights."
"Carry, nonsense!" was the answer of
another one who had frequently seen
her. "Everything she does carries all
right, but there's no sympathy in the
audiences with her. She's too Dutch, and
she looks It. There's nothing chic about
her. A show girl . with no more sense
than a snowbird gets twice as much
appreciation from the audience, because
American audiences demand that women
in musical shows shall be well-dressed
and swagger-looking. No amount, of tal
ent Is going to compensate for the lack
of them. Come to think of it. I don't
know of a single - German actress who
ever made a hit here."
The comment of the actor who had
begun by calling the woman Dutch and
ended by classifying her race more ac
curately was founded on fact. There
are very few German actresses who have
made a place in this country.
"There may have been various reasons
for it." said a manager to whom the
matter was suggested, "but American
audiences have never taken kindly to the
actors that came from the German stage.
I cannot recall a single instance to the
contrary In fact. Fanny Janauschek,
who played for many years here, was
not a German, although she played first
In the German language. She was a Bo
hemian, and there is a world of differ
ence between the two.
"It has frequently happened that Ger
man actresses have. shown cleverness at
their own theater, but none of these wo
men has ever made good when she tried
to play in the English. I can recall that
Ellen Berg left the German stage and
acted with Augustin Daly and could
never look the type of American girl
convincingly. Nor have the men succeed
ed much better.
"The same cause is at the bottom of
the failure of both men and women. The
German accent Is never entirely obliter
ated and there is nothing distinguished
to Americans in such a mode of speech.
A German accent is to us the dialect
of humor, and cannot be made anything
else.
"Carl Streitman was regarded as the
most fascinating of Viennese tenoos and
was an institution of the Theater an der
Wien, In which all the- Strauss operettas
were performed. Here he sang with
great success in the German theater.
When he went into English operetta not
a matinee girl took the least interest
In him. He had a decided accent and
he was German. That was enough. Max
Freeman, who came over from the Ger
man stage, is playing Just exactly the
same kind of parts after a quarter of
a century or more that he had while
he was a German-speaking actor. Y'et
he was regarded at the commencement
of his career as an English-speaking ac
tor as a sure star. Max Adolphi, who
made audienceB roar when he appeared
In comic opera at the Thalia, came to
the Casino and was nearly as melanclxoly
as Gustav Seyfferttftz has been ever
since he began to act In English. Hubert
Wilke, who also came up from the Ger-
Lodging " j
V Mystery" $
"Ella Frost."
"Where do you live?"
"In Middleton."
"How happened you to be at Mrs.
Doane's?"
"I came to tell her that her husband
had met with an accident. He was at
her sister's .in Middleton and wanted
her to go there at once. It was late
at night. Just in time for the 10:45
train, and she asked me to stay in
the house for her a day or two and
take care of the rooms. I said I would,
and she left me In charge, fop she knew
me."
"Now tell us how he came to assault
you."
"Mrs. Doane let him sleep on the
folding-bed in the parlor that night.
Along in the forenoon I had a terrible
headache, and I went up to my room
and laid down on the bed. and John
gave me a hypnotic treatment for it.
He had often done this. It never did
me any good, but It pleased him to
think he could control me and put me
asleep, so I always played that . I was
sleeping, and that his treatment cured
me. But I never was affected In the
least. When he believed I was under
control he walked over to the bureau
and began to open the drawers. I had
taken all my money, about 1200, out
of the bank in Middleton to bring to
the city, and he knew I had It. I
opened my eyes and watched him. I
knew he was searching for It. still I
couldn't believe it. Just as he found it
he turned and saw me looking at him,
and his face grew so terrible, that I
was scared and ran from the room. He
chased me, and when we got into the
man theater in the early SO's held his
own better than most of his compa
triots. "When Georgine von Januschowsky left
the Gcrmania and sang 'The Little Duke'
at the Casino she was praised very high
ly for the artistic features of her per
formance, but she was not encourRged to
continue on our stage. It was another in
stance of being too German. No actor
ever outgrew his national peculiarities as
well as Leo Dietrichstein. who first acted
in New York in a German theater.
Charles Frohman brought him up -to act
at the Garden in an adaptation of a
French farce called 'Champignol malgre
lui.' and he has stayed on the English
speaking stage with surprisingly little
trace of an accent. Even Daniel Band
mann. who has always been mentioned
as one of the most successful of all the
German acto) that ever came to this
country, had only-a few years of promi
nence. Thai greater . part of his career
wa? spent in barnstormlng'ln small towns
and latterly acting in the continuous mu
sic halls.
"It Is doubtful, however, if they have
failed while acting in their own language
any more decidedly from a financial point
of view than actors of other nationalities.
The only one of these in recent years to
m?ke any money for their managers was
Bernhardt. Duse's tours have never
brought much money to her directors,
but she has never lost them such amounts
as Rejane. Mounet-Sully, Jnne Hading
and Coquelin. Rejane on her first tour
here never but once drew the amount that
Maurice Grau guaranteed her personally,
Agnes Sorma pleased German audiences
so well on her first trip that Helnrich
Conned booked her for the second year
In several English-speaking theaters out
side of New York. He lost on that ven
ture all she had ever earned for him in
The Souvenir
The American souvenir hunter does not
stop at looting foreign warships, cutting
buttons from naval officers' coats, chip
ping monuments, and carrying away his
torical houses piecemeal. He levies
steady tribute from the hotels of the
country, great and small. The mana
gers of the big New York hosteiries look
upon him as an expensive, though neces
sary, evil. Silverware is a favorite form
of loot, with a preference for demi-tasse
teaspoons. If they are of special design,
so much the better. Next to silverware,
the souvenir hunter prefers the match
stands on cafe tables. One Broadway
restaurant has lost as many as 30 of
them In three days. Women with a ma
nia for souvenirs insist on carrying away
the small cups in which their after-dinner
coffee is served. They beg and
cajole the headwaiters, resort to petty
Intrigues and sometimes carry off the
chinaware with a free conscience. From
match safes and silverware, the sou
venirs include all sorts of furnishings to
towels and plumbers' fixtures.
Hotel men said last week that some ot
the larger New York hosteiries lose at
least JbO.OOO a year by the raids of the
souvenir hunters and the petty thefts
of guests. The hotels with sliver table
ware, and linen of special design suffer
the most. It does not take long for the
losses to mount into the thousands when
the towels cost IS and the napkins ia, a
dozen, and the demi-tasse spoons 60
cents and the small coffee cups from 85
cents to 11 each at wholesale.
Nor are the losses confined to the im
pecunious. Some time ago a housekeeper
n one oi tne Dig noteis round 35 towels
belonging to the house in the trunks of
a wealthy Western family as they were
about to leave. Another hotel man tried
to beautify his women's reception room.
kitchen he grabbed me, and pulled me
toward the table -where the butcher
knife was, and caught it up and tried
to stab me, but I dodged and fought,
getting cut all over my face and hands.
I tried to get outdoors, but he pulled
me back, and I ran again through the
hall, but fell at the foot of the stairs.
There was an overcoat hanging on the
halitree and he put it on. and then took
me bodUy in his arms up to the bath
room, and left me there. I suppse he
thought he had finished me, but I came
to and started for my room. That is
all about It. Only I don't see why he
did it. I would have given him the
money willingly if I had known he
wanted it. Now he has done such a
terrible thing I want to die. I don't
care what becomes of me."
"You thought to shield him by accus
ing the other man?"
"Yes. I fainted with joy when I
found they had got the wrong man."
Dr. Furnivall turned to the police
man. "Go get a warrant for John Mer
rll. hypnotist. He will be exhibiting
this evening in Allle's hall, where he
causes a woman to hang suspended on
nothing In the air. That la the kind
he Is!"
It "was Frank Leavitt himself who,
a little later, took the news of his re
lease and exoneration to his sweet
heart. The hypnotist was arrested that
evening, and the money was found on
his person. He was given 15 years.
The woman recovered, and to this day
carries flowers and dainties to the
man who tried to murder her.
New York. In spite of that experience,
he tried it with Sonnenthal and lost
again.
"Of course the greatest success ever
made by any foreigner on the American
stat,e while acting in English was that of
Modjeska. She Is a Pole, however, and
that is utterly different from the Ger
mans. The next most successful woman
was Hortense Rhea, a French woman,
who spoke such poor English when she
came here in the early '80s that nobody
could understand her, although that was
the day of accents on the stage. Marie
Aimee made a fortune acting here in Eng
lish after she had sung for a long time
In French opera bouffe. She had a musi
cal farce called 'Mamselle' which made
her accent ail right, and she retired with
all the money she needed, although in
her own country she had never ranked
with Judlc and Theo, who never made a
cent here. Nazlmova has made her suc
cess here because, like Modjeska and nil
tho Slavic women here on the stage, she
is smart.
"it is impossible to say as yet what
success Mme. KaUsh will have on our
stage. She knows how to dress and is
in this particular different from the Ger
mans. She still speaks the language
poorly. It Is not to be denied that her
prospects here have been very much af
fected by the appearance of Nazlmova on
tbe horizon.
"Tha Italian actors who came out here
have rarely thought of acting iu Eng
lish. Alexander Salilnl did It because his
father wanted no actor of the name' of
SalvinI in his own country while he was
alive. One son was sent to Russia, where
ho acted in Italian, another to South
America, and Alexander came out here.
Thy all received their share of their fa
ther's fortune for agreeing to do - this.
Alexander had achieved a fair place when
he die i. but was by no means in the first
rank of stars. Slgnor MajeronI and his
wife were popular actors a score of years
ago, and their son has now come back
from Australia to act here. Ristori
played here for only one season in Eng
lish and made a failure of that.
"There are very few actors from the
continental countries that ever threatened
tho popularity of the natives. Our own
actors are always liked best."
Hunter's Ways
but soon gave it up in despair. He lost
nine bureau scarfs in a week. A pin
cushion a foot square and weighted with
sand was stolen from the bureau. The
towels were cut from the locks which
held them to the wall.
"I've had experience In big hotels from
New Hampshire to Florida," said tha
manager of a noted Broadway house,
"and have found the souvenir evil every
where. ' I don't think J50.000 a year loss
for a big hotel exaggerates the truth, al
though hotel men don't like to own up
to the looting, and try to be optimistic.
"When Allen M. Gunther built the Jef
ferson Hotel in Richmond the furnishings
were as elegant and complete as those
of a fine private home. The souvenir
hunters carried away more than 200 small
coffee spoons in the first three months.
Dozens of candlesticks of a special de
sign, and bearing the monogram of the
house, disappeared in the same way.
They even took the fine blankets off the
beds blankets with "The Jefferson"
woven Into them In colors."
The souvenir hunter Is taken so much
as a matter of course by the hotel men
that in some of the big hosteiries there
Is a system of selling certain articles to
the guests who ask for them. A pro
hibitive price Is put on them. Etven
that does not discourage the souvenir
mania. New York Times.
Htrautlc.
Minna Irving- in Llpplncott's.
We hired a son of Erin's Isle,
But newly o'er the briny.
And dressed him In a purple coat
And patent pumps so shiny.
Alas! we snt him nut for huns,
But. guided by the wtu-hes.
He brought us back In half a hour
A. score of women's switches.