THE SUNDAY OREGOXIAX, PORTLAND. JUNE 7, 1908.
MHNGGO
EXPERIENCED OF PONY EXPRESS RIDERS WHO
MADE IT IN EIGHT DAS FROM UdOE TO SAtf FRWCI5C0
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WA. CATES, better known In the
days of the Pony Express as
"Bill" Cates, is living In Denver,
and Is one of the few survivors of the
most remarkable band of couriers the
world has ever known. Many persons
claim to havebeen Pony Express riders,
but, aeide from Cates and "Pony Bob"
Haslam, It is doubtful if there are half a
dozen men who can prove that they were
couriers In the days before the telegraph
had penetrated the West.
Mr. Cates, who had. the honor of being
the first rider to carry Lincoln's inaugural
message out of St. Joe. Is still a strong
and active man, and only five or six years
ago gave an exhibition Pony Express ride
at a Wild West show given by Denver
citizens. Among his most prized posses
sions is the big ' Pony Express saddle
which saw such hard service in the days
when men and horses acted as substitutes
for the telegraph.
Mr. Cates' saddle is what is known as
the old ; California "tree" a model that
lias since given place to a lighter form.
It weighs nearly 60 pounds, and the old
saddle-maker who turned it out is still
alive in Sacramento, Cal. The saddle
makers of those days put heart and soul
Into the work, and each saddle was a
work of art when It was completed. Mr.
Cates' Pony Express saddle a splendid
example of the art of the old California
saddle-makers. Only the finest of wood,
rawhide and metal enter into its con
struction. It is covered with a brond
slieot of stamped leather, called the
mucliias, on the sides of which are fast
ened the pouches, or heavy leather boxes
tii.it contained the Pony Express dis
patches. Naturally the dispatches were
written on the thinnest of tissue paper, as
the Pofij- Express riders could not burden
themselves with any extra weight. The
boxes were kept locked between stations.
At the relay stations the rider would
simply slip his saddle off his tired horse
and throw it onto a fresh mount that
would be held in readiness.
"J was a young fellow, craving excite
ment, and when I had a chance to ride
Tony Express I leaped at It," said Mr.
Cates recently, with a reminiscent glance
at his prized saddle, "I had the flr ride
oft:
of 60 miles out of St. Joe. It wasn't what
you would call a settled country at that
time, but it was not as wild as the runs
of some of the other riders like 'Pony
Bob' Haslam and Jay Kelley, who had
more exciting adventures than fell to my
lot. Still, there was enough to keep a
man interested all the time, for there
were plenty of Indians riding about that
part of the country, and they would think
K good sport to get the scalp of a Pony
Express rider.
"I carried Buchanan's last message to
Congress In December, 1860. That mes
sage went through in eight days. Then,
in March, 1861, the superintendent said,
as he handed me a bunch of messages:
My son, you've got President Lincoln's
Inaugural message there look out that it
goes through all right.
" 'If it don't go through it won't be my
fault,' I told him, and jumped in the sad
dle and was off. I guess I made my best
time on that day. It was cloudy and
windy, but the ground was frozen and I
sent my horses through at a fast clip. I
rode four horses altogether changing
mounts three times, at intervals of 15
miles. I made the changes quickly at the
relay stations, and when' I reached the
end of my run and turned the message
jover to the next rider, I knew I had 'held
up my end." That message went through
in 7 days, 17 hours, and 17 minutes from
St. Joe to California, so there couldn't
hrebcen any loafing by any of the rid
ers along the whole line."
On one occasion' Mr. Cates was chased
by a band of 200 or more A ra pa hoes and
Klowas, "who roamed the Kansas plains
and kept settlers 'and express riders and
stage drivers ln a ferment until late in
the "60s. The young Pony Express rider
was on a branch line from Leavenworth
City to Fort Riley. The Indians sighted
him several miles from Fort Riley, and
It was a pretty race, the savages being
able to gain little on the intrepid saddle
man who was getting top speed out of
hts wiry broncho. It was customary for
the soldiers at the fort to keep a lookout
for the Pony Express rider about the
time he was due,, and to this fact Mr.
Cates doubtless owes his life. It wag seen
that the Pony Express rider was in
trouble; and a detachment of cavalry was
sent out to meet him. The approach of
the Boldlers frightened away the Indians,
and the Pony Express rider and his pre
cious messages were saved.
The Pony Express was only in existence
about two years. With the completion of
-
the first telegraph line to California the
occupation of the brave riders was gone.
The Terrors of One-Night Stands
Drag of Thirty-Two Weeks.
OBODY knows the utter misery, the
casual joys, the exactions and un
relenting hard work of playing one-
night towns except those who have been
chained to a route made up of days on
railroads and nights In strange habita
tions, a route given to players for a sea
son of 30 or more weeks without even a
respite of a Sunday.
This cunningly devised year of misadven
tures and theatrical calamities has sent
a caravan of gypsy ing celebrities, out. into
the towns not on the map. the villages or
note, the places reached by a tram or a
trolley and the big, deep, kind woods
where the railroads carry no trunks.
Large companies are the only ones ex
empt and the genial transportation au
thorities have1 carefully planned enough
interstate legislation to scare the brav
est plungers on railroad tickets into
countincAnoses twice before shipping a
2 -year-old musical comedy out to grass
with Its original phalanx of beauties,
comedians and choral attachments. But
the stars, especially the woman stars with
small companies, , go forth and find.
Among the unexpected things they find
is a kind of desultory . amusement for
themselves out of the despair settled
about, a tramp over uncivilized territory
with even modern convenience an undis
covered novelty, with trundle beds and
kerosene, with mosquito netting screens
and lead spoons, with cold coffee and bad
grammar and still with It all a sort of
courageous pleasure of the mlsery-likes-company
variety.
Sometimes the star makes the whole
Journey a picnic and never shows the
white feather from September to June.
Lillian Russell, for the first time In her'
glittering life, has this year been chased
out into the tall timbers to carry on a
kind of brilliant and smiling brigandage
by which the beautiful Lillian is to loot
the whole South and West of its hoarded
wealth and make it feel in her debt after
she Is through. She rises at 5 or 4 if
necessary, ships- aboard with the wholo
company, is notafrald to take her veil
off or use her sweetest voice before sun
rise and sets everybody such a canny
example that the health average of the
"Wildfire" troupe Is recorded as unpre
cedented. If she has been too cold she
bustles around and circulates enough to
warm up: if she Is too warm she sits idly
and starts a breezy conversation and
lolls and so does everybody else. She has
proved an ideal one-night towner and all
the railroad authorities want to divide
stocks with her. for they are used to the
stellar kick. Once this Winter Russell
discovered that her next town was sure
of a doubtful $500, and a certain; 50-mile
ride between midnight and dawn -with no
sleepers or chair cars. The town was
near St. Louis and Nordica was singing
Books Added to Library
BIOGRAPHY.
Charles the Bold. Charles the Bold, last
Ihike of Burgrundy; by Ruth Putnam. 1908.
Margaret of Austria. The hiuti and puis
sant princess Marguerite of Austria, prince
dowager of Ppain. regent of The- Netherlands;
by Christopher Hare. 1WT.
Shorter. Immortal memories. 1007.
BOOKS IN FOREIGN" LAXOUASBa.
Bebarbes. La laprende de l'algle.
Keller. Waldwfmer; roman aus , den
chlesischen barsen.
Krause. Elne gefangene aeele.
DESCRIPTION AND TRAVEL.
Dubois. Hindu mannera, customs and cere
monies; tr. by H. K. Beauchamp. Ed. 3. 1906.
Herbert. Two Dianas In Somallland; the
record of a shooting trip. T190S.
Masefleld. On the Spanish main: or. some
Kngllah forays on the Lsthmus of Darlen.
' FICTION.
Carpenter. Captain Courtesy.
Kinross. Dave nan t.
Munn. Boyhood days on the farm.
Streekfuss. The lonely house; tr. by Mrac
A. L. Wlster.
LITER ATT rRF,
Armes. ed. Old English ballads and folk
songs. 1907.
Page., ed. British poets of the nineteenth
century. 1904.
and Mr. Cates, with the other adventur
ous souls that took up the dangerous call
Inn, drifted Into more peaceful pursuits.
"Pony Bob" Haslam. now of Chicago,
rode one of the most dangerous routes on
the Pony Bxpress line, and probably un
derwent more narrow escapes than any
rider In the service. Bob carried dis
patches through a hostile country after
the outbreak of the Pal-Ute war In Ne
vada. On one of his most eventful rides,
at the outbreak of that war, he rode from"
Virginia City to Bucklands, 75 miles, on
one horse.
EScpress stock having been seized by
Indiana. At Bucklands, the rider
who was to relieve Bob was
afraid to- venture out, and Haslam went
on 65 miles to Smith's Creek, through a
lonely and Indian-Infested country. Here
he was relieved by Jay Kelley, one of the
gamest men that ever threw a. leg over a.
Pony Express saddle. When Bob returned
he found that the keeper at Cold Springs
had been killed and all the horses taken.
He started on, after watering his tired
horse, and managed to reach Sand
Springs. Here he advised the keeper
to accompany him which advice saved
the keeper's life, as the next day the sta
tion was attacked. Bob went on and
found the Sink of the Carson besieged by
50 Indians. He wormed his way through
the besiegers at night and went on to
Bucklands, and thence across the Sierra
"Nevadas at Friday's Station. In all he
had traveled 380 miles within" a few hours
of schedule time, and was surrounded by
perils on every hand.
After the pony express across the con
tinent was discontinued Bob was em
ployed by the Wells-Fargo people as an
express rider between Virginia City and
Friday's Station. Then he was trans
ferred to Idaho, where he witnessed the
outbreak of the Modoc war. On one of
his rides he passed the bodies of 90
Chinamen who had been killed by In
dians. This was Bob's last experience as
a pony express rider. His successor, Sye
McAulas, was killed by Indians on his
first trip.
The pony express riders received from
$100 to $125 per month small pay for the
constant risks they were compelled to
face. They were all young, abstemious
men, as Colonel Alexander Majors, who
organized this great service, had an
Ironclad temperance clause In all his con
tracts. To maintain the pony express
service Colonel Majors hired SO riders,
and had to maintain 190 stations, and
more than 500 horses. The enterprise lost
money, but It showed that It was possi
ble to maintain an unbroken line of com
munication with California across the
continent, and this fact led Congress to
give aid In establishing the overland mall
route that succeeded the pony express.
Alex. Carlyle was the first pony ex
press rider to ride out . of 9t. Joe when
the line was established April 3, 1S60. He
was succeeded a few months later by Mr.
Cates. Johnny Fry, a famous frontier
character, was the second rider and J.'
H. Keetley was the third Keetley now
being a business man of Salt Lake. Fry
was killed by Indiana at Baxter Springs.
Jay Kelley died In Denver a few years
ago, and it Is believed that not over a
half dozen of the original pony express
riders are alive today a scanty remnant
of this brave company that made so
much history.
Denver, Colo., June 2.
Vagabondage for Theatrical Stars.
there. What did Russell do btit pay the
piper for deserting and charter a car to
take her whole company up to St. -Louis
to pass the day and hear Nordica. She
paid all their expense's and made good
the losses for her management and the
tlifater. But they do not all travel like
Russell.
Ethel Barrymore. looking about 16 in a
blue jumper and plain sailor about two
feet wide, leaned over and drove one of
her Irresistible glances of solemnity at
me and said before she smiled:
"I am Just In from Lima, Ohio; ever
been there?"
Jack Barrymore, who was gripping her
long elbow from a distance, said:
"Are you Inquiring or punning?"
Ethel grew limp and smiled, showing all
her dimples and some new ones the romp
ing comfort of Uma engagements for
months had put Into her wonderful 'face.
She has even taken a little round and
girlish look into that face with the good
times she has found between jumps.
As I went Into the quiet house waiting
for "Paid in Full" the other evening a
wan, slim little girlish creature reached
a trembling hand out to me and feverish
ly clutched me. Her smile had some
thing impelling and tragic in its white
ness. I did not know her until she said
saucily: .
"Good gracious! you look as you did the
night you wore my clothes home in the
snowstorm and this is May!"
It was Blanche Walsh and she was rat
tling her pretty bones through Chicago en
route to a village with a theater up two
flights of stairs. She had been pulled and
hauled and pitched about in a perfect
frenzy of one-night routemaking and
Blanche is not the sort of star to take a
ruddy view of that kind of treatment.
Money does not speak to her after 12 M.
She has grown thin to emaciation. Her
luscious, color and crimson lips are whit
ened as if with frost and she is Just a
tired, worn, nervous little person who has
a wonderful look of supernatural youth
upon her miniature face and a tremor of
breakdown in her luscious voice.
Blanche really at her best Is a buxom,
radiant creature with a touch of Greek
magnificence which she inherits from an
Athenian mother in her Irish brawn. But
now she Is not Hire herself, but the wraith
the one-night town drudgery and irksome
persistence of vagabondage has made of
her.
"I am gefing to do 'Resurrection' In
Kalamazoo. After they resurrect I am
going home, home, home! Boston! Home!
Is there such a place? With a bedroom
wJiich does not smell of apples and a dining-room
which is not redolent of sand
wiches and ginger ale! Clean curtains and
windows which will open without an ax,
a surcease of the rumble of the flight
train and ghostly whistles, clanging bells
and bumpety bumps. Maybe I won't stay
at home when I get there!" Amy Leslie
In Chicago News.
' FINE ARTS.
Hasluck. ed. Pianos, their 'construction,
tuning and repair. 1905.
Pemberton Rosee: their history, develop
ment and cultivation. 1908.
Robinson. The garden beautiful. 1906.
HISTORY.
Pollard. Factors In modern hlstoo 1907.
SCIENCE.
Hobbs. Earthquakes. 1007.
SOCIOLOG Y.
Day. A history of commerce. 19ir7.
Gilbert. Trade currency . in early Oregon.
1907.
Mallork. A critical examination of social
ism. 1907.
Richmond. The good neighbor in the mod
ern city. 1908.
USEFUL ARTS.
Hasluck, ed. Cassell's carpentry and Join
ery. 1907.
Henderson. Sign painter. 1906,
Laughltn. ed. The complete dressmaker,
with simple directions for boms millinery.
1907. a
Maginnls. How to measure up woodwork
for buildings. 1903.
Meyer. The British state telegraphs. 1907.
Turneaore A Maurer. Principles of rein
forced concrete construction. 19oS.
. t :
fj!iU0
NAI<
mtefVieicj
hu nsece ihc
Countess
JJIECE OF THE -ALTTHaE?'
THE recent reports in Earopean
newspapers from Xew York that
the late anarchistic outbreaks in
America had been laid at the door of my
uncle. Count Leo Tolstoi, suggested the
thought that he would be willing to make
some statement of his position In regard
to the anarchistic and socialistic propa
ganda. Accordingly I wrote asking for
an appointment for an interview, a for
mality he requires even from his jour
nalistic relatives.
His daughter Countess Vera, replied by
letter: "In spite of some ill health
father will be glad to welcome you at any
time and have a long talk on the sub
ject, which interests him greatly." Ac
cordingly I made ' preparations for a
Journey to his estate, Jasnaja Poljana.
1 reached the home of my uncle very
early on a cold March morning. The sun
was just rising .behind the trees which
glittered with heavy frost. All at the
estate seemed still sleeping except two
;reat wolf hounds which met us with
loud barking. " I 'drove into the yard
with much embarrassment at disturb
ing the house so early, especially as it
was Sunday, when what was my aston
ishment to And my uncle up and, de
spite his 70 years, attacking a great
knotted piece of cordwood with vigorous
blows of an ajc.
On seeing us he stopped, shook hands
cordially with both myself and my coach
man and said to me half Jokingly:
"You have come at just the right mo
ment to help me. I have been trj-ing for
half an hour to split this wood. You are
younger and stronger than I so take the
ax and help me out. The room is very
cold and 1 would not invite you In until
there was a fire. I know you will enjoy
the work."
He smiled and handed me the ax and
I had to obey. I went to work and.
having more success than he, he was
so8n carrying an armful of fagots into
the house. The servants were all still
sleeping so, rather than disturb thom he
built the tire himself and soon, with my
assistance, the samovar was steaming
and we began our interview over grate
ful cups of steaming tea.
"I have read," said the Count, "that
some of the American newspapers have
blamed me for Inciting the anarchists
to the recent violent outbreaks over
there. Such assertions are exactly what
one would expect from the- American
press.
His eyes flashed as he warmed to a
denunciation of the press.
"The Russian newspapers write of me
as a fool and a reactionary, the French
papers call me a religious fanatic and
new the American press seems to be ac
cusing me of promoting anarchy. I am
accustomed to lying attacks from the
newspapers but it is getting beyond a
joke.
"The trouble with the modern news
paper is that it cares little for the
truth and a great deal for the profits.
It is either a money-making machine
or a political propagandist organ. It
has no Ideals. Its praise is for those
who buy it ir curry political favor
and its attacks for tho6e who are in
dependent. It is because I have stood
out uncompromisingly for the truth
that I have been the most bitterly at
tacked of contemporary writers. The
novelist who glorifies the life' and
deeds of the rich, of kings and all
the 'upper curst of society is called by
them a great man and Idolized in the
newspapers owned and written Dy
their hirelings and friends. See how
all the drawing-room writers, and nov
elists have their 'ideas.' which are
really worth nothing, boomed in the
contemporary press. So why should I
pay any attention to what the news
papers write for or againsf me and my
ideas? They are- inconsequential.
"Today the great question In th
minds of upper society is anarchism.
When I say that all the enormous
wealth is accumulated in a criminal
way and call the people whom the rich
are abusing and robbing to protest and
call them anarchists, they in their turn
call me an anarchist,
"It is odd that there is so much ex
citement when a crazy man resorts to
violence and assaults somebody, but
that when Ihe autocrat millionaires
and their trusts evade the law, kill
thousands and cause hundreds of thou
sands to suffer, there is "no protest and
no excitement. I doubt If there is
either in America or in this country a
more dangerous anarchist than ouf
Czar or an American Rockefeller. Mor
gan or Carnegie. Society says that I
am a fool because I oppose the modern
tendencies in art expression. But look
to whom belongs modern art expression!
Practically to the possessors of predatory
wealth to whom it is merely a stimulant
or pastime, while he has nothing for the
poor.
"I cannot pass over the retrogression
of morality and conscience under the bad
Influence of a false civilization based on
money and materialism. All the rulers
and plutocrats of Europe and America
claim to be the followers of "Christ and
worshipers of a God in beaven, but1 that
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Pfc- aSS run A
coujsriirBs.
TOIuTDI THE jSJTnOf
can be nothing but
pray with their lips,
with their hands,
those claiming to be-
a lie. While they
they prey and kill
Take any one of
Christians" or "re-
liglous" men and bring the Christ really
to them and what will happen? You reed
not bo surprised to see that In a few
kdays they will call him an anarchist and
again cry "Crucify him." It is simply
disgusting how hypocritical are most men
and women who are called Christians, ed
ucated people of the leading classes. It
is not right that modern education does
not educate the heart and morality of a
man, training him only to make money
and enslave his neighbors."
The Count's talk had made him very
excited and he began to walk up and
down the room. His dog followed his
every step and brought back his lost
sense of humor. The servants and the
rest of the family had awakened in the
meantime. His daughter, Vera, Joined
us in our conversation.
"Is it true that a woman in New York
City Is used to exhibit the wealth of her
husband or father?" asked the Countess.
"I have heard that an American society
woman of Newport or some other fash
ionable resort spends $20,000 a year for
her dresses. The Grand Duchess Eliza
beth, the sister of the Czarina, told me
once In Moscow that she never had been
as elaborately dressed as any shop-girl
In New York.
"Much more amusing than this spend
ing of big sums for dresses and dia
monds by these degenerated daughters
of American multi-millionaires Is their
mania arlstocratia or snobbery," re
marked Count Tolstoi. "I have been
told that the daughters of successful
American money-makers often delib
erately sell themselves to' European
Princes. Counts and other real or pre
tending title-bearers. I remember an
amusing conversation with our Grand
Count Alexis, who once visited Ameri
ca, in which he told how the wealthy
society people ran after him as a won
der, merely to get the opportunity to
touch his clothing or shake his hand.
It Is ridiculous even in Europe to see
the people kneeling and bowing before
persons of title, but we have an ex
cuse in our old aristocratic customs
and traditions. I cannot understand
it in an American who is born to
democratic ideals."
Our conversation turned to litera
ture and topics of the day. My uncle
criticised severely Shakespeare and his
habit of stealing the ideas for his
dramas. More severe still was he on
Maxim Gorki and his "childish Social
ism." which the Count despised ut
terly. In his opinion there woild soon,
begin a fierce fight between the capital
ist class and the laboring class in
America.
"There is only one cure for present
conditions," said the great writer,
"and that Is promulgation of a religion
of humanitarianlsm and brotherhood
and a change to the simple life of the
country. A passive resistance of every
kind of force and violence Is the best
way to wage a moral war that will
bring a true and lasting victory.
"As to my opinion of anarchism, and
my connection with its propaganda,
I would ask, who are the anarchists?
Christ was not a hypocrite, as are the
people who say they are His followers.
Christ was the 'teacher of individual
ism and brothe -hood. So am I. ' If
that is called anarchism, then I am an
anarchist. i
"I have alwajs been opposed to
every kind of violence and bloodshed.
I teach that any government which en
forces the law by force of arms is an
archistic and ought to be opposed by
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--n iiimnTfiiirl tsirii-inmirrlit
COVKTT .LEOTQIirrOI. x
the people. The more militaristic, is
a country, the more it develops anarch
ism and violence. There is also an -Ather
fact to be taken Into considera
tion, and that Is, the greater the gulf
between the rich and the poor the
greater tendency there is to terror and
anarchy.
"A disgrace to any civilized country
is capital punishment, and no nation
should dare to call itself civilized
which has to maintain order by kill
ing people. No truly Christian or
truly civilized country uses violence
law. and when violence is legal in
any land I can only call that an an
archistic land. So I am not preaching
anarchy, but fighting against It.
"I can not be held responsible when
men and women assemble In any part
of the world, organize a terroristic
society and then call it a League of
Tolstoism. My teaching opposes wholly
any such organization.
"As far as I have been able to un
derstand, there are three' distinct
types of anarchists, and their differ
ences are significant. The first type
s the philosophic anarcnist, nae
Prince Kuropatkin and Richard Wag
ner. I should say that even President
Roosevelt Is in theory, to a consider
able extent, a philosophic anarchist,
especially In respect to his strongly
individualistic ideas. This kind of an
archist Is. of course, harmless to so
ciety so far at least as violence is con
cerned. (
"The second type of anarchist Is the
acrltating or demagopic kind. These are
like "bosses" of political organizations,
dangerous and undesirable. They them
selves do not use violence, but they can
impel their weak minded tools to do any
thing. A demagogic anarchist does not
know the philosophic side and simply
seeks an outlook for his own vanity or
egoism. This Is also largely true of the
socialistic leaders. Some of these ought
to be switched off Immediately to other
avenues of activity or they will do a great
deal of liarm.
"The third type of anarchist is the ter
roristic fellow who assaults or kills any
one whom he thinks to be responMlble for
some social or his own personal troubles.
In the majority of cases these people are
entirely ilrrational and mentally unbal
anced. Society ought to keep them either
in a special moral school away from city
life or in an asylum until they rc cured.
In the majority of cases this class of ter
roristic anarchists Is the tool of the .dem
agogic agitators.
"Socialism is, of course, an entirely dif-;
ferent doctrine from anarchism, but I
think it Is much more of a menace to
humanity. Socialism is materialistic and
is based entirely on egoistic theories of
life. The socialists are really demand
ing the imperialism and bureaucracy
which they pretend to fight. A socialist Is
the subject of his leader and that he
does not understand. He is wrong who
says that Christ was in his ideas a social
ist. He was a philosophic anarchist like
Buddah, Confucius, Moses and other
great teachers of brotherhood and truth
but never a socialist,"
We were Interrupted by the call to
breakfast. At table the Count said that
he had finished his discussion and sug
gested that we turn the lively topics.
The old novelist ate with great appe
tite and said that eating was a great
pleasure to him since he became a vege
tarian and tetotaler. He drank butter
milk, ate black bread, eggs, potcheese
and honey. He said that for writers but
termilk and honey were the most natural
and effective stimulants and nourishment
and that such food gave him much
strength for writing. Each member of
the family had his own sort of meal but
no meat or alcoholic drinks were on the
table, curing the meal the Count told
with a very humorous touch of what he
had imagined the faces of Thomas Ec'
son and John Blgelow to be like from
their work and how he was grievously
disappointed to find them both entirely
different from anything he had Imagined,
after he had received their photographs.
He considers those two men the greatest
citizens of the United States.
After spending the entire day with (he
great author and his family, I left in
the evening. As we drove, out In the sled
from the yard the Count accompanied
us to the gates with his big wolf hounds.
There, giving us his hand warmly, he
said good-by and with a smile full of
humor, added:
"Remember my example and drink al
ways buttermilk and honey, for they keep
you pretty and young."
A Dyspeptic Ode.
Nixon Waterman In Success Magazine
Let poets rave, as poets mill.
About the heart's control.
And in their lofty lyrics still
Its vital worth extol; ,
I, who must walk In humble ways
And modest muses woo,
I write this simple song to praise
The liver good and true.
Fray tell me what are hearts to men
What's anything, alack!
To us poor bilious creatures wheo
The liver's out of whack?
'While sentiment. 1 gram it. Is
Quite pruper in ite place,
Yet when we get right down to "biz,"
The liver sets the pace.
So let's1 not to the dreamy bards'
Soft caroling succumb.
For he who clearest truth regards
Will keep his liver plumb;
He knows full well a heart may bless
A mortal. In a way,
But oh! it's quite "ri. ti.," unless
HU liver's ail "O. K."
And hers and now I make my plaint
To all the cooks; Beware
On what you feed us. for a saint
On bile-distressing (fare
Must soon become a demon! Yes,
You guide w. day by day.
For piousness and biliousness
Go different paths, they say. "