1HE UKEUU.MAX, PORTLAND, OCTOBER 11, 1908. 11
. . . 1
"In repaying kindness, we ought to
imitate fertile lands, which give back
much more than theyjreceive."
CICERO.
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SCENE TKCSvr 3ffiREX5ITH'-N'IHC3ri50rT5J
mam w Willi WWVNVAfK-,
Ih fmiMrf at tminT. by Mal4l Wsxnall.
lllunratrd. tl.Ou. Kunk & WgnlU Co..
New York City.
Breathen again the spirit of Dumas or
Bdward Bulwer Lytton In this stirring
historical novel of old France, the France
of the ISth century, when Louis XV was
Kins.
An immense canvas Is spread, and
sometimes the figures are warlike and at
ethers are creatures of statecraft, idle
ness and love. But. above all, towers the
RlfCnntic Intellect of Madame do Pompa
dour. Indeed. "The Palace of Danser"
seems to be the only high-class histor
ical novel In which this famous woman
Is the central motif. The story is so well
told ami dramatically strong that it will
hold its own in the many literary stars
of a busy book season.
Next to Madame de Tompadour. one
likes Destine, the convent-bred maid, and
her lover, the Count de Vrle. an aris
tocrat who held the court position of
'Introducteur dos Ambassadeurs." Wit
and action are much in evidence, also
ot-auty of descriptive power. For in
stance: Today Madame l'ompadour was sownea
in urecn velvet. Her Jnunty three-cornered
ri.iinn hat. edk-ed wilh while marabou
feathers, aurmounted a wonderful, powderaa
roldure. Hrr fce and figure wera of a
beauty m.ire ij.irltuello than aenauoua, and
her biue eyos. although not large, were no
ticeably expriin-ilve. She coi.veyed an Im
pr9lnn f crlni- vitality, every movement
and g'ani-e radiating animation. .
1 he Pompadour apoke with effective
seriousness, she was sincere In a certain
.-n but above ail. she was drsmatu-:
any thrilling speech that came to her lips
eon prompted In her heart the requisite
emotion.
In the superb dlnlng-hall a surprise was
In waiting. The four walls were covered
with a solid ma's of roses myriads of
them. In every shad and the air was
heay with a soft perfume. Such a rose
bower In Winter was a source of the great
est amuxemenl,
The King reached out his hand to pluck
one of the flowers, and as he touched it
Madame Pompadour exclaimed:
"Heboid! his Majesty's lightest touch has
made the flower Imperishable!"
And this was apparently true, for that
flower and every other was of Severea pores
lain : each one a work of art.
As the stupendous prodigality of tha dis
play was comprehended the enormity of
the achievement, ti-r It wae a new accom
plishment In ceramics comments of es
rltcd wonder and admiration arose from
al sides. The customary renerve of court
functlc ns broke away. Astonishment plowed
through the froien crust of eclquett. Ani
mation supereseded ennui.
The next morning before hie Majesty was
out of bed he received the astounding news
that the majority of the raembere In the
eleht chambers of Parllameat had sent la
lerters of reeiKnatlon.
l.outa the Fifteenth sat up In bed and
eajd "Le Diablo'" As the flrt gentleman
of the roval bedchamber handed to his
Majesty his royal sntru he awors again In
more elaborate terms. A the master of
the wardicl handed to the gentleman In
watting who. in turn, handed to the chief
valet in attendance the royal boots. Louis
xewed by all the saints that every lngrata
fc-il of the Parliament should be exiled,
when the boms were on. he stamped them
Into place with another oath.
erhe roval palae! yon don't meaa to
sav you weie there?"
Peatlne nodded lightly, enjoying tha ef
fect "Po tell us about It! Is It all gold and
marble, and crystal mirrors and polished
floor" .
"Yes." she replied, as one unimpressed
with the grandeur. "But. do you know. It
ii wonderfully cold! Most of the windows
r'V-o:d!" they exclaimed; "think of a
palace being cold!"
I urr"" that le why kings and queens
Iwiii wear ermine!" put In Fanchon
" iMd you see the King?" they Inquired.
w-
And the Queen?"
"Yes "
"Was she beautiful?"
Ie.t!ne smiled amusedly.
'I don't know; wlien I saw her she was
In tears."
"v'rving! 1 never supposed queens cried!"
Fanchon was quite thoughtful for a mj
meut. but the othere pressed their queries.
"IMd you see any more of the royal fam
ily: a Pri"c.s. perhaps, or a l'rluce?"
"1 saw trie I'aupntn."
'The rvaupMn! moo rteu. think of that!
she saw the Dauphin, too! VYwa he the least
bit like a fairy prince?"
-A fairy prince!" Destine answered this
with enthusiasm. "Yes. he was exactly
Mke a fairy prince. I -could almost believe
the fairtee had sent Mm!"
"Tell us more about htm." tsey persist
ed "He must be magnllicent. la he tall
and stately ?"
So. not tall; he ta about tha else of eur
A'''lel! you don't meaa to say he la fat ?"
Destine frankly confessed that ke was. a
"'a' fat prtnea!- Fanchoa groaned.
The I.lt-de-Justlce w-aa all that pomp and
gold could make It. Uank. station, lineage.
.tate were measured and marked with Hie
accuracy of notches on a yard-stick every
tit'e In Hi l-lace. every shade of distinction
manifest, from the highest to the lowest.
Otker XuacUoaariea la voluminous
ill. f
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ITr tT TVTT 'T 1 HI','
gowns of black velvet, gold-trimmed, were
also In line a hundred strong while satin,
damack and laffet served to dlKnify a stoop
shouldered, near-sighted advocate of the
law.
Kan red higher up on a dais approaching
the throne was mora color, more gold,
jewels, blue blood. . . . But all this
magnlllcence paled before the splendour of
royalty.
Louis, announced by his trumpeters, es
corted by his brilliant body-guard, his train
bearers, his ministers, entered by the spe
cial portal of the King.
"Vive le Roll" shouted the populace with
out and the multitude within.
Amid cries of "Long live the Xing!'
blaring bugles and waving orltlammea, Ixuls
mounted his canopied throne. He carried
himself with high head, an Ignoring eye. a
commarmng step, l nere. aDove an omcm
his ermine robe draped about lilm. Louis
stood before his Parliament, exalted, soli-
tarv. unanDroachable.
And this was all as it should be when a
king holds a Llt-de-Justice; asserts nis di
vine right to make a proclamation that
none of his hearers approve of, but every
one must obey. No dissenting voice may
bo raised when the sovereign of France,
from his throne In a Lit-de-Justlce reads
forth his ultimatum and closes with ths
august words:
"Such are my orders. I. the King, hava
spoken.
The Lsevll. By Ferene Molnar. and adapted
by Oliver Henora. Mitcneu a.enneriey,
New York City.
As most of the dramatic world admits,
a bis;, sensational play of the current sea
son in stagcland la "The Devil," as lasii
loned by that talented Hungarian, Herr
Molnar.
Unforunately, there being; no copyright
regulations between this country mud
Hungary. Molnar has not profited to an
appreciable degree financially from his
cleverness as a dramatist. In this Instance
Consequently, It has been a great oppor
tunity for New York pirates, an oppor
tunity of which they have been swift to
avail themselves, to rake in a golden
shower. Portland has had the distinction
of witnessing the arrival and residence
In Its midst of His Satanic Majesty as
conceived by Molnar and thoughtful peo
ple stamped the production as being a
rare, literary treat. But I am told by
those In a position to know that the play
was not witnessed by the crowds conn
dently predicted for this sardonic child of
genius." principally because the popular
mind cannot disassociate the aevii wuu
flaming-fire when he talks, a brimstone
atmosphere, a yawning pit for departure
and cloven hoofs.
Molnar draws the devil as a sneering,
well-dressed, experienced man of the
world, who principally carries out his foul
designs as an evil tempter, materially
aided by suggestion. The play, as a lit
erary production for I do not pretend to
be a dramatic critic Is "bold, sensuous,
wrthout being nauseous, nitty, and clever.
I think It la mainly a satire on marriage.
There Is no ruined Marguerite, no duel
to the death between Faust and Valentine,
but there Is an artist whom various wom
en love and who has the bad taste to love
a married woman. Olga Uofmann, wife of
a banker. The latter has commissioned
the artist. Karl Mahler, to paint Frail
Hofmann's picture, the same being laid m
Vienna. Olga destines Klsa, an unmar
ried heiress, to be Karl's srife, but he is
perverse, and there Is a alight affair of
the heart between him and Mimi. his
former model. What their relations may
have been, on can only conjecture.
The devil calls himself Dr. Miller, say
ing: "Call me anything you like. We
only call names when the party Is absent:
but call me Miller, or Brown, or Black.
Forgive me, madam, for opening
mv eyes when for" propriety's sake I
should at least have kept one eye shut."
He was supposed to have been found
asleep tn Karl's" atudlo. when Karl and
prau Uofmann were discreetly making
love.
It is not my Intention to present here the
entire plot of the play, but only to give
you an Idea of it literary value. These
extracts wll" help:
U.vll t'nder ordinary circumstances I
should now take my hat and leave: but
mv Infinite tact compels me to force my
presence upon yoa In this disagreeable sit
uation. Olga How dare yont (T Karl) This man
has the insolence to
Devil (very qolckly Tour husband has
been dead some time?
rr I'm not a widow.
Devil (very quickly) Oh. divorced?
Olga No.
Devil Well. If you think that I have, In
sulted you. I should say the proper person
to refer aae to would be your husband.
Full of temperament, full of temperament
and pretty, too. (Karl lights cigarette at
table.) Too bad she doesn't love ner hue"
band. (Karl, dropping cigarette, sits and
looks at the devil without speaking.) How
do I know? The way she turned to you
Just now when she fancied herself Insulted.
It didn't escape me. No, she doesn't love
her husband. He must be either a genius
f C5vi
or a very common man. Marriage with
them Is always unlucky. Believe me. com
mon men love so low that the wives are
afraid somebody will steal In through the
window which they forgot to lock. And
genius well! That lives on the top floor,
so many stairs, no elevator! Her Ideal la
the second floor. fKarl looks lmpatlently
at bis watch and goes toward the door of
the studio. The devil leans back blowing
the smoke from his cigarette Indifferently.)
This is the second time 1 have seen her
shoulders. t
Karl What do you mean?
Devil The first time I saw them was
In Paris (Start from Karl.) At the
Louvre. Only they were on the Aphrodite.
Am I right?
Karl -How should I know .
- Devil (lifting himself upright. "ynica!ly)
Which shoulders have you noi seen.
Karl (angry) I've seen the Aphrodite.
Devil Well, you may taae ray w.u. -have
seen them both. And. believe me.
since Alcamenes I have known only one
sculptor who could model such shoulders.
Karl Who's that ?
Devil Good living. Surh tender, sort
lines are only possible for a woman who
lives exquisitely well.
Olga (re-entering) What's the time?
Devil (looking up ov-r back of chair)
He'll be here in ten minutes.
Olga (angry) Who ?
Devil Your husband.
Olga Oh. so you weren't asleep after all
Devil Oh. yes 1 was. But "what's the
time" alwavs means the husband's coming
by ten minutes. If It wasn't for that ten
minutes there would be more divorced
women. (He goes and unlocks the door of
the halL) And leas locked doors.
Olgs. Will this never stop?
Devil Come. now. Let's be logical. Let
us look the situation In the face. Enter
your husband. Well, here I am: where Is
the picture? The picture? (i-hrugs his
shoulders. ) There is no picture. Karl basn t
even touched a brush. Your husband Is as
tonished; he tries to speak; the words stick
In his throat: he gasps. "Well, if you didn t
paint, why Is she dressing?" Imagine the
situation. Tou look at one another horribly
embarrassed: Karl stammers something, hut
that only makes It worse. Nothing has
happened, and yet the mischief la done.
What mischief? Appearances, appearances.
They're like f -paper, there's no getting
away from It. ,
Olga I don't know what you. who pro
fess to know everything, know about us.
but anyone who thinks Carl capable of one
base thought must b very low and con
temptible himself.
Devil It's not a base thought. It s a
great thought a thought that brings Joy
and warmth and light Into your wretched
lives: but joy has its price. And you must
pay It, you misers. The drunkard dies of
drink, but while he Is drunk angels in
heaven sing to him. The poet dies in the
ecstasy of his sweetest song. It Is a Cow
ard's bravery that turns away from the
wine, the song and the lips of woman. The
smallest candle-end shows you It Is worth
while to burn up for the sake of a little
warmth, a little light. The only end of life
Is to burn, to burn yourself up; you must
flame and blase like a torch and toss the
lire about you. I know! Your moralists
tell you to love one another. Don't be
lieve them. Your grubby little earth with
lis paltry million years is not ripe for such
love aj that. It can only breed monks,
madmen. Methodists Don'.t be a fool. Bo
a rascal, but be a pleasant rascal, and ihe
world Is-yours, look at me! I own the
earth. Here Is the key of life love your
self, enlv rourself. Dress yourself In the
softest garments, kiss the sweetest lips,
drink the wine of life. Don't try to be
sober. (Jet drunk drunk as drunk as pos
sible. (Bell rings sharply.)
Olga (rises. In a low volcej My bus
band !
The end of the last act is an ingenious
bit of pleasantry. The devil weaves a
spell over Olga and makes her write a
love-crazy letter to Karl. Written against
her will, this letter Is afterward presum
ably handed by the devil to Karl, in the
woman's presence. Karl throws the letter
Into a blazing fireplace, and the devil de
parts, he says, to catch a train.
Olga Karl, I would have given one year
of my life if you had not hurned that letter
Karl Why. you told me why, what did
it contain?
Olga You know It all. What I told you
a few moments ago. And now (goes to
Are) burned to ashes. My first love letter;
the trembling confenslon of my Infatuation
with you which I would love to have read
over and over again with you. I want back
that letter to drink In its passion. I don't
want to think! I want to be happy! Only
happy! If I had that letter back! Karl!
(They start to embrace. Devil enters, car
rying a traveling bag.)
Karl I thought you'd gone.
pevll I ask ten thousand pardons. So
careless of me. By some mistake I gave
you my coal bill Instead of your letter.
Karl and Olga go out arm In arm, and
read the passion-letter.
"There you are!" remarks the devil,
sneering.
The Blotting Book. By E. F. Benson. Price.
Si. Doubleday, Page & Co.. New York
City, and the J. K. Gill Company, Port
land What does the name of Benson recall?
A remarkable trl'o of clever brothers,
each one of whom has made an envied
reputation not only In England, but out
of it. The name of B. F. Benson reminds
one of the much-talked-of novel he wrote,
"Dodo," and also a lot of fanciful, airy
fiction.
In the present story. Mr. Benson's style
bears a decided resemblance to that of
Anthony Hope, but in plot the building
up of curious evidence freeing a young
man falsely charged with murder, rather
suggests Anna Katharine Green. "The
Blotting Book" is bold, bibulous and sen
sational, and utterly different from what
I Imagined Mr. Benson would write. It
Is an essentially English story. There are
the usual number of formal phrases, de
tails of dining, and references to brandy
and soda. Thus, about a lawyer:
Mills splashed himself 'out a liberal al
lowance of brandy Into his glass and mixed
.t with a somewhat more carefully meas
ured ration of soda. He was essentially a
sober man. but that was partially due to
the fact that his head was Impervious to
alcohol as teak la to water, and It was his
habit to Indulge In two. and these rather
tiff, brandies and sodas of an evening.
He found that they assisted and clarified
thought!
One finds so many similar references to
drinking habits in current, "smart" Eng
lish novel. This story opens with a din
ner party In which port wine Is men
tioned so seductively that thirst gets
busy.
The hero of the tale Is Morris Assheton,
aristocrat, who has an inherited fortune
tied up In trust funds of S2OO.O0O. Invested
for him by Taynton Mills, lawyers.
The latter have privately thrown away
most of the money In wildcat Invest
ments, but outwardly have pretended
that the money was tied up in Irreproach
able securities. .
Tou settle snugly In your chair and pre
pare to enjoy what at first sight appears
to be a placid story of placid, aristocratio
Hfe In England, when suddenly a blow Is
struck. Lawyer Mills is found murdered
by the side of a lonely road. He had
been threatened by Assheton, and on the
ground near where the dead man lay was
a stick or ,bludgeon bearing Assheton '
name. Assheton Is tried for his life, but
out of the gloom comes a remarkable en
try on a blotter which changea every
thing, and points the hand of guilt to
Lawyer Taynton.
A typical, latter-day Benson novel. Very
little love making or humor Just smart
story-telling.
Three of a Kind, by Professor Richard Bur
ton. Illustrated. Little, Brown Co.,
Boston.
Professor Burton, head of the depart
ment of English literature at the Uni
versity of Minnesota, is pleasantly re
membered in this city for the literary
treat he recently gave here in a book talk
and reading of Booth Tarkington's novel.
"Monsieur Beauraire."
"Three of a Kind" Is an unusual story
for a college professor to write, because
It is neither dignified nor learned. It
possesses In a marked quality, a heart
Interest In which laughter and tears are
artistically mingled, and Is sure to add to
our author's already achieved literary
celebrity.
The "three" are: Ludovic Heffner. a
kind-hearted German violinist: Phil, a
waif of a newsboy picked from the gut
ter, and Dun. a cocker-spaniel. Long ago
Ludovic had reached these shores from
his native Germany. Intending to send for
and marry his Hilda when he got enough
money saved. But he wasn't successful
as a financier, and he lost track of his
sweethearL Then he rescues Phil, who
was fighting with a bully, gives the boy
a home, ard is overjoyed simple soul to
find out that Fhil la Hilda' son. Dun.
the dog. just drifts into the little family,
and becomes a hero by saving a little
girl from drowning.
A pleasant, restful word-picture is
drawn when the old German plays his
violin after the day's duties are over.
Phil and Dun both listen, and Dun howls
or whines in sympathy with the music
The bosk ought to Interest all young peo
ple. It is safe without being dull and is
clearly meant for the family circle.
Professor Burton's other books Include:
"Dumb In June." "Message In Melody."
"Literary Leaders of America." also a
life of Walt Whitman and "Rahab." a
poetic drama.
Williams of West Point. By Hugh S. John
son. Illustrated. Price. SI. BO. D. Apple
ton & Co.. New York City.
The old code of the cadet corps in the
"90s is the central idea of this brilliantly
told story of life at West Point, Amer
ica's military academy on the Hudson
River. The author is Lieutenant Hugh S
Johnson, of the United States Army, and
hs presents a novel that pulses with
health and temperament worth reading
to the end. and just the book to put
into the hands of an impressionable boy
beginning to learn the great ideals of
living. The hero is Cadet First Captain
Robert Williams, a great football general,
a boy who wouldn't fight even when he
was called a coward. The reason? Well,
it's a strange but perfectly satisfactory
one under the circumstances. Read and
find out about it. One of the charac
ters is an Oregon cadet. The best writ
ing in the book is a stirring description
of the Army versus Navy football game.
In which the hero, of course, helps the
Army to win by a great run down the
field with most of his opponents tagging
after him. And no silly calf-love mars
the tale.
Forward Paaa By Ralph Henry Barbour.
Illustrated. Price, $1.50. D. Appleton 4
Co., New York City.
College football Is -in the air Just now.
and appropriately enough comes along
this football story of boarding school
life, pulsing with clean, wholesome fun.
work and character formation. The hero
ts Daniel Moore Vinton, of Graystone, O.,
who goes to Tardley Hall School, Wls
slnlng. Conn. . He is 15 years old, weighs
138 pounds, and Just the sensible young
ster It does one's heart good to read
about. He makes his mistakes Just like
the average boy, and isn't a "Willie," by
any means.
Football looks at you all over the novel,
and there's plenty of diagram to Illus
trate the play. Vinton invents a double
-A noaa whlnti en U h PS his team tO
win. If the book reaches the dignity of
reprinting, piease alter nue Kuicitt.c
page 118: "The quarter dove for the ball
and William dove for the quarter." It
should be expressed in better English.
Otherwise, the story 1s ell right, and Is
sure to be popular because it strikes a
popular chord.
The Immortal Moment, by May Sinclair.
Illustrated. $1.50. Doubleday. Page
Co.. New York City..
Sam "Weller, that experienced married
man, said as a w-arning:
"Bevare of vidders!"
May Sinclair has written a darinK
novel of psychological interest and
plot. Her heroine is a Mrs. Kitty Tail
leur, who at first passes off as a wid
ow. However, she never was married,
but ought to have been. She is that
sardonic figure a woman with a past,
a Zaza, a Sappho. She says: "I don't
believe in spiritual love. When you're
gone on a man, all you want is to get
him and keep him to yourself."'
The scenes described are English, and
too many of the people in the novel
are people of leisure, who are Idle loaf
ers, and ought to serve a longr sentence
on the, rockpile. Then they ought to
be treated to a chloride of lime bath.
"The Immortal Moment" is a shock
er. It will have a large sale. Such
books Invariably do. Fortunately, Its
teaching Is moral, with a terrible end
liig. ; ..
The Blverman. By Stewart Kdward White.
Illustrated. The McCiure Company, New
York' City.
In a timber country like Oregon, this
well-told story of log-jams, river booms
and timber and then more timber is
certain to be a favorite. The novel,
opening In the early '70s, has the right
hearty ring to It, and its wholesome,
rugged people are worth reading about
Just the healthy story that working
Americans like. The hero, Orde, the
Riverman, and his wife, Carroll, have
one quaint expression:
Orde crept to Carroll, unheard. Gently
he clasped her from behind. Unsurprised,
she relinquished the harp-strings and sank
back against his breast with a happy, little
sigh.
"Kind of fun being married. Isn't lt
sweetheart?" he said, repeating their quaint
formula.
"Kind of," she replied, and raised her
face to his.
An Olympic Victor. By James B. Connolly.
Illustrated. Charles Scribner's Sons. Hew
York City.
A great story which from the stand
point of an athlete will live to be a
classic, and read again and again. The
telling of it is so marked with fire and
excitement that the reader with good,
red blood In his veins feels the same
tremendous emotion as if he personally
were running a race.
"An Olympic Victor" is a story show
ing how one Loues, a Greek youth,
won the Marathon race from Marathon
to Athens, aftd In return received a
bundle of laurel from the hands of the
Queen of Greece, and refused a present
of 60,000 francs payable in gold, becajise
he had just run for Greece.
The love-romance of Loues and Marie
is delicious, and the picture where, be
fore he starts on his famous run, they
take the holy sacrament together is a
fine bit of literary work.
The three books are attractively print
ed in colors and the pages are decorated.
The Toy Shop, by Margarita Spalding Gor
ing. Harper as Brothers. New York City.
A pathetic little story in which Presi
dent Abraham Lincoln is the central fig
ure, a story breathing such mingled ten
derness and patriotism that it ought to
be In every American home where there
are children. It describes the anxious pe
riod in Lincoln's life before he found
General Grant, "his" general, to end the
war and bring; peace
Lincoln happens to visit the toy-shop of
Joseph Sehotz, a veteran who had served
under Napoleon the Great, and whose
trust in that great soldier as a conqueror
had never faltered. From Scholtz's faith
In Napoleon, Lincoln found his faith
grow in Grant-
The tale only extends to 51 pages, and is
a gem of its kind.
The Washington Tear Book, and Catch
words of Patriotism, compiled by Wallace
Kiee: and Catchwords of Friendship. A.
C. McCiurg & Co.. Chicago, 111.
These are three gift books, suitable for
Christmas boxes In the approaching holi
day season. "The Washington Year
Book" has an entry for each day of the
year filled with one of George Washing
ton's quaint sayings.
"Catchwords of Patriotism" also has an
entry for each day in the year accompa
nied by a quotation on patriotism select
ed from the writings of the world's most
famous thinkers.
"Catchwords of Friendship" is the title
of a modest little book containing 200
sentiments in verse and prose, wisely se
lected. Boad Preservation and Dust Prevention) by
William Pieraon Judaon. Illustrated.
$1 fro. The Engineering News Publishing
Co., New York City.
Mr. Judson Is recognized as a consulting
engineer of authority, and hails from
Xew York City. In this book of 146 pages
Is presented a vast amount of observa
tion, technical and otherwise, concerning
the preservation Ol ounace ana preven
tion of dust on macadamized roads, the
latter evil being caused principally by the
evpr-extending use of the automobile.
These subjects are discussed from the
viewpoint of an expert. Road-dust, Its
control and prevention; moisture, oil-
emulsions, oils, coal-tar preparations, tar
spraying machines, tar-macadam, rock
asphalt macadam, and bitulithic pave
ment. A Happy Half-Century, by Agnes Repplier.
St.lii. Houghton, Mifflen & Co., Boston.
Mass.
Miss Repplier is recognized as a load
ing American essayist, and naturally
this little volume of her gentle liter
ary criticism and reminiscences will
arouse widespread interest. Her criti
cal sense is never obtrusive, and her
recital of the fads and fancies of our
grandparents has delightful flavor and
quite romantic interest. Some of her
chapters are headed: "When Lalla
Rookh Was Young." -The Literary
i-n.'v" "On th stones of Parnassus"
and "Our Accomplished Great-Grand- J
mother."
The Clrcnlar Staircase, by Mary Roberts
Rlnehart. Illustrated. The Bobbs-Mer-rllt
Co.. Indianapolis. Ind.
A real detective story, possessing all
the elements . of mystery skillfully
worked to a sensational finale, and
written by a woman. The clews are
carefully hidden until the right mo
ment, and how that old maid I mean
lady of single blessedness didn't lose
her senses but that's telling. Mrs.
Rlnehart is almost up to Conan Doyle.
She halls from Pittsburg. Pa., and in
private life is a surgeon's wife and the
mother of tnree children.
The Call of the City, by Charles Mulford
Robinson. $1.5. Paul Elder Co., 6an
Francisco.
Written in essay form and in smooth,
polished style, somewhat after the fash
Ion of Anthony Hope, but without the
latter's smart sarcasms. The country
has plenty of defenders. It is encour
aging for a city dweller to find such an
eloquent defense of life in the city. The
little book, beautifully printed, tells of
the city's human interest, fellowship,
comforts, opportunities, holidays, enter
tainments and lots of other rosy-hued,
wholesome attractions. A -onlc.
The New Boy. By Arthur Stanwood Pier.
Illustrated. Price, $1.50. Houghton. Mif
flin & Co.. BoHton, and the J. K. Gill
Company, Portland.
Undlsputably the cleanest and most
wholesome story of the schoolboy life
in America, that has been issued for a
long time. Louis Colllngswood Is such a
natural boy. Long life to him! I like "The
New Boy" nearly as much as I do "Tom
Brown." Besides, the story is Ameri
can. Boy and Bay In Canada. By Mary Wright
Plummer. Illustrated. Plrce, $1.73. Henry
Holt & Co., New York City.
This author, who is director of the
Pratt Institute Library School, Is now
accepted as a favorite writer for chil
dren, because her books can be depended
on fqr correctness of Information, in
struction, and entertainment. The pres
ent book is an excellent one. and not
only is it a record of Journeys through
Canada with a party of children, but it
is bound to be useful as a travel guide.
Sidney at College. Br Anna Chapln Ray.
Illustrated. Price. $1.50. Little. Brown &
Co., Boston.
Miss Sidney Stayre's life as a freshman
at Smith College, Massachusetts, is pic
tured with brightness and plenty of ac
tion. She and her college friends are
worth bringing to the attention of young
people.
The Revolt of Anne Kosie, by Helen R.
l"rtin. S1.S0. The Century Co.. New York
City.
Several preachers occupy a large share
of the canvas of this charmingly told
American story. Anne's "revolt" is the
best thing that she ever did. It's re
freshing to read about it.
JOSEPH M. QUENTIN.
LIBRARY AND WORKSHOP.
The picture on this book page is taken
from the novel. "The Little Brown Jug at
Kildare." recently reviewed in these col
umns. "The Witching Houn" the play by Au
gustus Thomas, which was one of the two
most talked about in New York last season,
is to be brought out In the form of a novel.
Robert Herrick's "Together" has been
barred from the 6halves of the public library
in a New England town. The sama library
authority has banished the works of George
Meredith.
Angelo Neumann's "Reminiscences of
Richard Wagner," in a translation by Edith
Llvermore, Is to be an early issue from the
press of the Holts who have contracted for
the American rights of the book from the
author's agent.
Mrs. Wesselhoeft. already widely known
for her various books for young people,
which Inculcate so strongly the principle
of kindness and consideration towards ani
mals, has another book of the same trend
In "Rover, the Farm Dog." The book will
be published In a few days.
Some extraordinary stanzas are noticed In
the Oxford Treasury of English literature.
Thus:
"She took me to her elfin grot.
And there she gaz'd and sighed deep;
And there I shut her wild, sad eyes
8o kiss'd to sleep."
These books were received through the
courtesy of the J. K. Gill Co.: "Weeping
'Cross " "Waldo French and Others.
"Catch Words of Patriotism." "The Wash
ington Year Book," "Catchwords of Friend
ship." "The Riverman," "Peter" and an
"Olympic Victor."
' The rumor, which was never confirmed,
that the late Paul L. Ford based the char
acter of his Peter Stirling on that of Grover
Cleveland, probably Is helping keep up in
terest In that remarkable American political
novel. "The Honorable Peter Stirling."
which is being reprinted for the fifty-second
time, and for which the demand Is constant
and steady 14 yeans after publication.
A new work of fiction by an anonymous
writer. "Travele of a Lady's Maid." by A.
B. The story Is that of a lady's maid who
accompanied a Countess and her daughter,
who came to New York with the Earl for
the marriage of the son of the family.
They cross the Continent, returning home
by way of Japan, India, across to Egypt.
Greece and Italy.
What happened to an American young
man traveling on the Continent, who re
sponded to an advertisement, "An Original
Gentleman Wanted," l the theme of a cap
tivating romance, entitled "An Original
Gentleman." from the pen of Anne Warner,
the creator of "Susan Clegg." "Aunt Mary,
eto It so happens that Anne Warner Is at
present visiting HUdesheim. Germany,
where the scenes of ber new story are laid.
In response to a cable message from the
Robert Appleton Comrany. publishers of
the Catholic Encyclopedia, making inquiry
In Rome as to the truth of the recent re
ports in several newspapers that an article
or articles In the Encyclopedia had been
condemned by the Roman authorities. Most
Reverend John M. Farley. Archbishop of
New York, under a recent date sent a cable
message from Rome stating that the story
referred to Is Incorrect.
Justus Miles Forman Is among the au
thors returning from abroad who have come
home In good time to begin the New York
literary season. Mr. Forman, who was a
passenger on the Cedrlc, has been abroad
since Mav, chiefly In England and In
France, in regions where he is an accus
tomed visitor and guest. One of the first
duties Mr. Forman did upon arrival was
to consult his publishers, the Harpers, upon
the manuscript of a new book.
e
Maybe there's something in this trial mar
riage business, says a writer In Young's
Magazine. For purgatory is better than
the lower place. Look at the Blanks, for
Instance. At the height of their usual quar
rel the other day Mrs Blank choked back
a sob and said, reproachfully:
I was reading one of your old letters
todav. James, and you eald In it that you
would rather live In endless torment with
me than tn bliss by yourself."
"Well I got my wish," Blank growled.
. , .
Hamlin Garland was recently a visitor In
New York, having come all the way from
Wisconsin on a mission which included a
visit to his publishers, the Harpers, on the
matter of his new book. It Is announced
that this book, to appear this month, will
probe a bit Into the ethereal world of
spirits, where. If Mr. Garland cannot ex
actly be said to be at home, he is at least
a distinguished excursionist. The Investi
gations made by bun as president and mem- i
ber of the Psychical Research Society ara
not forgotten, though observed by his favor
as a novelist, and the public is likely to
give attention when he presents the case.
Incredible aa It may seem, disquieting as it
undoubtedly Is. the whole matter of spirlt
lm is become a problem which this century
seems constrained at last to face.
-
Answering an Inquiry as to the truth of
the report that, Maeterlinck's drama.
"Maria Magdalena." had been suppressed
In Russia by the imperial authorities.
Ferederlck von Oppeln. the Belgian au
thor's translator, aays in an open letter:
"The drama in question Is not even finished
and the manuscript has been seen by no
body except the writer. The only point
in connection -with the new drama worthy
of notice is that Maeterlinck Is hard at
work on the closing scenes of 'Maria Mag
dalena.' "
Alfred o. Crosier. lawyer, of Wilmington.
Del., and author of that novel of the finance
market. "The Magnet." Is another clever
advertiser. He Is a neighbor of General
Dupont, of powder-trust fame, and it Is
related that a few days before General
Dupont resigned as head of the speaker's
bureau of the Republican exectuive com
mittee, that Mr. Crosier wrote President
Roosevelt hinting that General Dupont was
too much of a political heavyweight to
carry. Then came General Pupont's resig
nation. Moral: Renewed interest In Mr.
Crosier and his novel.
'The Age of Shakespeare," Mr. Swin
burne's forthcoming work of Elizabethan
criticism. Is to be concerned with those
dramatists who in the light of Shakespeare
are lesser known; or, as the author's verse
phrases It, "those whose glory shone round
Shakespeare's." These are Marlowe, Web
ster, Dekker. Marston, Mlddleton. Rowley.
Haywood. Chapman and Cyril Tourneur. It
thus becomes evident that Mr. Swinburne
has not duplicated In this new volume the
criticism In his previous book on Shake
speare, or In that on Ben Jonsnn. "The Age
of Shakespeare" Is to be published simul
taneously in England and In this counjry.
This "real oute'' press agent's notice re
lating to John Kendrlck Bangs Is Just out:
A clergvman was calling recently on the
author of "Potted Fiction." the only vest
pocket Carnegie library on the market, and
while looking around Mr. Bangs' beautiful
library espied the typewriting machine upon
which his host performs his professional
duties.
"Ah!" said the clergyman. "Is this the
vnarhlna that John Kendrlck bangs?"
Popular account has It that his host's
Innate reverence for the cloth was all that
prevented him from tearing It Into snreos.
Ha!
e ...
A sympathetic appreciation of "Lom
broso. Prophet and Criminologist." by Pro
fessor Gugllelmo Ferrero. la a biographical
feature of the current number of the Cen
turv. Tha writer Is orofeeeor of Roman his
tory In the University of Turin, and Is to
lecture at the Lowell Institute in Boston
in November and December on the 'funda
mental problems of Roman history. He
says he would call LomDroso neitner a nat
uralist nor an anthropologist, nor a sociolo
gist; "I should call him a Jewish prophet
In the garb of a modern philosopher. This
Is the most accurate and comprehensive
definition of his personality."
...
Henry James In his crusade for a "less
dreadful" American voice attracted many
disciples and believers. One of these, evi
dently. Is Miss Katherlne Jewell Everts,
whose vigorous discussion and helpful hints
on the matter the Harpers have Just In
cluded In a little volume called "The Amer
ican Voice." Being a well-known teacher
of voice-culture, Mies Everts Is able to give
plain-directions for overcoming common de
fects of speech, especally that hardness and
shrillness of Intonation to which Americans
are admitted to be peculiarly prone. The
exerclees recommended are so simple and
natural that anyone can follow them with
out trouble.
...
It was predicted when Mr. Howells made
his Journey to Rome last January that the
fruit of the Winter and Spring months
which he spent there would be a book on
Rome. Announcement has Just been made
that such a book, to be entitled "Roman
Holidays," is now forthcoming. It Is to
be not a novel, but a group of sketches in
the informal essays style which many of
Mr. Howell's readers proclaim shows his
art at Its best. Blended with the mellower
reflection of the late sojourn are certain
to be the youthful Impressions of that first
visit to Rome some 40 years ago, hence it
is not too much to expect to find Mr.
Howells In the new book In real holiday
mood.
...
. One of the richest of Autumn promises
in the book world Is a critical volume by
Henry Mills Alden. for 40 years editor of
Harper's Magazine, on the subject of "Mag
azine Writing and the New Literature."
The authority and pleasure which a work
of this sort seems destined to contributo
to modern commentary are genuinely rare.
It Is not to be a critique of the style and
material of a magazine, but will be devoted
Wretched
PORTLAND, Ocf. . (To the Editor.)
The accompanying anonymous poem,
committed to memory nearly 60 years
ago. by the undersigned and various
members of her family. Is 'recalled by the
courageous attitude of The Oregonlan
and many of Its contemporaries toward
those unfortunate women who have re
duced to Its last analysis the problem of
sex-dependency for self-support, and are
compelled bv man-made law to bear
alone the penalties of a mutual or double
sin. Verily the world is moving, and
men and women are moving with it to
ward the goal of equal rights for both
the sexes the only cure for the social
evil. ABIGAIL, SCOTT DCNIWAT.
The night. was dark and bitter cold:
The low dun clouds all wildly rolled.
Scudding before the blast.
While cheerlessly the frozen sleet,
Adown the melancholy street
Crept onward thick and fast.
When crouched at an - unfriendly door.
Faint, sick and miserably poor,
A silent woman sat.
She might be young and had been fair.
But from her eyes looked out despair
All dim and desolate.
Was I to pass her coldly.
Leaving her there to pine and die.
The livelong, freezing night?
The secret answer of my heart
Told me I had done my part
In flinging her a mite.
She looked her thanks, then drooped her head
-Have you no borne no friend?" I said,
"Get up. poor creature, come
You seem unhappy, faint and weak.
How can i neii iw - - j ,
Or whither help you home?"
"Alas! kind sir. poor Ellen Gray
Has had no friend this many a day;
And but that you look kind.
She has not found the face of late
To look on her In aught but hate.
And still despairs to find.
"And for a home, would I had none!
The home I have's a wicked one.
She will not let me In
Till I can fee my Jailer's hands
With the vile tribute she demands.
The wages of my sin.
"I see your goodness on me frown;
But hear the veriest wretch in town.
While yet in life she may
Tell the ?ad story of her grief.
Though heaven alone can bring relief
To wretched Ellen Gray.
"My mother died when I was born.
And I was cast, a babe forlorn
Upon the workhouse floor.
My father would I knew him not,
A squalid thief, drunken sot,
I dare not tell you more.
"And I was bound, an Infant slave.
Whom np one loved enough to save
From cruel, sordid men
A friendless, famished factory child, ,
Morn, noon and night I tolled and toiled
But I was happy tben.
"My heart was pure, my cheek was fair:
Ah! would to God a cancer there
Had eaten out its way!
For soon my tasker. dreaded man.
With treacherous arts and wiles began
To mark me for his prey.
"And months by months he vainly strove
To light the flame of lawless love
In my most loathing breast.
Oh. how I feared and hated him
So basely kind, so smoothly grim.
My terror and my pest!
"But one day at the prison mill,
I yielded to his stronger will
Forgot myself and fell!
Tis the old story, stranger, friend,
The story with the tragic end
That drags us down to belli
to the consideration of general magazine
influence during the last two centuries, and
will be concerned also with the significant
development In the sensibility of the publlo
during that time. Mr. Alden has alwae
written with a rare personal touch, and he
has here a field of such rich Interest that
the reader's anticipation becomes very keen.
...
E. Phillips Oppenhelm's Autumn novel,
"The Long Arm of Mannlster." which will
see the light next week, is unlike any of
Mr. Oppenhelm's other popular stories. The
hero Mannlner. a powerfully-drawn char
acter, la the victim of a cruel plot of a
band of conspirators. Undaunted by the
great odds against him. be proceeds to re
venge himself, circumstances are such that
he Is obliged to mar, out an entirely dif
ferent plan of procedure against each of
the conspirators. One by one. Mannlster
seeks out his enemies, and single-handed
administers to them the punishment th.v
deserve. Hla quest takes him to many parte
of the world and the Ingenuity of device and
boldness of execution of hie astounding ad
ventures keep ths reader guessing.
...
Among all the magazines the most not
able progress during recent months has
been made by the Broadway Magaslne.
which appears for October under the name
of Hampton's Broadway Magazine, the ad
dition of the personal name being that of
Benjamin B. Hampton, the editor and pub
lisher. There are four other exceptionally
Interesting articles one by Lindsay Denl
son on newspapers, press agents, tainted
news, and made-to-order trouble; one bv
James H. Collins on "The Business
Woman :" a humorous one by Porter Emer
son Browne on "Tin Pan Alley." where all
the papular songs are "manufactured: and
one on the dancing rraze. Illustrated by
very beautiful photographs of the leading
dancers. The fiction is decidedly good.
NEW BOOKS RKCCIVEU.
"Wee Winkles at the Mountains," by Oa
brielle K. Jackson, $1.25. (Harpers.)
"Cupid's Almanac and Outdo to Heartl
eulture," compiled by P. Cupid, by John
Cecil Clay and Oliver Herfonl, 00 cents,
(Houghton-Mifflin Co.).
"The Wide Awake Girls," by Katharine
Ruth Ellis. $150. (Little Brown Co.).
"Long Odds," by Harold Blndloss, $1 50.
(Small-Maynard.).
"Porflrlo Diaz." by Rafael de 7.avai
Bnrlquez. Illustrated. $l..v (Applotons.i.
"Weeping Cross." by Henry L. Stuart.
$1.40. (Doubleday-Page.).
"The One and I." by Elizabeth Free
mantle (J. W. Jacobs A Co. I.
"Mv Auto Book," by Walter Pulitzer.
Illustrated. $1. (Outing Publishing Com
pany.). "Waldo French and Others." by Henry B.
Fuller. (Scribner's.)
"The Methods of Mr. Ames." by Frederlo
Carrel. $150 (Mitchell Kennerley.)
"Quatrains of Christ." by George Creel. 7
cents. (Paul Elder 4 Co.)
Giving Cuyler "The
Squeeze" ,
Continued From Pag 9.
lookin' him all over from head to foot,
was a caution. Sneer! Tou could al
most hear It.
Cuyler tries to laugh It off at first:
but the longer them eyes of Hasssn'i
travels over htm the ttneasler he gets,
for wantln' to have folks think him
the top of the cream bottle Is Cuyler's
weak point. And here was a dead broke
foreigner showin' plain that he put
him In the plugged nickel class. Cuy
ler gets red around the neck and shifts
in his chair. At last he has enough.
"Oh, I say, Florrle," says he, "let up,
will you! I was only Joking, you know.
I I'd be delighted to send this fellow
back home. Reully, I would."
"Money talks," says Florrle.
Cuyler groans, but he digs up a cou
ple o twenties.
"Two more,"' says Florrle. "Thanks.
I'll explain to Hassan what a whole
souled, generous chap you are. Going,
are you? Well, so long, Cuyler." And
as he sneaks out Florrie gives me ths
wink.
"Gee. Florrle!" says I. "but you're an
elegant lemon squeezer! And Hassan
sure deserves It, don't he?"
Deserves nothing." says Florrie.
"He's the laziest, most dishonest scoun
drel that ever swindled a Cairo tour
ist. But we needn't tell Cuyler that."
(Copyright, 1908, by Associated Sunday
Magazine.)
Ellen Gray
"Thenceforward drooped my stricken head;
I lived, I died a life of dread.
Lest they should guess my shame.
But weeks and months would pass away.
And all too soon the bitter day
Of wrath and ruin came.
"I could not hide my changing form;
Then on my head the awful storm
Of gibe and Insult burst!
Men only mocked ma for my fate.
But woman's scorn and woman's hate
Ma their poor sister cursed 1
"Oh. woman! had thy klndless face
But gentler looked on my disgrace
And healed the wounds It gave!
I was a drowning, sinking wretch.
Whom no one loved enough to stretch
A finger out to save!
"They tore my baby from my heart
And locked It In eome hole apart
Where I could hear Its cry.
Such was the horrid poorhouie law.
Its little throes I never saw.
Although I heard It dial
"Still the stone hearts that ruled the place
Let me not kiss my darling's face
My little darling, dead.
Oh! I was mad with rage and hate.
But still all sullenly I sat.
And not a word I said.
"I would not stay; I could not bear
To breathe the same Infected air
That killed my precious child!
I watched my time and fled away.
The live-long night, the live-long day
In fear and angulea wild.
"Till, down a river's bank.
Twenty leaguea off, I fainting sank
And only longed to die!
I had no hope, no home, no friend,
No God! I sought but for an end
To Ufa and misery.
"Ah! lightly heed the righteous few,
Bow little to themselves la due,
With all things given to them!
Tet, the unwise, because untaught.
The wandering sheep, because unsought.
They thoughtlessly condemn!
"And little can the untempted dream.
While gliding smoothly on life's stream
They keep the better laws
What they would be.
If tossed like me,
They knew how hunger gnaws!
"I was half starved! I tried In vain
To get me work my bread to gain;
Before me flew my shame!
Cold charity put up her purse.
And none looked on me but to eurse
The child of evil fame.
-Alas why need I count by links.
Tha heavy lengthening chain that sinks
Mv life, my soul, my all?
I still was fair, though hope was dead,
And so I sold myself for bread.
And lived upon ray fall!
"Now I was reckless, bold and bad.
My love was hate! I grew half mad
With thinking on my wrongs!
Disease and pain and giant sin
Rent body and soul and raged within,
Such need to guilt belongs.
"And. what I was, such still am I!
Unfit to live, afraid to die;
And yet, I hoped I might
Meet my best friend and lover. Death
In the fierce frowns and frozen breatr
Of this December night,
"My tale is told, my heart grows cold;
I cannot stir, yet good, kind sir.
I know that you will stay.
But God Is kinder e'en than you,
Will he not look In pity too,.
On wretched Ellen Gray?"
Her eyes were fixed, she said no morej
But propped against the cold street door.
She leaned her fainting head..
One moment she looked up and smiled.
Full of new hope, as Mercy's child.
And tha poor girl iwas dead. ,