THE SUNDAY OREGOXIAX, PORTLAND, JULY 13, 1913.
ing as the reason that no steps were
being taken by his Majesty's govern
ment to mitigate the terrible poverty
of the district which he represented In
Parliament.
Lord Stamfordham should, of course,
have taken care to ascertain If Thome
would accept the Invitation before it
was sent to him officially, and so
avoided the scandal of a public refusal
on the part of the member for the
district to meet the sovereign.
There has never .been a worse piece
of official bungling at court than the
way In which this affair was managed.
Lord Stamfordham. of course, placed
Louisiana Has a Leaning Tower
the blame of it on his subordinates, but
it entailed on him nevertheless severer
royal comment on his action than he
ever had to listen to before.
The fact is that there was never
any need at all for the King to go
BT E. L. SCOTT.
LONDON. July 12. No star of tbe
footlights has a more enthusiastic
and Indefatigable "press agent"
than has Kins George In Lord Stam
fordham. his private secretary, but al
though an elaborate scheme for boom
ing the King, planned by Lord Stam
fordham, has been vigorously carried
out, it has not been anything like suc
cessful In achieving Its object as Its
noble Inventor hoped.
Lord Starafordham, it may be ex
plained, stands in much the same re
lation to King 'George as Lord Knollys
did to the late King.
Lord Stamford ham is ou of the old
est and certainly the most intimate
and trusted friend of the English mon
arch over whom he has considerable
personal Influence, far more influence
indeed than King Edward ever al
lowed anyone to exercise over him.
Lord Stamfordham, as Captain Ar
thur Biggs, first took office in the
royal household as a Groom-in-Waitlng
to Queen Victoria, to whom he later
acted as private secretary for some
years; but from the outset of his con
nection with the court, the prince whc
Is now King, felt an especial liking for
him. After the royal marriage Cap
tain Biggs looked after King George's
private affairs, though it was not un
til King Edward's accession that he
was officially appointed private secre
tary to the then Prince of Wales,
when he was created a baronet. After
King Edward's death Sir Arthur Biggs
was created Lord Stamfordham and
went to Buckingham Palace to share
the duties of private secretary to the
monarch with Lord Knollys.
It was about six months after King
George came to the throne that Lord
Stamfordham began to map out a def
inite policy for bringing the King as
much as possible into the public eye.
Royal tours through the great Indus
trial districts, visits to the East End
of London and the attendance of the
monarch at an inordinately large num
ber of public ceremonies were arranged
anl other methods planned for bring
ing and keeping the monarch as much
as possible in the "limelight."
Neither King George nor Lord
Knollys altogether approved of these
plans. King George because he some
what naturally disliked the idea of go.
ing out of his way to Increase the
scope and extent of those special duties
of the monarch which he particularly
dislikes, and Lord Knollys because he
did not think that they would be suc
cessful in their object, which was to
increase the general popularity of the
King, and because they might, he
knew, have the reverse effect.
But Lord Stamfordham got his own
way; his policy of "booming the King"
has been for the past year in full op
eration, and there is probably no one
who regrets having had anything to
say to these efforts to Increase the
monarch's popularity more than Lord
Stamfordham himself, for they have in
volved him in no end of trouble and
have utterly failed to bring about the
results they were intended to do.
A big mistake was the publication in
Seven-Y ear-Old Tot Played the Piano at
Two and Is a Composer at Seven
DORIS RYAN, seven years old. Chi
cago's musical prodigy, declares
she learned her music from the
angels. Choirs of angels with shining
wings, the child says, visit her pillow
by night and in her dreams sing songs
to her which she remembers and plays
on her piano the next day.
Her ability as a pianist, composer
and orchestra leader has attracted the
interest of musicians. Chicago had its
first public introduction to her not
long ago. Orchestra Hall, shrine of
classic music, built as the home of the
orchestra founded by Theodore Thomas,
was crowded with a fashionable as
semblage. An orchestra of 35 pieces
was tuning up. A chair was placed
on the leader's dais.
From beneath the stage came Doris
Ryan, a fragile little figure In white
frock and blue sash, embarrassed,
blushing, hanging her head as a thou
sand lorgnettes and opera glasses were
trained upon her. She was lifted upon
the chair she was so small that the
musicians could not have seen her if
she had not been thus elevated. A
baton was placed in her hand. As her
fingers closed about it her trepidation
vanished. She straightened her little
body, threw back her head and tapped
a music rack with an air of authority.
Then as she waved her baton the or
chestra plunged gayly Into the music
of "The Doris March." a tuneful, dash
ing melody composed by the child her
self. Throughout the rendition the little
girl seemed perfectly self-obllvlous and
lost in the music. There was no trace
of stage fright about her. She directed
the orchestra In a way that left no
doubt in the minds of musicians or
audience that she knew exactly what
she wished done.
When the music needed a stronger
touch of the violins or reeds she turned
to those instruments and with vigorous
beats of her baton urged them In
greater emphasis. Once the horns did
not play as she thought they should
and she waved at them decisively and
stamped her foot In a burst of tempera
mental Irritation. Again, the music
seemed to drag slightly.
"Not that way," cried the little
maid with a frown, and she cut the
air with a quick, angry stroke that
woKe the musicians to a livelier meas
ure. '
As the last note of the march died
away Doris ceased suddenly to be the
leader of the orchestra and became a
child again. Her embarrassment re
turned. She did not turn and bow to
the audience, which had burst Into a
tumult of applause, but climbed down
from her chair and slipped away out of
view in tne snaaows beneath the stare.
One of the members of the archestra
caught her in his arms and carried
her out before the audience again. She
II ft n tr i &r 1S;, '
volume form of King George's public
speeches made during the past ten
years. Lord Knollys was strongly op
posed to their publication. . The only
thing that could possibly Justify such a
proceeding would be that the volume
should be a tremendous success and
Lord Knollys knew it was a hundred
to one against such a volume having
anything but an extremely small sale.
But the volume was published; it
was, of course, given the widest pub
licity In the press, but the book was
an absolute failure, and of the 600
copies printed by way of a first edition,
certainly not more than 100 were sold;
and no wonder, for there is no monarch
living who has to be more guarded in
his public utterances than King George,
and the volume was simply a collection
of obvious platitudes.
The royal visits to the East End of
London and the industrial north have
all been conspicuous failures. From the
King's visits to the north great things
were expected. On the first occasion
when the King visited the mining dis
tricts in February last an effort was
made to obtain an address of welcome
from the federated miners. His Majesty
was offered one from the mine owners,
but this was not what was wanted by
Lord Stamfordham. What he wanted
he failed to get, and so the King had
to be content with the quite respect
ful but not specially enthusiastic greet-
hid her face on his shoulder. "Bow to
the people," urged the musician. So, 1
timidly, she straightened up in his
arms and bowed her acknowledgment
to the thunder of clapping hands.
Did the orchestra play your music
to suit you?" Doris was asked after
the concert.
"No, they didn't not exactly," re
plied this critic of seven. "They
missed the tempo several times and
they did not always bring out the
music. They wanted to play it in their
way and their way was not always
right. I wrote the music and I know
Just how it should be played and I tried
to make them play it my way. But,
after all. the orchestra did pretty well."
Doris was born in Detroit. She is
the daughter of Sylvester and Millie
E. Ryan. She Is the youngest of six
children. Her father Is a printer and
her mother a dressmaker. Neither her
parents nor her brothers and sisters
have any special musical talent. Doris
was born a musician. Her musical
aptitude manifested itself while she
was a baby in arms.
When only a few months old she
would lie quiet and happy in her cradle
while her mother played some simple
melody on the piano. But one discord,
one mistake in the harmonic working
out of the music, and sobs and shrieks
would come from the crib in which the
tiny musician lay. "
When two years old she learned to
play the piano. When her mother first
set her on the stool in front of the
piano the child seemed delighted. Her
little fingers reached out and sank into
the keys as if in obedience to custom.
She struck a chord. Her mother
laughed, thinking it was an accident.
But Doris soon convinced her that it
was no accident.
In a short time the child began to
work out tunes. She never asked help.
Sometimes when her mother would at
tempt to instruct her the little girl
would show Irritation and wave her
away and work out her melody in her
own way, often after hours of effort.
At times she would play tunes which
none of the family had ever heard be
fore and which plainly were the baby's
own improvisations.
The Ryan household had an ex
perience when Doris was 4 years old.
At 2 o'clock one morninar thev were
awakened from sleep by the playing of
the piano In the parlor. They stole
downstairs and found Doris in her thin
night robe picking out a melody which
was new to them." They opened the
aoor softly. Intent upon her music the
child did not notice them as they stood
in the doorway. When the girl had
worked out the piece to her satisfac
tlon she slipped from the stool and
started back up stairs to bed. Her
mother caught her in her arms.
"Where did you learn that piece?"
uer momer asaea.
"Oh, mamma," cried Doris, "the an
geis taugnt ll to me. While I was
asleep I dreamed the angels came and
sang a song to me. It was the pret
tiest song I ever heard. I kept as still
as a mouse for fear I might scare them
away and llsteried to their singing.
When they flew away on their bright
II HE .-,
ing of the miners at the one mine Sis
Majesty visited.
The King's recent visit to the rail
way works of the London and North
Western Railway Company, at Crewe.
wings I woke up. But their song still
ran through: my head. I remembered
ii : ill 'I
yJyv?
was more successful, - but here again
Lord Stamfordham failed to entice an
address of welcome from the Amalgam.
ated Society of Railwaymen, and His
Majesty had to accept instead the joint
address of the officers and men of the
particular railway company whose
works he went to visit and the whole
affair was generally regarded as being
a first-rate advertisement for the Lon.
don and North Western Railway Com'
pany, but a poor one for the popular'
ity of the monarch.
Perhaps, however, the most unfor
tunate of all Lord Stamf ordhara's ef
forts in popularity seeking for King
George was the trip he planned to the
East End of London some little while
ago, when King George went to Ching
ford to open a new water-service res
ervoir.
There are several ways of reaching
Chingford from Buckingham Palace,
The route chosen by Lord Stamfordham
was through a place called Bow, one
of the poorest and grimiest of the slum
districts that lie east of St. Paul's
Cathedral.
The King was to be received at Bow
by the local Mayor and William Thome.
the Parliamentary representative of the
district, and both were to be presented
to the King and Queen, who was to
accompany his Majesty; such, at least,
were Lord Stamf ordham's arrange
ments, but Thorne, when he received
the invitation to meet the King, re
spectfully declined to accept it, alleg
i every note of it. I did not dare wait
1 until morning for fear I might forget
popularity hunting. Though he never
could and never will be as popular as
his father. King George was and 11
quite popular enough. Lord Stamford
ham has not succeeded In discovering
any feelings of actual disloyalty, but
what he has done Is to rind out that
the average Briton, especially the aver
age British worklngman, won't enthuse
to order about his monarch, a fact of
which the late King was fully aware.
and he never allowed any attempts to
be made to make him do so.
The visits of King Edward to the
great industrial centers were few and
Invariably made without any special
preparation, and were rarely or never
made the occasion of organized recep
tions; the people were simply left to
receive the monarch as they desired,
and they always received him well.
Lord Stamfordham has learned that
his strenuous labors in booming the
King are misdirected, and in future the
visits of his Majesty to the Industrial
towns and slum lands will be fewer
and undertaken with far less ceremony
and general advertising.
ailcrosoope and Building Stone.
Engineering- and Mining Journal.
Especially valuable are the compara-
tive microscopic studies of rock used in
building which has resisted weathering
for a long- time and that which is in
process of disintegration. The cause
of rapid weathering can be recognized
as a natural structural relation. Two
granites, for instance, of almost iden
tical mineralogical and chemical com
position can behave quite differently.
The one remains sound for years; the
other disintegrates rapidly because
delicate microscopic pressure zones run
through it. Two marbles of equal
beauty show entirely different powers
of resistance as material for a work of
art exposed to the weather, accord
ing to whether calcite individuals In
thin section interlock with sinuous out
lines or merely adjoin each other as
paving- stones.
Proofreader in All Tongues.
Indianapolis News.
James Cooper, a promoter of the par
cel post system, never saw the inside of
a schoolhouse until he was 14, but so
thoroughly has he devoted himself to
study that he has a working knowledge
of practically all the modern civilized
languages. He was born at Nantucket,
R. I., the son of a printer, and in course
of time became a master craftsman
himself. The greater part of his edu
cation was received in the printing
office. At one time he was proofreader
in all languages in the Government
printing office at Washington, D. C.
, Unexpected "Wisdom.
Judge.
"Now, children," said the Sunday
school teacher to the juvenile class,
"can any of you tell me what an epis
tle Is?"
"I can," answered a little fellow at
the foot of the class. "An epistle is
the wife of an apostle.
it. So I got out of bed and ran down
stairs to the parlor and played It on
the piano."
The next morning Doris played the
song again and Mrs. Ryan set down
the notes, wrote words to it and had it
published later under the title of "My
Lullaby." The mother's words have
caught the spirit of the child's dream
song: ,
Shadows and moonbeams are hand in hand,
Guarding the pathway to Slumberland;
fiven the lilies have cone to rest.
Safe with their heads on the river's breast.
Guardian angels with silver wins.
Silently hovering; nigh.
While the night wind sings
Of the holy things
In a mother's lullaby.
Slumber, my dearest, the Shepherd will
guide you.
All through the night he is ever near.
Keeping his watch with the angels beside
you.
Slumber, dear.
When six .years old Doris went to
school. She took great Interest in the
drills and marches of the children, but
she did not like the music to which
these exercises were performed. For
several days she sat at her piano at
home after school and tried to com
pose a march, but the music to suit her
would not como.
One night after she had gone to
sleep, according to the child's own
story, the angels came again and sang
a swinging march song to her. The
next morning she played it on her
piano, and Mrs. Ryan again set the
music upon paper. The piece was sub
sequently published as "The Doris
March, and it was this composition
which the orchestra played under
Doris' leadership at Orchestra Hall.
At 7 years of age Doris is now an
accomplished musician. She has an ar
tist's repugnance to ragtime and pop
ular music. She leans almost entirely
to musical classics. Some of her fa
vorltes are Liszt's "Twelfth Rhap
sody, Moszkowski s Serenade,
Chopin's "Nocturne" and Brahms'
"Ppelude." These pieces are difficult
even for an accomplished performer on
the piano.
Doris is a slim, pretty child, with
brown eyes and dark hair, cropped off
about her neck. She has been delicate
from babyhood.
"How do you account for your mu
sical knowledge?" the little girl was
asked recently.
"I don't know," she answered frank
ly. "I have always seemed to know
music somehow. When I first sat at a
piano the keyboard looked familiar to
me. I don't know why It just did."
"Do you really think the angels teach
you 7
"Yes."
"Do you see them plainly?"
"As plainly as I see you. They have
white robes and shining wings, and
their hair is like gold. I never see
them when I am awake. They come to
my bedside in areams and sins to me.
I remember the songs they sing. Just as
if they were printed on my brain. If
it were not for the angels I don't be
lleve I could play. I have never had
a music lesson. I have had to learn
everything else and have had to study
as hard as other little boys and girls.
When requested to play, Doris went
to the piano with a serious and demure
air. She sat on the edge of the stool,
that her toes might touch the pedals.
She played a serenade by Chopin. It
was interesting to watch her finger
ing. She thundered on the bass keys;
she rippled over the treble. At times
she lifted her hand high and dropped
a finger like a pebble on a key. In
rapid passages her small hands made a
white blur above the keys.
The eureness of her touch was re
markable. Her breadth and clearness
of tone, clear phrasing, nice nuances,
perfect rhythm and attention to de
tails brought out all the beauties of
the piece. She played with understand
ing and expression and displayed the
technique and virtuosity of an artist.
One recognized at once her real inter
pretative ability.
5$:
UNDERMINED by one of the ter
rific hurricanes of the Mexican
Gulf, the great Chandeleur light
house, on the Louisiana coast, is endea.
voring to rival the gravity defying feat
of the Leaning Tower of Pisa, in Italy.
Driven many feet out of plumb by the
tornado, the tower is being swung
further and further from the perpen
dicular by the action of the tides on
the foundation, which rests upon noth
ing more stable than the sands of the
seashore. Despairing of ever restor
THE SORROWFUL QUEEN
(CONTINUED
had worn the mantle of grief embroid
ered with tears, and
'Oh," Dicky heard his throat say
suddenly, and then there was the dark
feeling as if it hurt hurt. He kept
thinking of the chair; It was an
awfully big chair. Then his bed felt
big as big as big, almost, as the
world when there's nobody in it. And
then he thought of father. Father was
in New York with business; there was
nobody nobody to hear him say his
prayers. Prayers! Ahi Once, once he
had prayed a bad one; in bed, too, like
this: God bless everybody but her.
Maybe maybe that had made Him
take back the baby. And now, 'way,
way down there, in her own lonely
room which seemed as big as the
world, too, maybe was t-n new mama
who wanted Just to kiss children. Any
kind of children.
All at once it was somewhere in the
night Dicky felt as if his legs wanted
to get out of bed. Then there he was
In the middle of the floor, with his
fingers putting on his bathrobe and
slippers, and after that there were his
feet taking him straight down the hall
to the new mama's room.
"Come in," said a voice immediately
when he knocked.
But Dicky's ears seemed full of cot
ton he knocked three times, and
when he stood In the room, close to
the new mama's bed, staring down on
her, he could only say huskily:
"Good evening."
"Good evening," returned the new
mama, smiling beautifully.
Then, "Wont you sit down?" she
asked, as if it were quite a usual thing
for Dicky to be there, which it wasn't,
of course.
She pointed to a chair close, close
to her bed as she spoke.
"Thank you," mumbled Dicky po
litely, and down he sat, but with his
eyes shut tight.
For, though she was still smiling.
smiling even more beautifully, there
A SHELTER
(CONTINUED
hall, his sister slept, a shawl wrapped
around her shoulders. The faint bluish
gray of the early Spring dawn came
through the open window, and from
some stable near came the stamping
of horses. The Prodigal got uo stiffly
and turned out the light. The slight
motion roused the sleeper a little.
"He was always a high-spirited lad,
mother," he said clearly. "His faults
are of the head, not the heart. Don't
cry, mother. He'll come back."
The Prodigal gripped the foot of the
bed with straining hands. The old
man's eyes were open, looking at him.
"I have come, father," he said
hoarsely. But the feeble mind had
wandered. The minister was in his
church again, looking down from the
pulpit at the faces of his people. His
voice was stronger and full, and the
son shrank back into the shadow.
"My friends, let us sing together this
wonderful hymn: "There Were Ninety
and Nine ' " The voice trailed off
into silence. The old man lay there
very still. He scarcely breathed, and
A WOMAN
(CONTINUED
about like this. One of these nice
enthusiastic, high-minded, interfering
women, whoever she was, got hold of
him. You know the type. .Because he
was idle, she had the opportunity to
spring her fads upon him, and her
theory was that every man ought to
be doing something.
"She preached to him. She tempted
him, so to speak, and he fell from his
Btate of idleness and pleasant leisure
which, you understand, had been
hitherto perfectly satisfactory to him
self into the idea that he must be
doing something for himself. She
aroused his self-respect, when in this
case he was a good deal better off
without it, and the result was that he
left his wife.
"He's come back now. He got tired.
But they say things will never be the
same. His wife tolerates him now. And
all on account of a meddling woman.
China 'Will Develop
THE coal deposits of China are con
sidered greater than those of the
United States. The new republic has
reached the point where it mines 10,
000,000 tons of coal a year. Some com
petent engineers go so far as to de
clare that the coal deposits of China
are greater than those of the United
States. The production of coal In the
United States in the banner year of
1907 was about 480,000,000 tons and it
never is very much short of that figure.
France to
"Mug'
STEPS are about to be taken in
France to make possible the legal
application of the Bertillon system to
prisoners when they leave prison.
Hitherto, according to the regula
tions, M. Bertillon has been able to
photograph and measure the features
of criminals only at the time of their
arrest. But it has long been recognized
1
T'Tf
ing the lighthouse to its original up
right position, the station has been
abandoned by the United States Light
house Service and another light estab
lished in a less exposed position. Ai'
ed by the restless tides, the irresistible
"pull" of gravity will soon complete its
work and the tower will scatter its
stones upon the beach. Already the
strain is beginning to tell and cracks
which have recently appeared upon
the snow white walls are widening
ominously.
FROM PAGE 4.)
were her cheeks all wet. And, though
she was wearing just a pretty lady
nightgown, with ribbons and things,
with her hands folded together like
that, as if they were saying prayers,
she looked as if she were the sorrow
ful queen. The light from the coal
fire had shown him plainly.
"Ah," he said slowly. He opened his
eyes and stared at the carpet a mo
ment. Then he stared iiard at the new
mama. Then, "Ah I" he said again,
and then he laughed a strange, happy
little laugh.
"Wunst," he began, almost bursting
with something something that
seemed extremely pleasant oh, lovely.
"Wunst there was a boy borned."
"Yes," murmured the new mama. She
seemed to know that he was telling a
story. She unclasped her hands, put
ting one under her cheek, and turning
comfortably to face him. She looked
tremendously related to him that way
tremendously!
"He had just arms an' legs an' a
head," went on Dicky, too dazzled to
say merely that his hero was not a
prince. "But" the story was telling
Itself now "he never had any mama,
of his own. W'en he was coming
down from heaven, she was going up,
and they never met. Anyway" Dicky
was splendidly sailing now "anyway,
he don't care any more. He's got
'nother one an' she's very nice! An"
that's all."
How long the room was quiet after
this Dicky never knew. Then he saw
that he was looking straight into the
new mama's eyes, and that they were
looking straight into his looking as if
something had happened.
"Darling," she whispered, "Darling!
Darling! Darling."
Dicky said nothing. It was all too
wonderful. He only sat smiling back
sweetly, and yet a little wistfully,
thinking to himself the word he had
never wanted to think before; mama,
mama, mama. AiITA FITCH.
OF THE FOLD
FROM PAGE 3.)
the pulse in his thin neck fluttered
and almost stopped. And out of the
shadow at the foot of the bed a man
came and dropped on his knees.
"Father, father," he groaned, "don't
you know me? It's Henry, father
Henry. I've come back."
The old man was smiling a little, as
if he already saw beyond the border
land. But at the voice he roused. He
looked long and lingeringly into the
eyes of the man beside the bed; then he
lifted his hand in benediction and
placed It on the bent, shaking head.
"Henry," he said softly "Henry, my
eldest son! May God bless you!"
There was a great peace on his face.
His voice was almost gone, but the
Prodigal caught the v hispered words
that he uttered:
"For this my son was dead and Is
alive again; was lost and is found."
The room was very still; the faint,
irregular breathing stopped. And on
his knees beside the bed the Prodigal
watched and prayed.
Mary Roberts Rinehart.
IN THE CASE
FROM PAGE 4.)
You see, if he hadn't been idle, he
wouldn't have been tempted by a
woman like that to make himself any
better."
Townley mused.
"That's right," he exclaimed.- "Who
was the woman?"
"Didn't learn. She ought to be sup
pressed. But, really, it's his fault. For
example" he learned toward Townley
"she wouldn't try to meddle with a
man like you, would she?"
"Not much!" replied Townley em
phatically. "In the first place, I
wouldn't have time to listen to her.
Then again, I would support my wife."
He lifted his glass to his lips.
"I guess," he said, "that a woman like
that whoever she is would try her
theories on some one else, and leave me
in peace. That's about what my own
wife does and she's no fool!"
THOMAS L. MASSON.
Her Coal Properties
China undoubtedly could produce 100,
000,000 tons of coal a year without any
unusual strain upon her production
abilities. She might, with a compara
tively small investment, produce twice
that amount. The railroads now build
ing will require much more than the
republic can produce at present. The
great manufactories she is seeking- to
establish will be operated by .steam
power, therefore a greater impetus is to
be desired in the coal-mining business.
Convicts as They Leave
at the Prefecture of Police that after
serving a sentence of, say 10 years, a
criminal is liable to show a complete
change of appearance on his liberation.
Consequently it is very difficult for
detectives to identify him from the
Bertillon record, taken at the time of
the first arrest, if he again gets into
the hands of the police.