davidaulloa/AmericanStories huggingface dataset:
Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1902-04-12

A shadow social is a late form of
entertainment. 1t carries with it a
dumb supper" which shows that our
old friend the foreign cheese does not
grace the occasion by his presence.
Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1902-04-12

The King of England has given up
handshaking. If the Kings example
shall serve TO make this practice obso-
Iete his reign will be notable.
Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1902-04-12

A Connecticut school-teacher spanked
forty-nine pupils in thirty-seven min
utes. At least one of the forty-nine
ought to live to make him famous.
Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1902-04-12

Ernest Thompson-Seton says the buff
falo will soon be extinct. 1t seems that
publishers are still paying for that bit
of information.
Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1902-04-12

Mohamed Dudu has been proclaimed
Sultan Of Wadai, Africa. He is lfneal
descendant of the famous Dudu, my
huckleberry, Du.
Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1902-04-12
Anstralia's Popula '' Via

The population OF Au during tb'
creased by ~ per o
decade.
Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1902-04-12
THEY NEVER CHAD A cHaNcEy

Lost Opportunities and Their Inf1u-
ence on Lives of Men.
Probably nine out Of ten men past
middle life, if asked how it happens
that theyaare to-day only barely earning
Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1902-04-12

After Eve ate the apple and found out
what happened she probably sampled
all. the other fruit in the garden just to
see what else would happen.
Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1902-04-12

A woman cares not who writes the
songs of a nation if she can only talk
while they are being sung.
Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1902-04-12

It is usually money in your pocket if
you avoid meeting the individual who
Is a hail fellow well met.
Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1902-04-12

Which State will be the first to make
coon song-writing and singing a penal
offense?
Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1902-04-12

When a dog barks at the moon all
night it is q sure sign Of insomnia
on the part of the dog-and others.
Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1902-04-12

The Grst airship-the cow that jump
Cd over the moon.
Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1902-04-12
Westminster ADD or.or

No fewer than To Ter II AbDsJ
been buried in WestmlnS'''
The Washington times., 1902-05-11

One morning, about three years later
L found myself face to face with John
Beardsley, who was walking slowly down
Fifth Avenue with the unmistakable tread
of one who has not yet become accus-
toned to city pavements. He had been
in town about a fortnight. he told me, and
his prospects were rosy enough to sat
isfy him.
He had already sold one or two sketches
and was at work on a story for a maga-
zine. The city was so wonderful, he
said. that his imagination became sur
feited with the rich and varied food that
metropolitan life afforded it. Sometimes
he came home so bewildered with all that
he had seen during the day that he found
it impossible to sleep.
l promised to call on him. and as
left him II was with the feeling that his
enthusiasm and interest in everything
that he saw, combined with the splendid
imaginative gifts which enabled him to
see so much and to talk SO we'll, would
certainly carry him along the stony path
to a genuine success.
fully intended to call on him the next
week, but various things intervened and
so it was not until six months later that
realized, with sudden sense of my
own selfish carelessness, that l had not
done anything for this young man whom
l really liked extremely.
Then / hunted up the address he had
given me and went in search of him.
found the house, which was situated
in a very nice part of the town. but
young Beardsley was no longer there.
He had moved, and the landlady fur
nished me with his new address, which
was in a shabby street, just off the Bowery.
There l found him in a mean little hall
bedroom on the top floor. standing by the
window and looking disconsolately out at
some squalid children who were playing
in the yard below.
! have never seen anyone who seemed
so broken down by disappointment and
ill-luck as he was that day.
The Washington times., 1902-05-11

I He did not reproach me for my neglect.
| nor did 1t ever occur to him to apply to
me for aid The habits of a lifetime still
clung to him, and he was even more COM
pletely alone in the midst OF the great
city than he had been in his native vii
lage.
Apparently he had not made a single ac-
quuirtance during the six months that he
| had spent In New York. He had even
mailed his stories and verses to the
magazines instead OF calling and offering
them personally.
THE 7act is he said to me, in the sad
deyt voice that ever listened to, II have
not sufficient ability to write, and If /
cannot find employment In grocery
store, or on a street car. shall go home.
The house belongs to us free and clea'
and there is income enough to keep us
alive.
You awoke me out of a foolish little
day dream once, but tnat awakening was
nothing to what this has been. l might
make n story out of my own misfortunes,
but I doubt If shall ever be able to put
on paper what have gone through within
the last few weeks.
Look at these" he exclaimed. open
ing a bureau drawer and displaying a
score of manuscript. II honestly think
that il those editors knew what it meant
to me to see those things coming back,
one after another. some one Of them
would have bought cne, not because 1t
was fit for publication but simply as an
act of Christian charity.
We'll. / have no complaint to make.
They're right, and / was wrong to come
TO New York and try to make living
with my pen. / have been dreaming
pretty dream all these years and this is
what IL has brought me to-a hall bed
room on the East Side of the town.
81 got the last of my manuscripts back |
an hour ago. he continued, pointing to /
an envelope that lay unopened on his /
table. They had kept it so long that / /
did hope they were going to print it. But
The Washington times., 1902-05-11

| I've put my pen to. I've got 1t all here,
| you see."
Nonsense" retorted Take the ad-
vice of an old hand at the literary game
and never destroy a single paragraph that
has come out of your brain. You never
can tell when 1t will prove OF value to
you. II only by way of suggestion.
Besides, took you at your word. paid
you your cents, and now I'm going to
read the story and see what's the matter
with It,"
The next minute. in spite of his re-
strainiug hand and the angry flush that
came into his face. tore the envelope
open and took out its contents. Then L
knew what the extra postage meant. For
with the manuscript were printed proofs.
check for hundred dollars and the fol-
lowing letter:
office 'Knickerbocker Monthly
Dear Sir: Inclosed please find proofs OF
your story. accepted by us last month, to-
gether with manuscript Please read a, III
return at your very earliest convenience
as 1 have made room for your contrI5u-
tion in our July number, which goes to
press in few days. inciose. also. check
for 800. which trust you Will consider
satisfactory payment, and beg that you
will let US see your next story Yours
very truly. PETER VELLUM, Editor"
1t would not be quite fair to describe
what Beardsley said and did when placed
the check in his hands.
He is famous and successful now, and
one of the most sought after men that
New York society has ever known.
So /. may be that he would blush to
have it known that he went down on hts
knees like a child In nursery and bIub-
bered a prayer of thankfulness to God.
Then ] went out, for | saw that he was
about to cry because he could not help it,
But before / went | said to him:
"Beardsley. you've touched bottom in the
slough of despond. and now you're on the
rebound. The luck has changed and the
tide is with you"
Copyright. 1902. by James L. Ford)
The Washington times., 1902-05-11
By JAMES L. FORD.

T would be hard to find NOWADAYS any,
one possessing even the slightest
familiarity with contemporaneous lit
erature who does not know the novels
VI the hero of this little story, whom /
snail call John Beardsley, because that
is not his real name.
"hen / first made his acquaintance.
however, he was about as little known as
any shy young man of twenty could pos
sibly be.
AT mat time he had never been dozen
miles out of the little village in central
new York, in which he had been born.
ana where, in company with his mother
ana younger sister, he had grown up in
mat genteel poverty which is almost as
pil'er as the bread of charity. holding
himself aloof from such meager society
as the village afforded, and living to a
great extent In bookland, for the Boards
ieys mad been readers as well as dreamers
from time immemorial and although the
iather had died land poor" the big black
walnut bookcases in the old white pillarel
mouse ovcrfiowed with the best of French
and English literature.
spent a summer in this village and
was strongly attracted to John Beardsley.
am ashamed to say that my liking
lor him was due chiefly to the fact th.%
he regarded me with reycrentiai awe, be
cause i was a writer by procession. and
nc had never met one of the guild in his
life before
so fattering was the Difference that he
PAID me, so genuine and simple the inter
est with which he listened to everything
that l said, that it was not long before
L pronounced him most agreeable talker
and charming companion.
AT the end of a fortnight he confessed
10 me that he had been dedicated by his
family. almost from the moment of his
birth. to the profession of letters. His
great-uncle had published two volumes
OF essays which still held their honorcd
The Washington times., 1902-05-11

treasury-for the purpose of establishing
himself in New York as a general essayist
and book reviewer, / took particular pains
to enlighten him in regard to what he
might expect
/ told him that out of every hundred
college graduates fully twenty-five came
to New York on the completion Of their
college course with the intention of writ
ing book reviews and dramatic criticisms.
i told him, moreover. that there was no
way in which an applicant for work on a
daily paper could destroy his chances as
effectually and speedily as by telling the
editor that he would like to review books
and criticise plays.
As to getting acquainted with bankers
daughters in stages, and getting invita-
tions to their palatal Fifth Avenue
homes that was completely thing Of the
past. II was a custom which belonged to
that dead and gone age when the "Grecian
bend was at the height of its vogue and
there was straw in the horse cars.
left him utterly cast down by what
had told him of metropolitan life and
customs. and few days later. when 1
thought him strong enough to bear it, l
told him that the demand for poems of
nature and imaginative stories of the sort
that he had evolved from the solitude of
his book-loving life was not Unsuitable.
Then | cheered his heart slightly by
telling him that l really believed that
there was place for him in the world
of letters. provided he fitted himself for
it by contact with men and women and
the study of humanity
The boy had a fine Imagination, cul-
tivated by a knowledge of great deal
of the best of English fiction, and a
large vocabulary, although he was not
always judicious in his use of words.
thought that his chance of making
living by his pen was very
good one, but / freely confess that /
could not see in the stories which he
showed me any promise whatever of the
great fame he now enjoys.
The Washington times., 1902-05-11
AT SASCHATWAY STATION

TIME station was nothing more than
platform. AS for the town, that
L was scarcely village. aud not
even chimney OF it could be seen
from the railroad. 1t was a pretty place.
nestled among the hills that kept the
track well away from 1t. but the girl had
not looked at them as she hurried toward
this little station in the woods
she was seventeen and pretty. Her
gown was Of plain material, but was fash
ioned with careful imitation of the lat
est mode, and it became her. In her hand
she carried a valise, worn and battered.
and of antiquated pattern. This she quickly
dropped behind her when she discovered
another person at the station.
This was woman looking to be twenty
five. She was dressed in rather "a con-
spiouous gown, the skirt dotted with
large figures of arabesque design. and the
waist standing out luridly red in tie land
scape OF green. She wore a picture hat
Of pronounced type, and was sitting on
the edge of the platform. tanning herself
with handkerchief
The girl and the woman looked at each
other for minute before speaking II
was inevitable that they should speak
SO far as eye could see they were the
only human creatures about. Birds were
caroling all around them. brook gurgled
happily on its way just at the foot of
the railroad embankment. The sunshine
was brilliant against the blue of the au-
tuEn sky. With nature SO harmonious
an environment man never waits for an
Introduction to his fellow
Its a mite warm, isn't it?''
The girl began the conversation.
Yes, I've found 1t SO in walking" an
swered the woman.
lhere was resonant quality TO her
voice that caused the girl to take an
other sharp look at her. but the note Of
hopelessness that was also apparent quite ,
eluded her attention.
did you come far?" she inquired. add
ing with an apologize little laugh. ITS
queer to meet anybody here that doesn't
belong in saschatwav"
The woman glanced up at the name |
painted on board set up at the back of |
the platform and then asked:
How far is the town from here?"
About mile and a half. But IL isn't /
much of a town There's nobody there
'ut old people and babies. That's what
always say. Everybody's glad to get
Iway. Some folks say it's bound to be
lively in summer, now the railroads
The Washington times., 1902-05-11
By MATHEW WHITE, Jr.

I opened up, but then there'Il be the win
ters just the same. I'm not a scrap sorry
I'm going away
You are leaving for good, them"
Il hcne it amt for bad. Are you 60
ing to the city," with sudden burst of
interest.
1t seemed as though the other was
Obliged to moisten her lips before she
replied In a voice that was scarcely aud
ible. Yes"
And do you belong there?'
Yes. that's my home" and as she spoke
the woman stopped tanning for an instant,
in order TO wipe her eyes with a quick
movement of ker handkerchief.
The girl seemed to forget all about the
homely bag. She went over t. seat herself
on the rough planks beside the ether
woman.
You can tell me lots 1 want to know,
then" she began excitedly. I'm going
there for the first time. and. of course. I'm
green. But don't see why ! can't 20 on
just as other girls have whove come from
the country There's Mana Watts, right
at the very TOP now. and she started out
just the way mean to, OH" and the girl
checked herself suddenly. 1--WE as good as
told you, haven't l. And not a soul knows
about it. But then. you're going right
along on the train. so 1t doesn't matter"
No. I'm not going on the train. can't
very well. I'm only resting here"
The girl opened her eyes to their widest.
Not going on the traini' she exelaimed d.
But you said you were going to the
city
Il am. but I'm obliged TO walk / sup
pose | ought to be moving on now"
But ! don't understand
The girls gaze was fixed on the con-
spicuous gown. the befeathered hat. and
the high heeled French boots, and she
was incredulous.
Suppose l tell you the whole story?"
said the woman
"Oh. wish you would, I'm sure II
must be an awful Interesting story"
TITS awful, can vouch for that part OF
It," rejoined the other, with a sad sort
of smile. Then she went on with ges-
ture comprehending her attire: I'm
wearing these because happened to have
them on in the play when the trunks |
were seized"
Then you are an actress" exclaimed |
the girl. Her eyes glowed with admira |
tion. She scarcely breathed. so great |
was her interest in the revelation about |
to be maze to her.
Yes, I'm an actress; but listen. / had
a good part last season and saved a little
The Washington times., 1902-05-11

money, but in the new play there was a
walked the streets for weeks in the hot
/ test weather trying to get something else
but, even with my experience in my ia
/ vor, there seemed no chance. For every
| part there were a dozen applicants.
( Finally my money dwindled so that I took
up with company in which / had little
faith and started out with them"
The woman paused an instant while a
chipmunk skipped out on the end of tie
and stood regarding her with his head on
one side, as il listening, too.
Two nights ago." she went on, what
| feared happened. The show stranded
at Allingford. our trunks were held. and
the manager skipred out Five of US
three women and two men-sat up all
night in the railroad station, and the
next morning. without a bite of break
fast, We started to walk back to the city.
AT Binghamton some people took pity On
us and helped us with food and lodging.
Ny companions decided to stay there n
while. TO wait for funds from home. but 1
had nothing to expect. so started on
alone. l was resting here when you came
along"
AT ;his instant the whistle OF the lcco-
motive sounded through the hills. The
girl started to her feet and drew some
thing from the bodice of her gown.
Here. she said, pressing it on the ,,o-
man, this will pay your fare to the city.
I'd saved 1t up for mine. but | amt going
now. Yes. you must take it. What you've
told me has been more than the moneys
worth to me, and | feel owe it TO Won.
so say no more about it,
The woman's further protests were lost
in the shrill sounl of escaping steam as
the engine came TO 6 snorting standstiIl
Just beyond the platform. With a quick
movement the actress seized the girl in
her arms. and kissed her. and then
stepped aboard the train
The girl remained standing there
thoughtful. so long time after it had
gone that the chipmunk began to trot
fcarlessly back and forth over the ties
again. Then. as she picked up the old /
valise and began to walk back toward the |
village that was hidden by the hills. the |
little fellow made a sudden dart and sour |
ried to the top Of the tallest tree.
Inc girl caught a feeting glimpse OF
him and smiled. and then looked about
at the leaves, fecked with sunshine and
backed by the everlasting hills as though
she saw them now with new ewes Ard
unconsciously she quickened her stems
homeward.
The Washington times., 1902-05-11
By HARRIET CARYL COX.

| old fool. and know It"
And l never gave you any cause?"
"No!''-a happy light in his eyes. You
are true as steel, dear. and I'll promise
never to be Jealous again"
You will never have cause" she re-
piled, simply. For l love you and no
one else. Stephen dear"
She had been sent for suddenly.
Clinton Jewett is dying and wants to
see you.' voice had said out of the
darkness. when. late at night, loud knocks
had aroused the family.
She had dressed rapidly and silently
sped over the frozen ground
He was thrown from his horse and in
1ured internally" her companion explain
ed. painting in his endeavor to keep pace
with her. His mother is there and his
sister. but he wanted to see you"
There was a hush in the sick room as
she entered. His mother drew aside and
she knelt by the injured mans bed
Il have loved you so WE'LL" he said.
weakly trying to press the warm hand
that held his, "and 1t has made me 30
happy"
A smile fitted across his face like that
of child.
II do not know how 1t is, but all my
life I've had an ideal before me. | knew
should find her some day, so I've tried
to live to be worthy of her. And have
lived worthily'-looking up triumphantly
into the tear-stained face. II have found
her In you"
There was moments silence.
Il know that you do not love me-" he
said sadly, but love you so well, dear,
nd"-wistfully-"I want you to marry
me, before 1 60"
She started to speak.
1T will be for so short time, dear
II do not ask for your life
that perhaps belongs to ,another?"
She bowed her head, while the tears |
ran unchecked down her cheeks.
Surely you will grant me this" he |
began eagerly; Just day-an hour-per- |
haps only moment-to feel that you are |
mine. And then when | am gone twill
be but memory of how you had made
a dying man happy-given him one
glimpse of the heaven to which he hopes
be is going
Her lips scarcely m7ved.
IL cannot-oh, 80. g.. 80 -, moaned
A shadow fell over SO.
The Washington times., 1902-05-11

place in one Of the tall black walnut
there should always be at least one lit
erary man in the family.
He had even been writing stories by
stealth. though he lacked the courage TO
send them to any publirher. And in the
course of two o. three years he hoped
to 20 to New York and try to make a
living with his pen.
The pictures that his fancy had paint
ed regarding literary life In New York
were so ingenuously absurd that ! asked
him from what source he had derived
| them.
In reply, he took from the bookcase the
one false and trashy work of fiction that
it contained and opened it at we'll
thumbed chapter which showed a literary
man writing book reviews before an open
fire with a teakettle simmering on the
hob and publishers checks and dinner
invitations coming In by every mail
1t was one of Mrs. Stoves later novels
and il treated OF the career of young
man of letters who came to New York
to write book reviews aud critical essays
and was fortunate enough TO make the
acquaintance of bankers daughter in a
Broadway stage.
This book. with its bizarre pictures of
millionairedom and cambria tea bo-
hemianism had taken strong hold on the
boys fancy, and it was a severe shocl;
TO him to learn, as he did Immediately
after placing the book in my hands, that
its pictures of lie and society in New
York were not TO be depended upon.
There are some persons who consider
it cruel to destroy what they call harm
less Illusions but am not of that way
of thinking. Ver7 few illusions are harm
less. and a great many of them are dis
tinctly dangerour therefore the process
of uprooting them may fairly be likened
to that of removing tIlmor.
When / found that this inexperienc d
young man was iayg aside moncy-and |
there was little enough of it in the family |
The Washington times., 1902-05-11

| now shall never send anything to them
or to any other magazine again. My dream
is over. belong behind a counter. or in
barber shop
He turned again to the window and
saw his hand raise slyly to his eyes and
heard what sounded like a sob.
For want of something better to do,
I picked up the bulky envelope and read
the address and the printed announce
ment of the magazine from which it had
been sent I myself have had too many
of my manuscripts returned not to know
what an envelope. containing a rejected
contribution. looks like. This one had
been sent to his old address in the nice
street and forwarded to him from there.
'Is there no other magazine that you
can try this on?" / inquired.
None that I would risk six cents
worth of postage stamps on" he an
swered.
/ noticed that this envelope had 10
cents worth of postage on 1t, and it came
from an office in which money is never
squandered.
Suppose you let me read this" con-
tinued. Il may be able to suggest some
thing
I'D rather not, II you don't mind.'' he
said quietly. and without turning Ills bead
from the window. You might be moved
to say something about 1t that would start
me off in my old dream again, and now
that l am awake / prefer to stay awake
Besides. 1 am not going to risk 6 cents
on that manuscript again. I'll sell It to
you for cents. if you like, but I warn
you that it's robbery to take your money"
'Tll give you 6 cents for the privilege
of reading the story I said as placed
a nickel and cent on the table.
mo. please don't" he exclaimed, turn
ing from the window and coming quickly
to the table where was sitting i've
made up my mind not to open it. / don't
want to read the polite note of regret |
that they've sent with it. I'm going to |
make bonfire o. every scrap of paper /