New-York tribune., 1909-04-04
By Hornor Cotes
Drawing by Frank Tenney Johnson

no You happen to know the CCubiculum3 Club :
4 Few do. but those privileged ones find Ger
tam charm IN the little quaint old clubhouse Oh
a narrow back street where no traffic comes ana
scarcely foot passenger goes by but close to the
throbbug heart Of the great city whose roar does not
penerate this quiet precinct though little more tha
{ stones throw away.
If You have the right of entrance and 60 there
nidday YOU viii find ten a dozen men seated
round a long black table whose wooden primitive
EesS is not hidden by any show Of napery on VIII
ind poet two, artist a novelist perhaps II
may be 4 doctor or a lawyer or college professor.
men OF letters editors dramatistS. newspaper men
Perhaps al regular frequenters OF the place. or
there may be guest from distance whose name IS
familiar N print. who comes 10 the club > dally
eae0n." TO use an old word that the atmosphere
oi The house suggests WinStanley, who discovered
that monkeys have a language and IS now studying
It's grammar the African forest used 10 come. ana
poor Old Bellisario the actor constant when he
was PLAYING IN the city. There are some regular
standbvs almost daily 10 be found there and some
who come and 90
Ternison. the special correspondent when at home,
comes several times a week; but at the outbreak OF
IN the East some years ago Of course he off At
once Life moves swiftly nowadays, and a man you
have not seen for q year you have almost forgotten
50 hat while at first he missed, the club soon
gre accustomed TO seeing some one else the place
table that belonged by general consent 70 the tall
SPAR man with keen, deep set eyes and smooth
shaveu face topped by the remains of what had once
been q good crop OF brown ha1r
IN dav when he had been gone for about year,
~ the usual set was at lunch, when the door opened
and IN came a man whose bearing seemed familiar
but whose flowing gray mustache and bushy white
hair nobody recognized. Until he spoke nobody
knew Iennson; but then there general outcry
Of welcome The poet. sitting al the head OF the
table whose up brushed mustaches-sInCe ne came
pack from his summer IL GeTmany-make hun look
Ike the Kaiser, rose at with the ever ready
courtesy that marks him and stretched out his hand
eXclalming-
Why, Jennisonl What in The world nave you
oetn dong &c yourself,
g., Nelteby. the young playwright. the top OF whose
mead IS ike a billiard ball. ewing the newcomer
Ioagh has spectacles with professional stare. broke
p-~ Man avel What kind Of makeup Is that
Dearded like pard, and with a wig that doesn TT.
Jt1nlson laughed. No wig at all. Nettleby. It
come oil unless you pull II out by the roots or
a % . II We grown a crop. that's all.
49, iilI you were bald man And what little fringe
thatch ike Lears!''
- il4l little hair had was brown not red my
ma Lil oi scare out there in Manchuria and
-, -. "a 'aIleT&ard. which made it grow again but IT
Oa.Ile ia as you Il now
Cit I u'eloT across the table looked interested A
sr5 :, me- Gus shock sometimes beaches the hair
LII II might stimulate its growth if the follicles were
-es1i 1yed, fancy. HIM, yes he murmured
for r. oDCly listened 10 him the general outcry
t elie story OF such metamorphosis
,{eIlIiison smiled good humoredlv Well ii YOU
~. "li want tlll I've fed III tell the tale II you
fo~ a. suppose We got TO account TO my friends
a Iiese white locks until they oct ,,sed Ia them
Il