davidaulloa/AmericanStories huggingface dataset:
Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1912-12-29

acreage of land, called for two centuries
or longer Scotland, was owned by John
Neitch. who was born on the place in
1884 and died there in 1861. After the
bought by the Rev William K. Boyle
who was the husband of John Veitch's
daughter, Elizabeth. NJ. Boyle was the
pastor of Methodist Church In. Hyatts-
vile. and of one in Baltimore. and was
long the editor of a religious periodical
published at Baltimore.
John Veitch had four daughters. 1sa-
bella. Margaret. Elizabeth and Mary,
and two sons. Fletcher and John w.
Veitch. Fletcher became farmer IN
Veitch became a lawyer, who attained
prominence in western Maryland. and
was at one time states attorney for Gar
rett county. He also served on the mill
tary staff of four governors of Mary
land. Two sons of Fletcher Neitch are
living in Washington, one Percy FL.
Neitch, being lawyer and the other
being F. p. Veitch of the bureau of
chemistry. Department Of Agriculture.
The widow of John w. Veitch and his
daughter-granddaugh Of the war
time owner-live on the old place today.
x !:
John Veitch, who was born there in
1884, was the son of John Veitch who
ACQUIRED the Etnu ny HldTTIdSe Will
daughter of a man named Conn, the
revolutionary proprietor of this fort land.
There were two tracts of this estate,
Scotland on the east side of the Bladens-
burg road and Barbados on the west
side. One of these Veitches. probably
John LIST, was the owner of this land at
the time of the battle of Bladensburg.
August %, 1914 much of which battle
was on this land.
viii a g
fence line of the training school and in
line with the north end of the main build
ing of that institution, and walk east, YOU
will pass down path through pasture
land dotted with cedars and pines. then
into an old road little used since the civil
war, with the training school farms on
the right and tangled woodland on the
left. On the left hand the woodland breaks
down in a deep, timber-grown ravine Or
gulch, as deep and picturesque as those
Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1912-12-29

in Rock Creek valley. After about 900
PAGES from the starting point turn south
and you will see a grove of oaks on a
rounded hilltop. and under these oaks a
group of tombstones. 1t is the Veitch fam
lily burial ground.
There you may read these inscriptions:
John Veitch, born August %, 1874;
died October 8. 1851"
Caroline NJ, wife of John Veitch died
April "a. 1852
..Dr. Eldridge R., son of Rev Eldridge
B. and Elizabeth Veitch. died January
line veitch, died October IL. 1892
REV. William X. Boyle born July 16,
1910; died February 81. 1885.
Mary Elizabeth and Caroline Virginia,
infant daughters of John Veitch.'
James William, son of John and Caro-
line Veitch, died November ., 1S4S."
John A., son of William and Rachel
Veitch, died November Is. 1881
John Fletcher, 1899, and James Gavin,
1901"
In this graveyard are numerous graves
marked by large pieces of the red-brown
iron stone common in the Eastern branch
region, and The Star man was divided in
his mind whether these marked the rest
ing places of Veitches older than John
Veitch, ID. or whether they We're the
graves of Veitch slaves. 1t being the prac-
tice of so many of the old Maryland fam
lilies to set aside part of the family burial
ground for their servants.
A little farther away and in the same
grove of oaks are eighteen white head
stones similar to those in national ceme-
teries, but inscribed only with the name
of the dead This must be the cemetery of
the training school and these the graves
of poor boys.
1t is a beautiful and solemn spot, lonely
when The Star man rambled there, and so
late on a cold evening that he read the
names and dates recorded here by the
light of matches.
Half a mile north of the ruins Of
Fort Lincoln, and on the west side of
the Bladensburg road where the Dis
trict line crosses it. is fine old house
with ample stables, barns and other
outbuildings set in fine old-fashiOned
grounds There lives Col Wright
Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1912-12-29
No Money in Fame.

Upton SINCLAIR was talking about
~ the profit that publishers make from
authors.
1.-The merchant" he said. pays his
salesman 10 or Is per cent commission.
while tho publisher, who is the author s
salesman. pays the author 10 or II per
cent, keeping the balance for himself.
This seems rather queer.
ut reminds me Of a noted authors
definition of fame.
tage eating frugal dinner of brca
and water, an admirer asked:
How would you define fame, dear
MASTER?
fully regarding patch on his trouser
knee-fame is what endesrs you to this
publishers after you're dead and all your
copyrights have run out
Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1912-12-29

declared Themselves her slaves thereafter.
The woman who did this was Mrs. Mar
Guerite Roby. who though not born in the
nited States now claims il as her coun-
Try. This queer experience Is only one OF
many she had in the course of an 5000
mile tramp recently through the mostly
cannibal aud largely uneXplored kasai
country in the lower kongo region of
Africa. with no other companion than the
natives who carried her baggage
Mrs. Roby, who is a widow, is a really
beautiful woman. and quite the last one
in the world whom you would take for
an explorer of savage lands. She is Span
tsh by birth and shows it. possessing
dark eyes and the blacklist OF hair. and a
Creamy complexion. but she lived for
some years in the United States, and was
married there, and is now an American
TO all intents and purposes. Incidentally,
she is what is known In this country as a
well plucked 'un." Size went all alone
10 explore the less known parts of kongo
land. mainly TO find out If what she read
about the atrocities reputedly practiced
there in connection with the rubber in
dustry was true. and while doing so she
Just escaped death half a dozen times.
More than once she narrowly missed
furnishing a meal for savage natives,
anu she NdQ several CLOSE Calls WIFI
Wild animals and while in the heart of
Africa. with no one near but her native
carriers. she came within an ace of dying
OF black water fever. from the effects OF
which she has not yet wholly recovered
Luckily for herself Mrs. Roby knows
quite lot about the doctoring business.
Her first husband was a Philadelphia
physician. and she herself studied medi-
cine with her second husband. who was
a New York man. and this knowledge not
only kept her from succumbing to disease
while on her African travels. but also
helped her to gain the regard Of several
native chiefs, whose Intentions previously
had not been benevolent While on her
long tramp. this plucky woman wore
male dress, and slept every night with
loaded revolver under her pillow. but
when she received the writer, tho other
day at q London hotel. she was wearing
IA green Japanese kimono, embroidered
with scarlet. which became her dark
beauty to perfection. A guess would put
her age At forty-two or three and she
Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1912-12-29

having a food supply for several months,
as he had contracted, there was only
enough for few weeks. So she had to
dismiss most of her native bearers ana
get on as best she could. On arriving at
Lake NyanZa, she found there was still
the kasai, or Lower kongo. uncovered
and in January last she started at Bona
on the west coast of Africa and took a
southeasterly course down to Elizabeth
vile This time she took charge OF the
expedition herself, her native carriers av-
eraging twenty-five or thirty in number.
II travelled from rubber post to
being often absolutely unexplored. and
my path frequently lying through the
villages OF cannihal tribes. At every post
j had to get fresh escort. as the natives
spoke entirely different languages. So
different, indeed, are these dialects that
the traders have invented a sort of Is
peranto, which they use in buying the
rubber. l had one boy with me- how
ever who knew the languages of all the
tribes I passed through. and acted as
interpreter.
!. :.
"In many Of the villages the people
never had seen a white woman before,
and when l arrived they would crowd
around me, examine my dress. pat my
hands and stroke my hair, which 1 wore
in a plat down my back. I had to do
this. by the way. because my boys would
steal my pins. ! arrived In Elizabeth
VILE with exactly three pins left. When
we halted for the night. the natives
would amuse themselves-and me much
more-by doing up their hair in all sorts
Of fantastic ways with my pins.
1.-THE respons bility Of the food supply
rested mostly on me. Sometimes 1 would
give the head boy some salt or beads
with which to get food from the natives,
but occasionally I had to take out my
gun and shoot their supper. AS rule.
though. l hadn't to go more than thirty
or forty yards to come upon game of
some sort.
Speaking Of food reminds me of once
when an unsavory dish was offered me
in the shape OF black mans leg! I
n arly made food for the natives myself
midway between two villages when my
carriers bolted. leaving me with only my
interpreter. It appeared that the village
we were making for was inhabited by the
Bashelele, whose chief had a habit OF
either eating or making slaves Of all
other natives who had the temerity to
approach his territory. 1 went on 4 lit
saw the ruffian coming toward me. AS
he approached, I pretended not to see
him, but ga 5ed up into the sky watching
apparently some birds lowering not far
off
Then I picked up my gun and fired at
them and the birds began dropping down
all around. This impressed the cannibal.
as / had hoped 1t would, and he became
most friendly. 1 asked him for food for
my followers and myself, which he
promised me at onca and said he had
some very special meat for me. In q
Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1912-12-29
7arr Canbal Chiefs Accepted r@om of This American WON

when i was delirious, ] tried to throw
myself into the fire. and my boy had tn
tie me to my chair. But the worst time
] had was the attack of back-watcr
my journey. We We're right out in the
bush. and | had no one to look after me
] got gradually worse, and July my
temperature was LOG.
*
Here Mrs. Roby crossed the room and
fetched "A small morocco-bound diary. She
opened it at July =, and showed some
pretty shaky writing. July 6. Struggling ali
across the page in very faint pencil, were
the words. "Kycmbe Makula. Temp. 1os2
to July g. the following day. is. IL any
thing, more eloquent still. for IT is
blank.
Il was unconscious all that day. "sa 81
Mrs. Roby, but gradually got little
better after. 1 was frishtfully weak. or
course. and my boys had to carry me In
"a chair for long way. | managed To
limp into Eliza bethville at the end Of my
journey, with a temperature of over 100.
and lay there very Ill for many days In
fact, | haven't quite recovered from that
attack yet.
THE whole return trip took me nine
months. and toward the end of IL I made
several wide detours because l heard that
the natives had rebelled and were being
cruelty massacred. ! found them in re
volt, it is true but they were fighting
among themselves. and j saw no stngls
instance of cruelty or oppression all the
way. certain amount of starvation
there must always he In these hot coun-
tries The rains fail, there are no crops
and they starve; but then they do that Ia
India. too. But as general rule
found the natives happy. prosperous and
contented. Quite often 1 found them
dancing. and oppressed people don't
dance"
Copyright. 1912. 10y Curtis Brown
Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1912-12-29

her out of several tight places. Near a
village named Salata, in the depths of
Kongoland, she suddenly beheld hundreds
of natives fully armed rushing towaru
her Her followers for once kept their
cine lady!'' and the natives became less
threatening. Then the chief advanced.
showing a terribly swollen face. and
asked II she would cure him. Mrs. Roby
peered into the depths OF the blacks
mouth and found there a gumboil, which
she skillfully lanced. and the chief Inn
mediately became all smiles. At another
village an liberated knee was presented
To her by its owner. who was scornfuiiy
skeptic of her powers, but she proved
quite equal to the occasion and healed
it for him.
my fame as a doctor spread before me
from village to village" she said, "and
Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1912-12-29

barking furiously at him. 1 asked why
he had singled that one man out. as at
that time l could not see any difference
between him and his companions.
Hes Babunda,' said the official,
and eats dog Pointing to the terrier.
he added: He knew
"One of the most exciting adventures
! had was with herd of buffalo. We
were marching along grassy country and
] espied In the distance knot of natives
who were carrying balnboos for building
il rubber post standing ali huddled mp
with fear, and almost Immediately after
my boys i'm front followed their example
and squatted on the ground in a heap
on the luggage.
and they showed ME a fine herd OF be-
tween sixty and seventy buffalo about
800 yards away. fired into them,
Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1912-12-29

boundary of washington 10
Bladensburg, Hyattsville and beyond. The
number is large. The country bordering
the old post road is being fast settled
and built on. The foot and wagon traf-
fic is heavy and an electric car jolts to
and fro over this historic way. But or
the stream Of humankind that flows here
not one man in thousand crosses the
fields that lead to the crest of the ridge
on the southeast side of the road ana
over the northeast end of which the DIS
trict line runs. This is un1oTluhats' Ne
cause from this height may be mad one
of the finest broadcast prospects IN the
environs Of Washington.
The National Training School for Boys
occupies the southwest end or the rlose
which rises from the vale through when
Hickey run flows, gains an elevation OF
2lS feet, and mile and three-quarters
to the northeast drops down into the
stream with jungle SIDES that runs
through the duel ground of Bladensburg
From the Bladensburg road the ridge
rises for a quarter Of mile to the
crest. Then one comes to a stretch OF
high land marked by undulating fields
and thick woods broken by some rolling
hills and deep and wild ravines. The
ridge then drops sharply to the marsh
land bordering the Eastern branch.
Across the ridge from the BladensDurS
road to the river the distance is about
one and a half miles.
X x
On this ridge are the remains of Fort
Lincoln, Battery Jameson and lines of
infantry parapet as well defined as one
could expect after the lapse of half
century. These relic earthworks begin
at the north fence of the Industrial
School and end half a mile northeastWard
ON the slope of the ridge and in the gar
dens of the old Veitch homestead.
standing but abandoned and superseded
by a newer house in which members or
this old District Maryland family are
still living.
When the civil war came on this large
Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1912-12-29
Concerning Cigar Bands.

tTHERE is a lot of affectation about
/ men in the matter of cigar bands,
said a cigar stand keeper. as he watched
The Star man disdainfully pluck a or1i-
liant band from a five-cent cigar and
proudly cast 1.-THE band-from him.
Nearly every man who buys cigar
from me says just what you say. that he
is tired of the Internal cigar band nui-
sance. that he wishes the dealers or the
makers would leave off putting. ,em on.
that the poorer the cigar the richer the
gations-I got those words from col
lege professor who buys stogies here.
Some fellows tear the band off and throw
it away, some remove it carefully ana
put it in their pocketbook or vest pocket,
and others leave it on the cigar and push
it down toward the butt end as the cigar
burns shorter. But they all say "A bas
the bandit got that from an opera
singer who gets $500 a night and buys a
pack Of cigarettes from me every time
he comes to town.
Men verbally berate the band, but,
financially speaking, they insist on the
Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1912-12-29

1882, Joseph Finney Of Pittsburgh. who
had been experimenting with an over
head conductor. successfully operated
a car. The first electric railway to do
business in the United States, accord
ing to late issue of the Journal Of
American History, was two-mile line
between Baltimore and Hampden, Md,
which was put in operation September
/, 1885. The current was supplied from
a third rail midway between the track
rails In 1886 an electric line four and
a half miles long went into operation
at Scranton. Pa, and since then-why.
only expert statisticians are able to
keep track Of the increaie in electric
railway mileage.
Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1912-12-29

ket space, when there were no very tall
buildings no automobiles and no all
night lunch houses, and so many otner
things to which we have become SO ac-
customed that they sometimes seem to
have been always with us.
When you enter this car you note that
it is only half as large, or a fourth as
large, as the average run OF the heaVy
and noisy cars on the main lines. There
are only six windows on each side or
this little car, and a low bench or SIDE
seat runs along each side of the car.
This seat is covered with red carpet.
That looks old-fashioned and homelike.
But you note also that a group OF incan-
descent lamps glow in the low ceiling or
the car that electric push buttons are
in the window frames and that the
usual electric traction devices are on the
platforms.
Finally your glance hits an opening in
the middle of each door. In this opening
works a brass slide. All, you have 1t;
Through that opening in cold or
in rainy weather you would hand quar-
ter to the driver, and putting your lips
close to the opening, would say, Tickets
or Change" The driver would open a
long tin box attached either to the dash
of the car or to his belt and would pass
back to you through the opening little
envelope on which was printed either
Tickets or ''25 Cents You would
tear the end off the little envelope and.
taking out ticket a nickel, would
drop 1t in a tall box of wood and glass
on the right-hand side of the door. The
driver-from the outside, of course-would
look into the box, and seeing that you
had deposited your fare would pull a
string and the nickel or the ticket would
drop out of sight into the base of the box.
l. %lnt h
one of the old horse cars. Having the
ticket slot in the door at both ends
Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1912-12-29
The BARRIERS Dog. F"

ttD Ass me a little dog" He said II
in an undertone and spoke IL COLI
fidentially to "A confrere, which is fine
language for fellow-worker. The men
wore white Jackets and the place where
these words We're spoken was white with
polished marble and glittering with MIR
rors. One of the white acketed men held
a razor and the other a pair of shears
and a comb. The man who almost whis-
pered Pass me little dog held razor.
The men We're BARRIERS.
The man who overheard the words
pass me "A little dog was lying well
down in a reclining chair that was up
holstered i'm crimson velveteen and over
laid with furnished nickel white sheet
enveloped him aud the folded edge OF Il
towel was stuffed inside his collar band
almost to the strangulation point. This
man was customer who was being
shaved. This was the man on whom the
dog was to be tried.
Evidently the little dog was passed and
the customer felt "A sharp bite on the ear.
That's one of the secrets of the bar
ber's trade. profession. art that yol
haven't caught on to yet. All the dog is
not used i'm the dairy lunches. We use
dog I'm barber shops. OF course. II is now
time to tell you that this dog Is not the
kind the poundmaster catches i'm nets or
that gentle ladies fond'e in their laps.
It's different kind of dog. Doctors call
it styptic. but BARRIERS call It dog.
Il nicked your ear a moment ago. I
asked the man at the next chair for a
little dog. and one bite OF it stopped the
red trickle from that nick
x
CROSSING Florida avenue at 18th
~ street and beginning the ascent Of
the steep hill which traffic avoids. YOU
Will see great tree, one of the old Bel
mont oaks, growing close to the brick
t.s
on Belmont street a street that not long
ago was cut through from 18th to 18th.
The trouble which the preservation or
this tree cost the builders of that row
speaks well for their sympathy for and
appreciation of a tree.
The houses are three story and base
ment and a two-story back porch rallied
and rooted runs along their rear In or
binary building operations this tree would
have been chopped down and its stump
grubbed out as an obstruction to prog
ress. but ii was allowed to live. Tho
north bark of its trunk is within few
inches of the bricks of the south wall OF
the third house in the row. The trunk is
about three feet i'm diameter and as tall
as the top of the house. The crown
grows as high again and it's big. strong
branches spread themselves over tho
roofs of three of the houses and over IN
alley that runs between Florida avenue
and Belmont street
The diameter of the tree is nearly as
great as the porch is wide and to accom-
modate the tree the porch was stopped at
one side of the tree and its building re-
sumed on the other side Ii is an unusual
spectacle and many persons passing that
way have their attention arrested by il.
This tree is one of the grove of oaks
that stood i'm the big tract between tie
boundary and Clifton street. 18th and
18th streets. About dozen of these oaks
are still growing in that tract on the
Clifton street side.
Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1912-12-29

shows that it was Of later period than
the bob-tailed car with the rounded dash
in front and the funny little step behind
the car that was turned round on turn
table at the end of the route. Still you
know that that old car has made many
trips in this town. You fall to wonder
ing how many times you may have rid
den in that car before you took on SO
hair. or lost so much hair. and when
your step was nimbler and more elastic.
You fall into conversation with the con-
ductor and the motorman. That old car
has often been a subject Of speculation
with them. but they have not been able
to identify it. One believes that it was
belt line car, and the other believes
that 1t was an Anacostia car when the
late H. A. Griswold and Beach Pitcher
were the transportation magnates of the
1t is a December night and You feel
that the picture is not complete. The
coal oil lamps that used to burn in the
corner Of the car. perhaps only In one
corner. are not there. The straps that
hung from the bell-rope down the middle
Of the car are not there. No straw is
on the floor. You do not hear the Jingle
Of bell at the collar of a horse and
you miss the solemn beat Of horseshoes
on the cobbles.
You are also apt to think Of how
rapidly electric traction has progressed
You may be able to recall that it was
in 1880 that Edison, at the expense of
Henry Willard, installed at MenlO Park
the first dynamo electric railway in
America on a track that was about
eighty rods long. and that Stephen d.
Field of San Francisco exhibited an
electric locomotive in June, 1888, at the
exposition Of railway appliances in Chi
cago. In these experiments the current
was carried by the rails Of the track.
In Allegheny, Pa. in the summer of
Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1912-12-29

the natives began to look upon me as
kind of amateur Providence, able to set
tie all of their difficulties for them of
whatever kind. Thus in the village of
Djokapunda L found war impending, the
chief of the tribe who inhabited it, and
who practiced cannbalism off and Oh,
having stolen woman from a neighbor-
ing village. Arriving at this critical mo-
ment, / advised them both to submit To
arbitration. They agreed and appointed
me arbitrator. / heard tho arguments OH
both sides and then decided that the
woman should be returned, with three