Evening public ledger. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1914-1942, 1914-09-28

| TT HAPPENED long ago, so there can be no
| l. good reason why this story should not
! be told. although II concerns an esteemed
contemporary. It's owner established an
American daily in London and promptly en-
gagged nine English journalists and one Ameri-
can reporter named Haverley. Then Lon
don was placarded from end to end with a
request that Britain buy next Sundays
issue" in which could be read beautifully
illustrated and well-wrtten description OF
Historic Hampstead Heath The pictures
were in the office and an English journalist
sent forth to get the reading matter
with instructions to report not later than
Friday. Friday noon came and no journalist
Evening came and no sign of the missing
genius. Then the editor called on Haverey
with instructions to set the desired matter,
IL he had to die for it-after he was success
full, of course.
Now. Haverley knew as much of Hamp.
stead Heath as a cat does of the calculus,
but he was an American. So he hed himself
to Hampstead Heath, where he found the
Three Spaniards, an inn owned by the same
family for 300 years. To the proprietor he
told his troubles.
II can help YOU" said the innkeeper. MY
grandfather, father and myself have kept
scrapbook of everything written about the
Eath-most of it is by Thackeray, Scott.
Dickens and George Augustus Henry Sala."
Haverley swore by all that was holy to
return the book, and departed in triumph.
At home, knowing the need OF speed, he
scssored and clipped the precious pages
right and left, wrote an introduction and
rushed it TO the composing room, where 1t
was put into type.
The Wednesday after this concoction, the
mental emanations Of Dickens, Scott Thack-
cray and Sala, had seen the light of day, the
managing editor of the London daily received
a letter from the proprietor in Paris, reading:
"Pease congratulate the gentleman who
wrote the story Of Hampstead Heath, It
vas a masterpiece Of English"
THE proprietor of a Chinese restaurant In
i Race street bought a phonograph not long
ago and with il a dozen records of Chinese
music. Then he tried it on his patrons. From
the horn issued conglomeration of cacoph-
ony beyond the power of mere words to
describe Shrill trebles male falsettos pre-
dominated, punctuated by speaky tenors. In
terspersed was the din OF tom-toms and the
plunk "a plunk of celestial banjos It was a
sextet, the proud owner averred, but not
from Lucia"
For full minute the noise continued; then
10 assumed tdnBlDle shape OF
the topsy- turvy character of the Chinese.
Throughout was a lett motif, repeated and
reiterated time and again. Then came
crescendo, tremendous In it's sharp shrill-
ness, accentuated by hysteric beating OF
drums and humping of stringed instruments
Of torture Then followed a dismal wall,
more haunting than that OF the banshee, and
the sextet was a thing OF musical memory.
A PAIR of stout pajamas saved Sir John
"a Jellicoe. commando der-in- chief of Britain's
navy, from damp and watery grave. In
June 1898, when still a mere commander,
Jellicoe lay desperately i'll from fever in his
bunk aboard the battleship Victoria when
she was rammed by the Camperdown, The
alarm was given and Jelllcoe rushed to the
bridge. though delrious. a moment later
with the sailors standing in proud line, as
befts seamen singing their national anthem,
the great ship gave a heave and plunged into
the depths off Tripoli, Jelicoe was drawn
down by the suction and would have been
drowned but for the presence OF mind of an
unknown hero. Seeing an expanse Of
paiamas going down into the waves the un-
known made a wild grasp, managed 10 get
a hold and swan toward the resCuing boats
not knowing whom he had saved. That is
why JelfLcoe lives to have this tale told about
him,