davidaulloa/AmericanStories huggingface dataset:
The Ozark spectator., 1916-09-13

bird, and these fellows I was after were about the pick of the aviary What if they were playing Peters game?
 A fool tries to look different; clev- CT man looks the same and is different.
 It was now getting on for s o'clock. and went back and saw Scaife to give him his instructions. l arranged with him how to place his men, and then I went for d walk, for didn't feel up to any dinner I went round the de- serted golf course and then to a point on the cliffs farther north, beyond the line of the villas.
 On the little, trim, newly made roads l met people in tlannels coming back from tennis and the beach, and coast guard from the wireless station. and donkeys and pierrots padding homeward Out at sea, in the blue dusk. l saw lights appear on the Ariad- ne and on the destroyer away to the south and beyond the Cock sands the bigger lights of steamers making for the Thames.
 The whole scene was so peaceful and ordinary that l got more dashed in spirits every second. It took all my resolution to stroll toward Trafalgar lodge about half past g.
 Scaife's men would be posted now but there was no sign of soul
 The house stood as open as q market place for anybody to observe. A three foot railing separated it from the cliff road The windows on the ground floor were all open, and shaded lights and the low sound of voices revealed where the occupants were finishing dinner. Everything was as public and aboveboard as charity bazaar
 Feeling the greatest fool on earth, opened the gate and rang the bell.
 A man of my sort who has travelled about the world in rough places gets on perfectly well with two classes what you may esll the upper and the lower. He understands them, and they understand him. 1 was at home with herds and tramps and roadmen, and was sufficiently at my ease with people like Sir Walter and the men had met the night before.
 cant explain why, but it is fact But what fellows like me don't under stand is the great. comfortable. satis- fled middle class world, the folk that live in villas and suburbs. He doesn't know how they book at things, he doesn't understand their conventions, and he is as shy of them as of black mamba.
 When trim parlor maid opened the door l could hardly find my voice.
 asked for Mir. Appleton and was ushered in. My plan had been to walk straight into the dining room and by sudden appearance wake in the men that start of recognition which would confirm my theory.
 But when I found myself in that neat hall the place mastered me.
 (to be continued)
The Ozark spectator., 1916-09-13


 squadron from the white ensign. So Scaife and I went down to the harbor and hired boatman for an afternoons $ fishing.
 I spent a warm and peaceful after noon We caught between us about twenty pounds of cod and lythe, and out in that dancing blue sea l tesk a cheerier view of things.
 Above the white cliffs of the Ruff l saw the green and red of the villas, and especially the great tiagstaff of Trafalgar lodge. About f o'clock, when We had fished enough, made the boat man row us round the yacht, which lay like a delicate white bird ready at moment to flee. Scaife said she must be d fast boat from her build and that she was pretty heavily en- gtned
 Her name was the Ariadne, as l discovered from the cap of one of the men who was polishing brasswork.
 spoke to him and got an answer in the soft dialect of Essex. Another hand that came along passed me the time of day in an unmistakable Eng lish tongue, Our boatman had an ar
The Ozark spectator., 1916-09-13

I heard his very words I've got into a proper lather," he said This will bring down my weight and my handicap, Bob I'll take you on tomor- row and give you a stroke a hoie."
 You couldn't find anything much more English than that
 They all went into the house and left me feeling a precious idiot. l had been barking up the wrong tree this time These men might be acting, but if they were where was their audience? They didn't know I was sitting thirty yards off in rhododendron. It was simply impossible to believe that these three hearty fellows were anything but what they seemed-three ordinary, game playing. suburban Englishmen. weari- some if you like. but sordidly inno- cent.
 And yet there were three of them. and one was old and one was plump. and one was lean and dark, and their house chimed in with Scudders notes, and half mile off was lying q steam yacht with at least one German officer
 thought of Karolides lying dead and all Europe trembling on the edge of an earthquake, and the men l had left behind me in London who were wait Ing anxiously for the events of the next hours. There was no doubt that mischief was afoot somewhere.
 The Black Stone had won and if 1t survived this June night would bank its winnings
 There seemed only one thing to do go forward as if l had no doubts and, if l was going to make a fool of my self, to do it handsomely. Never in my life have l faced job with great CT diSinclination.
 would rather, as my mind was then. have walked into den of anarchists, each with his Browning handy. or faced q charging lion with a popgun than enter the happy home of three cheerful Englishmen and tell them that their game was up. How they would laugh at me.
 But suddenly 1 remembered thing l once heard in RhodeSia from old Pe-
 
 ready i'll this narrative He was the best scout 1 ever knew, and before he had turned respectable he had been pretty often on the windy side of the law-when he had been wanted badly by the authorities.
 Peter once discussed with me the question of disguises. and he had h icI,
 He said. barring absolute certaintieS like finger prints, mere physical traits were very little use for identification if the fugitive really knew his busi- ness He laughed at things like dyed hair and false boards and such child ish follieS
 The only thing that mattered was what Peter called 'ammosphere. If d man could get into perfectly differ ent surroundings from those in which he had been first observed and-this is the important part-really play up to these surroundings and behave as if he had never been out of them he would puzzle the cleverest detectives.
 And he used to tell d story of how he once borrowed black coat and went to church and shared the same hymn book with the man that was looking for him. If that man had seen him in decent company before he would have recognized him. but he had only seen him suutfing the lights in public house with a revolver.
 The recollection of Peters talk gave me the first real comfort had had that d24 Peter had been q wise old
The Ozark spectator., 1916-09-13
(tO be continued)

G. s. Muchmore left yester- day for Magazine for a short visit with John Watson and family.
 A. T. Powell is in Magazine this week on business. Will re- turn the latter part of the week.
 Four good milch cows for sale. Z. c. Savelle, 2 miles west of Ozark.
The Ozark spectator., 1916-09-13

After spending some time in St. Louis studying the latest styles in hats, a very careful selection was made, and we are now ready to show a very beau tiful line of hats. K kathryne B. Hail's Millinery Shop, next door to postoffice.
The Ozark spectator., 1916-09-13

kathryne B. Halls New Fall Hats are arriving. Call and see the latest models. Everything new and up-to-date. Prices reasonable.
 Mrs. H. B. Self was called away Friday to be with her father who is very ill at his home in Tom Bean, Texas.
 Money to lend On improved farms. Easy term s. s.-L. M :, Guthrie, Ozark, Ark (adv)
The Ozark spectator., 1916-09-13

Miss Elgin Milton. of White Oak, returned yes erday from a short visjt WIth friends and rela- lives in Folt Sul.th.
The Ozark spectator., 1916-09-13
CHAPTER XIV.

Various Parties ConVergin9 on the Sea. A PINK and blue June morning ~ found me at Bradgate looking A from the Griffin hotel over a
 smooth sea to the lightship on
New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1916-11-12

Accounting" and "John Reilly" You
point out diffidently that it's a little
late, that if he would only sing one or
two Encouraged silently by his wife,
Abner suddenly mods assent and de-
livers his favorite ballad, peggy
Walker" so thunderously that even
Aunt Polly must hear him.
There was a jolly farmer who lived
neighbor nigh,
He had but one fair daughter, upon her
cast my eye.
asked her if she'd be willing for me TO
cross the plain,
And if she would be true to me till return
again.
She said she would be true to me until
death did decline,
Then | shook hands and parted with the girl
left behind.
set my boat for Iceland, strange people
might see,
met Miss Peggy Walker, she fell in love
with me.
quit my work one evening, went walking
up the street,
The stage was just returning and a post
boy did meet.
He handed me letter that might under
stand,
The girl ! left behind me had gone with an
other man.
Whilst | stood there lamenting he said,
Poor boy, don't cry.
For ! have money a-plenty to serve both
you and L.
Abner isn't sure of the words, and
Aunt Polly would probably render the
tune differently, but at least your col
lection is started. You are little Gu
rious as to where these local ballads got
"Tceland and the sea- but your critical
consideration is interrupted by Abner,
New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1916-11-12

up the Branch, ten or fifteen miles by
horseback. The great authority is one
Abner Boggs, who even went so far as
to take singing lessons, ten for SO; the
harvesting interfered, so he got through
only four; else, as his neighbors put 1t,
he might have been great singer.
When you finally get to Abner BoggS
it will probably be time for supper,
which, Miss Wyman informs us, it is
best for an unhardened alien to forego.
Of course, you don't go right up and
knock at the door; the law of self-pres
ervation makes the rules of etiquette in
Harlan County, and you must stand
about a block away from Mr.. Boggs'S
hearth to "holler halloo." After the
master of the log cabin estate peers cut
to ascertain your business, he may UNI
bolt the door.
To most any one except revenue Off
Ger the mountaineers are cordial, espe-
claIy as TURNER'S often Drlng strange
gossip of the big cities. Abner will even
invite you to partake, but it isn't sup
pers, at least of the local variety, that
YOU are interested in. 1t is the ballads
you are after, and you modestly suggest
that he sing one of them.
ooh, the lonesome tunes, you meant!
and his lean, hardened face lights up
with surprised understanding. He pro-
tests that he doesn't know many OF
them, and, you remember he never fin
ished those ten singing lessons. But his
Aunt Polly, who lives only fifteen miles
vonder-Abner was there once seven
years ago-knows them all, "The Street.
heart IN the army" "The Frog Went
New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1916-11-12

who shouts out "The Little MOhee," a
ballad still popular even with the young
folks:
As went a-walking all by the seashore,
The wind it did whistle, the water did roar.
As | sat amusing myself on the grass,
Oh, who did spy but young Indian lass.
She came and sat by me, took hold of my
hand,
And said you're stranger and ina strange
land.
Near the end Abner's tall sons join in
to record in deep tones the fact that the
hero finally went back to spend his days
with the Little Mohee. Where did these
Harlan County people learn about the
whistling of the wind and the roaring
of the sea? And you recall in Vol
ume / of Percy's Reliques the story OF
BRYAN and Pereene, of the young Eng
lish chap falling in love with the Indian
maiden. 1t has persisted in Harlan,
Ky., as "The Little Mohee.' Abner's
neighbors below it as they plough their
little plots, and the old women (the
women are old at thirty here) sing it
evenings before the fire.
Most of the young folks don't care
much about the old ballads, though one
or two girls of sixteen or seventeen are
treasures OF antique song. They shout
with more enthusiasm than meditation
a tune very near to their hearts, and
Jig refrain which is their finest dance
music:
THE OLD MAIDS SONG
had a sister Sally that was younger than
! am,
She had so many suitors she had TO deny
them,
But as for my own part never had many,
If you all knew my heart I'd be thankful
for any.
New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1916-11-12

Copyright 1915 The II. W. Gray Co
REFRAIN
Come landsman, a pinsman, tinker or
tailor,
A fiddler, ploughboy, dancer or sailor,
A gentleman, or a poor man, fool or
witty,
Don't you let me die an old maid, but take
me out of pity.
had sister Susan that was ugly and i'll
shapen,
Before she was eighteen years old she was
taken,
Before she was eighteen, son and daugh-
ter,
But here I'm six and forty and never had an
offer.
never will be scolding and l never will be
jealous,
NY husband shall have money to go to the
aehouse,
And while he's there spending will be
home saving,
And leave it to the world if Pm not worth
the having.
Sometimes an especially original
moonshine minstrel makes collecting
difficult. There was one melodious
young rustic who hummed rare old
English tune, and never sang it twice
the same way. If the lonesome folk
get to like you they will think up the
songs they've almost forgotten and
throw in improvements gratis. The
ivory comb mentioned in "Sweet
William and Lady Margaret becomes
in Harlan County 'lively comb, which
is the nearest thing they have ever seen
to the more expensive article mentioned
in the original. In "John Reilly,' hav-
ing forgotten the place in the old coun-
try whence John Reilly had immigrated
forever, they make "over in Pennsyl-
vania" his eternal abode.
New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1916-11-12

~ Ih y III lleRI lSRAA NONAANSi ~ - WY
IL seldom get hold Of any popular
IL music, and they never read free
rorse. there aren't any weekly pa
ners and what literature they want has
70 no made right on the premises. But
Efe in the moonshine country, on these
isolated hillside homesteads, leaves folk
too tired to spend their evenings on Gre
alive art. After trying to hoe a living
ont Of q few rocky acres these tall, tacl-
turn mountaineers don't sit down with
pen in hand to turn out poems and mu-
sic. Instead. during the evening they
lounge around in their huts, the older
generation at least. and try to remem-
her the old ballads their grandfathers
brought over from England and Ireland.
They can't remember them well
snv more: the words are bound to get
mutilated in three generations of tran
ST. and the tunes change from month to
month. and from mouth to mouth. But
if YOU are keen and reminiscent enough
YOU will detect in these Kentucky folk
songs ballads that you once saw in
Scots Border Minstrelsy," and will
find Harlan County and envirOns to be
the preservers of a great tradition. IN
these DAYS of scrambled rhythms, when
we thrill to Richard Strauss and read
books on Imagism, one might suspect
that the only place to find ballads was IN
Percys Reliques, and that the prlml-
tive fighting folk who sang them have
for centuries lain in their graves on the
Scottish border. The old border min
strels are indeed dead, and their de-
scendants in Harlan County have little
time for minstrelsy, but though they
know nothing of the beginnings OF
poetry they are experts in preserv-
ing it.
Last year Miss Lorraine Wyman and
Mr.. Howard Brockway, who had Tor
some years been presenting the ancient
folk songs of France, heard about these
Kentucky ballads, and departed post
haste to collect them from the natives.
Garnering primitive music isn't the
facile expedition that it sounds. lhey
don't crowd around you in Harlan Coun-
ty to tell you that they have some bal
lads that can be duplicated in Percy S
Relioues. They don't care, like the mod
est minnesingers of the East, to break
into the anthologies. Instead, they are
a bit suspicious of "furriners" from over
the mountains who whimsically insist
on their singing the lonesome tunes.
That they have an important literary
treasure they don't suspect, and they
would be embarrassed to find them
selves talked about in an article on
folk poetry" If the good Bishop Percy
himself had come to take down from
their lips ballads for his famous collec-
ton. they would have suspected him as
their arch enemy, Federal revenue OIL
Ger on the hunt for stills. Had ne
assured them that he was merely anX-
ious to preserve the Lonesome tunes,
they would have given him a cordial re-
ception, as they did Miss Wyman and
Mr.. Brockway, although they would
have thought him a little bit queer.
The good Bishop Percy would have
had rough time of it, too. Not every
one in Harlan County knows the tunes,
and the real connoisseurs sometimes live
New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1916-11-12


lines and give Appalachian flavor to
ballads that may have originated in
Northumberland, the themes and the
tragedies are always the same. The
faithful and the faithless lover, the poor
but honest lad, the fair maid. and the
strong man. live in the lonesome tunes.
just as when they were sung in Merrle
England or on the Scottish border. And
on the cold nights in the remote Ken
lucky cabins glow the old tales in
music, that for us in the cities lie hidden
in the three dusty volumes of Percy's
Reliques. Probably it was only last
night that Abner Boggs was singing. as
well as he could considering the number
of lessons he had had:
Chicken Growing on Sourwood Mountain,
Hey do diddle dunn day,
Get your dogs and well go a-hunting,
Hey do diddle dun day.
My true love lives in Letcher,
Hey do diddle dun day,
She won't come and won't fetch her,
Hey do diddle dunn day.
My true loves blue eyed daisy,
Hey do diddle dunn day,
II don't see her I'll go crazy,
Hey do diddle dunn day.
Or that rousing ballad of the moon
shine country:
Whet up your knife and whistle your dog,
We're going through the hills TO hunt a
ground hog.
Too many rocks, too many logs,
Too many rocks to hunt ground hogs.
Over the hills and through the brush,
There we struck that ground hog fresh.
Up came Berry with ten-foot pole,
And reused it in that ground hog hofo.
UP came Kate and stood right there,
Till Berry twisted out some ground hog
hair.
Kate and Berry came pricing about,
At last they got that ground hog out
Took him by the tail and wagged him 70
log,
And swore, by grab, it's pretty fine hog.
Work, boys, work, as hard as you can tear,
The meat1l do to eat, and the hide1l do to
wear.
Work, boys, work, for all you'll earn,
Skin him after night, and tan him in
They put him in pot, and the children
began TO smile,
They ate that ground hog before it struck
boil.
Up stepped Susie with Singer and grin,
Ground hog grease all over her chin.
Abner and his neighbor don't know
anything about new movements in art,
nor do they realize how desperately
our cultured cOteries try to get at the
very heart of poetry. But their inglor-
ious Millions have made out Of ancient
English poetry their unique Kentucky
music. The jig refrains are their sub
stitute for symphonies, while their
mountain favored phrases make the
only epics they can know. And if too
much Imagism and Stravinsky are a
WEAKNESS of the flesh, try these Harlan
County ballads over on your piano as
Abner and his friends sing them when
they are ploughing their rocky little
farms. But don't below them as
Justify as these Kentucky natives whose
nearest neighbors live fifteen miles up
the Branch. For the "furriners" who
live next door don't want the naive folk
songs Of the Great White Way disturbed
by the fresh lyrics of the lonesome
tunes"
New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1916-11-12

The Words collected by
Lorraine WYMAN
The Birmingham age-herald., 1916-06-02

before Port Arthur. From the begin ming of the present war up until last fall he was at the Russian front and saw nearly every one of the stu pendous engagements of the eastern theatre of the war. Yet the battlefield of verdun is the thing that amazes Mr. Washburn beyond all measure. In an unconventional letter to a friend he says:
 Had a most entertaining time in the Argonne in a front line trench 30 paces from the Germans. I judiciously evacuated the trench three minutes be- fore they attacked it with hand gren- ades From a rear trench I watched them throw bombs into the one I just left, which was very inspiriting. Then I went back to a regimental H. c. S. and sat in a bomb proof and listened to about 1901 shells burst in the neigh borhood. Next day I went to Verdun which is an extraordinary place. I've never seen so many shells in my life. I spent five hours in the town with everything up to 3S c's dropping at about the rate of one every two min utes. I was deeply impressed. These big ones arrive with sound like the Twentieth Century limited passing an open box car at 100 miles an hour and burst with noise like the end of the
The Birmingham age-herald., 1916-06-02

of political and speculative effort in the municipal light (gas) business and losses amounting to millions of dollars in revenue and operating expenses, along with practically the total loss of the plant, had to give up the ghost and turn their political hobby over to a business organiza tion, a private cor poration.
 As we with such concrete example of municipal mismanagement before us going to do in the year 1916 what Philadelphia did in the year 1S41, re- gretted for 56 years and corrected in the year 1897, by turning the municipal business CD over to private company?
 l. P. M'CUSKER.
 Birmingham, Alabama, May 20, 1916. No. 1926 South Twelfth street.
The Birmingham age-herald., 1916-06-02

Striped stoc<ings-are they confined to New York women-that is to say, are they wearing them in Birmingham nowadays?'S
The Birmingham age-herald., 1916-06-02
NEW YORK STORIES
 BY A BIRMINGHAM MAN
By ALIEN GRIFFIN JOHNSON

New York, June 1.-(Special)-"No other city will ever be able to compete with New York in many ways" said John Norris, who, 15 years ago, was a resident of Montgomery, and has since then visited Birmingham twice. But on the other hand" he added, some of our southern cities have features that the metropolis will never have"
 Two years ago I was in Birmingham three days. During that time I visited the South Highlands-M Manhattan will never know anything to compare with them, and if they could be transplanted upon this island they would De d real sensation.
 Do you know there are many people living here today who cannot even con ceive of the fact that people could live being worth at least s1 100000? Of course, Riverside drive, for instance, it would cost about as much as the average mill lionaire spends to live there.
 And yet, Birmingham's reputation as a city of beauty is not so great If I lived there, I should take all visitors I could to see the beautiful residence sec tions-more than the other features. New Workers know industries, stores business under any head, but they don't know the South Highlands or anything like them.
 We judge by conparison-here the scarcity of lawns and porches makes one say when he sees such thing: 'Beauti- ful-but it must cost fortune to own them "