davidaulloa/AmericanStories huggingface dataset:
The Birmingham age-herald., 1916-04-16

The horses were fairly good, but the sad dies were excruciating. am accustomed to riding. I cover about 15OO miles every winter in the parks about Washington city, and usually ride 10 or 15 miles every day I have an English saddle and can be on horse for hours without tiring. It was different in this ride across Kenai Our horses were broadbacked Percherons, and the saddles were a high -pommeled variety, so made that they threw one far to, the front. It was like sitting on a sawbuck with ill-fitting stirrups. It brought an entire new set of muscles into play and gave me the sensations and pains of the man who takes a long ride for the first time. I found it inn possible to go off walk, and when we came to a mining camp, after 15 hours in the saddle. l was so stiff that I had to be lifted from the horse. The next day walked part of the way and had to be lifted off and on to the horse whenever l rode.
 During the journey we thought we were lost. The guide failed to turn up as ex- pected. and when he did so he took us along the sides of cliffs, over trail where the forest fires had made it exceedingly dangerous, and where we had to jump tHc ioSS III tne udrkneSS, With no tell Ing what might be on the opposite side. l slept the clock round after reaching Sunrise, and am now translatng the notes l made on horseback during the trip.
 I despair of making you see the won derful beauties of this peninsula The trip was through one little valley after another, with the grandest of mountains everywhere in sight The valleys are from half a mile to three miles in width and are like great natural parks. They are often covered with woods, but the forest fires have cleared open spaces, and 1t is easy to see that the whole could be turned into farms. In going through the valley I wound my way along rushing streams, in which grea red salmon were battling against the cur rent, making their way over the rocks and through debris of dead trees and ticating brushwood. These salmon were the color of beefsteak, and they looked like streaks of raw meat flying along through the water. The streams were of the clearest crystal and here and there they made waterfalls as they dashed down the hills.
 In other parts of the journey I skirt ed beautiful fakes so clear that the mighty mountains above them, with their wonderful vegetation and curious out lines. were reflected as though in look
The Birmingham age-herald., 1916-04-16

lowed, but as they were pulled to their feet by policemen. they looked into each others faces. and from the well dressed stranger burst forth, Well. by God. if it isn't Polite Percival."
 For an instant Pennington gazed deep into the speakers eyes. the hatred and hunger still glowing in his own,. and them
 Mike Donnelly.p But before he could say more exhaustion from the fight. and weakness from hunger. had brought unconsciousness.
 When he was revived at the police station he found that the matter or the fight had been adjusted in som. marvellous manner by Donnelly, who seemed not without power in police circles. Then came an invitation from his old classmate to dine with him at once. And it was during the demi tasse that Donnelly said
 "Perce, you must have changed won derfully since l knew you back in old M, but the change has certainly been for the better old man I sup- pose you don't know that 1 am boss of the tn ward now. Yes, I'm in pretty good over on the Eastside and by the way. I own little cafe and caparet restaurant over there that IS just needing man like you to handle it. My manager is too easy on some people who come there and I want an aggressive man to take his place. What do you say? Will you accep> the po- sition of manager and--between us--of bouncer?"
 Pennfngton's acceptance souncec strange to his own ears and yet na knew that he was not the same 7en- nington he had been but few hours earlier IT before hunger and humilia- tion put habit to rout.
 In the Eastside cafe Pennington's reputation as a manager and as a bouncer grew by leaps and bounds There were not few people will. seemed fond of trying to ''rough- house" the restaurant. and under the
 tContinued on Page six)
The Birmingham age-herald., 1916-04-16

far between, and the patches of culti- vation are kitchen gardens in size At Mile 12 I saw an abandoned log cabin and was told that it had been occupied last summer by some city chaps who had come here to hunt They had ex- pected to stay week or 10 days, but they remained mere than two months. Nevertheless, their actual cash outlay for food during that time was less than S10. They spent $5 for flour, potatoes and coffee, and the rest of their food was the fish, game and berries they found in the woods
 We stopped for a time at Renal lake and then rode along it's shores for four or five miles, The lake begins at Mile 19 and it winds about through the noun tains for length of 2 miles. It is mile or so wide, and no one knows how oeep. Soundings have been made to 135U feet below the surface and the bottom not reached. The scenery there reminds one of Switzerland. The mountains are snow-capped and high up on the sides of the green, below the snow line, you can see the trails made by the mountain sheep. The lake is as clear as crystal, and it mirrors it's surroundings.
 A little farther on is Trail lake, which I should say is eight or 10 miles in length and which, like Kenai lake, is full of salmon trout bass and grayling. The salmon-trout of Kenai are caught by the thousand and dried for dog feed. They sell for 8 cents a pound
 It was at Mile 20 that I left the rail- road and took horses to go across coun- try to Sunrise At that place is Oscar Christiansen's roadhouse. Oscar is a willy Swede who has a half dozen horses, which he rents out for all that the traffic will bear He charged me $16 day for two horses and guide, and told me that I could pick up the guide on the way. I picked him up long after dark, and we had a terrible time finding the trails.
 Before leaving I dined at the roadhouse The meal was moose meat or Alaska beef cooked over the coals by slx-foot pioneer. His kitchen stove was a range made at Hamilton, O., and in the living room adjoining were chairs and tables and a rosewood victrola with several dozen records on top. There were flowers in the windows Around the wall were spring beds. The stove of the living room was section of hydraulic pipe as big around as a flour barrel, with legs of gas pipe. It was long enough to take in whole stick of cord wood
 Leaving the roadhouse, I started out through the forest and spent the better part of two days in getting to Sunrise.
The Birmingham age-herald., 1916-04-16
Elsewhere

ammatoors went into the bzness and the puolick got wise to the fact tnat they being faked No self respecting American citizen to Hand ovver his gold filled 20yeer guaranteed 14iewel watch to ammatoor bandit and if heA,oes under the inn pression that the aledged bandit is the reel thing he is apt to get So the going begin to get ruff for the lone bandit, evvery and then feler would stick sawed off shotgun round the of the dining and abruptly terminate brte and promising banditing the spot. Also they used to have the habit of hanging bandit if he by accdinJ fell into the hands of the esteemed posse always organized to him after of his at- trossities. and hanging him without annoying the courts with the worry of trial But that has rather gone out of fashon-they air revivng it little down in Mexico.
 EnDy how, we agree with Doctor Edmunds-we be- leeve yung hoy ought to seerously consider all the circumstances before going into the bandit bizness re&ulery. As trade it is little risky, and while mite forrish for while. when he does seese to do so it is usuely verry sudden and discorraging.
 Yours trooly,
 BILL, VINES.
The Birmingham age-herald., 1916-04-16

ing glass. I wish I could have photo- graphed the colors. They made me think of the paintings of the latest German art great patches with such striking effects of light and shade.
 The valleys of the peninsula seem to be wonderfully fertile About F miles from the railway I passed through a natural park of spruce, cottonwood and birches rising out of grass which in open places reached to my shoulders. This grass was as green as that Of the Nile valley, and where the forset fires had de- stroyed the trees, it came through beds dusted with pink. Some of the fireweed is from six to eight feet in height. I have measured stalks here at Sunrise, that are nine feet from the ground to the top most flowers. l saw many berries on the way across the country. There were high and low bush cranberries of bright red, blueberries of pale lemon color. There were wild flowers of different varieties, and in places the woods were carpeted with stunted tree ferns eight or 10 inches high. In some places the forests are green, in others they are frosted silver and in others dead white The green trees are alive, and the silver and white ones are dead or dying from forest fires. The dead forests are as picturesque as the live ones. The lacelike branches of the spruce then change to an ivory whiteness and they look like exquisite carvings.
 And then the live things we saw on the journey. I already have spoken of the salmon. We could see the trout in the streams, and I am told that all are full of graylng and other fine fish. I met one man on the way who had stopped for an hour at the head of Trali lake and caught 27 trout, pulling them out as fast as he could throw the line in could have easily caught salmon and trout with my hands in the smaller streams.
 Now and then during the journey I started up covies of grouse. Some of the birds were as big as a chicken They ran along in front of my horse for hun dreds of feet like so many turkeys They did not seem to be much afraid and it was as though I were driving them saw also ptarmigan, and at a cabin at Mile IA, where I stopped for dinner, a miner cooked for me some ptarmigan he had just killed.
 Later on I saw the tracks of brown bear here and there on the trail, and
The Birmingham age-herald., 1916-04-16

selfish seasons. Now and then he was employed at a small salary, invariably losing out as a result of his extreme Self-suppression. His rides on the sub way nearly always left him with bruises, acquired by getting caught in the closing doors while, or after waiting for others to precede him. His seat was always given to the first woman who entered his coach, and he suffered continually from being forced into apparent rude ness by the force of those behind him.
 He lost many chances for work on ac- count of waiting for others to precede him in line, and was so prompt in his payment, so generous in his polite tip ebb, with no prospect of an incoming tide.
 Along Broadway or the avenue. he made little progress at any time, always getting out of the way of the other Party. He was getting frankly discour cged. His reputation for politeness, cour- tesy, and those traits admired by the fine old people of NJ did not seem to be growing rapidly in the metropolis, vet he felt that he had been true to the traditions and customs of his old town and his people. therefore he was at loss to understand the metropolitan atti- tude toward his irreproachable conduct, His ives, ma ann and yves, sir wot a laugh for him frequently. but never anything else, while his apologet;c and polite preamples to requests for informa- tion frequently occupied al, the time the man to be questioned had to give. end instead of information, he received only chagrin and embarrassment
 OffaO fO fn strange women had resulted in arousing their suspicion, and sometimes their snger. P. Pennington was beginning to grow weak in the faith. Misfortune snapped at his heels with every step, and close in his rear he could hear the wolf of starvation howiing. Finally. the luxury of hall bedroom had to be ex- changed for that Of park bench-Poiite Percival, member of one of the finest
The Birmingham age-herald., 1916-04-16

street and Sixth avenue A moment later he stood politely near the down town ticket sellers window. waiting for a long line of aggressive purchasers to buy their tickets ahead of him. Finally he placed himself in the line reached the window, stuck his head almost into it, smiled sweetly, tipped his hat, and began with, T beg your pardon. but
 How many?" asked the ticket dis penser.
 Pardon me. please, Percival resumed, but merely wanted to ask you if--''
 'Twor' beloved a hoarse voice In. Per civals rear, and hand was thrust under his nose, even as violent push in the back sent our courteous hero past the window.
 At the end of 15 minutes Percival had managed to acquire the information that he was on the downtown side of the Sixth avenue IL and would have to cross over. This accomplished, and the desired information finally obtained, he made the trip to Harlem with a degree of success. being carried one station too far, however. as a result of being unable to get past a woman who stood on the ''I4' trains platform, without seeming a bit impolite or inconsiderate.
 His manner convinced his landlady to be that she could easily procure S6 a week for a two by -one hall bedroom, Percival accepting the terms with polite Thank you, maam!'' which so increa sed the Harlem woman's opinion of his 'soft- ness that she decided it would be fool ish to change the sheets for the new roomer.
 At the restaurant Perciyal selected he soon became known as the politest man ll Harlem, and as a result thereon was served with many articles of food which other customers had refused to accept His walters were careless of his service knowing they would receive both tip and thanks just the same, and his laundry proceeded to subtract collar or so every week, knowing that he would be too polite to accuse them of such conduct.
 Thus. in Manhattan, existed P. Pen rlngton, of ancient M. for several un-
The Birmingham age-herald., 1916-04-16

Well, I can tell you something, but peninsula from Resurrection bay to Tur nagan Arm within the past seven days. l started at Seward and went as far as Mile 29, on the Alaska Northern railway 1 there took horses and crossed the mountains over the Moose pass, and am now at the little mining camp of Sun rise, not far from the eastern end of the Turnagain Arm. Much of my journey has been on foot, and have not seen a dozen people while on the way The peninsula is almost uninhabited The country has hardly been prospected, and there are parts of the interior that have never been trodden by the foot of white man. My trip was over some of the best worn trails, and the information I have concerning the rest of of the peninsula comes from the recent explorations of our government scientists, from the miners and prospectors I have met and from the engineers, geologists and agricultur- ists who have ben gathering informa- tion in connection with the opening up of the peninsula by the new railroad
 If you will take your map of Ala ska you will see where the place lies. The hendl penlfSuld IS III the heart or the south-central coast, a great body of land that hangs down, as it were. from the coast range into the Pacific ocean. It is bounded on the east by Prince William sound, and on the west by Cook inlet. from which, at the north, Turnagain Arm extends far into the land. It is only about 10 miles or so from the end of Turnagain Arm across the country to one Of the inlets of Prince William sound, and the end of that arm is almost di- rectly north of Resurrection bay, on which Seward is situated. The Alaska Northern railroad, which the government has bought, connects these two points. The total length of the peninsula from north east to southwest is about 150 miles, and it's width in places is from 50 to 75 miles. It is Fl miles along the line of the rail- road from Seward to Turnagain Arm. The peninsula has altogether an area of 9500 miles. being of just about the size of Vermont.
 This region on the east is one of high mountains and broad valleys; on the west is great lowland plain that slopes dow nto Cook inlet. At Seward you are in the heart of the Kenai mountains. This range is about as high as the Alleghenies, with some peaks that pierce the clouds above the alti- tude of Mount Washington. Many of them are snow-capped and some have
The Birmingham age-herald., 1916-04-16

in the town of M as being somewhere in New York city,
 His elimination, however, had little or no effect upon Percival, so far as Miss Morton was concerned, for he had long ago come to look upon himself as too insignificant to dare compete for such a prize. Her own meditatons may not be chronicled herein, but the fact re mains that the days of her belledom waned and-went. and she was still Miss Morton of the Manor"
 Meanwhile, certain delightful old dere- Tets of the village, impressed and flat tered by Percival's self-suppressing habit which enabled them to do all the talk ing, convinced young Pennington that opportunity lay not within the confines of ancient M, and that it was his duty to seek the great city of Gotham. even as Mike Donnely had done, and there to achieve success that would send a thrill of pride and pleasure throughout M, and even unto the limits of it's slowly growing surburbs.
 This step having thus been decided for him. Pei cival was soon snoring suppressed ly in Pullman berth, paid for from the town of M to the Pennsylvania station, at Seventh avenue and Thirty third street. Manhattan. He had burned his bridges! In his possession was no return ticket In his dreams ne Stlli heard the f1atterng phrases dinned into his polite ears by the derelicts of M Ahead of him lay Gotham and glory or Gethsemane. But there was no go- ing back this side of actual achievement as there never is for him who leaves the village for the metropolis, for the metropolitan failure is the home-town's $ jest.
 Emerging from the vastness of the Pennsylvania station into d marvellous flood of sunlight, in which Seventh ave- nue was taking a May morning bath, F. Pennngton's countenance resembled the copy paper of an unknown author, before the faintest conception of a plot has sput- tered in his brain-pan.
 Having been advised to seek certain uptown section as place of residence he found himself pushed into the en- trance to the escalator at Thirty third
The Birmingham age-herald., 1916-04-16

old families of the fair village of NJ. and cultured graduate of the college of that near-municipality. was down and out,
 Hunger will accomplish many things for a man at times And it did much for P. Pennington. It was at the end of a years residence in New York city thar hunger forced him to seek the bread line. a crowning humiliation which NJ must never know of He found place ir the line, and with a hang-dog co,inte- nance, approached the man who was distributing the bread and coffee. Behind nm m the line was poor fellow who seemed hardly able to retain his stand ing posture. Seeing this, Pennngton of fered his place to the stranger. who ac- cepted 1t gladly, and promptly forgot Pennington altogether. He took the place the other had vacated, only to discover that, when he reached the distributor the man ahead had received the last nlorsel 10 De given away at that time
 It was the end. All the culture, all the old traditions. all the old life long habits were forgotten upon the in- stant- Hunger was eating at his vitals "hu iniPo'eHt rage was tearing at his heart. He left the line. walked with head down as rapidly as he could-he knew not-cared not---in which direc- tion
 At the corner he ran hard into q man as large as himself. The stranger looked at him quickly with a dark frown. then Pennington-or was 1t Pennington himself elf?-sauared himself with an oath and commended. out of n n th.s rest of them I'm sick of you all--do you hear me-yes. damn you. sick of you all"
 The properly enraged stranger inn mediately clinched with the quondam polite young citizen of M, put the strength of desperation was in the lat ters arms, and his opponent was soon helpless upon the ground beneath him. The arrest of both combatants fol-
The Birmingham age-herald., 1916-04-16

magnificent glaciers. There are a. half dozen glaciers in sight of the harbor of Seward, and one sees many others on his way north by railroad.
 The peninsula is we'll watered. The rivers rise in the mountains, and most of them flow to the west into Cook in- let. The Kenai and the Kasilof, two of the largest, pass through lakes of con siderable size and flow thence in an easy course down to the sea. They go over what is known as the Renal low land. This is a plateau from 50 to 200 feet high which runs from Cook inlet eastward to the mountains.
 I wish I could take you over the railroad from Seward north to Renal lake. It is one of the wonder rides of the world You go up the valley which ends in Resurrection bay amid the most magnificent of mountains. The mountains begin right at the sea It is as though Switzerland came down to the ocean, and you could ride un- der it's glaciers and snows through val leys and hillsideS of the greenest of green. There are rushing streams and winding lakes. There are great can yons and forest-clad cliffs. There are open parks made by nature and in them ferns and wild flowers and grass as high as your waist. The trees on the hillsides are largely spruce and the ozonic air of Alaska carries the sweet smell of the pines into your lungs.
 The first body of water on the way is Bear lake. This is about mile and a half long and mile wide. It is filled with fish, and it is said the gov ernment intends to establish there a fish hatchery and experimental farm. The location is ideal. It is only six miles from Seward and is in the midst of natural park surrounded by snow capped mountains, on the sides of which hang glaciers of sapphire amid for ests of emerald. The place is now in the wilds., In the future it will have an automobile road into Seward, and one can then go back and forth in a quarter of an hour. That region is now known as Woodrow park. It has been named after the President There is a roadhouse on the edge of the park, and near it clear rushing trout stream The place is a picnic resort. Some of the Seward people have built bungalows there. It makes one think of chautauqua or campmeeting' grounds.
 Going on to the northward, you pass little homesteads which have been cut out of the woods They. are few and
The Birmingham age-herald., 1916-04-16

Seeker Ildy cdlCll llle Silllt Ol a moral almost hidden in substrata composed of Manhattan manners and improper equipment for a metropolitan career. Its scenes are laid. principal ly, in New York city, for the reason that, in no other municipal tale -incu- bator could such a plot be matched successfully. And so we'll to the tell ing:
 When Percival Pennington entered upon this plane of existence in the ancient southern town of M he came burdened with the necessity for the early acquirement of all those traits and qualities long supposed to be the natural heritage of that fine old southern family His mother was a devout and humble follower of that faith which believes that complete submerging of the corpus is necessary for the souls salvation and in her the humility feature of her religious ten cts was almost abnormally developed.
 Naturally, she began early to in- still these ideas into the rapidly un- folding mentality of her promising young offspring. A part of her method lay in stressing the necessity for "a humble and contrite heart." for cour- tesy and extreme politeness upon all occasions. for absolute unselfishness. particularly in front of the srandstand and a general after-you- -Alphon SC con sideration- for my y-insignificants self-is- time wasted attitude.
 In his chiIdhood's quarrels his moth CT invari4, Sv proved to him that he had been irt> he wrong and was there fore due to offer an apology. When others were present she convinced him that for children to be heard, as well as seen, was unpardonable. and thus gradually. but surely. made self-sup- pression the dominant characteristic in tho otherwise bright young life of P. Pennington.