The Knoxville independent. [volume] (Knoxville, Tenn.) 1894-current, 1917-06-09

looked a stranger.
In the hall, he handed his card to
the waiting servant without word
The servant looked at it and saw but
one name:
Napoleon Edison"
AS the stranger had no appointment
Astra told the servant to advise him
that she could not receive anyone I'M
til Thursday evening, after the crema-
ton of her fathers earthly remains
Edison shook his head somewhat i'm
patiently
"If you say 1t is her wish not to see
me until Thursday evening, | must
wait Notwithstanding the Importance
of my mission"
He turned, left as hurriedly as he
came His whole being seemed sur
charged with energy.
Napoleon Edison met his short
friend Santos on the roof garden be-
fore the hourly stylograph. The round.
rudy checked man was watching the
helioboard with interest. He enjoyed
the great city immensely, and at that
moment he was laughing heartily at
the comic section shown on the board.
The newspaper was reproducing some
funny pictures made by a Chicago art
ist in the early days of the twentieth
century Il have never seen such
amusing brain products in my life" he
said.
Edison smiled at the amusement of
the man he called Santos. Taking his
arm, he led him to the elevator. This
time they went to the subway tube
and. after making some inquiries Of
the guard. Edison bought two tickets
for New York 1t took two hours for
them to make the journey between
Washington and New York.
After they left the train, the two
elbowed their way through excited and
mourning crowds. Santos could hardly
keep pace with the long strides Of
Edison. They turned into Forty-sec-
ond street from the avenue and hur-
ried into the Hippodrome, an immense,
but very old structure, a relic of the
nineteenth century.
The continental party had gathered
in this building and a somewhat stout
woman was speaking when the two
strangers entered. The audience list
ened to the woman with intense atten-
ton; her pleasant, strong contralto
voice filled the great hall and she
brought out important points in her
address with decisive strokes.
Edison and Santos stopped and list
ened.
ITO whom do we owe all these bless
ings? To whom must we give thanks
for the thousands of other things that
add comfort to home life, travel and
national existence? To whom but the
man whose soul has left the clay and
entered the land of peace: Hannibal
Prudent, ex-President of the United
Republics of America.
81 know that many of the section
lists and internationalists say we are
| isolated from the countries that gave
us our ancestors; | know that the sec
| tionists Infnk tne lB0faIfOn 90 an OUT
rage against our further development
in art, literature and science. They
think those things, but we continental
lists know differently
TT is true no Italian singers can be
imported to please the ears of the
wealthy; 1t is true that we cannot add
ancient pictures to our collections of
masterpieces; 1t is true that the
yachts of our rich cannot make a tour
of the Mediterranean; but compare
our losses with our gains!
Since the isolation we have Great
ed our American art! Does not that
alone pay for our isolation?
Our singers sing the airs of our
country; our artists paint pure, be-
loved objects and scenes known to all
of us.
Look at our magnificent, lofty ar
chitecture, our terraces and roof gar
dens at our reversible street covers,
at the swinging gardens, tube and
aerial roads. These are our own