davidaulloa/AmericanStories huggingface dataset:
New-York tribune., 1919-05-18

Tor the calm, the charm, the hone
"hlch they reflected in the brain
behind.
The young girl heard distinctly
the phantom's question. He called
her Mile. Henriette," as all the
others did. There was nothing dis
tlnctive about his words. Thev were
the plant of all those whom the ws,.
rad sent to the hospitals. His face
far off and vague, revealed neither
origin nor' social condition. 1t
emerged from the fog with the
sublime, pathetic humility of a man.
lost IN the innumerable throng of
men turned soldiers, who wanted to
inspire a memory in the mind of q
beautiful young girl.
Number SCI" she cried. with q
sense of relief.
The blood-covered mask seemed TO
move on the white pillow, as if to
her. She recalled suddenly
that No. Sc, youth from Beauce
mad had his face swathed in padding
beneath the surgeons bandages. His
last breath came at daylight on
beautiful Sunday in May, carrying
TO the anonymity of death the secret
OF his childhood and youth, his char
acter and status, even his family
The other face resumed its place
m her thoughts, still desperately de-
handing recognition. The troubling
vision made her bend feverishlv
again among her papers, photo
New-York tribune., 1919-05-18

She had been obliged one dav to
quit him suddenly, standing on his
crutches in the centre of a group.
The next day he blamed his fever
Like a little child he felt ashamed
swearing that he would never do it.
again, that he felt for her graft
tude, respect and an admiration
beyond all limits. He had returned
TO the front. From there onlv he
mad ventured to offer his name and
MS LIE (lf the latter should be
spared hlm) to "the white fairy"
who had remade a fit soldier ont of
the half-corpse whom she had so
generously aided to put back on his
feet A photograph had come
youthful and smiling, from the field
of agony where, a month later the
original had his head blown off bv
shell.
Marcel Degray!" she sighed, put
ting down the bundle of papers.
She repeated the names of manv
others of her wounded, while the un-
known kept calling from the depths
of her memory:
mile. Henriette, me, too. Don't
you remember me?"
What the eyes of her soul saw was
the face on a white pillow. The
delicate mouth was so still that it
seemed without breath. The look
from the eyes was a mere slant. so
close together were the eyelids. But
from this broken line poured forth
gleam Of sensibility remarkable
New-York tribune., 1919-05-18

go through with the bargain, where
upon her father sent her late at night
to tell the brutal landlord that he
could go ahead with his arrangements
for dispossession. Hours later she re-
turned to her home, moaning over and
crazed by the tragedy that had come to
her at the hands of the beast upon
whom she had innocently called. The
village grocer rushed from the house
with terrifying threats of vengeance
which he lacked the courage to per-
form.
Realizing this, the young brother
took down the large fowling piece from
over the family fireplace and blew off
the landlords head"
Irony and a deepened sense of
tragedy are finally added by the
arrival of a delayed letter from
America, containing a check which,
had it arrived on time, would have
given a wholly different cast to the
action. The dialogue at this point is
extremely interesting:
SARAH FERGUSON. Oh, he's sent
the money to pay the mortgage!
She holds the order in her fnoers
and gdSes stupidIy at it for a
teW moments. They are all
silent for aUhile.
HANNAH FERGUSON (b;ttcy1J
Gods late, da.
JOHN FERGUSON (fee1ing the blow
to his faith). Don't, daughter, don't.
HANNAH FERGUSON (getting up
and gong to the 1oindow). Oh, it's
wicked, it's wicked.
SARAH FERGUSON. If it had onlv
come by the last MALL
JOHN FERGUSON. There must be
some meaning in it. There must be.
God doesn't make mistakes.
HANNAH FERGUSON. Isn't it ouare
and funny, da? Isn't it funny?
SARAH FERGUSON (going to her
and shaking her.. Hannah, Hannah,
for dear sake, control yourself.
HANNAH FERGUSON Napsino from
laughter to tears). Where's the right in
it, da? Where's the right in it? It's
lot just It's not fair
New-York tribune., 1919-05-18

shaded his cheeks; q black, shaprv h.. 4
of hair like lions name crowned \, :.
forehead and hung down behind il 4
cascade of curls. She was stron, -, J,
vigorous, and did all the work ~ y.
house like a good bourgeoise m.,.
willing than skilled in such labors 8.
played with her children like a ,,r,
and her kindly, smiling face clouaos|
only when she heard the cough Of n.
beloved invalid.
AN atmosphere of eroticism. of h.
regular existence, of protest ars,rs.
conventional custom, seemed to .u,
round this vagabond family. sh.
dressed in fantastic gowns and wor. I
silver dagger thrust in her hair. s. -
mantle ornament which scandalizes u. :.
plous Majorcan danes. Besides. she d;,
not go to mass in the city, nor mals
calls; she did not go out of her hou.s
except to play with her children or ;.
entice the poor consumptive out ipto
the sunshine, leaning on her arm. Tb.
children were as extraordinary as ths
mother. The girl went dressed Nxe !,
boy that she might run with create,
freedom"
THEY were completely ostracized: ):
and at length, so great was tbs
scandal their presence in this stsid
and respectable place stirred, that
New-York tribune., 1919-05-18

graphs and mementoes. Her hands
caressed the testimony to that col
lectlve gratitude which she had 50
we'll earned.
She dreamed for some minutes
before the picture of Marcel Degray.
The last words he had written her
reproached her gravely for not being
willing to promise to be his wife.
She knew them by heart. She un-
folded the letter to go over it again
IN pain. But the anonymous visage.
ashy pale on the white pillow, hid
the paper and the writing. The eve
lids opened a little wider and the
look from the eyes grew brighter.
1t expressed, insistently and plead
ingly, the same fixed idea:
"Son't you know me now, Mile
Henriette? l should never have
forgotten you if l had lived. You
were so good"-
The young girl folded UP the love
letter and mechanically gathered to-
gether all her correspondence. the
photographs and the dried flowers
which certified to her helpful activi-
ties on the borderland of the long
fratrlcldal struggle of men against
men.
"Ah! I recall him now. Otto!
lie lived three days"
The fog swallowed up again the
face whose enigma she had solved
She had sensation of shame. But
the memory of Marcel Degray dissi-
pated it. For he, the combatant
who had had his legs broken and
nad recovered to go under fire again
and to meet death-he had believed
that wounds render the person even
OF an enemy sacred, making of him a
man without past, fit to be received
IN the broad fatherland of humanity
wherever, disarmed by the sufferings
OF his body, he comes to implore
relief.
New-York tribune., 1919-05-18

"Certainly we do," Henriette
added.
She misled them both with her
smile. In truth, it was meant for
that vague, far-off personality which
so persistently haunted her thoughts.
Breakfast over, she fled to her
room, as to tranquil haven where
she could think in peace, discovering
little by little what thread it could
be that for hours and days-for a
week at least-had drawn her to
that man whose features, hidden in
a mist, expressed in their youthful
ness and WEAKNESS all the melan-
choly of the process of being rescued
from the brutal abyss of war.
Who was he, among the hundreds
and thousands whom she had seen
and cared FOR? What sort of wound
did he suffer from?. Where had he
fallen? Was he a country lad or
city boy? A passive patient or
one unreconciled and resentrul?
Had she come across him in the hos
pital ward at Deauville, where she
alone had been able to calm Giraud.
the big fellow from Lille, whom the
least neglect infuriated and changed
into a terrible accuser, respecting
neither rank nor sex, if he believed
he had a grievance? Yet she had
appeased him by supplicating
glance.
She pondered and pondered-her
palms crossed against her closed
eyes, in order to constrain her way-
ward memory,
New-York tribune., 1919-05-18

"Well, we're going, Henriette
An revoir."
"Au revoir, Mathilde."
She forgot the fugitive face and
the misery whence it came to de-
mand recognition, at the sight of her
httle sister, now grown up, just like
what she herself had been before
the great catastrophe had burst upon
the world-a joyous young woman,
whose very presence created a
springtime atmosphere.
"You are very beautiful TODAY
my dear!"
"Yes? I didn't know it,"
"You should be very pleased with
YOURSELF"
Roger is always pleased with
me. Aren't you going to kiss
mammal"
"Certainly."
Left to solitude, the puzzling vis-
age began to haunt her again. More
mysterious than ever, it seemed in
vested with an air of indulgent re-
gret and to implore her tenderlv to
complete her task of Identification
She searched among her letters, pho
tographs and books. A signature
which she came across recalled, even
to the intonation of his voice. an
unfortunate whom she had helped
to make happy by her skill and Wig
lance and by her divination of the
need ne felt to make some one his
conhdant.
New-York tribune., 1919-05-18

~ have risen only a few
dramas worth more
than the passing attention of that
public which still admires a play for
its literary qualities" observes "The
Globe" One of these dramas, the
critics agree, is "John Ferguson" a
powerful bit Of Irish "realism" bv
st. John G. Ervine. Reacting much
IN the manner of the writer in "The
Globe" Charles Darnton says in
"The Evening World":
For my part, l can say that the
play and the acting gave me the most
interesting night of the year in the
theatre"
To reviewer in "The Morning
World' the experience is not all
sweet. "It is not" he says, Gin any
sense pleasant play. Rather, it is
gloomy, bitter and ironic." But, he
adds
ut is intense and absorbing in dra-
matte power, vigorous and graphic in
story, incident and characters, swift in
its undercurrent of emotional force.
we'll knit in its construction and excep-
tional in its literary quality"
4
THE story Of the play is succinct-
ly told in "The Herald":
Cali of the scenes passed in County
Down, Ireland, in the kitchen of an
impoverished farmer, John Ferguson,
whose strong, attractive daughter,
Hannah, appealed to the landlord who
was about to evict the family.
I'm an effort to save her father and
mother and younger brother from evic-
ton Hannah promised to become the
wife of the village grocer, weak and
talkatlve creature. But she couldn't
New-York tribune., 1919-05-18

the owner of the house in which
they had taken up residence ordered
them to move, "as if they were a !
band of gypsies." We read on:
Where should they go? To return
to their own country would be difficult,
since it was in the middle of winter,
and Chopin trembled like a forsaken
bird, thinking of the chill of Paris. HeI
loved the island, despite the inhospi-
table people, because of the suavity oil
its climate. The Cartuja of Vallde. |
mosa offered itself as their sole refuge
a building devoid of architectural
beauty, with no other charm than that
OF its medieval antiquity, situated inl
the mountains with pine covered
slopes, having, like delicate curta ins
temperlng the suns ardor piantationsI
Of almond and palm, through the
branches Of which the eye could maksl
out the green plain and the distant sea-
II was a monument almost in ruins. al
monastery suggesting melodrams.l
gloomy and mysterious, in the clois-f
ters Of which camped vagabonds andt
beggars. To enter it one must crossI
the old cemetery of the friars, with its i
graves disturbed by the roots of forestf
Trees thrusting bones up to the veryt
surface. On moonlight nights a whitel
phantom stalked through the cloisteu
the shade of a wicked friar Who'll
haunted the place of his msdeedsI H
while awaiting the hour of redemption.t
"Thither went the fugitives one |!
stormy winter day, bufeted by wind
and rain, travelling along the same
route which Febrer snow followed, hutl
bS an old road which barely deserved
the name. The wagons of the caravan
as George Sand said, with
one wheel on the mountain and the
other IN the bed of a gully The musf
clan, wrapped in his cape, sat tren-
bling and coughing under the canw
cover, throbbing with pain as tie
vehicle jolted over the rough ground
Ihe novelist herself followed on foss
over the worst places, leading her CHI
dren by the hand on this vagabons
journey.
They spent the entire winter in the
ISOLATION Of the Cartuja. She, wearing
turkish slippers, the little dagger o.
ways thrust into her ill-combed hair,
'ourageously did the cooking with thek
assistance of young peasant girl wha B
sook advantage of every opportunity a
10 gorge herself with the dainties in-
tended for the beloved invalid The
lrchins of Valldemosa stoned the littls
French children, calling them Moovs
and disbelievers in God; the womss
cheated the mother when they sold hsf
provisions, and, moreover, they dubbesl
ler the witch They all made us
sign OF the cross when they met thsa
gypsies' who dared to live in csl
1t the monastery, neighbors to ta
lead, IN constant communication wild
he spectral friar who stalked througs
he cloister.
"By day, while the invalid was rest
ng. George Sand prepared the broth |
md, with her slender, white, artlstic
aands, helped the maidservant to ped
he vegetables; then. with her two
hildren she would race down TO the
hrupt, tree covered beach of Miramaf
where Ramon Lull had established his
chool of Oriental study Only with
he approach of night did her real az.
stence begin.
TNHEN the great gloomy cloistefl
Il vibrated with mysterious mu-
lc which scanned in from afsx
through the heavy walls. It. was Chot
New-York tribune., 1919-05-18

sent to the discerning and hospitable
'Macmillan's Magazine alas! no longer
Dinah Shadd,' there was The Incarna-
tion Of Krishna Mulvaney,' there was
Without Benefit of Clergy there were
others, plain and coored.
THAT was yesteryear, and yesterday
We got Mr.. Kipling's fifth volume Of
poetry from the house of Methuen,
under the title The Years Between
He does not mean by that the years
between his coming to England and
now, but the years since 1903, when he
gave US his last bouquet of verse, The
Five Nations.' His song is constantly
familiar in our ears, but really he has
not written great deal as poet. He
has minted his muse for the golden
ore only, which is why it seems such
large wealth to US. If sometimes mug
gets Of quartz have crept into the
golden metal-well, that was inevitable.
'Barrack- Room Ballads which brought
him poetic fame; The Seven Seas
which confirmed that fame, and earlier,
while be was still in India, Depart
mental Ditties'-these, with The Five
Nations and the new Years Between
are Mr.. Kipling's flowers Of Parnassus."
In a different vein one finds
Travers Hackett, writing in ~The
New Republic:
Public poems are Ike public statu-
ary. They are not intended to give
pleasure. They are intended to i'm
pose, TO exalt, to edify. In the case Of
the statues the edification is usually
miscalculated. We do not feel that a
good man has been lifted above US.
We feel that good man has had the
intoierable misfortune to be petrified
or -metallized, and In uncomfortable
clothes. Poetry in a frock coat. hold
ing~in its hand the pot-hat Of states-
manship, is not much better off. I'm
less the poet is really transferred
by his cause - 'Avenge, O Lord. thv
slaughtered saints'-he is one OF the
most lugubrious and depressing of ped
estalled men,
For twenty years and moro Rudyard
Kipling has put aside these light gs-
thetic considerations. He has come to
take with enormous seriousness h;s
function as the British laureate. Once
he played on a banjo He wrote jazz
poetry. Those glad old days are gone.
Fo~, as this collection Of public psems
testifes, he makes his roost on nod
estal. From heroes like Joe Chamber.
lain and Lord Roberts he rises 70 the
army and the navy, and then to the
stern invocation Of God. After the ex-
kaiser' II. @. Wells and Billy Sunday.
hr.]Aipling Is more ready TO lisp for
God than any other public character
But extremely solemniy. And whers
would the public poet bc without III.
Old Testament? As Mr.. Kipling might
say, whTe in Christsndie7"
And in conclusion tho writer saws.
New-York tribune., 1919-05-18

MFR. K1PLING is credited witt
having bestowed upon the Ger
man the epithet Hun, which has, il
the popular mind, become quit,
interchangeable. Here is the poem
published in 1914, in which thai
ringing line, "The Hun is at tn,
gate!" occurs:
'sFOr All We Have and Are:
LOR all 100 haze and are,
For all our children's fute,
Stand up and take the 4Uar,
The Hun is at tho gatei
Our 10orld has passed away,
In eVantonness 'erthrown,
There is nothing left to-day
But steel and fire and stomel
Though oil tue kme,u depart,
The old Commandments stund:
"In courage keep your heart,
In strength lift up your humd."
Once more sVe hear the vord
That sickened earth of old:
"No ldw except the Sword
Umsheathed and uncontrolled.
Once more 1t knits mankind,
Once more the nations 90
To meet and break and bind
A crazed and driuem foe.
Comfort, content, delight,
The ages slo1o- boughtH } ain,
They shrivelled in night.
Only ourselues remain
To face the naked days
n, silent fortitatde,
Through perils and dismoys
Rene1Ued and re-renewed.
Though all We made depurt.
The old Commandments stand:
I'm patience keep yoatr heart,
In strength lift up your hand."
No easy hope or lies
Shall bring us to our goal,
But iron sacrifice
OF body, will, and soul.
There is but one task for all-
One life for each to give.
Who stands If Freedom fall?
Who dies If England hve?
New-York tribune., 1919-05-18
kiplingg Again, With ''The
: Years Between''
His Fifth Volume of Poetry, Which One Writer
Here Praises and Another Laments as Evidence
of Fallen Genius. sFor All We Have and Are -

kkTHE new blooming Of Mr.
Rudyard Kipling," some
one calls it, but another
writes, "The light that
There is another volume Of Kip
ling verse on the market. 1t is
called "The Years Between
Doubleday, Page & co.,.
We find James Milne observing in
"The Graphic" (London):
"Years ago, say thirty Of them, there
came to London from India, where he
was born, young man of the name
Rudyard Kipling. 1t was q good name
to carry at the end of a pen, because
unusual, distinctive, and so made for
distinction. John Smith-a generic no.
bodyl But Rudyard Kiplingl All, he
was bound to be somebody. He came
in the wake of several stories he had
New-York tribune., 1919-05-18
George Sand and the
Dying Chopin
cit Was Chopin, Bending Over the Piano Com.
posing His Nocturnes-The Novelist, by the
Light of the Candle, Was Writing 'Spiridion'"
NROBABLY the world

nROBABLY the world at
large, and certainly writer's
n in particular, will never
weary of hearing told and of
telling again from new angles and
with fresh appreciations the ro-
mantle story of the love of Chopin
and George Sand. Their sojourn at
Valldemosa was full of mystery and
hauntingly rich with artistic achieve
ment.
The theme has entered into one of
Blasco Ibanez's novels, "The Dead
Command" not in a major way, but
glancingly, the substance of one of
the hero's reveries on his way to
New-York tribune., 1919-05-18

John Ferguson, an Irish drama
IN toar acts By st. John G.
Ervime. Produced by the The
otre Guild last Monday.
New-York tribune., 1919-05-18

Translated by William L. Mcpherson
Copyright, 1919, by Neao York Tribune Inc.

q N York Tribune
bmd@mn
New-York tribune., 1919-05-18

speaking Of Kipling's "dulled express
sion": sass a sswH4aaS
Whatever his politics, he writes like
man whose senses are no longer elias
tic or even vivid. This is the real rea-
son why his public poems seem like
public statuary. The light Of his
youthful personality is departed, leav-
ing an Anglo-Indian mind. In this
volume there are glints of genius, but
most of it has the sullenness Of leaden
spirits and laggard inspiration. Only
the most fatuous Kiplingites will re-
joice in it,"
New-York tribune., 1919-05-18

Continued on page seven
New-York tribune., 1919-05-18

sGTHEN the great gloomy cloistef
Il vibrated with mysterious mu-
SIC which scanned in from alta
through the heavy walls. It was Chos
Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1919-07-30
BARES TURKS DECISION
TO DESTROY ARMENIANS
Berlin Tageb1att Says Slaughters
Deliberately Planned to Realize
National Ideas.

BERLIN. July 20 (by the Associated
Press).-What Is described as 'sthe
truth about the Armenian massacres"
is revealed to the German public by
the Tageblatt, which prints extracts
of book based upon diplomatic docu-
ments which the foreign ministry
commissioned John Lepsius to write.
The writer shows that the Turkish
committee of union and progress de-
liberately decided to realize national
ideas by assimilating or destroying
the Armenians, who in Turkey num-
Der about 1.S50,000. He described the
arrest and massacre of 500 Armenian
leaders in April, 1915, and how the
previous so-called Armenian rising
was provoked as a pretext for Young
Turk schemes Lepsius repudiates
the charge that Germany favored the
crimes or that German officials in
cited the Turks to commit them, say
ing the German embassy was i'm
potent.
Theodor Wolff. editor in chief of
the Tageblatt, in connection with the
book refers to the deportation of
Belgian unemployed, saying that of
$4,000 who were deported and treated
as slaves. $500 persisted in two
months.
Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1919-07-30
ARTILLERY ACCURACY ON.
BORDER SPECTACULAR
SD Regiment, as Well as Cavalry
Praised in Official Report Of
Juarez Expedition.

Official detailed reports on the re-
cent punitive expedition Into Juarez
to drive out Villa troops, when the
battle there threatened lives of Amer
leans in Ell Paso, give especial praise
to the work of both the artillery and
the cavalry.
1t is said that some of the achieve
ments of the I'd Battalion of the sgd
Field Artillery. under command of
Lieut.. Col. H. L. Newbold, were as
spectacular as any in the great war
when the small nature of the engage
ment is taken into consideration.
The reports say Col. Newbold had
his men and guns in so closely be-
hind the sktrmish line that they were
ready to fire before the infantry had
command to fire was given. the
shrapnel began sweeping the fence
corners and grandstand of the race
track, where the Villa troops were,
exactly on the target.
Col Newbold's batteries got off
sixty-four rounds with such speed
and accuracy that observers report
the action like a performance of the
prize gun teams in France which made
new records with the French ISIS.
When the infantry advanced, every
point of vantage around the Mexican
positions was found riddled with steel
bullets.
The cavalry comes in for a full
measure of praise for its rapid move
ment to cut off the main rebel body,
while the performance of the engi-
neers in throwing across the Rio
Grande in less than an hour, a pom
toon bridge capable of bearing the
heaviest equipment is reported as
having set new records in that line.
The doughboys'' of the infantry
OF course come in for their usual
share of praise, which is in no way
dlmmed by the mention of the sue
cess OF the engineers. cavalry and ar
tillery.