davidaulloa/AmericanStories huggingface dataset:
The Pensacola journal. (Pensacola, Fla.) 1898-1985, 1919-03-12
OUR MuNIrIoN .PLAMr

Washington. March 1.-THE aban
donment of the Neville Island ord
nance plant, on Neville Island. in the
Ohio river, near Pfttsburg. where It
was planned to build the largest mu-
milton factory In the world is announce
ed by the war department. Estimates
called for expenditure Of $3.50. 900, 900.
The Pensacola journal. (Pensacola, Fla.) 1898-1985, 1919-03-12

(Continued on Page SKI
The Pensacola journal. (Pensacola, Fla.) 1898-1985, 1919-03-12

FOR FLoRIDA-FalP wednesday IN
Thursday. not much change IN tempsrs
ture, fresh northeast winds.
The Pensacola journal. (Pensacola, Fla.) 1898-1985, 1919-03-12

THE PENeAcolA JOURNAL
Prints moro want adds than any other
paper Of like circulation in the world
Journal Want Adds Bring Results.
New-York tribune., 1919-11-16
(Copyright, 1919, New Yorlt Tribune I,

himself, as he said, was hard of
hearing. The shrill voice of the
wife and the gruff voice of the hus-
band filled the spring night with
discords. At last there was
strange calm, an absolute silence.
At dawn the gardener, very un-
easy in mind, was raking a path
way. Leaning out of window NJ.
d d'Asemont called him. He entered
the house, leaving his big sabots at
the door. He brought with him an
odor, at once pungent and fragrant,
Of earth and roses-the odor of a
garden after sharp summer
shower. But another perfume, still
more penetrating, was exhaled from
within the room. 1t was that of the
goodlooking young wife, whom the
gardener failed to see anywhere.
M. d'Asemont was there alone,
beside an immense packing box for
books. The top was open. Out of
the box struggled fragile, charming,
feminine things-lawns, batistes and
laces. The owner, his face livid,
kept his eyes turned away from it.
He motioned to it, and his hand,
New-York tribune., 1919-11-16

place and distrusting the police, he
said nothing. That night he helped
to bury the mysterious box. Pres
emily the rose bushes flowered. Oc-
tober came and replaced the blood
red petals with dead leaves.
M. d'Asemont never went there.
He was paler and more stopping
than a centenarian. His wandering
gaze seemed to pursue q shadow.
Every night the gardener had night
mares which shook him, gasping,
out Of his bed. He believed that a
ghost, bleeding and .groaning,
walked about in the garden. His
brain continually evoked the scene
Of violence and that which must
have followed. Then he thought of
what he had done-he, the accom-
plice. He, had the idea of sending
an anonymous letter to the police
But he couldn't screw up his cour-
age to do it.
The death-some say the suicide
of M. d'Asemont freed his con-
science. The police, enlightened by
him, started an investigation. Thew
found the box, which had hardly be-
New-York tribune., 1919-11-16

in anything, and whose only fault Is
her poverty. Take our painting,
music, literature. Our taste for
painting is unsurpassed, and as
every one knows, our art is Of the
best. Unlike some countries, we
have no patience with that new mad
ness that calls itself art. All Spain
laughs at the irrational futurists
and cubists who only make a fool of
the public. I have gone with my
friends to see pictures and we have
aided each other to guess if a GER
tain picture was the skyline of
city, study in the nude or a con-
flict of souls.
"Our music? Spanish music is
known everywhere in the world, and
you can hear it running underneath
the music Of all other countries, CIV
New-York tribune., 1919-11-16

himself. He determined to hold on
to the little income which was left.
He still owned an old house in the
country, sombre and lonely, hidden
in a garden which an aged care
taker made a pretence of keeping
in order. They took refuge in this
house, with the old gardener as
their only servant. Marie pro-
tested. But, contrary to her ex-
pectation, M. d'Asemont was i'm.
movable. Her excesses and the
catastrophe which she had caused
aroused his sense Of manhood. He
recovered his authority. They in
stalled themselves as best they
could. But there was an evil flame
in the eyes of the woma,., deprived
at once of her maid an1 her ad-
mirers. That double misfortune en-
ragged her.
The new mode Of existence lasted
only week. One night there was
dispute in the bedchamber so vio-
lent that the gardener could catch
scraps Of it, although his cottage
was some distance away nd he
New-York tribune., 1919-11-16

dry as parchment, seemed to shake
with fever.
"Go and lock it and them
"Then what?'
Tonight we two will carry it
down to the bottom Of the garden.
Dig hole there, broad and deep
enough, and we will put the box
into it. Do you understand"
Eyes, yes" stammered the gar
dener, already trembling with fright.
~Then you will level the ground
and plant roses in it. In the autumn
there will be dead leaves; in the
winter there will be snow. So
everything will be all right"
"Roses-dead leaves-snow," the
other repeated mechanically. His
body was covered with a cold sweat
at the thought of what he was to
do. He imagined the drama of the
night before. That sudden silence,
after the tumult Of the quarrel, as
sumed definite and terrible mean
ing in his thoughts. He knew that
his master had had an unhappy
married life. Fearing to lose his
New-York tribune., 1919-11-16

courtier to fair ladies. It has been
said that Blasco Ibanez never mar
ried because the task of choosing
one pretty adorer from the MANY
who spoiled him was too great. His
magnetic personality and his gift of
the common touch" must have been
an irresistible combination.
'""Aqui, muchacho," Blasco Ibanez
called to the bellboy, who, lacking
Spanish, remained motionless at the
door until he saw the note held out
to him.
Fancy the Gerards knowing
SPANISH" repeated Don Vicente, re-
turning to his arm chair oppo-
site me.
"That makes me happy. Spanish
is a wonderful language and Spain
is wonderful country, not behind
New-York tribune., 1919-11-16

gun to rot. They emptied it. 1t
was filled with delicate fripperies,
with those thousand and one i'm.
ponderable things which caress the
body instead Of covefing it. Bua
there was no corpse. The house and
garden were ransacked in vain. M.
d'Asemont had carried with him the
secret of his crime-of that ven.
geance which had come after so
many infidelities! The police were
mystified. The gardener was un-
willing to stay any longer in the
suspected house.
Fortunately, the notary received
letter from the missing wife. She
had learned by chance of her hus-
bands death and claimed his modest
estate. She had simply left M.
d'Asemont that night, determined
to escape from 80 cramping an ex-
stence.
And no one could imagine that
the betrayed and abandoned hus-
band had wished to put in the box,
not dead body, but the phantom
of his love, with all that equipment
which makes woman fascinating
and redoubtable. On that secret
tomb he wanted to have fall the
full rose and the dead leaf which
are the symbols Of desire, in so far
as it is ephemeral and mortal. He
wished also to see the snow fall.
which is the shroud Of forgetful-
ness. He Jas an original
New-York tribune., 1919-11-16
1tUO photographs
of Vicente BlascO
lO0nez, nOW IN
America for the
first time

were written with flowing hand in
the time-honored pen and ink-the
consecrated paper and the sanctified
ink that have ever been the medium
Of the masters of literature. No
such modern contraption as type
writer or a stenographer had
assisted in the task of transferring
the daily quota of words from brain
to paper. The pen-and-ink tradition
is sacred In the eyes of Blasco
1banez. 1t is tradition that is
walled about from the attacks of
modernity with immemorial and
classic custom.
While the novelist folded his letter
took note of the sturdy physique,
capable Of infinite endeavor, the
massive head with it's untidy black
hair, his aristocratic, aquiline nose
and the cleft chin that imparts a
requisite softness to his strong
features. The eyes, brown, keen and
kind, bore signs Of the WEAKNESS of
protracted labor and much too little
sleep.
"The face of a man who has
thought hard, worked hard, lived
hard and enjoyed all of it," I
thought, and smiled as l recalled
tales of the writer in his role of
New-York tribune., 1919-11-16
Into the Movies

"No,' ! said firmly; "but let US
have your news. Your secretary
said you had some."
Rather wonderful news, I think"
said Blasco Ibanez, excitedly.
"My Blood and Sand is to be
done into a play and Lionel Barry
more, who is, I understand, one of
your best actors, will have the role
Of the bullfighter. Then it will be
made into cinema and Mr.. Barry
more will act in that also. The con-
tract is as good as made"
"How splendid You like NOV
Ing pictures, then, and approve Of
them IS q medium?"
entirely. What better means
could there be to reach the people?
have had some experience already
with the cinema. When my -Four
Horsemen' and Mare Nostrum' were
filmed, I myself directed the max
ing OF these pictures. They cannot
DO shown i'll this country, because
no foreign films are admitted to
North America"
(What the novelist referred to
here is that the foreign film pro-
ducers all over the world de.
clare that their products are boy.
cotted in this country by exhibitors
who are either jealous or prefer
to help their own countrymen profit
on American films. American ex-
hibitors state, on the other hand,
that the boycott is purely imaginary,
and that if the foreign films could
pass our National Board of Censor
ship, or were appropriate for the
American public, or conformed to
our high standards Of photography
or dictatorship, they would gladly
bofk them. The result in either
New-York tribune., 1919-11-16

clan. How much literature does
Spain produce?''
more in proportion to its popu.
lation than any other country. Most
Of the novelists are realists like N.Y.
self. And why not? Was not our
Cervantes the first realist in the
world? With his Don Quixote' he
may be said to have invented the
realist school. Of course, / am not
speaking of the Russian realism,
stepped in an insane melanchol;a.
Spain has passed through the fad
for the Russian novel of the neu-
rasthenic type, but we cherish the
genius Of such writer's as Dostolev-
sky"
"Have you been told that you are
New-York tribune., 1919-11-16
4 New NoueI
FTER he had reached fifty
y five NJ. d'Asemont married
a very young woman. Her

CldIH nau SuOQenly n6Sne0
before his eyes, wearied by twenty
five years Of scholarly research.
He lived in the dust Of the libraries.
Some one had recommended Marie
to him as a copyist. She was a
ray Of sunshine cast into his
clustered life. She was poor. He
had certain amount of money.
The beautiful girl exchanged her
looks for his name and fortune.
But the latter was less substantial
than she, in her cupidity, had
imagined It to be.
Once married, she multiplied her
expenses. And he was too infatu-
ated to object, fearing to displease
her. So his fortune shrank
Presently she forgot her marriage
vows. While she enjoyed her illicit
freedom NJ. d'Asemont grew old.
He was a man with instincts Of
honor, but feeble. He suffered in
silence.
Finally he saw himself on the
edge Of ruin. Then, for the first
time since his marriage, his will
awakened and began to assert
New-York tribune., 1919-11-16
merican Speed and Movies Please lbane

inS this music life. I remember
when / went to visit the Sultan of
Turkey at Constantinople that
heard Spanish music in his palace.
Also, in Spain the better class Of
music is beloved. The Concert So
ciety of Madrid is q beautiful SYM
phony orchestra and draws to hear
it all the music lovers Of Spain. And
money is collected every month Of
the year to bring to Madrid each
spring the best orchestras and vir-
tuosi in Europe. Our zarzuelas are
the most popular with the people,
however, and at least three new ones
are produced every week. They are
one-act operettas; four Of them con-
stitute an evenings entertainment.
We finish dinner there about half
past nine and then go to hear one
act opera. Long entertainments are
not popular, and no one would have
the patience in my country to sit
through such lengthy musical come
dies as you have here. Ey the way,
I saw one Of these" and Blasco
Ibanez smiled broadly.
First Select the Girls
"Well, and didn't you like it?"
~ more than liked it. But am I
not right in supposing that you first
select the girls, then the costumes
and scenery, and lastly the
music?"
ut might so appear to a musi-
New-York tribune., 1919-11-16
Tn an Interview i'm His Own
Tongue He Speaks as Free
ly as He Writes

and shook his head warninglv
Thirty tines" repeated Biasco
Ibanez with emphasis. II was ior
political offenses, and am proud Of
it. / once made a revolution Seven
times J was taken before tho dcpu-
ties. And when the United States
and Spain went TO war | was again
in trouble, for I was on the side o.
freedom for Cuba. When things be.
came too warm for me IN Spain
used to flee to South America ard
Paris. Sometimes | got away and
other times went to jail I rade
my first escape when / was twenty
two, and reached Paris in disguise"
"How did you live" ! wanted 70
know.
Il have always managed to lie
I have always had money. either
very little or quite a good deal But
always some. was a cowboy in
South America for six years in the
Pampas. I made lecture tours in the
Argentine, too. going once with
Anatole France, who also was lee
turing. l founded a city in Pata-
gonia and named it Cervantes.
took to it six hundred Spaniards.
Russians, Germans, Italian and men
of many other nationalities TO make
the population. We lalq out the
streets in regular rows and there
was, of course, plaza in the centre
Of the city There we placed bust
of Cervantes. That bust and the
railroad tracks were all there was Of
the town. Later we built houses.
living in cabins in the mean time
Ny city is in existence today.
must go TO pay it a visit
New-York tribune., 1919-11-16
Hugo His Idol

"They have compared me TO Zoia
in Spain, yes. But am unworthy
to be compared to Victor Hugo. he
is the writer of all those of this
earth for whom I have the greatest
admiration. In all my houses-I
have a house in Valencia, where !
was born, house in Madrid, cha
teau in Malvarrosa iii the Mediter-
ranean, villa in Nice and house
in the Rue Rennequin, Paris-are
hung pictures of Victor Hugo in
every room. In my dining room in
Paris I even have painting of him,
done on large platter, which hangs
on the wall opposite my chair. /
look at him always. But I do not
deserve to be compared to him.
He was q great writer and a great
poet"
Blasco Ibanez bowed his head in
humility and patted down the locks
of unruly hair tha. grow far back
from his forehead. But they still
stood on end. This black hair, form
ing itself into untidy locks, seems so
much a part of Blasco Ibanez that
it is difficult to picture him with it
shorn, as he said it was during all
the occasions some thirty - he
spent in Jail for early revolutionary
activities.
"Does your novel, La Bodega,' ex-
press your personal convictions on
the subject Of prohibition asked.
The novelist was thawing out un-
der the effect of the steam at his
elbow. He unbuttoned the collar of
his overcoat. was breathing in
gasps. The secretary took advan-
tage of the presence in the hall Of
reporters and photographers and
popped out now and again into the
air. l frequently heard him assert,
in careful English: "She won't stay
much longer
"My testimony has no value on
that question" replied Blasco
Ibanez, with twinkling eyes.
at happens that don't like to
drink alcohol. One glass Of wine at
dinner is enough for me. Tobacco is
my failing, and at one time | smoked
twenty Havana cigars day. hope
people will not think that drunken
ness is national vice in Spain. In
some parts of the country there isn't
any wine at all
Il should like to hear something
of your early life, senior, if"-
The secretary entered the room
with an air Of determination and
whispered in the ear Of Don Vicente
at doesn't matter answered the
novelist aloud. LET them all wait.
Probably The Tribune is an import
ant newspaper, yes? There, told
you so. Go away. have yet to tell
about my early life"
"All Of it," the secretary IN
quired. His voice was colored with
alarm.
A Life Of Action
Scarcely all. l would be talking
all to-day and all tonight and still
not be finished. That is quite true,
senorita. My life has been filled
with action and adventures. was a
flaming revoiutionist, you know.
made speeches and wrote articles
| against oppression and was thrust
into prison thirty times"
New-York tribune., 1919-11-16
By Solita Solano

II G E N T E b l. A S G y
" IBANEZ, novelist extraor-
dinary, soldier Of fortune,
cowboy, sailor, Commander
Of the Legion of Honor, revolution
list and the founder Of city, sat in
small room of the Hotel Belmont
nursing a cold. This he was doing
after the usual formula followed BY
foreigners, who believe that all NAL
aides come from sitting in "cur-
rent Of air"
With all windows closed and steam
sizzling from the radiators, the dis
tinguished Spaniard was huddled in
chair. A winter overcoat was but
toned tightly over his broad chest.
a red and brown muffler encircled
his throat. A cap was pulled down
over his ears. The temperature of
the room was easily a hundred de-
grees, but the hands of Blasco
lbanez were thrust up his coat
sleeves in the same manner in which
q monk folds his arms in the sleeves
Of his habit.
He arose to greet me and ex-
claimed, "How agreeable to have an
interview in Spanish!" He withdrew
his hands from their shelter. saw
they were muscular and quick with
nervous energy that is the keynote
Of this man and without which he
could never have written in q bare
three months such voluminous nov-
els as "The Four Horsemen of the
Apocalypse" or "Mare HNostrum.
Apologizing for wearing his cap,
he reseated himself in his great
stuffed chair, launching his shoulders
and retaining this posture with the
rigidity of an eagle watching from
a lofty perch, motionless but for the
eyes, alive with light and missing
nothing.
"First your news" I suggested,
by way of establishing relations.
"News first. Yes, that would be
an American requirement" he re-
piled, and laughed himself out of
all semblance to an eagle and into
a fit of coughing
II landed only two weeks ago, but
had already learned Of North
Americas speed and business eff
cheney Also had heard about the
American interview. 1t is not drawn
out with polite phrases and a de-
scription of the week -before-last's
weather, like the European inter-
view. Your interviewer asks, 'Born?'
and writes down the answer, Spain
'Educated?' he next inquiries. Ques-
tions like DO you write with foun-
tain pen?' DO you like spinach?' %
When will you have a republic in
Spain?' follow. At least, that is
what have heard. l have not yet
met an interviewer like that in
North America, but that is, I sup
pose. because the newspapers here
have special interviewers for for
eigners, no?"
New-York tribune., 1919-11-16
In I'm rnprOmp'u Map

He rose and came over u h.s
desk. He turned over page IF hl
novel, and on the back sketched il
streets, the railroad and the bust o.
Cervantes with such pride, perhaps
as Romulus may have felt long age
in similar circumstances and Ger
tainly with more enthusiasm than be-
displays when his books are being
discussed. 1t may be he feels it is
certain that Victor Hugo he's VII
ten better books. but that the cit
Of Cervantes is still growing
In displacing the sheets Of "rhe
Enemy of Woman" Biasco Ibant
uncovered volume Of Los AZ
gonautas," Of which an English
translation will be ready In gsau
AIRY. 1t is South American story
and has as many pages, it seemed
as the -Four Horsemen. ex-
claimed again about his oxfraor
dinary output. He laughed.
Il can't even keep up witt my
self" lie said. Already my mex
FIVE or six novels are all worked on;
IN my head, waiting TO be written
One is placed in Mexico and tro ip
this country. Yes. / work hard
and 1t keeps me young. Wsh 70
be eternally young Youth IS bui
voluntary thing after all. One has
only TO wish hard enough ard he
may retain it.'
Like Balzac, Blasco lbarez writes
prodig;ously. In mis- slippers and
with his shirt torn open AZ ths
throat, he writes eighteen hours
day while setting a novel or paoel
Thus book is beTuni and ended IN
4 threemonths' span.
Luckily, ! have physical strength
TO resist fatigue. begin to write
at s o'clock in the morning and
work until /. lunch and rest until
q. begin TO write again and con
true until 9 o'clock. when have
dinner and go back to my desk.
There remain until two hours past
midnight. Six hours sleep is all
ever allow nlvself."
Then you do not have 20 tie your
feet to the table legs like-was 1t
Browning? Or have your clothing
locked up, like Victor Hugo? Nu
grope for word seven hours at .
time, like Flaubert?"
"Dios mio, no. ! love my work
and am like one possessed while
cover innumerable sheets of paper
with words that issue from my
brain like torrent. Grope for
word? can't put them down
quickly enough. I pause now in the
middle of my new novel to give
lecture tour, to make business with
cinema companies and 10 see inspir-
ing North America. Every one
wants TO know how like New York.
Aren't you going to ask me also?"
Il thought TO spare you. But Il
you have. good answer ready.
am wiling. Do you like New York"
i like it so much that am going
to buy a house here--nouse numper
six"
The secretary entered from the
hall. His brows were drawn to-
gether and he was wringing his
hands.
Senor, senor." he cried. First i
was that they waited for you TO get
up. Then it was that they should
wait for you to take coffee and wrap
up to cure your cold. Then came
the seiiorita. can excuse you to
them no more" He flung both arms
upward in gesture of supplication-
l helped them out Of the predica-
ment by taking my leave.
New-York tribune., 1919-11-16
'Dispensen,e, Don Vicente

To this hubbub and hustle Blasco
lbanez was to all appearances OBJ
livious. His ability to concentrate
enabled him to ignore the clamor
for his attention-except at such
times as his secretary, deeming it
necessary to. receive guidance,
touched him gently on the arm with
a "Dispenseme, Don Vicente"-
Blasco Ibanez was relaxing. Evi-
IDENTIFY the appalling heat of the
room had penetrated even that over
coat Of heavy cloth. His hands had
deserted his coatsleeves and his
shoulders had descended three
inches from his ears. He was just
beginning a story of how Anatole
France said to him, "The day you
write the story of your life will see
the birth Of the most interesting
novel in the world" when the secre-
tary halted the tale by handing him
an invitation to dine with Mr.. and
Mrs. James w. Gerard.
"They've written me in Span
ish." exclaimed Blasco Ibanez, de-
lightedly. He rose and, forgetting
the process Of his cure, pulled off
his cap and snapped on q pair of
black-rimmed spectacles.
"Now, how did they happen to
know Spanish and that don't know
English?"
He seated himself at his desk to
write an acceptance. Not to be
cutdone linguistically by the Ge-
rards, he addressed the envelope in
Nnglish, "Mr. and Mrs" His at
,empt resulted in "Mv. and Mvs. !"
and his secretary and l were called
nto consultation while he ran his
hands through his black hair.
4 Neau Novel
AS the novelist was writing his
note | noticed under his hand scat
tered sheets Of his new novel, 1.-THE
Enemy OF Woman" These, care
fully Photographed and punctuated,
New-York tribune., 1919-11-16

combination Of Victor Hugo and
Emile Zola?"
The novelist looked modestly
pleased.
New-York tribune., 1919-11-16
AN ORIGINAL-By Gabriel Vo11and

Translated by William L. Mcpherson
Copyright, 1919, New York Tribune Imc)
Here little story 1th unusual touch originality