davidaulloa/AmericanStories huggingface dataset:
Great Falls daily tribune. [volume] (Great Falls, Mont.) 1895-1921, 1919-04-29
BARzlLAl NOT GOING BACK

Paris, April 2S.-( Havas The
newspapers report that Salvatore Bar
zilai, a member Of the Italian peace dele
CATION, declared that he did not intend to
return to Paris. Barzilai is republi-
can deputy and former member of the
Italian cabinet He left Paris with Pre-
mier Orlando Friday night
Great Falls daily tribune. [volume] (Great Falls, Mont.) 1895-1921, 1919-04-29
URGENT CALL RECEIVED ADoR

Geneva, April os.-t1nstave Ador.
president of the Swiss Federation. has
received an urgent summons to the peace
conference in Paris and left for Paris
Sunday night. The newspapers here
state that he has been invited by the al
lies to act as arbitrator in the question
of the Adriatic.
Great Falls daily tribune. [volume] (Great Falls, Mont.) 1895-1921, 1919-04-29
PRESIDENT ADOR
MAY ARb|TRATE
F|UNE DISPUTE
Head Of Swiss Fedora
ton Hurries to Paris
on Peace Call.

Paris. April 2S.-Gustave Ador. presi-
dent OF the Swiss Federation, arrived ID
Paris this afternoon from Geneva.
Great Falls daily tribune. [volume] (Great Falls, Mont.) 1895-1921, 1919-04-29
j. 8. OWNERSHIP
URGED Tin REPORT
NOW WREPUD|ATED'
President Told Cables
Can Be Given Back
by May 10.
WOULD HAVE CONGRESS
SAFEGUARD LAND LINES

Washington, April 28.-The gov
ernment Is preparing to reiinquish
control next month of American
cable lines and to restore the teIe-
graf and teiefone systems to private
ownership Immediately after enact
ment by congress of laws necessary
to safeguard the properties.
Postmaster General Burieson, as
directing head of the wire commun-
icatioH service taken over as a war
measure, announced today he had
sent to President Wilson a recom-
mendation that the cables be turn
ed back forthwith, probably not lat.
er than May TO- Later the post
master general gave out a state!
ment, saying he would recommend
that the teIegraf and teIefone SER
vice be returned to private owner
ship contingent, however, upon FL
nancial protection to be obtained
from congress.
Great Falls daily tribune. [volume] (Great Falls, Mont.) 1895-1921, 1919-04-29
German Delegates
Reach Versailles;
Party Numbers go

Versailles, April 28.-(navas.) y
The German delegates to the peace
congress arrived here this evening
at 9 O'Clock. The party numbered
80.
Immediately on their arrival, the
delegates were taken in automobiles
TO the Hotel des Reserves. There
was no untoward incident.
Great Falls daily tribune. [volume] (Great Falls, Mont.) 1895-1921, 1919-04-29
AMBASSADOR PAGE
LEAVES ROME E0R PARIS

Nelson Page, the American ambassador
to Italy. has left Rome for Paris.
Great Falls daily tribune. [volume] (Great Falls, Mont.) 1895-1921, 1919-04-29
CABLES NEAR PEACE BASIS NOW.

CABLES NEAR PEACE BASIS NOW.
It was explained by Mr.. Burleson that
no legislation was necessary in the case
of the cable properties.
Iessening the traffic done by the
cables and other circumstances arising
from transition to q peace basis, Mr..
Burleson said, had resulted in his rec
ommendation to the president that the
lines be no longer operated BY the gov=
ernment.
In the matter of land service, how.
ever, the solution of the problem will bs
put squarely up to congress. Coming
SO soon after the recommendation, in
his annual report, that the telefone and
telegraf lines become government-own-
ed at the conclusion of peace. the post
master generals statement created ua.
usual interest In some quarters.
Face Financial Storm.
Postoffice department officials who
have aided in control of the telegraf and
telefone companies have said that few
of the companies would weather the fl
nancial storm it the properties were
turned back without remedial legisfa-
ton Some officials said that, while
the properties must be returned in this
same physical condition in which they
were taken over, to do this now, with
out added revenue to meet wage demands
and increased cost of operation, would
wreck the entire industry.
Republicans in congress have indicate
ed their intention at the Forthcoming ex-
ira session to press for the return of the
service to private management
Leaders in this movement have assert-
ed that, in SO doing, they would en-
deavor to protect the companies inter-
ests.
Taking Caused Controversy.
BY proclamation of the president, the
wire service, with the exception of cable
lines. was taken over by the government
on July 81, last. and placed under SUPER
vision of the postoffiee department The
as to cable control was
signed by the president on Nov >.
No announcement as TO the action was
made until after the signing Of the arm
istiee on November H.
Taking over the cable systems was
followed by n controversy between the
postmaster general and Clarence Fl.
Maekay. president of the Commercial
Cable company, which resulted IN the
Continued on Page Two>.
Great Falls daily tribune. [volume] (Great Falls, Mont.) 1895-1921, 1919-04-29

The second installment of Germans
who are to attend the peace congress
arrived here at 10 O'CLOCK tonight. The
party included large number of women
stenographers and typists,
They were taken To the hotel assigned
to them, in motor busses. A Gordon was
thrown about the Streets in the vicinity
of the hotel during the arrival
The main plenipotentiaries and the
technical delegates, who will complete
the full delegation, are expected to
arrive tomorrow.
Great Falls daily tribune. [volume] (Great Falls, Mont.) 1895-1921, 1919-04-29

Al COUNTIES IN NINTH
DISTRICT RAISE QUOTA.
Minneapolis April 2S.-Forty-o
counties in the Ninth district have rails
Continued Pa.e Two)
Great Falls daily tribune. [volume] (Great Falls, Mont.) 1895-1921, 1919-04-29
General view of Fiume.

Washington, April 28.Tra before miray tribunals of
Of the former German allied and associated powers
New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1919-05-18
The One Who Understood

Back in the dining room the Eldest
Aunt was speaking.
81 cannot understand her." she said
"Wilful and stubborn and unrepentent
how unlike her dear mother!"
at does not seem as though she
could ba Helena's child" observed the
Youngest Aunt. Il do think a sulky
child is dreadful I have never seen in
her the slightest sign Of being sorry
even after she has been we'll scolded"
she is little stole said the Sec
ond Aunt, and helped herself to pud-
ding
The Lame Uncle pushed back his
chair with a sudden rasping sound
and excused himself.
He found the child motionless on the
step and seated himself beside her.
Here's some gingerbread for you,
little girl he said.
She did not stir, but continued to
gaze, chin in hand, into the deepening
night After moment the Lame I'm
Gle set down the gingerbread. He be-
gan to hum under his breath
Presently he moved closer and PIT
his arm around the child. He could
feel the tense little figure culver at his
touch.
The Lame Uncle sang the words
softly:
"Heigh baby, no baby, shut your eyes
tight,
Daddy will sing you love song to-
night"
He listened, and heard the sharp
catch of her breath. His arm about
her frightened.
Wouldn't you like to cry little ~
he asked. He had to bend his head to
hear the whispered, broken answer:
"The Man-of Scarlet-said /
mustn tt
NH -hm.' said the Lame Uncle to
himself. Il thought it was like that;
Helena again, God bless her!" He
gathered the child into his arms. HE
meant that you shouldn't--in there, you
know. But out herewith me-you
know ! love you very, very much
And the Aunts in the dining room ex-
changed glances, as they heard the
child sobbing bitterly and the Lame
| Uncle grooming lullaby.
New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1919-05-18

was tall and straight and princely,
with q brilliant cape Of scarlet thrown
over his shoulder and a sword at his
side. On his head he wore a plumed
hat and at his feet there skunk
surly panther. The child watched with
content as he came and sat beside
her, her tense little body relaxing
The panther stretched upon the leaves
and the child stroked his velvet coat
with fearless, friendly hand. The
great beast switched nervous tail,
yellow eyes cleaning, but did not
shrink from the soft touch.
The Man of Scarlet unsheathed his
sword and polished its shining length.
He smiled at the child. "Child," he
said, chime is the Gentle Heritage.
Courage and honor and steadfastness
are writ upon thy banner. Hold thy
head high and let no cry escape thee.
Such lot is hers who hath the Gentle
Heritage"
1t was late when the child crept be-
tween the bars of the woodlot gate
into the lane The lane was deep with
shadows; the woods on either side
stood dark against the sky, and the
air was fragrant with the fresh scents
of falling evening. The lane turned
into the meadow and the child stood a
moment watching the myriads of dart
ing firef1ies. A little young moon hung
low in the sky.
Then from the south pasture came
the tinkle of cowbell, and the child
started from her dreams Hiram had
finished milking and had turned the
COWS out. 1t WAS late, then. The aunts
would be at supper; they would be
angry. She had been told at her last
tardy appearance at the supper table
that at the next offence she would be
punished. She began to run, stumbling
and breathless. This was a new world
where meals we're sacred things, and
one must present ones self promptly
at table, under penalties. She anc
Daddy never used to let breakfast OF
dinner interfere with the really i'm.
portant things of life, and never mind
ed if the biscuits were cold or the
soup chilled Daddy-a lump rose il
the childs throat and she ceased run
ming to dash the back Of her little hant
New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1919-05-18

across her eyes. 1t was with Daddy
that she had first met the Man Of Scar
let. Daddy had known about him first,
and had told her.
Supper was almost over when the
child pushed open the door from the
side porch and, entering, backed up
against it, her eyes blinking little. A
frozen silence fell on the room; only
the Lame Uncle stirred, uneasily, in
his chair.
Late again" 1t was the Eldest
Aunt "Where have you been?'
II was in the woods" answered the
child. She looked very small and
slight, her little face white in the lamp
light above her black dress.
"You should know better than to be
in the woods at this late hour. What
were you doing there
The child fixed her big eyes on the
Eldest Aunt's face and did not speak.
What were you DOING" repeated the
Eldest Aunt.
The child only gazed at her
Answer me!"-sternly
"I-can't tell you," said the child in
low voice
There was Mortified gasp and a
pause.
Then: 81 do not think you meant
that. l cannot believe that you in
tended to be impcrtinent. Tell me at
once what you were doing in the
woods"
"I-cant," breathcd the child.
The Eldest Aunt rose, her face lined
with displeasure She took the child
by the arm and opened the door into
the next room.
"You may so in here" she said
"You are a naughty and disobedient
child, and there is no place at the
supper table for little girl like that.
The child went through the living
room and out on the front porch. She
sat down upon the top step, chin ir
hand. Over the south pasture sailed
the little moon, leaving rippled patti
Of silver across the marsh pond. Fire
flies flashed their tiny lights in tn,
shadows; breath Of breeze sweer
from the meadow grass, touched The
child's little face and played in he,
hair.
New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1919-05-18
By Margaret C. Williams

IN HE table was laid for supper,
the lamp in the centre cast
ing a bright circle on the white
cloth The Eldest Aunt came in from
the kitchen with tall glass of milk,
which she placed carefully beside the
small fork and spoon. She shifted the
butter dish two inches to the right and
ficked an imaginary speck from the
Lame Uncle's fresh napkin.
Then she went to the door and stood
moment straining her eyes into the
gathering darkness. Brows drawn to-
gether she turned and lifted the little
bell from the side table, ringing it
sharply.
They came in to take their places at
the table, the Second and the Youngest
Aunts and the Lame Uncle. Heads
were bowed as the Lame Uncle said
grace. The Lame Uncle's blessing was
sweet and gracious thing, bu- the
face Of the Eldest Aunt did not relax.
The Lame Uncle spread his napkin
expansively over his coat.
where's the little girl?" he asked
cheerily.
The lips of the Eldest Aunt narrowed
into grim line.
Late again." she answered shortly
at is the third time!"
"There is no excuse for it," spoke up
the Youngest Aunt. "She simply
doesn't care"
"She has no moral sense" remarked
the Second Aunt, who could write M. A.
after her name.
Down in the woodlot the child was
sitting. Here the trees grew close and
tall and no ray of sunlight penetrated
It was dark and still and churchly
The child sat upon the dry leaves, with
little feet curled under her and dark
eyes sombrely gazing before her. Three
weeks she had lived in this strange
world, she was bewildered and hurt
and unutterably lonely. A world with.
out Daddy was q world without The
sun and the moon and the stars. Hc1
heart ached with the pain that looked
out from her dark eyes.
And then through the woods sh,
saw the Man Of Scarlet coming. Fl,
New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1919-05-18

Back Of the sltne birches
That stnnd like Uhite virgins
Noled in the night
The rnoon leons the ledge Of the hit
She IA fult-cuYved and comelg
White and cool.
Her long fmgers reach thru the wild-grape tonole
-Ansa NTH the breeze,
Stir the Email pool
Into glitterimg ,~ipptes;
For she is 3eotous Of the evening staY
Who hung all thru The ds4sk
Pespsag at her reflection
In thu stal, secyet mirror.
New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1919-05-18
love n Short Story by Theodore Dresser

she had half promised young Browne
that she would marry him, or let him
think she might had even confessed
part of her past to him Cor so she
said) and he had forgiven her, or said it
didn't matter. But when Keene came
along and she began to be interested
in him Browne did not like this new
interest in the least, became furiously
jealous indeed. So great was his pas
sion for her that he had threatened to
kill her and himself if she did not give
up Keene, which, according to her,
made her care all the more for Keene.
When Browne could stand it no longer
and was fearful lest Keene was to capt
ure the prize-which he was not, of
course, Idelle being mere trifer at
all stages-he had invited her OUT on
that disastrous automobile ride
A mere form, eating, this morn
ing! No appetite-due to his troubled
thoughts, Of course, these days,
which had ended in her being carried
into his presence at the Mercy General.
Browne must have been wildly in love
with her to prefer to kill himself in
that fashion rather than lose her, for,
according to her, he had swung the car
squarely into the rocks at Saltair
Brook, only it never came out in the
papers, and neither Idelle nor Browne
would tell
All railt0dy cars seemed soiIed to,Oard
the end of ride like thisi
She professed to be sorry for
Browne and inquired after him every
day, although, Of course, she had no
sympathy for them when she got them
into q contest Of this kind-was wholly
interested in following her own selfish
bent. Afterward, when Keene was
calling daily and trying to find out
how it really did happen, and j
c was still in evidence and wor-
rying over her condition (and old
Gambia also, he presumed -how could
he tell whom all she had in tow at that
time p, she refused to tell them, or
any of half dozen others who came
that she had allowed him, Garrison. to
fall in love with her, and had even
imagined herself in love with him,
ready to reform and lead better life,
and had finally allowed him to carry
her off and marry her in the face of
them all! What were you to make of
a creature like that? Insanity, on his
or her part? Or both
kenclm' They we're certainly speed
ing on! Those four aoooden co,Us in
that field, advertising brand Of butterl
Both, Of course.
But she could be so agreeabl when
she chose to be, and was so fascinat-
ingly, if irritatingly, beautiful all the
time!
There was no doubt, though, that
things were now reaching such a state
He couldn't stand it any longer
Women like Idelle were menaces, real
ly, and shouldn't be tolerated Most
men wouldn't stand for her, although
he had. But why? Why? Well, be-
cause he loved her, that was why, and
you couldn't explain 1ove. And the
other reason-the worst of all-was
the dread he had been suffering of
late years of being left alone again
1t was terrible feeling, this, fearful
Of being left alone in the future, and
being drawn to some one who, what
ever her faults, could make you idyll-
cally happy if she only chose to- Lord
how peculiar these love passions of
people were, anyhow How they
New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1919-05-18

being there or troubling about him in
the least?
An, Charles, there you are To
hlrafys first, then home"
She was making him a laughing
stock. or would if he didn't take things
IN hand pretty soon-a man who hung
onto a woman because she was young
and pretty, who tolerated wife who
did not care for him and who ran with
other men-a sickening heartless social
pack-in his absence. She was pull
ing him down to her level, that's what
she was doing, a level he had never
deemed possible in the old days. 1t
was almost unbelievable-and yet
But he would go in and get the flow
ers, anyway.
Back in minute, Charles"
And now here was Sicard Avenue,
again, dear old Sicard, with its fine line
of trees on either side of its broad road
way, and their own big house set
among elms and with that French gar
den in front-so quiet and aristocratic!
Why couldn't she be content with a
place like this, with her present place
in society? Why not? Why not be
happy in it, She could be such an in
teresting social figure if she chose, if
she would only try. But mo, no-she
wouldn't. 1t would always be the same
until-until--
The gardener had trimmed the grass
again, and nicelyi
mo, sub, Mr.. Garrison" George was
already saying in that sing-song darky
way of his as he walked up the steps
ahead OF him, and just as he expected
or feared he would. 1t was always the
way, and always would be until he had
courage enough to leave once and for
alias he would to-day, by George,
He wouldn't stand for this one mo-
ment longer-not one. Mrs Garrison
she say she done gone to Mrs. Gildas'"
&
Bodines, the Del Guardias or the
Cranes-they were all alike, "an' dat
yo' was to call her I'D dere when yo
come in or come out. She say to say
she lef' note TO yo on yo' dresser"
Curse her. Curse her. Curse her,
To be treated like this all the time.
He would fix her now, though, this
time! Yes, he would This time he
wouldn't change his mind.
George" this to his servant as the
latter preceded him into his room
their room-where he always so loved
to be when things were we'll between
them, never mind the bags now. I'll
call you later when ! want you,' and
then, as the door closed, almost glaring
at everything about him. There in the
mirror, just above his military brushes,
was stuck q note-the usual wheedling,
chatting rot she was inclined to
write him when she wanted to be
very nice on such occasions as this.
Now he could see what new lying,
fooling communication she had left for
him, where he would be asked to come
now, what do. instead of her being
here to receive him as she had prom
Used, as was her duty really, as any
| decent married woman would--as any
decent married man would expect her
to be Oh, the devil.
That fly bus&in9 IN the aVindow there,
trying to get OUT
What was the use Of being alive
anyway? What the good of anything
money or anything else? He wouldn't
stand for this any longer, he couldn't
no, he couldn't, that was all there
was to it. She could go to the devil
now; he wouldn't follow her any more
never, never, never,-the blank
New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1919-05-18
From High Farm
To You i'm Cities
By Walter Prichard Eaton

ITS not much, he said that youre keeping up
But youue right to make
A hermit of yourself
To shut your soul off
From the stimulus Of music
Your mind awoy
From the brisk product Of drama,
Your heart aaUay
From the Uered social problems of our age
And all the stress and talk OF busy men.
We all need you less,
A liberal dose
Of Little Old Ne1v York"
All true, my friend But hou orphan
HoU much larger than
4 mountain is?
What deep devotions it may claim,
What acaling concerts sound along its slopes
What solemn 1t hold
What toft and Wisdom IN its scaeruoyse
For you, nny friend, down there along Broad,caY
These scattered records
From upland farm.
New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1919-05-18

have to summon all his ease to make
his inquiry, for one had to keep ones
face before the servants, you know
but then it was entirely possible that
Charles wouldn't know whether she
were home or not. She didn't always
tell the servants. If she weren't there
though-and after that letter and tele-
gram Well--now-this time-
Wheeluright! They acre running a
little late, perhaps, bat they would enter
the station on time
But take, again, that last affair, that
awful scene in the Shackamaxon at
C, when without his knowing it she
had gone down there with Bodine ana
Arbuthnot and that wretched Aiken
head. Think of being seen in a public
place like the Shackamaxon with Aiken
head and two such other MASTERS (even
if Mrs. Bodine were along-she was no
better than the others,) when she was
already married and under so much
suspicion as it was. If it weren't for
him she would have been driven out of
society long ago! Of course she would
havel Hadn't General and Mrs de
Paste cut her dead on that occasion .
only when they saw that he had joined
her they altered their expressions and
were polite enough, showing what they
would do if they had to deal with her
alone.
That brown automobile racing this
train, How foolish some automobilist
we're!
Well, that time, coming home and
finding her away, he had run down to
c. on the chance of finding her
there-and sure enough there she
was, dancing with Aikenhead and b.
dine by turns, and Mrs. Bodine and
that free Mrs. Gildas and Belle Geary
joining them later. And when he had
sought her out to let her know he was
back quite safe and anxious to see her,
hadn't she turned on him with all the
fury of a wildcat" Always following
me up and shopping around after me
to catch me in something's" and that
almost loud enough for all the others
to hear! 1t was terriblel How could
anybody stand for such thing! He
And yet he had-yes. he had, more
shame to him! But if it hadn't been
that he had been SO lonely just before
hand and so eager to see her, and
hadn't had those earrings for her in his
pocket-thinking they would please
her-perhaps he wouldn't have done as
he did, backed down so. AS it was
we'll, all he could think of at the mo-
nent was to apologize-to his own
wife,-and plead that he hadn't meant
to seem to follow her UP and "snoop
around" Think Of thatl Hang it all
why hadn't he left her then and there
Supposng she didn't come back? Sup
posing she didn't? What of it? What
of it? Only
"This tooy out, please"
Well, here was C at last, anc
there was Charles, we'll enough, wait
ing as usual. Would she be home now
Would she? Perhaps, after ALL he had
better not say anything yet, just go
around to Kiralfy's and get the flowers
and bonbons But to what end, really
New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1919-05-18

"This tooy out, please"
Well, here was 6 at last, and
there was Charles, we'll enough, wait
ing as usual. Would she be home now :?
Would she? Perhaps, after all, he had
better not say anything yet, just go
around to Kiralfy's and get the flowers
and bonbons. But to what end, really,
if she weren't there again? What
would he do this time? Surely this
must be the end if she weren't there,
if he had any strength at all. He
wouldn't be put upon in this way again.
Would he and all he had told him
self he would do the last time if ever
it happened again. His own reputa-
tiCn was at stake, depended on it.
What must the servants think-his al
ways following her up and she never