davidaulloa/AmericanStories huggingface dataset:
The Washington herald., 1920-08-15
Winston Churchill at Home

water in the fountain while he pursues bis
writing.
This last summer he vas perhaps 20
buster than ever before. but the publishers
were. as they always are. pursuing him
mercilessly for a new book. He was
gracious and CHEEKY that one felt the mag
netism Of his presence as he met you, walked
with you through the garden and told you
concerning this home which he prefers TO
the one further down in the village. With
him were his dogs, the hounds being hI,
special favorites. although the little pom
eranisn comes in for his share Of the fun.
The dogs are his constant companions, foI-
lowing him all over the grounds.
The garden is reached by a courtyard
which is just at the side Of the house, walled
in by a fence that shows a green postern
gate and shaded by pine trees with liIscs
in the foreground and grape vines trailing
over the steps TO the lower level terrace.
1t is a sunken garden. Large stone steps,
fanked on either side by Italian flower pots
with pink geraniums, lead to the garden.
The entire garden is inclosed by high
cement wall blocking of the view Of the
driveway and the service quarters. It is
charming spot, but the house is still more
interesting.
The house is $50 years old and made over
and added to. Originally the road ran by
the house, but now it is moved around the
garden. The most interesting part Of It is
the hall, where on the wall are placed
trophies Of the hunt that were shot by the
author during some of his wood trips, for
occasionally he must run of and draw in
spiration from nature rather than books.
In the living room there are three Of
MsIheld Parrish's wonderful paintings. Il
is large room, music and living room COM
bined. with huge fireplace and so sttrsc-
tive that one does not wonder that the
family comes early and stays late.
The Washington herald., 1920-08-15

indication that our language is not rich.
If it were rich like the Eskimo language,
full would have ending and you'd know
that it merely means she stood up straight.
Not content with using equivocal terms,
the modern fctionist murders the kings
English for the effect of racineSs desired BY
editors. The dialogue goes something like
this:
- Back = she iced
L should not have come he hoarsed.
- thought you were in Philadelphia, .
she gIooped.
L was, he wheezed.
Small wonder, then, you came here,
she sharped.
He moves nearer to her. She can hear
his pants as he moved"
Mr.. Leacock paused to wipe his chin.
And then, of course, the husband comes
in. always calm and collected. The husband
says a few cold words to show how cool he
is-something like this. as he quietly lays
his light overcoat on a chair: I bought that
The Washington herald., 1920-08-15
By Walter Yust

" Hastily I lespt over after her the
hero remarks casually in the books.
The Indians, bsfHed. retreat. And the
pair, bestride their horses, which Mr.. Smith
probably threw over the cliff before be 1ept,
proceed toward civilization. With never
word Of love-yet. You see, il WASH { proper
out there in the wilds. I buckled her in her
tent nights writes the hero. I treated heI
as reverently as If she had been my sister.
You know the way you buckle in your sister
nights!
You know. Kate be ssys-tor the first
time he calls her 'Kate'-I was thinking
when you were $50 feet down the side Of the
cliff if that rope had broken would have
been very sorry Note the restraint Of that!
And after they unclasp a half hour later,
still bestride the horses, Kate murmun
gently. I also, Alfred. was thinking. ]
would have been sorry, too Then there are
visions of a lot of little Mr.. Smiths and
Miss Middletons running around"
Mr. Leacock either grinned or chucked
that time. I'm not certain which. And
then. you know. people demanded the really
wicked sort that are in the modern msEs-
zines Of today"
The Washington herald., 1920-08-15

HE always called her MISS Middleton.
She always called him MR.. Smith And he
buckled her in her tent nights, said Good
night, MISS Middleton Then he went out
and slept on a cactus bush. You had great
confidence in him. And you knew that when
MISS Middleton got up next morning she
would have had nothing happen to her during
the night.
The pair of them on their way to
civilization on'-that means somewhere east.
They are pursued by Indians They come to
a clif--a sheer drop of 500 feet. Luckily
Mr.. Smith has rope with him wrapped
around his waist. He unwinds 1.-THE whole
800 feet Of it-and tosses it over the cliff.
Climb down. MISS Middleton he urges.
When she's 80 feet down he calls to her,
Don't let go the rope. MISS Middleton
Now, can you imagine any better advice
than that?" Mr.. Leacock asked, interrupt
ing the flow of his words. He speaks with
a faint British touch to his voice. 1t is
merely a suggestion of brogue-it may be
Irish or it may be Scotch.
II won't she invariabl calls back in
those stories, MR.. Smith
The Washington herald., 1920-08-15
By Clara Whiteside

TTOME is a word not easily defined To
IL Hugh walpole it means Cornwall and
a little cottage with a flower garden land
some vegetables, too, in these days" 1t is
home to him because his heart is there. This
was not hard to discover, for his face was
an open page, on which was written, Amer
ica Is all right, but there is no place like
Cornwall" " Should you judge a mans home
20 be where he spends the most time, 1t
would be hard to locate Mr.. Wslpoles, for
Ee divides part of the year between London
and Cornwall and spends what is left in
travelling.
/ talked with him for a few minutes in
between trains on his way up from the South
where he had been fishing and living in the
open for a while. The sun had gwen MIN
q coat Of sunburn hard to believe possible
from the outlook of a bleak late winter day
in Philadelphia. The out of doors and Mr..
Walpole are on very good terms indeed
London holds him for about four months,
but he Is quick to take advantage of every
opportunity that takes him far afeld.
He has two hobbies. One he characterizes
as his great hobby" and the other as his
real n0OOy. his great nOODy is the COL
lection of old and rare editions. His business
is to write books, but be has lots Of fun col
lecting books His library is in two sec
tions, one Is in London and the other in
Cornwall; but the only library he carries
with him when he travels is the store of in =
formation, insight and appreciation he car
ries in his head. But people grip Hugh Wal
pole, too, as well as books and this is one
resson why he is so devoted to travel. He
sees personality in people and individuality
in places, and there is little that is common
place or dull. One cannot forget the things
he writes about nor the people that he makes
alive for you. The reason they make such
a big appeal is because they were so real
to him. Only lately. in speaking of his trip
The Washington herald., 1920-08-15

TT MADE Stephen Leacock smile little
when I asked him whether he wrote his
humorous books, in the very beginning. as
kind Of relief from his research in weightier
economic problems.
Il didn't begin being funny as a recrea-
tion," he grinned. But it just came out
naturally, 1 suppose, say-as a bird sings.
l guess just had to do it."
Stephen Butler Leacock, you remember.
has dignity trailing after his name in
tone like unto that quality in mid Victorian
literature he loves to ridicule The dignity
with the swish and flourish of duchess's
train is 'Ph. D., F. R. s. c., Lift, D.,
Professor of Economics, MatGill Uniyer-
sity, Montreal" It was innocent enough to
Imagine that a person weighed down with
degrees and titles like thoss must be in
need Of some recreation. Whatever the
original cause of his DETECTION from
career devoted solely to economic inves-
tgstion, Stephen Leacock has the look of
q humorist rather than that of a pro-
fessor. And whether he is honest or not
about it, he seems to cOnsftler his books on
economics lightly-after they are pub
Hshed.
Il have never met reader of my eco
nomic works yet,'p he chuckled And |
have about covered the entire globe"
I met Lescock in Chicago. He was
visiting the university on the South Side,
where he did some graduate work years
back, and I forced myself upon him. He is
a short necked, heavy set, informal man,
with a rumple of hair-it appeared sandy
that hangs over his forehead. 1t isn't
very high forehead-ss was previously
stated, he's a humorist. His ruddy face,
with genial wrinkle or two and a stubby
mustsche somewhere in the neighborhood
Of his mouth and splendid crows feet at
the eyes, is an smiable, neighborly face.
IOUR striking points, among others, Mr..
l. Leacock was good enough to pass on for
public consumption; and he hoped not for
public edifcation. He delights, he said.
ito appeal to the simplest minds-though
have never met one of those-giving no
moral precepts or instruction"
Point l. Modern literature will not
suffer any loss through the eighteenth
amendment. Instead of having fumes still
in the hero's BRAIN we will have orange
phosphates gurgling around in his innards'
And that's as picturesque as we could
wish"
Point 2. The whole bag and baggage
The Washington herald., 1920-08-15
By Mary Harrod Northend

CHOULD you happen to De at Windsor,
y Vt. during the summer months II would
nav YOU to cross over the covered toll bridge,
one of the few that is still left in the coun
try. and follow the winding road in Cornish,
Y H., passing by charming summer homes.
until you come to high fence, so high
that you cannot even peer over it. This
makes you wonder concerning the owner and
make up little mystery stories as to why it
is 80 inclosed.
At one side you find gateposts topped with
urns and peering inside you view lawns
and foliage, mighty trees stsnding here and
there. and a charming bit Of country, all
hidden away behind the high fence. This is
the summer home of Winston Churchill, the
author. 1t is not the house which is termed
the show house. but it is remodcled farm
house that makes it most attractive.
1t stands high up on rising land and one
does not wonder when one reaches the crest
of the hill that he chooses this spot away
from the rest of the summer guests. There
are most delightful vistas and restful
charm that can but inspire the gifted writer
to put forth his best efforts.
1t was midsummer when I visited him,
entering the driveway bordered by lilacs and
bridal wreath and winding up the hill until
reached the corner of the house, which
stands on a terrace overlooking undulating
fields bordered by poplars and showing
mountains in the distance.
It was a most charming spot, with a
little garden hidden away at one side just
near enough to the house to be an intimate
garden filled with flowers. n continual sue
cesson of bloom, and favorite resort of
Mr.. Churchill, more especially on a warm
day. Here he comes with his secretary,
sitting under the shade of the pergola at the
further end, listening to the tinkling of the
The Washington herald., 1920-08-15

wrong rooms in hotels Only last week
in New York did. found lady sitting
in chair and reading. said to her, I've
evidently gotten in the wrong room. beg
your pardon She bowed. Ny room is
431. This is 49, 1 said. She bowed again.
It's curious how near alike they make the
Is and 3's in this hotel said. She bowed
once more. They seem to be having a lot
Of trouble ballotins at the Democratic con
vention over In San Francisco l said She
bowed again. And / felt it was time to 60.
But that's all that happened to a man
Of my savoir faire. But in fiction it seems
to be a literary canon that if any man,
despite his usual savoir faire, is found out
side his own room in New York hotel he
must be killed. When the modern hero
enters this woman's room he stops dead and
his breath comes in quick, short pants-a
feat only youthful benhop can perform.
And she rises, fronting him, full There's
= slight ambiguity there, by the way. 1t is
The Washington herald., 1920-08-15
Hugh Walpole, an Adventure Hunter

There are few places left that l have
not visited, and some day l hope to see
them all" he told me. He was leaning
against piano as big as it was ancient,
and he talked as leisurely as though trains
did not run on schedule time and authors had
no itinerary. There is much good comrade-
ship in Hugh Walpole. and perhaps the
record of his life has something to do with it ;
for what man could be insular and unfriendly
who had been born in Australia and lived
his early life in New York; who spends his
summers in Cornwall and his winters in
London and manages to find q few months
out of the twelve in which to travel? He
simply does not want to be a foreigner"
to anybody, but / fancy the fisher folk of
Cornwall know him perhaps better than
most people, for his love of the downs and
sky and sea leads him on many a tramp
through the unfrequented places Of that
end of England, where great stretches
Of rock break up from the soil, to breathe
a bit Of the freshness of the sea and then
drop back again, hidden under the green
and fowered sweetness Of this south
country.
In telling me about his life in Cornwall,
De Sdlu. KNOW dll tHe lns anu outs Oh
Cornwall, because its beauty lured me and
because IOlove to tramp.
Days and days at a time 1 have spent
hunting up new and the many picturesque
spots for which Cornwall Is noted. love to
walk for the fun of the exercise, but in that
part of England, particularly, walking has
an added zest because of the unexpected
and beautiful places one finds on every side
Nothing has been spoiled down there. 1t is
as God made it. and everything that man
has done, instead of detracting from the
general scheme of things, has added to it..
1T is said the natives Of Cornwall are
SO fond of pastries that they utilize every
thing that comes their way in the making
of them; consequently, the Devil himself
is afraid to enter Cornwall for fear he will
be stirred in the pie"
The Washington herald., 1920-08-15
BEING FUNNY LIKE BREATHING TO LEACOCK : By Wal
Despite the Section of the Alphabet Trailing After His Name the Making
Laughter His Trade and He Works Because He Can't Do Owse
tcoDyrisht. 1920. by Public Ledger Coz

overcoat in Nevada ten years ago, Just be-
fore we were married The shooting begins.
Sometimes the husband does the killing,
sometimes the hero, sometimes the heroine.
Sometimes she shoots one of them where he
stands, sometimes where he sits. Sometimes
she kills both of them. Sometimes she
misses.
1.-THE whole kit and crew Of them-wife,
husband, wife of the other man, husband Of
the other woman-ought to be thrown out Of
that tenth story window for good and for
everH'
Mr.. Leacock was very emphatic about
that.
GIT WASN'T SO in the earlier days." he
i said You know the old hero. The
simplest kind of hero he was. 'Dauntess
Ned Among the Cannibals,' leaning against
the babooda tree. Father, in the bookstalls,
wanted to buy book for his son. He idly
The Washington herald., 1920-08-15

turns the leaves of one, spies 'babooda tree.
'Hah! he says, natural history instructive
for the children. He buys the book and at
home reads it to Willie. watching Willie
closely. What's a babooda tree, father
asks Willie. Then Willie gets it.
These heroes are sometimes in the midst
of wild throng of cannibals, waiting to be
boiled. l was reading such story TO a
youngster the other day who. | noticed, lis
tened with tired interest. Isn't this story
interesting, Stephen? l asked. They won't
really boil Ned. He's the hero said Ste
phen. And that's true. You can't boil
your hero and still have him.
Ned, too, you recall, was the center of
all historical events. After two and half
days in the saddle at the battle of Gettys
burg he is still able to turn to General Meade
to say. General, the battle is won And
General Meade answers, If it is, Ned, you
alone have won it,
I'VE find Ned crossing the Delaware. He
has George Washington with him. What do
you see. Ned?' asks Washington. Ice re
turns Ned. If the young republic is saved
today answers Washington, you alone,
Ned. have saved it.'
I'VE have Ned in England. At Runny-
mede. The barons stand on the banks of the
river. The Magma Charta lies on the table.
And King John is wondering whether to sign
il with or without reservations. Ned places
mailed fist on the table. You sign that.
John ! he slowly says. And John does.
Mr.. Henty wrote eighty such volumes
to exploit Ned. But the people tired of him.
As Ella Wheeler Wilcox would say, these
novels lacked the heart interest
0AND there developed the sentimental
"A Victorian hero and heroine. The heroine
is always described 'sylph.' She always
swoons at the word love- If love is men
toned she just ups and swoons. Girls Of
that sort were bound to make trouble. There
is always the pursuit. in these stories. A
titled villain, Lord Rip de yipus, or some
name of the sort, is always busy trying to
make her his But she has one splendid
defense-her own innocence! 1t is a noble
weapon. And I almost forgot, she has one
other weapon. 1t is the hero who can make
speeches. If the heroine with her innocence
isn't cowing the poor titled villain, the hero
with his long speeches is dogginE him. And
there's endless dogging and cowing through
out these interminable novels. For thirty
or forty years readers stood for this.
s0THEN they grew dissatisfied. Such
l. heroes and heroines weren't tough
enough. About 1880 came the open air
type 1t was the,era of Archibald Claverins
Gunter and Marion Crawford. The hero
always tells the story. He is t.
He has had years of bronzing among the
pampas of Patagonia; he learned woodcraf #
from the hoodoos Of the Himalayss. The
scenes are most often laid in the Rocky
mountains, when they were still rocky and
when there wasn't single Swedish turnip
or cabbage west of Omaha. The hero and
heroine are always alone in the heart of
l. the Rockies. But they never need q chap
eron-they are so scrupulously proper.
The Washington herald., 1920-08-15

Of our typical magazine heroes and hero
ines, instead of being shot as they usually
are in the herones room on the tenth foorl
of New York hotel. ought to be pitched
bodily and Immediately out of that tenth
story window, so they'd trouble US no more
Point 3. Il drop this information" he
said, and l knew it was a concession.
judging from the manner in which he
prefaced his remarks, 'as pearl of wisdom
to the uniuitiated Editors today demand
punch. pep and an immediate leap into tine
story. Consequently. instead of anything
leisurely like the time honored. Let us now
introduce to our readers the fair Madeleine
of Oakwood. we must wSite. Get onto this =
or something akin to that. Watch how they
introduce characters in todly's magazines,
Look and see if 80 per cent of next months
fiction doesn't begin with zip. The
man = And the other 10 per cent
will begin. The woman - Further
more, if you want to sell your stories. let
your hero be tuxedo hero who gets drunk
after l a. M. let him have a well tubbed
air and a clean shaven face But, above
all. give him straight legs If you begin.
Edwin. although his legs were little
crOOked--, no modern editor will accent
your story. Have your heroine one of those
women who is too rich to have any other
work, so she must consequently be working
out her own salvation; let her go to the
tenth floor of New York hotel to do II
Let her wear gown that is always cling
ing, and let her sprawl around on divan
like fish. But Chiefest of all. have YOUR
hero and heroine married at the beginning
Of your story and not TO each other"
Point 4. Il deplore the loss to modern
fiction and British poetry of whiskers on
the herO's face. 1t is great loss What
a picture in the old days, All loose his
hoary hair. his beard streaming like
meteor to the naked Winds You can see
the sparks fly. We can't have whiskers in
current fiction; simply because our hero
must have a clean shaven face or be
couldn't put his face close to the hero
ines"
There you have the points"
MR.. LEACOCK discussed modern fiction.
A'1 With the Oncoming of the present cen
tury. readers began to demand something
really wicked in the line of heroes and
heroines," he said.
However, by accident, the hero, drunk,
always enters the room. l have entered
The Washington herald., 1920-08-15

to this country, he said he had been re-
warded BY three things from his trip: The
first is sense of Americas size, the second
an experience Of Americas kindness OIL
heart and the third is a composite picture of
the American. / shall never, until 1 die. get
America out of my blood. Part Of America
is now in me; can love her and hate her
and be loved and hated in return, but can
never again be entirely foreigner
His real hobby, which you may have
guessed, is this quest of adventure, which
takes him away every year to the distant
places of the earth.
Ashland weekly tidings. [volume] (Ashland, Or.) 1919-1924, 1920-02-25

Sheriff Terrill received word Sat
urday from Los Angeles that Goldie
Attott and H. A. Covey of Medford
had been arrested in the California
city for alleged violation of the Mann
act. The arrest was made by fed
eral authorities, it is claimed, on
complaint sworn TO by the girls
father.
Both persons figuring in this case
are well known in Mediord. Covey
is reported to be interested in a bak-
cry there and is said to have a fam
lily. He is reported to have left
Medford about six weeks ago, and is
supposed to be in Spokane. The Alb
bott girl, who is about 20 years of
age, was employed in the bakery as
a waitress, and had left that city
about three weeks ago. Relatives
started search for her, it is stated,
which ended in her being located in
Los Angeles.
Ashland weekly tidings. [volume] (Ashland, Or.) 1919-1924, 1920-02-25

The Ashland Canning company,
owned and operated by NJ. c. and
Bruce Lininger, closed a most sue
cessful season during the past year,
at which they had the largest pack
the cannery has ever produced. The
total value OF their pack reached
S3S,500. During the season they
filled 1000 No. cans; 1899 No
2k cans, and 81 900 No. 10 or gal.
Ion cans.
The number of pounds of the diff.
ferent kinds OF fruits and vegetables
used in the seasons pack were: Ap-
ricots, AIS; apples, 1850; beans,
14,41S;, cherries, 2150; peaches,
125,99S; pears, SG,7O2; plums, 49,
572; pumpkin, $500; tomatoes, 2OO,-
23l. All fruit and vegetables used
in the cannery We're practically home
grown products, for which Messrs.
Lininger paid out $500. For the
labor which was also nearly all EN-
ployed from Ashland they paid
$G50O.
Ashland weekly tidings. [volume] (Ashland, Or.) 1919-1924, 1920-02-25
FRIDAYS NEWS

The ooroner's inquest on the shoot
ing of Lloyd CORDOBA, which occurred
near Hits last Sunday, took place
in the city hall this forenoon. The
inouest was first set for yesterday
morning at 1890, then postponed TO
3 O'Clock in the afternoon on account
of Prosecuting Attorney Roberts be-
ing too busy to get over. He was un-
able to come at that hour, however
so it was postponed again until this
morning. As the prosecuting attor-
ney could not get here then, Coroner
Perl heard the evidence himself.
The jury found on hearing the evi-
dence that Lloyd CORDOBA came to
his death by the accidental discharge
of a gun in the hands of Frank c.
OKelley. Mr. O'Kelley was present
and told a straightforward story. Ac-
cording to the evidence Mr.. O'Kelley
had gone to the CORDOBA ranch Sun
day and had taken along his gun.
This he had leaned against a tree,
when he saw some young boys play
ing near it. Thinking it unsafe for
a loaded gun TO be in the proximity
of young boys, he started to with
draw the shells, when in some man
ner the gun was accidentally dis
charged, ballet striking the CORDOBA
boy, causing death.
Those serving on the jury were A,
McMillin, +. f. Miller, Webster
Wertz, f. F. Smith, f. ], Farlow and
w. NJ. Barber.
Ashland weekly tidings. [volume] (Ashland, Or.) 1919-1924, 1920-02-25
For Sheriff

hereby announce myself a Repub-
lican candidate for Sheriff OF
Jackson county, at the May prl-
maries. Several years experience
in this line of work, including last
six months Of 1919 in the tax col
lection department, thoroughly
qualities me to administer the du-
ties Of the office in an efficient
manner. JOHN B. WIMER.