davidaulloa/AmericanStories huggingface dataset:
The Waterbury Democrat., 1935-03-27

What difference few years can make !! Frank A. Goodwin Massachusetts regis trar of motor vehicles, in recent talk referred to Alfred E. Smith as "the errand boy for Morgan. When you're up you're the tops; when you're down, you certainly get the bumps. Well, at least they'll never write in Al Smiths biography that he kicked at the raw decisions that have been his. He has few friends left. They'll stick to the end ,..,,.
The Waterbury Democrat., 1935-03-27

Civilization is largely a matter of light ing lamps when the suns shining and making fresh air in the basement instead of opening doors and windows.
The Waterbury Democrat., 1935-03-27
Birthdate

You may be interested in den- tistry or sculpture. You must be very careful to avoid. trouble from April 29 through June 5, l935. You should have period of good fortune from December through 15, 1885. Avoid secret worry from April 8 through 30, 1885.
 Socially favorable June 13 through IS, 1885. i
 Write letters or do clerical work April II, IF. and IS, 1885.
 Headers desiring additional inc tOrmatiOa regarding their hOrD- scopes are invited tO communicate with Octaylne ln care Of this news- paper. Enclose < Scent stilDsped self-addressed envelope.
The Waterbury Democrat., 1935-03-27
IN TO-DAY'S MAIL

to
 ~ spa % res sposi%s bic % @ ~
The Waterbury Democrat., 1935-03-27

c. How many religious cults are there in the world, and in the United States?
 A. Mark Twain in What is Man?" said that there are about two thousand religious cults and denominations in the world. The 1926 U. s. census of religious bodies listed 215 denominations in this country.
The Waterbury Democrat., 1935-03-27

O. What chemical changes oc- cur when sweet cider is exposed to air and what kind of acid Is formed?
 A, When exposed to the air sweet cider first turns hard. as the yeast in it's converts the sugar to alcohol. If hard cider is allowed to stand, it is converted into vine- gar, by the action of mother-of- cinegar, composed of myriads of bacteria. The active principals of vinegar is acetic acid, which varies in amount from to 10 per cent or more. Cider vinegar contains traces of malic acid from the ap- pies.
 O. Who is the present claimant to the throne of the Hapsburgs in Austria and Hungary, and where does he reside?
 A. The present claimant is Prince Otto, son of former Empress
The Waterbury Democrat., 1935-03-27
TODAY's COMMON ERROR Never say, "My wife and my-
 self will go"; say "My wife
 and I will gO."

Zita and the late Emperor Charles I. He now lives at Steenockerzeel castle, near Brussels, Belgium.
The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1935-04-20
The War Released
Women and Girls

The war released women and
girls from sheltered homes, re-
lieVed them of fear, gave them
the freedom of the streets. It
eliminated chaperonS, crashed
conventions, demolished taboos.
1t put them in uniforms, bobbed
their hair, tilted cigarets in their
newly painted lips; hurled bat.
talions of them overseas to face
front lines-and even more en-.
tightening experiences.
Most revolutionary Of all, the
war asked women to take over
mems jobs pro tenn. But just let
any woman do something she
wants to do, pro tenn, and then
try to make her quit! There'd
been a trickle of women workers
in 1908; substantial stream in
1914. Now they came in a tidal
wave! And the men. returning
from overseas to resume their old
activities, went down before them.
Here was a strange new sex.
Hard, where once it had been
shrinking soft. Brutality realistic,
where once it had been .senti'
The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1935-04-20

World Didn't Appreciate a Great
Soul. Cried a little over it.
Then gave myself much-needed
kick and tackled Art again.
Somebody don't know who
told me that a man named Lewis
Allen Browne sold stories in New
York. / wrote to him. He wrote
to me. He took, and-incredible
miracle!-sold some OF the most
awful tripe that ever gummed a
linotype machine.
And then, out Of his scanty
time, he poured out priceless ad-
vice and encouragement! Orchids
to you'll. A. B.-gardinias, car
nations, the whole damn conser-
vatory! You were-you are-the
grandest human that ever gave
the lie to the tradition Of Broad
ways cruelty.
Slowly I felt my way along. I
didn't know how to write. I didn't
know what to write about. But I
did know something about people.
knew the emptiness, the color
lessness of their lives. I knew
their secret hungers. I wrote
for those hungers. Literally, =
first.
Good recipes Good HouSkeep-
ing bought them. Poems. Awful!
One landed in Physical Culture
Magazine! Prayers. Love stories.
CWhat was love?) Descriptions.
Impassioned pleas for Labor.
Shrill indictments of Capital.
(Golly, how 1 wished I had
someD Slowly, doggedly, for
four years - still without the
slightest idea, or even ambition,
that / might some day be a
writer, I 'rasSled with words.
For the last of the four years
spent in Hornitos did not
mind. My stuff was beginning
to sell. 1t brought in at the
most about $50 month. But to
us, that was a fortune. Maybe,
some day, I would be a writer,
make even $50 month!
Wild, rosy dreams! With the
usual result. Suddenly, without
warning, my world fell to pieces.
The postwar confusion began.
Money was too CLANCY to be
risked on holes in the ground.
The mine closed down. The men
went away and, came out Of the
hills.
1851 was 35. George was
IA. For nearly four years we had
been out of the world. We owned
only the clothes we stood in.
Mentally, physically, we were
as out of joint with city life as
Rip Van Wrinkle. But the desert
was through with us. We had to
go back. To what? We didn't
know. But the road went west.
The rafting old stage was wait
ing.
The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1935-04-20
The Photograph

We had an old cracked phono-
graph. Gradually my assorted
assembly of outlaws, broncho-
busters, mine,salterS, stock float.
erS and vagabonds extraordinary
accumulated records according to
their fancy. And what might
that fancy be?
What might a gent with three
hicks to his gun and police war
rants sprinkled like confetti over
his trail, prefer in the way of
musical refreshment on a night
when the moon floats like a
bubble above a silver sea, and
the coyotes zip and yammer
along the mesa trail?
Some wild sea chanty; a lusty
hunting song; that barroom de-
light, FRANKIE and Johnny?
No: you've guessed wrong again.
Real hair on Professionalism
on-the-cuff Three Nickers are just
crazy about "Silver Threads Among
the Gold" Homicides over so are
apt to pout If they can't have
Loves Old Sweet Song" And as
an all-around favorite nothing can
beat There's a Wee Hoose Mang
the Heather"
There's wee hooSe 'mang the
heather ;"
(There was, indeed, And most
Of them hadn't paid taxes on II
since the noon train went East.)
"There'S a wee hooSe e'er the sea,
There's a laSSle in that wee hoose
waiting patiently for me :"
The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1935-04-20

Z doubt II we ever were. But
.@rta inly since women began 60
ing in for all these Wide-open-
spa IS in their modes n man
oers men have become so blase
thai a girl has to use hypnotism,
and maybe little ether, to get
them even to look her Way-much
less make passes at her.
AS for the prevalent wifely
notion that all men need man.
aging, the great trick is to find
3 'eally lively unmanageable one.
Naturally, every lady likes 'em
violent. I was no exception.
Time and again I've set my heart
On some huge hairy he male with
the fond hope that he'd heave
me around, beat me up regularly,
break my proud spirit and pep
LII. life in general.
Only to find that he expected
ne to select his neckties, admire
his salads, write his lodge
speeches and shave his neck!
But though he rarely qualities
as q villain, the average male of
the species is good egg and we'll
worth the investment. Trust him
and he'll do his best to be loyal
to you. ellis conception of 10y.
atty may differ somewhat from
yours, but where's your proof
that yours is 100 per cent cor
rect?) Platter him, and he'll
break his neck to live up to it..
Give him your Whole-hearted love
and he'll usually make you feel
like 80 cents by putting you in a
shrine and worshiping you for
ever after.
This-and much, much more
did I learn about men as we all
sat together at night beside that
camp fire. How clearly it all
comes back. The brooding sky,
star.Spangled; the uneasy moan
ing of a distant herd, camping
for the night along the creek;
the sudden muffled booming Of
an owl: and, small and bright,
that little core of flame with
dark, Scared faces walling it
around.
What did I mean to those
faces, what did they mean to me,
in that place which was so far
beyond the law that we could
have done anything we wished?
What did we do in those passion.
ate purple nights? I'll tell you
what we did. Tell you frankly,
fully, without reserve.
They Played
The phono1ruDh
The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1935-04-20
She Was Driven
BY Grim Need

I had lived as a man, worked
as a man, known only men for
years. I should, therefore, have
belonged to this era of emanci-
pated women. But I didn't. They
were utterly alien to me and 1 to
them. I didn't know why. I could
see the outward changes but I
was too dazed, in those first
months, to realize what lay be-
hind me. I only knew that, at
IS, I was a woman without a sex.
Just an old-fashioned gal at heart
with no world I could call my
own.
Laugh that off if you can! It
took me 10 years to laugh it off.
I'm not sure have done so yet.
However, it is only the rich who
can linger over the luxury Of
psychoanalySiS. The poor have to
eat. And we were poor. So where
did we get the makings?
I borrowed $50 from one of
my mining gang. We moved
into a shabby, floor-leVel apart
ment where the cable cars roared
past the window, night and day.
The boy went to bed, gasping, to
stay for months-hiS hard-Won
mountain vigor wiped out in 48
hours by city fog and CRIME.
And I went out to pound pave
ments, looking for any job that
would keep us alive. But what
could I possibly do that would
bring us even a starvation wage?
Cook? Sew? Scrub floors? I
could do and was willing to do
any of these but the city Swarmed
with younger women who seized
every chance. Take an office po-
sition? These, too, were over
crowded. Moreover. outside of my
ability to type, 1 had no knowl-
edge of office work; could hardly
add a column of figures. So
what?
The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1935-04-20

"a lasSie? I'll say there was!
Two or three of them, all armed
with Summonses! And if my lads
saw them before the Judgment
Day, that would be just too soonD
Nevertheless, there they sat,
blinking back a sudden mist Of the
eye, choking down a sudden raSp
in the throat, while their cigar
ends dimmed, went cold--and an
old dream turned, like q rusty
knife, in the hearts they thought
were dead!
The darlings! Am 1 laughing at
them? am, but I'm laughing
with tears in my eyes. Where are
they all now? Scattered, gone:
some on that long trail where I
must shortly follow. But, where
ever you are, my dears, my CRATE
full heart is remembering. How
good you were to me, how tender
to my little lad, how fiercely loyal
to us both in our great need!
The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1935-04-20
She Tried in Vain
To Get a job

So I tried to write. But litera-
ture-without education, training,
talent or connectionS-iS q slow
job. The publishing houses and
magazines were all In New York.
There were newspapers in San
Francisco. But I hadn't the re-
hottest idea what newspaper work
implied. However, as a spur to
initiative had the best incentive
on earth-hunger. And the sight
of my boys white face. I could
stand the hunger. But-damn it,!
Il couldn't, Wouldn't, stand that
waiting whiteness.
So maybe could write ads. I
had never written an ad. But I
had read them. knew what pec-
pie wanted when they read an ad
and what they so seldom found.
They wanted more than a record
of Things, and the price of
Things. They wanted an Adven-
ture. Something that would open
door from their colorless and
cramped existenceS into new
beauty and hope and excitement.
Something that would dramatic
them.
My life was colorleSs and
cramped, too. 1 had never known
romance. was painfully conscious
that was homely, clumsy, over.
sized.
had, to be sure, a mind, or the
rudiments of one. But what good
does that do a woman? Just
makes her queer. OF course, since
God had given me a mind I'd use
it. But I never kidded myself that
The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1935-04-20
Nursed Her
Through Illness

There was that blouse you all
bought for my birthday. How long
was it since I'd worn anything but
that patched flannel skirt? Two
years, three? Long enough so that
my thin shoulders had Widened
to stevedore breadth: my school.
girl" complexion had toughened
to raWhide. And you bought me
a Shell-pink chiffon, Paris model,
size "a!
And there was that time I was
so sick from poiSoning-too far
gone to know how you took turns
sitting there through the blind
days, the raving nights, keeping
the ice on me which you rode, in
constant relays, 20 miles to get.
When I'm dying I'll remember
your faces the hour I woke-and
saw the dozen wilted, yard-long
American Beauties you had sent
Pete racing for to San Francisco.
Three hundred miles, there and
back! Dear lads, if I'd only had
words to thank you, instead of
those silly tears!
How does lone, helpless Wom-
an get along in the wilderness
with all those bad, bold men?"
That's how she gets along-if she
wants to. For believe it or not,
no woman needs brass knuckles
to cope with the average man,
in or out of the wilderness. She
has something far stronger TO
protect her; she has mans own
ideal of women-that shining
ideal that persists despite all Sor.
didnesS. Oddly enough, a man is
fully as much concerned over q
Woman's decency as she Is herself.
Often more so!
What happened to me on the
desert? Comradeship happened
to me. And If there is a finer
thing on earth, I do not know 1T.
However, do not gather from
this that life after working hours
was one long Chautauqua. Socia-
bility is always an on-again-osf.
again thing in the wilderness.
Now you have 1t: now you don15 =.
There were long, Storm-ridden
weeks when work was laid off and
the boys and I were alone with
each other; weeks when I'd have
to try to remember what life with
people had been like.
What Could She
Do in a City?
The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1935-04-20
Returning to City After
the War Elsie Found
a Changed World
WHAT HAS HAPPENED

In the foregoing chapters of her Vivid marratve Elsie
Robinson tells of childhood days IN Benicid California
Wkere life hard and rugged. When girl reached II
she married.
Elsie wGnted than that. She pOGnted to know and
feel everything life had to offer; she amted out! So at
nineteen she sOemt to Vermont to marry young New Eng
lander.
Lack of understanding kept Elsie and her husband apart
They really became Life drudge. Elsie
felt sttIed, chained to her household tasks.
In the outside eOorId becoming people! She
declares that Neu England Puritamis and Intolerance
covered by cloak uhick they called their Religion
"EVerything you did aCGs O SIM"
In 1885, when you married and 49, it means usually
joyous honeymoon, bat not IN 1908 If you married Nev
England Puritan.
TO relieve the omotomy Elsie started sOrng 1t proved
outlet for her EMOTIONS.
Then her baby born, physically rOeak boy bat she
and her husband not drGUn any closer together By
the event.
She Oent back to California and for three gears tried to
make vHg Then she 1Oent to HOtos IN the desert and
qCorked at manual labor gold mining for four gears.
The desert life agreed Oith her boys health. She the
Only IN the camp but the respect of the men,
Her husband divorced her false charges.
The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1935-04-20

world with which had had no
contact for four wilderness years?
Facing those twin horrors, lone
illness and fear of the future, I
turned to the one Solace which
had never failed me through the
years-writing. At first I wrote
as I always had written, talking
to myself, trying to explain things
to myself. destroying the words
as soon as they were written.
1t was like q difficult game,
trying to catch the sense and
SAVIOR of things in words. The
sting of sweat; the horror of heat;
the incredible beauty of the still,
white stars after the racked day
could I make these things live
again on paper? And could I,
by doing it, keep my own soul
alive? So 1 wrote, at first, for
the challenge of the thing.
CHAPTER XVII
I grin today when I read re.
quests from ambitious youngsters
asking how they shall begin writ
ing, or Whines from tempera-
mental oldsters who complain
that their genius is being frus-
trated because they can't have
"the proper conditions for writ
ing" Proper conditions? IWon-
der what they are. It's a cinch
I never have known them.
How did I start writing? After
everything else was done. With
1880, was on my way to work,
hiking in mining boots. Four
miles out to the mine from the
shack where lived. Nine hours,
then, behind a WheelbarroW, pick
or pan. Four miles back-stag.
gering, stumbling through the
dust and the still blazing heat.
Then supper to cook, dishes to
wash, lessons to hear, a little boy
to tuck into bed. After that,
sitting on a kerosene can, bending
over a packing box, I wrote by
candlelight on wrapping paper.
For the challenge of the thing
at first. Then, as fear OF the
future began to loom darker
ahead, I went at it in earnest. I
had learned a little about words.
1 could make crude sketches. Per
haps there might be money, some
day, in that.
The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1935-04-20
What Could She
Do in a City?

And during those weeks, some
thing more grim than loneliness
had to be faced-the Future. I
couldn't stay in the mines forever.
Some day we'd have to leave, so
Sonny could go to school. What
then? Comparatively easy to live
in the hills where rent and gro
Gerry bills hardly exiSted-and a
pair of overaIls was a complete
wardrobe, But when we went
back to the city?
What could do in a city?
What chance had 1 in a rushing
The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1935-04-20
Middle-Aged and No
Start Made Yet

For a long moment 1 stood
looking back from the fork in the
trail. Like golden islands, lost
in a dream, the rounded hills
floated against the green sunset
sky. For long moment the SUM-
set fires Streamed-and then were
gone. A killdee called, was still.
The sky went gray, then dark.
Blindly, through tears, I felt for
my boys hand. And we went away
from there.
Thirty-five. Middle-aged! No
start made yet. Nothing saved.
Now, for the third time, my life
was breaking up-and there was
nothing to show for the years.
For all the battle and adven.
ture, the heartbreak and Sacri-
flee, there was nothing to show
except the boy. And this bit of
wisdom. Though I could not
prove it by bank roll, Social Reg
lister, or position in Who's Who,
I had learned that:
Life Is worth anything it
costS-Gnd it neUer pays to
look back.
Often during these depression
years have seen middle-aged
men and women facing life as I
faced it that day in 1915 deSti-
tute, desperate, with seemingly
nothing to sustain them. And
have tried to hand on that code
which saved me when the trail
seemed at an end; which still
saves me when I want to lag or
turn back:
LIES a great business. Not
always a safe or comfortable
business, rarely a pleasant bust.
ness, but always great. And
Life, in its greatness, may be
The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1935-04-20
Rare understanding
OF Human Pain

Gingerly I began. I had never
studied writing, never known a
writer. 1 hadn't the faintest idea
how salable writing was done. 1
was too poor even to buy a book
Of instructions. But somewhere
had heard that manuscripts must
be typewriter. had never
owned a typewriter, never watched
a typist at work. But one of the
finest women I have ever known
came to my aid.
She was a NegreSS. Her name
was Leola Rodgers. Her father
had been an amazing man-an ex-
slave who became q sort OF EN-
peror Jones along the Mother
Lode in early mining days. His
daughter had inherited his re-
markable intelligence and cour-
age. She had grown up in a
charming. gentle Italian family
the Gagliardos. Kinder hearts
never lived than those that lay
beneath the olive beauty of Min
ME and Jennie Gagliardo, and
the dark dignity of Leola Rodgers.
Leola should have run an EN-.
pire, instead of a few hundred
miles of wilderness. Was it some
hidden memory of jungle power
and slave agony that gave her
such rare understanding Of
human pain, such astounding
efficiency in ministering to it?
Whatever the reason, she an
swered my needs before I knew
them myself. From somewhere
she conjured up an ancient type.
writer and some charts for the
"touch system" And told me to
go to it. I went to it. I liter
ally rolled up my sleeves and
sailed in, having first tied a
towel over my eyes as per direc-
tons. In two weeks could type
my own manuscripts.
SloUly She Felt
H. w.. ALL
The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1935-04-20

age to take it. But remember,
for every step you take ahead
of the herd, you'll have to
stand beating from those who
want to Play Safe and Stand
Pat. So what? So if you
can't take it, don't start. II
you do start, thank God, for
the chance and keep going!
You'll suffer plenty. You'll
make mistakes. You'll fail your
self and others-and others
will fail you. Be sensibly
sorry, when necessary, and
healthily angry. Then forget
it! Don't let yourself linger
over old grief, remorSe or re-
sentiment. You can't go for
ward if you keep looking back.
Lots wife tried it-With the
inevitable result. She turned
to a pillar of salt. So will you,
if you try to mix your Yester-
days with your TomorroWS.
My boy, some warming memo
ries, a little philosophy-that's
all took with me out OF my
mining years. Yet, strangely,
that was to prove enough to help
us make the grade. But not
until we had gone through ter
rible things.
CHAPTER XVIII
I came back to San Francisco
Just before the armistice, to a
changed world. In the spring OF
1915, when left San Francisco,
it had still borne the mark OF
those pioneer days in which I had
been born. Now that mark was
gone.
There was a new city--which
stared at me with amazed, amused
eyes as I strobe up Market Street
in mining boots and MackinaW.
Outwardly, was poker-faced, hav'
ing learned that art in many a
blackjack game. 1nWardly, I was
beWildered, terrified.
Everything was changed in this
new world: sky line; traffic;
tempo. But most of all the women
were changed-these astounding
mobS of women, so swift, so sleek,
so sophisticated and competent
and, as I was presently to discover,
so cussed if crossed! What had
happened to them-to everything?
The answer was simple enough:
the World War had happened,
But to us in the wilderness, the
World War had been only dis
tant thunder, a chance newspaper
column of unbelievable horrors,
unreal as any nightmare. ! had,
to be sure, rolled 5andages; had
given Buy-a-Bond ballyhoos, caiol.
ing a cool thousand ont of a grin.
ming audience, third of it in mug
gets. One of the prospectors even
paid in gold dust-the last, I'll
wager, that ever changed hands
on the Mother Lode.
Yet the war had never become
a living issue to me. OF its eff.
feet on life in general, and on
women in particular, I had not
the slightest conception.
Now came back. And if I had
landed on Mars, the change would
not have seemed greater. Here
were women who, four years be-
fore, would timidly have asked
their fathers, husbands or big
brothers If they could step out to
a movie with Nellie. Now they
were living in bachelor girl apart
ments, experimenting in affairs"
going wherever they pleased, with
Whomever they pleased, at any
hour-and laying their own way.
There was the crux of it all: they
were paying their own way.
The war had done that-the
war added to suffrage and the
machine age. But it was the war
which worked the final trick. The
war did far more to the women
of America than it did to the
men-and history has yet to prove
whether the thing it did was good
or bad.
The War Released
Wo~~~~u ~I I'll