Evening Star Newspaper, November 27, 1921, Page 71

THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C, OVEMBER 27, 1921—PART 4. ' LOVE NESTING WITH BARRY—# seweit Ford THE RAMBLER VISITS NOVITIATE AND NORMAL SCHOOL AT AMMENDALE, MD. OU goin' out with that Platt —again asks' Inez, here the other Sunday afternoon s she watches me get- € ting ready. “Well, why not?” says 1. “He has a perfectly good car, hasn’t he? That i if you say it quick and don't mind a few weird noises from the motor. And you know, Inez, while Barry may not be gifted with the romantic type of beauty which you admire in your he-vamps of the screen, he isn't exactly poisonous.” “Huh!” says Inez, shrugging her magnificent shoulders. “Meaning what, for instance +If I was talk-actress,” says she, have more than one feller comin’ around.” “Naturally you would,” says I “But then, I'm no _home wrecker. ~There are very few males of the species who are apt to go crazy over my gooseberry green eves and my near-henna hair. No. But Barry doesn’t seem to mind my color scheme. Besides, he's rather a pally sort of person. Says some awfully clever things, at times, and appears to appreciate my little stabs at humor. So we get on rather well together. That elps a lot, you know." Inez blinks twice, indicating @ sudden spasm of thought. “You—you marry him some eh? she asks. “Say, you don't n time, d asking personal and pertinent questions, do you. Inez dear?” says I. “Well, listen, and Tl ip you the great secret. Are you all dnez nods that she i “Then I'll tell you.” savs I. “To be quite frank, I don't know.” Tnez simply stares at me. She can't conceive a state of mind like that. When it comes to men, she's a prompt decider. he either likes 'em a lot, or she don't like "em at all. And if one of the favored ones should ask her to be his'n she’d probably hand him his hat } and lead him down to the license bu- reau before she shifted her gum again. * kK k% S for me. what I've seen in the glass has always given me the hunch that of course I was due to be an old maid, so it's going to take a lot of arguing to get me switched on the matrimonial main line. And 1 don’t expect to run across many entries as persistent as Barry Platt. About once a week he manages to state his case in one way or another. | ot that ne knee he's always dropping on and pouring forth tender sentiments. I understand that's old stuff. It isn't done any more. No. Barry isn't the mushy kind And he's clever about it. As a gen- eral thing his line is to throw on the screen some appealing little pic- ture of domestic bliss and then edge in with a wistful look or perhaps a ntle hint. 10 a show window where they're dem- onstrating an electric waffle iron. or telling me about some new four- room studio apartment he's discov- ered, or saying how tired he's getting of life in a prunery. And every time the arrow points to one thing. You kno ‘A little home of our own It's a trick you can't hate him for exactly. In fact, it's almost soothing, when things are breaking bad and the weather’s rotten and your female iriends turn catty, to feel that some- where within hailing_distance is a man who thinks you're better than vour best press notices and stands ready to come to you on the run any time you give hin a ring, like a fireman jumping for the brass pole when a night alarm géts turned in. Not that I use my subtle business in stringing him along. I've tried to make it plain to Barry just where T stand on this to-have-and-to-hold proposition. We've threshed all that out more than once, and he knows well enough, or ought to.-that before T tie up to any party of the second part I mean to have a go at seeing what Trilby May Dodge can do for herself all by her lonesome. It's an idea I've always had, even when 1 was just a.kid back in the dreary old home near Tamarack Junction, where my chances of ever getting out of Minnesota looked about as slim as that Lake Superior would one day turn around and empty into Hudson bay. 1 used to watch the passenger trains bearing down from the range, especially with all the coaches lighted up, and whisper to myself. “Never mind. -old girl, some time or other you'll climb aboard one of those cars and it will take you whara you really belong. Well. T've got this far. Whether New York is the chosen spot or not I'm not sure as yet. I've got no mortgage on the town so far. But 1 must say I'm further along than I ever dreamed I should be. And I can see my.chance of making good. Of course. I don't kid myself that I have a strangle hold on fame and fortune now. Hardl; Play- ing the lead in a little Greenwich Vil- Iage theater and in a piece that's liable to be taken off any time if the houses get slmmer mn't putting me in a class with Ethel Barrymore or Maud Adams, And it was too recently that I climbed onto the stage through a trapdoor, as you might say, for me to forget all the Jucky chances which landed me there. Rut it's a place to jump from, and I'm not quite ready to hop down and into a kitchenette, even if Barry Platt has got nice eves and a winning smile. * ok ok X +««QORRY, Barry 1 told him, *“but let's hang that matrimonial stuff on the hook and be just good pals.” “Anything you say, old dear,” says ‘@0 long as 1 can keep sticking around.” And then the next thing 1 know he'll te wanting me to look over the plans of a little house an architect friend of “SHE'S STUPID, THAT'S ALL” .SAYS MRS. TOWER. “AND THEN PAUL TRIES TO TELL HER HOW THE VARIOUS THINGS WORK, AND SHOWS HER WRONG.” Like steering ‘me up| the plot while the house was going up. So did_the little wife, too. She was Jane Kellogg, you know, who used to do the household arts page in the Sunday, and if there's any new wrinkle about domestic machinery that she isn't up on. it must have been invented yesterday. So With two such people as that on the job the house they have produced must be a corker." “Sort of a last word, eh?’ I sug- gests. . “That's the Idea.” says Barry. “As Paul_explains it to me. it's a house beautiful that can be lived in. While he looked after the classic lines and the practical arrangement of the in- ABOUT ONCE A W SK HE MA ES TO STATE HIS CASE IN sort of Idyllic stuff. No steam heat for us until we were forced to start the furnace. No. Just the good old log fire. And when this last snappy spell came on we went to it strong. I laid up a perfect corker, with a big oak stick for 2 back-log and plenty of pitch pine kin- dling to get it going. Then one ewen- ing 1 touched the thing. Wowey!" I take It,” says Barry, “that the oN WAY OR ANOTHER. terior, Jane designed her own kitchen and laundry. So they not only hav a studio atrium with a north.li for their living room. and a Kentish-| ~“Must be” says Barry. throwing thatch shingled roof and such archi-|the swivel spotiight nd. “Yes, | tectural tricks, but they have a|there’s the number he gave thoroughly electrified housekeeping outfit.” asks. says he, “Paul tells me that Jane has had installed every known electrical device for making hou work u joy instead of a drudgery So her one maid can do nearly every thing by just pushing buttons and turning switches. For instance, na dish washing. They have an electri¢ machine for that. No ice man. They make their own ice in cute little cube: ‘Washinzg? That's no longer a I know,” 1 breaks in. “I demonstrated an electric washer for three weeks. you remember, Barry: but some of those women would in- sist on asking me if it wasn't just as much work hanging the clothes out on cold windy mornings as ever. “Ah!" says Barry, ‘but the Towers have an electric drying cabinet, too; and an electric wringer and mangle. There" a vacuum cleaner connection in every room. so there's no sweeping or dusting, and all their cooking is done on an elec- tric range. Everything right up to the minute, 1 tell you, and vet all so dainty and artistic. Paul tells me he finished every bit of the interior woodwork inm- self.” No paint. Everything is stained in soft tints and then treated with a wax dressing. He’s been asking me for months to run up and see them. Thought you might be interested in a house like that, Trilby May. so | made is supper date. Hope you'll not be Oh. overds the very well I'm not_easily i somebody has built a really {home sweet home I want to see it. sa. act. You know bored, and if perfect 1 promise to rave over everything—bar- ring the electric washer. They ought to be fairly happy, those two, in a house like that.” “I'll bet they are,” says Barry. “Don’t think I ever knew a couple who seemed more congenial: that is, unless you'd allow me to—" * says 1. *It's sweet of you to think so, Barry, but let's leave us out. humility And if we're going to get anywhere for supper hadn't we better be getting un- der way?" . * k% ¥ T IME means very little in his voung life. Not if he can sit around somewhere and chat about things that “Don't | | love nest has a staging on one side of it. “Sure this is the one" 1 “It_doesn’t look finished to me: he said, too, that I'd know outside stone chimney. B can see a light in the front hall For once he was right. This was where the Paul Towers lived, and the man who answered Barry's hammer- ing on the wrought iron door knoc was none other than the great Sunday editor_himself. EBut he didn’t appear draped in the brown monk’s frock sandals that Barry said he al wore at home. Instead he had on a new ulster with the collar turned up, a woolen cap and fur-lined bed slip- pers. Somehow it didn’t strike me as just the costume for a host who expected supper guests. But Barry doesn’t seem to notice that at first. “Hello-ello-ello!” Barry sings out cordial. “We got here, you see, and— Oh. I say, old man! Not going out, were you?" Who the deuce is it?” Mr. Tower, peering out at us. And when Barry has explained who we are. and introduced me, the response is a groan. “Don’t tell me I've made a mis- take in the night,” says Barry. “If I have, and you were just starting for somewhere—" 0. no.” says Mr. Tower. “I may look as though I was just off for a dash to the pole. but I'm planning nothing of the sort. Merely trying to keep from freezing to death at my own fireside. And I may as well admit that 1 had forgotten all about your coming." “Well. T like that!" says Barry. “You'll forgive me when you know all” says his friend. “Come in and demanded hear our tale of woe. Keep your wrap on, though. Just a moment until T call Jane. bhall we,” whispers Barry as we're left alone in the front hall, “or had we better beat it? “Oh. let's solve the mystery,” says I And when Mrs. Tower was led in from the Kitchen, all bundled up in a fur coat, we soon got the horrible detail “It's all because I wasn't an expert on flues,” says Mr. Tower. “Eh?" says Barry. 3 “The kind they put in chimneys.” goes on our host. “The square things :_hlcy're lined with. Look like drain iles. his is drawing for a Long Island pro- ‘motion company, and asking me if I wouldn't have lattice windows off the sleeping porch if it was for me. So when he shows up on this particu- tar afternoon, all primed to take me up into Westchester county for a pick-up at the home of Paul upper "l’ower. his ole Sunday editor, I knew to expect. ‘”‘"‘N’l' house, isn't it?" I asked. admits, enthusiastic, that it is and adds that it must be very cute and artistic, for Mr. Tower has not only said 0 himself, but has exhibited snap- shets to prove it. 3 «“Showing clipped bay trees guarding the front door and a flower box under fake-attic window?” I asked. theNo, no,” says Barry. -No ginger- bready stuff like that. This is the real thing, for Paul Tower Is one of these particular, finicky persons ¥ho honestly knows what's what. Made a stu@y of modern housing methods and all that sort of thing, besides having excellent taste. Didn't buy fhis ready built from the promoterg you know. Nothing like that. He had it worked out from his own ideam and almost lived on It's the best thing Barry daes, you count his knack for soothing people he's kept waiting an hour or more. He gets away with mur- der along that line, and mainly by springing that smile at just the right moment. When' I'm included in the party, thdugh, I manage to have him run somewheére near schedule, so we landed out at this Chester Heath sub- urb shortly after 7 p.m. in spite of the wild hunt we had to find it. Why, even a post road traffic cop not half a mile from the place had ever heard of it. He could tell us how to get to New Haven, or to Albany, or to White Plains, but Chester Heath wasn’t on his map at all. “It's a new residence park,” explains Barry “Sure!" says the cop. ‘“Maybe it's been laid out since 1 went on post.” And when we finally stumbled on it by ‘getting lost in a tangle of newly paved streets where houses. were being run up in all stages of construction, it did look almost as recent as that. You could smell varnish and shavings in the air, and I'll bet if there was any special odor to second mortgages you couid have smelled that, too. Even the house that Barry picks out as the Towers' Oh, yes!” says Barry. “I saw some piled up by the front porch.” * X K X ««PRECISELY,” says Tower. “Well, those are 8x12's. That's the size we should have had in our chimney, and didn’t. Instead we had cute little ones 5x8's. And I stood around last summer and saw that fool mason put them in. That's the tough part, Barry. I thought I knew so much about house building, too. Just because I could tell the difference between Tudor and Nor- man, and was up on Gothic lines and Dutch ysnelln{; Yet 1 was poor prune enough to think that a fireplace with an opening flve feet by four would get along with any oid kind of a flue. But it didn’t, 3 < “Smoked, eh?” suggests Barry. ‘Let me turn on the lights and show you,” says Tower. “You see, Jane and I had planned this whole house around our fireplace. We were going to spend our evenings here, gaxing into flickering logs, roasting potatoes in the kot ashes, popping corn over the . coals—all that ‘| with a suggestion of his own. smoke failed to go up the chimney as it _shoul “It went everywhere but up," say Tower. “It puffed out, belched o poured out. Inside of ten minutes every room in the house was full of it and ‘we were almost choked. We opened all the { doors and windows and it rolled out into the cvening air in great blue clouds. Of course, kind neighbors saw it and rung in a fire alarm. Perhaps you know how these suburban fire fighters are. Am- bitious chaps. I tried to argue with the local chief when he came bursting in our front door with the nozzle of a chemical hose. We had quite a lively little scrimmage. He won. You can still see some of the chemical stains cn the tilings and rugs. But he doused our fire, all right. “I should have quit at that. T didn’t, though. Jane insists that 1_was stub- born about it. Perhaps. But I still thowght I could build a fire that wouldn’t smoke. Maybe the chimney hadn’t thoroughly dried out, or I should have started with a small blaze. Well, 1 tried again, with a handful of kin- dling. More smoke. But we didn’t dare open the windows. We choked and stood it. I pushed the fire clear to the back. That- didn't help. Neither did building it in one corner. The smoke just curled around and billowed out at us. So I called up the contractor and told him about it. He sent around Tony, the mason. who built the chimney Pic- j turesque chap, Ton{'. Cheerful, too. Perhaps he'd helped lay up brick walls in Italy before he came over here. But inot many, I'm sure. Anyway, this was Tony's first fireplace. He said 'as much. He's quick to learn, however. He'd built several fireplaces since then and all that had been tried up to date had acted the same w They'd smoked. | “Da damflue, datta troub!" says Tony. [ “I feex him for you. queek!" | “The quicker the sooner, Tony." says I “Go to it.” Well, he's been at it nearly a week now. See the mortar that has been ground ‘into our eak floor? That was trapped in by Tony and his helper while they were ripping the front of the chimney out downstairs. He's accomplished that much. But up- stairs in our bedroom the havoc is still going on. Come have a look. “Huh says Barry. a siege.” It wasn't a bad description. torn in the chimne: “And meanwhile,” removed part of the furnace flue as well, 50 we can have neither steam heat nor the fireplace to warm us up. He discovered that little mistake yes- terday, just as he was quitting work. So you find us in tae kitchen, ho\@-- ing around the electric range. Eut really, when it comes to warming you, it's a poor substitute for the old- fashioned wood stove “But do show us all your elec- trical appliances,” T urged. * X kX «(~ERTAINLY,"” says Mrs. Tower. “Those are still intact. That is, all but the electric dish washer. Hilda managed to do something to that the other day which put it out of commission, but the electrician will ‘flx it up as soon as we can induce him to come around. Anyway, here it is.” Then we made a tour and inspected the other labor-saving _machines. They all looked shiny and new and efficient. But Mrs. Tower admitted that Hilda was afraid to use the vacuum cleaner since she’d had a slight shock from a poor connection. And it came out that Hilda wasn't {quite successful in handling the electric range, either. Some things she burned to a _crisp, and other things she couldn't Bem to cook more than half through. “She’s stupid, that's all.” says Mrs. Tower. “And then Paul tried to tell her how the varfous things work-and shows her wrong. 3 “Oh, naturally, it's my fault,” says Mr. Tower. They were having guite a hot little spat about it when Barry crashed ln tell yo folks,” says he. ‘We've picked a poor time to camp down on you for supper. It wasn’t exactly our fault and I'm sure it wasn't yours, either. So let's all pile into my car and drive over to Primrose Heath Inn for a real good shore dinner. My treat.” “Not at all,” says Tower. “This is my blow, you know."” “Suppose we :match for it” Barry, and after more or less talk they compromised at that. -.*It’s just maddening to think that ‘We can’ tertain you in our own home,” says Mrs. Tower, “but I would like to get some place where I can thaw myself out. Perhaps it will be|general good for Paul's disposition, teo. Come along, everybody. Let's go. But as we were streaming out Mr. Tower remembers that he’ll need an | extra early breakfast in the morning { those come in maybe I'l and suggests that a note to that effect be left in Hilda’s room so that she'll get it if she comes in and goes to bed before they get back. We waited | So we all trailed up to the next floor. { “Looks like a{not other persons. house. in Sofssons that had been through {are other Such | with woodland ruble: a pretty bedroom it must have been,|says th too, before that great hole had been |hack! hack! crash! crash! says Mr. Tower, | Once that line of hollies formed a “just because Tony’s enthusiasm for | hedge, planted there and tended lov- ripping _things out was so great, he|ingly by a fine old man who served ays | Jiggers properly.” Catholic Educational In- stitution Located on| the Old Farm of the| Ammens — St. Jo-l scph‘s Church and thei Grqveyard — Beaut:- ful Trees of the Prince! Georgcs County Re-' gion—The Man and| His Ax. ET us take up the story of the Vansville neighborhood where we left off last Sunday. We stand at the railroad end of the lane where persimmons grow and where the Rambler, lunching on the soft, shriveled, sweet plums of dios- pyros virginiana, was startled and hurried into perspiring activity by Dan Zimmerman, engineer of B. & O. local 151 blowing the locomotive whistle for Ammendale. Along the east side of the track grow a ragged row of holly trees, one| of the beautiful trees of our region! and a tree—the greenwood tree of | Shakespeare—whose life story en- nd mythology of | and whose boughs Christianity came to have been used as twines the poetry Albion and Gaul, and berries, sinc northern Kurope. celebrating ads in the great and hap- py festival of Christmas. There are rude gaps in the line of hollies. Trees fall out of line as men do._Death lays his bony hand on trees as he often does on less beautiful and less useful creatures, but in the case of these trees Death’ came in an un- natural way. He came not in the form of a doddering, tottering gray- beard with a scythe, but in the form of a robust, heedless chap with an| ax, who thought his wants of the moment of more importance than the life of a tree. Sometimes Death vis- ited the trees in the shape of woman. “I am a nature lover,” perhaps she said, “and therefore I destroy things in nature. You know, I love the out- of-doors and just adore the beauties of nature, and therefore 1 pull up and hack down the beautiful things in nature.” Continuing. she often mays, not that she speaks aloud, but the trees read the thoughts she does not utter —something like this: "I have a very sentimental and esthetic na ture, and what my esthetic sense! approves 1 kill. What's the life of a mere holly that grows among its friends and kindred by the side of a muddy lane or a grimy railroad track when I want its branches for my | chandelier, my dresser, or as a cen- terpiece for the table? Suppose other persons do like merely to look at helliea and think about them. I am CHOOL, VISITED BY THE RAMBLER. well, who did the state| vice! It the home of Rear Admiral Daniel Ammen, U. S. N. * ok ok * T was from the ancient Washington- | Baltimore pike—not the present| smooth automobile highway. but the | old and hilly pike—that you entered the grounds of the Ammen home last | His father was a rich lawser. He obtained onry in the cathedral at Reims, and ere he established & school where free ele menetary instruction was given to poor chil- dren. The enterprise xoon browdened in scope: n band of ent ic assstants gathered ronnd him: he resolved to resign his canonry and devote Limwelf entirely to the education of he poor. His assistants were orga: into a community which gradually rooted it all_over Frauce, and a truinig school for teuchers, the College of Saint Yon, was set up st Rovep. In 1725, six years after the| {nous Brothers. and a little obj issue prospectuses or prospecti—is that right? Lrothe: Basil said “1 will Have a s And he opened a door and showed the Rambler into a very plai pished room, where on the walls w iy pictures. the Crucifix, a port its of fa- set of Cardinal Gibbor . D in a velvet plique which the R: Gid not understand and which was a Sunday. - Y 4 p founder's death, the society Sus recognized | Sunday. - You passed close to the| LunqCe® polh ol *ne oficial title of | gift from a Pope. The place was still, big frame house which is in an ex-|-Brothers of the Christian Sehools.” Tts|but the sound of solemn and pious cellent state of upkeep, met some of the | members ook the usual monusts vat| gong came from a distant part-of the 4ia mot awpire to the priesthood. During the i pouE CAME Trom 8 4istant part of HhT pleasant people living there, moved |first hundred years of its existenc actist- Py Tn Al s s 9 e ties were maiuly confined to During | he ¥ me v along - on through groves of spruce, cedar | fe Wor Sauly SRIRMED (O ad fo most of | ridor. 1 only heard their footsteps. 1 and holly, followed a trail down 10! the countries of western Europe, and has becn | did not hear a voice. the icehouse and the little lake, and markedly successful in the United States. The door opened and Brother Basil then walked along a lane where tali persimmon trees hung out sweet temptation to every passerby From musing on persimmon trees and their fruit-filled branches,.and thinking of the fate of lLollies that had fallen out of line, and the shabby, hacked and clipped-up state of those that still stood their ground, the Rambler fell to contemplating a big four-story brick building, with slated mausard ~ roof. central pile, wings, porches and tall square tower which When La Ralle was canonized in 1900 the total number of Brothers was estimated at ,000. Although the order hus becs cerned with elementary xchoo takes most branches of secondar: nieal education. und it has served for other mocieties in Ireland and elsewhere. siightly differing in character from the orig inal institute. ' The gravel avenue, which forks at under- the statue, makes a wide loop, the top of the loop being at the main en- trance of the building. Within the loop is an oval plot of turf, on which ST. JOSEPH'S CHURCH AT AMMENDALE, MD. 1am I, and what persons to me! Come to ye bright green boughs set Perhaps she at to the poor tree, and then, and the her feet. my arms, mangled boughs lie dying at ————————— while Mrs. Tower scribbled her in- structions on the back of an envelope, but when she came out of the maid’s room she still had a piece of paper in her hand. “Why didn't you leave hubby. it? asks “I did,” says she. “This is a note that Hilda left for me. And, Paul! Her—her things are all gone!” ‘Eh?” says Tower. “Are you sure? What does the note say?’ “I—1 don't dare read it whispers Mrs. Tower. Her And. noble male that he was, Paul Tower took it with shaky fingers. He had the right dope, too, for a real tragedy was written into those tew lines. It was a bird of a note. “Dere mis tower,” it began. “I bust up da dishwash masheen, da sucker sveep bite me on da hand, and I no lak cookin on hot wires. So I go home by newroshell. No coom bak no more. You dond need cook in such a house—what you need is en- gineer lady. Hilda Olsen.” “Oh, I say!” chuckles Barry. “Isn’t that a scream?” * ok k% ¢« Q me,” says Tower, “it's just as umorous as a pink hearse. ‘Wait a moment. After that blow I'm going to crack my last bottle of Scotch. Jane and I both require it.” Well, it seemed to help, for that road house supper party turned out to be rather a cheerful affair after all. But on the drive home Barry had nothing at all to say about how nice it would be to ‘have a little home of our own in the country. So 1 had to drag in the subject myself. “Do you know, Barry,” says I, “you can hardly blame Hilda. The modern ome seems to be getting more and €| re like a machine shop.” “Then the modern maid ought to be properly trained” says he. “Why not have ‘em take a three months course and learn to handle all those 1 “Fine!” says I. ‘“But suppose you dla? Would a girl with a diploma from the General Electric Company want to go into anybody’s kitchen? rn she wouldn't. More likely she'd hunt for a job as assistant manager of the Brooklyn Rapid Transit. No, Barry. The up- to-date love nest still lacks some- thing. What it needs more than fire- Jess cookers is a fireless cook. When let you show me around another mod®l suburb.” And so one more grand little scheme of Barry’s went on the rocks. (Courright, 1921, by Sewell Ford.) stood in a large park about a quarter of a mile away. The building is a prominent fea- ture of the landscape. It is visible from a long distance as you ramble in the upper valley of the Eastern branch and over the hills and ridges that hem the valley on the east and w A smooth, hard-packed gravel avenue leads from the railroad, then crosses the Baltimore and Washing- ton gasoline boulevard and then the tracks of the electric line which leads from Washington to Laurel. A mature apple orchard is on the right and grass lands on the left. As you near the building you come to a fine bronze statue sets in a tri- angle of turf, and around the pedes- tal grow rose bushes and a bit of rhododendron. It is not a mere effigy in bronze, but a statue which has meaning and expression. It is a statue of Saint La Salle. Tt is In- scribed, “S. J. B. de la Salle” Down in one corner is “L. Jobin, sculptor, Quebec.” The saint holds in his left hand a bronze scroll, on which is written. “Rules and Constitutions of the Brothers of the Christian School The Rambler confesses ignorance. He knew that there was an order of Christian Brothers who conducted schools and colleges, be- cause a very agreeable young man came into his office about two years ago and we talked of St. John's Col- lege, Brother Tobias and many other things. As memory serves, I think the young man came to The Star| office to give us information about Brother Tobias, who had just died. I may be wrong about that. but I re- member that this young man's teach- ing line was French, and we became quite chummy, and he told me what his name had been in the world, and it, like that of the Rambler, sounded as though it might have been taken off_a Sinn Fein roster. So the Rambler xnew something about the Christian Brothers, but not much. As he stood before the ex- pressive bronze statue and read “S. J. B. de la Salle” and “L. Jobin, sculptor, Quebec,” he thought. in his! ignorance of Sieur de la Salle, thej French explorer of North America. who settled in Canada; who started west for China by way of the Ohio river, because he understood the In- dians to tell him that the Ohio flowed into the Pacific ocean: who explored the Ohio to its junction with the Mississippi, followed the Migis- sippi to its mouth; traversed ‘the great lakes and wrote his name with those of the great priests, Marquette. Joliet and Hennepin, on the map of America. The Rambier did not know that this adventurous La Salle had founded any order like that of the Christian Brothers. And he had not. The bronze statue is of St. Jean Bap- tiste de la Salle. But many of you, coming upon the statue, might not have known any more than I did. the * ok x ¥ TO improve our education, Ramblér takes these facts from the Encyclopedia Britannica: » St. Jean.Baptiste de Ia Salle was bern’at Re'ms, 1651, and died in 1719. He was the founder of the order of Christian Brothers. | | view. are flower beds. Also. there are two old-fashioned embellishments of lawns, one an iron deer, rusty-red in color, and the other an iron Ne foundland dog. Each is in a natural posture. In the shadow of a grove to the right. or off the northerly end of the building. the Rambler could make out a shrine, which later proved to be a shrine of Saint Joseph. The image of the saint, holding a little child, is in & niche of an arch built of the brown-red ironstone which is scattered throughout the region. In 2 niche in the square tower of the building and high above the ground is the image of a holy figure. Off to the left is a little church, around which tall. slender cedars seem to keep watch - is a college,” thought the! Rambler. “It is a still, grave and solemn place. All the boys must be at_church.” Knowing it to be a college of the Christian Brothers, and knowing no more. you would have thought just as I did. These thoughts were in the Rambler's mind: breaking into this on Sunday thing in the neighborhood. and tie Rambler must not leave Hamlet out of Hamlet. The Star are waiting for a story from | came me, and I must not disappoint the So_brace up, old man, and go to i 1 gather up my pack and walk to- chietly | | ered with another Brother—a very nd and scholarly man. 1 sort of felt it 1n my bones that I was to be assailed with Latin and asked from university 1 d u degree. Nothing like it. .They were very simple gentelemen. plain of speech and kind of manner. but they had Inever heard of the Rambler, and one ve a faint recol- of them seemed to 1 lection that The Evening rowas published in Baltimore. And the Rambler found it hard to keep off the subject of a catalogue or pros- pectus. But as Brother Basil, director of the community, and Brother Supe- rior Dorotheus got acquainted. the Rambler came to_understand this He was in the Christian Brothers Navitiate and Normal School. onc of the schools of the order where young men are trained and educated for the religious life. There if a junior novi- tiate for boys from thirteen to sixteen years old who have presented them- selv and where the equivalent of a high-school education is given in worldly subjects, hut always with an eye to the spiritual ning. the scholasticate or normal school. the Senior novitiate, and the community proper. DBrother Francis is the mas- ter of novices and Lrother Leonard director of novices. A small company of Brothers from Baltimore in 1879 opened a school on a farm of 118 acres' which had been bought from Rear Admiral Ammen. There were abou: twelve Brothers in the company, and they began in a small brick building, which has been torn down. The present building was dedicated in 1855. The farm is now of about 387 acres. comprising wood- land, orchards. vegetable gardens, poultry lote and athletic fields Brother Basil handed the Rambler a set of post cards. one of them show- ing the base ball field with young novices at pl; % % THE Brothers have arranged a large rectangular swimming which {s fed by a pretty little stream that flows from the grounds. There are four districts of the order in the United States—Baltimore. New York. pool. St. Louis and California—and this college on the old Ammen lands is the novitiate znd normal school of the Baltimore district. The chaplain is Father Staunton. and the chapel in the big brick building is as beautiful as a chapel can be. Father Staunton says mass in the little parish church, St. Joseph’s, which the Rambler pointed out among the tall and slen- der cedars. It was the church which Admiral Ammen and his wife at- tended, and in Eraves near it rest many of the good people of that sec- tion of Prince Georges county. From the high land on which St. Joseph's stands you may look over to the Ammen home in the groves of spruce and cedar, the home that was once inclosed with a hedge of holly trees. Near this little church is a solemn plot of land where small white mar- ble headstones in ranks mark the graves of Brothers. The inscription i the spiritual name of the deceased, the date of his death and “R. 1. P." The first grave on which the Ram- bler's eye fell was marked “Brother Tobias. Died Sept. 26, 1919 This old Brother was for many years at the head of St. John's College, and was one of the best known and most loved men of Washington The Rambler has not exhausted the “I don't feel like|rotes of his visit to Ammendale. and solemn place like | must t . but it is the principal | time. ell you more about it another Before bringing this narrative to its close, the Rambler turns to the Catholic Encyclopedia, that it may Besides, 500.000 readers of | tell you something of how this order into being. Here are a few paragraphs: The Institute of the Brothers of the Chris- tian Schools is a society of male religions ward the big buflding. Not a man in | approved by the church but not taking holy Not a face at any window. 1 cilmb the steps to the central doors of stained glass. An old-fashioned pull-bell. As I stand there I feel a good deal of awe. I fancy that the very air is heavy with Latin. 1 try to think of somethiyg to say in Latin and of what I might say if addressed that way. I pull the bell handle very gingerly. There is no ring. 1 hear within—it sounds far off—the chant of men. I give the bell handle a vigorous pull, and it rings. It rings loud. It goes off like the gong in a fire-engine house, and its brazen sound filis the building with echoes. Presently I hear footsteps. * ¥ X % E door opens, and a young man of middle age, with a highly in- tellectual face and scholarly expres: sion, ‘faces me. “Father or Brother? say I. “Brother.” he answers, in a soft and easy way which reassures me. He is kind and cordial, but mildly curious. He has not heard of the Rambler and his mission to write two columns every Sunday, rain or shine. The Rambler asked him it he (the Ramb) could borrow a pros pectus, a catalogue. or a conspectu! or some advertisement of the college, that he might write a few lines about it. Brother Basil, director of the community, seemed a little puzzled, because, as the Rambler found out later, it is the kind of a school which does not put “ads” in newspapers and i 1 i orders, and having for its obfect the per. sonal sanctification of its members and the Christian_education of yenth, especially of the chiliren of artisans and the poor. Tt accepts the direction of any kind of ‘male educational institution, but its principal ob. jementary gratuitous founded in n Baptiste etropolitan Reims, church of that city. Being_struck_with the lamentable disorders produced among the multitude by their igno- rance of the elements of knowledge, and, what was still worse, of the principles of religion, the saint, moved with great pity for the ignorant, ‘was led, almost without premedi- tated design, to take up the work of the charitable schools. In order to carry out the last will of his spiritual director, Canon Roland, he first busied himself with ~con- wolidating a religious congregation devoted to the education of poor girls. He then seconded the efforts of & sealous layman. M. Nyel. 10 multiply schools for poor chiidren. = Thus, guided by Providence. he was led to create an institute that would huve no other mission than that of Christian education. However. it would be a serious error to intlmate that until the end of the seventeenth ceutury the Catholic Church' had iuterested herself but little in the education of the children of the people. In France, from the fifth to the six- teenth centurs, many councils were held, especially those of Vaisin in 520 and Aachen 817, which recommended the secular clergy and monks to instruct childres. This authority gives many other references along the same line, and of “The Spirit of the In The Schools in - America and “The Methods of Teaching.” The, Rambler must stop here, but at another time he will carry you back to the old homes of Ge Jacob Am- men, Admiral Daniel Ammen and the Novitiate and Normal School of the . Christian_Brothers at Ammendale, in Prince George's county, thirtesn miles from Washington.