Evening Star Newspaper, March 5, 1922, Page 61

- find it and show it to the judge. CLARA GETS HER CU after the wedding. and a year or so later he left town. I don't know what bqoame of him. Poor Bob!" What 1 wanted to say was “Poor Clara! for it struck me this was a might thin little romance for such a pretty girl as she must have been, HEY tell me it takes from four to six months to teach a clr- cus elephant to stand on & blue tub and ring a bell. and those big brutes are supposed to be wise and clever. I expect they are, t But say, I'm still backing the human race. Not for learning ring}even if she had lived in Tonowanda. stunts, especially. T don’t know how | Only a clerk in the gas office, whe 1auch training I'd need before 1 could | took it out in writing a mushy letter ride standing up on the top deck of ! when it was too late and then faded a dapple gray horse and jump through | into the background! That and six- a paper hoop. But when it comes to a quick shift in habits and ways of Tiving nothing in the animal kingdom' can touch a human being. Particu- larly the female of the species. Take Clara Trueman, for a sample. Less than a month ago she made her escape from Tonawanda. N. Y., and her watchdog sisters-in-law, and after sixteen dull gray years in a gray limestone mansion that was just as homey as a state reformatory. She'd gotten so used to rolling out for a 7 o'clock breakfast and to hitting the feathers promptly at 9:30 pm.-that she almost thought that routine was established by the Ten Command- ments. She'd worn tacky clothes, eaten skimpy meals and played be- zique With a solemn old hubby until she'd nearly fergotten how to smile. She hadn’t even had her share of small-town fun. ¥ % K * ND new, with little more than a week's practice, she was hitting only the high spots in New York's gay whirl. absorbing from four to five meals a day and wearing the kind of costumes that got other women twisting their necks as she passed by. Also she was getting used to being fussed over by a French maid, having the breakfast tray brought in at 9 am. and toying with midnight suppers after the theater. T'll admit she had an expert guide slong the primrose path. Anyway, I was making a2 good bluft as a joy conducter. I knew about what she wanted in the line of fun, and I eased her into it. First off. her idea of a wild time in New York was to take in the Aquarium and Grant's tomb and a movie show all in the same day. 1 let her do that once, and then I started in on her education. We lunched in the Egyptian room at the Tlutoria—avocado pear salad. stone crabs au gratin, filet mignon and cafe marfait—drove out to the end of Pel- ham Bay parkway in a de luxe taxi, zot back in time for toasted muffins, marmalade and tea at the Ritz and watched the dancing until nearly 6; then we dressed for dinner at Tor- saw the last two acts of “Tut! fazie” got to the Follies in season for the bare-knee specialty, finished with lobster Newburg at the Pink Pup in Greenwich Village and checked in at her hotel shortly before 2 in the morning. Clara said her head ached. but she was happy. Another day I towed her down to Chinatown for chow gai at Mon Lay ‘Wong's, made her walk through the Mulberry street pushcart market, and rung her in on a merry studio party given by a friend of Berry Platt's, who was celebrating the first anni- versary of his second divorce. Yes, it was some party. That was where Clara sat for the first hour with her eyes bugged and then gradually for- ot her Tonowanda bringing up until at midnight she joined the bunch in singing: “For we'll all go together as we §0-0-0. ) To see the lion and the wild buffalo. And we'll all go together as we! g0-0-0. To see-e-e Fernandez's show.” More than that, she hummed it all the way home in the cab and an- nounced that she was going to learn to smoke cigarettes. . iw ()F course. sle was no longer liv- ing at that old ladies' home, the lady Ann. Her choice would have heen one of the big 5th avenue hotels, Lut 1 knew she couldn’t be as com- fortable there as in a smaller, more vxclusive place on Park avenue; so L found a nice, sunny four-room suite for her and installed her there with Julie. the maid. Also 1 had her buy a cute little Pekinese dog. give a standing order to a florist and hire a coupe by the driver. If that ism't a fair start on » may and frivolous life then 1 don’t; huow the combination. You should have seen the way she bloomed out. too, and looked the part. Why, from a dumpy. aged female who bulged in the wrong places and wore her hair in a knob on the back of her head. she had de- veloped into a®zippy person who had the head waiters bowing gracious and who could even get attention from Laughty salesladies in the depart- ment stores. As a matter of fact this upstate widow, who had seemed such a hope- less proposition when I first took her in hand, was getting easier to look at every day. After the Maison Noir people had givén her a figure and the heauty shop had supplied her with & complexion and a permanent hair wave, you could hardly tell her from the thousands of other smart women who had been shooping along 5th avenue most of their lives. She did Lave rather nice brown eyes and now that the scared look had gone from them, and she'd learned how to hold her chin up, she was aimost dashing at times. Especially’in a din- ner gown when she was excited by yhe music and the chatter from near- 1y tables. You must have been something ‘of a vamp at nineteen or twenty, Clara.” 7 said to her one night. 0 wonder old judge fell for you. in line, vou the there no others ones?” Clara tinted up 2 bit under the eye: ~{ suppome 8o.” says she. “But none tnat counted for much; at least. none of them asked to marry me. There was one who—who wanted to, 1 think. Tt he was just a clerk in the gas office and couldn’t afford it. 1 had no money, either. You see, I had lost hoth my father and my mother and was living with an aunt.” “What did the gas office clerk do when he found you Wwere going to marry the judge?’ 1 asked. “Any- thing desperate?” “He sent me * % * x sm-: shook her head. a silver-plated bonbon dish for & wedding present” says. she, “and wrote an awfully silly letter that I used to keep hidden under the lining of my handkerchief case until T Jurned it for fear Aunt Abble -oul.} Aever saw him to speak Lo alone month with her own| middle- | 1 jteen years as the second wife of a kard-boiled judge was all she'd had dealt to her. Do you blame me for whooping It up for Clara and helping her make up for lost time? Only there was something lacking, of course. You can go out and buy & certain kind of pleasure at lobster palaces and theaters and tea dance | joints, and when those things are new You can get a few thrills from em. But that isn't real living. I could| seo that she would soon get tired | THAT SEEMED TO BE HIS CUE. HE DROPPED HIS CIGARETTE, LEANED ACROSS THE TABLE AND LET HIS TIRED E¥ES LIGHT UP | WITH ENTHUSIASM. of it all—just chasing around town with me, or now and then with Barry along, when T could ring him in as an escort. Those soft brown eyes of Clara’s were beginning to have a dis- appointed. hungry look in them. “Some day,” I suggested, “you'll be going back to Tonowanda.” “No, no,” she protested quickly. ‘Oh, 1 couldn’t do that—ever.” “Well, asked. “I mean. after this sort of thing has grown to be a bore?" “Will it?" she demanded. “Absolutely,” says I. “Oh, not this month, nor next. But later on you'll get so sick of picking your three meals from a menu card that you'll be boiling your own breakfast eggs over a can of frozen alcohol and smuggling in things for luncheon from the delicatessen store. You'll l get tired of tipping waiters and chambermaids and watching the lights in the Metropolitan tower blink the half hour. You'll work up a longing for some of Aunt Abbie's hot biscuits and strawberry jam. Then spring will be coming along,; but you'll hardly know it unle: you're following the calendar close. And you'll get to wondering if the lilac bush by the kitchen door has quit blooming and if the syringia and bridal wreath are out yet. and if the robins are singing in the big elm.” ! “Don't!" says Clara. “Homesick already?’ I asks. “A little” says she. “But couldn't go back—alone. Besides, iI've given the use of the house to Abbie and Esther as long as they live. 1 don't know what 1 shall do. Anyway, I mean fn have some more good times here. And-1I want to meet some more people—a lot more.” Kk X O, being a high-salaried social sec- retary, I did my best to fix it for her. T used all my own friends and most of Barry Platt's. 1 arranged dinner parties for her and accepted any invitations that came our way. And it was at a studio tea down In Washington Mews. which is the swell part of Greenwich Village, that there appeared on the scene this tall, | distinguished-looking party with the | near-English accent and the tired eyes. social function that we'd been able to edge in on. getting a bid to it through Ames Hunt, my late theat- rical manager, who'd come back | from his Florida tarpon fishing spree full of pep and enthusiasm and had sent word that he thought he had !a splendld part for me in a new plece he was planning to put on— next fall! Anyway, there we were. mingling with a few people whose names you see in the social notes and others who are trying to make the grade. So Julie and T had taken a lot of pains to have Clara looking her best, and I'll say we'd done rather a good job. When we first came in I had noticed this man with streaks of gray in his front hair and the weary eyes and I took it as rather a compliment to our work that he stared.at Clara Trueman, even while he was chatting with Mrs. Jimmy Van Lear. was a little surprised to find Clara returning the stare. “Who's your tall friend?" I asked. “I—I'm not sure that I know him." said she, “and vet there is something familiar about his face “There ‘Is about the way he's gaz- ing at you, anyway,” says I It was only a few minutes later that I left her to speak to Ames Hunt and when I' came back I found her sitting in a corner With the stranger and he was holding one of her hands. Which struck me as fast work for Clara. Also she was a good desl pinked up and | ner_eyes were actually brilliant. “Oh!" said I. crashing in on them. “I beg pardon.” - “What do you think, Trilby says she. “This is Mr. Staples. Sk oE ko SAID [ was charmed, but at the same time I gave her a nudge and lifted my eyebrows inquiring. It—it's Bob, you know,” she goes | May?" on. “What?" says I the—the—" “Oh, yes,"” he chimes in. “From the gas ofee in Tonowanda. Clara must have told you of my first and only ai tempt to earn my own living. I hepe she didn’t add that-it was a sad fail- ure.” “I didn’t know,” says Clara. “Not the one from “Was says he. what will you do then?” I It was about the nearest to a real But I, was about the worst gas office clerk who ever entered the business. At least, the local manager told.me as much several times. But it wasn't until after 1 had hopelessly muddied the accounts that he fired rhe. What a long, long tline ago that was, wasn't it, Clara?" She agreed that it was, and a5 the nicely without me, I drifted off and left them to continue it. Bo they had tea and cakes together, and more tea and more cakes. I found two or three people that I thought Clara would like to meet, but every time I went to look her up she seemed to be having such & good time with her long lost Bob that I didn't have the ' ! heart to drag her away. I was a bit curious about him, too, and finally I took Ames Hunt one side and asked L tor details. “Who Is this Rebert smples‘"' I de- manded. “Eh?" says he. “Bob Sllpleu? Why he—he's just one of those fellows, vou know. You see him around everywhere—first nights, at clubs, studio affairs such as this, prize fights, at the races, and week ending at country houses. He's what the newspaper writers describe as a man- about-town. A good sport, I be- Hlieve.” “What has he got to sport on?" I asked. Ames Hunt shrugged his shoulders. “Now you're getting into personal statistics,” says he. “I'm arraid I've told you all I know about Bob—per- haps a little more.” But that didn't explain him. It simply made him more mysterious. So I tried pumping Mrs. Jimmy, with- {out any great success. She turned | those baby blue eyes of hers full on Ime and favored me with one of her hard little smiles when 1 asked if Mr. Staples wasn't a most interesting man. . “Positively fascinating, my dear,” isaid she. “That is, if you happen to be in a Bob Staples mood: and if your’e not he will discover it before |you do. Few men are so gifted. 1 suppose she thought that clever, for that is Mrs. Jimmy's line. But it didn't help very much. Howverer, I was sure Clara would have the whole story. Cer- tainly they'd had a chance to tell each other everything worth knowing, for at 5:30 they were still talking earnestly in the corner and seemed rather surprised when 1 suggested that every one was going. “Oh, well!" says Clara. “But Bob “That's nice,” says I. * x ox X AY D as we gave him a lift uptown | in Clara’s coupe I had only a few| minutes alone with her. I'm not sure, either, that I improved what little time I had. %y “Then your Bob never married?" asked. “Why." says Clara. “I—I don’t know. He didn’t say and I couldn’t ask, could 1 | “Evidently you didn’t.” says I. “But where has he been since he quit being a gas office clerk”” ‘Oh, everywhere,” says Clara. “Nearly all over the world, I think. You should hear him talk about living in strange places—Biskra, Port Said, Jo- | hannesburg, Mentone, Calcutta.” “Who was he drawing maps for?” I asked. “Maps?'" says Clara. “Or what was his line of goods?” I [went on. “You know they don’t issue ‘round-the-world passes to ex-clerks. Not as a rule.” But it scems that Mr. Staples hadn't gone into details as to how his travels had been financed. “I don't think he was selling things,” says Clara. “He spoke of hunting trips, and of being en- tertained on yachts, and of watching various kinds of sports, from tiger shooting in India to ski jumping in Switzerland. It was fascinating to listen to any one who had actually seen all those things and places. Do you know, Trilby May, he is Jjust the sort of man T've been hoping to meet. And to think that he should be Bob Staples!” “Yes,” says I, “that’s the odd pdrt.” Well, lr Staples in a dinner coat looked mofe like a foreign diplomat than ever, even if the sleeves were a trifle shiny at the elbows and too many home pressings. Somehow or other, too, he managed to do most of the ordering, he insisted on mixing the salad dressing himself, and he told the waiter to bring on & coffee machine when it came time for the little cups. Also he didn’t hesi- tate to name his favorite brands of cigars and cigarettes. But I failed to hear 'him make any prgtest when Clara signed the bill and tipped the waiter. 1 had 'phoned for theater tickets, too and those were on us. Perhaps I didn" know his past. but I guess his motto. 1 think what he had pasted in his hat would read: “The woman pays, and pays, and pays.” Yet it was almost worth the price. He called the head waiter Loute, and nodded friendly to the orchestra leader, who waved back at him. Half a dozen other diners halled him as Bob and twice he declined dinner invitations for later in the week. And there was no mistake about his having been a globe trotter. He talked as familiarly about the Bund in Hongkong and the Prado “l suppose 1jin Havana and the Wilhelmstrasse in reunion seemed to be getting on quite | E—By Sewell Ford THE RAMBLER FACTS ID | Berlin as we could about C-ym street in Tonawanda or Sheridan Square. He threw in advice about where to stop in Rome and Buenos Alres'and Hono- 'lulu, as well as where to find the best places to eat and which consul general played the best game of golf or bridge. {1 couldn’t help listening with my mouth open. As for Clara, she would simply eat up that sort of thing. “1f I could only travell” she sighed. “Why not?’ he asked. EADING the early statutes of Maryland for references to Bladensburg, the Rambler found many legislative acts which, although not bearing on the history of Bladensburg, shall find a place In these narratives. There are many acts relating to the confisca- tion of the property of tories. Quite is coming around to have dinner with! #0h, 1 shouldnu’t know where to go or how to get there,”” said she. L THAT seemed to be his cue. He dropped his clgarette, leaned across the table, and let his tired eyes light up with enthusiasm. “Let me tell you,” sald he. “Starting now, or within & week or so, you'd take a French liner to Brest, then to Parls by rail and south as quickly as you could gét a train. You'd want to get at Biarritz. Three excellent lhole]s there. but I should give you & | note to Mme. Fourine, who has per- ihaps the most comfortable pension in all Europe. It's really an old chateau. perched up on the cliffs above the ‘Bay of Biscay. Fully a week at Biar- ritz, for, while it would be off season, ycu'd need the rest. Also you couldn't there's nothing finer in the way of climate except in Java, or perhaps IADrll on the west coast of Florida.” | Honest, he had us all worked up. I iwanted to go right back to the hotel |nnd pack our trunks. But Clara held off. It looked to me as if she hadn't goes on. “Does it lead anywhere. To- ward matrimony. for instance?” ‘That jarred him considerable, he recovered after a minute or so. wish it did.” says he. “What's the obstacle?” says L previous entanglment?’ miss driving out to St. Jean de Luz— best eighteen-hole course on the con- tinent there—and seeing some- thing of that charming old Basque country. And if you're lucky enough to strike there on a band day you'll see the peasants dancing in Marie square. Next vou get your pass- ports fixed up and drop down to San Sebastian, just across the Spanish border. Ah, but there's a regular place—San Sebastian! The sea in front, the Pyrenees at your back. and the smartest people of all the world about you. Up on the mountain, too, is a gambling casino that makes Monte Carlo look second rate. Such food, such wines and such people! The Spanish spring is just beginning, and seen quite enough of Bob. If that was the case it wasn't his fault during the next few days, for he did everything Hut take breakfast with her. He showed up for luncheon, went shop- ping and driving with us, dropped in just before dinner and seldom said good-night before 1 a.m. And at the end of a week Clara appeared to know | no more about him than she did that first afternoomn. Then one evening I found him wait: ing in the lobby for her to come down, and T didn’t do a thing but open up the third degree on him. ‘“Listen, Mr. Man,” says I. the clever idea” T beg pardon?’ said he. “This sticking around so close” I “What's but “r “p “No,” says he. “I'm single, thank my unlucky stars. And Clara's the only woman I ever really wanted to marry.” “Well, then?" T urged. “I—T1 can't ask her,” says he. “I'm not in a position—financially—to do that.” “Traveled too much?’ 1 suggested. * ok k% ¢« PRECISELY,” sald he. "I know soon after I was fired from the gas office my uncle left me quite a neat little fortune. In less than a week after the money was paid to me I was on my way to Europe. I wasn't wildly extravagant, but I jearned how to live well, gamble like a gentleman, and to go In for various sports. In a year I was flat broke. That hap- pened at Aix-les-Bains. It's a poor place to go on the rocks. You can't keep on borrowing from friends in- definitely, and abroad ofie can starve quite easily. I almost did." That ex- perience gave me quite a scare. Then aunt died and left me another for- tune, twice as much as the first one. 1 was more careful of that. But 1 wanted to go places, to see things, and to have my fun. In order to do that I had to learn to live by my wits. Oh, the usual way—bridge, poker and other games. I'm not a professional. I can still'claim an amateur standing, I think, at almost any sport. But my income Is—well, rather « uncertain. T'm asked out to dinners, dances and week ends, because I'm rather useful. And that’s my life. Can I ask a wom- an such as Clara to share jt?" I shrugged my shoulders and shook hands with him. He was more of a man than T'd thought. But I didn't know what to do about Clara. T needn't have worried, though. Night before last she camé to me with her soft brown eyes all full of smiles and her chéek dimples showirtg. “You can’t guess where I'm going next week,” she purred. “Back to Tonawanda?’ says I. | | “No,” says she. “To that San Sebastian place, in Spain.” “Not alone?” T asked. She shook her head. “With Bob,” says she. “We are to be married Saturday.” “When did he ask you?" I de- manded. ¢ didn’t,” says she. “T asked him —tonight. Wasn't that awful of me, Trilby: May 2" i how to do it too well. You sees| & number—one might say a great many—of men and women who be- longed to what was called and what 18 still called “the upper class, “the better class,” did net sympathize with the revoit of the colonles inst England, and the legislature of Maryland referred to these per- sons as “enemies of their country” and confiscated their property. After Independence & number of acts were Dassed for the rellef of the heirs of persons whose property had been taken by the state, and among these acts are some which refer to the neighborhood in which we live. One relates to Barnaby Manor, an estate in the Oxon Hill district of Prince Georges county. ! The manor house still stands and its story has been told and its pic- ture shown in these annals. From the garden and windows of the old home one may look down on the domes and spires of Washington. The act which the Rambler will quote to you is for the relief of Anthony of Henry Addison. | Addison, son Henry has been a tory, but An-| thony had been a patriot. The act recites: “And whereas it is not the wish of this assembly to ruin or distress the innocent families, remaining in this state, of those delufed persons who have deserted their country, ad- hered to the enemy and thereby elected to be British subjects, and whereas the son and heir apparent of the said Henry Addison, not being influenced by the evil example of his parent or of other near comnections, hath always resided in the state and manifested his attichment to the country by taking the oath of al- legiance and by rendering personal | service to prevent the ravages of the enemy, and whereas more than halt in value of the whole property within the state of the said Henry Addison, appears to have been already seized, confiscated and sold to the use of the state; ‘“Therefore, be it enacted by the general assembly of Maryland, That the tract of land in Prince Georges county, long the property of the said Hefiry Addison, called Barnaby Manor, containing 1,407 acres or thereabout, be hereby given to and vested in said Anthony Addison in fee tail, general remainder to the said Eleanor (his daughter) and the heirs of her body, etc. “And be it enacted, that the whole personal estate, late of Henry Addi- son in Prince Georges county, now in the possession of the said Anthony| snd of the said Garland Callis, the, husband of the sald Eleanor, be given | to the said Anthony and Eleanor and | divided between them in the follow-!? ing manner.” : * % k ¥ THEN follows a long relation as to how the division shall be effected | and a number of the things to be ap- | { portioned are named. Executors were | appointed by the state to make the distribution, and these were Thomas Hanson, William Baker and Michael Low. all of Prince Georges county. ‘The date of the act was 1782. Separated by & few yellow pages of | the old law: book from the act con- cerning Barnaby Manor is one in which you will find some familiar names. It follows. in part: “That the commissioners to pre- t gerve confiscated British property be authorized and directed, after giving four weeks’ notice of the sale of land and negroes and two ‘weeks' notice of the sale of other property in the Maryland Gasette and Baltimore Journal, to sell at auction for cur- rent money at not less than the a gessment the following property late- 1y belonging to British subjects and therefore confiscated, or to subjects of this state and forteited for trea- , to wit: m'?'l'l\a 1ots and houses in Port ‘Tobacco late the property of Cunningham and Company; the lots and houses in Not- tingham and Upper Marlborough, ln; the property of James Russell; srm:nk rents in Frederick Town, in Freder! :: county, -lately belonging ‘tn Daniel Dulany. son of Danfel; the lands lately the property of James Somer- fz I ve «Oh, T don't know." savs heard of more aresdtul things, and I'm rather glad you aid it, even it I have worked myself out of another Jol wyou're a perfect dear, TrilbyMay,” says she, “and 1 don't think you are going to regret sending me to Spain with Bob instead of back to :r.m.. wands with Aunt Abbi Just exactly what she meant by that I haven't discovéred. I'm waiting to see. (Copyright, 1922, by Sewell ¥ord.) ! cestors EFERENCES to Bladensburg—Dlstnbu-‘ tion of Property in Early Days—Treatmg of Slaves. Tobacco, Debtors and Morals. Liquor Trade in 1715—Peculiar Money in Circulation. Familiar Old Names—Efforts to Restrict the i [ | | ville and Philip Key; lots in George | Town, in Montgomery county, lately the property of Dunlap and Son; the | land and other property of Alexander Hamilton, not otherwise disposed of by the general assembly; lots and | houses in Bladensburg, late the prop- erty of George and Andrew Buchanan | and Company and James Brown and | Company, and lots and houses in| Chester Town, in Caecil county, and two-thirds of the land of Robert Alexan- | der, in Caecil ‘county, including one | hundred acres next adjoining the| Prince Georges county — Hon. Charles Calvert, governor; Rev. Jacob Henderson, Robert Tyler, Col. Joseph Belt, Thomas Gant, George Noble and John Bradford. Visitors for the other counties are named, but the Rambler feels that he has space only for those of the counties in the Washington nelgh- borhood. . * %k ok Rambler found this strange g the records of 1725: TH E law amonj DISCOVERS INTERESTING® MARYLAND' STATUTE BOOKS act of the phrase “negroes and other slaves.” It is also provided that “if it shall happen at any time that any negro or other slave shall strike any white person, such offender shall be cropt.” “Cropt™” ineant that the ears should be “cropped” or clipped. Whether it meant that they - should be clipped off or that a part of the ear should be clipped the Rambler does”not know, but he believes that the meaning was that the ears should be cut off. * % x * HERE were efforts in 1725 to re- strict the liquor trade, that the Quakers might worship in peace, and in 1716 there was a very mild and gentle effort to discourage liquor traffic with Indians. The act of 172 was “An Act to punish whoso shall presume either to set up a booth or sell or dispense any liquor or other matter or thing whatever, either by land or water, within one mile of | the Yearly Meeting House of the peo- ple called Quakers in Talbot County, town at the head of Elk, and ome-| “For as much as female mulattoes ! or within two miles of their Yearly THE FERRELL-BRUEHL HOUSE. halt of his megroes, the residue of | his Tand (including his late dwellingl plantation) and the other half of his| negroes and his other property to be | reserved subject to the direction of the general assembly.” * ¥k % A MAJORITY of the statutes of the first and second quarters of the eighteenth century treat of tobacco. slaves, insolvent debtors, the rebufld- ing of churches that had become ruin- ous, the subdivision of parishes, (he rebuilding of courthouses that had been burned, the payment of boun- ties for the heads of crows and scalps of squirrels, foxes and wolves, and laws for the regulation of morals. And from the laws intended to regu- late morals one gets the idea that quite a number of our Maryland an- | lacked somewhat of the saintliness which we now ascribe to! them. A few acts relate to the crea- | BLADEN!ILRG SCHOOLHOUSE. tion and support of schools, some of which were free schools and some boarding schools. in which puplls paid for board and tuition. In one of these the Rambler finds the names of men who were probably ancestors to a large body of people today. These names appear in an act passed in 1723, entitled “An act for the En- couragement of Learning.” It re- cites that “there shall be one school in each county, at the most convenient place and as near the center of the county as may be, for the boarding of children.” The inference drawn from a reading of this law is that schools of this character had beén established before 1723, but it is the earliest act of the kind which the Rambler has come upon. Provision is made for the appointment of visi- tors to these county boarding schools, and the visitors named in this act (1723) are: St. Marys county-—Rev. Leigh Mas- sey, James Bowles, Nicholas Lowe, Samuel Willlamson, Col. Thomas Tru- man Greenfield, Thumas Waughop and Capt. Justinian Jordan. Anne Arundel county—Rev. Joseph Colehatch, Col. Samuel Young, Wil- lam Lock, Capt. Daniel Mariartee (Moriarty), Charles Hammond, Rich- ard Warfleld and John Beale. Calvert county—Rev. Jonathan Cay, John Rousley, Col. John Mackall, Col. John Smith, James Heigh, Walter Smith of Leonards Creek and Eenja- min Mackall. Charles county—Rev. William Ma- conchie, Gustavus Brown, George Dent, Capt. Joseph Harrison, Robert - | | | Hanson, Samuel Hanson and Randall Morris. i latto slave, born of a white woman, or any Indian { born of white women and free negro women are ndt mentioned in the acr ascertaining what persons are tax: able within this province, be it ene acted, etc., that all female mulattoes born of white women and all free negro women of the age of sixteen vears shall be hereafter accounted taxable persons.” Among the statutes of 1717 is one which is apt to give us the impres. sion that the public which approved! | it and the legislators who voted for | it had not at that time become sat- urated with the doctrine of the equal- 1ity of men. It follows: “That the word of no negro or mu- free negro or mulatto slave or free Indian, natives of this provinee or the neighboring province be admitted as good and valid evi- dence in law in any matter or thing whatsoever depending before any court of record or before any magis- trate within this province wherein any Christian white person is con- cerned.” This law was passed during the ad- ministrafion of the Royal Gov. John Hart, during whose term of office and two years before the passage of the act just quoted all Catholics in Mary: land were disfranchised. You prob- ably caught the phrase “or any In- dian slave or frée Indian” in the act. This shows that “Indians, in one way or another, had been reduced to slav- ery, and I am not sure but that white transportees (if that is a good word), who were generally described as “Servants,” with a capital “S” or “in- dented servants” or “indentured serv- ants,” were sometimes classed as slaves. You, will find in a number of the old laws the phrase *negroes and other slaves.” The Rambler thinks that Indian and white slaves were meant. 1723 there was an act “to .punish blasphemers, swearers, drunk- ards ahd Sabbath breakers” and “to prevent the tumultous meetings and other irregularities of negroes and other slaves.” One of the purposes of that act was to “prevent the meet- ing of such in great numbers on the Sabbath and other holy days, and to! keep horses, cattle and hogs of their own.” Here seems to be another bit of evidence tHat “the days of yore™” were not golden days for the lowly and unfortunate classes. It seems strange and bard to us now that leg- islators in our own land and in a land we love 80 well could pass & law for- bidding another man to own a Cow or hog. There is renctlllon in this Meeting House near West River. in Anne Arundel County.” The penalty on conviction was ten pounds current money of Maryland, one half to go to the informer and the rest to the use of the public school of the coun- ty “where such offense shall be com- mitted.” At the end of the act is this eloquent and significant para- graph: “Provided, that this act shall not be construed to hinder any ordi- nary keeper from selling liquors in ! their respective dwelling house.” An “ordinary keeper” was a tavern keeper. There was a long act, 1 “prohib- iting the carrying of liquor to any Indian fort or town or within three miles of such fort or town and seil- ing same to any Indian or Indians.” There is a récital of many disorders caused by drunken Tndians, and the penalty for violation of the statute was fixed at 5,000 pounds of tobacco Toward the conclusion of the act one finds that it was not necessary that Indians should go dry, and that b going outside of the three-mile 1 of their villages they could get drink or so. What follows is taken from the statute: “That if any person. by himself or his servant, shall sell to any Indian within the space of one day more than one gallon of rum. brandy, wine Or spirit. or more than five gallons of syder. perry, quince- drink or strong beer, he shall be fined 3.000 pounds of tobacco.” One would think that a Maryland Indian would have been able to get along on one gallon of rum or five gallons of hard cider or “quince-drink” per day. Some time ago the Rambier pub- lllnhed a list of kinds of money in i circulation in Maryland and the bul- lion value of this money in tobacco The names of many forgotten coins | were in the list. In a statute of 1710 ]regull!lng money current in the province the Rambler comes upon the following list: “Sevil (Seville) Pieces of 8—old plate; ditto, new plate; Mexico Pleces of ¢; Pillar Pieces of 8; Peru Pleces of 8, old plate; Cross Dollars; Duca- toons of Flanders: Ecus or Silver Lewis of France: Crusadores of Portu- gal; Three Gilder Pieces of Holland and Old Rix Dollars of the Empire.” The Rambler hopes you have mot overslept yourself while reading these things found in the old statute books of Maryland. He promises that he has on hand many more curious laws and an ample supply of old houses, burial grpunds, roads with cedar trees along them, and also a full stock of all kinds of your ancestors, except, of course, those Who were mot aristo- crats. The Rambler makes it a point of business, honor, and all that, never to lead forth in these annals an an- cestor who was not an aristocise. For experience has shown the Tam- bler that the commonest kind of de- scendants demand aristocratic an- cestors. { Huge Mold for Guns. | ~OT so long ago one of the great steel companies turned out the. | 1argest ingot mold ever seen. It is octagonal in shape, fifteen feet seveu inches high, with an average insi diameter of ninety-one and one-half inches. The thickness varies from fifteen to twenty inches. The mola was ‘used in casting the 300.000-pounc steel ingots from which our sixtesm- inch and -eighteen-inch guns ate forged. The Bessemer iron for the mold was melted in three large open-hearth steel furnaces and suspended in three ladles over the mold at one time. The molten contents then mingled in a trough or runner, ®o that the iron was thoroughly mixed before it en- tered the mold. It took 340,000 ! pounds of iron to pour the casting. After the mold was thoroughly cooled two 100-ton cranes lifted it from the sand pit. —_— Queen Victoria of Spain, recently gave her first sitting to the sculptor. Benlhuer, for the equestrian statue in which she will represent a colonel of the cavalry re‘lmenl named after hen