Evening Star Newspaper, July 25, 1926, Page 78

THE SUNDAY STAR, CHIVALRY I Nothing to Inspire Knightly Deeds Nowadays—Awful Young Women—Linny One of the . Worst—Unanimous Vote. HE conversation of the six men | ceased as Linny entered the library. She strolled through the half-open door, raised thin black eyebrows in_annoyance bt finding the room occupled, pur oined a few matches from her father's wilver holder on the desk, and strolled out. She was a thin young thing, with # satiny mop of short black hair and gn insufferable air of self-possession. Besldes a purple silk handkerchief pround her head, she wore a tan- gerine-colored woolen bathing- suit. The six men were: Prof. Ira Muss- , in his early 70s; John Hoterick, late 60s; Henry Bean, in his ; 50s; George Gray, in his last n Gray, who was 29, and - Arthur Kemmer, 31 Prof. Mussmull was a Ph. D. and some other letter: too, a ver: yespected holder of the chair of eco- nomics in an educational institution— glso Linny's granduncle on her mother’s side. Toterick., his lifelong griend, was a sclentific horticulturist George Gray was Linny's father. 1a was in the lumber business. Henry ean was his partner. Burton Gray was his nephew, and therefore cousin to Linny. Arthur Kemmer was a yising young architect and partner of Rurton; their friendship was college Torn. ~Kemmer was from another istate Burton’s attitude toward his siim cousin was ultra brotherly. He had get his jaws at her entrance, as if her appearance mortified him. Conversation was resumed, but on a farter note, as if Linny had spurred PBix tongues. “They roll their own,” snapped Burton. “Let 'em hold their own!” Tle had risen to close the door which g,mnv had left wide open. He paused, hand on knob, to snap his fingers. “Well, as T was about to say,” con- tinued the neat, white-halred Muss- snull, “I gave out the topic for the thesis quite thoughtlessly. Really, the subject itself was alien to the course. But my mind was onthe feudal sources of certain modern Jaws. I was amazed at what was said to me. I make it a rule, you know"'— in explanation—"to encourage perfect honesty of comment from my body of students.” “I'll bet the body howled!” Kem- smer was amused. ““You're quite right. One young man felt free to shout that there was no *such _animal Another chuckled: “Chivalry tod: Oh, please let us in- stead write §,000 words on the Prob. able Resurrection of the Crocheted Tidy and Its Effect on Interstate Freight Rates’ Another said quite serious ‘We ought to get double credits for it, Prof. Mussmull. Comes under boilogy, too. Extinct stuff, you ¥now. Disappearance of it. Like our dittle toe.’ " “Clever lads,” sald Burton Gray with the patronage of the succeeding- $n-life alumnus for the existent class- men, a new and crude crowd, of course but capable of development— erhaps—into rising voung persons ike himeélf. “Nowadays you feel like oftering your young women friends smore clothes, not chivalry.” “Every once in a while I see that they still expect us to give them our Eeats in stréet cars,” murmured Kem- mer ironically. “I wonder why? None ©f them are ladles—" “Of course”—the murmur was eld- #rly—"the war helped.” ““According- to some thinkers, wars &fe results, not causes.” “It seems that some degenerate tuirk of human nature has evolved— Jike a sixth toe.” It was Linny's grunting father. “Or grown out, like a_queue on the #oul,” shrugged young Kemmer, who had the forehead of a thoughtful foung man. “Cancer of the soul!” corrected Bean grumplly. “Heard a lecturer say so the other night. World's soul s dls- ®ased. Younger generation is the dis- ease. Spots and all that, you know. “Whatever is the cause,” hotly broke in the prim, gray-haired Hote- yick, who loved plants. “I find the oung women of today insufferable. I o ceased giving them my seat in ptreet cars. Absolutely!” “If one dropped her glove, best glace kid and Parisian stitched, I'm Rfraid the crocodiles would get it for ®ll of my scrambling,” yawned Kem- sner. Linny’s cousin gave a short, unkind taugh and said in mock mirth, “Oh, Arthur, you mean thing! Wouldn't ou scramble? Well"—another laugh ~—"'neither would 1.” * %k ¥ X NVERSATION presently lan- P guished. All were busy men. It &vas a Saturday afternoon. The two woung men had called at the Gray home to discuss with the two experi- enced lumbermen a proposed new building, the plans of which they had a_contract for drawing. * They were to spend the remainder of the day, #vening and following Sunday perfect- fng drawings to be submitted to @ cer- fain committee on Monday. - George Gray himself was to take pfMice that evening as incoming presi- dent of a commercial club. Henry Bean was to be toastmaster at the [ L o | book out of his | The door had not been. quite closed, after all. Linny’s was the voice, tear: ful and dramatie and rage-high. She might have spoken lower or not at all had she guessed her listeners, ' But their previous silence had poinfed to departure {rom the room and the house. Certainly her recital of facts was nothing for a normal girl to wish her male relatives to hear. “Anne, where've you been for the last hour? T've been hunting you like Anne, I've got something to 1. You know Hugg Brown and Bat Westby? 1 wish the two of them were boiled In ethyl! It was all Hugg fault, though! 1 detest him worse than Bat and wish him worse luck!” Anne may have put a query. At least four of the six listeners, who for various reasons did not care to interrupt the telephoner, jumped as Linny’s -cicada-high outburst tore into their ears. “Good heavens, I'm getting at what happened as fast as T can You remember last Wednesday night when we were over at Claire’s tili all hours—well, T was just feeling = little humorous. And it seemed like trivial joke to take Hugg's bill pocket—say, tell me, Anne, tell me this: would you or any one else in the possession of your six senses expect Hugs Brown's bill- book to have anything in it worth a second squint? Tell me! “I give you my word, Anne, T thought it was only his cigarette case—that is, at first. You know he’s always got his good one in pawn and using some old leatherette article. But, anyway, that’s what I thought 1 was soft-fingering from his pocket. and 1 had an idea of filing it up with dead butts. But he saw me take it. Or he says he did. I think some one else blabbed to him. ““Yes, Anne, you're a little Houdin. That piece of leather was stuffed full like. a just-replenished gas-tank, and Hugg says he'll have it back intact. or put me in the hoosegow. Hugg is a cobra! T don’t know how he ever got into our crowd! You know, Anne. our crowd may have its faults. But most of it is human, Anne. Human!” Linny’s vouthful "volce seemed to hold pure sorrow for one individual's lack of character. “Hugg turns out not to be one of us. That's all. And as for Bat—ves, Anne, Bat took me home that night And in the car he fook the bill-book from me. At that, T thought he was joking and would give it back in_the end. But when I heard this unholy shout of joy at the contents—and when I got a glimpse of the platinum chain itself—can't you guess, Anne, what that was? Exactly, Annel Hugg had sneaked it from his mother’s jewel-case only three hours before. And you know Hugg was only one of several who had refused that week to lend Bat a few dollars— Bat was two hundred dollars to the bad over that motor smash-up last month. Well, of course, Bat must have been looking for just such a find. 1 wonder, Anne, Who else in our crowd has paid and paid and paid for knowing him! “I went on my knees to him last night, and begged him to return it to Hugg. And he said there was only one way for Hugg to get.it back, and that was by Dempsey . stuft—nice news for Hugg, who weighs one hun- dred and twelve, poor shrimp, with Bat tipping the Fairbanks at. two hundred and ten, and besides used to be coach’s pet at school. “I've put my side of the case plain- Iy before Hugg. You see, Bat simply defles me to prove that he took it Anne “You know, Anne, where Bat lives? That old red mausoletm on Elm street? His mother's not at home this week. You know she does something in politics and clubs. Anyway, she’s out of town, and Bat put the thing away at home. He had sense enough to know that Hugg could get a gang and waylay him in an alley if it was on his person. But last night Bat snickered that his desk was used to Guestionable fillings. “And around 10 o'clock ~tonight, while Hugg is calling on Claire—and she said she'd make the evening in- teresting enough to hold him in her father’s library—why, I'm going to et into the stby domicile by that hall window and jimmy that great mahogany desk that Bat smirks over when he mentions it. 1 don’t know a lot about the inside of the house— Bat’s mother won't stand for our crowd’s parties, hut with a flashlight and a screwdriver from mother's {coupe I can find the folding doors and the right pigeonhole, provided I'm not interrupted. “And that's why I'm phoning you, Anne. Didn’t you say that your moth- or's Minna. is & cousin of Mrs. West- by’s Greta? There's only the one maid on the Westhy premises, and if she can be got out of the way. . . Thanks, Anne! I'll do something for you some day. 'By! I'll ring you around 1 a.m. and let you know if I'm at home or in jail.” Click! Light_steps going slowly down the hall. The whiff of a scented cigarette. Tn his library George Gray, his face flushed, said: “Gentlemen, do not be alarmed. My young daughter will not housebreak tonight.” “How'll you stop her?” burst an- grily from his nephew. “Lock her in her room.” k¥ % ROUND 10 o'clock that night, Artbur ‘Kemmer ‘walked up a handsome, shadowy street. He knew that he was about to do a foolish thing. For a little fool of a girl: a girl with whom, too, he had only a perfunctory acquaintance; a girl with whom, moreover, he had no desire to become better acquainted! It was true that in a way he was self-protected. What a poor devii of 2 hobo, or any stranger, could not do without - fnevitable disaster, Arthur Kemmer, member of the Rotary, Cam- mercial, University, Architectural, Art and other clubs, might do‘on a 10-to-7 shot. Caught entering the Westby resi- dence in the absence of son, mistress and servants, he could offer any one of several excuses. He could protest that he thought he was entering the house of a friend, pleading his six brief months’ knowl- edge of the town. Or he could pre- tend, delicately, that he was a_littie under the weather. He could call upon half a hundred friends to help him by their united testimony that he had never done such a thing be- fore, that he was not the sort of per- son to be a lawbreaker. They would say, and believe, that he must have been Il And there was the good old am- nesia bunk. One must have a certain amount of soclal standing to use that with success. But he had the stand- ing. Tt was true that he hoped most sin- cerely that he would need neither varn nor friends. Indeed, had he ac- tually feared the worst, he would have been far from this old, tree-shadowy from me. Still, that doesn't excuse . [g[_[‘l}:;l; : ~ ol | l it street. ,He had, as has been said, a 2 ®THE SILL WAS HIGH. BUT THE FEAT WAS TRIFLING FOR A-LITHE MAN IN THE THIRTIES.” POttt oS £iib’s incidental banquet. It hap- pened that Prof. Mussmull was leav- tng Within two hours to deliver an Smportant address on civics to a learned soclety in a town 60 miles dis- tant. Hoterick, the horticulturist, consulted his watch. An imported orchid was making its initial opening that evening. He was disappointed, £.5 were one or two of the others, that ms pleasure over the plant could not shared by them. was & general movement from ‘but the movement was checked. excited young voice was Al at the telephone in the Hugg for ordering me to do the dirty work and get it back to him, or take the consequences. Hugg says, too, that he's got only my word that Bat took it. And he's let me have only twenty-four hours to return it to his own hands. “What am 1 going to do, Anne?” A youthful voice became firm and vin dictive. “Listen, Aunne: little Eliza will get off the ice, all right, all right. She just phones you for a little aid. Claire Sloame is going to_assist, too. Bat did her some dirt once. Besides, T told her if she didn’t help me. I'd ngyer speak to her again and perhaps e her pay .for that bracelet of mine she clear mind. It was thig possession which gave him.the right to disap- prove of girls like Linny. Linny was one of a long line, a horde, with whom he had come into contact during the recent few -years. He had met them in offices, street cars, restaurants. factorles, theaters, and even on.the rare occasions when he went to church with his mother | back in his home town farther Tast, At intervals, when in a congenial crowd, or even alone, he had pondered serfously on what kind of children would issue from such mothers. Not his children, he had’ declared. . He knew why.he was dohxz.’_fl: foolieh actlon this night. He had- soned it out: Partly because of his friendship for Burt; partly because the girl herself, hysterically shrilling into that phone, had besn such a little ninny. What he was about to do was like—well, it was like helping a little chattering, muddy dog out of a ditch. He would put the recovered prop- erty in a plain paper wrapper ad- dressed to Linny, on_ the Gray hall table. No need for Linny to know who had served her. The little blase might pusunderstand his / belonging’ to the older part of town, had lawns wide and thick, with privet and barberry hedges, hydrangeas and caladium. Bat belonged to what was known as an old family. His mother was the kind of widow for whom safe deposit boxes and trust companies were in. vented. But Arthur understood well enough that only sons like Bat can spend far more money than can ba cajoled out of a conservative widowed mother., * Xk % % w!'TH humor not mellowed by this understanding, he walked to the ont steps and doors of the large brick house. Front doors, be it re. marked! No need to skulk until it was necessary. And later, an open approach at the start might be re- called as legal support. He rang the bell. No answer. Again! None. Good! Faithful Anne had not failed a friend. He slipped around the terrace—to such a name it was justly entitled, with its mas sive stone balustrade—and readily made his way to the hall window which Linny had mentioned. The sill was high. But the feat was trifling for a lithe man in the 30s. The window was unlocked. He made his way down an unlighted hall and reached a pair of folding doors on his left. He sent his pocket flash up and down the hall with excess caution. But emptiness rang llke a gong throughout the house. In the doorway, he was about to flash the little beam over the room that he was entering, when a sound stayed his hand. One hand grasping a heavy curtain fold, he waited, startled. He could not place or define the sound. To the left he edged four inches, drawing the velvet folds about his person. Whoever was in the room had no desire to be known, The one sly sound was followed by silence. Ar- thur walted. ” He feared that it might be Linny. He had not much faith in a portly parent's ability to keep a girl locked in her room. He wished that this lack of falth had come to him sooner. He regretted exceedingly the ex cuse he had made to Burt, back, for getting away. He had said that a headache needed to be walked off. Engrossed in his drawings, Burt had nodded absentiy, not raising his green eye shade. There is no regret, of course. like that of the Mar about to be found out Kemmer wished devoutly that he was back at the desk opposite Burt, wear- ing his own green eye-shade. He be- gan to blush over what Burt would think. Linny would blab the matter abroad, with laughter or a blase shrug of her thin shoulders. He'd cut a figure! He'd be—— There came a second. shock. By this time, without the least sound, he had practically shrouded himself in the velvet curtain of the door- way It was well. Some one else had crawled through the hall window and was approaching silently down the hall. And that some one, coming, coming closer, was about to enter— was entering the library. Kemmer, almost flattened against the jamb, had actual but unpreceived contact with the person entering. By this time he was mastering the dark in that small degres of which the optical never is capable when light is nearly lacking. But it was more by a concentration of the six senses than by sight or by hearing that Kemmer knew that this third person—counting himself and some one already in the room—was mak- ing careful way toward the most im- portant object in the room. the hand- some old desk. Then he heard again that first small, sly sound! But now, instead of alarming him,—ch, the courage induced by a curtain!—it gave him & malicious satisfaction. Number One —so he designated whoever it might be, man or girl, who was first on the premises—was undoubtedly as panic- stricken as himself, Number Two. And Number Three seemed to have been galvanized in his tracks. Arthur could almost' place the small, sly sound of Number One, too. Tt was opposite the door—at what he would say was the southeast corner of the room. And then he had another shock. Number Two, had he fatuously ‘styled himself? Surely there had been a squirming movement in the north- west corner of the room. That would make four people. His spine had a chill teeling. "The chill feeling spread from spine to knees. As still as the door-jamb {tself, he stood. For now a fifth person was coming down the hall. And.a fifth person was step- ping noiselessly through the doorway into the library, almost touching him. The fitth person who hdd entered the room must have gained some.sort of, shelter. There came a small sound, like a suppressed cough, from the southwest corner. The last to enter must have got behind a chair. A heavy, handsome old rocker seemed to have been moved perhaps the six- teenth of an inch. Our fathers’ rock- ing-chairs were not moved even so little' a distance without uttering a dignified creak. * ok ok K RTHUR KEMMER hastily ‘made up his mind. . Thank heaven he honest, luck enough—to stay at the door. He might be able to unswathe himself from the velvet curtain, gain the hall, sprint down it and jump through the window to safe lawn and then strest—and then those safe bachelor quarters where his good friend Burt was engrossed in assidu- Qus labor. Absorbed, he had not heard fresh, | careful footsteps from- the window, down the hall— Ah! The unexpected happened. This ! 1ast comer was warler than the others and knew, moreover, that a velvet curtain hung at hand. Fingers reached, clutched, taught. A thin, small form flattened into supposed shelter. Oh—gurgle! 2 Gurgle that never rose upon the air! Arthur had hig hand hard upon her mouth, and had gtherwise so grasped her body that #he could not twist a thin shouider or wiggle an ankle. “Keep stilll” he breathed grimly in her ear. [ Somehow he knew that it was Linny. And her hair was so perfumed that her presence would betray itself to a dozen dark rooms. It was a mixed Parisian-named scent; too, that he de- tested: for six months it had been the rage among Linny’s kind, and had as- sailed him in theater, restaurant and elevator. Because of this close contact, he was afraid that his own clothes would reek of it. Good heavens, he'd haVe to give this suit away. She atm%led wordlessly. But it was like holding a skinny child. She had no chance. He was making ready WASHINGTON, D. €, JULY 25, 1926—PART 5. ” 7 W Zite” to leap down the hall, incommoded as he was by her, when—stumble! Not Kemmer himself. Some one in the room. A heavy foot had hit some- thing heavier, like an old walnut leg of & chair. “Hang ft!"" Almost Kemmer let Linny go. That throaty voice sounded familiar. And it was no young man’s voice! He be- came aware, too, that the girl in his arms had seemed to collapse, to be incapable of movement. The speaker must have been the last to enter the ropm. And he seemed not a crafty person He flashed a large pocket light over the room. He had careful, middle-aged movements. And his own light revealed him. Linny must have shuddered. He disregarded which Kemmer caught, -—~he saw a foot. Not his own foot. Anotlfer man’s! Kemmér saw it too. The leg to which this foot was attached was behind a revolving bookcase in the southeast corner of the room It was a thin, old-fashioned leg. “Come out,” said Linny's father, commandingly ““Whether you're young Westby or a common burglar!” Rather tremblingly the leg came— also its mate, and a neat white head. W] v, what are you doing But he saw you, George” tremu- lously retorted the addressee. There was no reply. The flash lamp had come to rest upon something prim and white, with a bald epot, at- one side of a huge brown leather couch in the northwest corner of the room. ‘The bald spot rose. A form that had been on all fours appeared. had had gumption enough—no, to be, “It's only me,” a volce said, waver- ingly. “You!” You!" “You had a lectiire in Oaktow: “T sent word I was detained by an accident.” A sneeze! A sneeze from somebody under a massive walnut desk. Henry Bean crawled out somewhat sheepishly and was helped to his feet by six hands. “Whatever that Bat fellow may be," he declared with heat, “his mother is a poor product. Instead of gallivant. ing and leaving her house to be en- two slight sounds | tered by any one at all, she'd better stay at home and stand over a hired girl while the dust gets wiped from the hidden places in this room.” Speaking earnestly, he had moved his foot. “Ouch!” sald a voice, resentfully. Four electric torches were turned under a heavy armchair “It's me,” sald Linny’s cousin Burt, scrambling out and up. “No, I don't feel even a-platonic affection for my irresponsible cousin Linny. 1 pity the man she marries. But | must say, Uncle George, you might have trusted me to help the ljttle idiot out of her scrape—althovgh I'll say I only by ac- cident managed to evads Arthur and get here. But for you, Uncle George, to engage in anythins so questionalle —even risky- 2 e , you fool”" snorted his un ‘ve known Mary Westhy since third grade in school. And I'd be glad if she caught me here, or that son of hers, either. And if you'll t=ll me what else I could .do except try to keep my name and my child's out of the newspapers and save her from consequences which she richly de- serves—but which no father couid make up his mind to let her incur, even if he had to break into an old friend’s house, like a common law- breaker! Had to send word, too, to the Rotarfans that 1 sprained my ankle!"” ] was Burt who suggested that they put hands upon what they had come for, and depart. Five lights played over the desk There came five grunts of satisfs tion. A platinum link shone from a. bursting clasp. Besides, it was let- tered “H. Brown." “‘Here's a rubber band,” offered the cousin. ‘“Seems intact." The father put it into his pocket and then the five filed through the door- | way. Kemmer thanked dead archi- tects for double doors and velvet por- tieres. When, clumsily for the most part, and with audible grunts, the five had gone through the window at the end of the hall, Kemmer gave an ex- clamation. Linny had set her teeth into his palm. “Your hand became tiresome,” she whispered viclously. “Who are you?" * ok kK Doesn’t matter." “You're not Bat. You're too thin, You're not Hugg. You're too tall.” She ran her free hand over his face, Te regretted his tortoise-rimmed glasses. Still, these are fairly com- mon. She did not recognize him by them, But she flashed an unexpected elec. tric torch. Too late he tried to turn his face. What are you doing here?” . “I hardly know.” he snapped. “Pos- sibly primeval instinct—if you know what that means.” ‘I never dreamed that you had an idea outside yourself and your future!" “Really . “Well"" — defensively — “you rising voung professional mefi are so fond of vourselves. It sticks out all over vou. I always feel very sorry for your wives.” “Oh, you do?" bait “Well, the poor things—the wives, I mean—have to be so much on the job—helpful creatures, you know, who never become discouraged. You know all that junk you read in married- life_stories.” “Hadn't we better belon our way? he said. with dignity. Then he wished that he had not said that. Her way need not be his. He played his electric torch down the hall and followed the gleam. But she was quick to keep at his side. “Don’t leave me!” crossly. “I didn't think the house would be so dark.” “Is that all you're thinkin demanded, with asperity. “No!" unexpectedly she retorted. —~I'm so surp d T don't want to think. About all of you!" “I hope your friend Hugg will be satisfied.” ““T hope so, too. minded worsf “The tooth?" said Kemmer, involun- Sarcasm rose to her It was the tooth he “Hugg's first baby tooth, which his mother had set with a tiny sapphire and hung on a platinum chain. Bat was so delighted to get it, and he threatened to take it to college to show every one—-" ¢ “I'm dumbfounded,” she said oddly, | 1¢ “Was that the most valuable thing in that bill-book for which we risked - ““Oh, there was other stuff! Thera was a bill for Hugg's toilet water—he was wild for fear the fellows would find out how much he spends on that —and a charge slip for the electric horse that he was trying to learn to ride on at home In priva Hugg « always talking about renowned poio player: T see,” said Kemmer, grimly. “How pleased your father and cousin and others will be when they learn They had come to a cross street. “How did_you get out of yoi room?” he asked “Two nail files for unscrewing the whole lock.”, She waved a hand and began to run down the side street “Good-night! T want to get home first.” | Arthur Kemmer rejoined his friend and professional ciate, who with {amount of trust and calm. he | Linny an eyeshade was bent over desk and {architectural plans. But was scow |ing, as if the work was hard. | ““Hdachache better?" he asked “Much.” | Kemmer did not | conversation with Burt. Linny occu |pied his mind. He found himself | dwelling unwillingly upon what sort | of a wife Linny would make a rising young profess! man. He feared fthat she we be a distracting help | meet. true, of course, that no ma yearns for a too docile one likes to ap proach with a_certain Whereas feel inclined for wife. Still, the future | He gave a sigh. He did not lke | the aspect of the future. It gleamed | uncertainly, that future—like qui silver. On the other hand, it might prove to be real silver. He sighed again- helplessly, but not as if overdismayed. Linny had been a soft and scented armful. He rather regretted now that the evening was over. The tooth marks in his palim still hurt. He looked at them surreptitiously and grinned. The little vixen! But could anybody really blame her? Somehow e couldn't. (Copsrisht. 1928.) Col. Cope at 92 Celebrates Appointment For New Term as Gettysburg Official BY REX COLLIER. OL. EMMER BRADLEY COPE, - soldier, artist, mete- orologist, civil engineer, in- ventor and philosopher, held a joint celebration at his home in Gettysburg Friday. The venerable nonagenarian cele- brated not only his ninety-second birthday anniversary but also his re- appointment for a term of two years as superintendent of Gettysburg Na- tional Military Park. In recommending to Secretary of ‘War Davis that Col. Cope's tenure of office be extended it was reported through official channels that “he is physically and mentally able to con- tinue his duties in a satisfactory and efficlent manner.” The officials who rendered that re- port were not influenced by senti- ment. . They merely “stated in a for- 'mal way, for purposes of record, what everybody in Gettysburg and 'thou- sands of tourists to the bloody bat- tlefield already know. This remarkable gentleman, - of sturdy Quaker parentage, did not re- ceive his friends by extending a_ pal- sied hand from a cushioned armchair. Contrarywise, he met them more than half way with a hearty grip, and later set his six-foot husky hulk down to as complete and appetizing a din- ner as ever graced the table of a Pennsylvania. husbandman. . Ninety-two years . of clean living, ifeatured by “gallant and meritorious services" on the fleld of battle and a Tong career of distinguished activity in time of peace, have rewarded Col. Cope with the priceless gifts of good health, .sound sleep—and jongevity. The colonel would be “news’” even though the War Department had not seen fit to make him chief executive of Gettysburg’s 3,000-acre fleld of honor and superintendent of a force of 41 men-—some of them more than half a century younger than he. All his life a shunner of personal s has been relentless d by | unique personality. Anycitizen near- ing the century mark who can hold two important Government positions at once, hoast of two inventions, dis- play creditable works of art done by nis own hand and point to a score of equally interesting accomplishments is worth a story any time. Col. Cope is such a citizen. In addition to being superintendent of the battleground reservation, he is a co-operative observer for the United States Weather Buredu. He maintains in the back yard of his quaintly fur- nished brick residence in the heart of ‘the city a minfature weather sta- tion, equipped with the usual instru- ments for recording temperature, pre- cipitation and other weather phenom- ena, Each night, after completing his labors for the day in his military park office, he studies ‘these instru- ments carefully and records his find- ings in an official chart book. - His reports are mailed dafly to the Weath- er Bureau. He recelves 7y rémunera- tion for this service, nnbht 1t sole- ly because of his great love for me- teorology. As for his other assignment, it can be sald of Col. Cope that he is the best Hving authority on the battle of Gettysburg and the history of the | scene of action. It is but natural that he should’ know a great deal about the battle, having fought in it. Col. Cope, member of Gen. G. K. ‘Warren's Engineers, was attached to Gen.. Meade's staft. Warren's men arrived at Gettysburg on the second day of the three-day conflict and took an active part in the fighting around Little Round Top and at other stra- tegic points. He was then serving as a volunteer officer in the Army of the Potomac. On July 4, 1863, the| COL. day following the extended battle, Cope conducted a comprehensive sur- vey of the whole terrain at the direc- tion of Gen. Warren, and it was this survey, effected while many of the bodies of his comrades and of the en emy still formed a gruesome back- ground for his work, that was the basis of the permanent marking of the battleground. On the wall of the Cope living room —it is really an old-fashioned parior— hangs Col. Cope’s commission as ‘“captain and aide-decamp,” dated April 25, 1864, and bearing the signa- tures of Abraham Lincoln and Secre- tary of War Stanton. The colonel re- mained in the service to the end of the war, whereupon he was brevetted EMMOR BRADLEY COPE: lieutenant colonel of volunteers and retired. On' the same walls hang large oil paintings of President Lincoln, Gen. Meade, Col. Cope's parents and of rural scenes about Gettysburg—all products of the Cope brush -and palette. Critics have spoken very favorably of these works, especially those of Lincoln and Meade. In Col. Cope's office is a room-size relief map of the battlefleld, with minature farmhouses, fences, corn- flelds, trees and other objects In ex- act replica of the actual landscape. This is another creation of the colonel's mind and band. Tt was exhibited at the St. Louis and Seattle expositions and a movement is on foot to send it to the Sesquicenten- nial in Philadelphia. Col. Cope first hecame connected with the Gettysburg Park in 1893, when he was appointed chief “engi- neer of the Gettysburg National Military Commission. All the mem- bers of that commission since have died. Cope was made superintendent four years ago. Tt was Col. Cope who designed and constructed the five steel towers which serve as “look-outs” for the thousands of visitors from this coun- iry and abroad who inspect the bat- tlefleld vearly. As further evidence of his mechanical turn of mind, he has patented a turbine wheel and an_agricultural nrachine. The colonel is an inveterate reader, principally of scientific books and magazines. His chief hobby is paint- ing. He hasn't much use for auto mobiles, still holding to his beloved old gig and its genial colored driver. He is in full possession of all his faculties and boasts of perfect eve- sight and hearing. He wears spec- tacles while reading, however. Of devout parentage, Col. Cope al- ways has been fctive ‘in urch work, and at present is an elder of the Gettysburg Presbyterian Church He has missed but few services in more than half,a century. L “Regular, temperate habits in all | things," is the explanation Col. Cope gives his friends who inquire for hix .rfl‘!pte for long life and health. Hé | eats three hearty meals a day, arises early and retires usually rather late, alming 1o]r nbg\n elght hours peaceful sleep, however. “I have never been really sick my lite,” Col. Cope declares. naven't time to think about sickness, g0 T just haven't been bothered by such things.’ . And that philowrply 9f optimism ts the whole secret of Coi. Cope’s ex- traordinary vitality, his friends thor- oughly belleve. Really Hard Work. YING is hard work, according to a Danish physiologist. His ex- periments have shown that the tissue changes taking place ‘in a crving baby are double those that eccur' in a baby who is asleep. i )