Evening Star Newspaper, January 13, 1929, Page 91

BY JOHN CLAGETT PROCTOR. O the average person a cemetery is not a very cheerful place, but to the historian and the geneal- ogist it affords much comfort and information. Here families may be traced for generations and events, almost forgotten, again vividly brought to mind by a simple name or epitaph _upon some time-worn slab or tomb. Indeed, such a burial place is Oak Hill Cemetery, with its unmarked graves, its simple markers, its towering shafts, or its modest or pretentious mausoleums. Beneath these, however— be they simple or elaborate—sleep side by side as one, the rich and the poor, the humble and the great. Perhaps 1t s safe to say that of all the cemeteries in the world, none has a more picturesque setting than has Osak Hill, for here the hand of nature has prepared a final resting place such as would delight the most exacting taste of the landscape artist, commanding as it does the most charming views of the valley of Rock Creek, with its broken vistas and its hills and dales. Surely the judgment of its selection as a site for a necropolis but adds to the wisdom of the donor, W. W. Corcoran, and had this noted citizen done nothing else in his lifetime, this one thoughtful and generous act would have caused his name to be long remembered by a grate- ful public. Known in the early days as Parrott's ‘Woods, it was a well-known and favorite place for the Fourth of July and other celebrations, and here the famous ora- tors of a hundred years ago explained to eager listeners the causes which led up to the American Revolution and which made our glorious country free and independent. Here the laughter of the children could be heard in the Summertime as they romped over the hills or sang “Charley Buck Had Money Enough.” swinging themselves to the highest pos- sible plane in that old grapevine swing, just as you and I delighted to do many | years ago. Here Richard Parrott had his rope walk—just to the west of this cemetery roper, where is now a public park, and the heavily wooded part of the cem- etery to the east all kinds of celebra- tions were held. One of the most notable events which took place here was the paying of funeral honors to the memory of Gen. James M. Lingan, who for many years was a citizen of Georgetown. Just where he ever got the title of “general” no one seems to know. He did serve a8 captain in the American Revolution and became an original member of the Society of the Cincinnati. He was a personal friend of Wash- ington and was beside an original pro- prietor of the District of Columbia, owning that part of the tract of land known as Widow's Mite embraced with- in the city limits. Lingan helped the first President materially in acquiring title to the prop- erty necessary for the seat of Govern- ment, and was in every way a prom- inent and useful citizen. * %k % TH:E year 1812 was election year, and % war had been declared against QGreat Britain on Friday, June 19, 1812. Lingan, in politics, was a Federalist, ‘and the Federal Republican, the organ of that party, was being published in Baltimore, with Alexander Contee Han- son as editor. The sentiment in Baltimore was Democratic and not in sympathy with Lingan's party, which was against the administration, and on June 21, 400 men and boys assembled with axes, hooks, ropes, etc., at the office of the Republican, corner Gay and Second streets, and destroyed everything in sight, including the furniture, presses, tyg_e. and even the house itself. he paper was then removed to ‘Georgetown, where it was published for a short while, when Mr. Hanson re- turned to Baltimore and continued the blication of the per in a small ouse on South Charles street, although the actual printing was still done in Georgetown. When he returned to Baltimore, he ‘was accompanied by Gen. Lingan, Gen. Henry Lee (Light Horse Harry), father of Gen. Robert E. Lee, C. S. A.; Capt. Richard Crabb, Dr. Philip Warfield, Charles J. Kilgour, Otho Sprigg, Ephraim GQGaither, and John Howard Payne, the author of “Home, Sweet Home,” all ardent supporters of the policies for which the Federal Republi- can stood. Here, on the evening of July 27, the house was again attacked by the mob, and the Lingan party, in self-defense, was forced into shooting Dr. Gales and r | William Smith whije they were at-|® umpun%ow gain entrance into the ‘Thouse. th parties :ere heavily armed and determined and the militia was ordered out and those within the house finally marched to jail. Here the mob finally got the upper hand of things and 8o brutally beat Gen. Lingan that he died soon afterward. Gen. Lee re- ceived a fractured skull and other in- Jjuries from which he never fully recov- ered and which undoubtedly shortened his lee.m ‘The ly of Gen. Lingan was re- turned to Washingion, and all respect due to his honorable services in the Revolutionary War was paid his mortal remains. There was then no church or men of different denominations. of Capt. Stull's Rifle THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. ©; JANUARY' 13, 1920— ~ Men of Note Buried in Tract Once Known as Parrott’s Early History of Oak Hill Cemetery Is Linked With Important Events in National Capital—Donor, W. W. Corcoran, Was Known for His Thoughtful and Generous Acts in the Public Interest. . THE BODISCO GRANITE SHAFT, OAK HILL CEMETERY. large enough to accommodate the crowd which desired to attend his funeral, and Parrott'’s Woods was selected for this urpose. The procession started from Union Tavern, at Thirtieth and M streets, to the strains of a funeral dirge, and moved thence to the appointed place where the services were held. Minute s were fired from a new ship in the arbor owned by Washington Bowie, a Georgetown merchant, and named the QGeneral Lingan, and Washington's tent, now in the National Museum, was spread over the stand erected for the speakers. Francis Scott Key, author of “The Star Spangled Banner,” was invited to deliver the oration, but so bitter was the party feeling, that he was unable % accept the invilation, and George ashington Parke Custis, owner of Arlington, and dson of Mrs, Wash- ington, was sul ted. Of interest is the following order of the funeral march as it appears in the records of the Columbia Historical Bociety: = Marshal on horseback. Four cléom- m- mittee of arrangements. Mr. Custis f Arlington, orator of the day. Music, Corps, commanded with the by Lieut. Kurts. Hearse, Four ven- horses clad in mourhing. each side of hearse. gan, the general's son, chief mourner. The general’s horse in mourning, led by a groom. Family and relatives of the deceased, in coaches. The wounded veteran, Maj. Musgrove, who survived the midnight massacre in which his brother soldier fell, bearing the gen- eral's sword and supported by iwo heroes of the Revolution. Mr. Hanson, and other survivors of the band, who defended the liberty of the press. Vet- ran Band of the Revolution. Strangers of distinction. Citizens from the Coun- ties of Montgomery, Baltimore, Fred- erick, Charles, Prince Georges and St. Marys and from the cities of George- town, Wi n and _ Al 3 Marshal on horseback. Capt. Petet's troop of horse commanded by Lieut. John 8. Williams. * % %k % THE interment of the body of Gen. Lingan was made in the grounds about the home on Foxhall road, & short distance north of Condult road. In May, 1903, Dolly Madison Chapter of the Daughters of the American Rev- structure in Washington or Georgetown erable pallbearers, with white scarfs, on | to rge Lin patriot’s grave, and in November, 1908, the body was transferred to Arlington National Cemetery and reinterred with the honors due an officer of his rank. It would hardly seem consistent to assoclate a banquet with a cemetery, and yet in these very grounds a force of 280 men, under the command of Maj. ueoaee Peter, was dined and wined by citivens after that force had returned from its march to Bene- dict, Md., in search of the British in June, 1814. Two months later this same Maj. Peter led the artillery com- y from Georgetown in the battle of ladensburg, August 24, 1814. It was this densely wooded tract of land that was purchased in 1847 by Mr. Corcoran, and after spending an initial sum of $70,000 in its improvement he nobly presented it to his native town. On March 3, 1849, when the charter of the ?’n: X'g(lll Cemetfiry Comp;llly Was ‘Passe y ngress, he generously con- veyed mm‘unfio h'\: gompeny for the purpose of a Gemetery. originally consisted of but 38 acres, which ‘were purchased from Lewis Washington of Jefferson County, Va. Subsequent purchases—including the S8amuel David- son tract, near which stood his hand- some resitlence known as Evermay—have brought the acreage up considerably. For the first 15 acres Mr. Cotcoran paid $3,000; other expenditures brought the tal amount up to $120,000. Looking through this city of the dead we find the graves of many whose names have become historic, such as Edwin M. Stanton, the great War Secre- tary of President Lincoln, who resided and died in the big double house at 1323 K street northwest, December 24, 1869. (Incidentally, this house bears the bronze marker of the Permanent Com- mittee on Marking Points of Historic Interest.) A monument marks the last resting place of Gen. Jesse Lee Reno, who fell at the battle of Bouth Moun- tain, September 14, 1862. All motorists who have traveled between this city and Hagerstown will recall the markers de- scribing this battle at the top of the mountain, which lies between that city and Braddock Heights. Fort Reno, just north of Georgetown, which was used as a Civil War fort, was named in Gen. Reno's honor. One of the most interesting graves in the cemetery is marked with a granite shaft. It was erected to the memory of Count Alexander Bodisco, the Russian minister to the United States. It was cut in Russia and was sent from 8t. Petersburg by the Rus- sian government. On it is carved the olution put a bronze marker over the following inscription: “Sacred to the GEN. JAMES MACCUBBIN LINGAN. (Reproduced from the miniature by Peale, the original being owned by the National Museum.) THE CORCORAN-EUSTIS MAUSOLEUM, OAK menory of Alexander de Bodisco, Chamberlain, Private Counsellor of His Majesty, slans; His Envoy Extmrduur{, and Minister Plenlpounm? to nited Btates, died January 23, 18 ‘This sy, indeed, C t8, story of Og.aeomwwn. the Emperor of All the Rus- & beautitul * X X% WAY back in May, 1841, or there- abouts, there lived in this thriving town this same Russian minister. He liked children and occasionally enter- tained those belonging to his friends at his home. Living also in Georgetown was one Harrlet Beall Willlams, daugh- ter of Brooke Williams, then chief clerk of the adjutant general’s office. She was only 16, while the count’s age is variously recorded as from 50 years up. Russia was then on very friendly terms with the United States, and, conse- quently, its minister was more than highly regarded. Miss Willlams was tall, and the hand- somest girl in Georgetown, The count, at times, found it quite agreeable to escort her to school, which she was still attending. He proposed, and she accept ed, and, as true love never runs smooth, there had to be some objection, and this was supplied by Miss Willams' fam« They sald the count was too old and too ugly. However, Harriet was willing to accept his offer. Bodisco was one of the brainiest dip- lomats ever sent to this country, al though, in appearances, he was far from yreposcuml and this, and the youth- ulness of Miss Willlams created more gossip than any marriage which ever took place in the Distriet of Columbia. If all the things sald about the count were true he surely was not favored with good looks. Old, ugly, stout, with Midwinter Madness Becomes Epidemic BY WEARE HOLBROOK. ERHAPS it is the effect of too much steam heat. I don't know. There must be some deep, underlying reason for the cp! demic of playfulness which rav- ages the adult population of the United States in the dead of Winter. Whatever the cause may be, its re- sults are deplorable, The beginn are innocent enough. A stout, middl aged percon walking to his office in the morning sces a little glare of ice on the sidewalk ahead of him. If brings back memories of his childhood. Glancing over his_shoulder cautiously to see if he is observed, he takes a few ducklike steps, and slides across the ice. As he slides one of two things hap- ns to him: (a) he falls down, or lg) e doesn’t fall down. If he falls down, well and good; he is through for the Winter. 1f he doesn't fall down (and, comic supplements to the contrary not- withstanding, the chances are 8 to 5 that he does not), he immediately be- comes inoculated with the germ of boyishness. QGradually he degenerates into a great big overgrown kiddie, socking elderly acquaintances in the back of the neck with snowballs and behaving generally like & case of arrested develop arrested, but not convicted. What 15 worse, his behavior is contagious. One pair of rompers can aisorganize an entire community. What they usu- ally do is to instigate skating partles and sleigh rides. Now, old-fashioned skating parties weren't so bad, as I re- member them. The skates had straps 2nd clamps which were always getting loose, and an unenthusiastic skater could spend most of his time fussing with buckles and bolts. But these modern skates, that are shoes as well, offer no opportunities for relaxation and meditation. Once you lace them on your feet they are there to stay—until the ambulance surgeon s them. 1d harness-type skates were the best. Personally, I always liked them Joose enough to jump out of in case of But there is no sicate that is riveted to the sole of your shoe; it i5 iike a malig- nant growth or a constitutional amend- ment. ] COMPARBD to skating, sleigh riding is simple. iting | All you have to do is to pened, but every one feels sentimentally that it must have happened, and there is always a faint hope that it may happen again. It was this hope that Mr. Swivel ex- ploited when he organized his sleighing party during our last heavy snow. “I've found a regular, old-fashioned bob- sled,” he confided to me. “The Kkind we used to hitch rides on when we were 29| boys. It belongs to a draymen; been in lils family for 50 years, and still in good condition. He says he'll rent it to us, ¢ | With a team and driver, any night we want it. We'd better take advantage of the opportunity before the snow melts.” We took advantage of the opportunity. The drayman’s family heirloom, loaded to the gunwales with hay and human- ity, caused quite a stir in theneighbor- hood. The bells on the horses jingled merrily on the frosty air, and Mr. Swivel had brought along a tin trumpet which he tooted whenever we stopped to pick up a member of our party. There were eight of us, not counting the driver, and as every one had been urged to bring plenty of blankets, the capocity of the aged sleigh was taxed to the uttermost. Sleigh riding is primarily a rural sport. The jingling bells connote white landscapes and quiet country roads covered with snow. But our driver scemed to be under the impression that we were on a sightseeing tour; he headed straight for the business dis- trict, and before we could redirect him we found ourselves in the palpitating heart of a traffic jam. It may be jolly to sing “Over the River and Through the Woods” while one is gliding across the drifted snow; but when one is merely breathing car- bon monoxide fumes and waiting for the green light to flash, it seems rather futlle. A constraint settled upon us which even Mr. Swivel and tin trumpet could not dispel. Taxicabs, limousines and street cars hemmed us in, but did not hide us. Immediately ahead of us two trucks with huge banners and a calliope ad- vertized “Children of Passion” at the Whatamount Theater. The crowds on we were part of the procession, for they stared at us curiously, and several urchins began following our sleigh and pelting snowballs at us. Mr, Swivel laughed boyishly when the first blob of snow plunked against the side of the sleigh. “Don’t pay any at- tention to them,” sit. In the mind of every man there Jingers the memory of a sleigh ride' them.” that was jolly. Perhaps it never hap- “Oh, let them have thelr fun,” said \be b-oophl” the sidewalks evidently assumed that | whispered Mrs. Feenstrah. “They may stop if we ignore | Americans,” declared Mr. Swivel toler~ LLIAM PINKNEY, OAK HILL CEMETERY. HILL CEMETERY, a broad, Kalmuck face, much wrinkled, whisk« a shiny sums up a few of the prominent e ers; his bal brown wig. count’s unfortunate characteristics. brows and shaj te covered wx‘g In addition to being of tender age, ;he er handsome and amiable. together thers, less | when he should be taken away, for, he bride was a great favorite wi gnhoolmates, Some sald it was the bflmnx of May and December, while of generous, compared the contrac parties to “Beauty and the Beast.” ook ok THE wedding took place in the home | married an English of the bride's father, amid splen- dor such as never had been seen in| teent this city before and, perhaps, seldom ‘The bridesmaids were all young, o to harmonize with the youthfulness of | the rear, since. with the age and dignity of the bride- groom. Jessie Benton, aged 14, who aft- erward eloped with John C. Fremont, | later the first Republican candidate for the presidency, and who was the daugh- | ter of Senator ‘Thothas H. Benton of Missouri, was one of the bridesmaids. {She was attended by the then Senator | Buchanan, who afterward became the fifteenth President of the United States. The Chevalier de Martini, Min- ister from The Hague, accompanied the lovely 16-year-old daughter of Com- modore Morris, and the British Min- ister, Henry Stephen Fox, another of he groomsmen, appeared resplendent in & court suit of scarlet and gold. The bride, who was given away by Henry Clay, wore a dress of white satin and silver lace, which was fashioned after the costume of a Russian bride; the low<cut dress showing to perfection her lovely white shoulders and neck. A coronet of red velvet, blazing with diamonds, rested upon her golden hair. The bridegroom wore his court dress “f'fiméumummdlm' thering attend e ing attend- 8 umflny included the t and his cablnet, the diplo- matio corps in full regalia, officers of the Army and Navy in uniform, and many other distinguished persons. The knot was tied by the Rev. Holliday Johns. After the wedding the "bride was driven to her new home in the count’s private cal drawn by four horses, the festivities lasted for a month. They were entertained at the White House, and & number of dances and recep- tions were given in their honor. The marriage of Count Bodisco and Miss Williams proved a very happy one, sincé the parties lived together until the count’s death in 1854, leaving her a widow with seven sons, it is reported. gxflm was more unselfish than muz husbands would be and prior to his death urged his wife to remarry said, he wanted her to make some other m-n just as happy as she had made im. Complying wtih his request, she later Army officer, Capt. Douglas Gordon 8cott, " the ceremony ukl.n‘gl place in Old 8t. John's, at Six- and H streets. They went to E.‘n:]x-nd to live, and she died and was buried abroad. Bodisco mansion is still standing, which formerly was the front, the bride, and the groomsmen were |being at 3314 O street northwest, and selected from among circle fitting in | those whose minds tend toward looking Woods backward will be rewarded in seeing this historic home. * ok ok ok COUNT BODISCO and Mr. Corcoran were very close friends and fre- quently corresponded with each other. Upon one occasion when the philan- thropist was making & business trip to Europe he addressed & note to the count, who was then in Russia. To this letter the count replied: “St, Petersburg, the 1st of “Qetober, 1849, b “My Dear Mr. Corcoran: “I was really agreeably surprised to receive your letter, and much pleased to see that you had the resolution to | teave your desk for a second time. AS | you are om this side, do not be in & | hurry to return, and don’t cut short a trip which appears to be perfectly well combined, as everything you combine. To see Switzerland to advantage you must have fine weather. “The Grand Duke’s and Countess | Nesselrode’s deaths have. to some ex- tent, checked my activity. I am now in a falr way of arranging my private affairs, and, very likely, will be in Washington some time in January, re- gretting very much not to be ready to return with you. “As you never have been a sympathizer with anarchy and disorder, you have surely rejoiced at the victory of justice and moderation, and given a due share of admiration to the generosity of the great character that rules the great em- pire. 1 expect to hear by you of the doings in Washington. The Cuba af- fair appears to be a combination of the Texas scheme, and, very likely, the same people are behind the curtain. It ap- pears that California is not sufficient to drain the United States from all the desperadoes. It is true that we supply you handsomely. “will you do me the favor to hand the enclosed to the Hon. Mr. Bell of Tennessee. It contains a& check of 8621, P. silver, which I had some trouble to collect, Should you hear about the Reading bonds anything worth mem- tioning, write to me & few lines at the Foreign Office, ete. . “I thank you for the good care fou take of Mrs. Bodisco's finances. “Tell many pretty things to your in- teresting dnugh{.er. and believe me, “Very sincerely yours, o y“ALl.‘.X. BODISCO.” Within this cemetery are interred the remains of a number of Washington's noted divines. Right before you as you enter the cemetery gates is the statue of william Pinkney, bishop of the diocese of Maryland. The bishop was a close friend of Mr. Corcoran, and had been the rector of Ascension Church for many years before being elevated to the higher office. Not only Mr. Corcoran, but everyone else, loved Dr. Pinkney. He was born in Annapolis, Md., April 17, 1810, and died in Cockeysville, Md., July 4, 1883. He first came to this im= mediate _section as rector of St. Mat- thew’s Church at Bladensburg, being leter transferred to the Church of the Ascension in this city, from which he was later called to the episcopate. Pre- vious to that, however, he was elected assistant bishop of Maryland, ahd was consecrated as such in the Church of the Epiphany, on G street, October 6, 1870. The bishop was a nephew of one of Maryland's most able statesmen, Gen. Wililam Pinkney, who was a mem- ber, in 1788, of the State convention that ratified the Constitution of the United States, and who also was wound- ed at the battle of tflg’:ldem:mflwgl:: leading a company of lemen. He Mmm%r to Russia and United States Senator. The friendship between Dr. Pinkney and Mr. Corcoran was cordial and inti- mate, and the latter took pleasure in reserving a number of letters sent him g the bishop. One in the nature of & Nye:v Year greeting reads as follows: “December 31, 1875. “My Dear Mr. Corcoran: "channnz permit the last day of 1875 to pass without a word of symrlmx from me to you, of the first day of 187 to dawn without the congratulations of the season. To some thé retrospect must be a sweet solace; for with the dew on the flowers they have culled, and the scent of the alabaster box on the air, they must feel that they are blessed, most truly blessed, in that they have lives to bless others. May the next year be laden with blessings, the bless- ing of health and home, the home that childhood makes buoyant. With each coming week, may you feel something of the joy you give others; but, above all, may the bow of hope, the hope that is ‘cast as an anchor within the veil, span the horizon; and the faith that waits to see the salvation of the Lord finds its perfect work in you. Next to “he ability to do great things for the elevation and benefit of our race is the willingness; I should not err if I said above it, for there are thousands who have the ability, while but few know how to use it. You have both, and in this you are blessed. I trust you may he long spared to keep watch over the good_you have done in the institutions you have founded, and to go on doing, on the same enlarged scale of mag- nificence, so that each day shall swell the tide of a gratitude already on the . Affectionately, et y““I PINKNEY." When First Snow Flies Some Great, Big, Overgrown Boy of Forty or Fifty Is Sure to Organize Sleigh- ing Party and Go Searching for Fountain of Youth in Snowdrift. Tries to Remember Those Old Songs. “IT WAS THE TIME AND PLRCE FOR OLD-FASHIONED HILARITY.” Mr, Swivel generously. “We'll show them that we aren't too old to join in their gam>.” He leaned out, scooped up a handful of snow, and flung it at the foremost urchin. There was a yell of rage, and a volley of snowbalis descended upon us. “Oh, Geari” moaned Mrs. Feensirah, retreat- ing under her blanket. “Now you've g:’t'lf i1 Why couldn't you let them “They're just good, healthy young antly. “I admire their spirit. Boys will & large chunk of ice caught him between the shoulder blades. Mr. Swivel gasped. “All right, boys,” he called, with a feeble attempt at good-natured laughter, “that's enough. A joke is a joke, and you've had your-fun. Now run along like little gentlemen, and"— Sock! A well aimed snowball flat- tened itself against the side of his face. “You young crimins shouted M Swivel, leaping up. 've a good mind to have you jailed, every one of you! It's an outrage, Officer!” He beckoned to s policeman, “Aiwest these younsg z 4 But the disappeare suspicton. oung ruffians had promptly 3'. Tiw officer eyed us with “Got & parade permit?” “No,” said Mr. Swivel, “this is a pri- vate party.” “With all them bells on,” the officer reasoned, “you must be advertisin® somethin’. Don't let me catch you run- m;f around here again without & per- mit.” “Yes, sir—er, no, sir,” sald Mr. Swivel. The incident dampened our spirits, which were already quite L 8l it was not until we had escaj the traffic that the party began to show signs of life. Mr. Oddleight sneezed twice, and Mrs. Milfret announced that her foot was asleep. Mr. Swivel at- tempted to blow his trumpet; the mouthpiece was cold and his tongue stuck to it. But in a short time we were well out in the suburbs, It was the time and the place for good old-fashioned hilar- lt{. We should have acted rowdy in a nise way, but we were too thoroughly chilled; “we could only huddle in the bottom of the sleigh like Russian refu- gees sliding down the steppes. “Let's sing some of those old songs,” suggested Mr. Swivel desperately. “What old songs?” asked Mr. Odd- leigh. “Now I sleigh me down to sleep,” a voice murmured under the blankets. “You know those old songs we used to sing on sleigh rides,” said Mr. Swivel vaguely. He cleared his throat and be- gan humming like an electric refriger- ator. “There was one that went—ahem, let me see . . . ‘Luh-luh-luh something arty I was seeing Nellle home, luh- uh-luh something party I was seeing Nellie home'” . . . “That sounds as if it might be lts'e 1t were set to music,” sald Mrs. 't “Surely everybody knows ‘When You and I Were Young, Maggie',” exclaimed Mr. Feenstrah. But it developed that everybody didn’t; not even Mr. Feen- strah. il- or not at all, “Well, how about ‘Don't You Remem- ber Sweet Alice, Ben Bolt?” suggested Mr. Swivel hopefully. There was no re- sponse. Nobody remembered Alice. b ‘Addison Sims of Seattle’,” mur- the drowsy voice. But Mr. Swivel was undaunted. “Sweet Alice with her eye-hi-hi-eyes of blue—no, brown,” he sang hoarsely. “She who wept with delight when you gave her a smile, and something with d | something at your frown.” Several of us whose fingers were half frozen began slapping our hands to- Verses which started out as!JIgland. booming octets ended as wavering s0l0s, | ears and aching fingers were forgotten; gether. Encouraged by this apparent applause, Mr. Swivel scrambled to his feet, stepping on Mr. Feenstrah's soft corn and slvln% Mrs. Milfret a nasty uppercut with his knee. ‘“Folks,” he announced, “I've just thought of an- other song. It goes like this"—— Just at the moment we rounded a turn in the road; the horses sprang for- ward into a gallop, the sleigh lurched violently, and Mr. Swivel flew heels over head into the drifted snow. “That was a good song,” remarked Mr. Feenstrah. The lights of the city shone ahead of us, and we fairly sailed over the white road. The bells jangled madly; the old sleigh creaked and groaned at the un- accustomed speed. “What struck the horses?” asked Mr. Oddleigh nervously, s we sped along. “They aren't running away, are they?" “Not exactly,” grunted the driver, tugging at the reins. ‘“They're just headin’ for the barn, that's all.” * ok K K KIMMING so close to the ground, the sleigh seemed to have the speed of a ?rojecme. As we approached the city imits the driver stood up, leaning back on the reins like a charioteer. "Hnng| on!” he shouted suddenly. “Somethin’s | goin' to happen!” Looking ahead I saw a long expanse of bare pavement before us, dark and terrlf{lng. In our absence the street cleaning department had cleared away the snow! The line of demarcation was abrupt, and there were no detours. ‘When the runners of our sleigh struck the bare macadam they shrieked and came to a slurring halt, But the rest of the sleigh kept going. Runnerless, it bumped along behind the galloping horses, now suspended in midair like the cofin of Mahomet, now bouncing like an aquaplane in the surf. It was more thrilling than anything conceived by the master minds of Coney In the excitement frostbitten I would never ride in that sleigh again. Indeed, according to the law of aver- ages, I am safe in assuming that I will not ride in any sleigh again this season. It will be at least 12 months before the: germ of boyishness can infect me. - I have had my fling. As the é)hllnsopher Bromidius so aptly observed, “We are only young once.” Once every Winter. Day for Babies. THE American who chances to be in Tokio on New Year day remarks that the rikishas, bobbing along behind sturdy little kurumiya, have about them an unwonted air of festivity. Each one that passes fairly bristles with gay papler mache animals carried by the people riding. On closer observa- tions these are recognized as large and small specimens of the toy animal found in Japanese shops in America, which does not exactly resemble either a dog or a cat, but has the character- isties of both. Upon inquiry the visitor learns that the papler mache animals are, indeed, a sign of a special festivity. New Year day, he is told, is the birthday of all babies in Japan. The anniversary is the occasion for visits by adoring rela- tives and friends. The favorite gift is the hari inuko, or “puppy cat,” as the engaging papler mache animals have been called by an American artist. ‘The attention paid to children on New Year day is typical of the affece tion lavished upon them at all seasons in the Land of Cherry Blossoms. In many ways Japan is a paradise for children. Toys are charming and inex- &mflve enough for poorest families. rporal punishment is practically un- known, and discipline as it is exercised by American parents is undreamed of. Automobilists in Tokio literally dodge and when at last the floor of the sleigh gave way and spilled us into the street we were in a gentle glow. There is nothing like a good hard jolt to restore the circulation and relieve numbness. In my opinion, every sleigh ride should end in a runaway; it provides a smash- ing finale to an otherwise dismal evening. To see the medieval instrument of torture disintegrate before your very eyes is worth a few incidental bumps and bruises. As I picked myself up and limped home I had the satisfaction of the children instead of the children having to dodge the automobile, as they do on American streets. PFrequently the automobilist has to halt his car while a small boy chasing a cat across the street captures his quarry, or while & group of excited children continues a game of battledore and shuttlecock. Dr. Mendes, who for 20 years was president of the Unlon of Orthodox Congregations of America, says the time has come to reconvene the “Jewish Sue pm:\el Court, the the&l?!. acig; on _religious questions brought up knowing that, whatever might happen, | mpdern "