Evening Star Newspaper, January 27, 1929, Page 84

| FIRST RUN FICTION I HERE is a prologue to this story % and an epilogue, too. They ar: both brief. The prologue goes thusly: He was an American, from Georgia, and his name was Lee. What he was doing in Russia in those troubled times no one knew. He traveled much. He did not remain there long. During his stay he bought numerous antiques, old and precious things—some of them in the village of Nikclaevsk. Nikolaevek is a remote village and its people are of the “dark people “dark” m that the benefits feor *he Lsht of education never reached if%em. Ther children are going to a school now and the darkness will end when the old ge! eration dies. They are “dark people,” but there ‘is a cleverness that does not ccme from books. When they raided the country house of their neighbor, Count Gryazov, in 1918, they took to themselves all they eould -lay their hands-on. To the count, who had strung some of their {athers over his gate, they accorded the same -privilege. One-room. peasant huts were brightened for some time: -after by a-kouis XVI chajr and a-piece of :Chinese rug. From the headboard of an Empire bed one -peasant ‘made-a box for ‘the- new calf beside the stove. The smaller - things, Jeweled 1kons. glassware, little things, old and precious, they hid. Passing sol- diers did not care about the furniture, but they would take anything too prom- inently displayed that could be put in the pocket. The nflation period came in the land. Rubles were reckoned by lemons, a million, and limards a billion. Then the Amerikanyetz, Mr. Lee, visited the vil- lage. He stayed for a week before the peasants were willing to admit there might be things to buy. The chairs the hangings, even the headboard of the Empire bed, long had passed. And these things did not interest him. He wanted -ikons, preferably jeweled; glassware, little things and precious. There were no offers. These things were better hid beneath the clay floor of the izba than to be exchanged for a mass of limards that few could count properly, and none could say when they would be utterly worthless. At the end of the week Mr. Lee quietly hinted that were there any old things in the village it was possible .that he might give dollari, amerikanski dengi for them. The people of Niko- Icevsk were -“dark people,” but some knowledge comes from hearsay. They had heard of doliari. Ivan Petrov had been to Moscow. “I say a man who for a dollar, a real dol- lar, got more rubles than he .could carry. One dollar is worth, yes, I say, a hundred “limards,” a thousand lim- ards. It never changes. It is green paper, this American money. Russian money is more beautiful, but it is trash Ivan obyiously spoke the truth. Rus- sian money was trash. That every one knew. * oK K K LATE at night, while' only the dogs prowled the muddy market place, Andrei Invanov came to Mr. Lee's quar- RS AND D " THE SUNDAY STAR. By Maurray Dodge Real Money Changed the Course of True Love. ters. He was sieeping in a hay loft behind the village. . The American spoke - little Russian, but the bargain was soon made. For two of the Amer- ican dollars, he received a fifteenth cen- tury ikon, with jeweled frame. The following evening there were two sales. For a few more American dollars a carved amethyst cup and a small set of golden spoons went into his suit case. By the end of the week he had no more of the American dollars, and there was a spot in nearly every izba floor in the village where there had been recent dig- ging. Mr. Lee departed. The affair was no longer spoken of .in the village. 1t is remarkably fortunate,” was the general opinion. “Some of those things were hard to hide, we were afraid to sell them in the city, and at any mo- ment the soldiers were liable to come and search our houses. But let them try to find our dollari. Marousha was the znarkara in the village, the witch doctor, the charlatan, but the only doctor—an old apple wrinkled woman whose house children feared to pass at night. She was the stick that parents held over their chil- dren’s_heads—"Hush, or Marousha will “DON'T YOU REME! M g get you,” carvied great welght until the age of 12. But she was the authority in time of sickness. It was she who knew how long the baby sheuld be kept in the oven to cure rickets. She knew how to ease childbirth. It was she who compounded, with the knowledge the black devil had given her, the paste which stopped eye pains. And she knew many things which the women whispered about among themselves but which the men never heard spoken of. All was not well with her. A new miles away. Many former patients went there without consulting her at all, be- cause it was free and there were new kinds of medicines to try. Others went after taking her treatment and getting worse, which happened frequently. When they recovered, thanks to the hospital, ugly stories passed through the village about her. When, as hap- pened to a few, the hospital did little good, and the sick came back to her, that was her triumph. Then, too, there were some operations which the hos- pital doctor would not do; here Marousha had no competition. But she spoke il of the hospital prophecies about those who went there MBER ME, LADY CLYDE? government. hospital had opened 20| have onc of the prettiest girls in the and her | T AM LORD WIL] Kept some of the timid from going. She made great capital from the death of old- Alexevna. X “She went to the hospital. Her son< in-law had -to_take. a day off from harvest in the fields to drive her there. There she died. And who was it that kept her alive until the day she died in the hospital?” . * K K MAROUSHA had a daughter, Taty- ana. Why that old wretch should viliage for a child was a problem. God was good. She was strong, well, and worked all day in the house while her mother, went about her many affairs. When the young people of the village went off singing in the evening, Taty ana always walked with Kolya Petro- vitch. It was the same on Sundays. when they hunted mushrooms or klukvi berries in the woods. The village felt that Marousha would never permit her daughter to marry. Who would there be to do the house- work, to milk the cow, to clean out the pots Marousha used for her devilish messes? It was not as though she could not afford & dowry, and a spandid one. OUGHBY.” WASHINGTON, D..C. JANUARY .27, RK PEOPLE Common’ report had ‘it that she was wealthy and kept her money buried in @ corner where the souls of childrea stillborn gathered to guard it. Another Summer passed. The harvest was bad, but that was temporarily for- gotten in the arrival of the government. Several young men came from the city and said much about the results of the revolution and how each village would have its own government now. There was some mysterious affair about veting. At the close of the meeting one of the young men from the city declared that he had been elected president of the village Soviet, though no peasant knew just how, and that he would stay and govern them. Not that they cared— meetings to talk about the government would help while away the long Winter. There was bitter criticism when the village found that the government, meaning the young man from the city, had power. There was a peasant coun- cil, the Soviet, and he listened to them |- for a time and then did what he wanted. About raising the tax on the mill, for example. ‘They all opposed, but he did it. Then the millowner raised his price to the peasants. The Soviet immedi~ ately met and voluntarily and with fury raised his taxes again. There was much confusion. ‘The young man from the city also B established a police force, bringing two other young men from the city. No longer could a wife go to the hospital with bruises and get treatment until she had explained how and why her husband had beaten her. Then the po- lice stepped in, there was court, and there were fines. The government took them. The government had power. Marousha, like all the peasants, watched this new thing with suspicion, but after a few weeks she announced that the young man from the city was to marry Tatyana. She had carefully thought it out. He had demanded a tremendous dowry, although he con- ceded that she was very pretty, and they argued several days before reaching an agreement. Tatyana's marriage with him would give Marousha a unique place in the village, worth, cventually, all the dowry cost. But he must wait until Spring—she would then have sufficient money. X R AND what of Kolya Petrovitch? The matter was discussed in every izba | in the village and everywhere aroused | only stern disapproval. “Marousha, old sukinadotch, is wise. She knows we would have run her out of here in six | more months. Now she can call on the | government. And what of Kolya Petro- vitch? They went walking together, they went to church togeiher, they were | as good as engaged. | Tatyana was heartbroken. She re- fused to talk to the young man from | the city and she spent a great deal of | the day crying. The housework suf- fered and the mother fumed: “Un- grateful daughter. I make a match for you_better than any these village pigs | could dream of. Some day you can leave the village and live in the city.” The only answer was, “But I'd rather | live in the village, with Kolya.” And | 1 in middle October. The harvest ha been poor and there was barely enougl: food to last until Spring. Worse, thcre was much sickness; however, with time hanging on their hands,” the peasants | could afford the time to go to the hos- pital. Almost all went. Except for the old women, there seecmed to be a defi- nite boycott against Marousha. In January the weather became frightful. Snow almost every day, and, most unysual, strong winds which closed the roads. The cold was worse than ever and no one left the bed atop | the lofty stove for the outdoors except to get more firewood. And then it Little Volodya Invanov cried all day. At night his forehead was hot and he said his throat hurt. Each hour it was more difficult to breathe. There was nothing to do except to call Marpusha. “You call me now,” said she, when she came, out of breath, “now that it is impossible to get to the hospital. Old Marousha is good enough when you are afrald your child will die. I can cure him. But you must pay me. . . ." “We will pay, only cure our son." . . . and you must pay me with dollari. the Amerikanyetz that jeweled ikon vou stole. There is not much time. Pa me all the dollari you have and I will cure your son, your son Andrei Alexe- vitch—your only son.” Andrei refused. but his wife insisted. He took a hammer and beat on the wall of the stove, A brick loosened and | he pulled it out. From the crevice he took the two American dollars and almost threw them at her. She then prepared a tea with a bun- dle of herbs which she drew from out more tears followed. The Winter began early, with snow | her voluminous skirts. In an hour the child was breathing more easily. I know, I know that you sold | “UNGRATEFUL D! MAKE A MATCH FOR YQU BET. LAGE PIGS COULD ‘The diphtheria spread throughout the village. Wherever there was a little child—and that was practically in every house—there was the same conver- sation, the same anger, the same going 1o some secret place and taking out the | dollari. But not in every house did the child recover. More than half died. ment doctor did come, the epidemic had run its course, and Marousha had most of the Amerikanski dollari which had been left in the village by Mr. Lee. On one point the village opinion was divided. Some held that the diphtheria had come as punishment for that raid long ago, on Count Gryazov's hou: Others said that the devil, who was rousha’s ally, the Black Devil, had sent it to help her raise money for her daughter’s dowry. Everbody wished for suggested murdering her and taking back the money. But her money was guarded, who knew where, by the souls | of stillborn children and many things orse. And, besides, the government! e money really was for the young | man from ‘the city. Many of the villagers went to church, her. * The Winter passed and Spring came. When the roads were once more pass- able, Marousha said she was going to the city to buy some things for her daughter's wedding. On RQer return, but the village was cut off from all| outside help. By-the time the govern- | something to happen to her, and a few | burned candles and said prayers against | AUGHTER! 1 TER THAN ANY OF THESE VIL. DREAM OF." within two weeks, the marriage would take place. At first, during her absence, Tatyana wept unceasingly. Her friends tried to console her. But Kolya Petro- vitch, whom she seldom saw, said ne was going to leave the village and try life in the city, even in far-off Moscow. Two weeks passed and Marousha did not return. April passed into May and | May into June. | Early in Julv Marousha returned. She found that the young man from the city had grown tired and gone to some other village. And Tatyana had mar- ried Kolya, with the greatest wedding party the village had even seen. Old Peter, the best drinker in the village, 1had not moved for 48 hours afterward * * * % ‘ “\"ELL?" T asked Boris who told the | story, “why hadn't she come back sooner?" “Oh, we are a dark people. We do not know very much. Marousha had | been arrested for spending those dollari | and had sat in jail for two months.” “But what was wrong with her sp- | ing those dollars? Really, your Sovet | courts . . . | _ “Here, Amerikanyetz, you can t-1l We do not know. We are dark people. | But here is one of the dollari which | Mr. Lee gave me." | 'Y read—'The Confederate States 6 | America will pay to bearer .. ." THE END. Cowtown Was Part of Suburban Washington in Days of Vigor BY JOHN CLAGGETT PROCTOR. recent days undoubtedly there have been several places in and around Washington called “Cow- town™; but of all the settlements bear- ing this cuphonious title I dare say| there never was within the District but one real place worthy of the name. In 1871 Hell's Bottom was in full| blast. Murder and other crimes here were of frequent occurrence, and the police were kept busy suppressing dis-‘ order of all kinds.. The center of this | disorderly section was about at Elev- enth and R streets northwest, and it was no peat for a timid or weak-kneed | policeman to patrol, for here assembled | for their nightly brawls the toughest residents of the city. | Bloodfield, in South Washington, even in its worst days, was not half as bad as, was Hell's Bottom. The writer's| father had. purchased a residence on Twelfth street not far from Iowa Cir- cle, when in the year mentioned condi- tions became so desperate that he was forced to sacrifice his holdings and seek a residence elsewhere, and from a financial standpoint at least he did not make a good move. Accordingly in November, 1871, our family took up residence in a neat but | unpretentious cottage surrounded - by grounds at the southwest corner of Florida avenue and W street northwest, to the northeast of which, only two blocks away, lay Cowtown. This was during the administration of Gov. Hen- ry. D, Cooke, Washington’s first gover- nor, who served from February 28, 1871, to September 13, 1873, when he was succeeded by Alexander R. Shep- herd, who, mainly as president of the Board of Public Works, did more for Washington in a few years than many of the city heads had done in previous years all put together. _Florida avenue was then and had been for many years before, and even afterward, known as Boundary street. As such 1t separated the City of Wash- ington from the County of Washington. Our home was just within the city limits, where restrictions prevented the keeping of cows, hogs, geese, ctc. But just across the street, where the county commenced, all such animals_ could be kept at the pleasure of the tenants, many of whom had moved there from O Street alley, now Neale place, located between N and O and Fourth and Fifth streets northwest, and from what is now Ridge street, in the block to the south, because of the restrictions | ROM the beginning of the Dis- triot. of Columbia until almost | pleted, was vacant ground, and here the Douglass base ball team used to play. It was composed of the best col- ored men of that section, and as no rowdies were permitted on the nine the games were always conducted in an orderly and interesting way. Washing- ton Braxton, Alexander Smoot, Sam and Clinton Lincoln were among the players. Samuel Lincoln died only re- cently. He was probably the oldest route carrier for The Star and re- ceived honorable mention in its col- umns at the time of his death. Though he was always known as “Lincoln,” this pronunciation was only similar form to his real name. The_triangular block to the east of the colored school and to the north of the eighth police precinct station, on U street, was where the while boys held their base ball games. It was in this Bob Odlum, who killed himself in jump- ingoff -the Brooklyn Bridge, lived with his sisters. ‘Where the Eleventh street car barn now is was then vacant, as was also the triangular block to the east and immediately in front of the Garfield Memorial Hospital, except for a squat- ‘ter’s shanty. Here lived Harry White, an old darky of the “Uncle Tom” type; head whitened with age and shoulders bent with years of work in the service of his masters; friendly and Kkindly, weiting for the greatest of all Masters to _call him home. During my mother's childhood days she had taken dancing lessons at Ca- rusi’s Saloon, which then bore a high reputation and which stood at the northeast corner of Eleventh and C streets northwest. One day she rec- ognized this old colored man as having been the one who played the fiddle for Prof. Carusi’s pupils, and upon tell- ing him that she remembered him he became much delighted, and for the few remaining years of his life there was always a removal of the hat and a {riendly lowering of the head, peculiar to fthe colored servant of that day, whenever he passed our house and saw my mother. - All of the flat ground ex- tending from Florida avenue on the north to perhaps R street on the south refcrred to. Driving through these streets recently disclosed several old houses which might have been occu- pied by some of those who afterward moved farther to the northwest. * R K K and from Sixth or Seventh street on the east to Fifteenth street on the west was then called Goose Level. Cowtown itself was not all built up then, either, and it was not necessary for one to confine himself to the side- walk—if there happened to be one. Ifi 1871" Cowtown and the adjacent|in most cases the paths were just as territory was indeed suburban Wash- | good and in many cases better, and of ington. folks moved, I recall at that date but three other houses, one on Tenth street between V and W streets, occupied by John W. Rightstine; one on V street Detween Vermont avenue and Tenth street, occupied by a colored man named William H. Wilson, who kept an eating stand in the Northern Liberty Market and later conducted a lunch table in the Treasury Building for the clerks. He was an unusually good cook and sold many of the things he baked at his V street store, where he also re- sided. I well remember the wonderful mincemeat and pumpkin pies he baked for my mother on New Year day and ~uuistmas. “I'he_other house stood at the north- west corner. of “ermont avenue and V . street, and here lived & colored woman named Copeland, with her son, How- “ard. During-a heavy stornt a few years _Jater the upper part of this house was ‘blown about 200, feet to the far side of | geese Florida avenue,-and the building was never replaced. A gasoline station now occupies the spot.- - The three other _ homes referred to afe still standing. * The block between U and V and Ver- mont_avenue and Tenth street. where & hapdsome new school building for colored children -has just been In block -338, into which my course, decidedly more direct. - Indeed, as a lad, when I attended school for a while at Fourteenth and Q streets, I went by the way of paths the entire distance, crossing one common after another, and when I attended the Pres- cott School, over toward Howard Uni- versity, with Albert S. Gatley, now of the Lincoln National Bank, and a number of other old-timers, we never thought of cutting square corners, but simply went as the crow flies. * ok K ok BUT about Cowtown; this was not a large place at all, being of rather limited area, only extending from Seventh Street road, now dignified with the namé avenue, westward ‘to Sherman’ avenue, and from Grant ave- nue—now Barry place—northward for several blocks. Here everybody had one igs and , and chine have arrived at the correct number. There were many horses, too, in this community, for where a few peddled their milk by hand, the vast majority, with very large routes, were compelled to rely upon teams, - block, on the Florida avenue side, that | AN EARLY PRINT OF GARFIELD MEMORIAL HOSPITAL. People who lived in Cowtown were as law-abiding as any citizens. They knew how physically to protect their own interests, and never hesitated to do so. In this connection, it was al- ways an interesting day—and that day was a frequent one—when Poundmaster Sam Einstein swooped down on the ani- mals running at large here. They then forgot their loyalty to Government and just blew the lid right off. Up until 1871, when the territorial form of government went into effect, the Levy Court looked after the welfare of the County of Washington, which in- cluded Cowtown, cnd until that time animals were permitted to run at large —under certain restrictions, of course. After Gov. Cooke came into office, how- ever, things took on a different turn, and animals were not permitted to run | at large anywhere within the District. This idea of justice did not strike the residents just over the border line as being right or fair, and cvery me Einstein put in an appearance he had to fight every inch of the way through the place. He rarely came alone, but usually stopped by the old station- house on Georgla avenue, a little north of the base ball park, on the opposite side of the street, where he secured one or two mounted policemen for pro- tection. In this way he usually carried off a wagonload of animals which their owners or some of their neighbors were unable to prevent being captured. It was not unusual for the pound- master to have his head cut by a fly- ing brick or bottle, nor was it out of the ordinary il a few arreste were made for resisting the majesty of the law. At this period Washington itself was not overly blessed with good streets and the county was considerably worse off. Before Sherman avenue was brought to its present grade it was rather a steep hill, as one can, see by the cut made alongside the . hospital . property. - This avenue then began at Barry place and did not run through to Florida avenue as it does now. In wet weather it was very muddy and teams had much diffi- culty in. negotiating the grade. Upon one cccasion I recall seeing a wagon, with a load of hay, stuck to the hubs at the bottom of this hill. It was inténded for some one living near the top of the hill, perhaps Owen Shugrue, who had a num- d conducted an exten- sive dairy bus: S. When the wagon was stuck there were but two horses hitched fo it, but gradually sympathizing bystanders added to this number from their own stables until six or eight were strung out in a line, alternately jerking and tugging away—working as some people do, without any concerted action or co-operation. Seeing the mess his neighbors were making of the predicament, John R. Alcorn, who kept a grocery store at the southeast corner of Barry place and Florida avenue, went to his stable and brought out two fine white mules, which he said would pull the load up the hill. The horses were all removed from the wagon and the two mules substituted and when Alcorn said “get up,” they bent forward with their bodies almost touching the ground and as the load be- gan to move, they straightened up and carried the load up the hill on a run. It was indeed a most beautiful sight. Being steep, this hill made wonderful 1 coasting when there was snow on the ground, although it required much skill i to swing the xled into Barey place. tince houses then Xned the souwh sids of this thoroughfare, where the avenue now continues on to the city. In addition to the mule eplsode, another- thing I saw here which I shall never forget was a colored boy in his bare feet, participating in the sport of coasting down this hill. A few years later he was shot and killed, for which , his assailant was afterward acquitted ; in court. | LR | JFIFTY years ago Ninth street was not l cut through above Barry place and Eighth street. was called Wright street. Down this street, or perhaps g:nueunq it in places, ran Reedy anch, along which a number of slaughterhouses were located. This stream had its source somewhere to the north and flowed down the east side of Sherman avenue in a narrow deep cut it had made. At about Euclid street it turned almost abruptly into Eighth street, passing close to the National Home for Destitute Colored Women and Children, which institution I remem- :rr as being here from my earliest ays. One of the sights one will never for-l get is the great droves of hogs, sheep and cattle which were driven through the streets of Washington to these slaughtcrhouses, sometimes even spread- ing out beyond the curb line cnto the sidewalks. Legislation finally cured this evil and everybody was better off and happier thereby. One of the sights, however, which many will recall while these slaughterhouses were in operation was the large number of ox tails com- monly seen thrown over the shoulders of the colored men who helped to do the killing. No doubt they were given them as part of their pay; but nmow they are sold for making ox-tail soup, considered by many as a delicacy. Another sight we used to see around Cowtown in the early days was the cutting of ice by the butchers for their icehouses. I especially recall the large quantities gathered by Henry ‘Ruppert, who had two meat stands, one in the Center Market and another in the Northern Liberty Market. His slaughter house and residence occupied the north- OLD COWTOWN HOMES, Once Free From City Restrictions It Was Notable for Fact That Everybody Had Cows, and Pigs and Geese Were Numerous. : Garfield Hospital and Its Development. east corner of Barry place and Sher- man avenue, and extended to the top of the hill. Well do I remember his ferocious-looking bloodhounds; no one | ever attempted to molest Mr. Ruppert Rock Creek, Soldiers’ Home lake, and ponds, and nearby streams supplied for this neighborhood the necessary ice years before the manufacturing plants became popular. At one time I believe I knew most everybody living in Cowtown, who, with the exception of a family or two still living on the Georgia avenue side of the place, have all moved away, and nearly all the houses are now owned by or rented to colored people. But it has undergone little change, and many of the original houses are stand- ing today as they were more than half a century ago, and we can almost see standing in their doorways Mrs. Keefe, Mrs. Shugrue, Mrs, Lynch, Mrs. Dunn and the ancestors of some of Wash- ington’s most prominent business men. il i O FORGIA AVENUE. THE S| Indeed. I know of one man who died here not long ago. and who was born in this section, who left more than a million dollars, and, what was better still. a host of good' and loyal friends. I went to both private and public school with some of the boys and girls of this place, and I always found them to be the best of friends. Many are |now filling the most prominent posi- tions in the city and are regarded— and justly so. too—as of the first families of Washington. * k% x ARFIELD Memorial Hospital, which occuples the tract to the west of | Cowtown, also brings back fond recol- lections to the writer, for many times he has romped over its fields with Ferd Schneider, the youngest son of Louis H. Schneider, who kept the hardware tore at 1010 and 1012 Pennsylvania avenue for so many years. and who inade some of the earliest parts for the Morse telegraph. Mr. Schneider's cardener, whom he also used as his conchman, was William L. Courtney. When we first moved into the neigh- borhood Mr. Courtney lived in a little brick house in ‘the extreme southeast- ern corner of the hospital ground: Mr. Schneider had this house removed. | and built another house for his gar- dener at the extreme north end of | the grounds, facing Sherman avenue. | It Is still standing, and is a small two- | story frame. Adjoining L. H. Schneider’s property | lived his brother, Christian G. Schnei- | der, and his family. at first in a large | frame cottage, which later gave way { to a more substantial one of brick. In | this family there were four boys and | two girls, namely: Louis H., Julius M., | Carrie A.. Ella, George A. and Walter | E. I believe all of these are living except the first two. Christian G. Schneider for many vears carried on |a bell-hanging business on F street. | being later succeeded by three of his | sons. | 'Louis H. Schneider, who was the first ito sell his property for hospital pur- poses, had several daughters and two sons: Harry, who was in business with | his father for many years, and Ferd, | whom I went to school with. I knew | nim quite well. Of the girls I knew ihme. One married Dr. A. C. Adams, and just what became of the others e ECTION 13 Y | probably I have heard but have forgote | ten. * K kX “SHORT‘LY after the death of P %7 dent Garfield it was decided t} hospital should be erected here as a | memorial to that most lovable and k jee and among those closely identified with the movement were Henry A. ‘Willard, Justice Samuel F. Miller, Regi~ nald Fendall, Associate Justice John {M. Harlan and J. Ormond Wilson Among the special committee appointeri to sclect the site were Mr. Willard and Justice Miller, and of the two sites pro- posed—the Columbian College ground on Fourteenth street and the Schneider tract—the Schneider property was de- cided upon and purchased An old list of the board of directors of this institution includes the follow- ing well known local names: Justice | Samuel F. Miller, president: Henry A. | Willard, first vice president; John A. Baker. socond vice president: A. Walton | Flemt secretary: Dr. John S. Billings | U. S. A.; Mrs. Eliza N. Blair, Reginald | Fendal, Mrs. Carrie S. Harrison. Mrs. Jean Margaret Lander. Rev. W. A. Leonard. D. D.; B. G. Lovejoy. Joseph | K. McCammon, Mrs. Fannv Ricketts E. Francis Riges and John W. Thomp- son. . ‘The officers of the Ladies' Aid Asso- Tefation. who erially assisted in lay- ing the foundation which has placed | the hospital today where it is. were all | women ‘of high standing and capable ‘nf good work. They were: Mrs. John |A. Logan, Mrs. Benjamin Harrison. Mrs. James B. Ricketts, Mrs. Earl Eng- M Gardiner G. Hubbard, Mrs. | Henry A. Willard, Mrs. Henry W. Blair, Mrs. J. Russell Selfridge and Mrs, homas L. Tullock. Some time after securing the L. H Schneider holdings the hespital direc- | tors saw that more ground was |and so the property to the | tending to Eleventh street—owned by | the Christian Schneider heirs, was pur- | chased. | The original Schneider mansion was |added to from time to time. and in | 1912 the Heary A. Willard Memorial | Building was dedicated. It is'a worthy | monument to a worthy man, who loved | his adopted city and all there was in it—but most of al! foved humanity. It is the writer's impression that the | Schneider home forms a part of the { Garfield Hospital as it stands today. | surrounded by the other buildings | added from year to year as additional room was needed. If so, it is an old building. having been occupied before |it was sold to Mr. Schneider by Dr. James C. Hall, who, as far back as 1843. at least, had his medical office on the north side of Pennsylvania Avenue he- tween Ninth and Tenth streets north- west, and who most likely erected the Schneider house as his home. 1 Able Stutterers. ANY educators have helc that stuttering is an evidence of psychopathic traits i the mental makeup, and that the child who stut- ters is handicapped in his educational progress. But according to recent tests made by Dr. Elizabeth D. McDowell of Columbia University, the fault of | stuttering in a pupil carries with it no i lessening of ability. Dr. McDowe?l experimented with 1 7.138 school children, making tests to indicate the comparative standing in | intelligence of stutterers and non-stut- | terers, school achievement, emotiona: i adjustment, physical fithess, and va- | rious speech defects. She found that the stuttering pupil has as high intellectual capacities as : the normal child, that his vocabulary is just as good, and that physically he is better off. It was even found that | & stuttering child could rattle off as i many words in a three-minute period j as any one else. {" The isolated province of Chiriqui is bfl be ('(mn!tct'.‘d v;‘llth the outside world y & new steamshlp service connectin; 158 with Panama City. 3 .