Omaha Daily Bee Newspaper, November 23, 1900, Page 9

@ecscocoseressssccssccscss@@oocccccsccccssccsssesccce A SENTENCE DAY. By JOSIAI FLYNT AND FRANCIS WALTON, L A I B i s Some had waited a year, others for severai mouths, others for but a fow wee The Jail was old, and inside and outside looked much as it did in 1840, when it was built. Tramps liked it on account of the corridor where they were permitted lounge in the daytime, and because the prizoners cooked thelr own food. The raw the meals wero passed into the jail through a little window iron and the men took turns in cooking. The cells were placed above the corridor, and at night the shorift came and locked us in till morning. We numbered nincteen men and boys six- teen of whom were court prisoners, had stood thelr trials and walting for their sentences. The remaining three, including Ruderick McKlowd and myself, bad punishment meted out to them by the wisdom of a local magistrate and were serving it out then and there. Ruderick and 1 had besa unfortunate enough to fall asleep in a box car in the local railway yards, and the magistrate befors whom we were brought had been inspired to make an example of us. ‘I want you men to learn to sleep where clivilized people sleep,” he explained; “it 18 possible that you need a little training to get into the habit again, and I shall wond you over to the sheriff for a month. 1t you behave yourselves you will find him an agreeablo host.”” We behaved oursclves and found the sheriff an agreeable host, but he took the most interest in what he called the “transients,” the men whom justice had weighed In her balance and found want- f0g—to a degree which she had not taken oft hor bandage accurately to ascertain. They presented & subject of speculation and mystery {n which we did not, and in re- turn for the intercst they gave him, he offered them gruff little courtesies which we hoped would help somewhat to keep their minds off their comiug ordeal. Some of them were culprits of loug standing, men who had taken “stretchers,” as they called thelr terms in prison, regularly and with- out flinching, but noue of them knew what their next stretcher was to be. Some of them were lads sure to go to the reform school; and all of them, men and lads, were to retire from the world for a certain period—but how long? The limit that each of them could get was well known, but no ono belleved “that he deserved or would get the lmit. Prisoners the world over feel that the fact that they have been caught at all 18 o punishment and justifies them in ex- pecting a compromise with the judge who 1s to sentence them. If detection itself 1s & punishment, any further discipline ought 1o be measured according to the disappoint- ment and chagrin which the detection has caused. This is Irrational, but all men are irrational according to thelr eppor- tunities. It was the uncertainty as to how far justice in the person of “the old man" would be willing to compromise on this basls that kept the mon on a strain. Morn- ing, noon and night the constant word was, what will “the old man do?’ The first thing we heard, even’before the sherift let us out for the day, was the call from cell to cell of the men to be sentenced that they were twelve hours mearer the ap- pointed time. Even during the night mut- terings reached Ruderick and me from men who had been walting longest. One night we heard an old man 70, who mlxpcvh‘; been the graddfuther of nmearly wif of cry out in his sleep: “Make it & year, judge, just an even yecar,” and he threw into the words pleading afd pathos = that he could not have commanded had he been awake. At last the morning came when justice was to take off the bandage and tho sheriff told his wards that they must hold themselves ready to go to the court room at any moment. He was not sure himself of the exact time when his honor would call for them, but he cautioned them to be quick in responding to the call when it came. Every one rushed to his cell to get his clothes in order. “Want the old man to see me in my best,”” one said, and the others followed him up to the cell gal- lery and began to overhaul their scant supply of “togs.” They discuused the mer- its of a patched waistcoat or a frayed necktle as women do the most delicate finery. “How do you think th’ old man'll like this?" a man called “Bony” sald, Bolding up a coat. “Get it sterllized, Bony, it's full o gra backs; th' old man'll glve yo de limit if they get to parading around the court room,” another remarked untruthfully. “How do you'se think this white rag *Il take?' queried still mnother, dubbed “Jet Eyes,” exhibiting a “bolled” shirt which he had kept under his pillow for four wecks for fear it would be “swiped.” “Keep It to swing in, Sammy,” advised his cellmate. “It's too good jus' to get two years in. Put it in a safety vault till croakiu’ time comes. In an hour they had all put on best and @ dress rehearsal in the ridor was in order. Oue of the prisoncrs was appointed judge and the men lined up in front of him. This was play and In a measure comedy, but not wholly 80; the culprits expected to catch from the mock judge and the mock sen- wnce some omen of what their fate wéuld we. The judge carried of his part with ampressive dignity and severe eyebrow; he had borrowed a clean collar and & sky- blue necktle for the occasion. He had absolutely refused to officiate except in costume. The men practiced attitudes and gestures which they expected to use with effect later in the day. “Hungry,” he sald in a volee which was proper to the majesty of the law, to the wan at the head of the line, “you was vuught fn de act, wasn't you? Now, that aweans bupglin’. Blokes what knows their business don't get pinched in the act. But yuu'se gettin' old, Hungry. We all knows that. You must be nearly 60. De law says that for what you dowe I ought to give you fitteen years, but I don't blieve you'll last that long. You'se got 5o many diseases you'se goin' to croak before a great while Now, it aln't right to give a man life for bunglin', an’ that's what it 'ud be {f 1 gave you what de law says. I'm goin' to be square with you; I'm goin' to give you a chance to dle outside. You'se good for about two years yet, 'f you take care o' yourself, so 1 sentence you, Hungry, to elghteen months in de penitentiary,” “Thank y', yer honor," said Hungry, bow- ing awkwardly. A faint murmur of approval and applause arose iu the audience. “Silence {n de cort,” cried Rhadamanthus with truculent majesty; “brivg up the next prisoner.” Ho was a boy of 18, called “Eddle,” who Bad been convicted, in company of an older companion of burglary. “Kid," the wock judge went on, “‘you'se started out too fast. You'se too young to do eltmbin’. 1t I sent you to de penitentiary you'd learn a good deal, but you'd get your head turned talkin' with de men, an’ you'd tackle too big jobs for your years an' ex- perlence when you got outside again. If you'se goln’ to be an A No. 1 gun, Kid, you wan' to g0 tru your apprenticeship, you wan' to begin at the bogiuniu', an' a good place to do that 18 in do ref—all fly crooks has been trained in de ref—so I scutence you 1o de ret thl you're 21. But I'll be square with you, too. I won't consider i\ ‘any re- (Jfeksbun om my connection with de case,' as nearly roomy to in an door, who were thelr cor- oldest materials for | | 8chiool sentence, {day the sheriff took him mway. de 0ld man ‘ud say, if you run away 'fore your time's np." “Don’ send me to the ref, yer honor; 1 bin to the ref an’ its nothin’ but a kidg' folnt; I can’t learn nothin’ there.” He went through the lines of men and boys; sometimes the sceme being comieal, 4 sometimes pathetic. The rehearsal finished, the broke up into 1t £roups. Some of them guthered around the table, others took their stand near the iron door, impatient for the sherift to call them. Ruderick and I took seats on a bench in one of the corners and the boy “Eddie” and his pal strolied up and down the corridor. His pal urged him to take advantage of his boyish appearance and try to get a reform “You may run away elther after you'se heen there a while,” the man said, “an’ then you'se free—see?"’ “Damn the rer,” the lad replied. goin' to the pen.” . crowd “I'm . . . . . . . “Know that kind of kid?"" Kuderick asked, nodding in the direction of the two when they had pussed out of earshot. “I can read his future for you. Did I ever tell you ‘bout the Michigan Kid? It began way back fn 77, when 1 was doin’ a bit for the state, Lavin' done an' bungled a bit for myself. The jail was over in Pennsyl- vania, an’ one day the sheriff brought in & young fellow who'd been bound over for bitin' oft more than he could chew, which 18 grand larceny. They caught him red- handed. He was a nice plucky-lookin' little chap, an’ 1 saw right away 't he was new to the business. He didn’t have much of a story to tell at the time; p'haps that was why he wouldn't tell it. I found out later, however, that his father was a swell lawyer over in Michigan, an’ his people had sent him to & boarding echool, an’ he'd mooched. His money gave out, an' he done the touch or tried to do it to get some dough. He was not quite 17 then—a tenderfoot as far as you could see him. He'd been with the hoboes a little before he got pinched, an’ know some of their lingo, but jus' the way ho shaped up an’ asked us all when he first come In what we was ‘shut up' for, was enough to put us next. “Well, 1 liked him just cause ho was a tenderfoot. Wise kids is Interestin’ an’ all that, but you don't always like wise blokes. It takes all kinds o’ people to make the crooks' world, same as to make the £ood people’s world, an’ there’s been ten- derfeet 't I've lked better'n anybody else, I forgot what the kid told me his name was— prob'ly didn't remember to give the right one, anyhow—but I jus’ called 'im the kid. I call him that still, but 1 guess I'm the only ono that does it. He's a pretty big stiff today, an’ everybody can't slap 'im on the back. I sort o' brought 'im up, you know, an’ he aln't one o' them that for- gots things—except his name. “Course I'm proud 't he's turned out a fly bloke. but things was different when I first got to ehewin' the rag with him ‘n that jall. I tried to persuade him to 5o home. I told him to write his gov'rnor an’ get the thing fixed up. I can't tell you exactly why I done it, but it's God's truth that even now—I aln't no chicken, paseed my 48th birthday last month—yes, sir, even now I hate to see a kid who's been brought up decent hit the road. With me ‘twas different. Both my old folks was crooks an’ I pever had a home, anyhow. Stealin’ came natural to me and Chicago, where I was bern, made me wise, Jf a man's got a‘bent-for swipin', Chicago' tell him how to get his graft lo. You know that as well as I do. New York aln't no saint, neither —some migbty good thieves have come out o that town—tut i a kid is lookin' for & place to get dead wise, let him raflroad for dear old Chi. I like the place, God knows, but it's crooked—crooked as a fish hook. “Well, thls kid 't tellin’ you about, he listened to me all right, but he wouldn't write to his gov'nor. He was stuck on himself—seo? an' right, too. ‘I wouldn't have the gov'nor find me here,' he says, ‘it T had to take ten years in the pen.’ Well, T didn’t know anythin' better'n to tell him to ask the judge to send him to the ret. 1 know what the ref is as well as the next bloke. I know that:it's where a lot ' kids get wise. Old Fraxy, when he was makin' belleve sentence Eddie a few minutes ago, he told the truth. The ret's the place where a thief goes through his ‘preticeship. Jus' the same, I'd rather ses a kid o' mine take his chances in the ref than in the pen an' 1 gave it to that kid straight. I told him what he'd flud at the ref an' what he wanted to steer clear of an’ then 1 explained to him how he could get 8 mooch on an' give the shop the slip. He was a very nervy kid an’ there's mighty fow refs 't a mervy kid need stop in if he's got a haukerin' for the open. W'y, they had me in a ref when I was 12 years old an’ I dldn’t stay there a week. They got me back after awhile, but I mooched again an’ they're lookin’ for me yet “Well, the judge he gave the kid what I told him to ask for. I'd explained to the kid how he wanted to put his plea when the judge asked him if he had anything to say why the court shouldn't promounce sentence on him an' he got off his song and dance all right. I can hear the kid now when he came back to jail. He came up to me an’ sald, ‘Ruderick, if I can beat that school I'm going home to the gov'nor, You've done me a good turn, do you know it? Course I jollied him along a litle an' told him not to get too Sunday schooly all of a sudden when he got home, an’ the next An' for the next three years Ruderick McKlowd used to pat himself on the back ev'ry now an’ then when he thought o' the kid. 1 pletured him ut home, you know, livin' with his gov'nor, goin' to school, fallin’ in love with nice girls an' gettin’ o be one o' the town's promisin’ young men. I had to do a DIt in the pen about eighteen months after the kid was sent to the ref. an’ whenever I'd get real down In the mouth like, about the latter end o' things an’ what's what, T used to say to myself, ‘Well, Ruderick, you did that kid a good turn, anyway, an' I'd brace up. I remem. ber once wakin' up in the middle o' the night out of a dream. I'd been up In heaven an' Peter he wouldn't let me pass the gates. ‘You're a bad lot, Ruderick,' he says; ‘I couldn't let you pass the gates.* he says; ‘I couldn’t let you pass 't you was me own son..' I remember 't I said to him as well as If I'd sald the words out loud, ‘Peter,’ 1 says, ‘aln’t you forgetin' that g0od mark 't I got for bein' square with that kid? an' then I woke up. I'm just tellin' you this, you know, $0's you can understand how things was." There was a pause in Ruderick's narra- tive and the bolts of the irom door of a place quite other than heaven were shot back to remind us how far from heaven we were. Every oue thought that the judge had sent for the men to be sen- tenced, but it was a false alarm. The turukey had a letter to deliver to one of the court prisoners and we separated fnto groups again; Ruderick knotted the broken thread of his reminiscences Are you lstening?"' ho safd. Sure,”" 1 repllod; a man cooped Interested in everything. he'd go off his head. Ho continued *‘About three years after meetin' Kid T got settled in the pen across the river from this town where we are now. The same judge had hold o' me once be- fore, an' he was horstile up 18 It he wasn't | them. | sheritt at the | THE OMAHA DA it. The after 1'd had 1o thoy five years; 1 place began been there abolit a year, an double up, an' who do you gave me for a cell companion? That kfa! There he was with his hair cropped an' the stripes on 'im; I knew him the minute they shoved him into the cell. ‘'Kid,' I says, ‘this ain't reg'lar; how'd this happen? Did tue gov'nor up rough?' I'd earned crowded Buess to get we suppose cut ‘Ruderick,’ he says, ‘I never went back to the gov'nor. I done as you told me an' mooched from the ref—mooched the second week, But they got me again, A farmer 't [ went to for breakfast in the mornin’ after, he sent for the copper ot the ref, an' they took me back The super gave me a lickin' for fair, un’ told me 't 1 give him the slip again he'd stick me in the dungeon. Well, I seen kids bigger'n me come out o' the dungeon; [ ain't a baby, but I couldn’t stand for it; I ain't got to Me about it. 1 stayed there a year an’ got to bc one o the boss kids o' the shop. An' hu know what that means. Ruderick,’ ho says, ‘the kids that ain't bosses look up to you an' think you're @ dend fly bloke. They keep crackin’ YOu up as a perfessional, an' after a while you begin to think yourself that you're hot stuff. That's the way it went with mo anyhow, and at the end of the yoar I didn’t think any more ‘bout goin' back to the gov'nor. I made up my mind 't I would be hot stuff an’ a perfessional, an' one night another boss kid an' me, we Jumped out one o' the windows an' got away. He knew of a place where there was simoleohs lyin' loose an’ we went an’ got 'em, an' I been hittin' it up that way ever since. He's in here, too. Wo got pinched for goin' on the dip an’ the judge gave us both three years. I thought ihey'd Put us togetler, but they didn't. He's in the cigar factory, an' I'm over in the foun- dry. Gosh, 1t's hard work in that foundry, Roderick. The guard’s got it in for me He does me every time he gets a chance, I've been in the dungeon twice already.” “Well, I don't need to tell you how I felt—that kid't 1'd been bankin' on! 1 suppose I ought to ‘s’ braced him up again an' talked to the warden ahout him, an’ got his gov'nor on his track, but a fol- low like me ain't good for two stabs at reforming,’ an’ 1 done Just the opposite; & man's skill aches {n him till he gits it out, jus’ like the right words for a thing, an’ 1 trained him (o be a perfessional. 1 dldn't do 1t right away. For near six months' 1 kept swezin' my bralns to figure out what I ought to do, but it's a tempta- tion to a fellow like me to have a chance to make & good thief out of n smart kid. I don’t know if you've ever been in tho samo fix yourself, but to me sometimes tho temptation is great to hand on what you know's worse'n whisky. You see I've al- ways been a crook, an’ I can't help figurin’ out what I can make of a nervy kid if I can get my blinkers on him. Course after what I'd told him three years before in the jail about goin' back to his gov'nor an’ bracin’ up, it seemed eatin' my words to give him the steer I did, but I was square with him. One night 1 told him what I would wouldn't do, just as he wanted. Kid,' I says to him, I can put you next, it you like, an’ make you a first-class grafter, but you want to make up your mind for keeps whether you want to be one or not. You can't play with the busi- nees. You got to forget all about the gu nor. Ouce a grafter, you got to stick to it if your goin’ to succeed.’ “ ‘Ruderick, my gov'nor ‘Il never sec me again. I'm a thief, an' he'll feel better thinkin® I've croaked.” “He meant fit, an' for the next twelve months—he cclled with me a year—I done my best to make him a wiseone. I don't know if you ever trained a kid or not, but let me tell you that there afn't anythin® nicer in this world than fashionin' a youngster with brains. It's jus' like trainin’ a kid ©' your own. You watching him gettin' next, day after day, an' you keep sayin' to yourself, ‘I'm doln' this. They got to give me credit for him.' It's discouraging s the devil when the kid ain’t smart, but that kid 't T had was smart as they make ‘em. He'd catch on to what T was describin’ to him ‘fore 1I'd even finished what I was ayln’ ‘I see, I see,’ he'd say, an’ I could &0 on to something else, ‘What surprised 'lm most was the priy- ‘leges a bloke can get In the pen 1f he knows how. I had 'Im out o the foundry an’ in the feather pickin' department—the softest snap In the place—a week after I took hold of bim. There was a detective 't had the run o' the place, an' he an’ the warden grafted together. The fly cop 'ud find out which prisoners could raise the stuff to make it fn- terestin’ for him to go to the warden an’ ask favors for 'em, an’' then he and the warden ‘ud divvy. 1 knew the fly cop from way back, an' I worked him without money, He knew 't I was pretty wise, an’ he came to me one day an’ give me straight steer. Says he, ‘McKlowd, it you'll put me next to any- thin’ that you know 's goin' on outside, I'll stand for somethin' soft here In the pen.' He knew 't I knew the blokes outside an’ was likely' to be able to tell him what they was doln’, an' he wanted to get wise off me. 1 pretended to take the tip, an’ he began showin' me favors. I ain’t done such tall lyin’ in a tonner as I did to that copper, but he never got on to me. I'd gay to him ‘There’s goin' to be a safe blown open out in Chicago next month, an' you want to get uext.’ He'd thank me an’ tell the warden to do somethin' for me 't I wanted, and then &0 gallivantin’ all over the shop. Course the safe was never blown, but all T had to say was that the crooks had probably got seared off, an’ he took it all in, “I even think that T could 'a got the kid out o' the pen through that copper. I might 'a had to put up a little cash to grease things, but the fellow had an alfired big pull. He knew 'bout the warden beln' croohed, an’ the warden knew 'bout him, an' both had to square each other. See? But T didn't try to spring the kid; jus' kept on trainin’ him. You know what he Is today. We old uns call him the Michigan Kid, but the cop- pers all know him as ‘the fly Detroit crook.’ He ain't been in prison in the last ten years, an' yet he's doin' stunts right along. He's got & block o' houses out In ‘Frisco, an’ owns a big gamblin’ joint in Chi—an' guess he grafts $10,000 every year besides. He's so slick they can't touch him. He shows up In Detroit every now and then, an’ they lock him up as & suspicious charac- ter it it's circus day or there's some big conventlon on, but they have to let him go in a few days. There's blokes that call him a freak; they say 't he had luck. That's rot. It all the crooks in the country had that kid's brains they'd bo just as successful I tell you brains count for as much In this business as they do in bankin'. If you aln’t EOL 'em you can't be Al. “I saw the kid 'bout a year ago an' he said 't his gov'ner still had a reward for any one 't 'ud give him news of his son, He asked me if I thought he ought to write to the old man. I told 'm no."” ‘I bate to make the gov'mor feel bad,’ he says *‘That may be, kid, I says, ‘but you ought to 'a thought that out years back. It's too late, now.' He agreed with me.” Once again the bolts of the door not of heaven were shot back and this time there was no letter to be delivered “All ready, boys," the eherlft “his honor's waiting on you." The men and the boys were handcufted together in couples. ‘Good luck, fellows called; we cried after And in solemn procession, the head, they went tate. Some of them are still “doing time,” others are again walting for sen- tence day and a few have passed into the final court, from which there is no appeal with the ‘Illd whlc‘h they dreaded least of all, to their | ILY BEE: FRIDAY, NEW BOOKS AND MAGAZINES Long List of Recent Fiction by Writers of Reputation, WHAT AUTHORS OFFER FOR CHRISTMAS Near Approach of Hollday Drings to Hand a Flood of New Volumes, Covering Every De- partment of Literature, Season Heury James' delighttul work, “A Little Tour in France,” first issued sixteen years ago, has been {llustrated by Joseph Pennell and s now brought out as a holiday book Henry James made a tour of the cathedral towns of France and the waces with re- mains of Roman architecture. He tells us fn a short introduction that the purpose was to illustrate his sketches, but it fell out that his word pictures were printed without the aid of the artist. Now the most accom- plished of etchers devotes himself to this task of lllustration. No one can give the lace-like tracery of the windows or arches of a Gothic cathedral like Pennell, nor can any one equal him in setting before the reader the salient features of a place in clear line drawing. The pictures in this volume are mostly from wash drawings, and, though evidently done with great rap- idity, they are beautifully clear and dis- tinct and the perspective s true. Tours, Blols, Chambord, Azay le Rideau, Langeals, Bourges, Angers, La Rochelle, Poitlers, Angouleme, Toulouse, Carcassonne, Nimes, Tarascon, Arles, Avignon, Vaucluse—these are some of the places which Pennell makes real for us by the cunning of his hand. Houghton, Mifiin & Co., New York. “Sous of the Morning” is the first novel that Eden Phillpotts has written since the publication of that most virile work, “Chil- dren of the Mist.” The admirers of that playful novel have been looking forward with no little interest to the appearance of the new book which is now at hand. It 1s a long story, nearly 500 pages, which means that it must have merit, or for the major part of the readers it would be a severe task to get through with it all The quality of the author is, however, so remarkable that, though the interost may flag ut times, nevertheless curiosity com- pels you to read the book all through. No more complex situations were ever im- agined than to make a woman in love with two suitors «t ome and the same time. Then Honor marries one of her lovers. The first husband dies and in time she tukes the other man. Through this romance, the locality of which is in Devon, Eden Phillpotts has run a rural episode In*this portion of the story the strange ways of the farm laborers are shown and with exceeding cleverness. Thelr super- stitions and their curious dlalect are intro- duced. The description of the scenery of the moors and the heath ere wonderfully presented. 1f anything there s an over- exuberance. There is material suficient In the “Sons of the Morning” for several romances. It is a volume not to be passed over without the consclousness of its singu- lar merits. G. P. Putnam's Sons, New York, Price, $1.5 Those familiar with Marian Harland's writings will welcome a new novel, “Dr. Dale,”” written in her best style, aided by her stepson, Albert P. Terbune. The story is iutensely interesting afd vividly real- istic. The cene is laid in the oil lands of western Pernsylvania, a district very sel- dom appropriated by American novelists. The date is in the earlidy period of the boom in real estate following the sinking of the first petroleum wells, vielding thou- sands of barrels per day. Like all stories of boom times, thére is plenty of excite- ment and action and the interest never flags for a moment from the beginning to the end of the book. The characters are all people of a philanthropic bent, beloved by the whole community and doing a noble work among the ignorant hard-working ofl men. Ono cannot but adwire all of the characters, but one’s sympathy especially goes forth to Dr. Dale, the character who furnishes the name to the book, and whose career ends in & most pathetic manner. Dodd, Mead & Co., New York. Price, $1.50. “The Brass Bottle,” the new romance by . Anstey, the brilllant author of “Vice Versa and “The Tinted Venus,” shows the author in his happlest vein. The story is an imaginative romance full of quaint con- ceits and deliciously extravagant situations His new book is the most important as re- gards length, quality and sustained interest which he has given us for some time. The scene opens in London with the introduc tion of a scruggling architect, to whom there comes an extraordinary experience which furnishes a fair field for the fancy and humor of the writer. There can be no doubt regarding the popularity of Mr. An- stey's new novel. The many admirers of the brilliaat author cannot fail to appre- ciate this latest evidenco of his genius. D, Appleton & Co., New York. Price, $1.50. Max Pemberton’s brilliant pen has shown that “'the true romancer” lives today. Mr. Pemberton chooses the present and not the historical past, and he proves that the life of today may suggest romance, mys- tery, incident and adventure in as fascl- nating forms as the life of the days of latce and armor. His new novel deals with Russian social and poiltical intrigue, a fleld wherein he is fully at home. charming love story which is carrled through a stirring series of adventures to a fortunate end. Mr. Pemberton’s romance, which fs full of life and vivid in its un- flagging interest, shows perhaps the high- est mark which he has reached In his successful career as a romancer. Its title 15 “The Footsteps of a Throne.” D, Apple- ton & Co., New York. Price, $1.50. “The Lady of Dreams,” by Una L. Sil- berrad, 18 a novel of life in the poorer quarter of London, by a newcomer in the fleld of fietion, who bids fair to rank with the foremost women writers of England. It traces the development of a young girl who has never known any existence ex- cept the dreary round of caring for a dis- sipated uncle, and who has become a strangely elusive and dreamlike, though charming, personality under the stress of this inherited duty, so patently fulfilled; he presently attempts to kill her in a fit of delirium, and the love which then comes into her married life forms the basis of the story. Doubleday, Page & Co, New York. Price, $1.50. Mr. Elmore Peak's novel, “The Darling- tons,” has an abundance of incidents and ideas, and when the first book of a new writer shows an abundance of any one of these it is justly accounted no ordinary 2 We are headquarters for Books, It you wish the lat fice tevices, this is the pla w dle stamplug snd wish wedding invitations, you nething to look. » NOVEMBER 23, 1900, There is a | t popular nevel or the newest thing in labor-saving of- to look for it. e showing the latest styles fa fine papers, copper plate work and pecially o call your attentien to the ne MEGEATH STATIONERY CO, ' first book It is a thoroughly American story. Its scenes and general movement are those of a typical American town, or small city, Its people are, in many re- spects, such as only American conditions produce, yet their differences from each other, and from the world at large, are not the passing differences of speech and man ner and style of living, but are, in the mafn, fundamental in human nature, and make them finteresting and important in themselves apart from the accidents of | their present situation. McClure, Phillips & Co., New York. Price, $1.50. | Myrtle Reed ach.eved distinction when | she wrote “Love Letters of a Musician, ’ which was so favorably received last year | and which was reviewed at length in these | columns. Tt was hardly to be presuwed | that she could repeat the first success, cer- | tainly not along the same liues, and yet | in her new book, “‘Later Love Letters of | a Musician.” she has equaled If not sur- passed tho Interest of her earlier letters. | Here will be found the same delicate fancy, the samo beautiful imagery, the same musical phases from - well known com- posers, introducting the several chapters and giving the key to their various moods How successfully Miss Reed has accom- plinhed her purpose in both series of lot- ters will perhaps be best realized when we recognize how dangerously near the beau- tiful sentiment embodied In these letters approaches to the sickly sentimentality, which s never apparent in either volume 1t will be remembered that the first series of letters were written by a young vio- linist, who was, as he supposed, hopelessly attached to the beautiful girl to whom the letters were addressed. These letters, which were never intended to actually meet her eye and which were, s he sup- posed, safely posted in the recesses of his own trunk, yet through accident accom- plished theii mission. A serious iliness befalling the young musician, the letters were found and posted, the result being the bringing together of the two lovers While the present volume is in reality a continuation or sequel to the first series, yet the thread of the plot upon which the story Is strung Is so slight—both volumes depending for their interest upon the beauty of the language and the delicate fancy apparent on every page—that ignor- ance of the contents of the first volume need be no special drawback to our en- joyment of the present series of letters P. Putoum's Sous, New Yory. Price, Maurice Thompson's new story, “Alice ot 014 Vincennes,” is receiving the most flat- tering notices from reviews, and it prom- ises to be equally popular with the public. The characters are as animated as they are diverse, including soldlers, Indlans, the early French settlers of Indiana, a dear old priest of plous heart and the arm of a Friar Tuck, and a_beautiful young woman of he- rolc and tender mould. Uncle Jason is par- ticularly delightful, full of that wonderful French galete de coeur that laughs at dan- ger and deatb. Such a book comes Into the morbid fiction of the day like a breath of October air. There is tonic in its pages The women of those stirring times had a simple code of love and loyalty that did not include other women's husbands. Life, whether In peace or in war, was too ener- getlc and strenuous for overmuch intro- spection. The day's work filled hearts and hands. The ‘“idle brain” which is “the devil's workshop” was rarely found. Mr. Thompson has recently shown how Indiana Is forging to the front in letters. The old question “Who's yer?" (which gave the name to the Hoosler state) 1s to be a: swered now by a long list of those who have achieved thinigs of which the mother state may well be proud, and of these Mr. Thompson {s in the foremost rank. Bowen- Merrill company, Indlanapolls. G. P. Putnam's Sons have conferred a genuine favor upon the reading public in bringing out a cheap edition of Theodore Roosevelt's works. It will be known as the “Sagamore KEdition” and will sell at 25 cents per copy. This set has been made to meet a popular demand for a good inex- pensive edition of writings which have se- cured a place for themselves in the perma- nent literature of the country, and which at this time possess a speclal interest in the light that they throw upon the char- acter and the opinions of thelr energetic and public-spirited author. The first num- ber of the edition now at hand is “The Wilderness Hunter,” and it will be followed in rapid succ.ssion by the other volumes The print s good and the low price ought to insure for it general favor. In the garret of the Smith homestead at Sharon, Conn., built in 1765, Miss Helen | Evertson Smith has had nccess to thou- | sands of family letters, golng back some 1200 years, and it 1s mainly from this source | that she has reconstructed the family litc of the seventeenth and elghteenth cen- turies, as presented in her new book *Col- onial Days and Wars." But she Is relatod not only to the representative families of New England ,but also to the best known of the old Dutch and some of the Hugue- not families of New York, and several of her most interesting chapters describe early conditions in New York and New Rochelle and in the manor houses along the Hudson river. In presenting her sub- ject, Miss Smith s careful to distinguish between matters of record and purely tra ditional material. Some of the titles of the thirty-two chapters are: “The Alpha |bet of Colonial Stud A Ploneer Par |son,” ““Two Houses in Old New Amster |dam,” “The Escape of a Huguenot Fam ily Ate In an Early Colonial Manor," “A Literary Club in 17%0,” “A Colonia) Wedding,” “New England’s Festive Day" and “A New York Frolic.” The Century company, New York. Price, $2.50. “In Hostile Red: A Romance of the Mon mouth Campalgn,” 18 by J. A. Altsheler whose “In Circling Camps” was favorabl received last year. Two dare-devil Amer- fcan officers who flgure as the heroes of the story ride into Philadelphia, where Howe and his army are feasting and making merry, In the uniforms of two newly-arriyed Britishers whom they have captured. Their hazardous adventuro carries them through some hairbreadth escapes and introduce them to the sturdy old patriot, John Des mond and his beautitul daughter., The par tlsan leader Wildfoot and his extraordinary exploits, and the battle of Monmouth, wher: the terrible heat was almost as deadly a the bullets, fill the story with dramatie in cidents. Doubleday, Page & Co., New York Price, $1.50, Albert Lee has earned a brilliant reputa tlon within the la%t two years as a novell of the Dutch republic. His new romance “King Stork of the Netherlands," with it thrilling tale of the betrayal of William an his people by the faithless ruler in whon they trusted, sketches in & singularly vivic fashion @ chapter of history which canno Does This Remind You & of Anything You Wish? Stationery, School and Office Supplies. o " " 1308 FARNAM. TEL. 234 \¢ EEEE FECEEERLC be read without deep interost and emotion Mr. Lee will be remembered as the author of “The Koy of the Holy House" and “A Gentleman Pengione All three of his books have been brought out as a part of the Town and Country library. D. Apple ton & Co, New York, Price, $1 “Mothor Goose for Grown-Ups,” by Guy | Wetmore Carryl, is a volume of jingling | rhymes containing many amusing hits that | will be found very entertaining for an idle hour. The verse might be described humorous adaptations of our venerable nursery songs, that are even more amusiug than Mr. Carryl's parodies of “La Fon taine," published some time since. The i1+ lustrations by Peter Newell and Gustave Verbeek are sufficient by themselves to at tract attention. It fs a valuable gift book for anyone with a sense of humor. It might | be added that some of the verse was origl- | nally published fn Harper's Magazine and | the Saturday Evening Post. Harper & Bros., New York | m as | The above books are for sale by the | Megeath Stationery Co., 1308 Farnam | Leave Bufialo 8:00 P, M., Arrive New York Ti5% AL W, Lehigh Valley railrond—"Exposition Luxurious sleeping cars. “SOME RECENT SUCCE e SR A SO NEW PURLICATIONS MR. MIAN The New Orleans Picayune concludes a comparison of this book with l'B]", Baxter's Letters”’ thus— ““They are written in much the slangy but effective style same tmmediate and lasting the reader s attention. Mr, book ought to have a wide make a reputation for its TALES OF THE EX-TANKS By CLARENCE LO CULLEN, Some capital Omaha “Tales” i this book. «ame ve the im on Cullen's ke and Send in your address ana mention this paper and we will mail _yow free one of the" Tales,"a booklet of 20 pages AT ALL BOOKEE!L RETRICK§128 GROSSET & DUNI'AP, 11 East 16th St. N.Y SEUL _FICTION *One of the prettiest and best books of the year'—Boston Herald. Monsieur Beaucaire, By BOOTH TARKINGTON, Author of “The Gentleman from Indiana.” | “The book in its outward and visible form s uncommonly harmonfous with its inward_gra. Hook News. Fifth Editlon, with decorations by €. B. Hooper, and f{llustrations in two colors €. D, Willlams. Cloth, 12mo, $1.25. A novel of modern society. The Archbisop and the Lad " By MRS, SCHUYLER A'm»\Y\'l.\'numl.h “If Tam any judge, Mrs. Crowninshield's novel 18 going to make something like n sensation. It has a most remarkable plot There is a ‘g0’ in the book. annette L. Gilder, Editor of the Critic. Second Edition, Cloth, 12mo, $1.50, A Thoroughly American Novel. The Datrlingtons, By ELMORE BLLIOT AKE “The Dariingtome’ 1s a novel so ready and unfalling in Its interes story, that it 18 all that need be desired, and yet it has the intrinsic value that comes of avolding what s trivial and what !s unreal and im- posaible, cond Edition, Cloth, 12mo, $1.50. A Novel for I'rue Lovers. /i y April's Sowing, By GERTRUDE HALL. There I8 not a problem here as large ns a man's hand, save that of how a maid and & man shall, through many difficuls ties, reach the end they both desire. Illustrated, Cloth, 12mo, $1,50. A New Novel of Character, The Day of Wrath, By MAURUS JOKAT The nature of this story is revealed its title. Dr. {18 to0 well known as a maker of strong and stirring literature to need prafs Cloth, 12mo, $1.25. Love and Adventure in War, The Fugitives. By MORL Author of “A genul onfcle T “A declded advance on N. Y. Herald Sccond Edition, Y ROBERTS, Th L y artistic Plttsburg legraph. “The Colossus. Cloth, 12mo, $1.00, “‘A story of compellin Boston Heral The Circular Study. hy— ANNA KATHARINE 1f the test of merit in Titing hower of sustiining (he mystery su ng the erime then better detectlv than this was never written Opinfon Third Edition, Cloth, 12mo, $1 interest.”— the und story Public “A remarkable b An artistic work of fictic N. Y. Mail and Express. An Eagle Flight, By DR. JOSE RIZAL. A novel of life' fn the Philippines by natlve Filipino, a patriot and a hero, T book has mendous influcnce the author's native land. Cloth, 12mo, $1.00. he in On Sale at i Megealh Stationery Company's Sore in Omaha, and Published by McCLURE, PHILLIPS & CO., 141-155 East 25th Street, New York. verybod agazipe The Beautiful Christmas A splendid tistic of ten. Tensons: With the zine becomes an Integral part maker Book bpsin A BOOK STORE, NEW YOR Lior Sale on All News-stands. Number Now Ready. A Flow of Story and a Feast of Wit. Issue—the handsomest and most are -cont magazines—and this is one of the December Number, Everybody's Maga of the great Wana- ady popular, a new T of growth, in character and lation, will Kin at the change. The highest editorial id Titerary ability, superfor paper, d printing, artistie fllustration, be so sirongly united as (0 Everbody's Magazine the first popular periodical in the countr; Its spirit will be patriotic nd strongly American. Its tone will be strong and ele- vated. Its style will ght and breezy, shall make erybody's Magazine especlally” the monthly for the ‘home. The Christmas num- ber has a autiful cover in = gold and green. Price, $1 a year, 10 cts. a copy. 0 incrense the pald subseriptions to ONT HUNDRED THOU- BAND o véry special st of premium offers has been made It will be malled 10 you upon request. muke K. Books at Big Discounts. We will continue in our cut prices untii the Holidays 80 as to give every- body an equal chance to procure good this coming week CUPID'S GARDEN, by Ellen Thornycroft Fowler. presents at & popular price. $1.00 buys Besides the prices which we carry over from this week we offer bargains in all de- partments Twain, regular price $1.75. 70 buys the following books: “Life on the Mississippl,”” by Mark “Little Journey in the World,” by Charles Dud- ley Warner, publishers' price $1.50; “‘House Boat on the Styx and Pursult of House Boat,” by titles in this serles; “Black Rock,” by John Kendrick Bangs, regular Ralph price $1.2 Connor, 4ic, and six other publishers’ price “Home Folks and Love Lyrics,” by James Whitcomb Riley, 80c, pub- rice $1.25; all of Ella Wheeler Passion,” “‘Poems of Rleasure,” “Maur! Wilcox's works, such as “Poems of Ine," «te,, 7he, publishers' price $1.00; “Knights of the Cross,” two volumes, by the suthor of ““Quo Vadis,” $1.00 a sot, publishers clty. price $2.00. The largest an The new script letter seal for 26c. Baskets, Navajo Blankets, Mexican Zarapas, other oddities. nd swellest line of juvenile books in the Statlonery, Gdmes, News, Indian - Barkalow Bros.’ Bookshop, 'Phione 320, 1612 Farnam Street Mail orders for books, add 12c for postage