The evening world. Newspaper, August 24, 1908, Page 10

Th Evening an Oclorly, - Published Dally Except Sunday py the Press Publishing Company, Nos. 63 te 69 Park Row, New York. J. ANGUS SHAT, See.-Treas,, 201 West 11th Sires, ' QOORPH PULITZER, Pros,, 1 Kavt Thd Bireot, [EE ontandadidda dean edaahitaaed ie Bntered at the Post-Ofice at New York as Second-Class Mall Matter. For Fngland and the Continent and "All Countries in the International Postal Union Bubscription Rates to World for the United and Cana The Evening States $3.50 8 30 One Year One Month. One Year, One Month VOLUME 49.. NO. 17,170. HE Olympic games are over, and the victorious hammer-throwers and | Marathon racers home again, But | our own Olympian game, baseball, is still in full swing, with the a test for the twin pennants growing | in interest as the “Giants” or “Pi- | rates” forge to the front and the! “Yankees” crowd Detroit, | Baseball, indeed, in the sense that) it represents the rivalry of Ameri-| can cities in national sport, more, truly reproduces the spirit of the old Greek athletic contests, along with a suggestion of the Roman games, | than imitative Olympic competitions, The ball parks are the modem Coliseums and the ball players the modern gladiators who strive for the supremacy of their cities, They are the popularddols whom the ap-| plause of the bleachers exalts to the gods as they line out the two- | baggers that bring in the winning runs. What comparable triumph does the actor or orator know? it is our “Mugsies” and ‘“Hugheys' who} ride on the top wave of present day hero-worship. | No othér sport is so deep riveted in American hearts as baseball. It-is a clean, wholesome and rational sport, more typical of national character than any other, Baseball requires no rake-off from book- makers’ receipts for its support. It pays no conscience money to country agricultural societies, It maintains no legislative lobby. It is purely a contest of skill and makes no appeal to the gambling instinct. No wife! or mother awaits her husband’s homecoming from a ball game heartsick | “to leam whether “the favorite” won or lost. ° | A word about baseball as a vested interest. It provides thousands | of young men with incomes attained by men in professional life only | after years of experience. It supports multitudes of salesmen and fac- tory workers. It has made millionaires of players who were shrewd | enough to tum its opportunities to business profit. It has large realty in-| * westments, Baseball gives occupation to hundreds of newspaper writers and artists. What great war of history from the Peloponnesian to the Russo-Japanese has been embalmed in living prose by so many compe- tent pens as describe the annual battles on the diamond? Baseball has its Macaulays on every hand. It has produced no Pindar; poets still hold aloof. Yet will not the stirring ballad of “Casey at the Bat’ live in literature? Baseball has enriched our national vocabulary to an extent cueditable to no other single agency. It is a hothouse of new words, metaphors and florid figures of speech which are the despair of the purist. It has exercised a profound influence on national manners the effect of which is worthy of consideration, TO McG An occasional act of rowdyism crops out at a ball game. A rougi on the diamond “spikes” an opponent or a rough in the “bleachers throws a bottle at the ump Baseball is not better than American human nature, The wonder is that it is so good, that among its hun- dreds of thousands of patrons there is so little disorder and so few out-| breaks of bad temper. There is a sanity about baseball which safeguards | in sporis from the cock-fighting and bear-baiting of our forefathers to baseball is the meu rune nal manners | Letters ‘from the People. Sneceeded His Brother, ‘Te the Editér of The Fy What was the relations the present Turkish ruler, At and his predecessor? Ab Hot Subway, Cool Tonnel, der brother, 1 The « 1 posed. 1 Puenday, To the Balitor Did Ava. 1%, 184, fa Tuesday? I was born or would 1h "ke to kn week | was. ning Wi Ww what To Avert ‘(me To the Falttor A cc ered a bad ring clipped off new one rep present ring Is ¢ peed for a yew open with the fi , 1 ead cont to w Now and then nrase the aman ands of the ving toeathar STONE the Plekle Problem ne om: To the E \ OUR OLYMPIAN GAME. | | contingent, but the average woman dis- | as much as men do, y Magazine, Monday, Au | The First Leaf | By ‘Scar.” World Daily | | ae We LOVES MB, né voves Me NOT ‘al Wii The Typical “Woman's Man,’ as the Average Woman Sees Him, Is Not at All Like the Luckless, Much Despised ‘‘Ladies’ Man’”’ and sobs that come from the fiddlers; where. A girl marries, raises stalwart By Kate Masterson. {79 [ao 2 Gl erat AD Ce nt rival there dvvell- he sings to them, writes to them er makes love to them, he impresses this WOMAN’S| The human volce tells many secrets, | but there's a cons idea of putting them in niches and on Man {s al-|It la a song without words. Study the /!N8 !n her soul through it all. And pedestats. ways man-|Volce of a Woman's Man and you will /usbands jeer at this unless they af) None of them marry thelr Wom find that he neither purrs nor talks | P8ychopathists, |Man—-they marry their husband: through his teeth. His tones ere in-| Women love uniforms, the glitter and ask the other to dinner, where he shines varlably deep, strong, tender, eloquent | the glory of the army and the navy" /iike a great light; and they try in vain with cadences that suggest feeling and|but here again vou get nearer to the|to marry him off to nice gitle. And plain, yet he goes | passion. \parlor-trick species. The gallant soldiers | husbands get to dislike the Woman's through life like} This one trait, then, the Woman's|! @ nation are Invariably charming—| Man—unjustly, for he cannot help be- another Alexander |Man ponsesses in all times and nations, the ee Anest ae bei eee ean ureelt vig aRrien ecorcamee Ne Cee | tee on eee, fe nih aa sy ee init fy Gane as the, because his ahirta never creale “nor do ly although not) always good 100k- ing. More often the 1s remarkably sar?—adding new/|to use that trait, the talent of the sing- ira) ii pectic reo ue Coyly behind, hie mirine worlds,/er, of the fingers of the planist, often | Q | ears. rey call him @ “Mollycoddle, na beads to his’ fat, much-married, indittereat to femi- When vou get the natural born pe omen alludeito pin as ar Gala: i 8 fat, 5 nad. © rosary, While th: ne worship in comparison with music fighter—that {8 @ different story. From (ii derstand him. Women do, pore —then you have the compelling charm, childhood days the little boy !n love There may be cleverer, handsomer, unthinking wonder, Ho 8 never & woman-charmer by in-| It ie neither the music nor the mus{-/ With the pink sunbonnet, knocks down) wittler, sadder men in the yore, but tention, at least not 90 by Instinct. clan so much ag the temperament he some other little boy and steps on him, taken on conversatlonal fences and professional heartbreak tt-|expresses so wonderfully that women as the beginning of a flirtation, The warmed up no stale eplgrams, He even smokes Well. How does he do {t? Not Intentionally. It js merely his way with all women cecause he likes all women. And this ig one reason why he Is never married football man plunges through the Ine tearing out tremulous cheers from the grand stand. He represents prowess, conquest, might, Now, if he had but the musie In his soul— against his will, {n spite of hooks and . r f all kinds. He wants t But the Woman's Man ts never a for. | Q's nets of Ul Ate iitustons °° bow down to and worship, Some sus- ceptible lobe in the back of the heads of queens, peasants, belles and bar- maids answer to the tone. So do wom- en generally go mad over ox-eyed Rigos, Chaunceys and chrysanthemum-halred eyed, Hackett-bullt beauty has his fol- lowing at atea gates and stage doors, emong the over-hearted, under-brained itkes the Beauty attitude in men almost The musical soul exists in every Wom. | padsrewakis. {tune hunter, névertheless in ninecases! hor, as a French _Pitlosopher has ‘ 2 ae, i * he remains a bachelor. He,| written: “There are many d mar- an'a Man, though {t expresses itself! Undowbiedly the music goes direct to | oUt 4 tere ideah ovata, hich ie ci | Costee but no. pleasant ones!” A. Taga only in the yolce-that of the doctor,| the feminine brain, expressing there|t)9, hae i HI ad! cannot marry one W. man without slight. the lawyer ot the clergyman, as well{pernaps the Ideal Man that lives always {reason why women love him. He never |; all the rest of them, can het ‘ ‘ \ aleaten them as common clay. Whether! Hence—-the Woman's Man. the souls of women, never el, in as that of the great tenor or the sighs we ey BY By H. A. Sohl AND PLAN A LITTLE SURPRISE BY BUYING HER FLOWERS AND CANDY Isn’t It Always the Way? WHEN YOU’ THINK YOU HAVE'NT BEEN TREATING YOUR WIFE JUST THE WAY YOU SHOULD THIS 1S THE WAY IT TURNS OUT, AT THIS See Ay tow UNDER TAKER ~ Save 4 essays and books. (reen you leave it in your other pants, Great Love Stories | of History | By Albert Payson Terhune NO, 26-SAMUEL JOHNSON AND MRS, PORTER. TALL, bony, hideously homely young man of twenty-six and a short, fat, palnted and powdered woman of forty-six were riding from Bir- | mingham to Derby, England, one day in 1735, to be married, The woman first complained that her escort rode too fast, Then, when he checked his horse's speed, she rode ahead, calling back to him that he w: riding too alowly, “Iam not to be made the slave to your caprices!" roared the bride- groom wrathfully, He set spurs to his horse and galloped out of sight around a turn in the highway, ‘The woman, weeping, caught up with him at last, only to receive a sound scolding and a warning that her future husband was not ove of those story book swains whose love thrives on tll treatment. After which the sobbing bride and scowling bridegroom rode on, side by side, to the chyech in Derby, where thelr wedding was to occur. It was an odd beginning to married life and promised scant happiness for either of the two, Yet thelr wedded years were more than ordinarily | Oren bright. The man was Samuel Johnson, the eccen- 1 { Young Husband tric, scrofulous son of a bookseller, and destined to | become the most famous personage of his day. Tha and Elderly Wife.{ woman was Mrs. Hlizabeth Porter, a plain, unpre- enn possessing widow with children as old as her young | husband, Indeed, Johnson is said to have ‘been in love, earlier, with one of | her daughters, Jn courting Mrs. Porter Johnson had told her frankly that he was pennl- less and that one of his uncles had been hanged, She replied quite as | frankly that she was no richer than he, and added that, while none of her uncles had been hanged several of them ought to have been. Johnson was wretchedly poor. He was dirty and slovenly in dress and ad boorish manners, His experience with poverty and with the ingratl- j tudo and ridicule of his fellow men embittered him and made him cynical and cross. He failed in venture after venture and began to look on ;mankind as his enemies, But, throughout, he worshipped his elderly | wife. He was blind to her ugliness, her tad tempér and the fact that she ; Was twenty years older than he, To him she was always beautiful. The paint that she plastered nalf an inch thick on her cheeks he regarded as | the soft blush of youth When she was over fifty he wrote her a letter | beginning “My dear girl’” and in the same epistle called her “My charm- ing love!” The couple went to London, There, for years, they nearly starved. John- fon bent his mighty intellect to menial literary tasks to keep them alive, | Little by Httle he won fame as a writer. England rang with praises of his Yet the erie he prized above all and the praise that most delighted him was his wif Two persons with such tempers could | uot live without disputes. Some one once asked Johnson if he and his wife ever quarrelled Johnson sized up their marital situation by answering the query in one word: “Perpetually!"’ He grew enormously fat, His face was twisted and scarred by scrof- ula, His Hnen was dirty and his clothes unkempt. Yet, to the last, his | wife was bitterly jealous lest his supposed charm of looks and manner | might lure some designing woman to fall in love with him and win his heart. The sight of these two ugly, ridiculous people, each belleving the | other a miracle cf grace and bea convulsed literary London with laugh- ‘ter, Yet perhaps there was an infinitely hetic, not unpoetic, side to it all, Sincere, lasting love, on whatever object it be lavished, must ever | command a certain respect. When she was sixty-four Mrs, Johnson fell {II The physiclans said she could not recover. Johnson was forced to continue his writing day os ud night in anter to nay for doctors and sick bed A Ridi luxuries. He could only snatch stray moments babe te from his work to be with his dying wife. People : were amazed to see so great a man doing mental yon ® labor in order to earn a few shillings for a foolish old woman who was only a clog to his brilllant career, Yet all the love of Johnson's long, strange life was centred in her, They had no children. There was no one to share with her the adoration of the eccentric geniue's intense nature, When Mrs. Johnson died her husband was inconsolable. Soon money and honors began to crown his work. But they meant Ittle to him when she could no longer share them. His friends learned to hide their smiies | when, In speaking of the poor, homely old woman who was dead, Johnson | weed to sigh and exclaim: “The pretty, pretty creature!” The dictionary (for which, of all his work, Johnson {s best known) was to have beei a source of immense profit and fame to them both, Mra. Johnson died before {tf was completed. The anniversary of her death John- son always set apart as a day of fasting and prayer. Though his renown as a weiter led many women fn after years to make violent love to htm he remained ever true to the memory of the wife for whom he - ficed his best years, ee Missing aumbere of this series will be plied upon applicati to Circulation Department, Evening World, upon saceiperartenee cent si | oS ——eonsnas Cos Cob Nature Notes, | BARBER HAND'S new billy goat Is the latest excttement in Riverside, a H pleasant ilttle suburb of Cos Cob, He arrived the other day in a big crate, somewhat to the surprise of th {soon as the aged servit nim up. ne family, who Were not expecting him. As or pulled the end out of the crate Billy promptly doubled ‘Then he put his forepaws on Herbert's shirt front and essayed to plant |@ capricornian kiss on his ruby lips. Herbert ducked. Then Billy executed a |playful gambol and barked Lish Keily's shins, Lish was only an innocent by- |#tander, but this made him hop up and down and howl. Now the neighbors stand jin rows along Herbert's fawn to admire Billy an@ wonder what Herbert wil do With nim. He ts almost as big as Harry Jones's musical helfer and refuses to eat the leavings from the kitohen. He is very fond of newspapers, however, es. Pectally the dry and musty New York ‘Times, Unfortunately but a few coples are to be found tn Riverside, Irving Bacheller, the rising young author, is building roads through part of his large estate and smoothing out some of the hummooks, By and by a few lots will be sold to Hllgible Persons who like &ood society, have the price and are not afrata of belng run over by Johnny Tyson's automobile, Jéncoln Bloftens {= going to spend the winter in Boston, He tried San Fraa- cisco last winter, Boston !s a much different town from San Francisco and not Nearly as sociable. Commuters who have lived out in Bound Brook or u Hudson cannot understand the coldness of Mr. Mellen’s conductors toward them when they move out this way, Over in Jersey the conductor calls most of his Passengers “George” and “Billy,” and asks about the baby, Mr. Mellen’s men cannot even remember the number of your card, and make you pay full fare Even then they give no rebates, | probably due to the New England temperament, " ‘This te eh Fern Leaves as a Food Preservative. N American consul reports that in parts of England fern leaves have long A been employed in packing fruit, fresh butter, &c., for market. Formerly Brape leaves were used for this purpose, but the fern leat {8 sald to be fae supertor to that of the vine for keeping articles wrapped in It fresh and whole- some. The fishermen of the Isle of Man pack thelr fresh herrings in fern, which | keep the fish fresh until it reaches market. Potatoes packed fn ferns keep mang mouths longer than those packed {n straw. Fresh meat also is preserved for |protracted period when swathed in fern leaves, It |s sald that the preservative [quality of the fern ts due to the largo quantities of salt in its composition. The | strong odor of the fern also Tepels larvae, maggots, &c,—Leslle's Weekly, THE DAY’S GOOD i ip at Plermont-ou-the- STORIES. /An ‘Elder’ Brother, | WOMAN In a Western olty, who A belongs to a community called i the “Sisters of St. John the Bap- 4 long ago spent a month in a backwoods district, Shortly after her arrival she went to the local ;wst-office and inquired If any letters had come for Sister Bornardine |The rura! postmaster looked bewildered. "Sister who?" he, asked, Incredu- | lously. “gister Bernardine," repeated the lady, “a sister of St, John the Baptist.” ° “I think not,” he answered, dublously. Then, after some reflection, he added: “Say, ain't he been dead pretty near a hundred years, now?”-—Harper's | Weekly. |Ready for the Dollar, ARJORIE, aged nine, had not M been having very satisfactory reports from school, Her father Anal norte, for the firet hun dred. you get I'll give you a dollar.” Time went on and the reward could not be claiméd. One day tae child wag Her mother sent’ for When he had gone Mare taken violently ill. tor, the di am I very Il?" vour teniperature ts a little bur the doctor thin ht ina day or s through ~~ Marjorie’s Now, mamma, | can have my dollar, Papa said he would give it to me if could get a hundred in anything,"~Dale las News. a