The evening world. Newspaper, November 14, 1911, Page 18

a The Evenin ESTABLISHED BY JOSEPH PULITEHB, | »: Press Pub! Moa 53 to Prwdlished Dally Except bp gk ree chpaeans Comeean, PUL! President, 63 MGNGUS SHAW: iTreaturen, 63 Per tet, a PULITZER, Jr, Secretary, Entered the Post-Ofice at New York @eoond-Class ten, @ubecription Rates to The Se Ley roee ot, Creer Claes Aiiieet and ‘World for the United States "AU Gourtriea in the International end Canada, Postal Union, see 08.50] One Year. ssees 80} 0One Mont NO TIME TO DICKER. NE LESSON the “business man in politics” alwaya has to O learn. That is that some things cannot be subject of a bargain. The dry goods merchant leaning over his counter in a dicker with a customer is a figure that government protects but does not pedestal. Jobn A. Dix never quite Jearned this at Albany. He forgot it altogether when ho discussed the strike in the Street Cleaning Department here and said, “I would advise both sides to get together. Business men do.” Another John A. Dix used another language in the presence of disorder and insubordination to the public authority. That language is still heard, but it comes from Mayor, not from Governor, For the honor of the community of which Mr. Dix is too little heedful, Mr. Gaynor is no trafficking business man when the party of the second part is a mutinous public employee with a briok in his hand, and when the matter at issue involves the authority of the city, the general health and the law. “This city will knuckle to nobody, but will treat everybody justly,” says William J. Gaynor. Let John A. Dix ponder the words and learn something to his advantage. History repeats itself and New York City has had riot before, a mayor who did his duty and a governor who paltered with disorder. The defiant outbreaks of the week recall the Draft Riot of July, 1963, when Mayor Opdyke kept his nerve, and when Gov. Seymour, standing on the steps of the City Hall, truckled to a mob which had de- fied the public authority and set scores of fires and murdered negroes by the hundred. As the historian Rhodes recites, he addressed them aa “my friends” and “coaxed, pleaded and promised, evidently think- ing that honeyed words would assuage the tumult.” Good citizens will hold up the Mayor’s hands now, and trust that | if the Governor cannot help in keeping the public peace, he will at | least keep his own. ———_+4-—_ —_—_ THE AGE OF WOMAN. has been thirteen years since the State Federation of Women’s [ o met in this city, and the years have bean momentous for | them, interesting for the rest of us. The Federation which as- sembles here to-day has more than a thousand women delegates where it had 150 in 1898, and represents 350 clubs with a membership of 75,000. It has participated in woman’s enlargement as well as pro- moted it. 4 + Since these clubwomen gathered here last the property holders of their sex have won right: to vote in village and town elections on propositions “to raise money by tax or assessment.” The sex has won fnll right to vote in Washington and California. From the six equal suffrage States women will cast half » million ballots in the election of 1912, The spread of political socialism in this country carries with it the movement for universal suffrage. The militant +suffragette, as distinguished from the hotel tearoom suffragist, is a phenomenon scarcely five years old. The first use the women of Norway made of the ballot was to retire the party that granted it. They reasoned that the concession was proof of @ dangerous radical- ism. The most poignant popular agitation of the time—that against World Dail Ma Can You Beat It? By Maurice Ketten. azine, Tuesda ‘Ae nae Copyright, 1011, ty The Pres Publishing Oo. (The New York World). | Gen. Galusha Pennypacker at Fort Fisher. ARELY has a soldier who was wounded in a general battle been able to say truthfully, aw the man who shot me. I saw him aim his gun and I felt his bullet.” . In an old brick mansion, No. 30) South Tenth street, in Philadelphia, | lives Gen, Galusha Pennypacker, who has been called “the hero of Fort | Fisher." A dig, tall man, with tron Jaw and kind blue eyes, he stands straight up, but when ‘aiks the pain of wounds he received forty-five yours ago | deepen the ines of his face and set his jaw tighter—an embattled soldier, Umping ° on his right leg. Gen, Pennypacker {8 @ living proof of the truth of the statement that “the j ctvin war was fought by boys.” He enlisted ax a non-commissioned staff offeer jin the Ninth Pennsylvania Volunteers in April, 1861, being then a schoolboy at | Phoenixville, Pa., and not yet seventeen years old. Throughout all the war he served. On Feb. 18, 1865, at the age of twenty years and elght months, he was | commisstoned Brigadier-General of Volunteers, the youngest general officer of the civil war, He was breveted major-general of volunteers on March 25, 1865, and recetved the Congressional Medal of Honor “for bravery at the battle of Fort Fisher.” Me remained in the army after the war, and in 1867 was breveted major-general, | U. S.A. Ip 1883 he retired because of his wounds. In 14 he was commissioned brigadier-general (retired) of the U. 8, A. I eat last week with Gen. Pennypacker in his house and read aloud from the oMcial report of Gen. Terry to Gew, U. S. Grant on the capture of Fort Fisher; “Pennypacker was most severely wounded while carrying forward the standard of one of his foremost regiments “You carried the standard—you, the commander of the brigade?” I asked. “Well, well—I was a boy. Boys do those things,” he sald, somewhat impa- tlently. T read aloud from the narrative report of the assault on Fort Fisher written | by Col. George F. Towle, Inspector-General of the Tenth Army Corps: “The two | brigades, led by Curtis and Pennypacker, then advanced along the land front, jcarrying each traverse successively against the most desperate opposition, but | with heavy loss. There, too, Pennypacker received the desperate wound that | kept him tn hospital at Fortress Monroe through eleven weary months of pain. ig. Idolized by his men—young in year: is body was atready covered received in battle. Selaing the flag of his old regiment, the Ninety- seventh Pennsylvanta, he rushed up the fifth traverse, then held by the enemy, his men following close. A storm of rifle bullets greeted him as he reached the crest, one laying him low, It was feared forever. Not Ney himself could have surpassed the valor with which Pennypacker and Curtis had ted thelr brigades Into Uhe fort and charged the traverses, always in advance’ — The General interrupted: “Why do you go over that?" He was embarrassed | and visibly pained, | “Because it was. great moment, a glorious moment, when you went over the Parapet with that flag! Did you see the man who shot you?” He seomed electrified for a moment. He said shortly, Uke one who would for- get a scene of horror but remembers too well “[ did see him—a big North Carolinian. It this way on that Sunday after noon: I wes only a boy. I took my flag and planted it on tne parapet, which was twenty feet high. There were elght or ten men with me going over. When we got over the top there was tho traverse, ten feet above us, and a whole pla- toon, twenty men—the enemy—rose up from behind the traverse and fired. I saws the man taking aim at me. He was about twenty feet away. “I fell forward at the feet of the men who had fired. I kept my mind clear; I could see and hear, but could not move. My men rushed up at them and the men behind the traverse surrendered. I atill could see the man who had shot me. My orderly said to him, ‘Take off that blanket and give it to us to carry eway this wounded officer!’ “The Confederate, a eavage fellow, growled flercely, ‘Tf won't give up my blan- ket! I'm @ prisoner and I'm entitled to my blanket!’ “The next inetant my men, with clubbed muskets, dashed out his brains; he died instantly. Foy se téood of my men was up and they were as savage as the Carolinian. I closed my syee and they carried me away in that dlanket, but the horror of {t has never gone out of my mind to this day! “The bullet, a Minte ball, went through my right hip close to the apinal cord. | Yes, we were boys, and the glory of war moved us then. But I remember iittle | of the glory of war. I recollect only tts horror. Perhaps that is because my wounds have pained for forty-five yea: ‘ Copyright, 1911, by The Press Publishing Oo. (The New York World). “‘Sartorial Number.’’ high cost of living—is essentially s woman’s movement, since ies the market basket. In every‘ field of human activity one notes the print of woman’s French heels or the menace of her unguarded hatpin. The Jatter various boards of aldermen are straggling to abate, The for- mer s German ccientist attacks as tending to ebolish the little toe and, by impeding circulation, to induce “reptilian characteristics.” For woman’s sake special cars were run on the Hudson tube trains, and then withdrawn. Men are marooned on the Brooklyn Bridge train platforms until women havé found seats. Women school-teach- ore if this city have won the fight for equal pay. The woman aviator has appeared, and the “investment widow,” predestinate of the get-rich-quick game; and the woman who les progressive euchres with @ marked deck and a conductor's pench; and the woman whom people sue for breach of promise; and the cigarette-smoking woman at whom the solons inveigh; and the greman who does the Hindoo, the Classio and the Salome dances with- eut impediment of drapery or fleshings; and the woman who takes teamps over the country; and the woman who climbs mountains; and the woman who “impedes traffic”—a!l this since 1998. Everywhere you go you will find women active nowadays—even in the home. IN THE CHINESE MIRROR. ‘ oie Chinese revolution is a mirror in which are reflected most of the things that have engrossed man as a political animal. Ancestor worship and patriarchal rule app in the boy Emperor’s edict professing like another Loeb that it is all his fault. Nace conflict is presented by the uprising of the native Chinese against the garrisoning Manchus. Alien financial exploitation is seen in the railroad development against which protest has mounted. Again, as in the French Revolution, there ia the phenomenon of a constituent assembly preparing to mako itself a national legislature. Our own war of secession is recalled by the project to divide China Wu Ting-fang’s notion that China might become a federated state, in part copying into a northern monarchy and a southern republic. } the American Constitution, in part the German Empire, suggests a atudy of the differences hetween two powerful federated systema, and %¢ swayed the respects in which the Swiss republic partakea of both, : Here in the Orient’s melting pot are all the things of Westery politics—all save one. China tried Socialism many centuries ago, and discarded it. ording to the Jeanit missionaries AN AMERICAN GUESS, where t TO SOME TRUSTS. With apologies to Hisley.) Gordon Castle King ‘There! little trusts, don't ery! 4 call upon the 1D v They have treated you bum, T kno once taken for a hou Son j And the giad wild ways body had begged the Duke to samp tt o1 - ‘4 burgundier of Calif h i Of the olden days pone arte . Are things of the long ago. I : ef courne, “Richmond and Gordon. Mat you'll find some way to get br, oases duly arrived addressed to ‘M. Phere! hittle trusts, don't oryt Richmond and Gordon, Gordon Castle me —Lappinestt’s, Hotel."—London Opinion. LOTHHS may make the man, but the “lines” make the woman. In te ort of dreasing a little taste excecdeth ROW D great etravagance, and an ownce of “chic” {s worth @ pownd of display. Nowadays the average woman's hat is an insult to her face, a joke on her intelligence and @ blot on her ‘soutchcon. A mon doesn’t know thie year's importation from last year's “home made,” nor ten-dollar “Irish” from ten-cent val.; but it's wonderful how he can distinguish a emartly-dresscd woman from a frump a block away. Tf angels really wear the sort of flowing mother hubbards in which they are pictured, it's not astonishing that there ia no marrying in Heaven. yy Helen Rowland Many a woman loses her husband's heart by wearing old clothes to save hie pocketbook. | The girl who tints her hatr a trifle too yellow, holde her ekirta a trifie| too high and cuts her gowns a trifle too low evidently doesn't realize that | even the Lorelet couldn't fascinate a man tf she sang too loud. ro TOil, by The Press Publishing Co, erat (eS fork World). Ne MR. JARR LOSES OUT AT HIS OWN GAME. MET Mre, Jenkins downtown The greatest problem of a woman's fe is not the sex problem, nor the soul problem, nor the marriage problem; it's the problem of how to look| made-to-order on @ ready-to-wear pocketbook. Rad | Pi i caq ais. darts, When | whe came homo the other eve- After a man has been expatiating on the beauties of common-sense ning, “and I just HAD to promise her clothes for women it always qstonishes a girl to see what he turns round that we would visit them at East Ma- in the street to stare after. [ieee 8 stay all night.” “Of course they do. You know that.” “Well, then, the hotel for us," said Mr, Jarr firmly. e@ been up bungalow proposition, Ther ‘© rooms in a bungalow. I living in @ shack. Did I ever Any man prefers a dinner of cold canned things opposite a “dream” to braced in her arms, together with her 7 “4 ” fox muff, Anh@ Mr. Jarr had visions 2 USGHE GL Rome coanae ee Rests eSNG Onere: lot a steady arrival of C. 0. D. consign-/ tell you about my experience in a ments on the morrow. |mountatneer’s cabin in the wilds of “Nothing doing #o far as I am con-| West Virginia One woman's hat is another woman's heart-ache. Sandman Stories ? Cris (ha size Press Publishing Co, fork World). Bessie’s Theatre. ey ek my dear,” said little Beesic'e mamma, Kissing the child's ttle puckered-up mouth. “Oh, mamma, I want to go, whined Beasio, “But you cannot, my dear,” answered her mother, “I am going to the theatre. And auch tiny girls ae you are not al lowed to go." “Please tell me what they do there. | mamma," urged the child, "Oh, they dance and sing, They dance Wke the lady on my fan," she said, and left the room, for she was already late for the play. Little Bessie had often wished that she could see some one dance like that lady on the fan she looked #o prett as she stood thi with one hand above her head and the other holding up her pretty lace dross! ‘'Ploase,” Bossle pleaded with the dancing tady, “please dance for me, won't you Besste joked at her ao too! nestly and 0 long that the lady on the fan vegan 1 to move, Very sowly, step by step, and swung {nto graceful poses on the teakwood tab! Once she curtsied; then she raised he f on tip 7 toe amd held her own fan back of her head. a Pretty tunes went ‘round and ‘round in Besste's brain, and to these the dancer kept perfect time. They grew 1 er and louder untf the cloar, sweet es Mled the room and the lady danced more bilthely every moment Guddenty the door opened. Mamma had returned "Look, look, mamma!" “T have @ theatre, too.” But the dancer had stepped back into the fan and was standing just as ever, ‘with one hant above her head and the ether catching up her pretty lace ekirt. cried Bessie Written and Illustrated & By ewan a ae. ee As Mrs. Jarr was, strange to say, all, |, “Now there you go!" cried Mra; Jarr, tention, Mr. Jarr told her, ‘ “Juat let me propose @ thing and right| “A friend of mine and I were hunting ‘ay you sneer at it! It's mighty |! the mountains of West Virgini sirange to me that you refuse to viait |"ad applted for supper and shelter hice peonle~e._ man in your own office | Mountain cabin. ‘There was only on and his family—simply, I euppose, be-|T00m in the cabin, This one room was rg Coe a ear lany as Kitchen, bedroom and dinti trip out to Haat Malaria. And yet you were the vers! man who hae besn crasy for us to move out to one of those sub- urban towns. Oh, yes, I know your) "¥ a ped) . You do not want to go| “After supper the children gat sleepy’ ive beep you think I would like to} Ma demanded to be put to bed, We | asked if we might sleep on the floor by the fire, but the farmer sald the dogs wouldn't sleep with strangers, and re- quested we walt till the children got wound asleep and woe would-be taken care of, “As soon as the children wore fast | asleep the farmer and his wife Ufted them out on the floor and we got into the bed, Tired out by our ¢ramp we never atirred till daylight, when we were awakened by the dogs, who had evidently been put out some time during the night, acratching to get in, We found ourselves beside the ati al ing children, After we had first fallen op the farmer and his wife must have lifted us out, too, for they were oooupying the bed themselves," ‘Do you mean to tell me that the Jen- kingos are like that?” asked Mra, Jarp, ‘Do you think they have only ene bed and that it te uaed only for people wr GWr to sleep in? Do you think Mp, and Mra, Jenkina are going to ladle first thelr oblldren and then their gi out of thelr one bed on te the floor then. get inte bed the: foolish of yout" “Just the ame, we'll go to Hast Ma- Eleanor Schorer ‘Oh, I'll go if you want to go," sata Mr. Jarr, with a sudden change of front. ‘‘When are we to go?" “Oh, never mind, now. cuss it!" the same, a trip, as going out to Ei me good. I need a change, I'm atuck in the house from morning till night, ) and never get my nose outside the door’—here Mrs. Jarr rubbed the nose in question, {t being cold from her shopping trip—"'and much you care!” Jarry realized he had violated the great law of the great game of Husband Can Have His Own He had began dy not agreeing with his wife. He knew now that if he had agreed enthusiastically with his | good lady about the visit to the Jen- |kinses Mre, Jarr might have thougat he would have a good time and enjoy lft, and that would have ended the/ | matter. \ “I think it would be nice to go out) there, now I come to tink of It.” eaht Mr. Jarr, still hedging, “It's @ little late for autumn leaves, but a crisp day | in the fresh air will do us both good, eats and ves? Hew | ame Twill not sleep all night / laria's leading hotel for the night," maja at Jonk! the obstinate Mtr, Jarr, "Il know bunga “How'll we get back?” asked Mrs,| lows, ‘The Jankines will he making pa Jarr, ‘There's no train from Wast take the only bed while thi shakedowns and sofas, Priya) give us for St, I know bungalows, I gay, Mayve we'd haye to sleep on mission couches op morris chairs, No, aie? 30, on the comprom: ey . at Hast Mataria’s loadin; arr agreed to week Jeaminses to Enoy Malaria bividh vad r meee Malaria after 11 o'clock, and Mrs, Jen- kins 1s going to have @ card party in| our honor," | “We'll sleep st a hotel,” eaid Mr. Jerr, firmly. "T've been up againat that awful institution, the yy ye sere som, before. Besiies, don't jon. ttnges ve ine pengalews”