The evening world. Newspaper, February 7, 1912, Page 17

PAUL. SIDNEY CARTON SCROOGE gia? M 2% PICKWICK (‘Pickwick i avers") was an old gentle: jish lawyer, whose recklessness and <1 man who, retiring from bus tove of drink had ruined his pros: \. ’ sought to win fame as a scten-' ‘ 5 Uist, “Ho founded the Pickwlek Club, »| night ihe mete ras ited a bad lid of which he was president; then, at-| ™/SMt love an angel an < his misspent Hfe to her happiness. Lucy's husband, Charles Darnay, was Wrinkle, Tupman and Snodgrass, he|*¢ed by the French terrorists, eet forth upon a voyage of aclentife | °barged with the mortal crime of exploration, ‘This “voyage” did not] Deine an aristocrat and condemned carry him out of his own land, but) t? death. Carton took advantage of {t led bim into quaint inne, old-time|# strong Personal likeness between chentry houses, borough elections | }!mself and Darnay to set the latter and a series of highly amusing ad-| fee and to take his ‘place on the ventures, lis blunders and those of | S*#lJotine. his three comrades were continually | getting the whole party into hot| the water. A frustrated duel, an elope tended by Sam Wel! aud his three devoted followers, r, his servant, happiness that and @ sojourn in prison were a few) Miserable past, of the results. Mr. Pickwick’s char- acter and exploits are redeemed from } fa", mere buffoonery by the man’s simple|have ever done. It beauty of soul. better rest that SYDNEY CARTON ("Tale of Two ever known!” ee far better thing that I do than I is a far, Cities") was @ dissolute young Eng © As he mounted the scaf-]was a hideous, one-eyed scoundrel situation fokl it was granted to him to foresee} who made a tine living for himeell his sacrifice and his equally rascally family by) |retifrn from sea | would bring to Lucy and to know/ running a school for boys whose par-, ment, a suit for breach of promise | that he had gloriously redeemod hig!ents or guardians were anxious to! Carton’s lips moved! et rid of them, 1 the half audible words: “It {s a| beat and overworked the little un- fortunates trusted to his care, know. far | ing their parents would neither know I go to than T have! Ror care. cruelty came when young Nicholas Nickleby, thrashed and balf killed him in the presence of the whole school. ‘od of teaching was somewhat orlg-| a horse wes @ quadruped, he would} drive home the lesson by bidding the, Evening World Daily Magazine. He was a poor man's eon; robbed thing that could help him to success. tion that Dickens was totally lacking steadter year by year. of one's own family. Hf ol yyof unscrupulous men. From this SQUEERS ("Nicholas Nickleby”) | eee Biee > Honeely | {alone carried him to safety. On the of his employer's son, whom every one had belleved to be dead, Boffin eagerly turned over the annoyingly great fortune to its rightful helr, Chief among his many deeds of tactful kindness was the re- forming of a spoiled, vain girl's char- acter, and leading her, by the artifice of violently opposing the match, to arry the man she really loved BILL SIKES (“Oliver Twist”) was Squeer’s meth-|2 burglar and a professional thug. He did the “strong arm work” There he starved, A temporary check to his, his assistant, | inal, and was profltable—to himeelf. | for a gang of crooks of whom Fagin | He would call on a boy to spell{was the ruling spirit. In spite of ;“quadruped.” Then, remarking that | bis brutality there were two beings in the world that adored Sikes, One boy go out and clean e horse./other was his villainous looking Again, to teach the meaning of bulldog. Nancy, turning from her ‘“potany” (which he spelt “bottney”), | life of dishonesty, sought to set | he would set the class to weeding hig Sikes's feet in the straight path. But | garden. Sikes, belleving she had betrayed MR. BOFFIN (“Our Mutual Fagin's gang and himself, murdered WILLIE JARR FALLS Friend”) was a lovable, gentle old her. While escaping from the police INTO APACHE HANDS. M* BLAVINSAY, the glutier, was | Pe Raval out on a fob when Vie al band of young Apaches of the nelgh- | Vorhood descended upon his sop. Tho be!! over the door jaugied tts @isgonant warning as they flocked in the | ¢st of the party and the largest, was fellow who suddei'y very rich when his employer died, supposedly childless, educate himself and his kindly wife | and to live up to the high station Ito which they had been so un found himself he accidentally hanged himself. LITTLE NELL (“Old Curtosity His efforts to half-crazed old man who eked out a seanty Mving by keeping a shop xpectedly where antiquities were sold. The dusty, littered shop, with crates of ibe Ta b, ‘thrust were almost as heti+ old man was a gambler and to rals> wlass, bits glass, plain and orna-; O!ng all the wor laughable. Incidenta these efforts funds for gambling stole the fuental, scattered around, and here and|imself lucky if he shared ever 2 th Paleenets cue san iat Poreruiaiarnnd iy oct hoa ane there an unframed section of mirror | *sntly the spoils, hreatened vp granddaug! arding for “AW, sQ/an and pull de toot Taster Slavinsky, in a aomineer'og! tone, to the overgrown and sapheaded glass standing in a reflective attitude ‘With Its back against the wall, “Who is it?” bawled Mrs. § ineky | from the top of the stairs that led up SHEE bey ros thing yuh know, Slavinsky vin, rtments, “Is | ¥U Bt hit a Kick! EOD? SISTER? BEE ARATE “Aw, Watcher tet Gueste Bepler !n| Master Slavinsky bawled back that it Sahae at tall fer?" asked M: | Me nay , “Don't break no glass by the store," I b'long to the gang, Don't 1 Ick the follers of the Av'noo crowd fer | yuh? expostulated Master Bepler, tn | 4 pleading tone. “Aw, shut up! chorused the ri and Master Jarr was heard to sey ‘fj the tooth wasn't tracted right amar | | | called down the cautious mother, who heard tho voices of the other boys, T told you to be careful lass of your poppers? said Master Slavinsky, turn- “Now,” ing to Master Jarr and the rest of his he'd go to tho dentist with the dollar, op!" eried Master Rang! in should *.@ rut on {t to kill the pain!” : ale Was a poser, and {t halted the ceedings. boyish companions, “now, here ts the| pinchers what my father uses pales ios out the brads what holds the sina tn before he putties.” Saying which, he produces poy tnd} I know,” paid Master Muller, “ruv Paternal work bench @ formidable palr Kerosene on Mt. Old Mrs, Dusenberry of rusty old pliers, [put kerosene on red flannel und “Ah, I betcher he's afraid!” taunted Master Johnny Rangle, as a pallor epread over the countenance of Master Jarr. “No, I ain't, Go ahead and pull the 14 tooth!” replied our hero. And he seated himself on a box marked “10x12 Lights,” and bared the tooth for the sacrifice, bossing the Job, gimme the dol- lar!" sald Master Slavinsky, ‘Naw, don't let him have it! Holl keep it!" chorused the other dear Ittle wr ped {t around my throat when tt an’ old Mra. Dusenberry ts a lavizsky found come kero sene in a can under the work bench and promptly ~ubbed !' on Master Jarr’s aching molar, “Ow!” bawied Master Jarr, How {t burns!" “But ain't tt killint the pain? asked Master y. day, I ought to git r fest’ fer tint." “ow: ried Master Muller, “1 dove, told yer a " Here a wrangle burst forth in all the!) “Gwant auld Aduatay fer of boyhood's playful clamor, Rangle sharply. And the volce of Mrs. Slavinsky was 1, heard declaring that if they didn’t shut up she'd come ‘down with the whip to wasn't his tooth, began to pall upon him, Master Jarr opened hig mouth wide od the delay them, Mastor Bepler frasped the tooth wit! It was finally decided, in represted the pliers, closed his eyes and van ind mination, that Johnny Ransie, er Jarr, Charley Muller and Ma ter Slavinsky should each hold a corner of the dollar bill, originally intended to 4 compensate the neighboring dental surgeon for the proposed extraction, ‘ow, just for that you don't get but which was now being operated un-! nawthin' from ‘1 collar! dectaret er amateur rules. | Master Slavinsky, eppotnting Gussie Bepler, being the strongest,'the master “f the revels. “Let's sec do was delegated to pull Master Jarr’e toot’! Gee, It's a big ons | tooth with the pliera, He offered to| For one briet moment they @o it with one hand, and hold the up-| around and afmi:d the extracted per middie of the dollar between the grinder, Then, frowning upon Maste firet finger and the thumb of the other Rangle's suggestion that the open band. ‘This proposition was received with silent contempt, it being apparent that space it had left should be pliurgea with putty, they departed, whooping, for the confectionery store first and thc mney? | Mlaster Bepler, although the stromg- img picture show afterward. Schooldays dund ¢ - (mm Goooness: AR | Bauioow: MG [Pe gaavs To SAWAN Fos Charles Dickens was born one hundred years ago to-day. was Nancy, a girl thief, and the! Shop”) was the granddaughter of al " atches’’ and Foliow the String! a - Wednesday, Febru uary Te 19 of hie childhood, barred from every: With no money, no influence and no education, he began hie career, Within a few years his name was known from one ent of the world to His books were translated into every language. More than one million copies of those books are still bought eacn year. From time to time critics have arisen who proved to their own satisfac- in true greatness, These critics are for the most part forgotten, while Dickens's lustre growe stronger and His characters remain tn the memory as lving, breathing acquaintances, no more to be forgotten or counfounded with each other than the members their livelihood. Again and again; harm, shielding him from trouble ;8nd want. Forced to leave London, they wandered helpless through the country, Little Nell still acting as guide and master mind of the pitiful Journey. When at last the ordeal was passed and better days were dawning her fragile, overstrained health gave way and she died. It ts concerning her death that Diekens critics fight most flercely, some of them declaring its description a gem of true pathos, while others de- nounce {t as maudlin. BARNABY (“Barnaby Rudge") was the imbecile son of a poor wom- an who lived in the latter years of the eighteenth century. She was be- lieved to be a widow, but her worth- less husband was really alive and a fugitive from justice. Barnaby was brour ‘it up in clean poverty, but was constantly geting into scrapes through his elfin mischief and crack- brained perverseness. His favorite companion was Grip, a raven. The bird's uncanny fashion of croaking “I'm a devil!” combined with Har- naby's eerle wildness, led simple folk |to believe the pair were under sa- ‘tanfe control. The lad wore a fan- tastic costume and decked his torn hat with bedraggled plumes and flow- ers. He and Grip romped together through mad seonpaden until the fa- wt (« WeLro Fatri, Now when | SAT Go" Yoo TURN THe 006 Loose AND Here. & Tue Gone Away rie jue cat Ano THAT'LL Le THe STAING — Ween MRL. HUMP UP, urseT Tue Bercy nO SPILL LIZ TOTLE Tugu we FLOR Ano MaYeE SUMAN Ese MIGHT Were ALL REAIY= Non Bor Here Is The REAL “Dickens Centenary” Dinner: > € @& Each Guest Still Lives and will Live Forever SQUEERS mous Gordon riots ended their active the child stood between him and |oarcer, SCROOGE (“Christmas Carol”) Was @ miser, who for love of money had parted with family and friends | nd bad crushed every human im-| Dulse-out of his soul. On Christ- MAS eve a succession of spirits car- rled him back to scenes of his youth, then gave him a glimpso of the va- ried Joy and misery that were all @bout him, and finally showed bim ® prophetic vision of his own death unloved, unmourned. Scrooge Swoke at dawn on Christmas a changed man. The Christmas spirit had turned the miser into a huma~ being. He gavo freely to charity, became reconciled with his estranged | relatives, and amply made up to his clerk, Bob Cratehit, for years of tl treatment, becoming a ‘ond father to Bob's crippled ohild, Tiny Tim, PAUL DOMBEY Son") wss a fragile, delicate, fashioned” child, whose soul was too big for bis tiny body. His mother was dead, his father was a pompous | |, business man who did not under- stand him, and his only comrade was his elder sister Florence, The two children’s devotion to each other was very beautiful, loving care could not bring her ittle brother the health he needed. Sent by his father to school he grew weaker and weaker, finally pining Te Loan eeeTune is THs No senooy/ ("Dombey and] ‘old: | but Florence s | (; Fee away. His death sce: Nke Little | Nell'’s—and for the same reason— is |a point of biter controversy between | Dickens's admirers and detractors, | MR. MICAWBER ("David Copper- Range frNopsia oF PREC Conboy nding aloaly 0 below uate . aca sguaire. Mkte’ horse, “gwsdgaly ‘ae rom net once a of white Hi *iietatord CHAPTER IX. (Continued.) _ The Prince of the Z. 0. y'M sure that if you talked to Mr. Grant you would decide differently, Burrough nicest me taro usly and averted her head as Bur- looked curlously at hi a going to talk to him,” he eald suddenly. He rose and went to the door, walking out upon the gallery floor, “Grant!” he called. “Gran The man who had been roping im the corra! caught the words and the ac- compa x motion of the hand. Alica saw hin col, his rope, pase it to another | puncher who stood near, and climb over the corral fence. Then she blushed |® | again, tly Burroughs re-entered the | room, and after a few minutes the tall | young man af the river incident came in | throug! the doorway,» He stood just ‘inalde, his Mthe figure erect, alight with a curious quiry, He did not look toward Miss | burrougiw, but she cast furtive #lanoes nti rant,” sald Burroughs, after the man had settled maelf beside or, “why didn’t you tell me you ca mt rt Down? * ! ction ja that you didn't ned the young mi come trom there? young man ow old Ev rw that h put that." 1 that, why did came over quietly, and for a long out upon the gal- i ere ale be aris | you something. It's this, ve got dit- nan’ me never \range. 12 <x. Held”) is one of Dickens's most taor- oughly delightful characters. {i+ was full of wonderful maxims on * Suri muney and was forever in debt. He was strong on good ad- vice to youth, and had made a ludi- crous mess of his own life. He of- fered to guide any one to succes: and was # failure of the most com: plete, if most entertaining, kind. Hie optimism was boundless. He was eternally “waiting for something to turn up.” And as he waited instead of working, the only thing that “turned up” was perpetual ill-luck. Riders Another Great Cowboy Romance ByC.A. Seltzer, Author of “THE TWO-GUN MAN” ferent plane for Alica, She ain't gols’ to marry any sorub cow-puncher. Some day, when I've made enough money out of this here cattle benny Bm " in’ to be married to ome ene to marry @ man that et Great. The betrayed no emotion. and continued read a story In tale, In the the prince, whe was to the girl, that he must do @ certain thing be- fore the girl could ever belong to bite. It was climbin’ @ glass mountain, or ewimmin’ a lake fire, or somethiz’ Tike that, "Bot whatever ft was the Prince got the gir, They always ée the fairy tales. Alica I you're d can try. that tt can’t be done, west you to come back here an’ cuses about it. It’s this: "Twenty years ago I some white Herefords from ton, We had a quarrel an’ I them, I ain't never tried to Herefords <ince. I've swore et them from the T Down wouldn't have any. I ain't changed my mind, But while old Mverton was alive I couldn't get them, If it hadn't been that he wae afrald of the law, he'd have polsoned me long before d We fitty miles from here to It'd take one day for you " two daye mere for you hundred white Herefords back to the ZO. That's three days.” He paused and looked at Grant, whose was impassive, "m sayin’ this," be eontinued ‘If you start now an’ drive one bundred white Herefords from the T Down into my corral before sundown on the third day you get Altca, Otherwise you don't newt to waste your time gragin’ on this if you do, I'll go anin’ for you an’ I won't stop unt) I get you” “Are you sayin’ any- " “You won't ride here to| marry Alice ay aaked |e peckon f returned Bur- L 5 and nodded. kita ia [sat ns quietly, “But theyve got to be as Mt ahot a tunine|from the ‘Down. An’ you've Burrow 6 Set ® lneatae along, showin’ t ars bat fama ‘son is doin’ the sellt a the glance and gain, "L reekon you'll find i wentiy at48R | climbin’ glass mountains or swimauin’ i Par Jrant | lakes fi fire some easy elongeide of Th ae ed dubious | ™! I'm askin’ you to do," : roughs spok; again, ‘The young man turned to Altes, on . lances. he. sa',, “I've been | goin’ over to the T Dowa," he watching you aver since you've been| "On the thind day TU be Tee “ete here, You're one of them men. thag|2 0" _? don't ies anything get between tbem aa §to Be Continued) 5 8