PART 11. FOURTEEN PAGES. AMERICAN ART ABROAD: ITS STATUS DISCUSSED BY GEORGE BOUGHTOX, R. A. HIMSELF AN' AMERICAN. BE SAYS THE CHIEF DIFFICULTY OF AMERICAN PAINTERS IS TO LIVE UP TO THEIR HIGH REPUTATION. London. August 13. It is no mere figure of speech to talk of his tvs **** m Great Britain. as. especially In —-¦» later }¦««*• The American Artist— with rte'full brand on him— has come much to the f-Utjat of art in England. Indeed, one might 1 g ~ v -again": Since the days of Benjamin t^t/neco-nd president of the Royal Academy. -Pilcter in Ordinary to His Majesty." etc; Cop uy stuart and N«u ton. there has scarcely been »hen the American artists— more or less t—^tly connect' with it occasionally— did not ,' r >^ |M pirtitrlT " Joshua Reynolds came to see first important innovation in the New in direction, and sat before it in a long and t-nr«n& «'1"«. whicn flna!1 >' he broke by Sly assuring West that he had won the day. Thi' was the dawn (that broke from a western & for a change), and its light has followed the globe ever since. Copley and Stuart managed to avoid the -nlctaanda of classicism that had engulfed so * of their time. And some of Copleys vTttie subjects -The Siege of Gibraltar." "The wnt of Bt- Helier's and Death of Major i^Lf-mf among the best and freshest «-n-ks ", that epoch and kind, and as modern ¦ •¦go" •„ treatment as if painted la this very I- ef r^ism. But they were led up to by XgLei "Death of General Wolfe." though they nnrf, surpass that excellent work. In the Xa, ti'oril Gallery in London there are several other work* br artists affiliated to if not bom actual , r Gilbert. Stuart. Newton a-d I* Wtat (generally supposed to be En«- UA or Dutch). In those days of the la« re-ury ar.d the early days of the present one African artists who did not go to Rome came to England » study, and often to practise and tet up their tents. These few fore-words I feel to be called for Vfore I com* to the portion and status of the rreeent inheritor of the American artist :n England* past. Now. lam led to suspect jnout the galleries of London. Alone and un friesde's. a small frail chip ¦ a mighty whirl pool, discouraged to bitter tears over the mag- Eificene* of the great masters. A few montns cf English. Scotch and Irirh green nature bruught me bark to life, and soon home again; where, perhaps, I should have remained, and pleased the other art limpets. But unrest and a *^nse at void and emptiness led me abroad asraln for refining ar.d refreshment. After a couple of years in France. r took London on my way home to America, with my return ticket in my pocket. But one BBC day I took the west side of hajatt-st - .-. ,i of the east sMe, and met a Gfrmin-Ara»ri' - an sculptor friend who ¦Hhovi me to his bosom — (really). He Im plored me to sray and try my luck— which I Sid— «?tfr selijr.g bach my steamer ticket and, •o to pp*ak. "burning my b^ats behind me." Then began a course of sheer good luck, as Plain and continuous M if it had set out to be tauter: To follow fast and follow faster till Its song •»? burden bore. I need not miv that I did not seek to impede thu onward tw»*p of good luck by had tact or •¦j &- of oncratly making enemies or by any "**"• except work— and patience. My good Cl a -An3erica n brought me fri-?n-ls who are |«"ser mv dearest friends to this day. In ad * to his support, I fauna 1 Mr. J. F. Cropsey, an eaiaent American artist in London, ho took c * to \trious leading English artists who re 555£ m ' with every kindness, even enthusi ¦•». and they are mostly atfll living and still ¦ friends. Now, this is dwelt upon to show /!!' Vt '" U * ° f the American el»-rn-it M a fixed (sore or legs) harbor of refuge and support, or at lean consolation and advice, abroad. A con u - * all. very well to the stranded sailor or ked gambler, or the promoter of shady -panles that don't adhere to the sympathies the foreign Investor; but the stranded artist a ' ' no sort of advise as to how to "place" 2 Pi«ures either In "shows" or privately. J"* 1 any American raj tapist in his official ca- r * ' Bj B to office, and you have to *SuJ° love each other " a " over again. In *• fci« 0 the fresh stranger, to you. and often * "ties, there are new and weird rules to att!T n>H> *°* old on * 8 to •* unlearned— <«« ¦ things go to depress and harshen ones 4 «- > _* >f U Dot for th f *«* Un S that there was tt rr * Un^ rtn ß e*ii«. on the rpot, easy to <»» * f " r comfort and advice, the stranded *tsr?! eUber end his troubles in tragedy or * ¦""^ a shattered wreck. Bea^JJ*** ray own experiences and otwerva 18 * t^ X Wl£h cc * rt * ln variations. I assume *** birth ° ° th * r artlßU claiming Amerl <*e4 *i la or "prov*naiic*." and who have suc la LovT salaJn X a foothold (more or less solid) prefttj,^ T wlll come now to things of the **& th*** " l would have commenced this paper '°* Present day had I not wished to show I Mtm -Uipcric *$jtfs%Jßs£ . WtB .rate. that this "status" has been continuous from the early years of recognized English art. When the American artist of to-day is taken to the bosom of the Royal Academy, which event la a little "history" that Is constantly "repeating Itself." he has placed before him with much antique formality a long parchment, containing the signatures of all the pant and present mem bers of the tody (placed there ere they received their diplomas). It gives one the feeling of adding another twig or branch to a great ancestral tree. This feeling is further accen tuated when he places his exacted work, which he must send before receiving his second or foil diploma to the permanent gallery contain ing all such offerings. These date from the first establishment of the Royal Academy. The asso ciate member receives a diploma signed by the president, in which he is styled "gentleman." but the Academician's diploma is signed by the Queen, in which he is styled "our trusty and well beloved (so and so) Esquire"— which gives him a right and title to this "status" and many another worthy right and title beyond the mere The nVayaJ Academy, too, as an "institution" in the various senses of the term, has its own "status." in many respects resembling the French Academy, especially in respect to its being about the best abused institution in the country, particularly by those who know the least about it. Whatever they may say, how ever (to quote The words of a leading American journalist). "The Royal Academy is. after all. the Royal Academy, and as such must always be reckoned with."' Of one thfng There is little doubt, and that is. It lends a solid lustre to the American artist whom It enfolds, and consolidates the basis of his London "status" considerably, it may re a surprise at first to him that the exact share and value of his claim to be a true born Ameri can ar~ not wrangled over, and hunted up and down through th- press — ad inflniturn et nau seam—ever the mere duration of his residence here and the number of his pictures shown harped on. Such facts may be merely men tioned, but always in a kindly spirit. The value ar.d quality of his work mill be spoken of first of all as the real good and virtue in him. And, if he happens to have any little extra claim in the way of personal charm, it Is put to his credit, mostly, and not distorted against him. I have observed, by long experience, that the most successful and the moat endowed with rest ful genius, those who have risen to the highest positions here, have shone out strongly In mod est, patient, but determined qualities. Even the "master." during his sincere and searching studies and art practice. Fought perfection, un hindered by his cultivation (gently and amus ingly) of the enemy. And his worst success, in that respect, laughs with him. I fancy, rather than at him There can he no doubt at all that the status of the American artist "residing tem porarily abroad" — vide his ever changeable con sular free (now and then) certificate — has a much better social position in London than in Paris. I doubt very much if they get anything like the substantial encouragement there or even at home that they get in England. For in stance, some few years ago an American artist, fresh to London, wan a?ked the price of his Academy picture which was wanted for the Chantrey Bequest. He came to me for advice, paying that he knew not what to say in reply. "In Paris," he explained, "the very highest price given by the State, for the works selected for the Luxembourg is about £80."' He has be* advised, be said, to ask 1.000 guineas here, but be thought 'he Bid vice was given as a bad Joke. He scarcely believed me when I suggested that he should try 800 guineas. He got it easily, but he felt as if walking in a dream, compared to Paris. And a? another Instance (this is the tale. I give it as report had it), when the Whistler portrait of Carlyle was. after many years of ¦waiting, wanted for the Glasgow Corporation Gallery, the douce "body" waited on the "mas ter" about the price (1,000 guineas). They allowed it was a magnificent picture, but "do you no think. Mr. Whistler, the sum a wee. wee bit excessive?" The master asked blandly. "Didn't you know the price before you came to me?" "Oh", aye — we knew that." said they In chorus. "Very well, then." said he in his most srave tones, '"Let's talk of something else," and as there was nothing else of interest to detain them, they paid It. and a good bargain It was. (• SI non c vero" — It's a pity.) But I am leaving my real object in writing this paper till the last. I am constantly seeing in the American papers very badly Informed comments on this very subject of the "status." duties, perils and rewards < Incidentally') of American artists living mostly In London This I quote from a clipping lately sent m°: Certainly the British, as a people, are much better disposed toward us now than when Whistler and Sargent and Boughton and Abbey had to live down the insular narrowness that saw no good In men and things existing beyond the lovely chalk cliffs of Albion. Now. bo far as my own experience of "living down" any neglect or suffering goes. I. for one, can frankiv and sincerely affirm that my own and only anxiety from the first was to try to "live up to" the excellent "status" that was whelmed upon me from the first. And if I have rightly heard and seen the praises and the sub stantial awards given from the very first to my confreres in this paragraph. I am bound to Bay that I never looked upon them as the vic tim* of either neglect or adversity. Indeed. very much au contralre. I can well remember Whistler's first Academy picture, the beautiful "Girl at the Piano." which thirty years ago was hung on the line, and bought by an Acade mician. I remember many of his works finding homes In some of the most refined collections in London, years before they were known or bought in any town in America. And this state of London appreciation was going on when Paris was hanging his superb "Woman in White" in the "Gallery of the Refused" as worthy only of derision. Sargent and Abbey can both afford to smile at any living down" they hay.- ex perienced. At the Royal Academy banquet last year the Prir.ee of Wales in his speech referred la words of highest praise to the "work of that great genius Sargent" without even the prefix of "Mr." (which takes him to a pedestal among the immortals). The only hardship I can dis cover in such a position Is to live up to it and keep one's feet firmly placed and ones head quite level, and that Is being done in the cases in point. There are several other American artists en gaged In this sort of "living" (with some *'ups" as well as "downs") here. And If the curious in raeh mutters wttl look on the last page of tr.<-> "THE EDICT HE WILLIAM THE TESTY." FVim the painting hy George H. Roughton. R A September number of "The Magazine of Art." 1900, they will see in an article on the laj«t •';••• - tion for a Member of the Royal Academy thai there were three prominent candidate* out cf some 151) who were in the last sifting — two Americana and one Scotsman. The 800 l got it just by eight votes. [The Melton Fisher's name given is a mistake for Mark Fisher, of Boston). The two Americans had bo trouble to ' liv<« down any spite or jealousy of the unsuccess ful, who were only amused, and merely re marked. "Hou- funny!" -- — . . - — Anoth«r late American paper. In speaking of certain revelation* of the k!r.ir-»ss Of MlUal* to other artists, remarks on th» evident ab sence of jealousy among men of his position, or ptatus As if that v*-ry absence were not the very seal and sign of great minded men' There came nor long since another small clipping which, as lago said, "touches me nearly " Some lecturer on art and artists, somewhere in rural New-England, if I remember, did me the honor to import my name Into his discourse — by way of warning, probably and Informed his hearers ": for no earthly >awn that I can fltv ing here) make out. One's exact claim to some r-sry shadowy or fractional degree of nationalltv is never (or seldom* discussed over here. If at all. it Is a shade better to be an American. Y<"u are a nice sort of pet "cousin" when in favor, and nothing wir^e than a "blessed Yankee" when you are "off color" for the mo ment. No. the best thing for an artist Is to do his l«»vel best to Improve his wort; and let the shades of nationality and even ancestry and everything he AM not win himself off his own bat fake any remote half light to repose itself in as unobtrusively as ponHible: but If his exact nationality is demanded of him. al most at the revolver's muzzle, why not let any f-invenlent hyphen bind the tie together. l"* e rnto Anglo-American. Irish -American, or ev^n the Yankee- Dutch, as they are fondly called in the Catskills and other regions. I remember an American woman artist, who, after some years of successful exile In London, announced to her friends her Intention to re turn home again very soon. "Not for good" some one hoped. "Oh, dear, no," she replied cheerfully, "only to get cured again of home sickness 1 " She went every few years for the purpose. It seemed. UEOROE H. BOUGHTON. /V THE FLOWER STATE. From The Kansas City Time* Most of the women politicians of, the Sunflower State have only "dried up" temporarily through sympathy with the late drouth. They will begin to spout attain with autumnal rains. HELD UP BY PILOTS. MONTREAL COMMERCE AT THE MERCY OF A CLOSE CORPORATION OF FIFTY FIVE RIVER POLITICIANS. Montreal. Aug. 24 (Special).— "l have fol lowed all inquiries Into accidents from 1896 to Uu present time and I find that in nearly every case the pilot was responsible." This is from a speech delivered by the Hon. J. Israel Tarte. Minister of Public Works, in the House of Com mons, and refer? directly to the grounding of the steamship Tlverton. which went ashore in the St. Lawrence, between Quebec and Montreal, in the early part of May. The system of pilotage in force between this city and Quebec contributes, according to all authorities, more to the discomfiture of the shipping interests of Canada than any other distributing element in the trade. Time and again men afterward proven Incompetent have run fln» ships aground. Just as the pilot of the Tiverton did. and owners and agents have clamored for radical changes in a system which permitted these things. But still the old order is allowed to remain, owing to the political is sues involved. The Shipping Interest of Montreal, an or ganization of representatives of all lines doing business between here and European ports, has struggled long and ardently wrrked against the lawa governing the present pilotage system. So far. however. It has only succeeded la having a few trivial alteritLons mad* In the bylaws.- »nd the act under which the pilots operate remains as of old. If one laid imagine for a moment the In habitant? of a village on Long Island Sound, of nay five hundred people, dictating to the ship ping trade of the rity of New-York as to how Irs foreign commerce should b*" conducted, some Idea might be gained of the position of affairs in Montreal to-day. The pilotage ¦vs of this port have been conceived at the dictation and In the interests of r».*hambaul . a village on the north bank of the St. Lawrence, between this city and Quebec. Only a village, it Is true. •:• it is there that most of the pilots live, and their Influence, ptra-. a» it may seem, has been such that succeeding Parliaments have for many years ignored the question. Rome idea of the powers of this little band of French-Canadians for they number at pres THE SWEDISH SCHOOLHOUSE IN CENTRAL PARK. Which has been fitted up as a library of nature books. ent only fifty-five — may be gained from the fact that the shipping men. the Montreal Board of Trade, the Montreal Corn Exchange and the Marine Underwriters' Association have all petitioned the Ottawa government to abolish the system as applied between Quebec and Mon treal, but still It stands, and all seem, unable to cope with It. In the summer of ISOS the pilots resolved that they would become an incorporate body and applied for a charter. The men of Mont real making up the various trade organiza tions already mentioned opposed bitterly the granting of the charter by the federal govern ment, and as a protest against this opposition the pilots went on strike. For the apace of two weeks the whole port was tied up. the only ships going out being the passenger vessels, and they were piloted up and down by the staff of the engineer's office. The pilots, however, were eventually obliged to give In on the threat of having their licenses cancelled, and the owners and agents of the steamships gained their only victory on record. The system by which the pilots control the business had its inception in IS3O. and while now and again the rules and bylaws have been tinkered with the powers of the pilots' organi sation remain Intact. As already stated, there are fifty-five pilots only commissioned to do business between Montreal and Quebec. Of, this number fully forty live in this little tov/n of Deschambault. the remaining fifteen being dis tributed In other small towns between Montreal and Quebec. The entire list Is a tangle of . brothers. cousln3. brothers-in-law, fathers and sons. There are six Perraults, five Belllalea, five Arcands. and so on through the lot. With the exception of the Franco-Canadian Line there Is scarcely a ton of shipping afloat in the St. Lawrence not owned by Anglo-Saxons, and still under the existing state of affairs it would be utterly impossible for an Englishman or an Eng lish-Canadian to qualify as a pilot. This is easily explained when the Pilotage act is gone into carefully The act and the present bylaws make it necessary that an apprentice pilot shall serve five years or the river, the last two years under indenture to a licensed pilot, and even then he must make fifteen trips between Montreal aid Quebec under differ ent pilots before he can obtain his license. This is the family compact, conceived in the early history of St Lawrence naviga- j tion, and jealously maintained until now. It effectually prevents a pilot's certificate being given to the mastor or mate of any vessel visit ing the port, no matter how competent he may be. In the service of the different lines are masters and mates having years of experience In navi gating the St. Lawrence; men who have grown gray In the service and who could without ques tion pass any examination required of the pres ent pilots. To these men the owners would gladly Intrust their vessels, because they know the river thoroughly : and. what is more impor tant, because they have a thorough knowledge of the peculiarities of their own ships. Ship owners and agents have time and again ex pressed the wish to pay the regular pilotage fee for navigating the vessel, and then place their own men on the bridge, allowing the pilot to stay at home. However, it is not the regular liner that gets the worst nd of the pilotage bargain. Doing the best they can under the present circum stances, the different lines running regularly to this port engage each year a sufficient number of pilots for service on their several vessels, and In this manner some forty- of the total are picked up. leaving the nimatning ten for service on tramps and other vessels not making the port regularly. Years of experience have shown the steamship people the fallings and capabili ties of the different pilots. They naturally pick up the most capable, and to the lot of the tramp — with its officers and crew sometimes utterly inexperienced in St. Lawrence navigation — fall? the remainder. Thus a man who for one reason or another is not judged to be a first class pilot Is forced upon a ship which is utterly strange to him and he is asked to bring her up through 160 miles of Intricate waterway. The incompetence of some of the men who. under the present system, t.ike charge of prop erty worth perhaps a million dollars ts shown in the case of the Tiverton. This pilot in send ing his resignation to the Harbor Board con fessed having lost his head, and in broad day light mistaking a red buoy for a black one. In Justice to the man It might be mentioned that a year ago he asked to be placed on the pension list. But here again the monopoly of the pilots worked to the injury of commerce, for they re fused to grant the pension on the ground that the applicant was not past the active age. He may have been color blind or other* incom petent, but as his pension would nave to be taken from the pilots" fund they refused to con elder his application. The rule of th-=" Harbor Commissioners over the pilots Is merely nominal. They can practi cally do nothing without having the Pilotage act repealed by the Ottawa government. A striking example of this is given in the report of the Harbor Commissioners tr. reference to the strike in the summer of I^9*. The report says: "Had it been In the power of the commissioners to examine and license competent men. the num ber of whom la with good reason believed to be very large, it is more than likely that the strike would not have occurred." The repealing of the Pilotage act. so far as concerns the St. Lawrence between Montreal and Quebec, no government. Conservative or Liberal, has ever dared attempt. These pilots are above all things active politicians nd the loss of one. two or perhaps three constituent 3 ha» deterred both parties from ever grappling with the question. In the mean time amerce to the value of $120.00(X000 annually and ships to the value of many more millions are placed in jeopardy, so that the feelings of fifty-five French-Canadian river men may not be Injured. "Free trade In pilots" is what St. Lawrence Interests, through the shipping men and the merchants, demand. It is a recognized principle among them that In order successfully to com feat -the. present, v lgh. marine Insurance rates radical reforms are necessary. They fully recog nize the desirability of having a body of trained pilots, and many Individual pilots are highly thon?ht of by the shipping men: but .it the same time the present close corporation stem con tributes largely, in their opinion, toward the insecurity of the route, and its abolition ii looked upon as absolutely necessary. SMELLS [X THIRTY FOTRTHfT. PART OF THAT THOROUGHFARE FILLED WITH NOXIOUS GASES FROM TORN IT SEWERS. Conductors whose cars run across town from the Thlrty-fourfh-s?. Merry are recoming experts .-. treating fainting women. The trouble is due to sewer construction work which ts unaer way in that street. Several old sewers and leaking cas mains have been opened. The odor is almost in sufferable. In a crowded closed car one hot afternoon last week almost every passenger was thrown into vio lent nts of coughing. Suddenly one woman, who had been hanging to a strap, let go her hold and fell on the floor. The conductor stopped the car with a Jerk at the bell and rushed on* after water. Before he could find any and get back to the car th» woman had partially recovered. She was helped into .1 neigh boring drug store, and the car went on. "She's the third one to-day." aaid Che conductor. "I'm going to ask for a transfer to some other line If they don't get those sewers closed up pretty soon." . "You can't make schedule time If you have to stop every trip until a fainting woman recovers." growled the motorman. He was used to the gas fumes and they no longer troubled him. Then the bell rang when the car was In the mid dle of the block. "There goes another one." he said as he stopped the car. It was only a fat woman, who thought she was going . to faint, and who decided to leave the car as a precautionary measure. "It is a shame to run cars that smell as bad as this one does." she said to the conductor as he helped her down. "I'll report it to the Board of Health." Then she got a full breath of the outside air and nearly fell into the conductor's arms. - ¦Why, It Isn't the car after all." she said aa she got on again. She held her breath until the car reached the hill at Park-aye. The streetcar men are wondering how the people who live In the torn up part of the street manage to stand it. SUNDAY, AUG. 25, 1901. THE EASTFRX SHORE. ALL. THE REST OF THE UNITED STATES. WESTERN MARYLAND INCLUDED. IS A FOREIGN LAND TO THE NATIVES. •The Lord rested on the seventh day. and on th* eighth He made the Eastern Sho'." The visitor to this belated country remarks at once that no ana Is in a hurry there save himself. The land that was a day late in creation has been content to stay a day late. And when the outsider haa be come reconciled to accommodation trains that stop at every woodpile, and no trolley cars at all. h« may settle down to the quiet resignation of ono sojourner in the metropolis of the district who con tentedly wrote home, "In the midat of life I ami In Easton." Scratch an Eastern Shore- man and h« bleeds blue. The people of the eastern counties are more conservative, more aristocratic, more Southern than those of Western Maryland. Their slaves are gone and their lands are diminished, but they still live in their ample country houses after the free and bountiful manner of the O!d South. "The Eastern Shore is famous for Its pretty girls," said on- of the prettiest of them to a North ern man whom she had Just met. and he never had cause to doubt the justice of her frank asser tion. The foreigner on the Eastern Sho 1 -and even pro gressive Western Maryland is a foreign, land— can always be certain of a hospitable welcome. East of the Chesapeake, "noblesse oblige." A Harvard graduate, born in Wisconsin, had honor done hls> Alma Mater when a prominent politician of the up per counties said to him. "Oh. yes. HVvard. raj distinctly fo' that place." His native State, how. ever, fared not so Wei For partner at a german he had a delicately featured girl who might have sat for Copley had she lived a century ago. "I thought you were from the North." she said. "I'm from Wisconsin," protested her partner. "I mean the far North— New-York or Massachu setts." Sometimes innate cordiality makes the Eastern Shore man tolerant of outsiders whom, were they natives, he would avoid. In regard to a family of recent settlers from Ohio, who were at no pains to conceal their wealth, or.c woman remarked, in confidence: "After all. the Smiths are plain people. When I called on them Mrs. Smith said she'd show me the rooms upstairs, only they weren't *red up.' " The county families, of course, draw the H def initely at "plain people." One man el such origin had made his way into society, but o? his two brothers more praise was given to the one that was true to his own kind than to the one that strove to follow the brother that, had "arrived." Alorg with this strain of social prejudice goes a conservative respect for rank. The venerable Bishop of the diocese, who is very fond ot children, one day kissed the little daughter of one of his neighbors as she was playing on the sidewalk. With something very like precocious coquetry the child ran in tears to her mother. ••I.or". child."' exclaimed that person, emphati cally. "Go 'long an' stop your crying. You ought to be proud to say a bishop kissed you." It i 3 the good fortune of the stranger that he 13 accepted on hi 3 own merits, quite apart from" t?J9 social prejudices of the community, where upper counties scorn lower counties, old families look down on "plain people," Episcopalians hold them selves above Methodists, but where pursepride ia unknown. The chances are that, though on arrival he may think he is in the valley of the 3hadow, be fore many days are past the cordial people ar.d their frank, out of doors habit have won him jt"ep. though sober, colorlns lasts wen on to December. LIBRARY l\ CEyTRAL PARK. STrt>KNTS OF NATURE Wnj BENEFIT FROM NEW nj OF SWEDISH SCHOOLHOfSS. A new attraction at Cemn! Park is the read!-:— room just established for those interested in nature studies, which was mentioned in The Tri>ur;o en Wednesday. It i? in the building known as the Swedish sc'rmolhouse. or cottag?. en the We?t Drive, near that part of the park known as tha Rambles. Considerable interest attaches to th!s buiM!:v». which win crtgina!!y erected by the Swedish Gov ernment at the Centennial Exposition. t n i^s. At the close of the exposition it was tfven to this city and removed to Central Park, where it has stoo.j ever since. It has been used for various purposes, but chiefly as a shelter for cyclists. A short time ago Park Commissioner George C. Clausen cjecifled that the needs of cyclists no long? demanded the whole of the building, and. as th» neighberhoo.l Is eTceedlnKly p!cti:re«fjT:<» and raueyi frequented by students of nature, he determined to establish a library on botany, bud life and kindred subjects in the quaint cottasre. Accordingly Mr. 111 1 .<•••> wrote to the publishers of books rerjuest'.n? their co-operation. Tha re sponses were so favorable that las: week the reaii tnjr room was opened to the public with a compre-. henslve library of books foi their use. which will be available each day from 10 a. m. to H p. m. The library itself i* unique', beirjj In the picturesque Swedish style of architecture. In appearance it reminds one somewhat o? the Swed ish Building at the World's Fair of Chicago, al though it is much smaller. The structure is on« story tn hetcht. with an attic, and includes a larg* and well arranged reading room, a woman's toiiec room and a kitchen, with a large, old. fashioned! fireplace. The books, which number about two hundred, afford a comprehensive study of botany, bird life. landscape gardening, entomology and natural his tory. The general surroundings are among th« most attractive of the park, the Rambles, Cave and Lovers' Lane being near by. CRIPPLED CHILDREN EyTERTAIXED. Belmar. X J. Aug. -4 (Special).— The proprietors of the Hotel Columbia, at this place, gave the in mates of the Home for Crippled Children. whos« seaside house is at Avon-by-the-Sea. an entertain ment on Tuesday. in accordance with a long estab lished custom. A dinner was served to the little ones in the dining hall of the hotel, after which they went to the large music room, where they were amused by children's games. In the evening a concert was given for the benetlt of the home at which »00 was realized. On the last Saturday of August there will be a series of aquatic sport* on the ocean In front of the hotel, followed by a full dress ball In the evening. On this occasion an or chestra of twenty pieces will supply the music and there will be supper provided cy the hotel to wum up the entertainment. AT THE SAGAMORE. Sagamore Hotel. X. T.. Aug. •* (Special).— Th» Sagamore regatta is taking up the entire at tention of the guests and those coining: in the neighborhood and every one Interested la sports. All those entering the races are practising on the lake, whose still waters at this time render such, exercise a pleasure. It Is a pretty sight to sea singles and doubles vying with each other In their eagerness to cover the course in the shortest time possible. Camp Everett has seen its first celebration In th« birthday party to Master Alfred Ingold. arranged by Mrs. W. F. Infold. An elaborate luncheon was prepared at the camp In Adirondack fashion. The children were amused In manifold ways and en- Joyed the entertainment to the full. Golf is now taking the lead over other sports, and upon the extensive golf links of the Sagamore many parties may be seen dally. ' The recent arrivals include G. F Lan-'enbae l *<»- A. F. Troescher. James I. M3tchett. Mr^ndjEl' W. T. Mason. Dr. F. L. atvmoaka. D. QBmS and Harper Stlliman. of New- York, and the Mk£s? Dotter and George Kenyon, of Brooklyn.