Newspaper Page Text
TWO WOOD ENGRAVERS LEFT
Their Art Was Swamped by Photo-Me
chanical Process, but May
The possibility of a revival of the
art of wood engraving is an ever-recur
ring subject of discussion. It will be
found to lie in painter-engraving, that
Is original effort, rather than In the
reproductive art in which so consum
mate an achievement was attained in
In the last quarter of the nineteenth
century the United States .witnessed a
development of reproductive wood en
graving carried to what was apparent
ly the limit of its possibilities in the
suggestion of tones and textures. The
glorious period of success was as re
markable in it*, products as It was
ehort in duration. The photo-mechani
cal process, particularly the now übi
quitous half-tone, swept all before
them, and only two noteworthy mem
bers of the group of men who made
American wood engraving famous —
Cole and Wolf—are today still regu
larly practicing the art.
The decay o fwood engraving has
been deplored in print and speech
not a few times, and not infrequently
In apparent forgetfulness of the fact
that not only will necessity insure the
survival of that which fits its case,
but in this case the revival is already
with us. But the art has arisen In a
new form, or rather there is a renais
sance of an old form. It is an open
question whether there will ever again
be a general use of wood engraving
for the purpose of reproducing paint-
Ings or drawings or photographs. But
there is no doubt that an increasing
number of artists have been turning
to the wood block, as they have to
etching or lithography, as a means of
original, direct expression. Painter
wood-engraving is coming to its
In this country, the desire for orig
inal work first took the form of en
graving direct from nature by some of
the men who had helped to bring re
productive wood engraving to its high
state of development. Elbridge Kings
ley, W. B. Closson, the late Victor
Bernstrom, Henry Wolf and Frank
French, long known as discerning in
terpreters of the designs and paintings
of others, felt the impulse of original
creation and brought to its service
their long training and artistic tem
perament. — Weitenkampf in Scrib
I FOR SORE SHOULDERS.
I J*»- Beck & Son, Centerfold, Utah, write*:
H "We sell Mexican MustatigLiniment and
B have a good sale for it, especially in thresh
■ ing time for horses' sore shoulders."
H _ It contains no alcohol and so cannot sting
■in cases of open wounds. Soothes and
■ relieves strained ligaments at once. ,
| 25c. 50c. $ 1 • bottle at Drug & Gen'l St sees
Learn to Swim.
Of the thirty-third victim of drown
ing In the waters near St. Louis this
•eason his mother said: "He was a
'Wonderful athlete. He could do any
thing except swim, and I'm sure I
<d6n't know why he never learned." It
Is evident that this mother was not
averse to her son's learning to swim.
TJnfortunatelly many women are op
posed to boys acquiring this useful
art, fearing accidents while learning.
This is unwise.
If one travels at all, it impossible
to avoid the water. With two-thirds
of the earth's surface covered by wa
ter the chances are numerous that Ig
norance of swimming may be fatal.
Swimming is one of the most health
ful and enjoyable of exercises, with
advantages of still greater importance.
The drowning of good swimmers is
exceptional, while the loss of life of
those who cannot swim and get into
deep water is the rule. Swimming
should be taught in all the schools,
and those who have not acquired the
art as children should learn it at
once.—St. Louis Post-Dispatch.
I Bishop Was Ready for Them.
A story is told of a certain ■■ Norman
bishop, | who preached so I eloquently'
against the wearing of long hair before!
Henry I. and his courtiers; that they'
gave in on the spot and agreed to!
nave their locks shorn. No :• sooner I
had they made their decision than the
wise prelate, who had provided f«r|
Just such a contingency, pulled out a
pair of shears from his sleeve and'
soon removed the curls of the whole
court.., ■ - ■'■■•',. - "-'-■'-..,■" '-;•"■•-:, _-. : - :■;■■■
Mothers will find Mrs. Window's Soothinc
Byrup the best remedy to use for their childrtj
during t\e teething period. viiuwj
r 1 Benny on the Carp.
The German carp -is a creature
shaped so as to; resemble a fish. vlt
can swim in any | kind of water, and
baa one eye on each side of; Its head.
Its food | consists of small black bass
and three cornered pieces of boiled
potato. You catch a carp by throwing
a stone In the water to attract its
attention and then letting down a hook
baited ; with a nice piece of garbage.
There are people In St. Joe who will
pay ten or fifteen cents for a s big, fat
xarp^but^as for me I would rather
bare a Welsh rabbit or a pound of
angel cake.—"Benny," in the Chicago
..•.■"■v^:-.':."-/^.", - ■: ,./ .'■-:- ..... '.],. ""^';;v.:i:.: ■ ■.
Sure. Enough. .
The teacher had been telling the
class about the rhinoceros ';l family.
"Now, name some things," said she,
"that are very dangerous to get near
; to, and that have horns." "Automo
biles!" replied little Jenni* Jones,
promptly.—"Unidentified. • I %!&% |
Howard Jeffries, banker's son, under
the evil iniluence of Robert Underwood,
a fellow-student at Yale, leads a life of
dissipation, marries the daughter of a
gambler who tiled in prison, and is dis
owned by his father. He tries to get work
and fails. A former college chum makes
a business proposition to Howard which
requires $2,000 cash, and Howard is broke.
Robert Underwood, who had been re
pulsed by Howard's wife. Annie, in his
college days, and had once been engaged
to Alicia, Howard's stepmother, has
apartments at the Astruria, and is ap
parently in prosperous circumstances.
Howard recalls a $250 loan to Underwood,
that remains unpaid, and decides to ask
him for the $2,000 he needs. Underwood,
taking advantage of his intimacy with
Mrs. Jeffries, Sr., bpcomes a sort of social
highwayman. Discovering his true char
acter she denies him the house. Alicia
receives a note from Underwood, threat-,
ening suicide. She decides to go and see
him. He is in desperate financial straits.
Art dealers for whom he has been acting
as commissioner, demand an accounting.
He cannot make good. Howard Jeffries
calls in an intoxicated condition. He asks
TJnderwood for J2.C00.
He helped himself to another drink,
his hand shaking so that he could
hardly hold the decanter. He was
fast approaching the state of complete
intoxication. Underwood made no at
tempt to interfere. Why should he
care if the young fcol made a sot of
himself? The sooner he drank him
self insensible the quicker he would
get rid of him.
"No, Howard," he said; "you'd never
make a decent member of society."
"Praps not," hiccoughed Howard.
"How does Annie take her social
ostracism?" inquired Underwood.
"Like a brick. She's a thorough
bred, all right. She's all to the good."
"All the same, I'm sorry I ever in
troduced you to her," replied Under
wood. "1 never thought you'd make
such a fool of yourself as to marry—"
Howard shook his head in a maud
lin manner, as he replied:
"1 don't know whether I made a
fool of myself or not, but she's all
right She's got in her the makings
of a great woman —very crude, but
still the makings. The only thing 1
object to is, she insists on going back
to work. Just as if I'd permit such a
thing. Do you know what I said on
our wedding day? 'Mrs. Howard Jeff
ries, you are entering one of the old
est families in America. Nature has
fitted you for social leadership. You'll
be a petted, pampered member of that
select few called the "400,"' and now,
damn it all, how can I ask her to go
back to work? But if you'll let me
have that $2,000 —"
By this time Howard was beginning
to get drowsy. Lying back on the
sofa, he proceeded to make himself
"Two thousand dollars!" laughed
Underwood. "Why. man, I'm in debt
up to my eyes."
As far as his condition enabled him,
Howard gave a start of surprise.
"Hard up!" he exclaimed. Pointing
around the room, he said: "What's
all this—a bluff?"
"A bluff, that's it. Not a picture,
not a vase, not a stick belongs to
me. You'll have to go to your fa
I "Never," said Howard despondently.
The suggestion was evidently too
much for him, because he stretched
out his hand for his whisky glass. "Fa
ther's done with me," he said dole
j "He'll relent," suggested Under
I Howard shook his head drowsily.
Touching bis brow, he said:
"Too much brains, too much up
here." Placing his hand on his heart,
he went on: "Too little down here.
Once he gets an idea, he never lets it
1 go, he holds on. Obstinate. One
1 idea—stick to it. Gee, but I've made
' a mess of things, haven't I?"
I Underwood looked at him with con
I "You've made a mess of your life,"
he said bitterly, "yet you've had some
' measure of happiness. You, at least,
' married the woman you love. Drunk
en beast as you are, 1 envy you. The
woman 1 wanted married some one
else, damn her!"
Howard was so drowsy from the
effects of the whisky that he was al
most asleep. As be lay back on the
. sofa, he gurgled:
| "Say, old man; I didn't come here
to listen to hard-luck stories. 1 came
' to tell one."
in maudlin fashion he began to sing,
"Oh, listen to. my tale of woe," while
Underwood sat g'.aring at him, won
• dering how he could put him out.
| As he reached the last verse his
head began to nod The words came
j thickly from his lips and he sank
sleepily back among the soft divan
| Just at that moment the telephone
I bell rang. Underwood quickly picked
up the receiver.
"Who's that?" he asked. As he
heard the answer his face lit up and
he replied eagerly: "Mrs. Jeffries —
1 yes. I'll come down. No. tell her to
I Hanging up the receiver, he hastily
went over to the divan and shook
r m S _" ■.'. ■ i
KLEIN V w
C^ ARTHUR^HORNDi^K^ T W
ARTHUR HORNKDOW V
ILLUSTBATIONS BY RAT "WU,TERS
cornocNT. 1909. «r cw. dillincham cot«my - , . - ...,:..
Sank Sleepily Back Among the Soft Divan Pillows.
"Howard, wake up! confound you!
You've got to get out —there's some
He shook him roughly, but his old
classmate made no attempt to move.
"Quick, do you hear!" exclaimed
Underwood impatiently. "Wake up—
some one's coming."
Howard sleepily half opened his
eyes. He had forgotten entirely
where he was and believed he was
on the train, for he answered:
"Sure, I'm sleepy. Say—porter,
make up my bed."
His patience exhausted, Underwood
was about to pull him from the sofa
by force, when there was a ring at
the front door.
Bending quickly over his compan
ion, Underwook saw that he was fast
asleep. There was no time to awaken
him and get him out of the way, so,
quickly, he took a big screen and ar
ranged It around the divan so that
Howard could not be seen. Then he
hurried' to the front door and
For a few moments Underwood was
too much overcome by emotion to
speak. Alicia brushed by in haughty
silence, not deigning to look at him.
All he heard was the soft rustle of
her clinging silk gown as it swept
along the floor. She was incensed
with him, of course, but she had
come. That was all he asked. She
had come in time, to save him. He
would talk to her and explain every
thing and she would understand.
She would help him in this crisis as
she had in the past Their long
friendship, all these years of intimacy,
could not end like this. There was
still hope for him. The situation was
not as desperate as he feared. He
might yet avert the shameful end of
the suicide. Advancing toward her,
he said in a hoarse whisper:
"Oh, this is good of you, 'you've
come —this is the answer to my let
Alicia ignored his extended hand
and took a seat Then, turning on
him, she exclaimed Indignantly:
"The answer should be a horse
whip. How dare you send me such
a message?" Drawing from her bag
the letter received from him that
evening, she demanded:
"What do you expect to gain by
"Don't be angry, Alicia."
Underwood spoke soothingly, trying
to conciliate her. Well he knew the
seductive power of his voice. Often
he had used it and not in vain, but
to-night it fell on cold. Indifferent
"Don't call me by that name," she
Underwood made no answer. He
turned slightly paler and, folding bis
arms, just looked at her, in silence.
There was an awkward pause.
At last she said:
"I hope you understand that every
thing's over between us. Our ac
quaintance is at an end."
"My feelings toward you can never
change," replied Underwood earnest*
ly. "I lore you—l shall always love
Alicia gave a little shrug of her
shoulders, expressive of utter Indiffer
"Lor*!" she exclaimed mockingly.
"You love no one but yourself."
Underwood advanced nearer to her
and there was a tremor in his voice
as he said:
"You have no right to say that You
remember what we once were. Whose
fault is it that I am where I am to
day? When you broke our engage
ment and married old Jeffries to grati
fy your social ambition, you ruined my
life. You didn't destroy my love—you
couldn't kill that You may forbid me
everything—to see you—to speak to
you—even to think of you, but I can
never forget that you are the only
woman I ever cared for. If you had
married me, I might have been a dif
ferent man. And now, just when I
want you most, you deny me even your
friendship. What have I done to de
serve such treatment? Is It fair? Is
Alicia had listened with growing Im
patience. It was only with difficulty
that she contained herself. Now she
interrupted him hotly:
"I broke my engagement with you
because I found that you were deceiv
ing me —just as you deceived others."
"It's a He!" broke in Underwood. "I
may have trifled with others, but I
never deceived you."
Alicia rose and, crossing the room,
carelessly inspected one of the pic
tures on the wall, a study of the nude
"We need not go into that," she said
haughtily. "That is all over now. I
came to ask you what this letter—this
threat —means. What do you expect
to gain by taking your life unless I
continue to be your friend? How can
Ibe a friend to a man like you? You
know what your friendship for a wom
an means. It means that you would
drag her down to your own level and
disgrace her as well as yourself.
Thank God, my eyes are now opened
to your true character. No self-re
specting woman could afford to allow
her name to be associated with yours.
You are as incapable of disinterested
friendship as you are of common hon
esty." Coldly she added: "I hope you
quite understand that henceforth my
house is closed to you. If we happen
to meet in public, it must be as stran
Underwood did not speak. Words
seemed to fail him. His face was set
and white. A nervous twitching about
the mouth showed the terrible mental
strain which the man was under. In
the excitement he had forgotten about
Howard's presence on the divan be
hind the screen. A listener might have
detected the heavy breathing of the
sleeper, but even Alicia herself was
too preoccupied to notice it Under
wood extended his arms pleadingly:
"Alicia—for the sake of auld lang
"Auld lang syne," she retorted. 1
want to forget the past The old mem
ories are distasteful. My only object
in coming here to-night was to make
the situation plain to you and to ask
you to promise me not to—carry out
your threat to kill yourself. Why
should you kill yourself? Only cowards
do that Because you are in trouble?
That is the coward's way out Leave
New York. Go where you are not
known. You are still young. Begin
life over again, .somewhere else." Ad
vancing toward him, *he went on:
If you will do this I will help you.
I never want to see you again, hot HI
ixj not to think of you unkindly. Bat
you must promise me solemnly not to
make any attempt against your life."
"I promise nothing," muttered Un
"But you must," she Insisted. "It
would be a terrible crime, not only
against yourself, but against others.
You must give me your word."
Underwood shook his head.
"I promise nothing."
"But you must," persisted Alicia. "I
won't stir from here until I have your
He looked at her curiously.
"If my, life has no interest for you,
why should you care?" he asked.
There was a note of scorn in his
voice which aroused his visitor's
wrath. Crumpling up his letter in her
hand, she confronted him angrily.
"Shall I tell you why I care?" she
cried. "Because you accuse me in this
letter of being the cause of your death
—I, who have been your friend in
spite of your dishonesty. Oh! it's des-'
picable, contemptible! Above all, it's
Underwood shrugged his shoulders.
Cynically he replied:
"So it wasn't so much concern for
me as for yourself that brought you
Alicia's eyes flashed as she an
"Yes, I wished to spare myself this
indignity, the shame of being asso
ciated In any way with a suicide. I
was afraid you meant what you said."
"Afraid," interrupted Underwood
bitterly, "that some of the scandal
might reach as far as the aristocratic
Mrs. Howard Jeffries, Sr.!"
Her face flushed with anger, Alicia
paced up -and down the room. The
man's taunts stung her to the quick.
In a way, she felt that he was right
She ought to have guessed his charac
ter long ago and had nothing to do
with him. He seemed desperate
enough to do anything, yet she doubt
ed if he had the courage to kill him
self. She thought she would try more
conciliatory methods, so, stopping
short, she said more gently:
"You know my husband has suffered
through the wretched marriage of his
only son. You know how deeply we
both feel this disgrace, and yet you
Underwood laughed mockingly. j
"Why should I consider your hus- ■
band's feelings?" he cried. "He didn't
consider mine when he married you."
Suddenly bending forward, every
nerve tense, he continued hoarsely:
"Alicia, I tell you I'm desperate. I'm
hemmed in on ajl sides by creditors.
You know what your friendship—your
patronage means? If you drop me
now, your friends will follow—they're
a lot of sheep led by you—and when
my creditors hear of me they'll be
down on me like a flock of wolves.
I'm not able to make a settlement
Prison stares me in the face."
Glancing around at the handsome
furnishings, Alicia replied carelessly:
"I'm not responsible for your wrong
doing. I want to protect my friends.
If they are a lot of sheep, as you say,
that is precisely why I should warn
them. They have implicit confidence
in me. You have borrowed their mon
ey, cheated them at cards, stolen from
them. Your acquaintance with me has
given them the opportunity. But now
I've found you out. I refuse any long
er to sacrifice my friends, my self-re
spect, my sense of decency." Angrily
she continued: "You thought you could
bluff me. You've adopted this cow
ard's way of forcing me to receive
you against my will. Well, you've
failed. I will not sanction your rob
bing my friends. I will not allow.you
to sell them any more of your high
priced rubbish, or permit you to cheat
them at cards."
Underwood listened in silence. He
stood motionless, watching her flushed
face as she heaped reproaches on him.
She was practically pronouncing his
death sentence, yet he could not help
thinking how pretty she looked. When
she had finished he said nothing, but,
going to his desk, he opened a smalJ
drawer and took out a revolver.
Alicia recoiled, frightened. ,
"What are you going to do?" she
Underwood smiled bitterly.
"Oh, don't be afraid. I wouldn't do
it while you are here. In spite of all
you've said to me, I still think too
much of you for that" Replacing the
pistol in the drawer, he added: "Alicia,
if you desert me now, you'll be sorry
to the day of your death."
His visitor looked at him In silence.
Then, contemptuously, she said:
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
"There is a certain sameness about
natural scenery," said the man who
"Do you mean to compare a nag*
niflcent mountain with the broad ex
panse of the sea?"
"Tea. Wherever yon find a. spot of
exceptional beauty somebody la sure
to decorate it with sardine tint and
biscuit bcxea,"—Washington. Star.
HOME-MADE YANKEE BOBSLED
r-' 'Hx'C ' ■■-
Excellent Coasting Sled May Be P.*
Together by Handy Young, "
—Easy to Guide.
A good coasting sled, which I call
Yankee bob, can be made from two
! hardwood barrel staves, two pieces of
12 by 6-inch pine, a piece of hardwood
I for the ; rudder and a \ few pieces O f
boards, writes William Algie j r J
Little Falls. N. V., in Popular Median
ics. The 2by 6-inch pieces should be
a little longer than one-third the
length of the staves, .and each piece
cut tapering from the widest part «
inches, down to 2 inches, and then
fastened to the staves with large wood
screws as shown in Pig. i. Boards
1 Inch thick are nailed on top or the
pieces for a seat to hold the runners
together. The boards should be oi
such a length as to make the runners
about eighteen - inches apart.
A 2-inch shaft of wood, Pig. 2 is
turned down to 1 inch on the ends and
put through holes that must be bored
in the front ends of the 2 by 6 inch
pieces. A small pin is put through
each end of the shaft to keep it in
place. The rudder Is a l^-inch hard
wood piece which should be tapered
to one-half inch at the bottom and
Runners Made of Barrel Staves.
shod with a thin piece of iron. A
half-inch hole Is bored through the
center of the shaft and a lag screw
put through and turned in the rudder
piece, making it so the rudder will
turn right and left and, also, up and
down. Two cleats are nailed to the
upper sides of the runners and in the
middle lengthways for the person's
heels to rest against.
Any child can guide this bob, as all
he has to do is to guide the rudder
right and left to go In the direction
named. If he wants to stop, be pulls
nip on the handle and the heel of the
rudder will dig into the snow, causing
too much friction for the sled to go
ncer for J4#so
to. 1 :;■;,. &;\
I Bargain &JT HP
Day V| /)
i Price yj.iyj
OFFER No. 3
; Regular ' B«nr«»«
■; ; ;v. ;, :>, •■ ■-: Price t «*«** !
ally and Sunday.s6.oo $4.50
lily, without Sun
[ f-^L — ——^L 4 00__:3.5Q - -
k . Use Doll for Muff.
semblance of others of its kind, but
inside the skirt is a soft body witt
hand-openings on each v side. !•>»
dollie, of course, is a winter child ana
wears a long coat like her owner, tne
coat having wide side pockets, so tnai
the little • girl j carrying ; it can slip w .
hands through into the soft muff in
side. To enhance the effect the don
also carries a muff. But it is not on y
children who may be looked for"
carry this doll muff. In these faddiw
days when young women carry teaw
bears, stuffed dogs and even dolls on
the street, there is no reason why _ tow
should not carry one of these cjua
toys as a hand-warmer and t acnw*
the double success of attracting atten
tion at the same time.
An Unexpected Find.
Ton aw always likely to find lUaj
When least expect y For nstance,
then is the story now going »
rounds of the newspapers about »
woman in Connecticut who was PJ
parin* a tog of lamb for dinner w£
out dropped a diamond worth M
The woman had not the least -expe**
tion of finding a diamond in the wm
Ob the other hand. If you hare. r»
lamb Try day for mU
and examine each n*rt w«J » *»fr
scop* and an «• th»t-you wiU BO
17,0P0A» to one that you will ■«•
•tm find a $m diamond.