The Golden age. [volume], March 14, 1907, Page 7, Image 7

About The Golden age. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1906-1920

Image provided by: Digital Library of Georgia, a project of GALILEO located at the University of Georgia Libraries

                
Anecdotes of Prominent People
Upton Sinclair, the noted novelist, in an address
at a vegetarian banquet, attacked the trusts:
1 ‘The trusts’ effrontery is amazing,” he said.
“They commit a sin with a virtuous air as you or
I would do a piece of charity And there is no
getting around them, no heading them off. They
are like old Eliphalet Hoskins.
“Eliphalet Hoskins was one of the old residen
ters of the Head of Sassafras, a small Maryland
village. He was light-fingered. He lifted eggs,
bars of soap, potatoes, chickens —anything that
came in his way. The Head of Sassafras people
knew his failings well, but on account of his great
age they had pity on him. He was never punished.
“It happened that one night a load of dried
fish arrived at the wharf too late for the keeper
of the general store to remove it. There was noth
ing to do but cover it with a tarpaulin and leave
it out all night. Tn this there was no risk, though.
The Head of Sassafras people were an honest lot.
“ ‘They’re an honest lot here,’ muttered the
storekeeper, as he drew a tarpaulin over his dried
fish, and just then he heard cautious footsteps. He
looked up, and there was old Eliphalet Hoskins
eyeing the mound of fish gloatingly.
“The storekeeper gave a grunt of vexation. Then
he selected a couple of fish and extended them to
the old man.
“ ‘Eliphalet,’ he said, ‘l’ve got to leave this
pile of fish out here over night. Now, if I give
you these two fine fellers, will you promise not to
steal none of the others?’
“Eliphalet looked at the two fish in the store
keeper’s hand. Then he looked at the mountain
of them underneath the taipaulin.
“ ‘That’s a fair offer, Mr. Smith,’ he said
slowly, ‘but —well —I dunn —I think T can do bet
ter. ’ ’ ’
His Average.
“Winter has many drawbacks,” said Henry J.
Woodhouse, the noted meteorologist, in Washing
ton, “and not least of these is the winter fog that
drops down soot upon men’s faces. Some day we
shall dissipate this fog with electricity, but that
day is distant.”
Mr. Woodhouse smiled.
“In a restaurant, on a recent foggy, sooty day,
I couldn’t resist leaning over and whispering to a
well-dressed man at the next table:
“ ‘Excuse me, sir, but there’s a speck of soot
on your nose.’
‘ ‘ The man smiled agreeably.
“ ‘No,’ he said. ‘No, that isn’t soot. It is a
peculiar kind of mole, and you are the seventh
man since breakfast to ask me to wash it off. Aly
average for foggy days is ten.'
An Adverse Judgment.
Winter strawberries are raised in a large way
by S. E. Jeter, of Humboldt, Tenn. In all the big
cities Mr. Jeter’s strawberries can be bought in
the coldest weather, and the fruit is as sweet and
delicate as that of June.
“It is one thing to raise winter berries, and it
is another tiling to raise good ones —to raise the
kind that don’t knot up your face like a mouthful
of lemon,” said Mr. Jeter recently.
“You test strawlberries as you test port wine,
by the color, the odor, and the flavor. And there
are few winter berries that will meet this test. It
is like the port wine story.
“A gentleman invited a connoisseur to try some
port that he had just laid in. ‘I like it myself,’
he said, ‘but I admit I’m no judge. I’ll feel bet
ter about it after I've had your opinion.’
“ ‘Well,’ said the connoisseur, ‘we judge a glass
of port in three wax’s: first, by the color, second,
by the odor, and, third, by the flavor.’
“He held the glass to the light.
“ ‘The color of this port is very good,’ he said.
“He sniffed it delicately.
“ ‘The odor,’ he said, ‘is far from unpleasant.
Now for the taste.’
Xow
He Could Do Better.
The Golden Age for March 14, 1907.
‘‘ He sipped the wine, and then put his glass down
hastily.
“ ‘Would you mind passing me the claret?’ he
said. ”
The Generous Boy.
A missionary bishop told at a dinner in New
York a story about F. Marion 'Crawford, the famous
novelist:
“Mr. Crawford went to school,” he said, “in
Concord, and one day he was taken to call on a
Concord gentleman.
“The clergyman had a missionary box on his
drawing-room table, and, time hanging heavy on
the boy’s hand, he amused himself with trying
whether a silver dollar —it was all the money he
had in the world, and he had converted it into
that gigantic coin for safety—would go into the
slit in the box’s top. »
“It was a close fit, but, unfortunately, it did go,
and the coin slipped out of the embiyo author’s
fingers. There was a terrible crash'—a crash of sil
ver falling among the copper —and then the boy,
as the novelists say, ‘knew no more.’
“When he came to himself he found the clergy
man and his family in raptures over his gener
osity.”
Without the Words.
Senator Clay, of Georgia, was telling Senator
Pettus, of Alabama, about an unfair, brow-beating
and insolent federal judge in the South. “He is—,
he is—, he is—,” said Senator Clay, hesitating for
a word. “I understand you perfectly, senator,”
said Senator Pettus. “You are a Baptist and your
religion does not furnish the words necessary prop
erly to describe such a man.”
The Grave Digger.
Dr. John S. Buist, the famous Southern surgeon,
said in one of his surgical lectures at the State
College:
“It is always in rather bad taste for a physician
to boast of being busy. Physicians, undertakers
and gravediggers only cause discomfort when they
allude to good times and prosperity.
“There was an old man applied to the minister
of the little village of Point Rock for the post of
gravedigger. His references were good, and the
minister agreed to assign him to the churchyard.
He was to be paid so much a grave.
“The gravedigger haggled over the price, finally
accepting it.
“ ‘But, will I get steady work?’ he demanded.
“ ‘Steady work’’ said the minister. ‘Land’s
sake, man, with steady work you’d bury all Point
Rock in a week ! ’ ”
(From the New Orleans Times-Democrat.)
Facts About Prominent People.
Dr. Mary P. Jacobi, who died in New York City
a few months ago, may be said to be the first wo
man medical practitioner to gain international dis
tinction. She was the wife of Dr. Abraham Jacobi,
who was a refugee from Germany with Carl Schurz,
and in addition to her large practice she wrote a
number of medical works which are accepted as
authorities by the profession today.
Another woman physician of German ancestry is
Dr. Adelaide Wallenstein, of New York City, who
lias converted a part of her splendid residence into
a physician’s office. She devotes a large portion
of each day to her medical practice, giving all the
money thus made to East Side charities. Mrs.
Wallerstein is as prominent socially as she is pro
fessionally, but her work necessitates her relinquish
ing most of her social diversions.
The South has been slow to accept women in med
ical fields, and also slow to give such women gov
ernment positions, even though they may be emi
nently fitted for them. An exception to this rule
may be found in the recent appointment of Dr,
Irene B. Bullard, of Radford, Va., to the position
of Third Assistant Physician in the Eastern State
Hospital for the insane, located at Williamsburg,
Virginia.
The old order of things which restricted women
to very few lines of remunerative work is rapidly
passing, and we note the “gentler sex” in every
line of intellectual and commercial endeavor. An
instance of the success of women in strictly trade
centers is seen in the case of Miss Bessie and Miss
Natalie Enos, of Westchester county, New York,
who are carrying on /a successful and lucrative lin
gerie and fancy goods business near Berkeley
Square, London.
The Countess of Tankerville is ably assisting
her husband, the Earl, in his religious work in
Shropshire, England. The Countess was Miss Le
onora Van Marter, of this country, while the Earl
spent much of his early life here also.
Os all unique and unusual fields for women’s
work, that of Mrs. Alice White may be considered
to hold front rank. This gentle little blue-eyed
woman is engaged in making all the costumes worn
by animals in the great circuses of the world. She
employs a large corps of assistants and has made
a considerable fortune. For twenty years she has
had almost exclusive control of this work, and when
it is said that the coat worn by one elephant cost
over SI,OOO, and occupied ten women more than a
week to make it, it will be seen that the position
as manager of this enterprise is no sinecure.
• ■■
There was recently buried at New Providence,
R. 1., a woman who assisted in our country’s most
notable historic events. This was Mrs. Rachel
Brookfield, who wais the daughter of a Minute Man
in the Revolution, and who, being ninety-six years
old at her death, witnessed the chief events in the
making of the nation.
The distinction of possessing the three finest
diamonds in the city of London belongs to three
prominent women of the English nobility—these
are the Duchess of Westminster, the Countess of
Dudley and the Duchess of Portland. The husbands
of these women are the richest noblemen in the
peerage.
Foibles of Literary Men.
Keats liked red pepper on his toast.
Dickens was fond of wearing jewelry.
Daudet wore his eyeglasses when asleep.
Joaquin Miller nailed all his chairs to the wall.
Edgar Allen Poe slept with his cat and was in
ordinately proud of his feet.
Thackeray used to lift his hat whenever he pass
ed the house at which he wrote, “Vanity Fair.”
Alexander Dumas, the younger, bought a new
painting every time he had a new book published.
Robert Louis Stevenson’s favorite recreation was
playing the flute, in order, as he said, Io tune up his
ideas.
Robert Browning could not'sit still. With the
constant shuffling of his feet holes were worn in
the carpel.
Longfellow enjoyed walking only at sunrise or
sunset, and he said his snblimesf moo Is came upon
him at these times.
Oliver Wendell Holmes used to carry a horse
chestnut in one pocket and a potato in another to
ward off rheumatism. —London Outlook.
Hawthorne always washed his hands before read
ing a letter from his wife. He delighted in poring
over old advertisements in the newspaper fib's,
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