Chinese Theater Chinatown San Francisco Washington Street Theater Jackson Street Theater

By Arthur Inkersley.

In the bonanza days of Cali­fornia there were several Chinese theatres in San Fran­cisco, but the keen competi­tion among them for Mon­golian patronage gradually crushed all but two of them out of existence. Then a large new playhouse was built, and a company of actors of high reputation imported from Pekin. The success of this venture was so great, that one of the old theatres was closed and the other nearly ruined.

At the present day the popula­tion of China­town, San Fran­cisco, is estimated at 40,000, whose amusement is catered to by two theatres, the Tan Kwai Yuen on Washington Street, and the Po Ring on Jackson Street. As long as Chinamen were freely admitted to the United States, the Chinese thea­ters did an excel­lent business, but since the passing of the Exclusion Act, their reve­nues have been much diminished.

An annual festival is held in these theatres in commemoration of Tin, Tau, and Chung, the foun­ders of the Chi­nese drama. The two first were joint authors of dramas, and the last devised the musical and acrobatic details which form so important a part of Chinese plays. The festival lasts three days, during which special performances are given, each founder getting one-third of each day devoted to his honor. In the early days of the Chinese drama the players were amateurs, the sons of nobles, and were called mandarin actors. There was no professional class of actors regularly trained for the stage.

Londonberry Gold Mine John Mills Golden Hole Coolgardie Gold Fields Australia

By John Marshall.

The following true and interesting account of the discovery of the "Londonderry Golden Hole" was told to the writer by the discoverer, John Mills, shortly after the sensational find was made public. The narrative illustrates in a sensational manner the startling uncertainty of gold-mining luck.

Nowhere does the wheel of fortune revolve more quickly, "bringing chances and changes," ups and downs, than on the world's great goldfields. And among the many striking instances I have seen of the truth of this fact, during my long residence on American and Australian goldfields, none is more remarkable than the story of the party who found and sold the "Londonderry," and the subsequent decline of this once world­ renowned mining property.

In the early part of 1894 the mining industry on the Coolgardie goldfields was very sick. Since the discovery of "Bay­ley's Reward Mine" no im­portant find had been made; and it appeared as if there was going to be a severe setback to the whole goldfield. The people were beginning to lose faith in its future. Land values, too, were falling; there was a severe drought prevail­ing, and every­thing looked blue. But when things were at their worst the startling news was announced that a wonder­fully rich dis­covery had been made about twelve miles south of Cool­gardie, which roused feverish enthusiasm, gave new life to the mining industry, raised the price of land values in Coolgardie by 100 per cent, and brought thousands over from the other Colonies to try their luck on the goldfields of Western Australia. The story of the men who found the "Londonderry" is one of the most astonishing on record. They were a party of six, who set out on a prospecting tour from Coolgardie in the early months of '94. They were not well provided with money to purchase an outfit; and, indeed, the buying of a horse and dray and enough provisions to last them for a few months almost completely ex­hausted their store of wealth. For some time they prospected south of Coolgardie, near Widgiemooltha, but without success.

Island of the Dead Bardsey Cardigan Bay King John William II

By M. Dinorben Griffith.

All about a little island "monarchy" in Cardigan Bay, which in olden times was one huge cemetery. It is the private property of a member of the aristocracy, but has a crowned King of its own.

The travel epidemic has raged so fiercely of late years that it is difficult to imagine there can be an unexplored nook in the whole of Europe, or one spot untraversed by the foot of the ubiquitous tourist. Yet, within the boundaries of Great Britain, there exists a small island-ancient, historic, and of unique interest, though a terra incognita to a large majority.

As early as the fifth century this island was a prosperous little kingdom, with a noble abbey and saintly brotherhood, who, according to tradition and existing documents, were granted by God the privilege of dying according to seniority. It was also the Mecca of religious England, and, finally, it became an Island of the Dead.

Our little kingdom is a sea-girt rock, to which, for centuries, every barge and shallop brought corpses in place of living emigrants, and every turn of the spade gave evidence of mortality. Today the island is a tiny Arcadic kingdom, where the monarch and his subjects live in true patriarchal simplicity. To them the sea presents fish of many kinds; while the thin soil covering the grave tunneled rocks yields an abundant harvest of unrivalled wheat, barley, and potatoes.

Kaiser Wilhelm I of Germany

The first Emperor of the New Germa­ny is one of those historical person­ages who, without possessing remarkable talents, are nevertheless called upon to act important parts, and upon whom their peoples, after the lapse of centuries, look back as political benefactors. He does not possess the gifts of his deceased bro­ther, is not, like him, keen and witty, a scholar and a connoisseur of art, but he has other qualities, and the very ones which Germany, on account of its inter­nal weakness, and its position between two powerful and ambitious military states, most needed, if it was to escape the fate of Poland. With his clear un­derstanding and firm will, his determina­tion, his spirit of self-sacrifice, his conscientiousness, his consistency in pursuing the objects set before his eyes, he is ex­actly the prince whom our country had to find in order to make Germany strong through unity, and to raise her to her proper place among the nations of Eu­rope. Freedom at home was not our first need, but freedom from foreign influence and restraint; the other, so far as useful and possible to a state like Germany, was sure then to follow and gradually devel­op itself. It is folly to cherish any fears in this regard.

John C Calhoun Summer Home Fort Hill South Carolina

No more beautiful or salubrious region is to be found in the whole United States than that which is lifted above the low level and clinging heat of the Atlantic coast by the clustered hills of the Blue Ridge; and no part of this range is more attractive than that included in the easternmost corner of South Carolina, where that State lies like a wedge between North Carolina and Georgia.

It was here, half a century or more ago, that one of the men of the South, who has stamped his name deeply into American history, the Honorable John C. Calhoun, fixed his home, and possessed himself of what have now become ancestral acres. in the prime of the old Southern supremacy and prosperity, in the zenith of the states­man's career, it was a place where the citi­zens of Charleston and Columbia, and all of the rest of the world who were fortunate in having the owner's friendship, went for large hospitality and rural sport au grand seigneur. In these days of the decadence of all that make such a place glorious and its owner an autocrat, the half-deserted mansion has become a point of pilgrimage for those whose imaginations still cling to ­the old order of things, and of curiosity to others, who care to see a relic of former pride.

Sons Of the Wildnerness Hermit Monks of Sierra Morena Cordoba Spain

By Herbert Vivian.

Monks we know all about, but hermits are still mysterious and medieval. The following is a graphic account of a community of hermits inhabiting the wilderness of Cordoba, in Spain. Illustrated with photographs and described by a gentleman who paid them a visit, provided with a. special permit from. the Bishop of Cordoba.

Most of us have by this time a very clear idea of the life of a monk or a nun in any Catholic conventual establishment which may be named. So much has been written on the subject, in the form both of  "heavy" and perish­able literature, that anyone of average education can conjure up a fairly accurate picture of their daily round of work and prayer in all its monotonous simplicity. But the mere mention of a hermit still suggests all sorts of mysterious possibilities: men living the lives of outcasts in almost inaccessible caves, prodigies of privation; skulls for cups, rats and serpents for sole com­panions - in fact, all the romance of religion, as religion was observed in the Middle Ages. ­

Christmas Island Flying Fish Cove Sir John Murray

Nothing so enthralls the im­agination, especially the fresh imagination of a boy, as the thought of an island set far out in the lonely waste of a southern sea. Palms rise first from over the horizon's edge; then the long, low beaches of sand appear, with the surf thundering upon them; the sea-birds clatter at the strange sight of a sail; perhaps the black, sprawling ribs of some ancient wreck rise above the smothering sand, and beyond that, leading down from the tufted palms, are the footprints of a savage. Who knows what pirates have ca­reened their ships in that half-hidden har­bor, or what rough men, bearded, heads bound with red kerchiefs, pistols in sash, have there been marooned, and have stood gazing out to sea for a sail. A far-sea island is the open door to all romance. How well Robert Louis Stevenson, who was always a boy in imagination and all too briefly a man in years, knew that door. How he loved a sea island! And where is the boy who would not give his birthright to have been on the "Hispaniola" when she first sighted" Treas­ure Island"!And what is the charm of "Robinson Crusoe" and "Swiss Family Rob­inson" and" Sind bad the Sailor," of Poe at his best, and Marryat and Cooper, and all those other robust story-tellers who have made life worth living-what but a sea island!

Juggernath Festival in Bengal India

By Reverend T. R. Edwards.

The festival is not what it was in the days when frenzied devotees hurled themselves beneath the wheels of the car, but still it remains an extraordinary instance, of Pagan fanaticism and fervor. This well known missionary tells us all about the festival, and illustrates his description with photos, of a striking character.

The great car of Juggernaut, or Juggernath! The very name sug­gests the reading books we used at school, which told us of the sanguinary horrors of the festival and the hideous trail of blood left by the murderous wheels. All this, of course, is past and gone, thanks to the beneficent rule of the British in India - a rule which, one is bound to say, is fatal to what the worldling is apt to call "the pic­turesque."

Even today, however, one of the most charac­teristic sights to be witnessed in India is that furnished by the worship of the god Juggernath. To begin with, there is the im­posing temple, surrounded with an atmosphere of age-long mys­tery and super­stition. Next comes the lofty and ponderous car, gaudily painted with Hindu mytho­logical scenes. Let me here afford you a near view of one of the cars of Juggernath -an excellent idea of its size is gained by comparing it with the figure of the native on the right. You will observe that the construction of the car is extremely rude, and round it runs what looks like a crazy balcony. The wheels are more or less sunk in the sand, and on the right we see the great cables used for hauling on the festival day. In contemplating this extraordinary temple on wheels, however, it must be borne in mind that the one shown in our photo is "in its stable," so to speak; its appearance on the great day itself being far more gay and animated. But this will be evident in the other photos.

Holy Blood Procession at Bruges Knights of the Order of St Sepulchre

By Lily Bridgman.

Everybody in these days knows Bruges, if not through personal knowledge, at any rate by hear say. Bruges, the Northern Venice of the Middle Ages, known as such by virtue of its world-wide commerce and the splen­dor of its Courts under the Counts of Flanders, and later under the Dukes of Burgundy.

Over seven and a half centuries have elapsed since Thierry d'Alsace, Count of Flanders, as a fitting reward for glorious deeds performed in the Holy Wars, received from Baldwin III., King of Jerusalem, and the Patriarch of Jerusalem, a portion of the precious relic preserved in the Church of the Holy City­ a relic whose sacredness and virtue called forth all the intense religious enthusiasm and ardor distinguishing the followers of Peter the Hermit in the eleventh, twelfth, and thirteenth centuries. And what wonder, when the world­ famed relic was no less than some of the blood of Christ!

Tradition shows that it was through Joseph of Arimathea that the Church obtained this relic. He it was who took the body of Christ down from the cross, and who, after reverently bathing the sacred wounds, preserved the blood which had sprung there from; his descendants even­tually handing their precious heirloom over to the safeguard of Mother Church.

Bangkok Siam Meinam River Wat Ching

We left Singapore - which, though an English colony, is a very Babel of languages and nations - in a Bom­bay merchantman, whose captain was an Arab, the cook Chinese, and the fourteen men who composed the crew belong­ed to at least half that many different na­tions, whilst our party in the cabin were English, Scotch, French and American. After eight days of rather stormy weath­er we disembarked at the mouth of the Meinam River, thirty miles below the city of Bangkok. Owing to the sand­bar at the mouth, large vessels must either partially unload outside, or wait for the flood tide when the moon is full to pass the bar; and to avoid the delay consequent upon either course, we took passage for the city in a native sampan pulled by eight men with long slender oars. The trip was a delightful one, giving us enchanting glimpses of tropical foliage, gleaming out from among clustering palms and graceful banians, we could discern the gilded spires of gorgeous temples and palaces, of which Bangkok boasts. probably not less than two hun­dred. The temples, with their glittering tiles of green and gold, and graceful turrets and pinnacles from which hang tiny tinkling bells that ring out sweet music with every passing breeze, their tall, slender pagodas and picturesque monasteries, stand all along the banks of the river, its most conspicuous adorn­ments. But preeminent, both for height and splendor, is Wat Chang, visible, all but its base, from the very mouth of the river. Its central spire, full three hun­dred feet in height, towers grandly above the surrounding turrets and pagodas, the white walls gleaming out from the dark foliage of the banian, and the feathery fringes of the palm reflected on its shin­ing roof. the grand old city long before we reached it. 

Emma Lyon, Lady Hamilton

By Harry Thurston Peck.

In October of last year, in every quarter of the British Empire, there was celebrated with intense enthusiasm the hundredth anniversary of the battle of Trafalgar, the great sea-fight in which the naval power of France was crushed by the genius of Lord Nelson. The event naturally called forth new additions to the already enormous mass of Nelson literature; and, as was only natural, many reminiscences were evoked of the woman with whose name one part of the English admiral's life is inseparably associated. Yet even now there exists no fair and trustworthy study of her who was a gentler Cleopatra to a greater Antony. It is ninety years since Lady Hamilton died in an obscure lodging in the French town of Calais; and yet those who narrate her strange career seem fully as much swayed by prejudice or by admiration as were the men and women of her own generation.

This is, perhaps, a tribute to the subtle power of her personality; but it is un­fortunate for such as wish to know the truth about her. Lady Hamilton was neither saint nor siren. She was first and last and all the time a woman, and one may hope that before long her story may be fully written with a due regard for the historic facts, and yet with that sym­pathetic insight which so unusual a char­acter demands.

Sculptor George Grey Barnard

By Regina Armstrong Hilliard.

One of the most interesting figures in contemporary American art is Mr. George Grey Barnard, the sculptor, whose work - notably his statues exhibited at the Salon of the Champ de Mars in Paris - has received the unqualified praise of the world's greatest critics. Here is a man worthy to be ranked with Michelangelo, some of them have been enthusiastic enough to say; for not only is his work different from that of any other modern sculp­tor, but he has created a new interpre­tation of man and of nature, and in his conceptions are the virility and fresh­ness of eternal youth, and, directing it, a wise and classical temperament.

Mr. Barnard was born in Pennsyl­vania, the son of an Indiana clergyman, but most of his childhood was spent in or near Chicago. When he was about five years of age he made friends with a retired sea captain, whose geological collection, gathered from all parts of the world, first directed the childish impulse toward that knowledge of nature which was the beginning of his artistic life. He roamed the fields and woods for curious stones and shells, which he found more to be desired than toys, and more marvelous than story books.

The boy who found his chief interest in stones was father to the man who is today working out the epic of humanity in marble. Mr. Barnard is the essence of his work. He takes nature as his context, and man as a detail in the great unfolding plan.

Edna May Prima Donna & Actress

By Matthew White, Jr.

More remarkable, perhaps, than the life story of any other player now before the public is the career of Edna May Pettie, the daughter of a Syracuse letter carrier. Her stage name is doubtless known to every newspaper reader in England and America. Not gifted with unusual talent, by real cleverness in ma­king the most of herself this pretty girl from central New York has found the center of the lime-light that shines upon the English speaking stage.

The keynote of Edna May's popular­ity is brought out in a statement made by Manager George W. Lederer, as long ago as 1900, when, after her pronounced hit with "The Belle of New York," in London, he said to a newspaper man: "What I like about her is that, notwithstanding her extraordinary success, she is still the same simple, modest little woman that she was on her first stellar appear­ance in New York. She has none of the 'big head' so prevalent among ac­tors. Her success in society abroad - she has sung at any number of drawingroom entertainments - is due to the fact that she has the happy faculty of being able to look wise and say little. She can say 'yes' and 'no' in a prettier and more fetching way, and she can say it oftener too, than anyone else I have ever met."

Inventor George Westinghouse

By Clifford Smith.

It is one thing to be an inventor; it is quite another thing to be the suc­cessful organizer of great manufacturing enterprises. The creative brain rarely goes with that executive faculty which dominates and controls the practical cur­rents of business and commerce. The man who thinks out a new machine ap­peals to another man to produce it. Hence it comes that "the inventor stays poor; his promoter grows rich" -a dictum which is abundantly corroborated by the careers of many brilliant men who are prominently named in the bio­graphical dictionaries.

George Westinghouse, however, has always been the promoter of his own in­ventions; and thus it happens that to­day he stands alone as a man who has created appliances which have made possible the modern developments of steam and electricity at the same time that he has exercised a practical ability which has placed him at the head of fifty thousand employees. He is pres­ident of thirty corporations having a combined capital of two hundred million dollars, and he has been able to amass a private fortune of fifty million dollars.

Bourbon Kings & Queens of Spain Charles IV Maria Christina Alfonzo XIII

By Vance Thompson.

The whole world is becoming reason­able. At all the crossroads of life democracy has put up its sign-posts, pointing out the beaten path; in an­other generation no one will dream of walking on the grass. And the color is going out of things. Everywhere today the European palette is uniform and gray. Even royalty is putting away its purple; the modern king walks abroad in bowler and tweeds. Those who love the spectacle and parade of life have to go far afield for it. Indeed, of all the European monarchies only Spain has kept very much of the old stately ceremonial; and democracy, in its insistent way, is knocking at the doors of the palacio real.

American Millionaires Hill Harriman Rockefeller Gould Vanderbilt Astor

BY Arthur Reed Kimball.

ONE day in September, 1852, when the ship that brought the late Carl Schurz to America was sail­ing up New York Harbor, Mr. Schurz chanced to notice some "charming dwell­ings" on the shore of Staten Island, then a favorite watering-place. He turned to a fellow passenger, a home coming American, and asked who were the own­ers of these pretty houses.

"Rich New Yorkers," was the laconic reply, as Mr. Schurz himself recorded it.

"And how much must a man have to be called a 'rich' New Yorker?" Mr. Schurz inquired.

"Well," was the answer, "a man who has something like a hundred and fifty or two hundred thousand dollars, or an assured income of ten or twelve thousand a year, would be considered wealthy. Of course there are men who have more than that - as much as a million or two, or even more."

"Are there many such in New York? " "Oh, no, not many; perhaps a dozen." How many such are. there in New York today? Nobody can tell with ex­actness. I recently put the question to an active member of one of New York's most important banking and promoting houses.

"Oh, five thousand," was his reply. "There are twenty-five hundred million­aires I could count up, and there must be twenty-five hundred more, many of whom are absolutely unknown to Wall Street."

Jay Gould Amateur Tennis Champion

When young Jay Gould recently defeated Eustace Miles at court ­tennis, in London, he became, for the time, the amateur champion of the world in that fascinating game. Mr. Gould, who is the son of George Gould, is only eighteen years old, while his opponent is thirty-nine - a vet­eran, but by no means too old for tennis, which re­quires not merely nimbleness sand speed, but experi­ence, judgment, and well-trained muscles. In point of fact, Mr. Miles's play was described by those who witnessed it as "miraculous" in some of the sets; but Mr. Gould won out in the series. The London Times said of him:

This young Amer­ican deserves the very highest credit for vanquishing the best man we have to put against him, after he had easily beaten all our other best players in the previous tournament.

There must be something particular­ly gratifying to Mr. Gould in the fact of his brilliant vic­tory in court-tennis. Englishmen have always regarded this as especially their own game, and one, by a sort of tradi­tion, set apart for the aristocracy. They have, however, shown their national sportsmanship and fair play in gener­ously applauding the youthful American student - Mr. Gould is a freshman at Columbia-who has wrested the highest honors from their chosen champion.

Children's Tree Planting Festival in Rome Italy Signor Bacelli Queen Margherita

By Mrs. Herbert Vivian

It was the idea of Signor BacelIi, the Italian Minister for Public Instruction who, seeing the growing bareness of the country and the rapid depletion of the few remaining forests, conceived the idea of instituting periodical festivals on which school boys and girls might plant trees for the benefit of the next generation. The scientific and other values of this act were pointed out to the young people, and the fete was graced with the presence of Queen Margherita.

It is a sad fact that poor Italy, once so rich in glorious forests and green woods, has been losing them rapidly, and that, owing to a reckless and indiscriminate use of the hatchet, the whole land is becoming desolate and denuded. This state of things affects not only her beauty, but also her prosperity, for wood is much used for fuel, and it is now becoming ominously dear. This has been taken to heart by many patriotic Italians, and Signor Baclli, the fertile-minded Minister for Public Instruc­tion, recently inaugurated a popular festival, which bids fair to cover the Alps and Apennines once more with green before we are halfway through the next century.

Draining the Florida Everglades Lake Okechobee Caloosahatchee River

By A. B. Clark.

Crocodiles, water-moccasins, Seminole Indians, plume hunters, and occasional fugitives from justice have been for more than a hundred years the principal inhabitants of the Everglades of Florida - that vast tangled morass which occupies almost the whole of the southern end of the peninsula. Now the Everglades are to be drained. Both State and national governments are at work. When the great work is done more than seven million acres of the richest sugar land in the world will be added to the productive domain of the State.

To most minds the name Everglades has an indefi­nite meaning, carrying with it an idea of Indians and alligators, pathless forests and immense sur­faces of water. Very few understand that it occupies almost the entire southern half of the peninsula of Florida, and that its millions of acres of water and mud are exciting the attention of engineers and scientists throughout the country. In round numbers its area is six or seven million acres and it occupies most of

How Polo Is Played With Photographic Illustrations From 1898

By John J McNamara

There is no outdoor sport more fascinating than pony polo. Although this somewhat exclusive game has been estab­lished in America for about twenty-five years, the general public know very little about the sport for the reason that the match games, with one or two exceptions, are played away from the centers of popu­lation, and the people do not have an opportunity to familiarize themselves with the delights of polo. Most of the leading clubs have their grounds located far from the cities, and this is particularly true of the clubs hailing from Boston, Philadelphia and New York.

The Myopia club is located some thirty miles from Boston, and the Rockaway and Meadowbrook clubs are almost as far away from Greater New York, while the Philadelphia clubs are also located in the country. At Buffalo the game is played on a public park, and on polo days large crowds of people assemble to see the fleet-footed ponies race over the turf while their riders attempt to control the ball. Buffalo is perhaps the only large city where the game is played regularly in public, although once every year the national championships are held on Pros­pect Park, Brooklyn, where vast crowds of from 20,000 to 25,000 people turn out to see the crack teams of the country in battle for the Astor gold cup. It will thus be readily seen that the opportunities for becoming acquainted with the game are somewhat meager, and the knowledge of the sport is chiefly confined to the players and their friends who are indi­rectly interested.

Colony Club New York City Woman's Club

By Anna McClure Scholl

A new departure in clubs for American women - an exclusive New York organization whose club-house, recently opened, is a model of comfort and of tasteful decoration.

London has long been famous for its women's clubs, patterned after those of the men, even to the smoking-rooms and wine-cellars; but until recently what American women called their clubs were nothing more than houseless affairs, synonymous with a lunch at some fashionable restaurant, followed by a "paper" on the subject for the day and a subsequent discussion of its contents.

The club that meets intermittently for intellectual improvement or mutual di­version still flourishes; but nowadays the trend in club life is toward the purely social organization with a permanent home, where its members can give a din­ner or a dance, take a plunge in the swimming pool, or have tea on the roof garden; where they can drop in to read, write, rest, or chat, and find about them all the luxuries of their own houses, with the added advantage of freedom from personal care and responsibility.

Brigadier General Theodore A Bingham Police Commissioner of New York

In the great capitals of Europe, the heads of the police are always men of first-rate character, accomplishments, and training, and they rank with high officers in the regular army. In our own country, too often, men of a very different type have been selected for these responsible positions, and from this fact there have resulted some of the great scandals of our municipal politics.

A police commissioner of the European model is found in General Theodore

When Mayor McClellan placed him at the head of the New York police system, the wisdom of the appointment was questioned by politicians of the old school. "He'lI not last long," they. said. But General Bingham has lasted. He has brought to his task the effi­ciency of a trained soldier and organizer. His personal forcefulness and his cogent argu­ments induced the Legislature to increase his powers. Today he is going on with tireless energy to correct certain defects in the morale of the metropolitan police - defects present­ing problems which many earnest reformers have despaired of solving.

Alfred Bingham, who is the commander-in-chief of New York's ten thousand stalwart guardians of the peace. A graduate of Yale and of West Point, he served in the regular army as a major of engineers, and was United States military attache at Berlin and Rome. Later he was the personal aide of President McKinley, and was promoted to the command of a brigade by President Roosevelt in 1904, retiring on the day following his promotion.

Mohammed Ali Mirza Shah of Persia

The new Shah of Persia, Mo­hammed Ali Mirza, is the first ruler of that country to ascend the throne as a constitutional mon­arch. His grandfather, the old Shah, Nazr-ed-Din, who reigned for nearly fifty years, was an oriental despot pure and simple. His cruelty and his magnificence were equal. When he traveled about his realms he was followed by a caravan which extended for miles behind him. Eighteen hun­dred horses and mules were taken with him, and four thousand sol­diers escorted him. There were volleys of artillery, illuminations, triumphal arches, and forests of flags to greet the Shah-in-Shah, the King of Kings. With him also were carried instruments of torture; for he loved to admin­ister what he called justice and to see it executed before his eyes.

It was he who visited Queen Victoria and left the magnificent house which was placed at his dis­posal in a state of indescribable filth; for the drawing-rooms had been used as pens in which to slaughter sheep and fowls. It is recorded that during his stay in London he attended a reception at Stafford House, where he was the guest of the Duke of Suther­land. The beauty of the mansion so impressed the Shah that he called the Prince of Wales aside and questioned him.

"Who is the owner of this place?" asked his Persian majesty.

"This," said the prince, "is the home of one of our great noblemen."

"Oh !" said the Shah gravely.

"If you will profit by my experience, you will let me tell you that such powerful sub­jects are dangerous. Have his head struck off tomorrow!"

Newport Cottages And Gardens Breakers Crossways Wyndham Hopeden

By Elizabeth Odgers Toombs

How architecture and landscape art have combined to beautify the American summer capital - a striking demonstration of what wealth and taste can do.

The proud distinction of being the show town of America, the sum­mer capital of wealth and fash­ion, is in some respects a disadvantage to Newport. Her people, her streets, her houses, and her gardens are sup­posed to be continually on dress parade. People who should know better assume that at this gathering place of million­aires they will find no true art or beauty, merely a 
cold formalism and the oppres­sive atmosphere of great riches. As if loveliness lived only in Bohemia! Bellevue Avenue - which, unfortu­nately, was planned in the early days of American town building - is not all of Newport. Many of the mistakes made in its beginning have been rec­tified at great expense and after careful study; and when the grandeur of the Ocean Drive, the serene pastoral beauty of Coddington Point, and the cliffs, with the ocean tumbling at their base, are considered, the avenue, with its smart present-day aspect, fades into nothing­ness.

Nicholas & Alexandra Feodorovna Czar & Czarina of Russia

A great deal has been written during the past few years about the per­sonality of the Russian Czar ­which nevertheless, to many people, remains more or less of a puzzle. He has been de­scribed as a weakling, a coward, and a sort of imperial mollycoddle. Stories have been told of how, on the death of his father, he fell into a state of extreme melancholia, and could hardly be persuaded to assume the crown. It was said that only on the strong urging of his uncle, the Prince of Wales­ - now King Edward VII - did he at last rouse himself sufficiently to accept the terrible bur­dens of his unwieldy and disordered em­pire. Since the Japa­nese war, the news­papers of the world have pictured him as hidden away in his closely guarded palace at Tsarskoye-Selo, surrounded by picked troops and shuddering at the rumblings of revolution.

Louis Brennan Monorail Gyroscope Railroad

The remarkable invention experimentally demonstrated by Louis Brennan - Will it prove successful in practical operations?

With two rails and an ordinary steam locomotive, the practical limit of safe speed was reached years ago. Some trains on the New York Central and the Pennsylvania Railroad in this country, and on a few of the leading lines of France and England, have shown that a rate of sixty and even seventy miles an hour can be maintained for a considerable distance. But this speed demands a perfect road bed and a quite or very nearly straight track. No engine can take a curve of short radius at sixty miles an hour without being thrown from the rails. Hence, on most of the exist­ing lines, the speed problem demands some new device if trains are to be run with proper safety and in quicker time.

Cleveland Ohio Boys' Club

BY W. Frank McClure.

There is in the city of Cleveland, Ohio, a boys' club whose members make "gipsy trips" across the State, pay visits to prominent personages, camp on distant historic grounds, travel to national expositions, and do other things that seldom fall to the lot of the average American boy. The club is backed by prominent professional and business men, whose initial contribution to its success amounted to twenty-five thousand dollars. This evidence of the stability of the plan, together with the novelty of the methods employed and the broad scope of the work, attracted general attention in the world of philan­thropic endeavor.

Sculptor Auguste Rodin Secrets of His Genius As Revealed By Himself

There are those who assert that Auguste Rodin is the greatest sculptor since Michael Angelo. However that may be, he is certainly the most astounding.

Those who have stood in wonder before one of Rodin's tremendous creations have longed to look into the sculptor's mind and know the secret of his genius. This desire has now been in large measure fulfilled, for in a sumptuous volume published by Small, Maynard & Company we have a series of conversations on Art between Rodin and Paul Gsell, in the reading of which we receive an explanation of many of the thoughts that Rodin has expressed in clay. He gives us an interpretation of art as he sees it, and immediately much of the mystery that has veiled his work vanishes. How clearly he reveals to us the spirit of his work is shown by the following selections from the conversa­tions that are recorded in M. Gsell's book: OUR INHERITANCE.

Teaching the Deaf Blind Helen Keller Tommy Stringer Linnie Haguewood

By Day Allen Willey

The wonderful work that has been done in rescuing children who have neither sight nor hearing from the mental and moral darkness that encompassed them.

A few years ago a memorable address was delivered in the State House whose gilded dome overlooks Boston Common. It was the strangest address, in some respects, to which any body of legislators had ever listened. It was an appeal for a stricken class of humanity, delivered by a young girl who herself belonged to that class - Helen Keller, blind and deaf from infancy, and taught to express her thoughts as if by a modern miracle.

The incident, which will never be forgotten by those who witnessed it, marked a new era in the history of the deaf blind. Public attention was called to them as never before by the wonderful exhibition of mental development given by one of their number. It was known that here and there others were being educated, but few realized how numerous are these human derelicts, or understood the beneficence of the work that rescues them from an isolation worse than death.