Makes Odd Funeral Request

1916

Wealthy Man's Ashes Buried With His Two Wives.

WASHINGTON, Pennsylvania — James S. Stocking, 77 years old, former legislator, county clerk of courts, Civil War veteran and one of the wealthiest men of this city, was buried under the provisions of his will, which are extremely unusual. The portion of his will relating to his burial follows:

"I direct that my body shall be cremated, and no religious services shall be held on my body, ashes or grave. I direct that my ashes shall be divided in two parts and placed in two strong and air and water tight urns, one to be buried in my first wife's grave and the other in the grave of my second wife."

—The Saturday Blade, Chicago, Sept. 16, 1916, p. 11.

Yank Must Find Bride in Twenty Days or Lose $10,000

1920

Says He Wants Wife Anyway — Is Tired of Wanderer's Life

BOSTON, Mass., March 18. — Sergeant Edward J. Seitz of Camp Devens has 20 days to choose a wife or lose an inheritance of $10,000.

By the stipulation of a wealthy New York woman — a near relative — who is still living, Seitz must marry as soon as he is discharged from the Army. His discharge will take effect in about three weeks.

Sergeant Seitz is an overseas veteran of the Canadian and American armies. Together with the prospective dowry of $10,000, he has the following attributes to offer: Six foot 2 inches of perfect manhood, good looks, splendid habits — smokes but doesn't drink — college bred, druggist by profession, musically inclined and a companionable sort of chap.

Seized With Wanderlust

Sergeant Seitz is a "top" in charge of a medical detachment at the Devens Hospital. He stated that he was born in Buffalo 25 years ago. From Buffalo he went to Chicago where he attended St. Ignatius College for three years. On leaving college he entered the drug trade and was progressing rapidly in his profession when the wanderlust seized him.

From Chicago he journeyed north, south, east and west. He visited many cities in the United States until 1916.

Then he went to Canada and enlisted; went to England and was discharged; came back and enlisted in the field artillery at Jefferson Barracks, Missouri. From the field artillery he was transferred to the medical corps at Fort Leavenworth. Then overseas, one year spent in France, Belgium and Germany and back to Camp Devens.

Wants a Loving Wife

Sergeant Seitz has at last called it a day. The old wanderlust has left him. He is thru with the Army. Now he wants the "right girl" and his inheritance.

The sergeant told his story.

"I am tired of going and I want to stop. I've seen, heard and done enough, and now I want to settle down. I want to marry the right girl, a real girl, who will make a good home-loving wife.

"In twenty days I leave the Army. Forty days from today I want to have a girl who will be my wife. When I am married, and I must do it as soon as I get out of the service, I will receive $10,000."

Wants "Magazine Cover Girl"

Here is the secret of the dowry that goes with Seitz's marriage. "About eight years ago," said the soldier, "a close friend of my family, a well-to-do New York woman, became interested in me. She wanted me to be a druggist and settle down, but I couldn't see it. Recently this woman, I cannot tell her name, told me that she would present me with a check of $10,000 if I would start anew — if I would marry and make a home.

"Now my predicament is the girl." The sergeant talked earnestly. "I have met plenty of girls, many nice ones; but in all my travels never the right one. I have a fixed type, a girl like that," and the soldier pointed out a magazine picture of his moving picture dream lady adorning the wall of his room.

— The Saturday Blade, Chicago, March 1920.

New Methods of Fighting

1917

Modern Warfare Is Carried On Under Water, Under Ground and in the Clouds

"Digging in" has a new and important significance and the fantastic legend of Darius Green is long forgotten in the light of practical achievement by the bird-man of today. The cavalry of the earth has been supplanted by the cavalry of the air. The actual fighting of modern warfare is conducted under water, under ground and far up among the clouds.

Yes, there have been drastic changes in military tactics and military equipment since the old days when we used to drill in the armory over the grocery store in the little old home town. What we tried so hard to learn of military lore in those days would be classed as low comedy by a recruiting officer of this changeful period. But all the same, one can't help wishing that one were somewhere in France at this minute with good old Company C regiment of the National Guard, and we'd make a reasonable wager that of the survivors of that organization, if given an opportunity to go, there wouldn't be a slacker in the bunch. — Exchange.

Armless Judge Going to Europe to Aid Crippled

1915
Click Photo for Bigger

There He Will Arrange Plans to Help Allies' Maimed

Photo Caption: With only his mechanical arm — designed by himself — Judge Quentin D. Corley dresses and shaves himself, handles his own food, writes his own opinions and handles his own records in the County Court of Dallas County, Texas. He drives an auto, bowls, plays billiards, carries bundles and even helps his wife with the housework.

Over in Europe there are many armless men who feel they are hopelessly helpless. So the Dallas judge is going abroad to do what he can to aid war victims "for humanity's sake," as told in another column on this page.

The top picture shows Judge Corley completing his dressing operations. A contrivance, attached to a suit case, permits him to put on his collar and tie. With an almost similar machine he shaves himself. Below is a photograph of the judge bowling.

DALLAS, Texas, Dec. 16. — Quentin D. Corley, the "armless judge" of this city, will soon take up the burden of the maimed in the European conflict. On Dec. 22 he will leave for Washington, D. C., to confer with an official whose name is not known and who had told the Belgium ambassador to America that Judge Corley, the armless, does the work of a man in everyday life.

It is expected that the judge will sign a contract with the Allies to teach armless soldiers to be happy and to be useful.

The judge says any work he may do will be for the sake of humanity and not for money. "I shall only accept the same salary. I am getting now, and expenses," he says. "If they see fit to honor me if I do their men a service, I shall be glad of that, too."

Story of the Judge's Career

Judge Corley's story is a strange one. He was of a roving disposition when young, and took no qualms at satisfying it as a guest of the railroads. He was riding thru New York State on a freight train when a burly brakeman's head showed over the far end of the car. He slipped and fell as he tried to flee. The trainmen picked him up a poor, mangled youth. One arm was gone at the shoulder and the other just above the elbow.

As he lay in the hospital fighting for life, he began figuring how he would use that life once he was out again.

"I strove to invent and picture in my mind a mechanical hand, but of course I could not get anything but the open and shut movement; no one has," he says. "Then I thought that if I made an arm with an elbow joint in it, and so rigid that it would have both lateral and perpendicular movement, I had the problem solved."

A youth of 23, seemingly handicapped for all time and yet doomed by a healthy body to live a long life, Corley came home to his parents in Dallas with only his idea of a mechanical arm — and a deathless ambition to conquer the terrible odds against him.

How His Plans Worked Out

For four years he studied law with all the mental force of his brilliant mind, and at night he spent hours upon the plan for his mechanical arm. When completed, it was a steel hook made of two steel flanges, which opened and shut on cogs, a little handle which turned them being worked by his teeth. In this way he gripped things tightly, and with the hook he could handle almost anything he could lift.

From then on it was easy. He soon learned to write and then passed the bar examination. He began to practice law and to practice the use of his arm, and study means by which he could use it. His progress was wonderful. He invented other machines, to be used in dressing and sport, until today he can do almost anything a normal being desires to do.

He has a desire bordering on passion to aid the soldiers who have lost both arms in battle. There were more than ten thousand of them in the Allies' armies alone at last count.

Wants to Make Them Useful

"I know I can teach them to use my inventions within a short time, and I want to do it," he says. "I want them to get away from the terrible feeling that they are burdens upon the state and upon their families. If they'll put these men in my hands I can teach a thousand in three months to use this arm and take their places in life and seek happiness."

His friends say he can do it, too. He has pupils all over Texas who are learning from him the secrets. They invariably make good when he turns them loose.

Judge Corley has the inventions he uses patented, but does not sell them. "I have them for humanity," he says.

The plan on which the Belgian ambassador is said to want Judge Corley to work will be a school under his supervision, at which armless men will be equipped and trained by him. It will take him to Europe about four years, if the war continues a year or so longer.

—Saturday Blade, Chicago, Dec. 18, 1915, p. 5.

Seeking to Help Wounded Veterans Regain Lives

1915

No one has yet computed the sums which have been contributed by this country to the relief of war victims in Europe. The list of the official relief societies grows daily and the contributions run into seven figures, while placards announcing teas, dances, bazaars, fashion reviews and theatrical performances meet us on every hand. And still the insistent appeal goes on, in changing form to catch the attention of the generous. The greatest artists turn orators to beg for their pitiful, starving compatriots, and every ship brings an emissary with another earnest plea which cannot be resisted.

The latest of these emissaries is Mme. Charles Le Verrier, wife of the head of the College Chaptal, the great Lycee, or boy's school, of Paris, which is now, like all the others, a military hospital. She comes to the United States as the accredited representative of the Federation des Jouets, which has been formed for the benefit of the mutilated soldiers of the republic.

"Something had to be done to bring together individual effort and save the waste of funds and energy which comes from the lack of cooperation," Mme. Le Verrier says. "Wonders have been accomplished, but there is still so much to be done that we cannot afford to lose the smallest amount of time, strength or money. We found that we must organize, affiliate with the relief work of the provinces, and all pull together toward a definite end. The Federation des Jouets is one of the results of this attempt at organization.

"One of our greatest problems is the maintenance of disabled men after the war is over and during its course. We cannot consign them wholesale to institutions. There are too many, in the first place; France would become one vast institution if she attempted to care for all the wounded, the widows and orphans, and the destitute in that way. Besides, family life, the very foundation of the nation's life, would be in large measure destroyed. How to leave the wounded soldier in his home, how to provide him with a means of livelihood so that he may remain there with his family, is our great problem. Obviously he must first be taught to make something, and then a steady market must be secured for his work.

"We naturally thought of toys. Years ago the dolls of France had a great reputation, but we allowed Germany to learn from us how to make them, and then apply her genius for organization to take our market away from us. But we are going to win it back. The education of the men has already progressed wonderfully. While they are still helpless on their backs in the hospitals they are given wood and tools and models, and they dab at the bit of wood, happy in their hopes for the future. I have brought some of these tentative efforts with me, not that their crudity is interesting or attractive, but to compare with their later work as examples Of the rapidity of their progress. They learn very quickly indeed, and their delight in their own achievements is touching.

"More difficult than the teaching of the men is the finding of a market for their work. Europe doesn't want toys."

The Greatest Fighter

1920

Jack Dempsey of pugilistic fame has been acclaimed by many as "the world's greatest fighter."

He is scheduled to meet Georges Carpentier, the Frenchman who vanquished England's premier prize fighter in less than one round, for the honor of wearing the world's championship belt, not to mention a cash consideration of several hundred thousand dollars.

A little more than a year ago 2,000,000 American youths were facing machine guns, artillery, hand grenades, bayonets and airplanes on the battlefields of France, and 2,000,000 more American boys were in the service on this side yearning for the opportunity to share the dangers of their comrades overseas.

To whom, asks the Atlanta Constitution, should go the recognition of being "the world's greatest fighter" — Jack Dempsey or some of those brave American — or French, or British, or other — boys who stood the test of the trenches?

There can be but one answer.

—Saturday Blade, Chicago, Feb. 28, 1920, p. 6.

Should Mothers of War-Dead Be Sent To France?

1920

A Suggestion

Why shouldn't the Government give the next of kin — or mothers, at least — of American boys buried in France, asks the Stars and Stripes, a soldier's newspaper, the alternative of having the bodies returned or of visiting the graves?

The Government has pledged itself to bring back all bodies asked for by the next of kin. It will cost no more — probably less — to take a mother to France than to return the body of her son.

Many mothers are not so anxious to have the bodies returned as they are to have some visual evidence that their sons are buried in proper surroundings. In recognition of this desire the Red Cross has taken pictures of graves, to be sent to the mothers.

Wouldn't it be a graceful and grateful act on the part of the Government, for whom these mothers have made the supreme sacrifice of womanhood, to take them to the spot where their boys are sleeping beneath the little white crosses?


None Too Much

Down in Connecticut, says the Boston Post, the courts seem determined to do what they can to end the pernicious activities of the automobile thieves who flourish there as everywhere else. As earnest of this intent, one Walters, the recognized leader of a gang of accomplished snatchers of motor cars who have stolen $30,000 worth of the machines within a short time, was given a sentence of twenty-three years and nine months in prison. An accomplice drew fourteen years. The first mentioned is said to be a record sentence in Connecticut for this particular offense.

It is a record that should be emulated by other courts.

—Saturday Blade, Chicago, Feb. 28, 1920, p. 6.

Marches Well at 95

1900

The oldest veteran who marched in the G. A. R. parade at Chicago recently was William Taylor of the Fourteenth Wisconsin infantry. He marched over the entire route without facing any ill effects from the exercise. He is 95 years old and a veteran of three wars, having, taking part in the war with the Blackfoot Indians, the Mexican war and the civil war. He is a member of the La Crosse post and is as lively as some of the young boys of 60.


Bees and Peaches

One of the most peculiar suits at law ever brought before any court is soon to be tried in Van Buren county, Michigan, between two neighbors and old friends. One of the men, H. D. Burrell of South Haven, keeps about sixty colonies of bees. The other is a peach grower. A few months ago the latter complained of the former's bees destroying the early Crawford peaches, claming that the bees came into his orchard in large numbers, bit holes in the fruit and rendered it unmarketable for which he demanded $200. Prof. J M. Rankin of the agricultural college and the entomologist of the Agricultural department at Washington will be called as expert witnesses by the defense in a suit for damages.


Galveston Relief

Little has been said, and probably as little thought, of the beneficent work done by the railroads in aiding and promoting the measures set on foot for the relief of stricken Galveston. Thousands of refugees from that city received free transportation to any part of the country, and immense quantities of supplies were rushed forward without charge. This ready response to the cry of human needs characterized all the great railway systems of the country, the express, telegraph and telephone companies. The cash value of the services thus rendered is as impossible to estimate as the amount of human suffering and misery they helped to alleviate.

Secluded Veteran Dies After Five Years of Leprosy

1910

Badger Leper Dies

Passes Away After Five Long Years of Affliction

Lived Life of Seclusion in Building Set Apart for Him at the National Soldiers' Home In Milwaukee.

Milwaukee, Wis. — Albert S. O'Gorman is dead. Milwaukee's leper, after nearly five years of retreat in a little brick house on the grounds of the Soldiers' home, is no more. Death came quietly. It was the gradual dissolution of a body wasted by disease, that could no longer find strength to meet the daily strain demanded of it.

O'Gorman was a soldier. He served many years in the regular army, seeing service throughout the east and west. He joined the ranks when the war with Spain broke out, and was one of the foremost in Cuba and the Philippines. It was while with the army in the islands that he contracted the disease which brought his death.

Upon his return from war, O'Gorman entered the regular service in various army posts. Then he was taken ill. He asked a pension, and permission to enter a soldiers' home. The request was readily granted. A monthly income of $72 was allowed him by the government. He was ordered to the Milwaukee national home.

Then, and not till then, did O'Gorman learn the true character of his malady. He was examined by staff physicians, who diagnosed his disease as leprosy. There was no help for him, they said, and preparations were made to arrange for his comfort during his lifetime.

In a corner of the grounds a small brick house, once the home of one of the officials, was set aside for him. It was a two-story structure, with three rooms — a living room, a kitchen and a bedroom. Furniture and books, utensils and regulation clothing were furnished him, and he settled down to live the life of a recluse during the remainder of his days.

That was five years ago. During the intervening time, O'Gorman lived almost happily. Two of his daily meals he prepared himself on the cook stove in his little kitchen. Each day an orderly brought his dinner to him. Tobacco was supplied in abundance. Papers and books were plentiful. He was a deeply religious character, and spent much time reading the Bible, sitting on the low steps of his dwelling, basking in the sun.

To look at the man, one would not realize that he was the victim of the most horrible of diseases. He was inclined to a pleasant personality. None of the horror or fear of the evident indications of leprosy were shown.

O'Gorman suffered especially during the winter time. Cold weather, he complained, increased the steady aches and pains to which he was subjected. During last winter, he failed slowly but steadily. Spring came, and he rallied slightly; but his system was too far gone, and the convalescence proved only temporarily.

O'Gorman was born in Ireland in 1856 It was in 1874 that he came to the United States. He settled near St. Paul, Minn., and it was from there that he was recruited into the regular army.

The case of the patient attracted much attention throughout the country. He was one of two individuals in the United States afflicted with the plague.

Several times the state department and the secretary of war considered transferring his case from Milwaukee, but there were no leper colonies where he might be sent, and it was decided finally, that he could be best cared for in the little brick building in which he made his home.

—Suburbanite Economist, Chicago, Aug. 26, 1910.

Ill Health Drives Soldier to Suicide

Pennsylvania, 1920

Using a stocking garter as a noose, Stewart C. Russell, a World War veteran, committed suicide Saturday night at the home of his wife's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Sanford O. Metz, near Orrtanna. Worry over continued ill health is believed to have been the cause for the deed.

Russell, who had served overseas during the war and won his lieutenant's commission on the day of the armistice, had left the family only twenty minutes before his wife found the dead body lying on the bed, the garter around his neck and fastened to an army belt which he had flung over the bedpost.

His home was in Pontiac, Michigan. He was in Camp Colt, Gettysburg in 1917, and married Miss Gladys Metz, an Adams county school teacher at that time. After his return from the war, the Red Cross had been interested in his condition and he had been promised an operation in the hope that it would relieve his suffering. A military funeral was held on Wednesday.

–New Oxford Item, New Oxford, PA, Dec. 9, 1920, p. 4.

Gettysburg Field of Battle Forever Consecrated

1907

At Gettysburg

Field of Battle Is Forever Consecrated to the Highest Ideals of American Valor.

See Naples and die!" wrote an enthusiast, and gave a new vogue to a moribund old world city by a sententious saying. But to the American whose soul is alive to patriotic emotion, a more fitting exhortation would be, see Gettysburg and live! And so seeing, live to be consecrated anew to American ideals. Realize and drink in from that historic fount the immortal lesson of "what they did here," that the nation might live — a grand object lesson, made manifest so that he that runs may read by its 600 monuments and tablets dedicated there to American valor.

A thrilling page it is that may be read in these silent yet speaking symbols which mark the various positions held by the 640 organizations that fiercely contended for victory during those fervid July days of '63. And punctuating the long lines of marble and granite memorials that thickly strew the picturesquely diversified field imposingly stand out the colossal bronze images of the leading generals in the commanding stations each occupied.

All the historic landmarks, too, are there to-day. Away to the west the Lutheran seminary, still standing like a sentinel on the outpost, round which the waves of battle raged and spumed and from the cupola of which Reynolds and Buford watched Hill's advance debouching from the woods on either side of the Chambersburg pike; and, just beyond, the undulating plain and McPherson's wood, the scene and altar of sacrifice whereon the valiant first corps of Meade's army unstintedly poured out its libation of blood. To the east and south, Cemetery hill and its prolonged ridge, along which stand out those never to be effaced features of the landscape — the national cemetery, with its 3,575 graves of union dead, the clump of trees or "high water mark of the rebellion," whence Pickett's braves were hurled back in disaster and death; the "bloody angle," and the peach orchard, which season after season renews itself in blossom and fruit; the wheat field, yearly sown to the same crop, but no longer yielding its "harvest of death"; grim Devil's Den, a rocky, wood-tangled maze to-day as it was and has ever been since the red Indian and savage beast sought it for their lair; the same wooded heights of Little and Big Roundtop, partly denuded, yet with many surviving ancient trees scarred and broken and torn by solid shot and shell, or trunks pimpled by many bullets, but fruitful yet with leafy life.

Vanished only are the mangled corpses of the slain, the rushing columns of struggling foeman. the blazing lines, the crash of musketry and cannon's deafening roar, the dying groans and frantic, swelling cheers. With all these marvelously preserved vestiges of the battle still defining its varying fortunes, and with the graphic story of the guides, very little exercise of the imagination is needed even to a stranger, none at all to the veteran who fought there to reconstruct the scene, and once seen render its realization vividly impressed forever on the mind.

Note About Some of Our Town Folk

Stevens Point, Wisconsin, May 22, 1907

Concert size cylinder records, six inches in length, containing the latest songs and most popular music, just received by Reton Bros. & Co.

Pupils of Miss Helen Marie Hein will give a piano and violin recital at her home at 8 o'clock this evening. Fifteen members of her advanced class will participate in the program.

Mrs. John Hawn, who has been a patient at St. Mary's hospital in Milwaukee during the past few weeks, is steadily improving and it is expected that she can return home within another week.

Marty Lee returned Sunday morning from Crystal Falls, Mich., after an absence of several months. Marty will remain here during the summer, being employed at his trade as a plumber, and will catch for the local base ball club.

A spark from a passing locomotive or from the foundry furnace ignited a moulding cast in the yards adjoining the John Rice foundry at about 4 o'clock Saturday afternoon. The department was summoned, but no damage resulted.

A richly furnished, rubber tired and leather upholstered opera coach has been added to the livery equipment of John W. Archibald, the enterprising Strongs avenue hustler.

Henry Coll, a Chicago architect, is engaged in preparing the plans for the proposed Polish brewery, and it is expected they will be ready for the contractors in a short time.

Jas. A. Bremmer, the one armed veteran of the civil war who has been in poor health all winter, suffering with stomach trouble, left here last Monday for Minneapolis to take treatment in a hospital. It is hoped that Mr. Bremmer will return fully recovered.

An enormous log drive, the largest of many years, in charge of forty men, was started at Tomahawk on Monday, May 13th, the logs being destined for Merrill, Wausau and other points along the Wisconsin river.

E. O. Westerfield, of Hatley, visited here Friday and Saturday with his brother-in-law, Dr. W. H. Wilson. The latter spent Sunday at Hatley and secured a nice string of brook trout during a few hours fishing.

—The Gazette, Stevens Point, Wisconsin, May 22, 1907.

Under the Blossoms of May — Memorial Day poetry

1907

Under the Blossoms of May
(By Chart A. Pitt, Bellingham, Wash.)

When the drum's lone beat sounds the "Last Retreat,"
To the star-sown fields o'er head,
And the veterans grey, are lain away,
In the city of the dead;
O'er their chambered town the sunshine gleams,
And the spring time breezes play,
Peaceful their slumbers, and happy their dreams,
Under the blossoms of May.

The stars look down o'er their silent town,
Where the marble shafts gleam white;
And shadows dim, come drifting in,
From the stronghold of the night.
No bugle's blare can wake them there,
Nor banners flaunting gay,
There's no "measured tread" in the streets of the dead,
Under the blossoms of May.

—The Gazette, Stevens Point, Wisconsin, May 22, 1907

French Girl Inspects 20 U.S. Suitors

1920

Frankly Admits She Is Here to Hunt Husband — Has Discarded Eighty as Unsuitable

NEW YORK, N.Y. — Twenty times Mlle. Susanne Boitard watched an American officer get down on his knees before her and heard him propose marriage to her.

And just twenty times the chic French girl answered, "Oh, Monsieur, but you must wait! When the war is over we shall see. It may be ——"

All this happened in the battle-scarred days of 1918 at Mlle. Boitard's magnificent home near Amiens, France, wherein many Yank officers were quartered during the war. And now she is in the United States looking over her score of prospective husbands, and has already discarded eight as unsuitable. Mademoiselle frankly admits that she is hunting a mate and that she believes marriage is the greatest ambition that a woman can achieve.

"So why shouldn't I come to America to pick the best one of the twenty who have asked my hand in marriage?" demands the French girl.

Is Pretty, Rich, Educated

It cannot be denied that Mlle. Boitard has qualifications for marriage. She is pretty, perfumed and excessively feminine. She is 24, rich and well educated. She is brilliant and vivacious. She is the picture of health and beauty.

"And I want the best husband in the world!" Calmly announces Mlle. Boitard.

On the subject of husbands, and American husbands in particular, she admits that her U.S. suitors were great fighters, but she has some objections to them as prospective mates. They spend too much, she avers, and they are poor — ah, oui! — very poor judges of good wine.

"All these men who proposed marriage to me," declares mademoiselle, in her charming English, with a trace of French accent, "lived at our chateau near Amiens. They drank our wine and they ate at our table. They were very enthusiastic over the chateau at Amiens and our home in Paris, for they had every possible luxury there. Now isn't it entirely possible that some of these twenty officers may have loved my luxurious home more than they did me?

"It is only reasonable that I should want to see how my American suitors live in their own homes. I do not want to be too critical about them, but I find some faults in the American national character.

"What has displeased me about American men more than any other one thing is that they are so stupid and reckless about spending money. They eat and drink and tip in expensive places as if they were millionaires. I find it very unpleasant. They want to appear rich, and that surprises and disappoints me.

Poor Judges of Wine

"And I do not like the American way of drinking. The men I know seemed to drink just for the sake of drinking, without the least appreciation of good wine. With one of them I am sure that it would have been all the same to him if he was drinking perfume.

"The American business man works too hard. He doesn't take any time for his wife and his home. I want my husband to work, but I also want him to make time for theaters, art, horses and charity affairs. I don't want to have to think in the dollar sign."

Back in New York from one inspection tour, Mlle. Boitard seemed a trifle disillusioned. She had seen and discarded eight of the twenty who wanted to marry her.

"There is one chance in particular, and maybe two or three others, that I may yet marry an American man, in spite of the eight I have discarded," says the French girl, dreamily. "I am thinking of one officer from Kentucky and another from St. Louis. But I will visit these cities and will find out for myself."

—The Saturday Blade, Chicago, March 20, 1920, page 1.

Civil War Veterans Entertained at Tea

Oakland, California, 1921

Girls of '61-'65 and veterans of the Civil War were entertained at tea this afternoon by the fraternal service council, Sons and Daughters of Washington, at their quarters in the Pacific building. Charles Secombe and Felix Schreiber gave brief talks. A program of music was rendered by Miss Adelaide Jacobson and Clement F. Rowlands.

The following committees were in charge: Reception committee, Mrs. A. Lathrop, Mrs. E. M. Abell, Mrs. C. J. Snyder, Mrs. A. Robert, Miss Winifred MacCowan, Miss Gladys Snyder; program committee, Mrs. C. Sweeney, Mrs. Frances Wood, Mrs. M. Goebbels, Miss Mabel Hoffman, Miss Grace McCoy and Mrs. M. L. Allen.

A reception in compliment to the Grand Army of the Republic is being planned.

Dr. Aurelia Henry Rinehardt will be the principal speaker at the Memorial Day exercises in Chabot Hall, May 29.

—Oakland Tribune, Oakland, California, May 17, 1921, page 21.

Germany Offers Canine War Veterans for Sale

1921

BERLIN, Aug. 27.—The German government is selling its war dogs. It has a large number of wounded and disabled canines for sale and has offered them to the public at prices to be fixed by a valuation commission composed of veterinarians.

Many of the dogs are said to be too old for war work and others have been sick so long army officials have despaired of their ever being able to engage in active service again, should such service be required.

The public, which appears greatly attached to the lively and ferocious "police dog," has, nevertheless, displayed little interest in these canine veterans.

—The Indianapolis Star, August 28, 1921, page 20.

General Sherman, Mark Twain Address Crowds from Train

1912

SET TWAIN AT "WORK"

HOW GEN. SHERMAN MADE HUMORIST PAY FARE

Author Compelled to Pose as Famous Soldier While the Latter Smoked Contentedly in His Private Car

Albert Bigelow Paine tells of the time when Mark Twain on his way to West Point to deliver an address found himself in the same train with General Sherman, who had been attending a dinner in Hartford.

"A pleasant incident followed, which Clemens himself used to relate. Gen. Sherman attended the banquet and Secretary of War Robert Lincoln. Next morning Clemens and Twichell were leaving for West Point, where they were to address the military students, guests on the same special train on which Lincoln and Sherman had their private car. This car was at the end of the train, and when the two passengers reached the station Sherman and Lincoln were out on the rear platform addressing the multitude. Clemens and Twichell went and, taking seats, waited for them.

"As the speakers finished the train started, but they still remained outside, bowing and waving to the assembled citizens, so that it was under good headway before they came in. Sherman came up to Clemens, who sat smoking unconcernedly.

"'Well,' he said, 'who told you you could go in this car?'

"'Nobody,' said Clemens.

"'Do you expect to pay extra fare?' asked Sherman.

"'No,' said Clemens; 'I didn't expect to pay any fare.'

"'O, you don't! Then you'll work your way.'

"Sherman took off his coat and military hat and made Clemens put them on.

"'Now,' said he, 'whenever the train stops you get out on the platform and represent me and make a speech.'

"It was not long before the train stopped and Clemens, according to orders, stepped out on the rear platform and bowed to the crowd. There was a cheer at the sight of his military uniform. Then the cheer waned, became a murmur of uncertainty, followed by an undertone of discussion. Presently somebody said:

"'Say, that ain't Sherman; that's Mark Twain,' which brought another cheer.

"Then Sherman had to come out, too, and the result was that both spoke. They kept this up at the different stations and sometimes Robert Lincoln came out with them, and when there was time all three spoke, much the satisfaction of their audiences." —Harper's Weekly.

—The Daily Commonwealth, Fond du Lac, Wisconsin, December 17, 1912, page 2.

Civil War Veteran Starves to Death

1912

TOO PROUD TO BEG; STARVES TO DEATH

By the United Press Associations.

Chicago, Ill., Dec. 17.—Harry West, 70, a veteran of the civil war, was found starved to death in a little room in a lodging house today. In his hand was clasped a button of the Grand Army of the Republic. He had been too proud to ask help.


YOUTHFUL SKATER DIES IN LAKE WINNEBAGO

Menasha, Wis., Dec. 17.—Paul Marx 11 years old, was drowned in Lake Winnebago when he skated into an air hole. Nothing was known of the accident until twenty-four hours later when a boy companion who was with the Marx boy at the time notified Mr. and Mrs. Marx. The body has been recovered.


CRIPPLE DROWNS

Necedah, Wis., Dec. 17. — Charles McGuire a cripple, 17 years old, was drowned through the ice on the Yellow river. He was pushing himself about the ice on a sled and it is supposed crashed through thin ice.

—The Daily Commonwealth, Fond du Lac, Wisconsin, December 17, 1912, page 1.

Her Beauty Fatal, This Girl Admits

1920

"TOO PRETTY TO BE GOOD WIFE," BRIDE DECLARES

Sued by Soldier-husband, She Says Her Looks Spoiled Her Wedded Career

NEW YORK, N. Y. -- Good-looking girls are warned to be careful in a letter introduced as evidence in the divorce suit brought in Patterson, N. J., by Sergt. James W. McGlade. The letter was written by McGlade's wife, Anita, who did not contest his suit. Francis Scott, special master in chancery, recommended that the decree be granted.

The letter, which admitted that the writer had left her husband to become the "pampered doll" of a millionaire oil speculator, added: "My beauty was fatal, my good looks a detriment to my being a good wife."

She ended with the hope that her case would be an example to other girls with good looks.

Testimony showed that the McGlades were married in 1911. On March 26, 1916, Mrs. McGlade left her child with her grandmother "to mind for a few hours." The following day she sent a telegram, saying she was sorry, but would not come home again for some time, and asking that no search be made for her.

McGlade was a member of the 5th New Jersey Regiment and went to France.

In March, 1918, while he was abroad, Mrs. Emma Monks, the grandmother, received a telegram from Mrs. McGlade saying she was about to commit suicide. It was followed by a letter from "a friend" confirming the suicide and enclosing the letter written by Mrs. McGlade which figured in the suit.

Sergeant McGlade learned on his return from France that his wife had fled with an oil speculator from Gary, Ind. He started divorce proceedings on the ground of desertion. Mrs. McGlade acknowledged service of the complaint, but did not defend the suit.

Custody of the 6-year-old child was given to the father.

--The Saturday Blade, Chicago, March 27, 1920, page 2.

They Kiss in 1862 and Marry in 1920

1920

LEXINGTON, Ky., March 25. -- A romance which began in 1862 culminated in the marriage of Edward F. Haley, a Confederate veteran, and Mrs. Joseph Bales, a wealthy widow, who says she is a third cousin of President Wilson.

Fifty-eight years ago Haley kissed his cousin, Mattie Maupin, then a 7-year-old girl, and marched away to war. The girl often wondered what had become of "Cousin Ed," who did not return.

Recently there was a knock at her door and she was greeted by an old man who said he was E. F. Haley, now 74 years old.

He proposed marriage. Mrs. Bales at first was reluctant, but when Haley returned with a license with both names inscribed on it, she agreed to marry.

--The Saturday Blade, Chicago, March 27, 1920, page 1.