Our base-ball friends in New York, who had been looking for us for three

days, had been early apprised that the 'Adriatic' had arrived off Sandy
Hook, and, boarding the little steamer 'Starin' and the tug 'George
Wood,' they came down the bay, two hundred strong, to meet us
Our base-ball friends in New York, who had been looking for us for three
days, had been early apprised that the 'Adriatic' had arrived off Sandy
Hook, and, boarding the little steamer 'Starin' and the tug 'George
Wood,' they came down the bay, two hundred strong, to meet us. With the
aid of 'a leedle Sherman pand,' steam whistles and lusty throats they
made noise enough to bring us all on deck in a hurry. As the distance
between the vessels grew shorter we could distinguish among others the
faces of Marcus Meyer, W. W. Kelly, John W. Russel, Digby Bell, DeWolf
Hopper, Col. W. T. Coleman and many others, not least among them being
my old father, who had come on from Marshalltown to be among the first
to welcome myself and my wife back to America, and who, as soon as the
'Starin' was made fast, climbed on deck and gave us both a hug that
would have done credit to the muscular energy of a grizzly bear, but who
was no happier to see us than we were to see him and to learn that all
was well with our dear ones. I"m not sure but the next thing that he did
was to propose a game of poker to some of the boys, but if he did not it
was simply because there was too much excitement going on. That evening
we were the guests of Col. McCaull at Palmer"s Theater, where De-Wolf
Hopper, Digby Bell and other prominent comic opera stars were playing in
'The May Queen.' The boxes that we occupied that night were handsomely
decorated with flags and bunting, while from the proscenium arch hung an
emblem of all nations, a gilt eagle and shield, with crossed bats and a
pair of catcher"s gloves and a catcher"s mask.

In a play by Mr

In a play by Mr. James Bernard Fagan, _The Prayer of the Sword_, we have
a much clearer example of an inadequate obstacle. A youth named Andrea
has been brought up in a monastery, and destined for the priesthood; but
his tastes and aptitudes are all for a military career. He is, however,
on the verge of taking his priestly vows, when accident calls him forth
into the world, and he has the good fortune to quell a threatened
revolution in a romantic Duchy, ruled over by a duchess of surpassing
loveliness. With her he naturally falls in love; and the tragedy lies,
or ought to lie, in the conflict between this earthly passion and his
heavenly calling and election. But the author has taken pains to make
the obstacle between Andrea and Ilaria absolutely unreal. The fact that
Andrea has as yet taken no irrevocable vow is not the essence of the
matter. Vow or no vow, there would have been a tragic conflict if Andrea
had felt absolutely certain of his calling to the priesthood, and had
defied Heaven, and imperilled his immortal soul, because of his
overwhelming passion. That would have been a tragic situation; but the
author had carefully avoided it. From the very first--before Andrea had
ever seen Ilaria--it had been impressed upon us that he had no priestly
vocation. There was no struggle in his soul between passion and duty;
there was no struggle at all in his soul. His struggles are all with
external forces and influences; wherefore the play, which a real
obstacle might have converted into a tragedy, remained a sentimental
romance--and is forgotten.

"Well," he smiled, "that would be an improvement on most Academy

titles
"Well," he smiled, "that would be an improvement on most Academy
titles. An ordinary artist would simply name it 'Young Gentleman by
Trout-Stream.' Haven"t you often gone through a gallery picturing all
sorts of dramatic meanings in paintings, only to have your illusions
shattered by the catalogue?"

She said nothing in reply, and as if by tacit agreement they started

back along the path
She said nothing in reply, and as if by tacit agreement they started
back along the path. He did not break the silence, feeling that words
might be provocative of a retort that would dispel the growing feeling
of mutual confidence.

There in the smoke and the choking dust Austin Selwyn shook in the grip

of the greatest emotion he had ever known
There in the smoke and the choking dust Austin Selwyn shook in the grip
of the greatest emotion he had ever known. A girl was buried--a
fraction of a minute might mean her life. With hot breath and pulses
on fire, he led his unknown men through the choking ruins to where one
small, insignificant life was imprisoned.

What then? Are you afraid of being caught? But I told you, if anything

should happen, I"ll take the guilt on myself
What then? Are you afraid of being caught? But I told you, if anything
should happen, I"ll take the guilt on myself. Don"t you believe me?

In the darkest corner stands Someone in Gray called He

In the darkest corner stands Someone in Gray called He. The candle in
his hand is now no longer than it is thick. The wax is running over a
little. The stump burns with a reddish, flickering light, and casts a
red sheen on His stony face and chin.

A third theme to be handled with the greatest caution, if at all, is

that of heroic self-sacrifice
A third theme to be handled with the greatest caution, if at all, is
that of heroic self-sacrifice. Not that self-sacrifice, like revenge, is
an outworn passion. It still rages in daily life; but no audience of
average intelligence will to-day accept it with the uncritical
admiration which it used to excite in the sentimental dramas of last
century. Even then--even in 1869--Meilhac and Halevy, in their
ever-memorable _Froufrou_, showed what disasters often result from it;
but it retained its prestige with the average playwright--and with some
who were above the average--for many a day after that. I can recall a
play, by a living English author, in which a Colonel in the Indian Army
pleaded guilty to a damning charge of cowardice rather than allow a lady
whom he chivalrously adored to learn that it was her husband who was the
real coward and traitor. He knew that the lady detested her husband; he
knew that they had no children to suffer by the husband"s disgrace; he
knew that there was a quite probable way by which he might have cleared
his own character without casting any imputation on the other man. But
in a sheer frenzy of self-sacrifice he blasted his own career, and
thereby inflicted far greater pain upon the woman he loved than if he
had told the truth or suffered it to be told. And twenty years
afterwards, when the villain was dead, the hero still resolutely refused
to clear his own character, lest the villain"s widow should learn the
truth about her wholly unlamented husband. This was an extravagant and
childish case; but the superstition of heroic self-sacrifice still
lingers in certain quarters, and cannot be too soon eradicated. I do not
mean, of course, that self-sacrifice is never admirable, but only that
it can no longer be accepted as a thing inherently noble, apart from its
circumstances and its consequences. An excellent play might be written
with the express design of placing the ethics of self-sacrifice in their
true light. Perhaps the upshot might be the recognition of the simple
principle that it is immoral to make a sacrifice which the person
supposed to benefit by it has no right to accept.

So disgusted were the visitors and their followers over the showing that

we had made in spite of their best endeavors that they at once proceeded
to arrange another game for the next day, cancelling another date ahead
in order to do so
So disgusted were the visitors and their followers over the showing that
we had made in spite of their best endeavors that they at once proceeded
to arrange another game for the next day, cancelling another date ahead
in order to do so.

'Now, boys,' said Jonas, 'you have got into a foolish and wicked

quarrel
'Now, boys,' said Jonas, 'you have got into a foolish and wicked
quarrel. I have heard it all. Now you may do as you please--you may let
me settle it, or I will lead you home to your mother, and tell her about
it, and let her settle it.'

Then the mother turns upon the daughter"s stony self-righteousness, and

pours forth her sordid history in such a way as to throw a searchlight
on the conditions which make such histories possible; until, exhausted
by her outburst, she says, 'Oh, dear! I do believe I am getting sleepy
after all,' and Vivie replies, 'I believe it is I who will not be able
to sleep now
Then the mother turns upon the daughter"s stony self-righteousness, and
pours forth her sordid history in such a way as to throw a searchlight
on the conditions which make such histories possible; until, exhausted
by her outburst, she says, 'Oh, dear! I do believe I am getting sleepy
after all,' and Vivie replies, 'I believe it is I who will not be able
to sleep now.' Mr. Shaw, we see, is at pains to emphasize his peripety.

He produced a silver match-box, and feeling his way carefully down the

slippery steps, handed it to the stranger
He produced a silver match-box, and feeling his way carefully down the
slippery steps, handed it to the stranger. Acknowledging the action
with a murmur of thanks, the fellow took it, and making a protection
with his cape, struck a match to light his pipe. It flickered for a
moment and flared up, illuminating his features grotesquely.

Again there was a silence fraught with such intensity that Selwyn

thought the very beating of his pulses could be heard
Again there was a silence fraught with such intensity that Selwyn
thought the very beating of his pulses could be heard. At last Lord
Durwent rose, and with an air of deepest respect placed the medal in
the hands of his wife. Her theatricalism was mute in a sorrow that was
free from shame.

After his release by the Chicago Club he drifted back East, where he

pitched for a time in some of the minor leagues
After his release by the Chicago Club he drifted back East, where he
pitched for a time in some of the minor leagues. Later on he was given
another trial by the Chicagos, but his work proved unsatisfactory, he
having outlived the days of his usefulness in the pitching line. After
that he again went East, where he died several years ago.

Remsen was a fine fielder and a fast base-runner, but his weak point was

in hitting
Remsen was a fine fielder and a fast base-runner, but his weak point was
in hitting. He was a good thrower, too, though I beat him in a match at
Hartford by covering 127 yards and 4 inches, a performance that
surprised some people who had wagered their money on his success.

With their voices almost rising to a scream, the chafing Americans

watched the Englishman walk towards the enemy lines
With their voices almost rising to a scream, the chafing Americans
watched the Englishman walk towards the enemy lines. Bullets bit the
ground near his feet, but, untouched, he went on, with the metal monster
following behind. Once he fell, and a hush came over the watchers; but
he rose and limped on. His face pale and grim, Van Derwater moved among
his men, urging them to wait; but they cursed and yelled at the delay.

Equally typical and infinitely more tragic is another postnuptial

peripety--the scene of the mutual confession of Angel Clare and Tess in
Mr
Equally typical and infinitely more tragic is another postnuptial
peripety--the scene of the mutual confession of Angel Clare and Tess in
Mr. Hardy"s great novel. As it stands on the printed page, this scene is
a superb piece of drama. Its greatness has been obscured in the English
theatre by the general unskilfulness of the dramatic version presented.
One magnificent scene does not make a play. In America, on the other
hand, the fine acting of Mrs. Fiske secured popularity for a version
which was, perhaps, rather better than that which we saw in England.

The second day after we arrived at Nice the flower festival took place,

and luckily the weather was almost perfect
The second day after we arrived at Nice the flower festival took place,
and luckily the weather was almost perfect. All the morning for a
distance of some twenty blocks the Avenue des Anglaise, where the battle
of flowers is annually held, the decorators had been busy preparing for
the event, and by afternoon decked in flowers and gaily-colored ribbons,
bunting and flags, the scene that it presented was a brilliant one. By
three o"clock it was crowded with elegant equipages filled with men,
women and flowers, the two former pelting each other with blossoms to
their heart"s content, the spectators in the adjacent windows and on the
sidewalks taking part in the mimic war. Conspicuous in the party was the
Prince of Wales and his friends, among which were several of our fair
countrywomen, the whole party distributing their flowers right and left
with reckless-prodigality. The number of handsome women, the splendid
street decorations, and the abundance of flowers that were scattered
about in lavish profusion made a brilliant picture and one that it is
not to be wondered that tourists journey from all parts of the continent
to witness.

'I will call him,' said Rollo

'I will call him,' said Rollo. So he turned round, and kneeled up upon
the seat, so that he could look out behind the chaise, for the back
curtain was up. Lucy did the same, but Jonas was not to be seen. They
looked a little longer, and presently saw him coming along round a curve
in the road. They beckoned to him, and as he rode up, they saw he had a
bush in his hand. He came up to the side of the chaise, and handed it to
Rollo. It was a large blueberry-bush, covered with beautiful ripe blue
berries. Rollo took them, and admired them very much; and at first he
was going to divide them between Lucy and himself; but they concluded,
on the whole, to send them forward to his mother. Jonas told them the
mountain before them _was_ Benalgon, and rode on to carry the
blueberry-bush to the other chaise. Presently he came back, bringing it
with him, except a small sprig which Rollo"s mother had taken off. The
rest she had sent back to the children.

And then the woman who was his wife lost her own yoke of self-restraint

in solicitude for him
And then the woman who was his wife lost her own yoke of self-restraint
in solicitude for him. Timidly, hesitatingly at first, she invaded the
precincts of his mind. With subtle persistence, yet never seeming to
force her way, she wove her personality about his like a web of silken
thread. Her purity of thought, her innate artistry, her depth of
feeling, played on his spirit like dew upon the parched earth.