PS 3545 .144 F3 1912 ■ mm .■ !'4'.:r.*'".w.. (; V 1/» mm thereby lessening my own responsibility. It is cer- tain that I furnished the unfortunate creature the cause for his desperation. I ought also to confess that I felt a sense of profound relief when he accepted the only means apparent to his limited understanding of freeing himself from his dilemma. But what was I to do? When a man has an elephant on his hands he should be judged with a kindly consideration for the awkwardness of his situation. \* 2S u*\ i««(C<«i>» My elephant was de- cidedly more trying than the average variety, for the reason that he was not metaphorical, but real. What I mean is, that I am not speaking in figurative language about some officious friend or troublesome relative, but about a genuine Asiatic elephant, Ulysses by name, who came into my possession several years ago, and of whom I have but recently managed to rid myself. Physically he was a well-developed specimen, having no i special characteristics to distinguish him from the rest of his kind. Intel- lectually, however, he was a species of monster, and I was the unfortunate Frankenstein that was responsible for his exist- ence. The purchase was effected by a series of complicated negotiations, carried on in my behalf by a half breed elephant trainer, known as Jerry Rhahob, with the owner of Ulysses. Had I under- taken the job myself I might have found an *:< reputation of knowing more than any man in Madras about the habits and characteristics of elephants and the means by which they could be most successfully trained. For some time he had been in charge of the yards where the animals owned by the British government were prepared for service in war or road building. Before setting out for my bungalow, I mTT Several years ago I had a very intelligent elephant here in the yards whom I employed to build stone walls. He became marvelously expert at it, picking out just the right shaped rocks to fill the spaces with the best economy. The stones are irregular in form, and you can imagine that no small degree of skill is required. On one occasion he stood near watching me while I endeavored to teach a younger elephant how the work was to be done. I built several feet of wall, m WW 1 but the job was not successful one — not, at least, when compared with what Budan could do. Whenever I picked up the wrong stone he gave a snort, and in- dicated a better one with his trunk. At last he could stand it no longer, and brushing me aside, took hold of the work himself, and soon had the young one taught. After that he made no secret of his contempt for me. I saw that he was ruining my standing with the rest of the herd, and mi I had to send him away." This story would have seemed quite ridiculous to me if I had not heard many others more wonderful pass current without question, and had I not often seen elephants employed in Madras at work which in America would be assigned only to artisans of considerable skill. "Believe anything you are told about the intel- ligence of an elephant," said a traveler from India to me once, before I visited that country; "the 2 fife flSi I @8P Qm ?%• 5Ks3K Vi» w. % V 5^P' chances are it is true. I engaged an ex- perienced mahout, or driver, an intelligent native by the name of Akbar. I determined, however, to make use of his services just as little as possible, in order that Ulysses might learn to depend upon myself alone. I attended personally to the matter of food and drink, and took pains that my protege should receive no favors from the hand of anyone else. I soon learned the things that gave him pleasure, and put myself to no little trouble to gratify him on every possible occasion. I continued this process, combining with it instruc- tion in such small services as "house elephants" in India are always expected to perform, until I saw that I had completely gained his confidence and affection. During this period of his tutelage, Ulysses would have trusted and obeyed me to any extent. I think he would willingly have laid down his life or endured torture for my wM Wfim if If ft lw. ^9 1^ 1 4 1 V£*j\:I'/. s\W£ mz lM» ?Ai sake. Nothing made him happier than to be near me as I sat under the banyan tree in my garden, smoking and reading. When I opened his stall in the mornings and called to him to come out, he fairly quivered with joy at the sound of my voice, and gave vent to his satisfaction at seeing me by shrill trum- petings. His devotion was annoying at times, and one of the first difficul- ties that I experienced was in teaching him to be less demonstrative. It is a fact, which most readers of this narrative have proved for themselves by actual ex- periment, that animals may be taught the meaning of words. An intelligent dog, for example possesses a con- siderab 1 vocabulary. I propose J to undertake a systematic course of instruction in the English language with Ulysses and to ascertain to what extent he was capable of acquiring our vernacular. Whenever he learned a new word I made a note I '«•»: rs. *> §iP" of it in a book, and by constant review contrived to fix it in his memory. As soon as he began to comprehend what my purpose was, as he did after I had been laboring with him a couple of weeks, he became very eager to learn, and greatly increased the rapidity of the work. The process of teaching him nouns was simple and easy. Each day I would produce several new articles, tell him their names, and have him hand them to me as I Wi LC«C<«J>*» called for them. I taught him to say "yes" and "no" by the waving of his trunk, and made him appreciate that he was to use that means of signi- fying to me whether he understood me or not. After I was well into the work, the morning lesson would go somewhat as follows: "Are you ready for your lesson, Ulysses?" Ulysses lifts his trunk affirmatively. Although he does not understand "lesson, "the word "ready" Wii m ma I i 5 IS is clear to quent use. I hold out a ball, a new object. "This is a ball, Ulysses; a ball." I repeat it several times, until the sound has fastened itself in his mem- ory. Then I lay it on the table with a pipe, a cup and a book. I ask for them, one after another, and he hands them to me. I add numerous other objects, the names of which he has already learned, and thus combine review with advance instruction. Together with the noun "ball" I teach him the verbs "roll," "throw" and "drop," and perhaps an adverb or two like "fast" or "slowly," and an adjec- tive, "round." Sometimes there is an awkward hitch and I have to abandon the attempt to teach him some particular word, referring to it again when his vocabulary has been increased in some other direction. A certain point once passed, it was surprising with what rapidity I pro- ceeded. One word led to m 2 i i*V*Yv mfii M \m if# % y another, a number of words to phrases and these to complete senten- ces. I finally dropped into a way of talking to him about the objects with which we were working, much as I would have talked to a bright child. I was conscious at times that only a small part of what I was saying was understood, but it accustomed him to hear- ing the words that he knew, used in association with others to form complete statements. In my search for objects r«5^K to use in the instruction of Ulysses I happened upon a lump of chalk. With this I sketched various things on a smooth plank of dark wood, and found that they were readily recognized by my pupil. From this I sud- denly conceived a new idea. I sent to Madras and had a large, firm blackboard made and ordered chalk and erasers. Then I began a systematic and determined effort to teach Ulysses to read and write. There is one element I m 41 1 '®m a narrative of results, and that is time. I had been steadily at work with Ulysses for nearly a year before I began to use the blackboard, and after I adopted that assistant it was many months ere important results began to show themselves. Any one who has ever labored with a well-meaning but obtuse pupil, will appre- ciate how slow and discouraging at times my work must have been. He will also understand how the progress, trifling, when considered day by day, amounted to a good deal when viewed in the aggregate. I readily taught Ulysses to hold the chalk in the fingers of his proboscis, and to mark with it upon the blackboard. He understood that he was to imitate, as nearly as possible, the marks that I made. In this way I taught him to print the letters of the English alphabet in clumsy char- acters several inches in l w wm ^v> 3^ '"W size. Gradually he became more expert in making them, and learned the names by which they were called. It was a great triumph for me when I first succeeded in getting him to write the letters of his own name as I called them off, and saw myself the proud possessor of an elephant who could write his autograph, perhaps the first of his species that ever performed that enlightened but compro- mising feat. All this was easy enough, but to make him a? !«<««•>»» comprehend that certain groups of these peculiar marks formed pictures, which were to suggest definite objects to him, was a very different sort of an undertaking. The hitch in the proceedings at this point was so serious that, for a time, I gave up all hope of accomplishing my object. It seemed impos- sible to establish the necessary connection in his mind between the written characters and the spoken work. At last, it suddenly dawned upon him, and he learned (fatal fflh A\lnW/2 v\VS MS If WW 111 it*! I Ill SSS& ,5^ sm S W omen!) the word "book." The acquiring of one word constituted the test in my calculations. That point being gained, the rest was only a question of additional work and continued patience. It was not long before Ulysses could write upon the board the names of most of the objects that had been used in his in- struction thus far, and the verbs that I had taught him in connection with them. To combine these words into sentences was largely a matter of imita- w I CM § *». §§s (it. tion, for he had already come to understand them when so arranged. In a short time we were carrying on long confer- ences, and the vocabulary of Ulysses had increased to the point of embracing most of the words used in daily conversation. With the establishment of this mode of inter-communi- cation, Ulysses was able to explain to me what his difficulties were, and I could proffer more available assistance. I then, for the first time, enjoyed an intimate ffef- mt 6t stag, i «5Ss\vi acquaintance with a brain that was not human. I could look into it and study its character and mode of action. I need not add that the occupa- tion was a fascinating one. Our conversations, which were at first limited to visible actions and con- crete objects, soon strayed into abstractions. The rapidity with which he grasped the analogy between seeing and think- ing, and lifted himself out of the material into the metaphysical plane, astonished me beyond !&5« measure. He possessed an over- ruling sense of logic, keen and penetrat- ing, and yet so swift that it seemed transfigured to intuition. But the most wonderful feature of his intellect was his memory. Now that words were supplied him, as tools with which to conduct his thinking, what were before mere vague impressions, became definite ideas, fixed and everlasting. I soon found that it was necessary to be absolutely accurate in all that I said to him, as he was quick 4 WM •€>?. s73! "'%V to detect any inconsist- ency, and his memory covered the full amount of all that I had said since he had come to have command of the language. For some time we conversed together every day, I talking or writing, and he using the black- board. As print was too slow for practical use, I taught him to write short- hand. One day he made some inquiry of me concerning the novel I happened to have in hand, and I read him several chapters of it. His (S afest f/jM w m delight at gaining so much knowledge in so short a time was unbounded. I discovered that he regard- ed it as authentic history, and hastened to undeceive him. He was greatly shocked to find that anything could be said or written which was not true. This led me into something of a dissertation upon the forms of litera- ture and the canons of taste. He listened with an absorbed interest. The bent of his mind was evidently not practical, but literary and artistic. ^s^§ >••■ i>\*l ?/|yg I'f *. a ^JS> Ulysses' fondness for hearing me read gave me an idea as to a means of freeing myself from the importunities for instruc- tion and discussion to which he was now treating me, and which were be- coming decidedly irksome. I sent Akbar, the mahout, to Madras with a letter to a French oculist. He brought back a large monocle which I had ordered made for the use of my pupil. There was a hole in one of Ulysses' ears, drilled there by some former, less appreciative 1 % !<<<•*»» «<4«»V»!J S\ tlMiVtlRtci immmmia^smMm "Ulysses was now ready to begin his literary researches." mt t««»>rr: owner, through which I passed a light silk cord, allowing the glass to hang conveniently pendant. I had a wooden rack con- structed by a neighboring rayat, who did carpenter work, which held the volume open and at the right altitude. Ulysses was now ready to begin his literary researches independent of my aid. Kneeling before the rack, in which he soon learned to fasten the book himself, he lifted the monocle to his eye, with the fingers trunk, and com- SXIMS I* ft! k>H mfo "%V ff^p' menced to read. At first he proceeded slowly, and was often compelled to summon me to his assist- ance. After I explained to him the use of the dictionary and allowed him to keep one near at hand, this source of annoyance ceased, and he worked away by himself with a steadily increasing ease and rapidity. There was one person who had observed all these proceedings with astonishment and disap- proval. This was Briggs, the English gardener who took care of my place. I think he had an idea that I was violating the laws of the Church of England in some way, I scarcely know how. On one occasion, when I hap- pened to be in Madras, Ulysses discovered, by appealing to him for the meaning of certain words and phrases, that all mortals were not endowed with the same fund of in- formation that I happened to possess. No sooner did he find out that Briggs knew less about such matters than he did <*m sm & w % V himself than he began to treat him with open con- tempt, slowly bringing up his eyeglass and in- specting him with cold hauteur whenever he happened to come in sight. That there helephant," Briggs complained to me, "do treat me most har- rogant, sir. I didn't never expect to come to this 'ere." I spoke to Ulysses about the matter, and re- monstrated with him. "I cannot understand it," he wrote in reply. "I *:< Root of Sufficient Reason to which I found a refer- ence in a volume of essays by Frederic Harrison. He said he never had heard of any such root. Can he not read and talk as you do, and as all mortals do? How does it happen that he is igno- rant of these things?" I explained to him that only a small part of the human race was interested in affairs of the intellect, and that millions of men were still in the condition \\lWAT Aul/txk W5. of unhappy mental blind- ness from which he had so recently emerged. He was aghast at this statement, but it did not tend to re-establish Briggs in his respect. It was now the season of the year when I was accustomed to make a tour among the neighbor- ing coffee plantations, to estimate and bid on the crops. I was not able to take Ulysses with me conveniently, so I left him in the care of Briggs and Akbar. To Briggs I gave the key to my library, L«<<*A»U '€££ffi&S&i SWJ5 !•& ^lNKfi-TOS? mm w*5 fcv. V 8gg^®£^gssmt; « with orders to supply Ulysses with whatever he might demand, and I pre- pared for my pupil's use a catalogue of all the books in my collection. The library was chiefly made up of works of history, philosophy and criticism, admirably suited to the special tastes of Ulysses. My absence lasted during a period of nearly three months, and on my return I found Ulysses almost in a condition of "must," or insanity. He had read all, or nearly all, the books that I had CV*J •0*: placed upon the list, and had gained through that extraordinary memory of his an immense mass of fact and opinion. He was now suffering from intellectual dyspepsia. I consulted him about his troubles, and got in reply an avalanche of questions on every variety of subject. His confidence in my knowledge was, apparent- ly, unlimited. It would have been a source of inexpressible gratification to me if I could have shared it. I was not unmindful of I I as- m •* the fate which had befallen poor Briggs, nevertheless I felt it my duty to help Ulysses out of his diffi- culties. I did not imagine that his questions would occasion me much trouble, and if they should, I thought myself the pos- sessor of sufficient savoir faire to get out of it in some way. I avoided some things merely by assuring him that he would understand them better when he had read more. When I essayed an answer to any of his interrogatories, he had an I m <*m. unpleasant habit of pin- ning me down to exact statements and definite opinions. I had never appreciated the extent and variety of my ignorance until it was subjected to this test; and although Ulysses' attitude toward me was always that of pupil to teacher, yet I saw at times traces of the Socratic method in the long series of questions that he put to me, and I was compelled, not infre- quently, to squirm out of some inconsistency in most undignified fashion. r«ca«w>m>r^rr This inquisition con- tinued for a number of days after my return, and I could not close my eyes to the fact that I was fail- ing to hold my own in the estimation of Ulysses. From a cyclopedia of literature, which happened to be in my library, Ulysses had stored his mind with an enormous fund of information on subjects of which I was completely ignorant. In this field I was continually falling into traps. There were also translations of Comte and Hegel, to i m <*m. S^P' which he had devoted considerable study, but I checkmated him there by talking wordy nonsense, which I was sure he could not distinguish from meta- physics. It was evident, however, that he was beginning to appreciate that something was the matter. Although he had not come to the point of ranking me with Briggs, still my position was getting to be a precarious one, and I saw the neces- sity for great care. For some time I avoid- ed being drawn into ST i fie* J*? conversation with Ulysses, keeping him at bay with a number of new books, which I had brought with me from Madras. He was not long in apprecia- ting that there was some purpose lying back of this policy, and demanded an explanation of me. I was confused by his point blank questions, and only managed to make things worse. After that I was clay in his hands. Every day he branched out into some new field of discus- sion, tested me and found me wanting. I tried in m \\\7iVi I * mm 1 «»; eSP vain to conceal my failures under a dignified exterior. Ulysses at first seemed pained and surprised, but there finally showed itself in his bearing toward me an air of satisfaction and triumph, which was not easy to endure. To have been arrogantly treated by a member of my own species would have been a new experience to me, and one which I would have vigorously resented; this exhibition of super- ciliousness from an animal below me in the scale of creation was more than I I I ft proposed to put up with. One morning, as I sauntered out to the banyan tree, wondering what was to be the out- come of this absurd sit- uation, Ulysses motioned to me, and pointed to the blackboard, which I saw was covered with finely written characters. "No, Ulysses," I said, "I am tired this morning, and it is very hot. I do not wish to get into a discussion with you." Ulysses waved his trunk emphatically, and pointed again to the SY/09 SSv'sSa .-«jfc w \*I9. «>; blackboard. Then he gave a fierce trumpet, and glared at me in a way that gave me a start of terror. I saw that some sort of a crisis was ahead, but determined to defer it, if possible, until I could decide what was the best course to pursue. I ap- proached the board and read the following message, addressed to myself: "Master — You are de- ceived if you think I am ignorant of the change which has gradually come *u to pass in our relationship. You have been my supe- rior thus far in life, not by reason of your greater physical power, for I can strike you dead with one blow, whereas you, with- out the aid of tools, could not give me even external pain. Your sole claim to command over me lay in your intellectual super- iority. This superiority I am now compelled to question. Yesterday you admitted that you had never read any of Henry Mackenzie's novels; you showed complete igno- 0m *$ •* •*\h\» '#♦. • tL ranee concerning Bishop Berkeley's Alciphron; and when I asked why Henry Vaughn, the poet, was called the 'Silurist,' you had no answer to give me. In the conversa- tions of the last few days you have made countless blunders in matters of history, science and literature. Your ideas in metaphysics are those of a dotard, and your judg- ment in belles-lettres is execrable. I do not see on what ground you arrogate to yourself a position above me. If *:< you are not entitled to the place that I have given you in my consideration, if the idea which I have entertained with regard to our respective positions is erroneous, then it is clearly a matter of justice that we should straight- way change places. I will be the master here- after and you the servant. Can you show me any good reason why this revolution should not come to pass ?" There was no mistak- ing the tone and purport of this communication. { "WAT f WZ3. >••: \n: «*: It was at once a declara- tion of independence and a manifesto of sove- reignty. Not merely must I exercise no more authority over Ulysses, but I must yield gracefully and submissively to his rule. I did not know, either by experience or hearsay, what kind of a master an elephant would make, but from the in- tensely logical quality that Ulysses had always shown, I had a suspicion that he would prove at least severe and intolerant. The dilemma was a \m hard one. 5/2 I took up the chalk, intending to write my answer rather than speak it, that I might have time for reflection. As I did so, an idea suddenly occurred to me — a plan by which I could beat Ulysses at his own game. I immediately became so confident of its success that I did not hesitate to stake my personal liberty on the chance of his dis- comfiture. "Ulysses," I said, "I cannot deny that in many directions you have shown a mental grasp that I m mm p. % to£5 '•5\h1 >/•: I' 1 9. «»: never expected to see de- veloped elsewhere than among the best of my own species. But all this is not enough. There is still one test, the last and severest to which culture and intelligence may be submitted. If you can meet this satisfactorily, I shall no longer question your superiority over myself." 'That is all I ask," wrote Ulysses, "a fair trial. " I stepped into the house, and returned with a book which I had re- i I f± •v <<% w cently brought from Madras, and which Ulysses had not seen. I laid it open upon the rack before him. He brought up his monocle and glanced at the title and the author. "Aha!" he wrote; "I have heard of this man, and have long wished to see some of his work." "You know what posi- tion he occupies in letters?" I asked. "I do," wrote Ulysses; "I have read what his ad- mirers say of him." "Very well," I an- swered; "you know, then, W l«lff i Sasa Qjgf* fi* : — iS» what is demanded of you — that you should under- stand and enjoy this work. If you cannot meet both these requirements, then you have failed." Ulysses shrugged his trunk with easy indiffer- ence, raised his eye glass, and began to read. I lay some distance away, dozing in my hammock, and awaited results. They were not long in coming. At the end of about half an hour he trumpeted to me in an indignant tone of voice, and inquired on the blackboard whether I I I had given him the original English or some kind of a translation. I answered this satis- factorily, and for more than an hour he toiled away, breathing hard at times and swaying from side to side, whenever he thought he was about to find a clew. Presently he called to me again. "I forgot to ask," said he, "whether this was to be read backwards or side- ways." "Straight ahead," I answered. i\ m i WM w<«>wr- I saw that he was getting involved in the toils, and knew that they would soon close on him. It must be remembered '#* **; could feign an opinion which was not genuine, had never occurred to him. The book had been submitted to him about the middle of the morning. Ulysses took no refresh- ment that day, neither water nor food. When I came out of the house after "tiffin," I advised at "ih §1* XI'* m l' Em* IvA m him to lay the volume aside, and look at it again the next day. He seemed to feel that this would be a confession of failure, and refused. "Tell me," he wrote, "are there many of your species that understand and really enjoy this book?" "They are not many in number," I answered; "but their position in the society of culture and taste is an exalted one. Within the last few years it has come to pass that the understanding and ap- m If w ■•••Ym I 4k Jl»i'l Mm 'ffssP preciation of this work is a shibboleth by which the true disciples of sweetness and light may distinguish themselves from the miscellaneous herd of Philistines. Do not be discouraged because you have failed," I added, in a kindly, patronizing tone. "There are many estim- able mortals in the same situation. You under- stand, however, that you cannot be admitted to the elect, much less claim superiority to myself." Ulysses wrote upon the blackboard several i I profane expressions, which I suppose he had learned from Briggs, and resumed his study. It was nearly evening when Akbar came to me, and said that Ulysses was showing decided symp- toms of becoming "must." I went out with the inten- tion of taking the book away from him, but stopped several yards away, struck by his changed appearance. His eyes were wild and blood- shot, his ears erect, his legs spread apart. He was beating his sides with 'qXz& 5U and at times trumpeting in low, bass tones. When he saw us approach he seized the book from the rack and dashed it at me with all his force. "Ulysses, " I said, "keep calm." "Look out!" cried Akbar; "he is 'must.' Beware!" With a terrific roar Ulysses turned, and sprang in great, ponder- ous leaps out of the garden. Briggs, who was in his path, dropped his rake and flung himself into some bushes. "After him, Akbari" I cried; "see where he goes." Ulysses ran toward a clump of woods, which grew over a knoll a short distance away. Into this he plunged, and was soon out of sight. We could hear the limbs crash as he tore away into the thick foliage. Akbar fol- lowed cautiously. The direction which Ulysses had taken caused a sus- picion of possible calamity to dawn on my mind, and I waited uneasily for the *m 5^w VI: *»; mahout's return. It was not long before Akbar emerged from the woods and ran toward me. "Praise be to our fathers, he is dead!" he shouted. Akbar had come to fear and hate Ulysses. "Are you sure?" I asked. "May the hyenas eat my grandfather!" said he, solemnly. "You, who know only the truth, re- member the rocky bank beyond the hill, which slopes off to destruction? Your servant, Ulysses, i «<«<•»»> rushed thither and flung himself down, bursting his head against the stones. I myself saw him there, lying motionless and dead." This was the end of Ulysses. I have already remarked at the beginning of this narrative that I felt less of sorrow than of relief over the catastrophy. Long association had made him dear to me in many ways, yet I was not prepared to endure him as master. There could be no other outcome to the unhappy situation m than a tragedy of some kind. I sadly gave orders for the interment of his body, and returned to the house, taking with me the torn and disfigured copy of Browning's "Sordello." *m? */•< '#• «*: K10 s i i Note by the Author. The reason that prompted Ulysses' master to select "Sordello" as the agent of his discomfiture was, no doubt, that of all the blind and obscure work of the great poet, this is generally rated the most mysterious and per- plexing. In the days when the Browning con- flict raged, "Sordello" was the touchstone of the cult. To refresh the reader's memory of its difficulties, here are reproduced a few passages taken almost at xAWA •ilr/'/itr If it Ws. IS >/•: '# •. «»; random from the poem. None of these is de- pendent on context for meaning, so they consti- tute a fair test; and the reader can put himself in Ulysses' place. FROM "SORDELLO"— BOOK ONE. To remove A curse that haunts such natures — to preclude Their finding out themselves can work no good To what they love nor make it very blest By their endeavor.*— they are fain invest The lifeless thing with life from their own soul Availing it to purpose, to control, To dwell distinct and have peculiar joy And separate interests that may employ That beauty fitly, for its proper sake. This world of ours by tacit pact is pledged To laying such a spangled fabric low, Whether by gradual brush or gallant blow. But its abundant will was balked here: doubt Rose tardily in one so fenced about ilvA I s(? v*iiS22£SSs— From most that nurtures judgment, care and pain: Judgment, that dull expedient we are fain, Less favored, to adopt betimes and force Stead us, diverted from our natural course Of joys — contrive some yet amid the dearth, Vary and render them, it may be, worth Most we forgo. FROM BOOK THREE. Let stay those girls (e'en her disguised — Jewels i' the locks that love no crownet like Their native field-buds and the green wheat spike, So fair ! — who left this end of June's turmoil, Shook off, as might a lily its gold soil, Pomp, save a foolish gem or two, and free In dream, came to join the peasants o'er the sea.) Look they too happy, too tricked out ? Confess There is such niggard stock of happiness To share, that, do one's uttermost, dear wretch, One labors ineffectually to stretch It o'er you so that mother and children, both May equitably flaunt the sumpter-cloth ! (Reader, are you "must?") M. SXTj iv wrvM* a<0 1 10 L> JUL 10 1912 O * .7TV. » .ft 1 ' <+ ♦•TV *0 V *••• «!« ^ A <, *»«/» ^ ^ v*. V ..J «*u o ^ — * • BOOKBINDING ■ **», Cranlville. Pa H ti n~- l odd H BR m m m Mswm mm mi I I ■ "> ' i'-tfi-eilW"*'! m HI sBBsst m I mm ■HI H -,'■-• ^ri'i j ;' <-t\-x? H HI "^•'••i'-