Reading for Everybody.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXVII, Issue 2425, 13 February 1909, Page 9 (Supplement)

Reading for Everybody.

“VIVA DOR-R-R-ANDO !’’

HOW THE “INDOOR MARATHON” WAS WON AND LOST. '

(B'* Charles Henry 'White, in ‘ ‘Harper’s Weekly. ”) From the top gallery in .the garden- —the paracuso—-the great oval boioxv lay dim and ghostlike, submerged beneain the gray strata of stagnant j tobacco smoke that- hung heavily over the cnider path, hemmed in by thousands oi struggling people. Tiie small hole in the centre ox the sawaustcovered oval empties a restless stream of humanity that scatters itself broadcast.

Now York was fully represented. From I'Ti'th Avenue to Chatham square, from llarlom's Little itaiy to mulberry Lend, they poured in. tony the boot-bladk and Angelo the peanut vendor, the night-hawk with no visible means oi support and Ins ••inend,” the man with big diamondswho seldom speaks, newsboys and elderly denizens —till packed .the gallery and hung in festoons about tne non girders or the Garden. As nine o'clock approached a commotion was seen in the distant crowd struggling below. A short figure walks down the track in the direction of the starting line. ••Johnny Hayes!” shouts the eiev-ator-man who has stolen away to- make a night ox it. •'f orger it ! That’s Dick Croker i” remonstrates a man with a gimlet eye and no percept-able neck. The familiar strains of “Tammany” rise above the din that follows, in the blue distance a diminutive figure, clad in red, appears, and is greeted by a deafening uproar led by the Italian band pounding out the priest's march from “Aida.” “Dor-r-r-r-ando !” The word echoes about the vast enclosure with a buttering of Italian flags as the figure moves to the starting-line. ‘‘Hayes! Oh, you Johnny! Go get him!” The shout is taken up, and the dull, gray sea of people bursts out into a fluctuating mass of brilliant color. A small white figure has moved rapidly to the start. The two pigmies shake hands while “Yankee Doodle” .and “Aida” strive vainly to make themselves heard. Then a tense silence ; a pistol-shot; a roar of applause—and they are off ! “Dor-r-r-ando ! Viva Dor-r-r-r- a 11do!” ■

The r’s roll and rumble back and forth and repeat themselves in faint echoes in the rafters. “Cut it out!”

The speaker clings like a sparrow to the iron girder high above us. “Get his goat, Johnny!” he shouts, “and don’t let it get away from you.” “That’s right,” adds .a. plumber’s assistant at iny side. “You’re a-goin’ good, Johnny.' Just hand it on him. He’s got- nawtliin’ on you, Johnny, or I’m a—” .

His voice xvas lost in the tumult. The graceful little figures, far below, .i wing past at a killing pace, an ann's'tL kngth apart, with an easy, rhyth/pTniical stride. It seldom varies. Twelve thousand eyes never lose sight for an instance of the vermillion trunks tiiat set the pace. At times ,a dull roar is ■-"jftiiken up by thousands as they rise 'to their feet while the white figure behind forges ahead for a brief moment and is passed again by the red spot of color. Round and round the endless track ahead of them the little red 'and white spots glide past while a mob surges to the rail shouting encouragement.

MILES 12 LAPS o. Put still the men fiit by as fresh as ever. Again white figure is seen to make a brier spurt and take the lead, only to relinquish it a few seconds later. Now the trainers ate beginning to run beside their men with, sjtongcs and bottles. They spiny Dorando from head to foot with water. . , ~ “Foul! Foul! Foul!” shrieks-the anaemic man from his perch overhead. “He’s using a sceringc on him. “(lowan, that ain’t no seeringe. The second s]>eakcr focusses an eye i.ymn him which is accustomed to warp and wither things. “It ain’t, ehf” The person high above looks down with the air of an avenging angel. “It’s a dootche (douche) the lad s givin’ him to freshen him np a bit. The third speaker is a cold, clammy unresponsive party with a celluloi collar. . „ . “Sav, fellers, did you get it. A ‘dootche!’ Back to Matte, wan, Harry!” A sepulchral laugh above ends the / The dim figures still glide, along dreary, endless track, with a lightness conveying a sense of little effort, .mtch mechanical perfection ot movenm • fascinating. The storm of sound w r a moment ago shook the buildin*-, g way to a terse silence as ™ie vava audience, breathless with exc 5 gazes at the white .letters, y 1 ceptible, on the distant score-boaid. MILES 25 LA , if S ,° lash . A deafening roar drowns the Uasn ing of the brass bands. In the of sound a pistol-shot rings ou ;p* lv. announcing the last mile. .., , run faster. The head ot die htt. ■ figure in white seems to drop wca ily forward, but still he clings do gedlv to the pacemaker. In an■ of suspense thousands watch ", lessly the last dreary mile ot terrible ordeal. n MILES 25 1 LAI o ‘ The supreme moment has come. Ptween the red trunks and the figure behind, a small opening j P • ceptiblo. It increases to five yards. Fringing the dull, buff-colored tiack is a wiki, seething Kestwulat-ng mass of howling people shouting at vice and encouragement. <T U i rm Tmn of no avail. The lxmit ot human endurance has been reached. _ ; ■ trainers run beside the to 5? white figure with their sefto-bottle . The Vermillion spot moves forward and opens the gap sti l'',; There is a brief silence.! A. judder runs through the multitude _ m electric shock. The tiny, desi ‘ white figure is seen to staggci moment. There is a groan/ toi wc end has come. He almost tups .o . • Minv rail encircling tho track, is 4 ‘ fall —we breathe again as no regains his balance and totters f<2™ • His head now wobbles unsteadily his shoulders. It is a terrible hut an

absorbing sight—a magnificent exhibition of courage. Maddened men and women shriek advice to him as ho jogs painfully along, but ho does not hear them. His face -is set like a graven image, frozen into a pitiful stare of agony; his mouth open, gasping for breath; his heart broken, but his courage intact, as he sees through bloodshot eyes a little red blur draw still further ahead.

Practically unconscious, half-dead, still he is running with splendid spirit! Perhaps he. heard the exultant howl—a roar never to be forgotten by those present—-that reverberated through the Garden and across Madison Square as Dorando sprinted past and broke the tape, only to-Jfall,dazed into his trainers’ arms and he snatched up and carried away like a «liild to a place of safety. As the crowd swarms down the little white figure is seen to stumble across the tapo and likewise, fall into arms that lift him tenderly from the ground. Then both blots of white and red are engulfed in a black mass of color as the people swoop down like, a black pall from the balconies and boxes—shouting, singing, cursing, and .stumbling deliriously forward, carrying everything before them. Past the dressing-room of Dorando, where a crowd of his compatriots has gathered knocking vainly for admission, the police sweep us —into the street beneath a drizzling -rain, where a mob is waiting, determined to see the hero.; A small Italian bearing a slight resemblance to Dorando steps forward. This is too much for the overheated imagination of a delirious fellow countryman, who plunges forward to kiss him, at the same moment when a small man with a big neck and a petty-larcd’ny face unwittingly entei’s the line .of fire and receives the full impact of the kiss on the top of his new derby, denting it beyond recognition. “False alarm !” growls the injured party, giving the platonic one a vicious prod in the stomach. It is merely an incident, for tlie-police sweep us along the slippery street into the gutter —across the car-tracks, where, m the glare of the corner _ saloon, the Italian band is gathering in somewhat unstrung and disorganized condition, groping about for sections oi brass'in-

struments. Whether it was their intention to give their distinguished compatriot a serenade I am unable to say. Tor, as I stood watching a- trombone-player who had blown out a cylinder head m the excitement and was working desperately to piece his instrument together, a mounted policeman rode up on the sidewalk and said: “Say- you guys liad better put that plumbing together at home. It s gettin late. It was late; and the horses rode into the chattering and bewildered crowd, the band fled before them with a discordant metallic jangling a confused blur of arms, flags, and legs, wit.i hero and there a glimpse of light on brass that vanished into the darkness. It was certainly Italy’s day for thanksgiving! Viva Dor-r-r-r-ando.

“HOW I BUILT* UR A BIG BUSINESS.” CONFESSIONS OF SOME WELLKNOWN MEN. It is not many years since Mr Joseph Lyons, one of the most successful business men of our day lvas contemplating a career in art and with very fair prospect of making more than bread and butter out of it. Four of his pictures had been bung at the Royal Institution, in AMbemarle-street, and had quickly found a purchaser. MR LYON’S STORY. “That success,” he says, “was encouraging, but I became convinced that by continuing as an artist I should take many years bo climb the ladder of fame. So I relinquished art as a calling. My .first business success .followed. I conceived the idea of establishing shops for supplying light refreshments m all parts of London ivhicli would be different to any then in existence. I commenced ivith Mr Montagu Gluokstein, a great organiser. O'ur small shops immediately became popular, and as they grew ill popularity so xve. increased their number.” To xvhat enormous and profitable proportions this enterprise has now groxvn every Londoner knows. HOW MR DAMAGE GOT ON. It was a chance xdsit to a. barber’s shop that started Mr A. W. Damage on the road to xvealth. “I was looking out for something that would go,” he says. “The barber had various things that xvere good for the hair, and he brought to my notice a new wire (brush, sold at 2s. I thought I saxv• business in that brush, and I considered that if it xvere sold at Is 9d there xvould bo a fair profit. My partner agreed, I bought halt a gross from the manufacturers, and offered them to the public at the reduced price. The little brush shop in Holborn created quite a sensation, and that idea .proved the foundation of our business.” GREAT (SHIPPING VENTURES. Sir Donald Currie, the great shipowner, who has done more than any other man to make South Africa, began his strenuous life on a stool in a Greenock shipping office, and saved the small capital on xvliicli lie himself started as an oxvner of ships.; xvliile xvorking for the newlv-formed Cunard Company. Air (Ismay, tho founder of the great White. (Star line, spent his earliest xvorking years as ail apprentice to a firm of Liverpool _ shipowners, and ■proved so energetic and thrifty that at 25 lie xvas able to start in business. FROM BLACKSMITH TO KNIGHTHOOD. Sir William Anrol, the famous engineer, and builder of the Tay and Forth bridges, xvas xvorking in a cotton mill at nine, and spent many years of drudgery as blacksmith, mechanic, and jobbing boiler maker, liefore fortune condescended to smile on his industry. And. lie xvas already within sight of this 30th birthday xx’hen he xvas able to set up in busi,ness on his oxxm account on sax'ings amounting to £BS, £43 of which he spent on an engine and boiler. At 15 Sir Alfred Jones, the “man xvho made Jamaica,” and the millionaire owner of a vast fleet of steamships, xvas xvorking early and 7.ate m the office of Messrs Laird. Fletcher, ■and Co., xvho managed the African ■Steamship -Company. “Small pay and plenty of xvork xvere my lot,” he says, “but 1 continued to study in the evenings at the Liverpool College. ERRAND-BOY TO YACHTSMAN. Sir Thomas Lipton began his climb of the -ladder of riches from the very loxvest rung. As a boy of nine he xvas adding half-a-croxvn a week to the scanty family purse as errand bey. a loxvly part which he pi ay oil for half a. dozen years. Then came that adventurous trip to America in search of fortune, with. its tale, of hardship and disillusion, and the homeward rot urn with £IOO in his .'pocket, with xvhicli the embryo Tea King opened his small provision store in Glasgow. Mr Earnest Cassel, millionaire and philanthropist, spent tho first three years of Ins xvorking (life in the office of a Liverpool grain merchant before migrating to London to send a few more years as clerk in a financial house. Here his great financial ta-> lent started him on the road to lortunc, and while he was still ni the thirties he xvas negotiating important -foreign loans, and xvas accounted one of the most astute and suocessfail financiers in Europe. THE TANG YE FORTUNE,,. At fourteen the (late Sir Richard Tangye was learning the art of teaching, rising at five o’clock every morn, inrr and xvorking until late into the. night for a salary of less than 2s a month, .including his board and lodging; and four years later he xvas “passing rich” on. £SO a year as clerk to a firm of U'- pingliam engineers. The turn of tho tide came xvlien, .m partnership -xvith his brothers, ne rented a manufacturer’s packing-room at 4s a xveek, with steani-poxxor thrown in, and the firm of Tangye Brothers, engineers, xvliicli xvas to become one of the most ifamo-us m the xvorild, was obsourely cradled.'

PRESIDENT ROOSEVELT’S TEMPER. SCHOOLGIRLS REBUKED. Confirmation of the incident in xvhicli President Roosevelt is said to ■have become incensed at four young women who passed him xvhile riding on horseback near Washington, is given by several young women of the National Park Seminary, xvho -arrived recently at Chicago on their way home to spend the holidays. The girls, despite the fact they had been xvarned they xvould be disciplined for talking about the affair, not only said the President had scolded the four young girls xvho had galloped past him, slapping the’- liorsc of one in his anger, but they declared Miss Ethel Roosevelt, daughter of the President took a part in tho affair, severely rebuking the girls for riding the Roosexmlt party too hard. Mrs. Roosevelt, they said, finally caused her daughter to stop. One of the girls who kept her name secret, fearing punishment, told hoxv the four girls rode past the Roosevelt party. She added: “And then the man that they -had passed rode up beside them and struck Miss Rhodes’ horse xvith his riding crop. “ ‘You shouldn’t have passed me,’ the man cried, and then she saxv it xvas President Roosex r olt. “She did not know xvhat to say or do, and the President kept scolding her, and the girl xvho xvas xvith thing and whom they recognised as Ethel Roosevelt, was more vociferous than her father.

“ ‘You had no business to pass us,’ she said. ‘You should have kept back,’ and she xvould have saicl more if Mrs. Roosevelt had not silenced her.

“The girls xvent back to tho school and told about tlieir experience. All xvere indignant. Mr. Cassidy, the principal, scolded the girls, said that Mr. Roosevelt xvas quite right in xvhat he did, and then sent a note to the White House apologising for the girls’ actions. That was almost more Hi an we could stand.

“Last spring I saxv the President for tho first time. I xvas out xvalking xvith some other girls from the school, and wo wore in the xvoocis. Yve xvere out of the beaten path and far away from tho road, when xve heard the crash of branches behind us and a horseman dasiied out of the xvoods and took tiie creek in a flying leap. It was beautiful to see, and all the girls were as delighted as I. Then one of them told us it xvas the President. Yve thought xve had seen Mr. Roosevelt unawares, but ho hud only been posing for the photographer, ft xvas xvhat you call a press agent affair.” President Roosevelt’s alleged Thanksgiving Day rebuke of scx'eral young ladies of the National Park Sontinary, Forest Glen, Aid., is confirmed in a letter from Miss May Ghosbrough, assistant physical director of the institution, to her parents, Mr. and Airs. W. H. Chesbrougli, of Beloit. Miss Cnesbrough’s version oi the affair is as iolloxvs:

‘Miss Sisson stayed out in the country xvith others. They came home pcrfcctlv furious over an experience they had had with the President. They thought lie was ‘no gentleman’ aiufterribly conceited over Ids importance. It seems that they were riding along and heard a party coming along behind them. As the party passed on a trot they recognised President Roosevelt, Airs. Roosevelt, aud Miss Ethel Roosevelt with two or three men. After they had passed they brought' their horses to a sloxv walk, and as the girls xvere in a hurry to get home and dress for dinner they started up their horses and passed the President’s, party. “Alter they were by they heard a horse cornc galloping "up behind them, -and xvlien their horses heard it they parted to run. For quite awhile ail the horses xvere tearing along. Filially the President came so close to one of the girls that lie knocked her foot out of tiie stirrup, and said in rather an axvi'ul voice: ‘You shouldn’t have done that. You should have stayed belli ml.

“Then Aliss Ethel Roosevelt came along and in a very haughty voice said: ‘Let me pass.’ Airs. Roosevelt was very sweet about it, aud the girls raged at the President. They were all Texas girls, and hadn’t much lox r c for him in the first place, I imagine.”

THE LOST SARDINIA. SAILOR DESCRIBES TERRIBLE SOE.NES. A Folkestone woman lias received a letter from her son, a leading seaman on H.M.S. Lancaster, which gives some grim details of the scenes at the .burning of the. steamer Sardinia off Malta. The 'write?, who .assisted in the work of rescue, says: ' “The sea was iawfu'l to look at. The Arabs were dropping over the quarter and fouling the screw. “I saw .three lashed to a line lowered down for us to pick <up, but the slack line caught the screw- and away they went before our eyes. Wo .passed a body cut clean in halves and one solitary head tossing about. “On our way back we picked up two bodies, a passenger and the skipper. The latter was terribly cut about the left side of the- face, shoulder, and chest. He must have been struck with a piece of jagged iron. The skin was blown off his hands, and his great coat, trousers, and even socks above his boots were, blown off about half-way between thigh and knees. - _ , “There was an English nurse on board. She dropped a child into the boat, and was coming herself when an Arab tried to stop her. She jammed her fist in his face and was over before lie knew what was up, and wo soon had her out of the. water and into the boat.” ■One of the most pathetic incidents of the loss Of the liner was narrated bv Miss Kate G-ifmour, the stewardess, who arrived at Liverpool on the Venetian. ' Among the drowned, she said, vas Mr. and Mrs. Grant’s little, boy, who was' among the first-class passengers. He was a great favorite on board, and passengers called him “the fourth mate ” When the fire broke out and spread with such fearful rapidity, a. brave effort was made by the second officer, who strapped the boy . on Jus back land jumped into the sea. But the “fourth mate” was washed away and was seem no more.