hed--a blow between the eyes
laid him low. The Youngstown supes not only wiped up the stage with him
but they wiped their feet on him. The gallery howled, the down-stairs
applauded, the company laughed. The curtain fell amid loud applause.

Alfred was anxious to continue the conflict after the curtain dropped;
the supes were agreeable. But the stage manager, the stars and others of
the company interfered. The matter was amicably adjusted.

Alfred, although badly maimed, played his parts during the week's run in
Pittsburgh, although the war club he carried was not the imitation one
he wielded in Youngstown. However, there was no recurrence of the
Youngstown scene.

The play did not meet with success. After the Pittsburgh engagement it
was carefully laid away and thus Alfred was preserved to minstrelsy.

It is a curious fact that the only play Bartley Campbell ever wrote, a
play with the theme of which he was not in sympathy, written for
commercial purposes only, has lived longer and earned more money than
his most meritorious creations. We refer to "The White Slave." Who is
not familiar with those thrilling lines:

"Rags are royal raiment
When worn for virtue's sake."

Bartley Campbell was a self made man--from laboring in a brick-yard to
journalism, then a dramatist. He was a noble boy, a manly man. He toiled
patiently all the days of his only too brief life for those he loved.

* * * * *

It was in the early days of the beginning of that race for wealth that
has made Pittsburgh both famous and infamous. Jared M. Brush had been
elected mayor; Hostetter Stomach Bitters had become famous in all dry
sections of the country; Jimmy Hammill had won the single sculling
championship of the world; the Red Lion Hotel had painted the lion out
and painted St. Clair Hotel in gilt letters to attract trade from
Sewickley, which community, so near the Economites, had imbibed a sort
of religious fervor exhibited outwardly only. It was argued by the
proprietor that when the residents of Sewickley drove by on their way to
market to dispose of their garden truck, butter and eggs, they would be
attracted by the word "Saint." The St. Nicholas Hotel on Grant Street
always boarded the court jurors. The St. Charles on Wood Street had the
patronage of the Democrats of Fayette County. Brownsville people always
stopped at the Monongahela House.

The bleating sheep, the frolicking calves, the cacklin